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cutelikeharry · 5 months ago

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After Credits. Janitor Levi Ackerman x Fem Reader Smut, 18+

Summary: Every Friday night, she escapes the stress of her senior year of college by unwinding at the movies. There, she meets Levi, an attractive janitor who isn’t happy with her habit of staying after the credits roll. But after an argument, their tension snaps, and she discovers that cleaning isn’t the only thing he’s good at.

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She had found herself at the cinema again. As a senior in uni, the stress of her final year was overwhelming, and Friday nights had become her personal tradition, the one time she could disconnect from the pressures of university life. It was her thing. Taking a break from her hectic schedule to enjoy the quiet solitude that only a cinema could offer. As an undergrad, she didn’t have much time to go out, but movies… movies were her escape.

She had started visiting the local cinema more often, choosing films based on what seemed interesting at the time, usually romance. She usually took the very last showings of the night, when the cinema was emptier and the darkened theater felt like her own little world.

Tonight was no different. She’d picked a romantic movie, nothing too special, but it had kept her entertained. The movie ended, the credits rolled, and the theater started emptying. People got up and left, chatting with friends or heading out, but she stayed in her seat, like always.

She had a habit of waiting until the very end. Some movies, especially the ones that were a little more mainstream, sometimes had extra scenes after the credits. She didn’t want to miss that, so she stayed seated, finishing off the last of her popcorn and waiting for any hidden surprises.

When the last of the people walked out, the theater went quiet. She looked around at the empty seats, then turned back to the screen. The soundtrack music from the movie, as the credits rolled, was the only sound. She was alone now, but she didn’t mind. This was her moment of peace.

That’s when she saw him.

A familiar figure appeared at the theater entrance. A man in his thirties carrying a broom, with a cart full of cleaning supplies beside him.

She knew him by now, if only in passing. She’d always be the last to leave, lingering for after-credit scenes, and he was always the one waiting, clearly annoyed by her habit. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes landing on her before he rolled them with his usual annoyance.

She was caught off guard but didn’t let it show. She just kept eating her popcorn, ignoring him as he started sweeping up the mess from the theater. He went around picking up trash, moving up the rows.

She had seen him before, but she never paid much attention to him until now. She noticed he was... attractive. His sharp features, the dark hair swept up in an undercut that looked a little too stylish for a janitor, and the slight shadow of dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t gotten much sleep in a while.

Well, then again, it was past midnight, and he still had to clean up everyone’s mess, so it was understandable.

The light blue uniform stretched over his toned arms, his muscles flexing with each motion. His hands looked strong, veins visible, and she found herself watching him longer than she meant to.

He finished sweeping the lower rows and then headed up the aisle, skipping past a few rows before stopping directly at hers. She stayed seated, but she felt his presence as he walked toward her, stopping right next to her. She looked up at him, confused, wondering what he wanted.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to ignore him, but it was hard. His eyes remained on her. Her attention instinctively darted back towards the screen, trying to focus on the credits, but every time she glanced back, she found his eyes still fixed on her. His expression was unreadable, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. She didn’t know what he wanted. Had she done something wrong?

Her eyes caught a small card hanging from around his neck. ‘A name tag’, she realized.

‘Levi Ackerman.’

“You’re still here?” Levi asked, clearly annoyed. His voice was low, a little tired.

She blinked, unsure how to respond to his comment. “Yeah… I’m waiting for the after-credits.”

He glanced shortly at the rolling credits, then back at her, his expression flat. "It's a romance movie. They don't do after-credits for this kind of thing."

She raised an eyebrow as she kept eating her popcorn. “You don’t know that. Maybe they do. Maybe there’s a surprise.”

Levi rolled his eyes before once again glancing at the screen. The credits were almost finished, the final names scrolling by, and she held her breath, hoping for more. But there was nothing. The screen turned off completely.

Her face dropped slightly, feeling a bit disappointed. She had been hoping for something, even though she knew deep down it was unlikely.

“See? No after-credits. Now, get out.”

She frowned, standing up, her hand gripping the bucket of popcorn a little tighter. “Hey, no need to be rude. I just wanted to see if there was something left. After-credits can be just as important as the movie, you know?”

Levi's expression didn’t soften. “You know, it’s Friday night, right? Most people go out and hang out with friends. Not sit here alone waiting for the credits to end.”

She felt her irritation rising. She wasn’t sure why he was being so condescending, but it was getting under her skin. “Maybe I like the quiet,” she shot back.

Levi didn’t seem to care much. He just gave a small shrug. “Whatever. Just take your popcorn and leave. I’ve got another theater to deal with before I can leave.”

She clenched her jaw, annoyed by the way he dismissed her. She didn’t want to leave just because he told her to, but what could she do? She was already standing.

She took the popcorn bucket and walked down the stairs, heading for the exit. Before she left, she turned to glance back at him. He was already back to cleaning, his broom moving over the floor, barely paying her any mind.

She stormed out of the theater, fists tight. His attitude pissed her off. He was a total jerk. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about his stupidly handsome face.

As the week went on and she attended her lectures, she couldn't shake him from her thoughts. She was angry with herself for not speaking up when he made those rude remarks, but she couldn't deny the way his light blue uniform clung to his muscular frame as he swept the theater. Her mind kept replaying images of him, making it impossible for her to concentrate on the lecture in front of her.

‘He's not even that good looking.’ she repeated, trying to convince herself that he was just another ordinary guy. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Every time she tried to brush it off, something about him kept pulling her back. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but it lingered in her mind, pulling her in despite her best efforts to ignore it.

‘Focus. You’re here to learn, not fantasize about some janitor.’ She’d shake her head, but still, the image of him would linger. She’d catch herself daydreaming, completely losing track of the professor’s words as she pictured him.

Levi Ackerman, his name still fresh in her mind.

By the time the next Friday rolled around, she had already decided it was time to escape again.

Her weekly trip to the cinema had become a need. The place where she could leave her distractions behind.

As she walked up to the ticket counter, she glanced at the list of movies showing. She’d seen them all except for one.

It was a romance movie, but not like the ones she usually went for. This one had a big, bold "18+" slapped on it. She’d heard the rumors about this movie. Mostly graphic, erotic scenes.

She hesitated, unsure. She wasn’t typically into movies that were this explicit, but something about the idea of watching it nagged at her. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe she was just looking for something different.

She shrugged, deciding to buy a ticket anyway. ‘One time won’t hurt,’ she thought, not really believing the excuse herself. She bought her popcorn and drink, then made her way towards the theater.

The theater was half empty as usual, and she picked her usual seat in the back row. She preferred it there. The middle rows were always too crowded, and the back gave her the space to settle in without distractions. She popped some popcorn into her mouth and sat down, waiting for the commercials to finish and the movie to start.

The movie wasn’t anything special at first. Just a young couple falling in love, the kind of story that was predictable, but still heartwarming. But as the film went on, it started pushing past what she’d expected, with scenes that felt... different. Graphic. Intimate.

Her face heated up at certain moments. Scenes that felt way too graphic to be on the big screen. She shifted in her seat, trying to keep her focus on the screen, but it was hard. The scenes were almost uncomfortable to watch, not because they were poorly done, but because they felt too real.

She didn’t know if she was more embarrassed by what was happening on screen or the fact that she was watching it by herself.

She couldn’t help but wonder. Would that Levi guy ever watch a movie like this? The thought made her stomach twist. It was strange, but she couldn’t shake the image of him in her mind, now mixing with the images on the screen. ‘God! What am I thinking?’ she scolded herself, trying to shake off the thoughts that were slowly creeping in.

As soon as the movie ended, she made a quick decision. She wasn’t about to stick around for another awkward run-in with Levi. She didn’t need to hear his comments about her watching that type of movie by herself on a Friday night.

Her face was still flushed from the scenes she’d just watched, and the last thing she needed was him making some comment about her choice in media. Besides, she was almost sure there would be no after-credit scenes in this one.

As the credits rolled and the lights turned back on, people started gathering their things and heading towards the exits. She quickly stood up, grabbed her popcorn and drink, and without looking back, hurried down, weaving through the small crowd and skipping a few steps as she went.

Pushing open the door, she stepped into the hallway, her pace quickening as she made her way towards the exit. But as she rounded a corner, her elbow brushed against someone, and in an instant, her drink spilled across her white t-shirt. She cursed under her breath as the cold liquid soaked through the fabric, splashing onto the floor and sending popcorn tumbling everywhere.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” she blurted out, rushing to pick up the fallen paper cup and popcorn bucket. The mess was overwhelming. Most of the drink had already soaked into her shirt, leaving her feeling embarrassed as she frantically tried to clean up.

And then, she looked up. Standing there, watching her, was Levi.

She froze. She was still kneeling on the floor, her cheeks burning. She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected to run into him again. Let alone like this. He looked a little taken aback, his expression unreadable, as he took in the scene. She could feel her face heating up even more, but she didn’t say anything. Her mouth felt dry, and she could feel the awkwardness wrapping around her, suffocating her.

As she stood up, she noticed Levi’s eyes flicker downward for a split second, widening just slightly before he looked away. It was subtle, but she caught it.

Then she realized why. The spilled drink had soaked through her shirt, and under the bright lights, her white t-shirt had turned slightly see-through, leaving little to the imagination.

Her stomach dropped, and her face flushed intensely. She quickly pulled her jacket closed, covering herself as best she could.

“I—I’ll just—uh, sorry,” she mumbled before she quickly turned and headed towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was empty, as expected for this time at night. The cinema was practically deserted by now. She took her jacket off, then pulled off her shirt, trying not to think about the mess she’d just caused, leaving her in just her bra.

She leaned over the sink, trying to scrub away the large stain from the spilled drink. The water splashed around, but the stain didn’t seem to want to go anywhere.

She glanced up, her eyes landing on a small vending machine inside the bathroom, stocked with painkillers, tampons, and condoms. She raised an eyebrow, wondering to herself, ‘Do people actually do it in here?’

As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t ignore the redness in her cheeks. Her face was still burning, and she found herself thinking about what had just happened.

‘He probably has to clean it up,’ she thought, her stomach twisting. He was probably furious. She felt guilty, even though she knew it was an accident.

But then, her thoughts shifted once again. ‘Why the hell do I keep thinking about him?!’ she thought frustrated, trying to focus on getting the stain out of her shirt.

Her breath caught as the thought of him mixed with scenes from the movie she’d just watched. It felt like everything was colliding all at once. The way he looked at her, and the intimate scenes she’d just seen on screen. She could feel her heartbeat quicken as her mind wandered, the images of Levi and the movie blending together in her thoughts, with herself somehow caught in the middle.

‘Gosh. What’s wrong with you?’ she scolded herself, gripping the edge of the sink.

The heat between her legs grew more intense as she imagined him standing over her, his strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. She pictured the sensation of his lips against her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and his hand slipping under her shirt. She couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have him inside of her, his thick cock pushing deep inside of her.

Her breath quickened as her fingers instinctively brushed against the dampness of her panties beneath her skirt. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she gently rubbed herself through the thin fabric, her mind still filled with thoughts of Levi. She could almost feel his touch against her body. Her fingers moved in slow circles, sending waves of pleasure through her core.

She leaned against the bathroom counter, her legs trembling slightly as she continued to touch herself. Her free hand gripped the edge of the sink tightly as she increased the pressure and speed of her movements. Soft whimpers echoed in the empty bathroom as she neared her peak.

Suddenly, the sound of voices in the hallway snapped her back to reality. Her eyes flew open as she yanked her hand away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. What was she doing? This was a public bathroom in a movie theater!

She shook her head, trying to bring herself back to reality. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would help clear her mind and wash away the lingering embarrassment and confusion.

After scrubbing the last traces of the drink out of her shirt, she wrung the fabric out as best as she could. The shirt was still damp and a little cold against her skin as she put it back on, but at least it was clean.

She slipped on her jacket and took one last look in the mirror, noticing that while her face was still flushed, but it was nowhere near the tomato-red shade it had been moments before.

She took a deep breath and opened the door of the bathroom, peeking out and glancing around to make sure Levi wasn’t lurking nearby.

Relieved to find the hallway empty, she slipped out and headed towards the exit, hoping to put this entire night behind her. But as she neared the main lobby, she slipped her hand into her jacket pocket, only to feel nothing.

Her phone wasn’t there.

She froze mid-step, her eyes widening as she patted down her other pockets, searching. But it was no use. A sinking feeling hit her as she realized she must have left it back in the theater.

She sighed sharply as she retraced her steps in her mind. Of all nights, why tonight? She brushed her hands over her jacket one last time, then took a deep breath, accepting she’d have to go back and get it.

Swallowing her frustration, she turned around and began the walk back towards the theater room, hoping she could just grab her phone, and get out without another awkward encounter.

She slipped back into the theater, relieved to find it empty. No Levi. Perfect. She hurried up the stairs, heading straight to her seat at the top row, scanning the floor as she approached.

She leaned down, checking under the seat, then behind it, but her phone was nowhere to be found. Frustration started to bubble up just as she heard a voice from below.

“Forgot something?”

She froze, the annoyance hitting her instantly as she recognized that voice. With a sigh, she squinted in irritation and slowly turned around, spotting Levi at the bottom row, holding up her phone between his fingers.

He didn’t even seem annoyed that he’d probably had to clean up her mess just a few minutes ago. He just stood there, as deadpan as ever.

She exhaled sharply, walking down the stairs to meet him. Levi watched her approach, and just as she was close enough, he tossed her phone up.

She caught it with ease, pressing her lips together in a tight, annoyed smile as she raised her eyebrows, holding up the phone in acknowledgment. “Thanks,” she said, turning quickly to leave, hoping this would be the end of it.

But of course, Levi couldn’t resist.

“Interesting choice of film for a Friday night,” he commented dryly.

She stopped in her tracks. Really? She turned back around, rolling her eyes slightly as she tried to think of a response.

“There’s nothing wrong with a girl enjoying… you know… erotica,” she replied, her voice coming out a bit more awkwardly than intended.

She mentally cringed, hating that he was making her explain herself.

“If you say so.” He said unimpressed. "Must be desperate for excitement if that’s what you’re doing by yourself on a Friday night."

Her cheeks burned, but she wasn’t about to let him have the last word this time. “Not everyone watches these movies just for the scenes, you know,” she added defiantly, raising an eyebrow.

Levi paused, then looked at her with a skeptical tilt of his head, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, please. You’re not about to tell me you watched this movie for the plot.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe I did,” she said, though her voice wavered a little, clearly not convincing him.

He scoffed, stepping a bit closer. “Sure. Bet you were on the edge of your seat, real invested in their deep, meaningful conversations, right?”

Her mouth opened, then shut again as she struggled for a comeback. “Some of us appreciate storytelling,” she stuttered with as much dignity as she could muster, though the faint smirk in his eyes told her he wasn’t buying a word of it.

“Right,” he replied, deadpan. “Nothing says quality storytelling like an R-rated romance movie.”

She clenched her jaw slightly, both embarrassed and annoyed. “I just wanted to experiment with something new,” she replied, crossing her arms defensively.

“Could always try meeting real people for that.” He turned away, picking up his broom to continue his work, leaving her feeling even more flustered.

She held her ground, arms crossed, eyeing him with a smirk that dared him to react. “Says the guy who probably hasn’t even been with a woman before.”

Levi paused mid-sweep, a faint chuckle escaping as he glanced at her over his shoulder. But he didn’t get defensive. He looked almost amused. “If that’s what you think,” he replied, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he returned to his work.

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she crossed her arms a bit tighter. ‘Oh,’ she thought, her heart beating a little faster.

Most men would get flustered or defensive at comments like that, but him? He just looked back at her, calm and unfazed. Somehow, his confidence only made him more attractive.

She took a step closer, unable to stop herself. She found herself drawn in by the tension building between them. “Really?" she challenged again playfully. “And just how many women have you been with, Mr. Janitor?”

Levi turned fully towards her. His eyes swept over her from head to toe, lingering just a bit longer than necessary before replying, making her pulse quicken.

He set the broom aside and leaned casually against the wall. "Enough to know what I'm doing," he said.

Her pulse quickened, but she refused to back down. She held his stare, stepping even closer. "Is that so?" she murmured.

Levi smirked, noticing how close she stood as he looked at her, her cleavage pressing against his chest. His eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What? You don’t believe me?”

Her heart raced as she met his eyes, a teasing smile pulling at her lips. Her breath quickened, but her eyes remained teasing. She stepped a fraction closer, her fingers sliding slowly up the back of his neck, her fingers into his undercut. She leaned closer, pulling him in just a little, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Maybe I need some…proof.”

Levi’s hand shot out before she could react, his fingers threading through the back of her hair with a harsh grip, yanking her head back. The sudden force caught her off guard, and before she could protest, his lips crashed against hers. Rough, urgent, and without hesitation.

Levi’s other hand gripped her waist as he pulled her closer, his hold tightening. His fingers dug deeper into her hair, pulling her even further into the kiss, the pressure making her breath catch in her throat.

“You want proof?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough. “You’re getting more than that.”

Her pulse quickened as her surroundings came rushing back. She glanced around, remembering they were in a movie theater. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face as she pulled back slightly, just enough to catch her breath.

“What if someone sees us?” she whispered, the thrill of the moment mixing with the risk, making her heart pound harder.

Levi closed the space between them again, his mouth brushing hers as he spoke, “No one will. The place’s closed by now. They lock up after the last show,” he murmured.

Levi's hands slid down to her hips, gripping them firmly. His lips trailed hot kisses along her jawline and down her neck, earning a soft moan from her.

Without warning, Levi's hands moved lower, squeezing her ass possessively. She gasped at the bold move, her body tensing briefly before melting into his touch. His strong fingers kneaded the soft flesh, pulling her even closer against him.

Levi lifted her right leg, hooking it around his waist. The new position pressed their bodies together intimately, and her breath caught as she felt the hard bulge throbbing against her center. Even through layers of clothing, the heat radiating between them was intense. Her breath hitched as Levi ground his hips against her, the friction sending pleasure through her core. His hands gripped her other thigh, lifting her up and pressing her back against the wall.

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he pinned her there. His mouth found her neck again. He sucked gently on her skin before trailing open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone. She tilted her head back, giving him better access as soft moans escaped her lips.

“Levi…,” she moaned.

Levi's hands slid under her jacket, his calloused fingers tracing gentle patterns on the bare skin of her back, sending a shiver down her spine. In one swift motion, he slipped the jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

She shivered, her heart racing as she felt his warm breath against her skin. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted him, how much she needed him. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Levi’s smirk lingered as he slowly lowered her back down to the floor, his hands steady on her waist. His breath was hot against her lips before he leaned in again, capturing her mouth in a deeper, more possessive kiss. His tongue brushed softly against hers, drawing her in until she melted against him, her fingers curling into his shirt as the intensity between them grew.

She pulled away from the kiss, her heart racing as she looked up at him. Without a word, she slowly sank to her knees in front of him, her fingers trailing down his chest and abdomen as she went. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the tension in his muscles as her hands explored.

She reached for his belt. The metal felt cold against her skin as she struggled to unfasten it, overcome with excitement. After a few moments, she finally managed to undo it, the sound of metal clinking.

Her breath quickened as she tugged at his zipper, pulling it down quickly. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants, her knuckles brushing against his lower abdomen before she slowly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of him, thick and fully erect. She glanced up at him through her lashes, her cheeks flushed.

Levi's hand tangled in her hair, guiding her closer. She parted her lips, her tongue teasingly darting out to lick the tip. She heard Levi's sharp intake of breath and felt emboldened. Slowly, she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head as she began to bob up and down his erection.

Levi groaned softly, his fingers tightening in her hair. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

She hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper. She could feel him hitting the back of her throat as she moved, her tongue swirling around him. Levi's grip on her hair tightened, guiding her movements.

"That's it," he murmured with desire. "Take it all."

She looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes watering slightly. The sight of her lips wrapped around him, her eyes locked on his, sent a jolt of pleasure through Levi's body. He thrust his hips forward, pushing himself further into her mouth.

Her hands gripped his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath her fingers. She quickened her pace, her head bobbing faster as she sucked him harder.

Levi's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he neared his peak. "I'm close," he warned, his voice strained.

She locked eyes with him, maintaining eye contact as she took him as deep as she could. Her throat relaxed, allowing him to slide further in. She swallowed around him, the muscles of her throat contracting.

Levi groaned deeply, his hips jerking forward. "Fuck, I'm gonna—"

He didn’t finish his sentence before she felt his hand on the back of her head, drawing her closer. The warm liquid hit the back of her throat. She swallowed quickly, her eyes watering slightly as she took everything he gave her.

As the last pulses lingered, Levi gently pulled out of her mouth. He looked down at her, wiping away the bit of saliva spilling from her mouth with his thumb.

Levi pulled her to her feet, his eyes roaming over her flushed face. Without warning, he spun her around and pushed her against the wall. His hands slid up her thighs, bunching her skirt around her waist.

"Spread your legs," he commanded.

She obeyed, her heart pounding. Levi's fingers traced teasing patterns along her inner thighs, inching higher but not quite touching where she desperately wanted him.

"Please," she whimpered, pressing her hips back against him.

Levi chuckled darkly. "Patience," he murmured, nipping at her earlobe. His fingers finally slipped through her damp panties, sliding between her folds.

She gasped as he began stroking her, his fingers circling her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance.

"So wet already," Levi murmured in her ear. "Is this what you wanted when you came to watch that movie? To be touched like this?"

She could only whimper in response as Levi slid two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that perfect spot. Her hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more friction.

Levi's other hand slid up to cup her breast through her shirt, beneath her bra, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. She arched into his touch, soft moans escaping her lips.

His fingers pumped in and out of her at a steady pace, his thumb circling her clit. The sensation had her trembling against him, her legs shaking as the pleasure built within her core.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as Levi continued to work his fingers inside her. Levi's breath was hot against her neck, his chest pressed firmly against her back as he held her in place.

With a low groan, Levi slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving her whimpering at the loss. But before she could protest, he spun her around to face him, crashing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed herself against him. Levi's hands roamed her body, one tangling in her hair while the other gripped her hip. His tongue swept into her mouth as their kiss deepened.

Levi forcefully pulled her closer, their tongues tangled in a heated kiss. He pushed her onto one of the front-row seats, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he knelt before her, making sure she couldn't escape his grasp as their lips remained locked in passion.

His hand slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her spine as they traveled upward. She shivered, her breath hitching as he found her bra strap, his fingers pausing just briefly before unhooking it with ease. She slid the bra straps down her shoulders and tugged it free, tossing it to the floor beside them.

Levi pulled back, his hands slid under the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly. The fabric bunched and gathered, rising up just enough to reveal her bare chest, but he stopped before taking it off completely. He paused briefly, admiring the sight before him, and then lowered his head to take one of her nipples between his lips, his tongue gently sucking and circling around it.

Levi’s other hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties under her skirt. He glanced up at her, a silent question in his eyes. She nodded, breath quickening. With a slight smile, he eased her panties down, sliding them off before spreading her legs open, revealing her pussy to him.

Her heavy breathing filled the air as she felt the cool air brush against her sensitive skin. Levi looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. He leaned in, his warm breath tickling her skin as he kissed her inner thigh. She shivered, her body trembling with anticipation. She could feel his tongue tracing a line up her thigh, closer and closer to her entrance. Her breathing got heavier, her fingers gripping the seat as she felt his tongue brush against her.

His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open as he explored her folds with his tongue. She gasped as Levi's tongue flicked against her clit. He started slow, teasing licks that had her squirming.

"Oh god—," she moaned, her head falling back against the seat.

Levi's tongue circled her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance. He lapped at her wetness, savoring her taste as her hips bucked against his face.

Her fingers tangled in Levi's hair, tugging lightly as pleasure coursed through her. He groaned against her, the vibrations sending sparks through her core. His tongue plunged inside her, fucking her as his nose rubbed against her clit.

"Ah, Levi," she gasped, her hips grinding against his face as waves of pleasure washed over her. His tongue worked expertly, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks against her most sensitive spots.

Levi's body tensed as he watched her gentle whimpers turn into desperate moans. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and his own arousal was hard to ignore. With each movement and breath, she stirred something within him. His cock throbbed in response, and he struggled to resist the urge to take her right then and there.

Her thighs began to tremble as she felt the tension building within her. Levi sensed her approaching climax and increased his efforts, his tongue circling her clit faster as he slid two fingers inside her. He curled them upwards, stroking that perfect spot inside her as his mouth continued to work on her clit.

"Oh god, I'm gonna—" she cried out, her back arching as her orgasm hit her hard. Her body shook with the intensity of it, waves of pleasure radiating outwards from her core. Levi didn't let up, his fingers and tongue working her through every aftershock until she collapsed.

Her body trembled as the waves of pleasure slowly went down. Levi pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked up at her with dark, hungry eyes. She was still catching her breath, eyes closed, chest rising and falling, when he stood and sat down in the seat beside her.

The distinct sound of a wrapper caught her attention, snapping her eyes open. She turned to see Levi pulling out a condom. He tore it open with his teeth and rolled it onto his already erect cock. A sharp pang of jealousy shot through her as she desperately tried to ignore the thought of him using this same routine with other girls at the movies.

She gasped, caught off guard as Levi suddenly lifted her and pulled her towards him, his hands firm on her waist. In one fluid, swift motion, he had her straddling his lap, her knees resting on either side of his legs, and her chest pressed close against his, her arms instinctively finding their way to the top of his shoulders. The unexpected intimacy left her breathless, her heart pounding as she met his intense stare.

"You sure about this?" Levi asked.

She nodded eagerly as she felt the head of his cock brush against her wet entrance, teasing her. "Yes, please," she breathed.

She gasped as Levi slowly guided her hips down, his thick cock stretching her as he entered her. She gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin as she adjusted to his size. Levi groaned softly, his hands on her waist as he helped her sink down onto him inch by inch.

"Fuck, you're tight," Levi muttered, his voice strained.

She whimpered as she finally took him all the way inside her. She paused for a moment, panting softly as she got used to the feeling of fullness. Levi's hands roamed her body, caressing her sides and back as he waited patiently for her to be ready.

After a few breaths, she began to move, rolling her hips experimentally. She slowly lifted herself, then sank back down onto Levi's cock. She started moving up and down in a gentle rhythm, enjoying every second of the feeling of him stretching and filling her with each thrust. Levi's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as he thrust up to meet her.

"God, you feel amazing," she gasped, her head falling back as pleasure coursed through her.

Levi leaned closer, pressing his face into her bouncing breasts. He kissed a path down her cleavage before taking one into his mouth and sucking eagerly, leaving behind small red marks that would surely be visible later. His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer as their pace quickened.

Her moans grew louder as Levi hit deeper inside her. She clung to him tightly, her nails digging into his back as the pleasure built. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty theater, mixing with their heavy breathing and gasps of pleasure.

Levi's hands gripped her ass, guiding her movements as he thrust up into her. He could feel her walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper with each roll of her hips.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Levi groaned in her ear.

She whimpered in response, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased her release. She moved hard against him, feeling the friction of his cock hitting all the right spots inside her.

Levi sensed her growing desperation and suddenly gripped her hips, stilling her movements. Before she could protest, Levi lifted her off him and spun her around.

"Bend over," he commanded.

Her heart raced as she obeyed, leaning forward and gripping the seat in front of her. She felt exposed and vulnerable in this position, but the thrill of it sent shivers down her spine.

Levi's hands roamed over her ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. He spread her cheeks, exposing her wet pussy to him. She gasped as she felt the head of his cock teasing her entrance once again. Without warning, Levi thrust forward, filling her completely once again.

She gasped at the sudden fullness, her fingers gripping the seat tighter as Levi began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her gasp loudly.

Levi's hands gripped her hips, steadying her as he lifted her right leg and hooked it over his shoulder, turning her onto her side, as she clung to the backrest of the seat for support. She gasped loudly as Levi slid back inside her, pumping in and out of her in the new angle allowing him to penetrate even deeper than before.

"Ah! Fuck—," she moaned, her voice trembling.

The position left her exposed, her leg held high as Levi's hand roamed her body. His fingers trailed along her inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin before sliding up to cup her breast. She arched into his touch, her head falling back against his shoulder as pleasure coursed through her.

"Mmmph!” She bit her lower lip hard, trying to restrain her cries of ecstasy. She could feel him hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. Her body trembled, growing weak from the intense pleasure as her back arched and her head leaned against the backrest.

Encouraged by her reaction, Levi angled his hips to hit that spot repeatedly. His thrusts became harder and faster, driving her closer to the edge with each movement. She could feel herself getting close, that familiar tension building in her lower abdomen.

"Oh god, Levi," she gasped, her voice breathy and desperate. "Don't stop. I'm so close."

Levi’s grip on her hip tightened as he continued his relentless pace.

"You want more?" Levi asked with a smirk.

"Yes," she whimpered. "Please, I need more."

Levi's fingers found her clit, tracing circles around it in time with his thrusts. Her body trembled as Levi's fingers focused on her clit. The dual sensations of his cock hitting deep inside her and his fingers on her most sensitive spot quickly pushed her towards the edge. Her breath came in short, desperate gasps as the pressure built.

"Oh god, oh god," she chanted, her voice rising in pitch. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna—"

Her words cut off in a loud cry as her orgasm crashed over her. Her entire body contracting with release, her back arching as the pleasure radiated through her. Her cunt clenched around Levi's cock, drawing him in deeper.

Levi groaned at the feeling of her pulsing around him. He lowered her leg back to the floor before he continued thrusting through her climax, prolonging her pleasure. His movements became more erratic as he neared his own release.

Her body trembled as the aftershocks of her peak rippled through her. Levi's breathing became ragged as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust.

"Fuck, I'm close," Levi groaned, his voice strained.

She gasped as she pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts as she felt him swell inside her. Levi let out a final, deep thrust and buried himself completely as he reached his climax. He let out a deep, raspy moan as he came, his hips jerking against her as he filled the condom.

For a moment, they stayed still, both panting heavily as they came down from their highs. Slowly, Levi’s grip on her relaxed and he slowly pulled out, causing her to whimper softly at the loss. He carefully removed the condom, tying it off and setting it aside to dispose of later.

She sat up properly in her seat, pulling her shirt down and fixing her skirt, just as Levi pulled up his pants before sitting beside her. They both sat quietly, their breathing slowly going back to normal.

She could feel the heat from Levi's body next to hers. Her skin felt warm and damp with sweat.

She ran a hand through her messy hair, trying to smooth it down.

Levi leaned his head back against the seat. She glanced over at him, taking in his profile in the dim light. She felt unsure what to say or do now that the heat of the moment had passed.

After a few moments of silence, Levi turned his head slightly, his expression was unreadable as ever. He looked directly at her eyes and she felt her face heating up, suddenly shy in the aftermath of their encounter.

"So...that happened," she murmured.

Levi exhaled quietly, a faint hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. "Not something you usually do on a Friday night, I assume." His tone was as dry as usual, but there was a hint of warmth underneath.

She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head. "Yeah. Definitely not. This was...unexpected."

"Beats watching those cheesy romance movies alone, doesn't it?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling."Some of those movies have their charms."

"Sure they do," Levi replied dryly.

They fell into silence again, but it felt more comfortable now. Her mind was racing, trying to process everything that had just happened. Part of her couldn't believe she'd just had sex with the grumpy janitor in an empty movie theater. Another part of her was already wondering if it would happen again.

"What about you? Is this... a regular thing for you?" She asked.

Levi's expression remained neutral. "Fucking strangers in the theater? Can't say it is." He said looking up at the ceiling.

She bit her lip, hesitating before speaking again. "I'm Y/N, by the way… In case you were wondering who you just… you know."

"Levi," he replied, even though she had just moaned his name a few moments ago.

"So..." she started hesitantly. "Do you make a habit of this? Hooking up with girls after hours?"

Levi turned to look at her fully, his expression serious.

"No," Levi said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. “I don’t. Not really my thing."

Levi’s words hung in the air for a moment before her mind caught up with them. She blinked, trying to process what he had just said. “Wait, really?”

Levi turned his head slightly, his expression blank. “Why would you think otherwise?” he asked.

She bit her lip, feeling a flush creep up her neck. She shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“Well… you had a condom,” she murmured, glancing away. “Kinda seemed like you carry those around at work… you know, just in case.”

Levi’s expression remained deadpan. “I don’t carry them for fun. I have to refill those stupid vending machines in the bathrooms,” he said flatly. “It’s just part of the job.”

She blinked, surprised. She hadn’t expected that answer. Her mind raced as the details sank in, and it actually made sense.

“Oh,” she said, a small laugh escaping her. “Well, that’s... practical.”

Levi nodded as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’d be surprised how often people go to the bathroom for more than just business,” he added disgusted.

Her cheeks burned, and she couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly. The memory of her rushing into the bathroom just a few minutes ago flooded back “Yeah,” she said awkwardly. “That’s... weird.”

They sat in silence for another moment, the air between them charged with an unfamiliar tension.

Her mind raced, unsure what to do or say next. Part of her wanted to lean in and kiss him again, to see if the spark was still there. Another part felt suddenly self-conscious, hyperaware of her messy appearance and the fact that she had just fucked a man she barely knew.

"So,” Levi said, snapping her out of her thoughts, and breaking the silence. “You got anything else planned for tonight?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her.

She was caught off guard by the question. She hesitated for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts before answering, "Uh...no, not really," she said.

She hadn't expected him to ask her something so casual, especially after everything that had just happened.

Levi’s lips curled into a sly smirk, his eyes filled with intrigue as he leaned in closer. He gently lifted her chin and tilted her head back, causing her to look up at him.

"Good," he said as he ran his thumb down her lip, watching her closely as she trembled under his touch. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

3K notes · View notes

smileysuh · 4 months ago

Text

model cowboy

🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun's motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, dry humping, breast worship, slow and adequate foreplay/pussy stretching/prepping, pussy eating, fingering, praise, slight switchy power dynamic but Jae is generally the dom/top, slight overstim, face riding, slight hair pulling, precum (jae is horny), dirty talk, sappy sex, alcohol, etc… I pet names: (hers) superstar.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.2k

🍭 aus.actor!Jaehyun, singer!y/n, fake dating au, enemies to lovers au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. it was actually so fun to have small clips of TMZ style gossip reporting- loved that I was able to try different things with this fic :)

Prologue

In this week's news, our favorite kids' show alumni are back on the scene together. Beloved model and actor Jung Jaehyun teams up with childhood costar (y/n) (l/n) for her new single Model Cowboy. This song will mark the kick-off of her third album, and the music video is set to start production sometime early next month, with the song coming out on iTunes and other streaming platforms sometime in the new year.

There’s a lot of buzz on social media about this pairing, as the two stars were ‘shipped’ incessantly in their teen years, with one user commenting, “It’s like Britney and Justin Timberlake all over again! Ah!!!!!”

While Jaehyun has had a string of relationships over the years, our favorite girl power singer y/n has only recently ended a long-term relationship with football player Lee Jeno. When asked how this separation would affect her new album, y/n had this to say: “I want to draw on the pain of a breakup because that feeling is so universal, but at the same time, I want the album to be fun. It’s about ending one cycle, and sure, giving yourself the space and grace to mourn that loss, but also looking forward at the future and other opportunities that come your way when you go through something like that.”

When asked about the new single Model Cowboy, y/n noted, “It’s about going back to your roots and finding that cowboy, blue-collar man. I think the trades are kind of in vogue right now, for all of the best reasons. We want salt of the earth, we want a man who will provide and take care of us- not everything is luxury and partying. There’s such peace in stability, and I want to honor the simplicity of good relationships, which we all deserve to experience.”

Despite all of this, when our reporters enquired about Jaehyun as the star of the music video, who, to us and many fans on social media, doesn’t scream ‘salt of the earth, cowboy, or stability’ our singer simply responded with “No comment.”

Yikes.

However, there may be hope for this fan-favorite couple yet. When Jaehyun was asked about his role in the music video at a recent film premiere for his new action movie ‘Home Grown’ he had this to say: “I did a few music videos in my early twenties, but never with anyone I really knew or admired. I’ve been focused on movies and fashion recently, but I’m excited to do a shorter-form art piece. y/n and her team are very creative, and I can’t wait to see the finished result.”

I can safely say that we can’t wait either.

Back when y/n was just eighteen, putting out her first album, there was one song that everyone thought she wrote about Jaehyun. We couldn’t help but bring this up to the actor. When questioned if he’d inspired y/n’s first hit single, ‘Forget About Him’, Jaehyun said, “That’s not for me to say, you’ll have to ask her.” This response revived years of conspiracy on social media, and we’re all still itching for the truth.

Production for Model Cowboy is set for the end of the month, and permits have been granted for shooting in California’s Joshua Tree National Park. We’ll all be on the edge of our seats waiting for promo pictures and behind-the-scenes photos.

Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates.

One:

You’re in your trailer with your assistant, Mark, waiting for your call time, and you can’t help the irritation that’s filling you. It’s the first day of shooting for Model Cowboy, and every other time you’ve filmed a music video, you’ve been excited about the creative journey of turning a song into a visual expression- but not today, and there’s one huge reason for your angst.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you groan. “Jaehyun wasn’t my first choice for this, and he’ll never be my first choice for this- it takes away from the meaning of the song to have him starring with me!”

Mark frowns. “I mean, he’s not exactly a model cowboy-”

“More like a model pretending to be a cowboy,” you scoff.

Your assistant sighs. “Management just wants you two to do this, fake date for a while, promote your music and his upcoming projects, draw intrigue-”

“I know it’s what management wants, I was forced to sign the contract,” you snap. Then you release a breath, getting control of yourself. This isn’t Mark’s fault, in fact, he argued your side in the meeting about this two months ago. “I just… I’m not a huge fan of Jaehyun.”

“You always said he was the most overly confident, smug, pretty boy that came out of your kids’ show,” Mark nods. He’s very good at summing up your difficulties, as he’s your most trusted confidant. You’d never dream of being vocal about your personal opinions of Jaehyun to anyone else, your PR training has taught you not to be fully honest, to prioritize your reputation as a ‘good girl’- but Mark, he gets you.

“At the end of the day,” you sigh, “sure, Jae might be a better actor, but I’m the better singer.”

“I know you won’t want to hear this-”

“Then don’t say it.”

Mark sends you a pointed look. “He did do that cover of ‘I Like Me Better When I’m With You,’ and everyone loved it.”

“Well, Jaehyun doesn’t have three albums and a Grammy. He did a cover. It’s not like that’s difficult.”

Before Mark can say anything else, there’s a knock on your trailer. You jump up, ready to start the day of shooting, but when you open your door, it’s not a PA standing there to take you to location, it’s Jaehyun.

He’s dressed in a cowboy-style outfit, however, it’s more runway than practical, and he’s also wearing the same smug smile he always used to have on when you were working together as kids and young adults.

“Long time no see,” Jaehyun muses.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t pretend you’re happy to see me.”

You know your dislike for Jaehyun is shared with his own disdain for you, and you’d noted that to your managers. How are either of you going to pretend to be in love when this general dissatisfaction with each other is evident every time you’re in the same room?

“Thought I’d come to discuss the whole fake dating script with you, you know, kind of like running lines.”

“There aren’t any lines for our fake dating scenario yet, it’s improv,” you remind him.

“Then, how about boundaries?”

You release a groan. “Fuck it, let’s go find my PA, get in a car to go to location, and we can talk during the drive.”

Two:

There’s a tension in the SUV. With you on his left, your assistant behind you, and Jaehyun’s own manager, Johnny, behind him, everything anyone says will be noted. In fact, Jaehyun’s been listening to Johnny argue on the phone about a brand deal for the past ten minutes.

You’d said you’d discuss the whole fake dating thing, but instead, your eyes are glued to your iPad as you look over the music video notes.

Jaehyun has always found you to be a very focused woman, he might go so far as to say you have a stick up your ass. Your rigidity is a stark contrast to his own ‘go with the flow’ type of way of doing things, and it’s one of the reasons you’d never gotten along well on sets.

When he’d come to your trailer to discuss PR lines, it had been because he was trying to meet you where you’re at. He thought you’d want to plan. In fact, he’d found it almost laughable when you’d told him it would be improv because out of the two of you, he’s the one that’s always excelled in that area.

You have this face you put on for others, but Jaehyun’s always seen through it. You lack confidence in yourself, and that’s why you overcompensate by being anal about details, about practicing so you never fail when the time comes.

Jaehyun leans closer to you, getting a look at the music video notes. The aesthetic board is very desert, horses, sand, sparkles, disco balls, and mirrors- for someone who said Model Cowboy was about finding someone who wasn’t all luxury, there are definitely luxury items in the music video notes.

“So… tell me again what the song’s about?” Jaehyun asks.

You sigh. “Mark sent you a sound clip, didn’t he? Did you even bother to listen to the song?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun shrugs, “but I wanted to hear the details from you.”

You take an exasperated deep breath, putting your iPad down on your lap. “It’s about falling in love with someone who’s very salt of the Earth-”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your lips part in shock and annoyance. “It means a man who’s salt of the Earth.”

“Yeah, you said that, but like…” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh at how bad you’re fumbling this, “what does that mean, to you.”

Mark shifts in the seat behind you, leaning forward to join the conversation. “It means someone who is honest, and reasonable. Someone who doesn’t think they’re special or better than others.”

You flash Jaehyun a pointed look. “So basically, not you.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “Baby, neither of us are salt of the earth if that’s your definition.”

He can see how annoyed you are, can pick up the micro movements, the way your fingers are tapping on the edge of the iPad. It’s a rhythmic thing, something you do to calm yourself, and he’d noticed that pattern in you when you were much younger.

“This whole fake dating thing was not my idea,” you snap finally.

“Yeah, wasn’t mine either. We both have PR managers.”

You roll your eyes, letting out another exasperated sound of annoyance.

Jaehyun kind of likes poking at you like this. He’d been worried that you’d be super anal about this whole project, and while you’re definitely fighting for control, he likes to jab you where your guard is down. It feels like a win to him, and deep in Jaehyun’s core, he knows it’s not a nice thing to do, but he simply can’t help himself.

You have a history, years of interactions and bickering- he hasn’t seen you in a long time, but getting on your nerves is as easy as it’s always been, and that schoolboy enjoyment from picking on you is as potent as it ever was.

Three:

You’re a couple of hours into your day, and you’re doing some shots with horses now. You’d chosen Hwasa as your director, she’s a visionary in the type of aesthetic you want, and you’ve worked with her numerous times before. She’s very girl power, which is what you love, and you also enjoy the fact that she sees this as a collaboration.

You’ve worked with male directors in the past who think your music video is about showing their vision, and in your early days as a teen, you hadn’t been able to find your voice. Now, as an adult, you have the final say on everything, and Hwasa is the best partner you could think of for a project like this.

The two of you are by the cameras, making sure the shot will be good. The horses are just hanging out with their trainers, and Jaehyun’s a few meters away under the sun tent, waiting for direction.

“So… I’m thinking…” you look at Jaehyun, then at the saddles on the horses, “What if we try a shot with bareback.”

Hwasa casts you a sideways glance. “I mean… visually, I think that would be nicer, it would encapsulate freedom, but at the same time… is Jaehyun skilled enough to mount while bareback?”

“He’s an actor isn’t he?” You turn to look at Jaehyun. God, you can’t wait for him to fall off the horse and eat shit. “Jae!”

He’s sitting in a chair, his head tipped back, cowboy hat obscuring his face. The sound of your voice makes him sit up, his fingers pushing the rim of the hat up so he can look at you.

“Come over here!” Hwasa calls.

He nods, standing then swaggering over to you. He’s having way too much fun in his little cowboy outfit for your liking. “What’s up?”

“How do you feel about trying this scene on bareback?” Hwasa asks.

Jaehyun looks at the two of you, then over at the horse. “We can give it a go.”

You try to hide your smile, God, this is going to be so satisfying.

Hwasa goes to consult with the safety guys and trainers, who take off the saddle, then talk Jaehyun through how to mount a horse without the aid of stirrups. He nods nonchalantly, as smug as ever.

The scene gets ready, with you and Hwasa behind the camera. “Action!” she calls.

Jaehyun approaches the horse. He stops next to it, stroking it’s hair. You watch him get a gentle grip, and then, in one fluid motion, he hoists himself up, swinging his leg over the horse’s back before steadying himself into a seated position. He guides the horse by its hair to make a neat circle, looking like the most skilled cowboy ever, then he turns and flashes you that smug smile of his as Hwasa yells “cut!”

“That was amazing,” Hwasa tells you. “God, Jaehyun was such a good choice for this.”

“Really? How so?” you ask.

“Just, I know he’s not a stereotypical salt of the earth man. He’s not all American, he’s not a cowboy with a five o'clock shadow- this… dichotomy of visuals versus lyrical interpretation, how any man can be the right man if given the chance, despite all these stereotypes-”

You can feel your expression fall. Sometimes you hate how artsy Hwasa is, with her bachelor's in English and her way with words and interpretations. You can’t argue with her analysis, because if that’s what she gets out of the visual of Jaehyun flawlessly mounting a horse bareback, then that’s her view of it.

“Do you want to try to mount bareback too?” Hwasa asks, drawing herself out of her musings to focus on the scenes she wants in the time allotted.

You release a sigh. “I guess we can give it a try.”

“If it’s too dangerous-”

“If Jae can do it, I can too,” you insist, not wanting to be one-upped by him.

You’re in a long flowy silver dress with a slit up the thigh, and you remove your white overcoat. Jenni, your makeup artist double-checks you, and you’re handed your flashy disco-ball-styled cowboy hat.

The safety team and trainers give you a talk about how to mount the horse, and after listening carefully, you feel ready to take on the task.

Your horse is black, and your outfit is meant to be a contrast. It’s a beautiful horse, and when Hwasa calls ‘Action!’ you approach it carefully. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, and you stop next to the large animal, stroking it for a moment while you gain the courage to try to mount it.

As you make the leap, hoisting yourself up- Jaehyun calls out, “Don’t slip!”

And of course, that’s exactly what happens. Your leg can’t get a grip over the horse, you trip up a little with the silky material of your dress, and just like that, you’re back on the ground with two feet, sending a death glare over your shoulder at Jaehyun.

“It was a nice effort!” Hwasa encourages you.

“Not many people get it on their first try,” a trainer agrees.

You watch Jaehyun smile smugly, and an annoyance unlike any you’ve ever experienced fills you as he meticulously watches you try to complete the scene.

Four:

It’s near the end of your first day of filming. Hwasa had decided on a one day permit for the horses in the desert, opting to get all the scenes involving the large, beautiful animals done in one big go, and now, she’s explaining the final shots she needs to you and Jaehyun.

“So, we’re skipping through the linear timeline a little right now,” your director explains. “This is one of the final shots of the music video, so we’re going to imagine that at this point, the two of you are completely in love.” You and Jaehyun exchange a look. “You’re riding on horseback in the desert. We want bliss, joy, a comfortable kind of peace that comes when you can truly be yourself with another person, a freedom.”

She gazes pointedly at you and Jaehyun.

“I think we can manage,” you scene partner says, but there’s an edge of hesitation in his voice.

“We’re thinking ‘Ride’ by Lana Del Rey, but instead of motorcycles, you’re on horses. Think about how effortless she looked, how devil-may-care,” Hwasa, ever the Lana Del Rey enthusiast, explains. “You know her song ‘Young and Beautiful?’ There’s a line, ‘Hot summer nights, mid July, when you and I were forever wild.’ Do you guys have that?”

You love that Hwasa enjoys poetic music, it’s one of the reasons you’d been so drawn to her when you wanted to shift out of your role as a child star turned pop icon. Hwasa had been adamant about the Lana Del Rey stylings that she wanted to influence ‘Model Cowboy,’ the American Dream, wild and poetic love.

However, with all that said, you’d never imagined Lana Del Rey would be tainted by the imaginings of Jaehyun as your lover, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

You’ve already gone over blocking, and Hwasa’s explained the drones and cameras set up to take the shots, so now, all that’s left to do, is get through the day.

Jaehyun can tell you’re lost in thought, he can see the dissatisfied look on your face, but before he can call you on it, Johnny pulls him to the side.

“Good luck with this one,” Johnny muses, patting him on the shoulder. “And don’t fall off your horse, you’ve got to be in Milan in a couple of days for the big Prada show.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jaehyun brushes his manager off. “I’ve got this.”

“That’s my little go-getter actor,” Johnny grins, having scored a goldmine when he landed Jaehyun as his client, despite being a very young and new manager in the industry. “Be the Model Cowboy you always wanted to be.”

Jaehyun takes a deep breath before joining you. “You ready?” he asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh.

“Okay guys, we’re in love!” Hwasa bellows. “We’ve got this! And… action!”

Your expression immediately changes, suddenly, you’re grinning, in fact, you’re glowing. It takes a second for Jaehyun to follow your lead, but then, the two of you are playfighting and tickling, laughing like young lovers who are tasting what it feels like to have found their soulmate for the very first time.

Jaehyun knows the blocking, he knows when to wrap his arms around you after a few feet of chasing, when to lift you up and spin you as you laugh and gently kick. He knows when to set you down, going in for a kiss only for you to break free and dart to your horse, effortlessly swinging yourself up onto the black stallion and taking off.

Jaehyun is right behind you, mounting his own white horse and following.

He does his best to keep an easy going, loving expression, and at first, it’s a little difficult. But, as more seconds of the two of you riding through the desert go by, Jaehyun remembers the way he felt about you when you first met.

You’d been just kids then. Two young teens still growing into your bodies, into your personalities. He remembers how beautiful you’d been, even then, how your smile had lit up the room, as it does now when you turn your head to look over your shoulder at him, making sure the distance between you is still correct.

Of course it’s correct, if you want to be anal, Jaehyun can be anal too, and he’s not going to give you any reason to nitpick after the day he’s had.

No, Jaehyun’s an actor. He’s a professional.

In fact, he’s a Model Cowboy as he chases you through the desert on horseback.

God, the way you’re looking back at him- you’ve really grown into your looks, and Jaehyun’s not making things up when he says you’re glowing. The golden hour sun is hitting you just right, and suddenly, Jaehyun’s heart is racing. He feels alive, he feels- as if this whole thing is real. He forgets the cameras for just a few moments, getting lost in the experience of being young, wild, and free, with you.

Something shifts inside of him, although, Jaehyun’s so enthralled with you that he can’t quite pin what’s just taken place.

The scene is over all too quickly, the two of you making your blocking mark at the bottom of one of the rocky cliff faces that litter Joshua Tree National Park. You slow your horse, coming to a stop, your expression falling.

Jaehyun feels his own smile drop as he stops next to you. He swallows thickly, not knowing quite what to say, so, he decides to note, “Wow, your acting has really improved!”

He means it as a compliment, but your expression turns even more sour, and he knows he’s messed up.

“Well that’s a back handed compliment if I’ve ever heard one,” you scowl.

“I-” Jaehyun’s words get caught in his throat, and he has to swallow a lump just to continue, “I meant it in a good way, I was trying to be nice.”

“If that was you trying to be nice, it makes sense why you can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month or so,” you snap.

Jaehyun’s chest hurts, and he stares at you in shock. It’s all the more painful, because in some ways, what you’ve just said is true. He’s used to only dating models, people in the industry who aren’t as successful as he is. He’s only ever entered relationships where there’s a power imbalance, and he supposes in a situation like that, any negative feedback could be biting- yet, it’s different with you.

You’re the one with the power here, and it’s clear you won’t take any criticisms from him. You stand up for yourself, in a way no woman ever has around Jaehyun.

As he watches you lead your horse away, signaling the end of the interaction, Jaehyun realizes maybe he kind of likes that you’re very powerful in your own right. Maybe he likes a woman who can defend herself and doesn’t just take what the world throws at her.

Maybe… just maybe, after all this time, he likes you.

Five:

The locations crew had found a really cool oldstyle cowboy motel for everyone to stay at. It had been relatively inexpensive compared to other filming location lodgings in the past, and renting the whole place, including the mess hall, for four days had been the obvious choice.

You’re sitting with Mark and Hwasa, all three of you have trays of food from the buffet, but none of you are focused on eating. Hwasa has her iPad out, and she’s going through the shots of the day with Mark. You remind yourself when you peak at the screen that there’s still a lot of editing to do, but so far, it’s looking quite good.

Your stylist, Jenni, is also with you, and she’s capturing the majority of your attention as she shows you pictures of the costumes set for tomorrow. Your long silver dress is being swapped out for a pink palette upscale cowgirl aesthetic, with Jaehyun in creams and blues to match the lighter blush colours.

You notice Jaehyun walk into the large dining area. He and his manager, Johnny, head straight for the food, and they tilt their heads together, thick as thieves out of ear shot.

When they’re done filling their trays, they begin to head to a table, and that’s when Hwasa calls them over. “Rough shots,” she explains. “Jae, you sit next to y/n and I’ll show you both some of the details.”

You flash Jenni a look, hating that she has to move over for the model to sit.

Jaehyun is awkward as he does so, apologizing to Jenni, which is his only saving grace.

When he settles, your shoulders are touching, and he leans closer to get a look at the iPad that Hwasa is holding. Hwasa doesn’t show all the shots, just her favourites, and you have to admit, the visuals are stunning even before any editing for light and colour.

Then, Hwasa shows you all the footage from the last scene you’d shot, the one with you and Jaehyun playfighting then leaping on horses.

“This is so good,” Hwasa tells you. “You both look so natural on horses, the drone shots are perfect, and the golden hour? Stunning.”

While all of that is true, you’re more focused on how in love you and Jaehyun look. It’s weird to be seeing you and Jaehyun like this. It’s almost out of body, or doppleganger realm, because how the heck did you manage to look so happy and in love with Jeong Jaehyun of all people?

You feel the actor shift next to you, and you get the sense that he’s uncomfortable with it as well… however, out of the two of you, he has way more experience on screen. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he looks very much in love, he gets paid big money to sell those emotions.

“Anyways,” Hwasa sighs, “y/n, tomorrow morning, we shoot sunrise and into the afternoon, then Jaehyun, the latter half of the day is us at the ranch for some more ‘classic’ cowboy scenes.”

“Sounds good,” Jaehyun mumbles. With one last nod of appreciation, he stands up, and it’s as if he can’t get to another table fast enough.

Six:

They’ve been shooting Jaehyun’s cowboy scenes for a couple of hours when he notices your arrival on set. You’re not in the pink costume he’d heard about you wearing this morning, and you’re not all dolled up either.

You’re in a light jacket and jean shorts, a more relaxed look, and yet, you’re still stunning.

You’re next to Hwasa, looking at camera angles and shots, and while you seem to be making a few notes to the director, Jaehyun appreciates that you aren’t trying to micromanage him yourself.

Shooting continues for another hour, and Hwasa calls a short break so she can figure out what else needs to be done today while they have the ranch.

At first, Jaehyun just goes and grabs a water. Johnny is hyping him up, but the actor is hardly paying attention, his gaze focused on you instead.

Jaehyun can’t help himself, he walks over to you. You look up from Hwasa like a deer in headlights, and something about it is very endearing. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, can I uh… talk to you for a sec?” Jaehyun asks.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you nod, “come with me.”

You grab his arm, dragging him away. Jaehyun’s a little confused as to where you’re taking him, and when he finds himself in the privacy of a secluded location behind his trailer, he’s even more confounded.

“Uh….” he starts, wetting his lips.

“What did you need?”

“I was just… guess I was wondering what you were doing here? Didn’t your shoot finish a couple of hours ago? Figured you’d be getting some rest at the motel.”

“It’s my music video,” you remind him. “Also… management thought it would be good to let tabloids get some shots of us shooting today, that’s why I pulled you over here, we allowed them the field of view to your trailer.”

“So that’s why you took me to such a secluded spot,” Jaehyun grins.

“It’s the only reason I touched your arm,” you retort.

“Careful, don’t look so angry,” Jaehyun warns you, his hands reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your tabloid shots.”

You roll your eyes. “Tabloid won’t be on the property till after your last take in an hour or so. Don’t jump the gun, cowboy. After your next scene, you can be as much of a little model slut as you’d like.”

“You think I’m a slut?” Jaehyun asks, shocked that you’re talking to him in this way.

“Am I wrong?”

Jaehyun stands there for a moment, and then, he releases his grip on your hips. “Guess not.”

“So, after you’re done the next scene, we come here, and see if we can pretend to like each other,” you instruct.

“We just have to be as convincing as we were yesterday,” Jaehyun muses.

You open your mouth to respond, but then you shut it, and Jaehyun’s left wondering what you would have said for the next hour.

He wonders how far you’ll let him take things, and part of him wishes you’d answered his question about boundaries yesterday. This feels like uncharted waters, and his heart is racing when he finally meets you behind his trailer again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Do your worst.”

Jaehyun feels himself begin to salivate, and he swallows thickly. There’s no way he’ll do his worst. His worst, would be throwing you against the trailer and having his way with you right here and now- asserting his dominance and seeing if you push back in any way- he suspects you like him more than you let on, after all, Jaehyun’s never met a girl he couldn’t tame.

Life’s hard when you have a stunning face and a hot body to match.

Jaehyun reaches for your hips, pulling you closer. His skin is tingling with excitement. “I’m going to say something funny, and you should laugh,” he whispers.

You grin broadly, but the expression doesn’t meet your eyes. “Depends on if what you say is funny or not,” you counter.

Jaehyun’s mind suddenly goes blank. His pick-up lines, his jokes- they all fly out the proverbial window. He doesn’t know what to say, so instead, he begins to lean in-

You turn your head at the last second and Jaehyun’s lips graze past your cheek. He’s a little taken aback at first, but he leans into it, reminding himself that you’d told him to improv. “Is this okay?” he whispers in your ear, still wanting to double-check with you although every fiber of his being is telling him to just do what he wants.

“It’s okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms loosely around the back of his neck. “You’re the actor.”

For some reason, it feels like a compliment that you’re making the distinction between the two of you. You’re right, he’s the actor, and you’re the Grammy award-winning singer.

His lips continue softly on your cheek, and then he adjusts, pressing kisses down to your throat. You shift in his embrace, tilting your head to the side to give him more access.

“Jae-” you warn.

“Just a few more, for the tabloids,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck moreso than kissing now.

You release a sigh, and with your chests pressed together, Jaehyun can feel your heart racing.

He wonders if you can feel his going a mile a minute too.

Seven:

You eat in your room with Mark, too shaken up by your interaction with Jaehyun earlier to dare enter the mess hall yourself.

“So, I was just sent the tabloid pictures for final approval,” Mark sighs, joining you on the bed so you can see his phone. “They’ll be up in the morning.”

“Just choose your favourites,” you murmur.

“Uh…” Mark blinks at you. “I really think you should look at them with me.”

You take a deep breath. “Fine.”

Shifting your gaze to Mark’s phone, he scrolls through the shots, and you hate how natural they look. You and Jaehyun just look good together, and it sets your teeth on edge.

“The cheek kissing is cute,” Mark says thoughtfully. “The way you’re holding each other looks real.”

It looks too real, in fact.

“I’m just happy we have opposing shoot schedules tomorrow,” you admit with another deep breath. You can see Mark side-eying you, and you hold up a hand before he can respond. “Don’t say a word.”

“It’s just…” Mark struggles at times to surpass your commands. He’s your assistant first and foremost, but your company also expects him to have somewhat of a managerial role over you, and you know it’s a fight for him to find balance at times. “Everyone has shipped the two of you since you were younger. People say it’s like Britney and Justin in the Mickey Mouse Club House show- then you were teenagers, and you went different directions-”

“Well, Britney and Justin didn’t end up together, did they?” It’s a rhetorical question, and from the way Mark sighs, he knows it.

“You’re missing the point,” he struggles.

You turn your gaze to him. “Am I?”

Mark releases a breath, dropping the issue. You feel bad shutting him down like this, but at the same time, you don’t want to open the can of ‘Jaehyun’ worms, if you will. No, you’d much rather ignore it for right now.

You’re filming a music video for your new album, and you have much bigger fish to fry.

Eight:

If Jaehyun wasn’t needed for business calls with Johnny today, he might be on set watching you, and Jaehyun can’t get it out of his head as he chills in his motel room and listens to his manager working.

It’s three hours into calls and details before Johnny is able to take a break, and he sets down his phone with a pointed look on his face. “You’re being weird.”

“Am I?” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh, but there’s little humor in it.

“Talk to me,” Johnny says lightly, giving an air of friendship despite the fact that he’s still in his role as manager. “Talk to me about this whole PR, fake dating thing.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Those fake tabloid pictures of you and y/n from yesterday on set dropped an hour ago, they’re trending on Twitter,” Johnny points out.

“It’s called ‘X’ now, actually.”

Johnny narrows his eyes. “I’m never going to call it ‘X.’ It’s fucking Twitter.”

Jaehyun can’t help but laugh, for real this time. He loves Johnny, loves him for all of his little millennial quirks.

“Honestly?” Jaehyun sighs, feeling his energy sift again. “Y/N’s super uptight, but… she can act like she’s not, and that’s a different side of her that I wasn’t really expecting.”

Johnny is quiet for a few moments. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“That song from her first album, ‘Forget About Him,’ was that written about you? Is there a past here?”

“Nah, it wasn’t about me,” Jaehyun assures his manager. “As far as I know, she’s never been interested in me like that. We had this other costar, Haechan-”

“Lee Donghyuck?”

“Yeah, him. They uh, I think there was something there between them, for a little while at least.”

Jaehyun can feel Johnny’s assessing gaze, and he averts his own eyes.

“It almost seems like you’re jealous, Jae.”

“Yeah, well, Haechan never went on to become a brand ambassador for Prada or star in movies, he was just some little child star.” Jaehyun can taste the bitterness in his words, but he can’t help himself.

“You know who’s not just a child star?” Johnny asks. “Y/N. You two are, without argument, the most successful people to come out of the show you were in when you were younger.”

“We’re both very driven,” Jaehyun admits. “I do admire that about her, she has a Grammy for fucks sake.”

“What I’m getting from this,” Johnny concludes, “is that you’re completely fine with this whole fake dating arrangement.”

“Well, as my manager, you should know I’m a good actor,” Jaehyun counters.

Johnny laughs. “Sure you are. Tomorrow is the last day of shooting, you’ve got that big kissing scene, I guess we’ll all see how good of an actor you are then.”

Nine:

There’s something comical about the fact that both you and Jaehyun are chewing gum in preparation for your kissing scene. Together, you’re with Hwasa as she goes over the vision for the shot.

“So, we’re thinking Jae’s going to grab your neck,” Hwasa starts, “gently, of course. More of a cupping the nape of your neck than a grab, actually. It’s going to be slow, a slow exploration of moving closer. Lots of close-ups of the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes. It’s about breaking the distance, about two worlds colliding and connecting in a way that feels natural, unrushed, and just, electric.”

Jaehyun nods, looking at you. “We can do this.” You wish you were as sure as he sounds right now.

Jaehyun takes out a tissue, and the two of you spit out your gum, disposing the trash before moving into position.

The shot is on the edge of a cliff, with the desert and sunset stretching out like a vast, yellowy-orange ocean behind you.

It’s as you approach your marked spot that you remember something. “Jae,” you ask softly, “are you still afraid of heights?”

You watch him take a deep breath, and he nods, standing a few feet from the drop-off. You notice he’s looking everywhere but down, and something inside of you softens for him.

Here you are, worried about the kiss, and here this man is, worried about falling off the edge of a cliff and dying.

“We’ve got some space between us and the edge,” you tell him, stepping closer. “Here, grab my hips, we’re both steady, we’re not going to fall.”

Jaehyun’s lips part, and you can see the confusion on his face.

You suppose you’ve never been nurturing to him, but you can’t help yourself with this. You don’t mean to be a bitch, in fact, you’d argue adamantly that you’re not a malicious person. Jaehyun just pisses you off a lot, and his behavior generally merits a reaction- but right now, he deserves a bit of peace of mind, and you can see him relax a little as his hands grab your waist.

“Feels more steady?” you double-check.

“Yeah.” He swallows thickly, nodding.

“We’ve got this,” you assure him.

“Are we ready!?” Hwasa calls.

You flash a thumbs up, turning your attention back to Jaehyun.

“And… action!”

The two of you simply stare at each other for a moment. Hwasa had said she wanted this to be slow. You’re shocked at how exposed you feel looking up into Jaehyun’s eyes. He really is a very handsome man, and he looks so extremely vulnerable right now.

His gaze shifts to your lips, and you allow him to take the lead. One of his hands moves up your body, cupping the back of your neck gently. You can smell the spearmint on his breath, as he moves closer.

You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun’s motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.

It feels good to be kissing Jaehyun, and the realization makes you break the kiss, opening your eyes and blinking in an effort to get yourself out of the daze that’s come over you.

“That was amazing!” Hwasa’s voice is like a slap. “I’ve got some shots, but I’ll need you guys to do it one more time.”

Jesus.

“You good?” Jaehyun asks.

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Let’s just go again.”

You’re kissing him again all too soon, and this time, it’s like fireworks. Your heart is racing in your chest, your skin electrified as you cling to Jaehyun, diving deeper into the feeling of him.

This time, he’s the one to break the kiss, and he looks away immediately. You notice him breathing heavily, but before you can say anything, Hwasa’s approaching again.

“Okay, that was amazing, and I hate to be that person, but I’ve decided I want drone shots too, so… third time is the charm?” She looks between you and Jaehyun and both of you are quick to nod, although, neither of you has yet found your voice.

“You good?” you ask him as Hwasa goes back to her spot, her main drone lifting into the sky with an electric thrum.

“Yeah, just one more,” Jaehyun says, voice wavering.

The two of you get back into position, and you study Jaehyun carefully. You’re looking at him, truly looking at him, and he’s looking at you with the same fierceness. You can tell something has shifted between the two of you, but at this time, you’re unsure how deep it really is.

He kisses you again on Hwasa’s direction, and you wonder how normal it is to feel this way during a kissing scene with a fellow acting partner.

You’ve never had to do this before, but you know Jaehyun has. He’s been in two or three rom-coms, there must be a way to stay professional after kissing a costar, right?

But God, he still feels so good.

You’d thought - or maybe hoped - that the first kiss would be a one-off. That the second wouldn’t be as great, and by now, maybe the butterflies would have escaped the cage in your tummy, but no, the feeling surging through you is as powerful and electric as it had been with the first meeting of your lips.

He leaves you breathless.

Standing on the edge of the cliff with Jaehyun, you realize you’re in deep shit.

Ten:

Jaehyun notices you in the mess hall. You’re looking over food, plating up your dinner, and he decides now is as good a time as any to talk to you.

He doesn’t mean to be a quiet, sneaky sort of guy, but he can’t help the lightness of his walk. When he goes to stand next to you, saying “Hi,” you practically jump, your food stray scrambling a little as you compose yourself.

“Jesus,” you cuss. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… uh, the shoot is over, I head to Milan tomorrow-”

“Yup, I know your schedule,” you nod, sighing. “It’s in our contract that I come to your show and be front row to watch you, remember?”

“Right, yeah.” Jaehyun swallows thickly. “So… reporters are going to be asking a lot of questions about us.”

“Uh huh, that was the point of the paparazzi pics.” You continue filling your tray with food, so unbothered and cool in your movements that it makes Jaehyun’s heart beat faster. Are you unaffected by your kiss from earlier? Because Jaehyun can’t get the feeling of your lips out of his mind.

“I just uh, wanted to say, you can trust me to give the right answers and stuff. I’m PR trained.”

God, Jaehyun wants to strangle himself. He feels so nervous, and the look you give him tells him that you think he’s being a dork. He’s definitely being a dork-

“Okay?” you laugh. “I’m PR trained too, we both took classes when we were kids, remember?”

“Right,” he’s such an idiot, “yeah. Anyways, I guess… I guess I’ll see you in Milan in a couple of days.”

“Sounds good.”

With one final nod, Jaehyun leaves you be, and he beats himself up about the awkwardness of the conversation for the rest of the night.

Eleven:

In this week's news, our favourite kids’ show alumni were spotted getting close on set. y/n’s new music video, Model Cowboy, is set to be one of the videos of the summer, starring Prada ambassador Jung Jaehyun. The two have a long history, and while there have been rumors about their romantic connection in the past, nothing has ever been confirmed… until now.

TMZ dropped a photo of the two embracing outside Jaehyun’s trailer, and the internet officially broke. #modelcowboy has been going absolutely wild on X. One user wrote: “all my dreams are finally coming true! Thank you mama e papa!” While another took to X to say this: “At first, I didn’t love Jaehyun as the whole ‘model cowboy’ trope. He just doesn’t fit it for me. But I don’t know, something about the pictures of him and y/n just feels right- guess you don’t need a history as a rancher to be a cowboy, he’s definitely lassoed my heart.“

So far, the general consensus around our new ‘It Couple’ is that it’s been a long time coming. While there’s no official confirmation about their relationship, one of our reporters caught Jaehyun after a show in Milan last night. When asked about their time shooting the music video together, the actor/Prada ambassador had this to say about y/n: “She was amazing. The whole experience [filming Model Cowboy] went without a hitch. She’s super talented, one of the most driven women I know, and I can’t wait to see how this music video pans out for her.”

When asked about the pictures of the two of them that have been trending, Jaehyun said: “I mean, she’s beautiful, she’s an icon- who wouldn’t want a chance with her?” When the reporter clarified by asking if they’re dating, Jaehyun noted, “You’ll have to ask y/n, I’d never be ‘that’ guy who would speak for a powerful woman like her.”

All we can say is damn, that’s a green flag if we’ve ever seen one.

Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates.

Twelve:

There’s nothing like the closing night of a show. Jaehyun feels elated, he feels on the top of his game, like nothing could bring him down.

“You were amazing,” another model tells him, fluffing her hair up with her hand as the two of them decompress backstage.

“You were amazing, Vivienne,” he retorts, never feeling more giddy and boyish than he does now.

“I’m good, but I’m not model of the year good,” she grins.

“You’re still new,” Jaehyun assures her, although, pride is swelling through him.

He sees her skin flush, her eye lashes fluttering at him-

“Jae?” your voice draws him out of his assessment of Vivienne, and he turns in shock to find you standing there.

You look stunning, your stylist team has really outdone themselves with your looks for the past couple of days- but there’s a sour set to your lips that immediately tells him something is wrong.

“Y/N?” he asks.

“Am I… interrupting something?” your gaze shifts to Vivienne, and Jaehyun immediately understands what’s going on.

“Excuse us,” he says to Vivienne, grabbing your hand to tug you a few feet away. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you jealous right now?”

“No,” you retort immediately. “What reason would I have to be jealous?”

You’re making a big show about the notion of jealousy being ridiculous, but Jaehyun knows he’s hit the nail on the head.

“No reason at all,” Jaehyun assures you, and he truly means it. He knows this whole dating this is a PR move, but he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head all week. Every time he’s walked past you sitting front row at the shows- well, he’s been feeling butterflies in a way that he’s hardly been able to admit to himself. “Hey, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “Your show is over, we both fly different places tomorrow morning, management will set our schedules to keep up this whole fake dating thing, I just wanted to say goodbye before I go back to my hotel.”

“Oh, right.” Jaehyun can feel his heart sink in his chest. “Uh… where are you staying?”

“I’m at the Four Seasons.”

“Do you maybe want to get drinks later or something?” he asks.

“I’m sure you have after parties to go to with your… model friends.” Your gaze shifts to Vivienne again, and that same sour twist to your lips appears.

Jaehyun wants to reassure you, but- the words just aren’t coming. Besides, what would he even say? We’re fake dating but I’ve been rethinking our entire dynamic since we kissed and now I’m not so sure I want it to be fake, because I’m actually really into you, and all of our bickering in the past has been because I’m jealous of your driven nature and I’ve seen you as competition but now I see that we can do more together than apart?

It feels like a lot of word vomit, and Jaehyun’s not about to projectile all of that at you right now. He doesn’t want to look stupid again, doesn’t want to feel like an idiot. He’s scared of rejection, in a way he’s never been scared of it before.

Instead, dejected, he just nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, so you go have fun, I’m going back to my hotel, and like I said, I’ll see you when I see you.”

Jaehyun watches you leave, and suddenly, the high from the fashion show has depleted. No one has ever had this kind of hold on his emotions before, and Jaehyun knows he’s going to have to do something about it, he just doesn’t know what.

Thirteen:

“Jeeze, Mark, I told you, I’m going to bed-” Your words cut off as you open your hotel door and find Jaehyun, not Mark, standing there.

“Uh… Hi?” Jaehyun smile sheepishly, and you look him up and down.

He’s in a form fitting suit, but it looks somewhat ragged. His shirt is unbuttoned haphazardly, his hair a little fussed, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Well, I went to the afterparty, like you told me to, but… I don’t know, I just felt bad about how we left things.”

You’re shocked at how candid he’s being, and you don’t see a hint of dishonestly in his body language. “Have… have you been drinking?” you question next.

“Just a little,” he admits. “Can I…” Jaehyun looks around the hallway outside. “Can I come in?”

“I should really be going to sleep soon-”

“Yeah, I heard, Mark’s been on your ass,” Jaehyun nods, swallowing, “but uh…” he leans forward, voice lowering, “What’s that pipsqueak going to do about you staying up just a little later? I mean, you can sleep on your flight tomorrow, can’t you?”

Yeah, Jaehyun is drunk. “Did you just call Mark a pipsqueak?” you ask in shock.

“So what if I did?” He grins lazily.

“Jae-”

“y/n.”

You sigh. “Come in, sit down, and let me grab you some water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His smile is much too large for your liking as he enters your hotel room, going to the couch like a good boy.

You can feel his eyes on you as you get him a bottle of water from the fridge, moving to join him. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He unscrews the cap as you sit down, taking a large gulp.

“So… what’s this about?”

He’s still drinking the water, like a child after a marathon, just drinking and drinking with small stops to gasp for air- you can’t help but laugh a little, watching with amusement.

Jaehyun finishes the entire bottle. “So-” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Making you jealous earlier.”

“What?” You’re in shock. “I was not jealous.”

“You were, and it’s okay.” He places his hand on your knee and you look down at it then up at him questioningly. “I was jealous of you and Haechan back in the day, but the difference is, I wasn’t hitting on Vivienne, I was just trying to be nice to her, you know, as male model of the year and everything.”

“Jae-”

“I wasn’t hitting on her,” he says again, expression turning firm. “You’re my girlfriend and I’d never, ever do that to you.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Contractually, you are,” Jaehyun insists. “I can be a good boyfriend to you, if you let me try.”

He’s leaning in now, and you grab a pillow, haphazardly shoving it between the two of you so he can kiss that instead.

“Jae!” You hop off of the couch, heart racing.

“Shit, sorry, you’re just- God, have I ever told you that you glow?” Jaehyun looks up at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him, it’s almost like admiration.

“What are you even saying?”

“You glow. You light up the room. You just- you sparkle, even without disco balls and diamonds.”

You wrap your silky night robe tighter around your body, feeling self conscious. “I don’t glow.”

“You do,” he insists. “Even when we were younger. I think- I think part of me always worried your glow would diminish mine, if that makes sense- but, but after seeing some of the footage from the music video, I see that, now that we’re older, when we do stuff together, when we’re not competing, we can glow together.”

So he’s like… very drunk.

But… haven’t you always heard that drunk words are sober thoughts?

You look down at him, and it feels like you’re seeing him in a new light.

“Jae?” you question.

“Yes?”

“What’s going on?”

“When we kissed that day on set, I felt something.”

“Are you… not used to feeling things?” you ask.

“Not feeling things like that,” Jaehyun corrects. “I mean, butterflies, sparks, you know, corny rom com shit.”

Your stomach flips, heart beginning to beat faster in your chest- so he’d felt the connection too.

“Look, okay, this is going to be embarrassing if you reject me, but, fuck it, I want to get this all off my chest.” Jaehyun takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his silky hair to steady himself. “I like you. I think, a part of me has always liked you, but, I also used to see you as competition. Now that we’re older, now that we’re both successful, I don’t see you that way anymore- and before you think that’s another backhanded compliment, I just mean, you’ve won Grammys. You’re- a fucking star. And I think… maybe I’ve grown to the point where I can accept other people’s successes without seeing it as a diminishment on my own.”

You’re surprised he can speak this well and use big words while clearly feeling the effects of alcohol, and even more than that, you’re surprised by the context of what he’s saying.

Jeong Jaehyun thinks you’re a star. He recognizes your hard work and your success. He’s not just some smug asshole looking down at you, he’s actually seeing you, and maybe… maybe you’re beginning to see him.

“I appreciate the compliment of what you’re saying,” you tell him, picking your own words carefully.

“There’s that PR training,” Jaehyun winks. “You’re cute. Glowy, little, cute, superstar. Maybe that’s what I should call you, my little superstar, the media would eat it up.”

“That’s your PR training,” you laugh.

“We can’t help it,” he smiles up at you.

“Can I say something without you getting upset?”

“I’ll do my best,” Jaehyun promises solemnly.

“I want to start by saying this isn’t a rejection,” you clarify, “I just wish you would have told me all of this while sober, instead of showing up at my apartment near midnight before we both fly out of town in the morning.”

“I can see that,” Jaehyun nods. “I guess, you kind of scare me.”

“I scare you?” you laugh.

“Uh huh.” He swallows thickly. “Like heights.”

He’s so adorably dorky for a famous actor and Prada brand ambassador.

“But- on that cliff that day, when we kissed, and you reassured me, and you let me hold your hips- I don’t know, it was nice. I- thanks, thanks for doing that.”

“I can be quite nurturing if I think someone deserves it,” you tell him. “Which, speaking of, you’re still drunk, and you downed that whole bottle of water, I think I should get you another, and maybe we can move somewhere more comfortable.”

“Like.. the bedroom?” There’s a glint in his eye, and it makes you scoff.

“Get your mind out of the gutter Jae, you can stay on this couch for all I care.”

“I’ll be good,” he promises, crossing his heart haphazardly.

“Come on.” You hold your hand out for him and Jaehyun takes it, allowing you to help him to his feet. You go get another bottle of water and the two of you move to the bedroom. The mattress is substantially more comfortable than the couch, and Jaehyun releases an audible moan as he clammers down onto it.

You get situated, moing under the covers so you feel less exposed.

“I like it when you’re nice like this,” Jaehyun sighs.

“I’d be nicer if you didn’t always tease me.”

“You like it when I tease.”

“I actually hated it when you told me not to slip as I was getting onto the horse during the shoot, and it completely made me mess up and slip,” you point out, still irritated by that ordeal.

“Okay, to be fair, yes, I’m sorry, but also, your dress was silky as fuck, you were going to slip even if I didn’t say anything, and that’s not your fault, it’s Jenni’s for not giving you better clothes to actually ride a horse with.”

He has a point there.

“So…” Jaehyun switches topic, his demeanor getting more anxious, “back on the couch, you said you weren’t rejecting me… can you… can you explain what that meant.”

“It meant I’m not rejecting you.”

“And salt of the earth means salt of the earth,” Jaehyun retorts, rolling his eyes. “Can you give me a Mark style explanation on what you meant.”

“I meant…” you think about it for a second. “I like you too, I think you might be more into me than I’m into you at the moment-”

“Oh yeah?” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest and getting pouty.

“Yeah,” you laugh.

“Fine, okay, maybe,” Jaehyun concedes. “But?”

“But… I’m willing to explore something with you.”

“Yeah?” His expression brightens. “Really?”

“We’d just have to sort out details, you know- we’re on contract for three or so months, so, if we gave it a real go, and things ended before our contract, how would that even work? There are limitations to having a relationship with someone you work with.”

Jaehyun looks down at the water bottle in his hands, clearly thinking it through. “We can… take it slow? I mean, we’d have to, since we both have different schedules and will be in different countries tomorrow.”

“Slow could work,” you agree.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and you almost think he’s going to lean in for a kiss again, and then he asks, “What did happen with you and Haechan? Your first single was about him, right?”

You release a laugh, if this is really a can of worms he wants to open, then you suppose you can let him open it.

You begin to explain to him your history with Haechan, and Jaehyun listens intently. Somehow, he gets the ball rolling on your recent relationship with Lee Jeno, and before you know it, two hours have passed with the two of you just discussing past relationships.

Jaehyun tells you about his own ex’s, about his lack of accountability and emotional maturity. He gives voice to all the trouble spots you’ve identified about him in the past, and clarity on his hopes for being better in the future.

He also noticeably sobers up, which makes you feel a lot better about having this sort of intimate conversation with him.

Soon, you’re both just laying in bed facing each other, talking about everything and anything. “Do you remember that time the catering company on set changed?” Jaehyun asks.

“Oh my god, yeah, when the higher ups wanted more vegan and vegetarian options, and it was just like, raw fruit and veggies with store bought hummus?”

“Jaemin wasn’t used to eating anything that wasn’t carbs or meat and in the middle of a take he had to run to the bathroom?” Jaehyun adds.

“Shat his pants and everything, pissed wardrobe off in a way I’ve never seen,” you giggle. “What ever happened to him?”

“I don’t keep up with many of our old castmates,” Jaehyun admits. “But I think he’s some radio show host or something now, has a segment about embarrassing first dates and stuff.”

“He always loved messy gossip,” you sigh, happy to be reminiscing in this way.

There are only a handful of people who can understand what it was like to be on a kids show in your early teens, only a few others in the world you could possibly have this conversation with.

Despite your differences, you and Jaehyun come from the same place, and it makes it easy to talk to him.

Jaehyun’s staring at you, and he pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Should I let you sleep?” he asks. “It’s two AM.”

You’re hardly tired at this point, and now that Jae’s sober… and in your bed… your own mind has found its way into the gutter, and you’re not quite sure what to do about that.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.

“Always.”

“I haven’t gotten laid in a long time,” you sigh. “And… we’re flying to different places tomorrow, so maybe it’s not the best idea I’ve ever had-”

“It is,” Jaehyun interrupts you. “The best idea you’ve ever had.” You shoot him a look and Jaehyun laughs, back tracking. “I mean, your lyrics and albums are great ideas too- but I just mean… If you’re horny, then you’re horny, and I’m, well, here.”

“I just don’t want you to feel taken advantage of.”

“Even if you’d tried to fuck me when I first walked in here, all drunk and being stupid, it still wouldn’t have been taking advantage of me.”

“I think fucking someone while they’re drunk is one of the most obvious scenarios of taking advantage of someone,” you counter.

“Okay, true, but- you know what I’m saying.” Jaehyun flashes you a knowing look. “If you want me to fuck you, I’ll fuck you.”

“That’s so romantic,” you roll your eyes.

Jaehyun laughs, and then he sits up, looking down at you. “If you want romance, we can go shower together or something. I could… romantically wash your body, and tell you how perfect you are-”

“It’s two am, fuck that. Just kiss me.”

Jaehyun grins, then he leans over you, staring into your eyes. He’s moving slower than you thought he would, and part of you wishes he’d just ravage you like some primal animal- but no, he’s acting like he did in your music video. You can practically see adoration in his eyes, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek in a way that’s almost loving.

“I meant it when I said that you glow,” Jaehyun says softly.

“I know you did,” you breathe, grabbing the back of his neck to draw his lips to yours.

It’s odd how familiar the two of you already are. The kiss isn’t awkward at all, but then again, your first kiss hadn’t been either.

Neither of you are trying to dominate it, you’re moving slowly, reading each other’s body language and cues.

When his tongue gently licks your lip, you open your mouth for him, drawing him closer as the kiss deepens.

Jaehyun shifts in your embrace, and then he’s moving to be between your legs, which spread for him. He’s on top of you now, elbows digging into the pillows while you make out like teenagers in love for the first time.

He just feels so good.

For a long time, you’ve felt like an anxious person. You have a lot of weight on your shoulders, but when you’re kissing Jaehyun, that pressure feels lifted. Your mind goes blank as the two of you make out, your body at the forefront instead of your thoughts.

Jaehyun slowly begins to grind down against you, and the gentle pressure on your clit has you groaning against his lips.

You feel him smirk, and then he begins to kiss down your throat, taking his time to suck gently on your skin.

One of his hands slides up your thigh, teasing the waistband of your sleeping shorts before moving back down again. He’s so warm, and you hips push up for more stimulus.

“Jae-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair.

“Slow, or fast?” he asks, pulling away from your throat to look down at you.

“A bit of both.”

He cocks his head to the side.

“Fast to get my clothes off, slow to explore, then make me cum,” you clarify.

Jaehyun laughs. “Whatever you want, superstar.”

Your skin tingles at the nickname, and your pussy throbs as Jaehyun begins to remove his clothes. Each button feels like an eternity to get undone, but when he slips the fabric off, you find yourself practically drooling.

He has such a perfect body, not too lean, not too muscled, just perfect.

Then, Jaehyun begins to take off your robe and you sit up to help him. Soon, your shirt is being tugged over your head, and your nipples immediately pebble at the cool air of your hotel room.

You lay back down, staring up at him while Jaehyun takes in your body.

“Glowing,” he whispers, cupping your breast and rubbing his thumb across your nipple.

You whimper at the sensation, and his eyes move up to your face. He’s grinning at you. “Sensitive?” he asks, gently pinching the bud.

You groan, shifting against the bed. “Yeah.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Jaehyun promises, leaning down to kiss you again.

He begins to descend to your throat again, but this time, he goes even farther down, making it to your chest. The first flick of his tongue against your nipple has you whining, and you thread your fingers through his hair again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

He continues to suck on your breasts, paying attention to both nipples. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, and you’re torn between loving the feeling of this and wanting something more.

It’s as if he reads you, because he pulls away from your chest, hooking his fingers in your shorts. You both adjust to allow him to get you fully naked, and then he lays down between your legs. He presses kisses along the sensitive flesh of your thighs, looking up at you.

There’d been a time in your life when you hadn’t loved eye contact during pussy eating, but there’s something so erotic about the way Jaehyun’s watching you as he brings his mouth to your core.

He kisses your clit gently, and you watch as his eyes close, his tongue swiping up your folds to taste the wet that has accumulated there.

He groans, delving deeper with his tongue, his large hands grabbing your thighs as an anchor as he begins to devour you.

Has anyone ever eaten you out like this? Jeno wasn’t much of a giver unfortunately, and it feels like forever since you’ve had someone doing to you what Jaehyun is currently doing.

Your entire body feels alive, with each flick and suck- You’re clutching at the blankets now, moaning desperately as he works you up faster than any man before him ever has.

You guess you hadn’t put a time limit on making you cum. You’d told him fast to undress, which he did, slow to explore, which he also did- and now, it seems he’s intent on making you cum on his tongue, which is something you have no issues with.

“Jae-” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

He looks up at you and you begin to move your hips, riding his face. He stays still, letting you use him, and you can tell from the groan he releases that he kind of likes you taking control in this way.

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Please make me cum.”

Jaehyun’s fingers dig into your thighs, and then he’s back at it. He takes lead again, sucking your clit into his mouth while you cry out and grab the sheets with your free hand.

Your eyes close, your back arching a little as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

It’s a steady build of pleasure, and then, you’re tipping over. You release a strangled gasp as ecstasy courses through you like electric shocks from the tip of your head down to your toes and fingers.

You can feel your pussy contracting with pleasure, a steady rhythm that prolongs the sensation. Jaehyun continues to suck on your clit, helping you through everything until you’re a gasping mess.

He relents, and you can hear him sit up. Your eyes are still closed, one hand now haphazardly thrown across your eyes as you try to catch your breath.

The sound of Jaehyun’s pants hitting the floor draws your attention, and you look up to find Jaehyun standing there in all his glory.

“Still want to do this?” he asks.

“Get over here,” you command, opening your arms for him.

Jaehyun flashes you a grin, then he rejoins you on the bed.

Your lips are meeting a moment later. It’s not a gentle slow exploration anymore, but a hungry, lust fuelled haze. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it turns you even more. You wrap your legs around his hips, tugging him closer.

His cock rubs between your pussy lips and you whimper, reaching between yourselves to line him up- Jaehyun takes your hand, moving it aside. Then, two fingers enter your soaked core and you groan against his lips.

“Gotta prep you,” Jaehyun muses. “You said you haven’t been fucked in a while.”

“Don’t tease though,” you warn gently, looking up at him.

“Never.” He kisses you again, drowning out the anxious thoughts as he finger fucks you, spreading his fingers and working you open in preparation for his cock.

Jaehyun begins to curl his digits, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you that has you groaning. You break the kiss to burrow your face against his throat, panting as he draws more and more pleasure out of your already exhausted body.

You feel something drip on your upper thigh, and you look down to see the precum leaking out of Jaehyun’s tip. “Sorry,” he groans, “I’m just, super turned on right now.”

“Then fuck me,” you insist, biting at his earlobe. “I’m prepped now.”

“You sure?”

“We’re both dripping, Jae, just fuck me.”

“You got it, superstar.” Jaehyun grins as he kisses you. He finger fucks you a little more and then he pulls his digits out of your wet core. You watch him sit up, licking his fingers clean, then he grabs the base of his cock.

He presses the tip into you, looking up to watch your reaction. When you release a moan, Jaehyun grins. He steadies over you again, his biceps bulging as his lips meet your own. He pushes deeper inside of you, taking it slow until his hips are flush against yours.

You both groan at the feeling.

“See?” you gasp. “Told you I could take you.”

“Taking me so well,” Jaehyun agrees, his breath hot against your throat as he begins to pepper your skin with kisses.

Jaehyun’s hips start to move, and he fucks you gently at first, allowing your inner walls to get used to the size of him. His kisses distract you as he opens you up, his pace increasing.

You release a loud moan when the tip of his cock hits a deep spot inside of you, and you can feel Jaehyun grin against your throat. “Right there?” he asks, doing the motion again. “Is that the place?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding. “Right there.”

Jaehyun brings his lips to your own, and he kisses you deeply as he continues to abuse that special spot. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucks you. God, you’re so lost in him, in the best possible way.

You never miss out on beauty sleep, but Jaehyun is more than worth it.

“Superstar?”

“Yeah?” you ask, half delirious.

“Would it be bad if I asked you to ride me?”

“Huh?”

“I just- I could still fuck up into you, but I don’t know, I kind of want to see you on top.”

“Really?” you look up at him in shock. “You strike me as a man who likes to have control.”

“Says the woman who likes to have control,” he counters with a grin. “Or… do you just want to be my pillow princess?”

You consider it for a moment. “You know what, yeah, let me get on top, I want to watch you when you cum.”

Jaehyun physically shivers from your words, and you watch his pupils dilate with interest. “Fuck,” he groans. “Yeah, get on top.”

It’s a quick adjustment, with Jaehyun dragging you onto his lap. You sit down on his cock and both of you groan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you like this, and you press your hands to his chest, steadying yourself for a moment.

Then, you begin to bounce.

Jaehyun throws his head back against the pillows, moaning deeply.

Fuck, he’s so hot like this.

There’s something so erotic about being on top, on knowing that you’re going to be riding him when he cums.

Your whole relationship has been about competing for power, and now, in the midst of one of the most vulnerable exchanges of power, Jaehyun had stopped from his position on top to give you the opportunity to be in control.

You like that. You like it a lot.

It shows he hadn’t been lying when he’d talked about the two of you glowing together, and it gives you a newfound kind of hope for whatever relationship is budding between the two of you.

You ride him harder at the thought, and his hands find your hips, helping you bounce.

“Fuck, fuck-” Jaehyun groans, his fingers digging into your skin. “Feels so good.”

In all honesty, the first position had felt better for you, when he was doing all the work, but you’d never admit that to him, especially not while deep in the throes of passion like this. He’d already made you cum, and now, you want to return the favour.

You ignore the burning in your thighs, fucking Jaehyun in a way you’ve never fucked a man before. You can feel the power of it bubbling inside of you, and you focus on his expression, on the pleasure that’s written all over him.

“Jae,” you groan, “want you to cum for me.”

“Don’t-” he swallows thickly. “Don’t you want me to hold out a little longer?”

“It’s our first time, we have flights tomorrow,” you retort. “Just let go, I wanna feel it.”

“You and your scheduling,” Jaehyun laughs, but it quickly turns into a groan, his eyes closing again. “Fuck, okay, but you have to let me make it up to you sometime.”

“Next time we see each other we can spend hours fucking,” you tell him.

“Promise?”

“I promise, now be good and cum for me, yeah?”

Jaehyun shivers again, and there’s a slight look of confusion on his face. You get the sense that he’s not used to being talked down to like this- but it’s clear it turns him on in a new, foreign sort of way.

“Okay, yeah.” Jaehyun anchors himself against the bed, and then he begins fucking up into you, his muscles rippling under his perfect skin. “Shit, fuck-”

You watch the pleasure build in him, until he reaches his peak. The tension clearly snaps, and he lets out a deep groan that goes straight to your core.

You continue to ride him, intent on helping him through it-

Jaehyun grabs you and pulls you down to his chest, holding you still as he shoots his load deep in your pussy. He’s groaning in your ear, hips twitching-

God, you love the way you’re pinned like this, the way he’s cumming so hard he needed you to just stop.

You allow him to finish, and his grip slowly lets up on you. He’s no longer using his strength to keep you still, he’s just holding you, the two of you panting desperately.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“That day, behind my trailer, the first time I held you,” Jaehyun clears his throat, “could you feel my heart racing the way it is now?”

“I was more focused on my own heart,” you admit.

“Yeah?”

“It was going pretty fast.”

Jaehyun releases a laugh, holding you tighter. “Guess we were both in for it, huh?”

“Guess so.”

Jaehyun holds you a little while longer, and then he sighs. “I should let you get your beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, but you can stay over if you want.”

“Really?”

“Could you imagine how much people would react if the paparazzi got a picture of you leaving my hotel tomorrow morning?”

Another chuckle escapes him. “You and your PR training.”

“You love it,” you insist.

Jaehyun releases a sigh, burying his face closer to your throat. “I do love it.”

You’re from the same world, the same industry, and no one has ever understood you or your job the way Jaehyun does.

Wrapped in his arms, the two of you set to fly to different countries in just a couple of hours, something about him just feels so right.

You’ve spent your whole life trying to be someone else for other people, for your management team, for your fans- but with Jaehyun, maybe you can just be exactly who you are, professional obligations and all.

He’d said it himself, he’d seen your glow from the moment you met, even as awkward kids on a tv show trying to make names for yourself. He’d seen your sparkle before you’d even seen it in yourself, and now, maybe he’s right. Maybe you can learn to glow together.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I kind of loved working on this au, I know it's not classical 'he's an actual cowboy' but I really loved working with Jae as this character

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. You’ve been in love before, but it was always different. You were always with men who saw you as a prize. They put you on a pedestal, and it was often one sided with genuine empathy. You were a support in their lives, as opposed to a form of mutual understanding.But Jaehyun understands you, so you can confidently say he’s the sweetest love you’ve had.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, worship kink, substantial foreplay/prep, fingering, squirting, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, dirty talk, praise, man handling, anal (thumb in the butt), etc… I petnames. (hers) superstar.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 180

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

bonus

“Wow,” you breathe, staring out at the crowd as you clutch the Grammy in your hand. “I can honestly say, I never expected this award. To win Best Music Video, I just- I’m in shock. I want to thank my parents, my label, my team of wonderful people, production, styling, Hwasa, who directed the video, and Mark, my manager. I want to thank my fans especially, I wouldn’t be anywhere without you. And, I also want to thank my amazing scene partner, Jaehyun. I know a lot of people were confused about Jae being the Model Cowboy, but he showed up to set, and something just clicked. We made magic with this one, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Thanks again, wow, thanks.”

You’re practically shaking as you make your way off the stage to go rejoin your group of people in the audience. Hwasa and Mark both give you a hug, and Johnny pats you on the back. When you reach Jaehyun, he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as he presses kisses along your face.

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@candidupped - @cheolussy - @aaniag - @imprettyweird

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thanks to those who interacted with the teaser! 37

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#jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jeong jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #jaehyun nct #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader

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604to647 · 2 months ago

Text

Crawling Back to You (Dieter’s Version)

3.7K / Dieter Bravo x fem!reader

Summary: A moment of weakness could lead to lifetime of regret unless Dieter can set things right with you.

Warnings: Angst, pining. Mention of drug use. Reader has a purposefully vague production/behind the scenes job because I don't know anything about movie production. Eventual HEA. One Friends reference - see if you can find it 😉

A/N: This was written for @happypedrohours’ Bouquets of Pedro Challenge. My Valentine’s prompt for Dieter was PDA. I’ve never written for Dieter before! I know he’s a chaos gremlin (affectionate), but I really like fics I read of him where he just wants to be loved? So, that's the Dieter that I wrote - I hope it's okay 🥹 (Sorry if he’s too OOC 😭) Musical inspiration is Hozier's cover of Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know."

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Many thanks to @morallyinept for your character and dialogue database to help me try and get into a Bravo state of mind 😘

He considers doing something big and splashy, of course. And public - very, very public. Afterall, not being P with his DAs had been what tore the two of you apart.

Well, part of it, anyways.

Double-paged feature in Variety. Highway billboards with matching ads on the side of buses. Live poetry reading on the big screens in Time Square.

But all of that would be very old Dieter Bravo of him and he was no longer that man - in large part because of you, for you.

Dieter had met you many, many moons ago. Always a friendly face on whatever set or industry event it was where you might cross paths, the two of you had gone from familiar acquaintances, to friends, to someone the other actively sought out for good company or shelter when the bright lights got too hot, the clamouring crowds too loud.

When you first met, Dieter thought you must be an actress - you were too beautiful, too captivating not to be onscreen. But while you did have a few extra credits to your name, he soon learned that your ambition lay behind the camera. He remembers the first time he heard your melodic voice ring out across set - like a drunken sailor to a siren’s call, he followed it without question in a semi lucid state (Hey! What’s a little marijuana between a movie star and the teamsters?). But upon the lifting of his fog, Dieter found not his destruction, but salvation: a sympathetic ally on set, someone with whom he could be a team – a calm in the chaotic storm that was most movie productions,

You worked hard at learning and mastering your trade, and your keen eye and intuitive sense for movie making sang your merits louder than that hypnotic voice of yours that first drew Dieter (and others) to you; that you were easy to get along with and impossible to say no to was no small feat in this business – especially for a woman. Dieter watched as you dogged forward, paying your dues and solidifying your reputation and resume – whenever he hears your name being bantered about behind the doors of Hollywood’s most coveted meetings, he feels only excessive pride. He would tell you himself if you were speaking to him.

Dieter still remembers the night when the two of you crossed that unspoken line for the first time; even now he’s not sure what he would have done if Cupid hadn’t been on his side. There had been some studio gala, nothing special – or so he thought. Slipping away from the endless shmoozing and sycophantic hoards that tend to overrun these gatherings, Dieter escaped through the catering entrance in search of some obliging venue service staff (Hollywood hot tip: the wait staff always have the best drugs!). Instead, he had found you - sitting on a table pushed to the side of the corridor, fancy ballgown fanned out, eating popsicles, legs swinging without a care in the world.

“Dieter!” your cheer was infectious, your smile mischievous and joyful, “I didn’t care for any of those tiny finger desserts they had going out on the trays so I asked the wait staff what they kept in the back for dessert and they gave me a whole box!” His search for extracurriculars forgotten, Dieter happily joined you, choosing instead to get drunk on your pretty face, happy chatter, and the completely innocent yet salacious way your mouth worked that frozen treat.

About three popsicles in (each) the icy desserts began melting – you managed to save yourself and finish yours just in time, but Dieter’s blue-raspberry concoction was rapidly disintegrating and about to make a guaranteed mess of his dress pants when your hands darted out, catching the slush midair.

Dieter cackled, marveling at your wide-eyed expression and hands, now wet, sticky and blue, “What did you do that for?”

“I don’t know," you crowed, eyes crinkling, still holding your cupped hands out in front of you, "I just didn’t want them to make some kind of 'blue balls' joke about you and your stained crotch in the tabloids tomorrow!”

He clasped his clean hand in yours, adhering himself to you in more ways than one - the two of you giggling and giddy as you re-entered the ballroom. After finding a free table, some clean napkins and a pitcher of water, you sat as Dieter lovingly washed and cleaned your hands so that they wouldn’t be stained with Blue Dye #1. He was on his knees, drying and holding your small delicate hands in his much rougher, clumsier ones, when he happened to look up to see you gazing adoringly down at him, eyes grateful and looking at him like he was hanging the moon for you.

Dieter lifted up and unable to help himself, connected his lips to yours – hoping against hope that he wasn’t ruining one of the few precious, genuine connections in his life. His relief was soon overtaken by desire when you kissed him back – the two of you somehow managing to make your way back to the service hallways, lips crashing together over and over like unstoppable waves of an inevitable ocean. The kisses were sensual and messy, pure and happy – it made Dieter feel like a teenager again.

“Is this weird?” he whispered at one point - vulnerable, no bravado.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” you breathed, though your voice was soft, your touch reassuring, “but don’t stop.” So, he didn’t. He kissed your lips swollen, pressing you up against the wall and succumbing to the intoxication of your pretty noises and tender affection.

Nothing else happened that night, and in fact, you had run away! After getting a text that your friend was currently giving birth, you rushed off to the hospital like Cinderella, ballgown skirts gathered in your careful hands while darting away in the night. Dieter, dazed and higher than he’s even felt, caught the kiss you blew him, and while pressing it to his slackened, blissed out face, vowed to become your Prince Charming.

He found you on set the following Monday and for the first time in a long time, Dieter Bravo, famously chill Cool Dude™ had felt shy, nervous. He needn’t have been – you responded to his earnestness with sweet generosity, only ever honest and non-pretentious; it was clear that for the both of you, there was no going back to just friends.

The rest as they say, was history.

Except being with you felt completely new to Dieter – for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he looked forward to waking up to the start of each day, genuinely excited for its possibilities, and even more to coming home every night, grateful for the newfound comfort of life’s simple pleasures.

Grateful, yes. If there was one thing Dieter wishes he could tell you it’s how grateful he is for you. While you were blazing your own path to success, you had also helped him redefine his - believing in and supporting the seemingly unflappable Dieter Bravo when he admitted to wanting more. Hollywood’s unbothered bro, Tinseltown’s perpetually aflame trainwreck darling was capable of and itching for growth, who knew? You did.

You read scripts with him and talked through his needs and ambitions; finally having a sounding board with no self-serving stake in the financial success of his career choices, Dieter began choosing increasingly more varied and interesting projects with your encouragement and support. He’s happier now, more fulfilled, challenged, engaged.

And he got sober (Well, he still drinks, but that doesn’t really count, right? It’s Hollywood). Detox had been a fucking nightmare but Dieter likes the voices in his head now. They’re gentler with him, more forgiving, thoughtful. They sound like you.

Dieter loved you so much, he wanted to climb to the top of the Hollywood sign and shout it all the way across the Pacific; he thought a love such as yours was limitless.

His publicists discouraged it. The world loved the Dieter they knew: eccentric, sex-crazed, tabloid staple, a spectacle. They weren’t interested in another middle-aged actor trying too hard to be taken seriously, who had seemingly left his wild days behind for a boring, stable relationship with a non-celebrity. The public wanted ✨salaciousness✨glitz✨scandal✨.

You had gone along with keeping your relationship hidden, valuing your privacy and preferring to keep the sacredness of your love for one another only. “I love you, Dieter,” you vowed, “I don’t need everyone to know it, but I don’t ever want to feel like your dirty little secret, okay?”

He promised you without really understanding what that meant.

Your relationship blossomed behind closed doors. Both of you walked red carpets alone, careful not to get papped together, and on sets, remained cordial and professional until you got behind Dieter’s closed trailer doors where his affection for you knew no bounds, even when contained. You would tell each other that your love wasn’t a secret, it was private, protected and kept safe from the prying and critical eyes of the public.

When his PR team arranged a fake relationship with the young and upcoming nepo baby starlet with whom he acted opposite in his latest movie as a means to promote the film, Dieter had reservations. But he hadn’t said no.

And after several long and serious conversations with his management about his fading relevancy and the exposure that the arrangement would net him, the starlet, the film, Dieter eventually relented and agreed to go along with it. It seems that fame was the one drug that he hadn’t quite kicked.

Dieter will never forget the look on your face when he brought up the PR campaign – the way your eyes crinkled in disappointment and the curve of your pretty lips pulling down your entire face haunts him every night.

“What happens to your real girlfriend when you’re out with your fake girlfriend, Dieter?”

He couldn’t even bring himself to ask you to wait, or stay by his side, but hidden. It was beneath you, insulting. And to ask was to break his promise.

Turns out he didn’t even need to ask for you to feel the full weight of his betrayal.

The last words he ever spoke to you had been uttered pathetically to the front door you shut in his face, “Baby, maybe I can fix it. Let me try.” Their only registered response was the sound of your sobs getting softer and softer as you walked away, shutting the doors in the house he could no longer call home.

He hadn’t been able to fix it. By design, Hollywood’s PR machine is a force, the joint efforts of Dieter and the starlet’s teams a runaway train. Their “relationship” had been Page Six news before Dieter even had the chance to call his publicist to say that he couldn’t go through with it. The public ate it all up just as predicted:

Dieter Bravo, Hollywood Chaos Prince back at it again, charming and capturing the heart of Tinseltown’s newest princess.

His mind swims of you. During every press tour interview he does with his pretend girlfriend, Dieter cringes at the fake touches and gestures of affection choreographed for the cameras; all the scripted flirting and empty terms of endearment taste like acid on his tongue (and not the good kind either). But none of this compares to the shame he feels at having hurt you, the owner of his heart, and that he likely continues to do so with every orchestrated date night photo-op for TMZ, every “happy couple” glambot he poses for on the red carpet.

Dieter finally sees you again six months into his fake relationship.

At the MTV Movie Awards, he’s waiting for the starlet to finish her solo shots, rubbing his temple at the too bright lights, the garish and loud décor, the music that doesn’t even sound like music, when he sees you stroll in on the arm of a man he doesn’t recognize. But Dieter couldn’t care less who the man is - it’s you he can’t look away from; you’re laughing, radiant, soft. Unchanged. Ethereal.

Dieter thinks he might vomit. He thinks he might need to do a line. He can’t let you see him.

Without excusing himself, Dieter leaves the red carpet and locks himself in a bathroom, trying to push down his bubbling panic attack. He knows his “girlfriend” is probably beside herself, and that his unexplained absence is likely giving rise to new rumours and speculation that he’s on some kind of drug-fuelled spiral, but he can’t bring himself to come out.

Someone slips a KitKat under the door of the bathroom.

Dieter knows it’s you; only you would be so subtle, so gentle, so reassuring with one simple gesture. Only you know him and what brings him the most comfort. He picks up the chocolate bar and stares at it for a while before biting into it, thinking about how he got himself into this mess.

A moment weakness. A lifetime of regret.

Not if Dieter could help it.

He “breaks up” with the starlet the following week; it would have been handled even sooner if he didn’t have to fight and threaten to fire his entire team, eventually dragging in Legal to help him break the marketing contract he had unknowingly signed in blood.

Immediately Dieter starts planning how he will make things up to you, beg for another chance – apologize; drafting and discarding every over-the-top gesture that pops into his buzzing mind, each more theatrical and outlandish than the last.

He finally settles on a letter – one that Dieter can’t stop writing after he starts and ends up being eighteen pages (front and back). It begins with an apology – for having hurt you so callously, for breaking his promise to you, and for, even if only a second, ever making you feel like you weren’t important or enough. Especially when it was his own bruised ego that had needed the stroking – this entire disaster a result of his own weakness, born from a dark place inside where he had been made small by an industry that thrived on the insecurities of its so-called stars, and Dieter’s fear of feeling even smaller. You made him feel so good while the two of you had been together, he naively thought that your light had eradicated all such voids and pits within him – but it was unfair to heap the responsibility of his growth and self improvement onto you. And though he knows that he still has work to do, he credits your influence and compassion for the progress he’s made so far. Around page six of the letter Dieter’s Sorrys transition into Thank Yous.

Dieter thanks you for every way you’ve made him a better man, made him want to be a better man. He thanks you for all the times your unparalleled support, kindness, and generosity have gotten him through the day on set, or through his self doubts at night. Words of gratitude overflow from his pen, pouring out nearly faster than he can write – you, you, you. He’s thankful for you.

And he misses you. And not just all the ways you meshed your gentle life with the squishy bits of his, but just you. Your sweet laugh. The crinkle of your nose and the watering of your eyes at his farts sarcastic jokes. And your mouth. Great Paul Newman, he’s always been obsessed with your mouth – and not just what he knows it can do and how it tastes, but everything that comes out of it. Dieter could listen to you talk about anything for hours – he might not know a single thing about what you’re talking about, but he understands eloquence, passion, and the artistry of words when he hears it. Having spent most of his adult life around industry blowhards, Dieter knows that intelligence without pretension is a rarity - fresh air that he longs to breathe in again.

On page twelve, Dieter tells you he loves you - loves you for everything you are and what you stand for. He loves how you’ve remained gentle, even though the business of show makes it its mission to sharpen everyone and everything it swallows. He loves that your default is always thoughtfulness and compassion, that you embody a quiet type of beauty that doesn’t need to be paraded about or loudly lauded in order to shine. How do you make even the mundane so fascinating? It must be that confident grace of yours. Dieter writes an entire two pages on how he just wants to watch you wash dishes again – he tries to describe the meditative calm that comes just from seeing the soapy water bow to your whim, as if it knows the power and majesty of its bender; understanding as he does now the magnanimity it takes to ensure that no small movement is wasted, to make every action purposeful. He’s enraptured by you. Admires you. Worships you. So, so in love with you.

He reads the letter over a hundred times before tying the folded pages together with a bright red bow. Using his Bravo charm, Dieter sneaks onto the set of your latest movie and leaves it in your trailer on top of a jewelry box that holds an ostentatiously luxurious diamond necklace he bought you before everything had gone to hell. He had kept it all this time, unable to bring himself to return it, never even considering giving it to anyone but you.

Three weeks pass and Dieter hears nothing back.

He had tried to prepare himself for this possibility – that perhaps you might never forgive him, want nothing more to do with him, but still, it’s with a heavier than expected heart that he gets ready for his movie premiere, the very same film he’d promoted with his fake relationship. Dieter didn’t expect any drama at the event – he and the starlet spoke last week and agreed that arriving separately but acting like friends was the best way to quell the outrageous reasons for the “breakup” speculated in the gossip rags. In truth, even though they had grown to become actual friends during the meshugana of the last few months, Dieter can’t help but associate this entire project with his own regret and shame - he can’t wait for this evening to be over.

He goes through the motions of the red carpet. Greeting his co-stars with boisterous cheers and hard gripping handshakes. Hitting his marks and smiling almost manically for the cameras. Waving to the fans and signing every piece of paper shoved towards him (this part he really did not mind; you always said that his fans were the best and they are). Doing his time in the interview pit. When he’s near the end of the gauntlet, with only the Entertainment Tonight interview to get through before he can (blessedly) retreat to his seat in the theatre, a vivid glimmer of brilliance catches Dieter’s eye. Unlike the near blinding flash of a photographer’s camera, this sparkle beckons him, brightly winking – he almost puts up a hand to shield his eyes before he realizes what it is.

It's you.

You’re at his premiere. Gorgeous, breathtaking, elegant – you’re walking down the arrivals promenade… and you’re wearing the diamond necklace Dieter left with your letter. Inadvertently tuning out the ET interviewer, he stares, awestruck, mouth agape – hopeful. The interviewer can’t help but follow Dieter’s gaze and asks him who you are.

“An angel,” he answers honestly.

At that same moment, you finally spot him and your face breaks into a big smile, the luminosity of which nearly drops Dieter to his knees. Instead, he breaks out into a sprint, running towards you.

When you see what he’s doing, you pick up your skirts and start moving towards him as well. Dieter dodges and weaves between the bodies on the red carpet, trying not to slam into any of the people that stand between him and his everything, only vaguely aware of the Entertainment Tonight interviewer and her cameraman hot on his heels.

Suddenly, the crowd seems to part and there’s a clearing right where the two of you finally meet, stopping only inches from one another. Dieter’s panting (fuck, he’s out of shape!) but grinning like a fool when you drop the fabric of your dress to bring your hands come up to cup his face, thumbs running lovingly over his unkempt scruff – a familiar gesture that feels better than any high he’s ever experienced. Your face is flushed bright and content, home.

“You got my letter.”

“I did.”

“You’re wearing the necklace.”

“I am.” Your eyes twinkle, complimenting the serenity and invitation of your countenance - both saying everything without even a word. It gives Dieter the boost of confidence he needs.

“May I kiss you?”

“Even though we’re in public?” You’re being cheeky on purpose.

But for once Dieter won’t play - there is nothing except sincerity in his response, “From now on, only ever in public. No more hiding.”

An orchestral movie score heard only by the two of you swells as you both move to close the remaining distance between your bodies, crushing your mouths together. The kiss is passionate, deep and heated – leaving no doubt of your feelings for one another; not even the gawking onlookers can deny what you mean to each other. Camera bulbs pop and bright lights flash all around as your lips settle and mold in a tender slow dance, loathed to be parted ever again. Your hands card through Dieter’s soft curls, delicate fingers cradling his head soothingly, warm; his hands spread wide to cover your back, covetous and protective.

“No more hiding,” you whisper, face lit with joy at the adoration and promise reflected in Dieter’s mirrored expression.

He nods and tightens his arm around your waist, love and resolution coursing through his veins. Sharing one last private look, the two of you turn in unison, a team, towards the awestruck Entertainment Tonight interviewer whose microphone is practically shaking with excitement. Dieter beams his megawatt Bravo smile at her, “Is this what the kids call a hard launch?”

🎶Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know" lyrics (Hozier's version):

Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through Crawlin' back to you 🎶

#Dieter Bravo #happy pedro hours #bouquetsofpedrochallenge #Dieter Bravo fic #happypedrohours #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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girlkisser13 · 3 months ago

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being married to satoru gojo would include

• gojo loves to tease you, constantly pushing your buttons just to see you flustered. expect cheeky comments, surprise kisses, and dramatic declarations of love in the middle of crowded places.

• if you’re shy about pda, too bad. gojo lives for dramatic public displays of affection.

• if he sees you from across the street, he sprints toward you, yelling: "MY LOVE, I HAVE FOUND YOU AT LAST!"

• he randomly dips you in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss you like you’re in a rom-com.

• gojo LIVES to be near you. he’ll drape himself over you like a human-sized blanket, rest his head on your lap whenever you’re sitting, or outright pick you up and carry you if he’s feeling extra dramatic (which is always).

• he showers you with compliments, and while some are genuine, most are ridiculous:

"wow, how does it feel to be married to the most handsome, most powerful, most incredible man alive?”

"your beauty is so radiant, i might need my blindfold back just to avoid going blind."

• he has zero concept of personal space and will kiss you at the most unexpected moments— mid-conversation, while you’re eating, or even while you’re scolding him.

• gojo is the CLINGIEST person alive.

• he follows you around the house like a puppy. cooking? he’s hovering behind you, stealing bites of food. working? he’s lying on the couch dramatically sighing about how neglected he feels.

"you know, marriage means you have to give me attention 24/7, right?"

• he refuses to call you by your actual name unless he’s being serious. instead, he cycles through completely ridiculous pet names.

• gojo is not a morning person unless it involves annoying you. if you wake up before him, he groans and pulls you back into bed. if he wakes up first, he does everything in his power to wake you up.

• blasting music at full volume.

• hovering over you whispering "wake up, my love—" in the creepiest voice imaginable.

• picking you up with infinity still on so you can’t escape his hugs.

• if you have sweets, they are his now. you once tried to hide snacks from him, but he teleported them out of your hands and smirked while eating them.

• this man is constantly stealing bites of your food, no matter how many times you scold him.

"what’s yours is mine, babe! it’s in fine print of our marriage license."

• sometimes he vanishes for an entire day and then comes back with the most ridiculous gifts.

• one time, he brought home a glow-in-the-dark matching couple’s outfit.

• another time, he returned with a 20 feet stuffed animal version of himself. you refuse to keep it in the house.

• movie nights are a nightmare– gojo never lets you watch in peace.

• he talks through the entire thing.

• he predicts the ending within five minutes.

• he insists on reenacting fight scenes mid-movie.

• and worst of all? he won’t stop quoting the movie afterward.

• his number one priority is your safety– he plays it cool, but he worries about you constantly. even if you’re not a sorcerer, he subtly keeps infinity up around you when he’s not there. if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they disappear.

• there are times when he comes home late from missions, and instead of waking you, he just holds you close, quietly breathing in your presence.

• he has no shame in embarrassing you publicly.

• if he’s picking you up from work, expect him to arrive in the flashiest way possible. he once teleported into your office just to kiss you in front of your coworkers.

• he likes to randomly challenge you to stupid competitions.

"let’s see who can eat more candy without getting sick."

"first one to fall asleep loses!" (he never loses.)

"let’s race— but i get to teleport."

• he pranks you CONSTANTLY.

• he once hid in a closet for twenty minutes just to jump out and scare you.

• another time, he changed your phone alarm to his voice saying "GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIFUL—" over and over again.

• some of the best moments with gojo are when it’s late at night, and he’s just talking to you softly— about his childhood, his fears, and his dreams.

• if you ever have trouble sleeping, he hums softly while rubbing your back. it’s one of the rare moments where he’s completely calm.

• house chores? he pretends he doesn’t know how to do them. "oh no, my infinity won’t let me touch the dishes, guess you’ll have to do it—.” you roll your eyes and make him do them anyway.

• loves using his teleportation just to annoy you. forgot something at home? he’ll bring it— but only after making you beg (or bribing him with sweets).

• you once woke up to find him floating above the bed, just staring at you. "i was admiring my beautiful spouse—" he got a pillow to the face.

• if you ever get hurt, he loses it. he jokes a lot, but the moment you’re in danger, the world will burn.

• he constantly steals your sunglasses, claiming they look better on him.

• will not hesitate to use his powers to do the most ridiculous things— like floating the remote into his hand instead of getting up.

• if you’re cold, he’ll wrap himself around you dramatically. "don’t worry, i’ll sacrifice my body heat for you, my love."

• with you, he can drop the “satoru gojo, strongest sorcerer” mask and just be satoru. on nights when the weight of his responsibilities gets to him, he just rests his forehead against yours, whispering: "you’re the only thing keeping me sane." <33

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kleine-joost · 8 months ago

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Whine & Dine 18+ MDNI

Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

a/n: this too me way too long to write!! i tried to make it smutty but i just can't help writing cute fluff :)

WARNINGS: joost being a MUNCH, reader is AFAB, uuuhhh smoking?, there's a 'good girl' in there too

You’d always loved the process of getting ready for a first date. Choosing the perfect outfit, making sure your hair looked effortless, yet tamed, and the shot of liquid courage right before you stepped out the door, oftentimes it was more enjoyable than the actual dates you went on.

Either the guy couldn’t hold a conversation to save his life, or he forgot to mention one tiny detail like he was still living with his ex, or he’d make a comment about how you weren’t afraid to eat in front of a man. Your love life was a long string of red flags and ghostings. But you always persevered.

Tonight felt like a good night for you; you had a pep in your step and you were feeling confident. The guy seemed nice enough in the short conversations you’d had on the dating app where you matched. He was one of those sensitive, creative types, and he looked just gorgeous in his photos.

The restaurant you were meeting at was only a short walk from your apartment, so you made it there with plenty of time to spare.

You’d never been, but you must’ve walked past it a hundred times. The place always gave off vibes that were just a bit too cool for you, with its ornate lettered sign and rooftop bar open every weekend in the summer that blasted lo-fi beats that echoed through the streets.

Walking in, you were shocked at how cold it was inside. You felt goosebumps prick up all over and a shiver went down your spine. The room was quite loud, the sound of knives and forks clattering on plates and lively chatter disoriented you for a second–or maybe that was the tequila shot finally kicking in.

You saw the golden hair at the bar just by the entrance. A flash of excitement jumped through you as you approached.

“Joost?” You asked tentatively, partly to not frighten him and partly to soften the blow if you’d picked out the wrong person at the bar.

He turned around and you got a good look at his face in the glinted orange light of the restaurant, highlighted with blue neon that shone over the bar. He looked…different in three dimensions. Seeing him properly had you smile, as he smiled back at and stood to give you a polite, short hug.

“You’re early!” He laughed. Oh, his laugh.

You chuckled. “You can’t talk!”

“I like to be prepared!” He feigned offence.

You let out a giggle, the kind of giggle normally only saved for when young girls talk to their schoolyard crush–you weren’t quite sure how you conjured it.

You were relieved when the conversation flowed so easily over dinner. You talked about friends and films and your teenage years. You’d learnt Joost was a musician–he was actually doing quite well for himself on that front–and though his songs didn’t really seem like your scene, you made a mental note to listen to a couple at least, he was so passionate when he was talking about his music influences growing up, it sparked inspiration for you to branch out.

You both finished your meals and they’d been taken away by a very sleep-deprived looking busboy…but you just didn’t want the night to end. And you felt like you’d gotten to know Joost well, but you didn’t know him that well. What would he think about you if you wanted to keep the night going?

You dwelled on the thought as you paid–well he paid, much to your protests– and both made your way onto the street outside. The sun had gone down now and streetlamps let off a soft aura every ten feet down the road.

Joost immediately took a cigarette packet out of the pocket of his jeans and placed one between his lips–lips that you had stared at far too much during the evening–before holding out the packet to you with raised eyebrows, silently asking if you wanted one. You grabbed the box and took one out, along with the bright green, plastic lighter in the packet as well. You tried to light it a couple times, but the spark on the lighter wouldn’t catch. Joost saw you struggling.

“Sorry, it’s a bit old, you have to shake it a bit before you light it,” he said with the unlit cigarette still between his lips and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

You shook it a few times and tried it again…and nothing.

“Here…” He took a step towards you and grabbed the lighter, shaking it a few times and lighting it immediately. He held the flame to the end of your cigarette. “I’ve got the magic touch.”

You both stood on the pavement outside the still-bustling restaurant in a comfortable silence. Between drags on your cigarette, you snuck looks at him leaning against a small planter across from you, he always managed to catch you looking.

“So, uh, did you drive here?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Walked, just live down the way…” You pointed to your right, to the direction of your apartment building.

“Nice, nice…” He trailed off.

“Um,” you stuttered out, getting his attention again. “Would you mind…walking me home? If it’s not too much trouble, it’s just that it’s dark and…”

“Sure,” he said, cutting you off with a smile.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You were always very street smart, and you were pretty good at picking up on if someone was dodgy or not. There was just something about Joost that made you trust him, he seemed very honest, and you saw how his hands shook when you first met; you knew he was just as nervous as you.

As you walked, you continued to chat–just smalltalk mostly, he was telling a story about his friends from school. His face lit up when he spoke about the things he loved, you could tell he had so much passion about music and his friends and art.

You didn’t notice that along the walk, you both slowly started to drift towards each other, not until your fingers lightly brushed against each other. Without hesitation, he grabbed your hand, fingers firmly intertwined with yours. And he never even faltered in conversation, but you saw his smile as you held onto him–a smile you returned.

Eventually you made it to the front of your building. As you slowed your heart hurt just a bit that the night was coming to an end.

You both stood in silence for a moment, you’d let go of his hand now and your palm was much too cold.

“Well…” You started. “I should…”

Joost nodded. If you weren’t so wrapped up in your melancholy you would’ve noticed the same look of sadness in his eyes.

“This was really fun though,” you continued. “We should do this again sometime.”

He smiled, you could for sure get used to that smile. “Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m free so we can get a drink somewhere or something.”

“Sounds good,” you grinned back at him, another moment of silence. “Get home safe.”

He nodded, then leant forward with his arms open. This hug was…stronger than the quick, polite one in the restaurant, you were truly engulfed in him this time, you could smell the cologne he was wearing; something warm and homely, but not like the kind that smelt like food, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it exactly though.

You didn’t want to let go, locking your hands around his waist. You couldn’t say how long you both stood in that embrace, it was like time stopped as you were taken up by him. You turned your head to look at him, he was looking at you.

Without too much thought to convince you against it, you closed the gap between your faces.

His lips were softer than you thought they would be, and his mustache didn’t tickle your face like you assumed it would have. Joost deepened the kiss, placing a gentle hand on the side of your neck. He was being so gentle, like you could’ve shattered under his touch. But you were hungry, you wished it would last forever, getting totally and utterly lost in him.

Once you had pulled away for a proper breath your bodies separated, you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“I should get going,” he said, breaking the silence.

You nodded. “Good night, Joost.”

“‘Night.”

You began to walk towards your building, a smile on your face that you couldn’t even try to hide. You entered the code to get in the front door and opened it, looking back to where Joost was standing. He wasn’t making any effort to walk away, he was just standing, watching you with a smile much like yours.

In a moment of unfound confidence you spoke, not even registering what you were saying as it left your lips. “Would you like to come up for a drink?”

It was a loaded question, you knew it and he knew it. But the aching between your legs wouldn’t let you get embarrassed by your forwardness.

He silently followed you into the building, grabbing your hand that held the heavy, tinted glass door for him as he stepped over the precipice. No words were shared as you waited for the elevator; his warm hand spoke enough, lightly tracing the end of his thumb over the back of your hand.

The elevator was empty apart from you two, and it seemed almost to halt to a stop as it slowly chugged up to the seventh floor where your quaint one bedroom apartment was. You leant against the cool metal wall opposite the doors, Joost was doing the same next to you.

There was an air of…anticipation surrounding you, mixed with excitement, and a little apprehensiveness. You looked at Joost, this was one of the first times you’d looked at him when he wasn’t looking at you, you could truly look at him now, really perceive him. You noticed the bags under his eyes, and how the colour of his eyebrows transitioned from a deep gold to almost pure white. He told you over dinner that he was bullied in school for the way he looked, and you could understand why–kids are cruel–but he looked perfect to you.

He caught you staring out the corner of his eye, he smirked at you. You let out a low chuckle as heat rose to your cheeks when he turned to look at you.

“You look nice,” you said in a low whisper.

“Nice?” He feigned confusion.

“Like you look kind, that sort of nice,” you continued. “Also you just…have a nice face.”

He showed off a proud smile.

Your apartment was warm, you’d left a window cracked open and the August air crept its way in over the course of the evening. Joost watched as you hung up your jacket by the door, pulled off your boots and dropped your keys on your small, cluttered dining table. He wasn’t sure what to do–or even how to stand–as you stepped into your tiny kitchen and opened the fridge.

“I have…some orange wine, but it’s not very good, or I have pear juice.” You looked up at him, fidgeting in his spot near the front door. “You can hang up your jacket, take off your shoes if you like.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, then slipped his sneakers off and took off his jacket. For the first time you saw all his tattoos, his arms were littered with little scrawled drawings. You wondered if each of them had a meaning, you would love to hear the stories behind them all. “Uh, I’ll have some pear juice.”

You sprung to action, grabbing two mis-matched glasses from your cabinet and pouring the juice into each of them. Joost followed you as you carefully stepped towards your sofa–so you didn’t spill any of the sticky juice onto your floor.

“Your place is nice,” he commented once you were both comfortably sitting on the sofa–at a distance.

“Thanks…” You looked around at the white walls that were decorated with framed posters of a couple of your favourite films. “It’s good for now.”

“It’s a home…” There was a look of melancholy in Joost’s eyes, it made you wonder. “I travel a lot, so I’m not really home a lot.”

You nodded, taking a sip.

“I can see you in here though, it’s-uh-it’s very you,” he continued, a small smile on his lips.

Something about Joost seeing you in your home–your haven–made you smile. He’d been so attentive over dinner, and it made you happy to think he was listening to you, understanding you.

“You’re very sweet,” you said after a short moment of silence. You’d noticed that silence was comfortable with Joost, you didn’t feel the painful urge to have to fill every second with a new question or an unrelated story. Conversation just felt so natural with him.

He turned away, pressing his face into his shoulder at that. You saw his cheeks redden. Part of you loved how the smallest compliment made his blush so much, you hoped you’d be able to give him more, deeper compliments just to see what he would do.

You were feeling brave. You placed your glass of the coffee table and slithered towards him on the sofa, placing a light hand on his knee. His skin was hot. He looked back towards you as you grabbed the glass from his hand and placed it next to yours.

“Is this okay?” You asked in a low voice.

Joost didn’t reply, just placing a gentle hand on the side of your neck and leaning forward to kiss you. This kiss wasn’t like your sweet, goodnight kiss outside, there was a subtext to it. You quickly opened your lips, letting your tongues meet. He pulled you closer so your chests were pressed together. You skin felt too hot, you were sweating even as a breeze blew in through the open window next to you.

You parted, quickly pulling your blouse over your head in hopes you’ll cool off. You saw Joost’s eyes widen, looking down at your body. His mouth was immediately back on yours, wet and messy as your hand returned to his knee before slowly inching further and further up his thigh. You pressed your fingertips into his flesh, getting a low moan from him.

He began to press kisses down your neck, settling just below your collarbone. You felt his teeth over the soft skin, and the pressure of him sucking. No doubt there’d be a bruise there later.

“Joost,” you slowly whispered.

“Hmm?” He replied, placing more wet kisses over your chest.

You had to think before you spoke, you could barely string a sentence together with how bothered his wandering hands were making you. “C-can you…”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I want you to eat me out.” You pulled his face off your chest to look you in the eyes. “Please.”

He smirked, pressing your shoulders back until you were laying on the sofa. He quickly peeled your jeans off your hips and down your legs, discarding them on the floor before leaning down to place a gentle kiss at your belly button, then a little lower, and a little lower again.

Once he finally mouthed over your clothed pussy, you were so lightheaded you could barely think straight.

He slowly pulled your panties down your legs, seeing just how much you were dripping. He couldn’t hide the smile plastered across his face at the thought of you so hot and bothered by him.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered, lowering his face to your pussy and placing a light kiss to your clit.

You were so sensitive, you instantly cowered away from his touch. But he grabbed your hips to hold you in place. It felt like the room went cold, with goosebumps raising all over your skin.

You noticed that Joost was watching you, just for a second, though he just looked back to your core once he realised you’d caught him staring. He dove in.

You would’ve thought he hadn’t had dinner with how…passionate he was. He wasn’t letting up, listening to every direction you gave him; ‘lower’ or ‘more fingers’, and a ‘don’t stop’.

Before you knew it, you felt weightless as he drew you into orgasm. It wasn’t like when you did it yourself, you finally understood all those cheesy romance novels talking about seeing stars, because you had a whole galaxy in your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to come down from the high. Joost helped you through it, bringing you back down to Earth with gentle rubs over your hips and a ‘good girl’ thrown in for good measure.

Once you finally caught your breath, you spoke. “I don’t do this all the time, by the way.”

“Do what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“This.” You gestured to, well, your still-naked body on your couch. You would’ve been feeling self conscious if you didn’t just have one of the best orgasms of your life. “I don’t want you to think I’m a slut or anything.”

He laughed. “Leifje, if you’re a slut, I am too.”

His laugh brightened the room, it eased you.

“Well, we haven’t gotten to you yet, have we?”

xxx

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein smut

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miniseokminnies · 1 year ago

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through a different lens — l.sm

❥ pairing: lee seokmin x gn!reader ❥ theme: meet cute, strangers to something ❥ wc: ~3.4k ❥ warnings: fluff, language barrier, mentions of alcohol, author is obviously down bad, author also obviously doesn't live in london (let them live) ❥ a/n: this was supposed to be for valentine's day but kind of turned into a bigger project than i anticipated so it's for seokmin's birthday as well! i really like this one so please let me know what you think!! likes and reblogs appreciated

This wasn’t your scene. Oh God this was not your scene. Your friends always want to go clubbing on Friday nights, and being a good friend you always gave in. However, right about now, when the music was vibrating your skull, being anywhere else sounded amazing.

“y/n!” the voice of your friend pierced through the noise and brought you back from inside your head, “come take a shot!” she smiled at you. Reluctantly you joined your friends, all drunker than you. Someone shoved the small glass into your hand and you threw it back easily and quickly. The liquid burned all the way down into your stomach, you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

Eyes wandering toward the exit of the crowded bar, the thought crossed your mind to leave. Looking back toward your friends they were once again engaged in their own conversations, paying little attention to you. They all expect you to slip out early without telling anyone, you always do.

Cool air bloomed in your lungs and you felt like you could breathe for the first time tonight. The street in front of you was not particularly crowded, the walk home will probably be easy and refreshing. Taking another deep breath of fresh air you began in the direction of your flat. The city used to excite you, but these days you’d rather be home with some tea and a good book. You really wished you had stayed home tonight.

“Excuse me?” you heard a timid voice cut the silence. You suppressed a groan, you hadn’t even been walking for five minutes. Turning toward the source of the voice you were met with the confused face of a man, “Do you know…a place to eat?” he asked, accompanying the question with an eating motion with his hand.

“Uh yeah, there’s a great place down the street a ways and around the corner, if you go past Pennie’s you’ve gone way too far,” looking back at the man you could see the concentration on his face as he tried to remember your directions. Feeling bold from the remaining alcohol in your system you took a step closer to him, “I’ll show you, I could go for a bite too” He smiled at you then, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, even in the darkness of the street you swear his teeth were shining.

“Thank you” he finally said with a bow of his head, breaking your trance and setting your feet in motion. The two of you walked side by side, your arms folded around you, and him clutching his camera. The walk was silent, aside from the man asking to stop to snap pictures a few times. It was odd though, the silence was never once uncomfortable for you, and he made no indication that it was for him either.

Every so often you glanced up at him, getting a better look at him now that the street was more well lit. You noticed his strong nose first, the way the light settled on his face made him look ethereal. Judging by his amazement for a shitty London street, you knew he was a tourist. Looking back at your feet you smiled to yourself, it was nice to see someone so excited about something you see every day.

“This is it!” you smile at him as the two of you approach the restaurant. He nods at you, seemingly waiting for you to enter. He trails behind you as you enter the building and inform the staff that you’ll be needing a table for two. Once you were seated you broke the tension, “So…where are you from?” you asked hesitantly.

“I am from Korea” he spoke slowly, but you saw his eyes light up at your question. Speaking of his eyes, sitting across the table from him you now saw them fully, a warm brown that compliments his tanned skin nicely. There are crinkles at the corners of his eyes, indicating that smile he flashed at you in the street was a normal part of his communication.

“That’s far,” you remarked, taking a sip of your water, “what brings you here?”

“Mmm” he thought for a moment, “holiday” he answered simply. You nodded as he looked around the restaurant, “my name is Seokmin” his eyes found yours again.

“My name is y/n” you exchanged with a small smile. Something about the kindness in his eyes made you squirm under his gaze. When the waiter came around to your table you once again decided to be bold, ordering fish and chips for Seokmin and yourself. If he came all the way from Korea you felt it was your duty to show him London’s best classics. Was it jumping too far to feel like he had met you in the street for a reason?

“Two beers, please” Seokmin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts once again. He was smiling up at the waiter holding up two fingers. The waiter nodded and headed toward the kitchen.

“Good call” you smiled at him, hoping to get a better look at his face when he smiles in return. Just your luck, he turned to you beaming. His eyes do crinkle when he smiles.

The food came quickly, not that you would have minded if it took a little longer than usual. Seokmin has a way of making you feel at ease, even in a social situation that would typically make you incredibly nervous. He did his best keeping up with conversation, you felt terrible about not being able to communicate in his native language.

Seokmin stared down at his plate, his eyes widening at the amount of food. “Try it, try it” you nearly squealed. You did not even dare to pick up your fork until you knew he liked the food. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand as his delicate fingers picked his fork up from the table. He lifted the bite of fish to his lips and popped it in his mouth. Immediately, he let out a satisfied sound.

“This is good!” he smiled after he swallowed. You smiled back at him and cut the fish with your fork as well. At some point in the meal, you were completely enthralled in Seokmin. The way he moved interested you even and even though you didn’t know nearly anything about him, somehow you knew you had never met anyone like him.

Something then made him laugh under his breath. Putting your glass down you gave him a questioning look. Trying not to smile, he gestured with his finger around his mouth. At this, your hand flew to your lips and you flushed with embarrassment as you felt the foam from your beer on your upper lip.

You could hear him nearly choking on his laugh and your eyes lifted again to meet his. Immediately, he tried to avert his glance, but you could tell he was still stifling his giggles. You felt your cheeks heat up again, and butterflies settle in your stomach. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in that moment. Pulling out your phone and positioning it so he was in your view finder you remarked,

“You should see how silly you look trying to hold back your teasing,” his eyes crinkled again at this, butterflies erupted in your stomach, and he threw up a peace sign, inviting you to take the picture. “Look!” you exclaimed, turning your phone so he could see the picture. Seokmin was laughing now, throwing his head back and clapping, the whole thing. You were lucky that in his excitement, he missed the fond look you gave him without even realizing.

“Do you know your way back to where you’re staying?” you asked earnestly once the two of you had paid and were outside the restaurant. He nodded at you and turned his phone, much like you did earlier, so you could see that he had the address and walking directions pulled up. “Good, now,” you pulled your phone out, “give me your number, I don’t want you getting lost”

***

Your life continued as normal the next day. Waking up, thankful you didn’t drink much the night before, you slipped out of bed toward the kitchen. Clicking on the kettle you think about the night before. Meeting Seokmin almost felt like it was a dream, but you have a photo on your phone to prove it wasn’t. He had also insisted that you send the picture you took, so you do have at least one thread of text conversation.

You reached for a mug, wishing you were taller, and heard your phone buzz on the counter. Assuming it was one of your friends texting you asking where you disappeared to last night, you continued to make your tea. Then your phone buzzed two more times, none of your friends would be that desperate to talk to you. Once your tea bag was securely in your mug you grabbed your phone.

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): y/n

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): the bus

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): ?????

Your heart skipped a beat realizing he actually texted you. Then, you began laughing realizing what he was asking.

You: do you need help?

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): yes

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): please

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent their location

Oh. Oh. He wanted to meet up again, you nearly spat out your tea seeing the notifications pop in. Checking his location you saw that he is at a bus stop a twenty minute walk away from you. You scrambled to get ready and ran out the door.

You saw him immediately when you rounded the corner to the stop. He was looking through his pictures on his camera, fully engrossed in his task. He looked up as you approached and moved toward you.

“y/n” he breathed

“How may I help” you smiled, giving a dramatic bow. He moved toward you, pulling out his phone. Standing at your side he showed his phone screen, with a bus route pulled up. “oh, easy” you looked up at him, trying not to blush at the sudden closeness, “I take that bus all the time”

You paid Seokmin’s bus fare, it’s the least you could do after he paid for the dinner you invited yourself to last night. Seokmin dragged you by the sleeve to the back of the bus, which is a place you would normally avoid but seeing how excited he was, you didn’t mind.

As the bus began to move Seokmin watched out the window, the city zooming by. You watched him watch the window. He looked cute when he was focused. The thick black framed glasses perched on his nose reflected the scenery. Without thinking you pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of him just like last night. Seokmin must have seen you out of the corner of his eye because he turned toward you.

He raised his camera and watched you through the viewfinder for several moments. You covered your face with your hands in a futile attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. You heard the shutter click a few times and then silence. Removing your hands you look up at him to find he is looking right back at you. Seemingly he became flustered and turned back towards the window.

You realized halfway through the trip, you weren’t actually sure where you two were going. Sure, you took this route all the time, but you didn’t know where Seokmin wanted to go. The only indication you had that it was time to get off the bus was Seokmin standing up suddenly. It was a stop you never get off at, but you follow him out and onto the street.

He grabbed his phone and pulled you closer to him by your sleeve. You felt your stomach swoop at the sudden breaking of the flimsy wall between you. Trying to not read too far into his action you glanced at his phone. He had pulled up the walking directions to a nearby thrift shop.

The walk was not too long, and the two of you passed the time easily. Every so often Seokmin would point something out and tell you the Korean word for it, which in turn you would give him the English word. His eyes were trained on you so attentively when you spoke it made you almost nervous.

Rounding the corner you saw the store he was hoping to visit. You may have been here once or twice, but it’s nowhere you frequent. He pulled the door open and held it for you. You smiled at him as a thanks, which earned you a blinding smile in return. Lucky you.

The two of you strayed away from each other, looking in different sections for a while. You swiped through the selection of shirts in your size, trying not to look around for Seokmin. The fabric in your hands didn’t feel real, you were distracted. You moved around to the rack of pants, which was closer to the set of stairs in the store which led to the music section upstairs.

You continued to browse through the pants, not really interested. Movement near the stairs made you look up, Seokmin was looking at the records hanging on the wall. He investigated them on his own for several moments, fully engrossed, before looking around for something, you hoped it was you he was looking for. As if he could read your mind his eyes settled on you from across the room, smiling, he called

“Jagiya!” As soon as the word rolled off his tongue, his eyes widened and his hand flew to his mouth. He obviously was under the impression he said something he shouldn’t have, if only you knew what it meant, “y/n” he corrected himself after taking a moment to calm down. You left the rack of pants behind almost immediately,

“Hmm?” you hummed once you were at his side on the stairs. Sleeves of your jackets brushing against each other. Seokmin pointed at the records on the wall, he was obviously excited. “Music lover, hm?” you smiled up at him.

“Yes” he smiled back, eyes almost closed, “I’m a singer” he added. Seokmin wished you could see your face right now, you looked amazed at the confession, your lips forming a little ‘o’.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime” you said before remembering you had no idea how long you would be around each other. However, he just beamed and nodded at you. The two of you wandered around the music store upstairs for a while, Seokmin taking a particular interest in the selection of The Beatles vinyls.

Watching him closely, you noted the ring he wore, the delicate way he moved through the records. Seokmin was so interesting to you, everything he did seemed to be with purpose, but he also seemed carefree at times. Again, you wished so desperately to be able to communicate with him easier.

Eventually, you made it out of the store. The sun bit through the cold of the air and warmed your face. Closing your eyes you moved to face the sun and took a deep breath. You stayed here for several moments before hearing the click of Seokmin’s shutter again. Your eyes snapped open and toward him, his camera still raised, he watched you through the viewfinder again.

“Hey!” you laughed, “Stop that”

“You look happy” he replied simply, lowering his camera, looking at you fondly. There was nothing to do about the blush blooming across your cheeks, and you did nothing to hide it this time. He walked toward you and gestured down the street, “shall we walk?” he suggested.

The walk was quiet, but again, comfortable. Seokmin switched what hand he was carrying his camera in, letting the hand closest to you drop to his side. Periodically, his knuckles brushed against yours, giving you the feeling of electricity running up your arm every time. The tension crackled between the two of you until Seokmin stopped in front of a restaurant, “Hungry?” he looked at you, tilting his head to the side, a gesture that reminded you so much of a puppy it was insane.

“So hungry,” you agreed. Soon enough the two of you were seated at a booth that felt more like a couch. Comfortable silence fell between you as you looked over the menu, you eyed him a few times before he put his menu down.

After your orders were placed Seokmin brought out his camera and began to look through his photos. Every so often he would tilt the screen so you could see, most of the shots he showed you were of you. Suddenly, his phone began to buzz incessantly. You watched as his eyebrows knit together in confusion and he picked up his phone to check it.

“Ah” he sighed, and placed his phone face down back on the table, “My friend Soonyoung….” his eyes drifted around the restaurant, he was thinking of what to say next, “jagiya—“ he laughed and clutched the white knit beanie that sat on his head, “my English”

“Talk to me in Korean,” you shrugged nonchalantly, “I won’t understand, but I’ll listen” you assured him. His eyes lit up, and he immediately began talking animatedly. You were amazed at the change in him once he was speaking comfortably. Watching him attentively you took in the way his hands accompanied his enthusiasm.

You could tell, Seokmin was a person who was just full of love. Anyone lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that love was someone you were jealous of. You would do anything to sit in his light for as long as he would allow you.

***

“My last day” Seokmin’s voice still laced with sleep mumbled through your phone. You don’t know what possessed him to call you this morning but you would never complain.

“Today?” you asked, feeling a bit nervous, “do you have plans?”

“Mhmm” he hummed, “Join me later?” you could feel your heart jump up into your throat at the question.

“Of course” you mumbled trying to steady your voice.

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent a location

The sun setting overhead cast the street in watercolors of pinks and blues. Your eyes scanned through the throng of people all here to watch the sunset over the river. He caught your attention almost instantly, he was facing away from the river, arms propped up on the stone barrier, eyes closed enjoying the night air.

As you approached you watched as the breeze caught his bangs and ruffled them. Before making your presence known you snapped a picture of him looking so serene.

“Hey” you ventured, now right in front of him. His eyes cracked open, taking in your frame. Almost instantly his face was overtaken with a smile.

“Hi” he replied. You moved to stand next to him, facing the river and he turned to look out with you. Both of you stood in quiet contemplation for several minutes.

“You know,” you broke through the tension, “I haven’t been here in so long.” your eyes trained on the clock face of Big Ben across the water, “Somehow, you’ve reminded me of all the parts of my city I love” Seokmin shifted to face you,

“I love the city,” you met his eyes, it felt as though he was trying to tell you something.

“You leave tomorrow” you turned toward him, “is it weird if I say I’ll miss you?” Seokmin shook his head as the wind picked up. Once more, the breeze caught both of your hair. Seokmin moved to brush yours aside, searching your eyes to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. You were glued to your spot, you wouldn’t dare move. Finally you felt his slender fingers in your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

You felt your breath hitch in your lungs as Seokmin’s fingers trailed down and he cupped your cheek with his hand. Absentmindedly, you melted into his touch.

“I leave tomorrow” he sighed as he echoed your previous statement. His other hand found your other cheek and his thumb brushed against it softly. The both of you stood frozen for a moment, neither of you wanting to break the spell.

Suddenly, Seokmin was leaning down toward you, and you felt his soft lips brush yours. The kiss was quick, but full of meaning. It seemed like he was communicating all the things he had wanted to say over the last few days that he couldn’t find the words for.

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luvchaew · 16 days ago

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behind the scenes 𝆕 caught in 4k

the not-so-average daily life of heeseung and 5th member of aespa if they dated publicly and were horrible at hiding the relationship act one ⨾ where you accidentally join heeseung's live and the camera catches you

“loving isn't a sin, is it?” idol!heeseung x 5thmemberofaespa!reader wc𓈒 690 — not proofread! ✴ fluff, established relationship, cursing, pet names (angel, babe)

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

you had checked your phone twice, maybe three times, as you waited for your two ramyeons to be ready — an extra spicy with chicken and eggs and one not even a bit spicy with veggies — for your boyfriend for you: you had to make sure heeseung was not live, specially not showing his face.

you'd worked all day at hybe building, and even if it seemed a bit scary being alone at a company that you don't mainly work for, familiar smiles and your love for writing music got you through the day with ease. now, you only desired to eat (since you hadn't eaten the whole day) and to finally meet your boyfriend. you wouldn't admit, of course, but the tension of knowing he was there all day had you thanking, for the first time, that you didn't work together, because how could you focus when he was right there?

with two bowls, a purse and a hoodie at hand, you struggled to walk to the studio heeseung was, and despite nearly tripping sometimes, you found your way to the small room. by the door, you checked the number until your brain was convinced that was, in fact, room number #6, and that if you opened that door, nobody but the tall man you waited all day long to see would be found inside.

you opened the door widely without even knocking — because you wanted to make a surprise, and spoiler: wrong idea. — exposing yourself smiling happily, eager.

“babe! i brought ram-,” was all you enthusiasticly said before noticing the grand mistake you'd just done: heeseung, actually, was doing a livestream, and the camera could catch not only him, but the door and everything that came across it.

your eyes widened, and you felt your body stiff completely. you made eye contact with him for some seconds — enough to catch the surprise and the distant fear of his gaze — before you started to bow repeatedly, muttering “i'm so sorry!,” maybe millions of times, and closed the door shut with a loud thud, your heartbeat echoing at your right ear.

you just stayed there, your mind spinning too much for you to just run out of there, and the next thing you knew? heeseung was outside the room with you, his eyes penetrating yours with nothing but pity. he closed the door behind him, stepping closer to you as he picked up one of the bowls from your hand — the one that contained his favorite flavor, by the way.

“wait for me outside until i finish the live, okay? and don't worry too much, we'll handle this. thanks for the ramyeon, i was starving,“ despite the incident, he was calm, almost smiling, a silent reminder to why he was always the one to end your arguments and to perceive everything with a good mindset. both of you knew that would lead to an hour and a half of conversation and a lot of “you can't expose yourselves like that,” 's, but genuinely, it didn't seem as bad as they treated it like. you weren't commiting a sin, were you?

heeseung pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, reassuring, understanding, a soft hum escaping his lips while he nuzzled into your hair. he came back to the room chuckling, fucking chuckling, amused. the enthusiasm in which he said “i'm back and with food!,” to his fans made you brave enough to force your legs to walk, the walk towards the hallway now suddenly looking too long, too tiring.

while you patiently waited on a couch next to the studios, every little noise leading you to look at the door of room number #6, hoping it was heeseung, enhypen's manager found you, and the disapproving look he gave you when his eyes lingered on you were everything to prove that, in fact, you were cooked. when your boyfriend left the room, his headphones beautifully resting around his neck, the only thing he whispered to you before walking side by side, hands intertwined, towards the manager's office was: “people at the comments were going crazy. you're really brave, aren't you, angel?,”

first thing i ever posted here, hope it's not that bad >.<

#heeseung #enhypen #enhypen au #evan #i wanna kiss heeseung so bad #laura on tumblr

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hitoshilover · 1 month ago

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parties

directory | masterlist

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary: parties are lame, but cute blue eyed boys definitely aren’t.

warnings: soft dom!gojo, praise, sprinkles of fluff, oral (fem receiving), penetration, very vanilla, just overall loving and sweet, mentions of drinking, hickeys

wc: 1K

a/n: happy im-out-of-hiatus-post

blaring pop music filled the room, accompanied by drunk individuals; not very much your scene, and neither was the blue eyed mans' across the kitchen. he looked in the fridge for water and, unfortunately, could not find any, "ugh," he sighed to himself. maybe he also wasn't having a good day, why not talk to him? he seemed like the only normal person here after all.

"'scuse me," you shuffled through horny couples and flirtatious personalities- finding your way to this interesting character.

you stood in front of him, looking up at his intensely crystal eyes, "hey," his voice fighting the loud music.

"are you having fun," you paused and he just stared at you...

he looked down, solemnly, "not really, no."

perfect- wait no that's rude, you thought to yourself. just perfect that he wasn't in the same state of mind as everyone else.

"you wanna talk about it?"

he shrugged, "why not."

the man must've known this house because he grabbed you and led you through the crowd and into a dimly lit room; it was silent and had a very warm feeling.

"whats' your name?"

"hey hey, don't try to divert the conversation, what's up with you," you teasingly protested.

he softly smiled, "i don't know, just kinda thinking a lot about the past recently. i thought being here would make me feel better- but i just feel worse."

"i understand, do you want to leave?"

"nah, it's my friends party."

"oh cool, how'd you two meet?"

the next hour and a half went by quickly, both of you sharing personal stories and just bonding. you'd not felt so close to someone in a minute.

"you make it really easy to talk," satoru admitted, his soft gaze reappearing on his face. his gaze deepened, as if staring right through you, placing an arm on your waist and inching closer to you at the edge of the bed.

"oh," you were slightly taken aback.

he locked eyes with your lips, "is this okay?"

you bit your lip and nodded, his other hand cupping your flushed cheeks. the sound of your heavy breath and his deep kisses flooded the room, louder than the music.

within less than 5 minutes, satoru lifted you onto his clothed lap, your black dress slightly lifting up and exposing your thighs. back and forth your hips rocked onto him as he left hickeys on your neck. the white haired boy held you close, fingers tangling into your hair.

you moved back for a minute, letting the straps of your dress trickle down your shoulders.

"shit," he mumbled in response to your teasing while slowly pulling down the remainder of the dress.

you unbuckled your bra, and as it fell he went to trace kisses down your chest making his way to your tender nipples.

you shifted, attempting to adjust to this new pleasure, "fuck," you sighed out.

"you're so beautiful," he whispered.

this wasn't just fucking, though you'd met him just about an hour ago, it was sex.

after a while of teasing your chest, you stood up to fully remove your gorgeous dress, satoru removed his dark suit, revealing his handsome figure. he stood up and walked over to you, making you look at him through your lashes, wrapping his strong arms around your pretty curves. his lips met yours once more, now accompanied by his length between your body- the mere though of him inside you excited you.

satoru spun you around and slowly placed your back onto the bed, never removing his gentle lips off yours.

he lifted himself, now moving onto the edge of the bed, his lips just as eager to eat your cunt as he was your face. satoru licked a stripe up your slit, making you squirm which was just enough to want to make you go crazy.

"you're so perfect like this," he peered up at you.

his tongue licked circles around your sensitive pussy, precum spilling out of you. you cried out his name, bucking your hips into his face repeatedly. your thighs slowly closed in on his face from the pleasure, this did not stop him. the shock of his nose touching your clit send you over the edge, causing you to cum all over his pretty face.

satoru allowed you time to recover your breath, "you did such a good job for me," he smiled.

he aligned his thick cock with your entrance and teased you for a minute, causing you to whine. since he didn't prep you, he slowly added each inch. you could feel your pussy stretching, but the pain and pleasure made you such a mess for him.

"holy shit, satoru," you gasped.

"i know, i know, pretty," his comforting words didn't do much for your physical pain but motivated you to take all of it.

inch by inch you adapted to his size, though he had to hold you in place. the pain was almost unbearable, but god damn was his praise worth it; and forget about it when he was entirely inside you.

"i knew you could do it, pretty."

slowly he motioned in and out of you, but as he went on he got more aggressive, more needy for your moans and perfect body. more needy to cum all over you and take you entirely. all he needed was someone to let him talk, but now he's making your body talk. your body couldn't handle his aggression, moving all over the place, but he held you down.

"it's okay, you're doing such a good job, okay?" he assured.

"mmm," you winced.

within only a few more thrusts he shoved his entire cock in your tight pussy, cumming inside of you.

"fuck," he grunted out.

you breathed heavily, entire face red and still so needy for him and his beautiful body. satoru was at eye level with your twitching cunt, watching the mix of both of you guys' falling out of you. he kissed your pussy teasingly, and you whined with each soft kiss.

satoru slid your dress on your sensitive body, and then he dressed himself.

he ordered a car to take you both to his place, he carried you up the stairs to his apartment. you wrapped your arms around his neck, and soon he softly placed you down on his bed. he replaced your dress with a t-shirt of his, and boxers. as you peacefully slept, he showered and then came to cuddle you.

#멜 #ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ #gojo smut #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo satoru #jujutsu satoru #satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo

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steviewashere · 9 days ago

Text

You're Pretty, Too

Rating: General CW: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Minor Character Death (Eddie's Mom, Steve's Grandpa) Tags: Different First Meeting AU, Met in Childhood, Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending, Child Eddie Munson, Child Steve Harrington, Getting Together, First Kiss, Al Munson is an Asshole, Steve Harrington's Father Being an Asshole, Eddie Loved His Mom, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Meeting Again, Dialogue Heavy This is a fully fledged fic from this post, if you want some full context. Also on AO3 because it got really long.

🫂—————🫂 It starts like a horror movie in the dark and the cold.

In the shrouding darkness, in the only light being within a shaking hand, with yelling, with the brutality of living. He’s never been one to find the good in the bad—Munsons don’t do that, not much, not really. And his papa had a knack for showing them what their worth. Last wrung, the liquid at the bottom of a garbage can, in ash.

Eddie didn’t know what to do without his mama; who to run to, who to turn to, who to love. He’d be reaching for his papa’s hand even with the knife’s blade sharp, shiny, pointed at his pale-skinned neck. Growing up was a lot of chasing the pavement below his bare feet in the hot summer sun, letting it lick his heels, burn him in the soles. Running away from the conflict of a drunk, angry man and the grief webbed around his home—he never knew where he was going, to his mama’s headstone, or to the burbling ponds with their timid, bread-bloated ducks, or up in the bends leading narrow to alleys home to the gnarly stray cats with their raggedy fur. The world made it clear he wasn’t cut for it—not from the same cloth as some of the boys in his intermixed classroom; all those older boys always standing over his buzzed head and gangly limbs sent star-sprawled across the playground. He was a bug, the sun a magnifying glass, the kids like rubber boots, and his papa the glue trap.

His papa taught him how to start up a car when he was seven. Taking him on all the big scenes, handing him the flashlight already clicked on, telling him to hold it steady so they could get in and out. If they were running, then he was chasing his papa’s legs—he was holding his hand; the only time he was holding his hand—and in the aftermath, he was biting through the candy bar his papa managed to pocket in the chaos. His teeth ached from the sugar, but he knew better than to question the pain—he wasn’t dead, so he was thankful; even as hungry as he was, even though he watched his papa pocket the Sudafed to sell instead of the oranges to eat. They made money from these escapades and Eddie had no reason to challenge them. It’s not like he brought in anything.

The final job, his papa takes him to a restaurant. It’s spacious, glimmering, the music heard from the sidewalk. Every parking space occupied by cars shinier than Eddie’s fingernails, and he knows what they’re here to do.

He’s handed the flashlight. “Be steady,” his papa mutters, “‘m gonna get them wires, see if I can get ‘em to spark.” The car they’re in is black and all the seats are genuine leather. There’s shag on the ceiling, on the floor. Top of the line radio. In the backseat, a booster. Some crayons scattered on the middle seat—a coloring book that Eddie can’t quite catch the name on. His dad must see him stumbling away from the task, his calloused right hand grabbing for Eddie’s face, squeezing him tight enough that his teeth threaten to come loose, and he’s pulled back. “I said stay steady,” his dad grits, “or I’m gonna make you walk. You wanna hav’ta walk home? Huh, Edward?”

“It’s Eddie,” he quietly whines.

“Quit your cryin’ or I’m gonna give you somethin’ to cry about.”

“Sorry, Papa,” Eddie murmurs, “I’ll pay attention now.”

“You better.”

And that’s that. He holds the flashlight with both hands. And he hides his tears. Until—

There’s commotion. Yelling. Shouting. He’s yanked from the front passenger seat by a stronger hand than his dad’s, yet just as calloused. Whoever grabbed him smells like spice and that foul juice his papa is always drinking. They’re strong, burly. Tossing him to the side, to the curb.

It’s a whirlwind, but Eddie catches who must be the owner of the car—some important man, judging by his well-fitted suit—is holding his papa against the side of the restaurant, smushing his smarmy face against the bricks, growling words too low to catch in their entirety. There’s a woman, too, swaying on her feet—like it’s taking all her energy just to stay upright—but she isn’t saying anything, isn’t really doing anything. And there’s a little boy, most likely around Eddie’s age, who’s standing on the same sidewalk as him. The little boy is first knuckle deep in his right nostril, he’s holding a clamshell leftover container to his abdomen—also in a well-fitting suit, though the tie is too long for him, actively peeking out of the jacket—but he just stands there.

There’s police sirens whooping, getting closer and closer. It happens, again, in a whirlwind—all the commotion. His dad’s in handcuffs, forced to sit in the backseat of this patrol car. Eddie’s being asked to just stay still, being told he’s not in trouble despite holding the flashlight. So he’s cowered on the sidewalk, twisting his fingers around until they pop and then pop some more. The dad of this little family begins shouting again, he has a lot of fervor, a lot of passion he’s been bottling up—if his wide eyes and snarling lip and spray of spit are anything to go by through all this. And then—

“Why did you try to steal my daddy’s car?” the boy suddenly asks, flicking something off his finger. Eddie didn’t even realize he had left his spot. His voice is squeaky and bright and sweet, despite it all. He’s got an inch on Eddie, his hair seems to have been meticulously styled at one point—thought that’s more of a passing thought, it’s drooping and flopping now, strands getting into his face. He’s staring at Eddie with these big, also drooping, hazel eyes. The takeout container in his hands is passed back and forth between his palms, almost like he’s nervous. “My daddy paid lots and lots and lots of money for his car. At least, that’s what he told me.”

Eddie just swallows and wrings his hands together again—his knuckles won’t pop anymore, but the stretch is enough. Then, he shrugs. “My papa said I had to,” he mutters, “so that we can have food. I didn’t know it was wrong, I’m sorry.”

“It’s very wrong.”

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, hanging his head. It’s a shame that his head is buzzed. His hair used to be long enough that it would dangle down and cover his face; it was hair that he could hide in, if need be. Until, well, his dad buzzed it near completely off, telling Eddie in this particular tone that long hair was only for pansies. (For sissies, he didn’t say. For pussies.) He can see his dad, even when he looks down towards the parking lot, can see his impatient feet dangling over the edge of the open patrol car door—tapping away in that furious way he always does; it’s saved for when he’s really mad—and when Eddie can finally catch his dad’s gaze, the anger is set on him, not the men in blue. “I shouldn’t have done it, but my papa said I had to help”—he continues to hold his dad’s angry stare—“I trust my papa.”

“My daddy has lots of money,” the boy abruptly tells him. “Don’t you have money? To get your own car?”

Eddie throws him a sidelong glance. One that wavers, still too timid in his boots to hold something steady. Be steady. Be steady. “I had a dollar from the tooth fairy,” he tells quietly. The kid tilts his head like a clueless puppy. “Had?”

He shrugs again. “My papa needed it. Said we had to get a candy bar so he can keep all the expensive stuff he put in his pockets.” When he looks back at his dad, there’s nothing there, except for his still tapping feet. Helpless, lost in the chaos, he can only look back to the all too curious kid. “Why’re you talkin’ to me? Aren’t your parents mad at me?”

“They’re mad at your daddy,” the boy explains, “not you. But…I don’t know, I can tell they don’t like you anyway. Sometimes, when my daddy is really angry, he looks at me like that”—he points shyly to his dad, who just finished giving a smoldering stare to Eddie—“that’s before he grabs the wooden spoon. It scares me a little. Says it gets his frus-tra-tions out—I dunno what that means. Maybe he’ll do it tonight.”

A pit has been gently forming, crumbling the sides of Eddie’s stomach, for the entire night. Now, it sinks like an airplane ready to crash. He’s got guilt the size of the moon in his soul, guilt that shouldn’t be his—but it’s not like his dad is going to take to it. “My papa does that, too,” Eddie quietly admits—like maybe if he can relate, the kid won’t blame him for what happens back home—“but he says it’s to teach me a lesson. He’s good at teaching lessons.”

“Hm,” the boy hums. “Daddy says that kinda stuff, too. I don’t believe him sometimes. Sometimes it just hurts.” Then, he looks at Eddie again, those droopy eyes soft and curious. “What’s your name? We’ve been talkin’ and I don’t know your name. Daddy says it’s good to get somebody’s name. For big connections. I also dunno what that means. He talks and makes money, so I guess I don’t need to know. He talks forever. Forever and ever! That’s why we were here tonight, he’s talkin’ to his partners from”—the kid puffs out his chest, deepening his voice to bellow—“The Branch.” And then he shoots Eddie a gap-toothed grin—his two front teeth are sitting apart from each other, just barely, and he’s missing a fang on the left side. It’s dorky. It’s sweet.

“I’m Eddie,” he speaks again, quietly, “what’s your name?”

“Steve!” he exclaims. “Or, well, I’m s’posed to be Steven. But my friend, Tommy, gave me a nickname. And guess what?!” Eddie doesn’t even get the chance to answer before—“Tommy is a nickname, too! His real name is Thomas, but he doesn’t like it. Says it makes him feel grown up. But we’re only six. We’re not s’posed to be big yet. You should see him sometime, I think maybe you guys could play trucks together—though Tommy likes the big yellow truck. Says it’s like his daddy’s work. I dunno what Tommy’s dad does. Buildin’ stuff, maybe. I wonder what he builds. Maybe those big, tall buildings in New York—I see ‘em all the time when my daddy wants to take me ‘cause he’s a law-yer and has to go—oh, sometimes my daddy says I gotta stay home when he leaves with Mommy ‘cause of his big work stuff”—Steve stops to take a deep breath, chuckling at the tail end of it—“but that’s okay. I get to be alone at home! It’s quiet when they aren’t there, no more yelling. And I get to eat my food in front of the TV, and I can have ice cream for breakfast and”—

“Eddie is a nickname, too. My mama named me Edward. Like my great-grandpa. Said he was a special man. That he was important to her.”

Steve grins big at him again. His hair is in his eyes. Something in Eddie makes him want to swipe it away—he only twists his fingers tighter, tighter until they pop. “That’s cool,” Steve says, “you seem cool. Your hair is different, though. Never seen such little hair before. ‘Cept from my teacher. But he doesn’t count. Not really.” He leans into Eddie’s personal bubble, lowering his voice. “He’s bald,” Steve whispers.

“Yeah?” Eddie giggles out.

The hair in Steve’s eyes doesn’t get any better when he bobbles his head up and down. “Mhm! Yeah! Tommy says he has no hair from stress. I dunno what Mister…I dunno what his name is now. Somethin’ long, I think. Maybe that makes him freak out? Sayin’ his name all the time.” Steve tilts his head up towards the night sky—whatever little light there is makes his eyes shiny, and so much bigger than they seem—his lips are pursed, eyes squinted, tapping away at his chin in thought. Then, he shrugs and looks back to Eddie. “Doesn’t matter. I think he has no hair because his cat licked it all off. My nana has a cat and it licks my hair sometimes, it’s very funny. Like it’s cleanin’ me.”

Eddie quirks a small smile, to which Steve returns tenfold. “I like cats,” he whispers.

“You have to meet my nana’s cat! He’s grey with stripes and he’s loud and he has six toes on his front right paw and he’s very fat. His name is Goose, which is super silly because he’s a cat, not a goose and he likes to eat and sometimes I feed him cheese when Nana isn’t looking because it makes him happy”—again, Steve leans into Eddie’s space, his eyes wide, eyebrows shot up his forehead, a giddy and itching smile on his face that he actively tries to wipe away, to no avail—“I like cheese, too. I got mac and cheese from the big boy menu, but it was too much food even though it’s my favorite! Do you like cheese, too, Eddie?”

He nods his head, slower than Steve had, and softer. “Yeah,” he says, “my mama used to let me have cheese from the bag.” Eddie snorts. “But it was a secret, so don’t tell anybody, okay?”

Steve clumsily draws an ‘X’ over his chest. “I won’t tell anybody,” he swears. And then he pushes his clamshell container right into Eddie’s face. “You want some of my mac and cheese?! It’s got three different cheeses in it! I didn’t even know there were that many!”

“Um…” Eddie scratches at his arm, looking towards Steve’s dad again. Though, this time, he’s looking away. Still talking angrily with the police, shouting words that take the shape of profanities—the same kind of words that earn him peppers on his tongue—but he’s not staring. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

With no warning, Steve plops down heavily onto the curb, popping the box open with his little hands. Eddie has half a mind to track where his booger-picking finger goes. But he’s hungry, so it nearly doesn’t matter. “We have to eat it with our fingers,” Steve says—shit—“Daddy wouldn’t let me take the spoon. Said it’s un-gentlemanly. I dunno what that means, ‘cause Daddy’s always using words too big for me—sometimes it’s hard to read ‘em and say ‘em, but that’s okay, ’s what my mommy says—but I think the word is a bunch of poop. I liked the spoon, I should’a been able to keep it since my house doesn’t have spoons like this one—It had a big end for soup, but they gave it to me with my food—What d’you think that means, Eddie?”

He sits down next to Steve on the curb. Tucking his knees up to his chest. In a matter of seconds, he’s scooping up a handful of the cheesy macaroni, after Steve draws his hand to the container to do so. “I dunno,” he says.

Steve hums like he agrees. Then—“You’re quiet, which is nice. I like quiet. Tommy is so loud—always laughing and singing and screaming at everybody. And my daddy. Sometimes my mommy. Is your mommy loud?”

Now, this is where things get tricky. Nobody really asks Eddie about his mama anymore. Not about how they used to dance and sing and talk and talk and talk. They don’t ask what her favorite color was—baby green, a sage, he remembers: the color of her nail polish, her hair ties before she lost her hair, and the gemstone on her wedding ring. Or her favorite meal to make, which was always a big pot of chili that she’d invite his uncle over for, and he’d bring the cornbread, and his dad would smile with his eyes and they’d have sodas instead of the sour, bitter canned juice. They don’t want to know why she died or how it got that bad or if he believes whether or not his life would be better if she stuck through it, if she fought with everything. They don’t know that he cries and cries and cries and he seldom talks. There’s not much left without her—he wishes it was all different.

Her funeral was in their local church. And he wore a suit like Steve’s, pressed and prim and proper. He held his uncle’s hand. Said peace, hung heads in prayer, shared stories. And then they went out for Chinese food; the man who owned the shop had her plate made at the end of their lunch—assuming she was at home resting—Eddie had broke open his fortune cookie, which told him to stay happy, and he didn’t have the heart to tell the man what happened. They took the food home anyway, and Eddie let it rot.

“She…uh…she’s dead,” Eddie says, “but, no, she wasn’t very loud.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers, “I’m sorry, Eddie.” There’s a handful of sticky macaroni in his hand, his fingers tense around it. His eyes get impossibly sad. “My Grandpa Otis is, too. I miss him lots.”

“‘M sorry about your grandpa,” Eddie murmurs.

They sit in relative silence at that. Shoulder to shoulder. Eating their macaroni. The patrol car door slams, but Steve’s dad seems to keep dragging out the shouting. He wonders if it��s like this for Steve at home—it wouldn’t surprise him, but it’s hard to figure with how bright this kid is.

“You miss your mommy a lot,” Steve pipes up.

“How’d you know?”

Steve shrugs. “Assumin’,” he says softly, “when Mommy leaves with Daddy, it always makes me sad. I like Mommy, she’s nice to me, and she shouldn’t have to go. Was your mommy nice?”

“The nicest. She liked to give me hugs and hold my hands. Papa doesn’t do that. Says it’s stupid stuff for babies.”

Again, with little warning, Steve is moving. He throws his non-macaroni, yet booger-riddled, arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Bringing him in firm and fast. “I like hugs, too,” Steve murmurs, “Mommy gives me hugs. Not all the time. Sometimes she’s busy. Sometimes she’s gone.” He sighs through his nose, then he rests his head against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie wonders how lonely Steve must feel, hopefully not too much—thinking about it makes something turn sour and hard in Eddie’s stomach. “We should be best friends. So that we can hug all the time. Are you good at hugging?”

He lays his own arm across Steve’s shoulders. The comfort is…nice…and warm. “I think so?”

“Good. We can hug all the time. And we can be happy.” Steve nuzzles into Eddie’s shoulder, his handful of food dropping back into the container—he wipes the cheese from his fingers all over his pristine suit jacket, doing it until it’s completely clean. And then he squeezes his cleaned up hand, wrist, and arm over Eddie’s middle. A true hug. Softly, “If your daddy is in trouble and your mommy is…Who will you go to?”

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie answers. “They said I’m staying with him for a while. They had’ta call him on the restaurant phone. I hope I stay with him forever. I love him lots.”

“I wish I had an uncle,” Steve whispers, “you’re so lucky.”

“I don’t think I’m very”—

“You have an uncle and a nice nickname and your hair is cool and you give good hugs and you like cheese and you’re nice”—Steve sighs—“you’re lucky because you’re Eddie.”

“Well, you’re lucky because you’re Steve.”

“I wanna be your best friend forever. We can see Goose and we can eat cheese from the bag and we can hug and we can talk and talk and talk.” Abruptly, Steve sits back up, looking deep into Eddie’s eyes. “When you go to your uncle’s, will you call my home so that we can set up a play date?”

“I don’t have your”—

Steve pulls away, retrieving a pen from the inside of his jacket. It’s a nice jacket, all things considered, though Eddie didn’t pay too much attention to it, too busy being entranced by Steve’s eyes…something about his face makes Eddie’s tummy feel funny. “Daddy says to always have a pen. I dunno why. I just use it to draw pictures on my arms. He doesn’t like it when I do that. But I don’t care. It’s my pen and I like to draw kitties.” He grabs at Eddie’s arm, bare and exposed from only wearing a t-shirt. Steve’s hands are wonderfully warm. “You’re so cold,” Steve comments. “I wish I had my coat. I’d let you wear it. But I gotta wear my stupid suit. It’s too tight. Your t-shirt is cool, but now you’re cold. And I’m gonna make it all better by drawing a kitty on your arm. What kinda kitty do you like?”

“I like…I like black cats. They’re pretty.”

Smiling, Steve murmurs, “Black cats are very pretty…you’re pretty, too. But don’t tell my daddy I said that…’m s’posed to think only girls are pretty.” The pen clicks and then Steve is pulling completely away.

Eddie’s arm reads a scrawling phone number, messy and nearly illegible. And, indeed, there’s a black cat, too. He gently traces the outline of the cat’s ears with his finger tip, as if he could will it to stay forever—maybe there’s a way he can.

“My daddy is waving me over,” Steve states, something sad around his words. “But we’ll play together one of these days, okay? Here”—he shoves the, now closed, leftovers into Eddie’s hands, forcing them into his lap—“keep the food. I probably won’t finish it. I’m too full. Now you don’t have to steal cars. But…maybe you should steal my daddy’s car again, so that we can talk and talk. ‘Cause I like talkin’ to you. I have to go now, though, but I’ll see you later, okay?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but once more, with no warning, Steve is encroaching Eddie’s space. He hesitates for a moment, as if looking for his dad—or his dad’s furious gaze.

A kiss is then pressed to Eddie’s forehead. It’s sticky and warm and short.

“Bye, Eddie,” Steve whispers, “be safe.” And then he gets up and leaves.

He doesn’t know it yet, but Eddie will cherish this day forever. The food, the suit, the boogered finger, and the little black cat. Though, he will remember this day for one other thing.

The day he fell in love with a boy named Steve.

——— “You should bring that Harrington boy over.”

Eddie startles on the sofa, bent like a shrimp over a mini figure. He hastily drags his magnifying goggles over his mane of curls. They’ll get stuck, probably, but that’s a fight he’ll train for later. Now, though—“Why do you say that, Wayne?”

His uncle shrugs, leaning against the corner wall leading to the kitchenette. He’s ready for work, it looks like, yet his face is slack with exhaustion. “Think it’d be nice for you to have company over here that’s your age. ‘Sides, that boy played a part in saving your life. Don’t you think he should be comin’ ‘round more often? Sure as hell would be better than you spooning macaroni from a pot, bent over one of those little characters of yours.”

“Hey! It’s a hobby, Wayne! It’s not like I’m miserable.”

“Oh give me a break, Eds. You’ve been nose deep in all these damn projects of yours since you got that call about your fuckin’ dad. Sleaze bag gets to breakout and fuck everything up again.” Wayne huffs, his arms crossed over his chest as if his heart is a fallen bird between his palms. “Motherfucker better stay away if he knows what’s good for him.”

They don’t like talking about Eddie’s dad—Wayne’s own brother—not since that day in the restaurant parking lot. It’s weird, he knows, considering that restaurant isn’t even standing anymore, yet the carnage has been spattered in its parking lot. The carnage aside from that boy with the sunshine-y, gap-toothed smile of his. Their playdate had never happened, the phone number had smudged on the way back to Wayne’s—and Eddie had sobbed when it finally disappeared; gone just like his mom, like his dad, like the life he once had.

Living with Wayne has been for the better, though. And he’s right, he should call up Steve. See if he’s busy. If he’s wanting to come over.

It’d do him better than moping around the only place that ever felt like home.

“I’ll call him when you leave, how’s that?” Eddie concedes.

“If you don’t, I’m dragging your stubborn ass all the way to that hideous house of his and making you climb up to his fuckin’ window.”

Eddie scrunches his nose and eyebrows. “Don’t say it like I’m in fucking love with him, Wayne!”

Wayne raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you?”

“I mean, yeah, but I think I’d know”—

“Sure, right. Because writing Mr. Harrington”—he pitches his voice just for that, Eddie resists the urge to roll his eyes—“all over my steno pads is definitely not you falling in love with that kid. I swear, Ed, sometimes you’re more dense and exhausting than a twelve hour shift on Christmas—and that is saying something, considering I’m dead to the world as soon as I walk back in through that front door.” Wayne scoffs and pulls himself off the wall. His arms unfurl from his chest, dangling loose and long at his sides, before he—what Eddie has since known as an eerily similar Steve pose—sets his closed, wound fists on his hips. He’d look like he was scolding from any outside figure, but this is just Wayne. Good old passionate Wayne. He could run for mayor, at least Eddie thinks so, but the last time he suggested it, Wayne had gone to bed early—as if the day of his death had finally caught up to him. He’s still going with, “You’re more full of shit than a port-a-potty. Also, I hope you know, writing that boy’s last name like that makes it look like you’re talking about his vile dad—what’s worse is that it makes me look like I’m in love with good ol’ bag of Dicks.” He strides across the living room, stopping short beside Eddie. He sets a firm hand into the top of Eddie’s hair, shaking around his head until his magnifying goggles come loose and fall right back where they started. Wayne chuckles at it—the laughable sight Eddie must make right now. “Stop being a dumbass, Ed. Just invite the kid over. I know for certain that he’s probably doing fuck all on this shitty Wednesday evening. Considering, especially, that his parents aren’t home.”

“Oh my God, Wayne! Can you just shut the fuck up for a second?” Eddie finally rolls his eyes and completely removes his goggles, tossing them to the coffee table. “I will give him a call! I don’t know how you know about his parents, you fuckin’ weirdo, but if it’ll get you off my back about how lonely I must be, then fine! Fine!”

Wayne grins like the cat who got the cream. “Atta boy.”

Eddie scrubs his hands down his face, pulling exaggeratingly at the skin under his eyes. “Go to work, Jesus H. Christ. You’re gonna give me an aneurysm,” he mutters. When he looks back up at Wayne, he’s still smarmy and proud. “What? Stop looking at me like that…or else I’m gonna get Steve to come over and I’ll suck his dick right over there”—he points at the recliner under the window, Wayne’s recliner—“and force you to sit on this lumpy, sad couch while you watch reruns later. You want that, old man?”

It does exactly what Eddie hoped it would—Wayne’s face finally falls neutral again and all is right in the world. “If you make a mess on my furniture, I swear on everythin’ that I will make you replace it.”

“I’m gonna spill so much shit on your couch when you’re gone,” Eddie snarks. “Just leave a whole abstract painting made of blood, sweat, tears, and other…mediums all over the place.”

“Boy, I did not raise you to be so calloused.”

“No, but you did raise a hard-ass. This is me, being a hard-ass. If you want me to shut it, you’ll leave my hopeless heart twenty feet away from all conversations about Steve.” Eddie rolls his left wrist towards himself, catching the numbers on his watch. “Hm. You’re gonna be late for work if you keep standing here, Wayne.”

Wayne sighs. “You are both the best and most chaotic thing to have ever happened to me. I don’t know how I do it most days.”

Eddie smiles, teeth and all, a menacing shape to his features. “Because you love me.”

“That I do,” Wayne concedes. “But, uh, yeah, invite Steve over. Don’t use the beef in the fridge, I’m thinking of making a meatloaf tomorrow night. And…don’t be a nuisance for Ms. Madison next door, she’s under the assumption that you’re the one putting bugs through her window and if she catches wind of you doing something—oh, I don’t know…annoying as you are prone to do—then she’s gonna come complain and I do not care what she has to say. At least, not tonight.”

“Got it,” Eddie says, “I’ll put extra bugs that I somehow manage to carry in my pockets through her window and I’ll make sure they’re equipped with a speaker playing Metallica’s hits. Really set the stage.”

Another long, heavy sigh emanates from Wayne, but he doesn’t have anything to say. He simply meanders to the front door, slips into his work boots, ties them up all neat and tidy, and promptly lets the screen door hit him on the way out—if the, “Ah, shit,” he yelps is anything to go by.

After a little tidying, and a lot of consideration, Eddie finds his way to the phone on the wall. Sitting down in one of their rickety dining chairs. Dialing Steve’s number.

That’s strange, he notes, this number always looks so familiar.

On the third ring, Steve finally answers. “Hello?” It’s gruff and tired. Like he just—

“Aw, did I wake you up, man?”

“Nah…just…” Steve gives an unwavering, hard sigh. “Finished getting chewed out by my dad. Didn’t even realize he still knows how to use the phone, it’s been so long.”

“Hm. Would it make you feel better if we hung out? I could…uh…pick up a movie and come to yours?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Yeah, that would be…that would be nice. I was about to make some macaroni and cheese, if you wanted some. There’s three cheeses in it. I just needed something that was gonna make me feel better.”

“Well, a guy’s favorite food is definitely going to make him feel better, yeah?” Eddie chuckles just as Steve snorts, too. “You sure you want me to come over?”

“Please, Eds. It’s so fucking quiet over here,” Steve says softly, “I mean, I guess I get the house to myself, but…feels like the novelty ran out a long fucking time ago.”

Eddie’s always wondered how a guy like Steve manages to stay mostly sane in a setting like that. How he manages to not feel as alone…but considering how many people are in his corner now, it’s no wonder that he’s getting by a lot better these days. At least a lot better than what he heard of Steve growing up.

“I’ll be over in, like, fifteen minutes. Just gotta change my shirt—hot weather and all that.”

“Ooo, you gonna show me your big biceps?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, big boy?” Eddie tries to snark, but—

Steve goes eerily quiet on his end for a long moment. Worried that Eddie overstepped, he goes to correct himself, then—“Of course I would, Eds. You’re pretty and I think you know that.”

“I’ve been told once or twice, yeah. Doesn’t rival to you, I’m sure”—

“Oh just shut up and come make me feel better. Just having you over here would be the highlight of my day, your good looks are a bonus.”

“You’re certainly feeling flirty today.”

“Maybe I just want to flirt with you, you ever thought of that?”

“If you’re being serious, I could turn it up a few notches.”

“You could kiss me and make me feel better.”

“Yeah?” Eddie reaches for a strand of his hair, curling it tight around his finger until his knuckles pop. “I could do that.”

Steve’s voice is finally bright and energetic when he responds with, “Really? That worked on you? I thought I’d have to keep sending you subliminal messages until the day I died.”

“Hey! I’m very observe—wait! What do you mean messages? Have I been missing”—

“Okay, come over, bye!”

And then the dial tone screeches out.

Screw Steve and his stupid pretty face, for leaving Eddie on such a cliffhanger. Even his own novels couldn’t rival something like this. It’s enough, though, to have him scrambling around the trailer—putting all his mini-figures away, changing his Hellfire shirt for a muscle tank, and throwing his hair up so it’s out of his face on the drive over.

While he did say he’d be over in fifteen, it’s realistically ten with how fast he tears through stop signs. Not that Steve needs to know that. He’d have a cow if he realized how reckless Eddie was being to get over here.

Especially considering Steve worked damn hard to keep Eddie’s heart beating.

It’s another odd thing in a sea of odd. This isn’t the first time somebody named Steve even gave Eddie’s heart purpose. Something tangible and willing to hold onto.

Not that the little boy from almost fifteen years ago needs to know. Hell, Eddie’s not even sure if that kid still lives in Hawkins. If he does, he’s well older now. Hopefully still as sweet, if his parents didn’t muck around. It’d be a bitter thing, finding out if that kid suffered more in breathable silences than he did on the surface of what Eddie saw and heard.

That kid had a lot to say, though. And Eddie, contrary to now, would’ve rather been quiet.

When Steve finally opens the front door to his place, he’s as exasperated as Eddie’s heart feels. “Did you even stop on the way over here? I’m not gonna kiss you at all unless you tell me you were marginally safe.”

“I was buckled. And had both hands on the wheel. Can’t do any better than that.”

“Eddie.”

“What? I was excited! You can’t tell a dog to stay down when they’re excited!”

Steve levels him with a questioning stare. “You’re the dog in this scenario?”

“I’ve got puppy eyes! So, yeah, I think I’m objectively the dog.” He crosses his arms over his chest, biceps flexing with the movement. Steve’s eyes dart to his left bicep, something like pride sweeps over Eddie. There’s a different thing that flashes over Steve’s face, then, a lot like shock—belated surprise at what he sees. “Well, with how you’re trackin’ me right now, I’d say that maybe I’m the bone, and you’re the dog.”

Abruptly, Steve pulls Eddie inside, hands flexing around Eddie’s left bicep. The door slams shut behind them. And then Steve is just ogling the chicken scratch tattoo on Eddie’s arm. “Where’d you get this drawing?” Steve asks, tapping on the tattoo.

Eddie stares down at his arm, twisting it in Steve’s grip.

The tattoo in question is a simple black cat. Some little thing he had Wayne take a photo of, what felt like, eons ago. That kid had a lot more impact on Eddie than he probably realized—why not hold him forever in a way that matters…through art, of course. First loves and all that, people who change the perspective on a life that had felt so hopeless. It was a lesser known tattoo, one he wasn’t freely waving around. It didn’t match his hard exterior, not that he had much of a chiseled outside as he thought he did.

Honestly, he thought he could get by with nobody seeing the black cat. Just one of those little shitty pieces that no one wants to pay attention to, especially when he’s got so many other tattoos that take the cake. The bats may have been taken by those other-worldly bats. But the puppet on strings and the skull head and the spider all remained. Those ones people were drawn to.

He figured Steve would be the same. Ogling Eddie’s puppet with questions on what it means, what it represents. Why the hell would a cat catch his eye, though? As far as he knows, Steve’s a dog person through and through. He whines constantly about wanting his own little lap dog to cuddle up with and he loathes the way cats ignore him.

“It’s just a drawing,” Eddie says, “some kid drew it on my arm years and years ago.” He swallows hard, muscles spasming around his words as Steve’s finger begin to gently trace the cat’s ears. “It was the same night my dad went to jail. When I started living with Wayne. Kid was so nice to me. He tried to give me his phone number, but…it smeared away. I never did see him again. But he sorta made that night worth it.”

The reverence in Steve’s touch is enough to make Eddie weak. But he was already a weak, weak man. Every part of Steve makes him weak—in the knees, in the stomach, in the heart. He’s pumping enough blood at the sight of Steve alone that he may just die—can you do that? Die from too much love?

Steve’s face makes Eddie’s stomach flip, though. His droopy eyes. Equally droopy hair. The moles, the smile, the way his scruff grows in patchy before it becomes uniform.

“What else do you remember about that night?” Steve then asks. His voice is soft, softer than Eddie’s ever heard it. He doesn’t take his eyes away from Eddie’s tattoo, but there’s a small grin on his face. Almost like he’s welcoming in the cat as his own, a cat he hasn’t seen in forever.

“Umm…he had macaroni and cheese. We ate with our hands because his dad wouldn’t let him keep the spoon. There was this suit he was wearing. He wiped his cheesy hand on it. He also picked his nose, I watched him do it—I thought it was gross.” Eddie chuckles at the memory. How cautious he had been about where that kid’s fingers were going while they ate. “And he hugged me…he…he kissed me on the forehead before he said goodbye to me.”

The hands on Eddie’s bicep travel down slowly to his left hand, holding and squeezing it in place. Then, without warning, Steve drags them upstairs to his bedroom. He shoves them inside quickly, with little to no care. And then he begins rummaging through the back of his closet.

“What’re you”—

Something is tossed at Eddie.

It’s fabric, starchy, and wrinkled. He flicks it with his wrists to get the full image of what he’s been given. It’s a suit. A tiny suit. With a giant patch of orange-yellow crusted sauce on the left side, where, when Eddie turns it to closer inspect, it looks like finger tracks have made themselves home.

“We talked about your mom,” Steve murmurs, “about how she was nice. She let you eat shredded cheese out of the bag. And my nana had a cat named Goose. You told me you liked cats, you thought black cats were pretty.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at the fabric, what he’s hearing. “That was you,” he whispers.

“Yeah…yeah, that was me.” Steve stands behind the suit, where it’s being held up in the air. Eddie lowers it to better look at him. “I…I told you about my dad. About how he”—

“He’s mean and scary. Threatens you with that stupid spoon. You were worried it’d happen that night.” Eddie swallows hard. “I never forgave myself for that,” he speaks quietly, “you were so nice that night. You gave me your leftover dinner. And I…I was there to steal your dad’s car with my dumb dad. But you sounded so…so scared when you were telling me about when your dad gets angry. And he was…god, he was really angry that night.”

Steve’s gaze has fallen to the floor. His hands twisted in front of him in a nervous knot. “It happened all the time, it’s not your fault. It’s just who he was.” He goes to try and mend that ugly of a statement, but—“I waited for you to call me. So that I could play with you. Or so that we could…could…I don’t know, really, I just wanted to be your friend or…or something. I thought you were so pretty. Your eyes were huge and shiny and I could see your ears, they didn’t quite fit the shape of your head yet, but they were so cute. And your voice was so quiet. Your giggle was so raspy, so small, I wanted to hear it all the time. I prayed I’d hear it on the phone, y’know, like maybe I could get my tape recorder and hold it up to the speaker.”

He shuffles side to side on his feet, scrunches the fabric of the suit jacket in his hands. “I’m sorry I never called”—

“Did you get to stay with Wayne? Or did you have to go back to”—

“No, no…I stayed with Wayne. My home’s been with him for years.”

Steve gives an enthusiastic, yet slow nod. “I’m really glad you got to where you were supposed to.”

“Yeah, Wayne’s been”—

“No, back with me,” Steve murmurs. He quirks a small smile, teeth and all. There isn’t a gap between them anymore and his fang grew back in. But it’s still a dorkishly sweet smile. “Now we have all the time in the world with each other. And…and you got my cat drawing as a tattoo…you’re so cool, Eddie.”

“Funny, I feel like I’ve heard that before,” he gently teases. “I’m honestly shocked you recognize the drawing. It’s been so long.”

“Not too long, though.” Steve steps closer, getting into Eddie’s personal bubble. He takes the suit back, when Eddie relents his grip on it, and then tosses it over the back of his desk chair. Then, he places his hands—shaky, they are—on either side of Eddie’s face. They aren’t small hands anymore, bigger than he could’ve figured. His palms are calloused, but not cruelly. And his face, so darling, so open, and oh so honey-sweet. “My dad told me that I was only supposed to think girls are pretty,” Steve whispers, “but I could never get your face out of my head. I don’t know if you’ll ever truly know how much I wanted to hold you that night.”

Eddie matches his volume. “Tell me?”

“Forever,” he answers immediately, “I wanted us to be happy.” His thumbs make little circles in Eddie’s soft cheeks. Gentle. Reverent. “Do you think we’re allowed to be happy now?”

“We can be whatever we want, Stevie.” He places his hands on Steve’s waist. Be steady. “And we can do whatever we want now. Nobody is here to stop us.”

Steve’s eyes bounce. They’re half-lidded and shiny. But, mostly—

Happy.

Quietly, “Kisses really do make me feel better,” Steve says, “will you kiss me now?”

And who is he to deny them this gentle pleasure?

He leans in, slow and hesitant just as Steve did all those years ago. Their breaths puffs against each other, mingling. Steve closes his eyes first, expectant. And when Eddie closes the gap, he knew he made the right decision to let himself fall in love—all those years ago, even when he didn’t have the language, the understanding, the momentum of crushes entering and exiting his life like revolving casts; there was always something there, though, about Steve. Something fragile and unearthed, yet just as necessary as breathing.

There had been a lot of unnecessary pain before Steve. Lots of what-ifs and whens and hows. Unknowns that took ruling over his life—when that next meal was going to be, where the money would come from, if he’d be learning a lesson for not holding the flashlight still enough.

And then there had been the sharp in and out of the needle going through his skin as he marked himself with the only remnants of a boy lost to time he had. Never to expect an outcome or an ever-after; not like those fairytales his mama would read to him; not like the sure tell that he’d be hugged at the front door by his mama’s arms.

This kiss is warm, soft, delicate between them. It’s the curtains pushed aside for the sun to pour in like lemonade and quench the room in light, in summer, in smiles. A million eyelashes on the cheeks and wispy wishes blown from the pale fingertips of summers spent with Wayne. Canned jam on early morning toast, a pot of coffee burbling, knowing he made it out alive in time to graduate—to unearth greatness from the soul in the aftermath of so much bad. This kiss is, in metaphor, a lot like coming home.

To forever with little boundaries, clouds taking the shape of smears above them, nothing to define them. Because black cats are pretty, and Steve thinks of Eddie the same.

Because there’s good, nestled and dormant, in the bad.

He had been looking to Steve a lot in the Upside Down—as if there was a pull, a need to do so. Steve was the safety, the calm within calamity, and actually a good dude; case in point, good within the bad.

Steve resuscitated Eddie twice.

And kissing him feels like the third.

When he pulls back and opens his eyes, Steve is smiling quietly to himself, eyelids shut against his flushed face. His eyelashes spread wide, fanned. Eddie could make wishes from his eyeballs and be none the wiser, he’s got his hands on the everything else he needed. What more could he want?

“You can look at me, pretty boy,” Eddie whispers.

Steve chuckles, but does what he’s told. “I was worried I’d be six years old again,” he murmurs, “waiting by the phone.”

“Well, you don’t have to do that anymore, do you?”

“Hehe”—yes, Steve actually giggles at him when he asks. “Yeah, I guess I don’t.” His smile, the rosiness of his cheeks, the squint to his eyes—it makes him look drunk; tipsy with pride.

“You feelin’ better?”

“Peachy,” Steve answers. “And you?”

“Feel like I never have to steal anything again. Like a million bucks, baby. Rich.”

Steve leans again, noses against Eddie’s. Whispers, “I’ve got macaroni and cheese downstairs. You wanna eat it with our hands?”

“As long as you don’t pick your nose anymore,” Eddie returns at the same volume.

“I don’t, but…I’ve also got those soup spoons finally. You wanna do that?”

Eddie’s hands tighten over Steve’s waist. “Sure, yeah…yeah, okay.”

“Good.” And then Steve pulls away, gliding back to the door to head downstairs.

Except—

“Hey, Steve?”

Steve looks back. And he’s shrouded by the warm, yellow light from the hallway. There’s a smile on his face. He’s not exasperated or tired or afraid. Just…just happy. Eddie’s sure he matches.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Eddie murmurs, “like…half-way there.”

“Yeah?” Eddie simply nods his head. “I think I’m half-way there, too.”

It started like a horror movie in the dark, yet it ends…

It ends romantically in the light, in warmth.

On the day he fell impossibly more in love with Steve.

🫂—————🫂

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #different first meeting #angst and hurt/comfort #happy ending

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forsworned · 1 year ago

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I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY'S WATCHING ME ft. LOGAN WALKER

Warning(s): Sexual Content, Solo Sex (f.), Usage of Sex Toys, Voyeurism, AFAB!reader,

Author's note: @keegansshark because you inspired me!!!!

Being the Walker brother's third roommate is awfully quiet. In fact, half of your time here is spent apologizing about any ruckus you might be causing them whether it be your music, the loud clattering in the kitchen, or having a friend or two over. But they insist that it's fine. Giving you grand, boyish, heartthrob smiles that make you melt like a popsicle on a hot pavement.

Unlike Logan, Hesh is more outgoing, and talkative, and not staring you down from across the room when you're attempting to complete your work. He's asking you about your day, telling you to tag along with him and his brother when they go gyming and somehow is always sitting on the opposite end of the table when you're going out to eat, leaving you next to Logan every time.

And sometimes there's a sneaky, mischievous glance sent Logan's way followed by a pained expression that's stifled with laughter on his older's brother face.

But that was neither here nor there. However, upon finding out that the Walker brothers were going to spend the weekend out camping, you took it as an opportunity to be as noisy as you wanted. As much as you adored them, you felt relieved not having to walk on eggshells around them when it came to your sonorousness.

A deep exhale leaves your chest as your body hits your mattress. It had been a long week and you wanted nothing more than to unwind. Unfortunately, you didn't have a boyfriend to fuck your brains out so you settle for the vibrator in your locked drawer. You fish out the keys from your pocket and unlatch it. It wasn't a stellar collection of sex toys, more like just the essentials.

You decide upon your favorite, old reliable, first Eve's thruster and tug off your shorts and panties, tossing them carelessly to the side of your bed. It's a little depressing that you have to resort to such methods, but it was going to be a long weekend, so what better way to start it off then with some solo sex?

You turn it in and slowly work yourself up and the image of Logan flits into your mind. How good he would feel between your legs right now, filling you up with his cock and gazing down at you with those pretty hazel eyes of his. It's hardly been a few minutes before you feel yourself sopping at the mere notion of him touching you, and you're sliding the vibrator past your folds imagining that it's him inside of you.

His name spills from your lips over and over again, so sticky sweet, and delectable to the ears of any man if they had the pleasure of listening in on you.

So luckily for Logan, he's back at the apartment complex, fumbling with his keys to unlock the door after Hesh had forgotten to pack propane fuel. It isn't a huge deal, certainly not enough to sour his mood. An earnest mistake that Logan is more than willing to make up for for his older brother.

Too entranced by your own euphoria, you don't hear the door unlocking, nor it opening and the footsteps that follow, but Logan certainly hears your wanton breathy moans, reverberating into the hallways leading to the living room. He halts dead in his tracks and he's pondering about how he should approach the situation. He's thinking that maybe you happen to be watching a movie with a sex scene and it will pass at any moment. But it's past five minutes now and he's thinking otherwise.

His heart thuds against his chest as he stands there completely paralyzed, but his body isn't the only rigid thing. If it weren't obvious to you yet, Logan had a raging crush on you, and Hesh would be happy to take any opportunity to tease him about it. So the sound of you moaning is definitely getting him riled up. His eyes dart to the propane that sat on the kitchen island where stupid Hesh had left it and he's quietly making his way over to grab it and leave without alerting you, but then he hears you calling out his name. And then, again, and again and again.

As each passing second ticks by, the urgency in your whimpers intensifies, and Logan's legs seem to act autonomously, losing sight of their original purpose. He silently stalks to the ajar door of your bedroom and his eyes ream at your sopping, wet pussy out for display, hammering away at it with your hot pink, dildo that's thrusting into you. You're throwing your head back in pure rapture and his dick fully bricked up on sight. His Adam's apple bobs up and down, swallowing thickly as he absentmindedly palms at his dick.

It's so fucking wrong. And he's so aware of that, but it doesn't stop him from burning the image of you getting yourself off to him in his mind. His desire to step into the room is magnifying by the minute, but he holds himself back. The way your mouth is parting as you reach your climax is so, so, so delicious. The salacious sighs that escape you drive him wild and honestly, he could cum right now. It wouldn't even take long. One touch from that pretty mouth of yours and he would be coloring you a pretty, ivory white.

And just when you're about to orgasm, the creak of your door jostles you, stopping you mid-thrust and you could almost die when you see Logan's form leaning against the doorway. The blood drains from your face as you take in his unbuttoned jeans, undone zipper, and his hand slipping into his boxers. His hazel eyes might just be as wide as yours and the embarrassing sound of your machine is still going off and you practically rip it out of you, but your unexpected orgasm reels you in for a moment. It halts you as your bach archs and you gasp out in a fervent daze. It's humiliating as you gawk at your pulsating, drenched pussy in horror and you're scrambling to get up and somehow apologize??? But by the time you can even catch your breath to pull on your shorts, you hear the front door slam.

You make a dash for the window to see, Logan climb into Hesh's truck and they seem to be having a brief conversation before they're back on the road. The blood is rushing to your face as you watch them pull away. Oh God. What were you going to do!?

#call of duty #call of duty imagines #call of duty x reader #logan walker #logan walker x reader #walker brothers #cod x you #cod ghosts #cod smut #logan walker smut #x reader #x female reader #logan walker cod #call of duty ghosts #call of duty smut

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a-bottle-of-tyelenol · 4 months ago

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Not sure how to properly word this, but I find it really interesting how EPIC!Odysseus subtly equates himself to being among gods, particularly when it comes to empathizing with EPIC!Eurylochus.

In Luck Runs Out, Odysseus specifically tells Eurylochus, “I need you to always be devout and comply with this or we’ll all die in this.” and I find that particularly interesting because “devout” is most often used in relation to religion and belief, as is the structure of complying with the words of a god because death is the only other option. And he does this right after he announces to the world that he is “neither man nor mythical” which inherently puts himself above his men.

Odysseus has moments of hubris, absolutely, but a lot of his more outwardly notable moments of arrogance are replaced with scenes that prefer to highlight his grief and humanity instead (specifically, I think of when he announces his name to the cyclops). It feels like, to me, a lot of Odysseus’ arrogance in EPIC is less straightforward. It’s not him galavanting about how he bested someone, it’s more about how he holds himself and his status above others. That isn’t to say it no longer exists— quite the contrary, actually. Odysseus is objectively selfish, as is Eurylochus and the crew, but just like in the Odyssey, his hubris is absolutely his undoing; it just looks a little different here.

“I took 600 men to war and not one of them died there, in case I needed to remind you.” is a moment where, yes the praise is deserved, but I think it’s a good one to showcase where he subtly uses his own capabilities as a way to diminish the concerns of his crew. It’s important to remember that Odysseus was Athena’s favorite and there are many situations in OG source material where she either saves his life or gives him a leg-up on the competition that he otherwise wouldn’t have had, even in something as benign as a race or game. Odysseus absolutely deserves credit, as he is still very intelligent and Athena picked him for a reason, but I have no doubt in my mind that she was a large reason for why he was even able to accomplish such a feat in the first place. And yet, he attributes it solely to himself here.

Now, it’s pretty evident that the crew are largely unaware of Athena’s interference so I’m not bringing this up to say the crew would side-eye this. I mostly bring it up because of the fact that Odysseus did it at all and how it adds to a reoccurring theme of Odysseus insisting that he is a man while also likening himself as a god. Odysseus’ mantra of being “just a man” is largely not meant to be entirely literal and is supposed to represent his guilt, remorse, empathy, and love— characteristics that are mostly attributed to humanity— but I still think this goes hand in hand with Odysseus as a character wanting to have his cake and eat it too.

You can see this a lot in how Odysseus approaches the gods. In my interpretation, he thinks of himself on some kind of equal terms as them— he thinks that he can win Aelous’ game, he thinks he can outsmart Poseidon, he thinks that he can handle Circe, and he thinks he can argue back with Athena and directly disrespect her because they are equals— friends. Honestly, the only time he doesn’t really do this is in the beginning with Zeus and Astyanax, which is interesting because it is also his interaction with Zeus in Thunderbringer that seems to stop this mindset all-together (I don’t personally think that Odysseus believes himself to be equals with Poseidon in GitW and SHS, which is largely why I believe he won, but that’s a topic for another day).

(Also, outside of the story, you see it in how Jay gives him electric guitar (electronic music is associated with magic), waited like eight songs for the first time we hear Odysseus’ name (a decision similar to how we never actually hear ‘Zeus’ and is even highlighted by the way that he reveals Athena’s identity in Warrior of the Mind and not his own), and how he has a song with his name (just like the monsters do). This isn’t super relevant, I just think it’s interesting.)

Anyways, regardless of how right he is about these things (because, admittedly, he often is), it says a lot about him and how he perceives the situation he’s in that he can think these things at all.

Something else that’s interesting to note: likening yourself to a god, even indirectly, is really bad culturally. The gods find it disrespectful and that’s why you see a lot of myths or moments about people being punished for saying that they’re as or more beautiful than Aphrodite, as or more strong than Ares, as or more smart than Athena. In the Odyssey, Telemachus visits someone’s palace (I think it was Menelaus but ngl I don’t remember) and he whispers about how it must be what the palace of the gods looks like because of how glorious it is and he is immediately corrected because doing something like that is really bad and is usually/always seen as disrespectful to the gods.

Which brings me back to Eurylochus, a regular guy who has the experiences of someone without divine blood or intervention and also watches as his captain and king, even indirectly, puts himself on a level where he does not belong. Odysseus, as incredible as he is, is not nearly as divine as he makes himself out to be. He’s the great-grandson of Hermes— not the son, not even the grandson, the great-grandson— and he is the king of Ithaca, a small island that isn’t actually all that wealthy. In Ancient Greece standards, he’s not hot shit enough to warrant this belief, and Eurylochus knows that.

Obviously, Athena’s mentorship does change things a bit, but I wonder how much of Odysseus’ inherent belief that he is above his fellow man leaked into his behaviors. How obvious was it to Eurylochus, to his crew? How do you go from seeing someone like Achilles or Sarpedon with direct links to godhood that fell despite their parentage, and someone like Odysseus, who is touched by the divine but not even half as close as the others? How do you watch them fall and then see Odysseus continuously getting too close to the very things that have killed so many heroes before?

It isn’t just that Eurylochus is a normal man— it’s the fact that he views Odysseus as one as well, and Odysseus’ actions, despite what he continually insists throughout the show, do not portray that of a normal man. Normal men do not ask for direct help from a being that does not care whether they live or die. Normal men do not face off against fucking Poseidon without backing down. Normal men do not charge in against a sea witch without any aid and expect to win. Normal men do not get to make the decisions of fate— of who lives and dies— and remain blameless.

Odysseus told him to listen, yes, but he also put himself on to a pedestal that his crew had no way of knowing was true. To them, he was a regular man doing things that would have gotten regular men killed— and it did, it just wasn’t Odysseus who died because of it.

#‘I am neither man nor mythical’ is genuinely my favorite lyric in the entire show #and it really does set the stage for my entire interpretation of odysseus #idk if this makes sense to anyone but I think about this every time I listen to luck runs out and I wanted to share #this isn’t ody hate btw I love him sm I just think he’s complicated #it’s all my interp! it’s fine if u disagree #my post #epic #epic the musical #epic odysseus #epic eurylochus #epic analysis #jorge rivera herrans

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smileysuh · 7 months ago

Text

fuck your ex

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”

tw/cw. Protected sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, hand job, dry humping, grinding, foreplay, threesome, bathroom sex, using a shower head as a vibrator, multiple sex scenes, multiple reader orgasms, slight cum kink, Cheol cum’s on reader’s chest, size kink, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.3k

🍭 aus. Non idol au, cop au, poly au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know cops are a touchy subject, but I've had this idea for months, and I figured it's fan fiction so hopefully it's just a fun au :)

Prologue

You’re so busy blasting nostalgic break-up music that you’re not paying attention to how fast you’re driving down the speedway. The loud Kelly Clarkson song drowns out your sorrows, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of the siren when a Police car lights up behind you.

“Fuck!” you scream, immediately turning down your stereo and pulling over onto the shoulder of the road.

Your heart is racing in your chest- being pulled over isn’t something you’re used to, and you fumble to roll your window down while two cops exit their vehicle and approach.

You wipe at your eyes, which are tearing up again, and you reach for your purse to pull out your license.

The man standing next to your window leans down to look at you, and you try to flash him a smile. His expression is cold, blank even. “Do you know how fast you were going?” he asks.

Now, your heart sinks. It’s such a direct question, and for some reason it makes you snap. You can feel tears begin to roll down your cheeks, your skin heating in embarrassment at having been caught doing something wrong.

“Officer- I’m so sorry, I don’t know how fast I was going- I just broke up with my stupid ex-boyfriend, and I was listening to some breakup music to distract myself from how I’m feeling, and I wasn’t paying attention-”

The second cop pulls up to your window, and the two of them exchange a glance while you cry and blab your reasoning behind doing something wrong.

“Are you headed home?” the second officer, whose nametag reads ‘KIM’, asks.

“Yeah, I just went to get a bottle of wine, and now I’m going home to drink and watch movies and cry myself to sleep,” you admit, voice shaky.

“Have you had anything to drink tonight?”

“No, sir.”

The first officer, ‘CHOI’, sighs, and you see him scan the surrounding freeway. “We’re going to let you off with a warning,” he says finally. “It’s late, there’s hardly anyone driving right now- you were doing the wrong thing by speeding, but it sounds like your day is already pretty shit as it is.”

“Really?” You blink up at him, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “No ticket?”

“No ticket,” Choi confirms. “But don’t get caught doing this sort of thing again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good luck with your wine and your movies,” Kim nods, and with that, the two officers go back to their vehicle.

You wait patiently, watching them in your rear-view mirror as they pull out and drive past you. Only then do you release a deep breath.

One

“Oops!” You let out a squeak as you turn from the bartop and nearly run straight into someone. Your drink sloshes over the edge of your glass, coating your fingers in fruity liquid.

“My bad,” the tall man immediately apologizes, steadying you with a hand on your hip.

Your eyes meet, and your heart leaps into your throat. It’s not common to see men who are this attractive out and at bars-

“Wait, have we met before?” he asks, brows furrowing in confusion.

“I’d remember if we had,” you retort quickly.

The man cocks his head to the side, and after a moment of studying you, his face lights up. “Wait, I remember! You’re that chick we caught speeding two or three months back! The one who’d just had a breakup!”

Your eyes widen as the memory washes over you. As you look up at this tall man, you realize he’s right. You hadn’t recognized him at first, without his officer hat and uniform he looks much more boyish.

“I’m Mingyu,” the large man says, holding out a hand. Without a second thought, you shake it, which is when you remember your skin is still sticky from your spilled drink.

“Shit, sorry-” you apologize.

Mingyu only laughs. “You’re still a bit of a hot mess, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” you agree with a sigh.

“Are you here with people?” he asks next, looking around.

“Waiting on some friends.”

“Want to come join me and Cheol for a bit while you wait?”

“I really couldn’t-” you try to side step the question, but Mingyu insists, and soon, you find yourself seated at a table with the two sexy cops who had let you off with a warning three months ago.

“This is the chick who was speeding, the Kelly Clarkson break-up one,” Mingyu introduces you to his buddy, and you watch recognition blossom over his face.

“Y/N,” you correct, swallowing thickly. “My name is Y/N.”

“Seungcheol,” the stoic cop says, introducing himself. “How’ve you been?”

“Better than that night,” you admit, feeling a little off that they’re so interested in you.

“You’d be surprised how often we pull over girls for speeding after rough breakups,” Mingyu tells you, easing your anxiety a bit. “It must have been a pretty shitty split to have been driving the way you were.”

“It was bad,” you admit with a frown. “In fact… I still don’t think I’m fully over it.”

You’re not sure what’s come over you, what’s bewitched you to the point where you’re divulging your personal secrets to two strangers, and cops no less-

“Fuck your ex,” Seungcheol grunts, taking a sip of his beer.

Mingyu nods. “Fuck your ex.”

You swallow thickly, lifting your drink. “Fuck my ex.”

You wish your voice sounded more confident, but Mingyu flashes you a smile regardless, clinking his beer to your cocktail.

Your shoulders relax a little as you sip on your drink, and Mingyu begins asking you very surface-level questions. It’s clear he’s doing his best to make you feel welcome while you wait for your friends, who arrive after about fifteen minutes of chat.

“Well, my girls are here,” you announce.

“Shame, we were enjoying your company,” Seungcheol muses, and his words make your skin heat. He’s quiet, or at least, not as much of a talker as Mingyu is-

“Hey listen,” Mingyu distracts you, pulling out a pen and paper, where he begins to scribble a few numbers, “you know what they say, the best cure to get over someone is to get under someone else. If you ever need one of us, or both, shoot us a text or something.”

You’re in complete shock as he hands you the slip of paper, wherein two phone numbers and names are written.

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, looking between the men, “is this kind of behavior allowed from cops?”

Mingyu flashes you a wink. “We’re off duty.”

Two

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit, opening the door to your apartment, allowing Mingyu inside.

He only chuckles, pulling you into a hug. You let out a breath, relaxing against his chest. Once you feel a little more settled he releases you, pinching your cheek gently, in a shockingly affectionate way. “You’re getting over your ex,” Mingyu says softly. “Everyone needs to take that step sometime, I’m just glad you reached out to me instead of some tinder dick head.”

“Yeah, cuz a cop is so much better than some online random,” you roll your eyes.

“I’m definitely better than some online random,” he agrees.

“This isn’t very cop like of you,” you point out, watching Mingyu remove his jacket.

“I’m not just my profession,” Mingyu says smoothly. “I’m a hot blooded male, and you’re a cute girl who needs some rescuing.”

You cock a brow, amused. “Rescuing?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’re going to rescue me with what? Your cock?” You’re giggling already, and Mingyu joins in.

“Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”

You can’t help yourself, you lean forward, going on your tiptoes to press your lips to Mingyu’s. He kisses you back immediately, cupping your cheek with one large hand. It’s a gentle kiss, the kind of kiss that tells you you’re safe, and you realize how right Mingyu is- maybe you just needed a companion, someone to distract you from how lonely single nights can be.

Even so, the two of you make your way to your bedroom, and you find yourself shockingly shy as you invite Mingyu into your bed.

You’re in comfy clothes, but Mingyu isn’t, and he toys with the hem of his shirt as you get under your covers. “Should I take this off?” he asks.

“Whatever you want,” you agree, watching him carefully.

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explains.

“It won’t,” you tell him, in fact, you’re curious as to what he looks like under his shirt.

A minute later, you’re rewarded by getting a full view of Mingyu’s beautiful body. He’s all muscle, but it’s not the kind of muscle you gain just in a gym. No, Mingyu has a work hardened physique, what some might identify as practical muscle, and it’s clear he doesn’t skimp on food either. He’s perfectly built, you decide, as he gets into bed next to you, immediately pulling you to his broad chest.

You release a deep breath, one you didn’t know you’d been holding.

A large hand strokes along your back, and Mingyu gives you space to just be quiet and enjoy his presence.

Finally, though, you get to the point where you can’t contain yourself any longer. You look up at him, and Mingyu mirrors the motion. It’s like he can already read you, and you wonder if that’s due to him having a lot of experience with girls, or psychological cue reading as a cop. Either way, he leans down to kiss you, and you melt into it, letting out a pleased groan.

Mingyu returns the sound with one of his own, his tongue gliding across your lip. You open up for him, shifting so you’re half on his chest while the kiss deepens. Mingyu’s hands find your waist, and he pulls you fully on top of him, your knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips.

It’s been so long since you kissed someone, but your body easily picks up the natural instinct again. Mingyu is just so sexy- in no time at all, you’re wriggling on top of him, eager for stimulus against your already aching core.

You find yourself completely relaxed, but completely on edge at the same time. It’s an odd contrast. Mingyu makes you feel comfortable, without fear, and yet- he also sets you on fire in the best of ways. Each touch is like electric shivers across your body, and you can’t help the way you’re moaning from just a bit of kissing and dry humping.

“Wait,” Mingyu’s voice makes you stop, and you pull away, looking down at him with confusion. “I think- before we fuck or anything, I think you should let me eat you out. I bet you’re tired of toys and fingers, and I want tonight to be about making you feel good.”

He’s literally prince charming. Like- how did you ever find this sexy giver.

You swallow thickly. “We can do that.”

Mingyu kisses you again, and then he rolls on top of you, pinning you to the bed. You love the way his hands skim across your body, teasing across your waist and ribcage.

“Can I take your clothes off?” he asks.

“Maybe… uh… maybe just my pants for now?” You’re not sure why you want to leave your shirt on, but that’s the boundary you’re comfortable with right now, and Mingyu doesn’t question it. He presses another kiss to your lips before sliding down you form, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants to drag them down your body.

The large man adjusts between your legs, peppering your newly exposed skin in soft kisses.

Your core is throbbing in your panties, and you bite your lip when his breath fans across your pussy.

“These off next?” he asks, looking up at you.

“Yeah.” The word comes out a whisper, your body tight with suspense.

Mingyu pulls your panties down slowly, and the cool air of the room on your exposed core makes you twitch.

Large hands smooth up your calves and thighs, and Mingyu’s eyes meet yours as he closes the distance to your pussy. You hold your breath, waiting-

The first lick of your clit makes your toes curl, and you moan deeply, earning a smile from the man who’s clearly intent on devouring you.

“I kind of like being told what to do,” Mingyu explains, kissing your inner thigh. “So if you have anything you want me to do, just say something.”

“I will,” you promise, shifting your hips to get your core closer to his face again.

Mingyu takes the motion as a direction in and of itself, and he immediately puts his mouth back on you, but this time, it’s not a kitten lick. There’s no hesitation now, it’s clear you want this, and Mingyu dives in, pressing his tongue into your core.

You groan, thighs already shaking at how good it feels.

Your hands reach down, tangling in his soft hair, and Mingyu releases a moan of his own. The vibration from it goes straight to your clit, and you whimper.

“You’re good at this,” you tell him, doing your best to be verbal, as it’s pretty clear Mingyu’s a verbal sex kind of guy.

He rewards your words by sucking his lips around your clit, flicking at it with his tongue.

“Can you…” you shift slightly, “your fingers-”

Mingyu adjusts, focusing on your clit with his mouth while a finger strokes between your pussy lips. He eases it into your wet core slowly, being gentle with you while ravaging your sensitive bud.

Your eyes close at the feeling, your head thrown back against your pillows. “That’s good-” you tell him, groaning when he slips a second digit into your pussy.

You can feel him smile against your clit, working his fingers up toward your gspot with each calculated thrust.

You’re supposed to be using Mingyu to get over your ex, but you can’t help the way you compare them- how had you ever thought sex with your ex was good? He’d never eaten you out like this- never prioritized your pleasure- fuck, you haven’t even had sex with Mingyu yet, and you’re already convinced it’s going to be mind blowing.

Releasing a breath, you focus on Mingyu, focus on the feeling building deep in your core.

One thrust has Mingyu’s fingers hitting the exact right spot, and you let out a squeal of delight. “Right there- fuck- right there!”

Mingyu does as he’s told, repeatedly hitting the spot that draws you closer to your orgasm with record speed. His mouth on your clit is also pure pleasure, and before you even know it, you’re releasing a groan. “I’m gonna cum, fuck- don’t stop, please-”

Your words break off as your high slams into you, moans of ecstasy escaping as your body surges with pleasure. Your pussy is pulsing deliciously around Mingyu’s fingers and he works you through your orgasm like an absolute champ. He’s unrelenting, fully focused on drawing out your pleasure until you’re practically shaking.

Mingyu pulls away, and you let out a shaky gasp, opening your eyes to look down at the gorgeous man. His expression is one of pure lust, and you watch him wipe his mouth with the back of his palm.

“You taste like peaches, baby,” he tells you, straightening onto his knees at the foot of your bed.

You don’t say anything, you only motion for Mingyu to come closer, and you grab the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

He moans into the kiss, and you writhe beneath him, hooking your leg over his hip.

Mingyu begins to grind down against you, and you can feel how hard he is in his jeans. You love that eating you out had that kind of effect on him, and you find yourself reaching down to cup his cock.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, breaking the kiss to breathe heavily, pressing his forehead against yours. “Are we going to do this? You can still back out-”

“We’re doing this,” you confirm.

“Okay, give me a sec.” Mingyu pulls away from you and you whimper at the loss. “Wanna take your shirt off now, while I take off my pants?”

“Yeah,” you agree, immediately working on the remainder of your clothing.

You’re naked in seconds, and you watch Mingyu step out of his jeans next to the bed. He’s produced a condom from his pants, and you watch with bated breath while he rolls it onto one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen in person- in fact, it might be the biggest cock, and your core throbs at the mere thought of it.

“I’m on birth control, and I’m clean,” you find yourself saying softly, toying with the fact of unprotected sex.

“Me too,” Mingyu breathes. “But, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

Leave it to the cop to be safe, you guess that’s a good thing, but part of you sinks at the idea of not being filled with his cum.

Mingyu gets on top of you again, kissing you deeply.

Your legs wrap tight around his body, and with pressure, you prompt him to grind down against your core again.

The feeling of his cock gliding between your soaked pussy lips is amazing- and you do your best to ignore the sensation of the condom.

He kisses you for a long time, until you’re aching for him from the grinding, and finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Please,” you whimper, looking up at him. “I need you.”

“Anything you want, baby,” he says, pressing his lips to yours again while he adjusts ever so slightly, pushing his hand between your bodies so he can grab the base of his cock and line it up with your core.

He starts by rubbing it between your pussy lips, lubricating himself before pushing just the tip inside of you.

You moan against his mouth, shocked at the stretch. It’s clear from Mingyu’s gentle, controlled motions, that he’s used to giving grace for his size, and he slowly works you open more and more, sinking inch after inch of himself into your core.

His kisses are a wonderful distraction, and you focus on relaxing, allowing your body to open up for the large cock.

When his front is flush to your own, his cock completely buried inside of you, you both release groans of pleasure.

The kiss breaks, and you pant against each others lips, opening your eyes to look at each other.

“You good?” he asks.

“Good,” you nod. “You can move.”

Mingyu lets out a shaky breath, and after a moment, he begins to fuck you.

Each thrust is euphoria, his cock dragging against your inner walls deliciously. Mingyu begins to kiss you again, and you grab at his strong shoulders, clutching him desperately while he fucks you into your mattress.

“You’re so tight,” Mingyu groans, lips moving to your neck. He licks at your sweet spot, and you shiver, wrapping your legs around him even tighter.

“You’re just so big-” you counter.

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits with a chuckle.

You don’t mind that you’re in missionary, don’t mind that he fucks you stupid this way- it’s a very intimate position, and once again, the thought of your ex pops back into your mind.

You realize, as the two of you get closer and closer to your highs, that maybe you weren’t ready for this- you don’t regret it, but you’re clearly not over your ex in the way you’d wished you would be at this point.

Maybe Mingyu’s just too soft, too gentle, too domestic-

It’s not his fault, he’s being sweet to you, but maybe sweet isn’t what you needed, not really. It just makes you miss being in a relationship.

The two of you cum together, and you hate that you’re still distracted. You wish you could give all your focus to Mingyu, after all, it’s clear he’s completely zoned in on you, but it is what it is.

If nothing else, he’d distracted you for a little, given you perhaps the best dick and pussy eating of your life- and as the two of you cuddle up to fall asleep, it’s a small blessing at least that you’re not sleeping alone.

Three

You’re at a bar waiting for your takeout when you run into the most unlikely person.

Seungcheol is dressed in work out clothes, a loose shirt, sweatpants, and a baseball cap, but he still looks downright lickable. His strong shoulders- the handsome face only partially hidden by his cap- he’s so recougnizable, and it’s clear he knows who you are too, because he walks over.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you retort, playing with the straw of your cocktail. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either,” he admits with a laugh, and you’re delighted at how his smile lights up his face. “You waiting on food?”

“Yeah, just a dinner order, figured I’d get one drink while waiting.”

He nods. “I’m waiting for food too. Just came from the gym, didn’t feel like cooking.”

“I get that,” you agree, looking down at your drink.

“You eating alone tonight?” he asks. “We could always just ask the kitchen to switch our orders, you know, get a table, eat here.”

“Are you asking me to have dinner with you?” you grin.

“If you’re up for that sort of thing,” he shrugs.

“You know what?” You let out a sigh. “Let’s do it.”

Seungcheol grins, and after talking with the bartender, you find him leading you over to a booth, having sorted everything out.

He’s got a beer now, and you’re enthralled with the way he looks while taking a sip.

He’s just so masculine- you’re extremely attracted to Seungcheol. He’d been kind of scary while dressed in work attire, but this gym outfit is much more your style.

“So,” he starts, releasing a breath. “Heard you saw Mingyu last week.”

Your skin heats with embarrassment. “Oh, yeah.”

“Don’t be shy,” Seungcheol grins, reaching across the table to nudge your hand. “I don’t judge. He’s my best friend, and we talk, so of course he mentioned it.”

“And now… you’re having dinner with me,” you point out.

Seungcheol shrugs. “Mingyu’s not the jealous type.”

“Are you?”

Seungcheol leans back against the booth, cocking his head to the side. He grins, and it’s one of the sexiest expressions you’ve ever seen. “I can be,” he admits. “It depends on the situation.”

You swallow thickly, reaching for your drink, in need of some sort of reprieve for the way your throat has gotten dry. “Do you and Mingyu do this a lot?” you find yourself asking.

“Do what a lot?”

“Go after the same girl?” you clarify.

Seungcheol takes a moment, and you can tell he’s deep in thought about how to approach this line of questioning. “It’s happened once before,” he admits. “Definitely not a regular thing.”

“Tell me about last time,” you suggest, interested in the story now.

“Not much to say,” Seungcheol shrugs. “He and I have been friends forever. In university there was this one girl, she wanted us both so we figured it would be interesting.”

“Was it? Interesting?”

Seungcheol flashes you a dark look, the kind of look that says ‘are you serious?’

“It was fun,” he says finally. “But, the conditions have to be perfect for sharing to work.”

You’re about to ask for more details, but your waitress comes over with your food, so you put your questions on the back burner.

Seungcheol had ordered a salad with four extra chicken breasts, and you stare at him in shock for a while.

“What?” he asks, taking a bite.

“I’ve just never seen someone order greens and four orders of chicken,” you admit.

“It’s good for you,” Seungcheol insists. “Protein.”

You look down at your rice bowl, letting out a sigh.

“Bet you’re wishing you’d got what I got,” Seungcheol teases.

“Never,” you laugh.

“Anyways, I bet you’re wondering about the conditions that make threesomes work,” Seungcheol sighs, returning to the topic at hand.

“I’ll admit, I’m curious. When you and Mingyu gave me your numbers, you did say I could have both of you if I wanted.”

“You still can, but I wouldn’t be shocked if you wanted to stick it with Mingyu. It wouldn’t offend me. He’s better with girls than I am.” You love how direct Seungcheol is about this, and it shows a good sense of self for him to be able to admit he’s not as much of a lady killer as his friend.

“Why do you think he’s better with girls?” you inquire.

“Most girls like that whole puppy dog thing. He’s a giver, and I respect that.”

“And you’re not a giver?” you toy, cocking a brow.

“More of a taker really,” Seungcheol admits, flashing you a grin. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing.”

“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the booth. “That might be just what I need right now.”

Four

Seungcheol’s mouth is hot on yours before you’re even inside your apartment. He’s all teeth and tongue and grabby, greedy hands. But there’s something so exciting about him as he pushes your front door closed with his foot, wrapping you up in his strong arms and lifting you off the floor, prompting your legs around his hips.

There’s no talking, no assuring you that you don’t have to fuck-

You know you’re both here to fuck each other’s brains out, and it makes things simple as he carries you to your room.

To your surprise, however, he doesn’t take you to your bed. “Where’s your shower?” he asks, breaking the kiss to look around.

“Through there,” you point to the door to your ensuite, and Seungcheol follows your directions. Once in the bathroom, he sets you on the sink, and you flash him a questioning look.

“I showered at the gym, but still,” Seungcheol says, tearing his shirt off from the back of the neck. “I feel like shower sex is a good way to go about this.”

“I don’t usually like shower sex,” you point out.

“Well, you will with me, baby, trust me on that.” Seungcheol slips out of his sweatpants and briefs, his cock rising to attention. “Come here,” he instructs, pulling you off the sink.

His lips are feverish on your own, and he undresses you as quickly as he’d undressed himself. His hands grope your breasts, and he leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth while you thread your fingers through his hair.

“Now turn the shower on,” he commands.

You step toward the shower, following through- and you feel Seungcheol’s hulking, built body behind your own. His chest presses to your back, and his hands begin to explore your form while the water heats.

You tilt your head to give him access to your throat while one hand massages your breast, and the other slips down to your core, teasing through your pussy lips.

“Wet already,” he muses with a grin. “Mingyu said you’re a sensitive one.”

A tingle of sinful delight rushes through you.

You wonder how many details Mingyu shared- you wonder if Seungcheol’s been eager to get a taste of you for himself.

The water begins to steam, and with a nudge, Seungcheol prompts you inside. He joins you quickly, pinning you to the wall while his lips devour your own.

He breaks the kiss a short time later, looking up at your detachable shower head, then a grin spreads across his face. “Guess I can be a giver today, but don’t tell anyone,” he teases, taking the shower head off.

You’re not even shocked when he brings it between your thighs, wet pressure surging up against your clit while you squeal in shock.

Seungcheol bends down, capturing your nipple between his lips again.

“Fuck, this feels good-” you groan, gasping and grinding down against the shower head.

“I’ll let you cum first, because when it’s my turn, it’s my turn,” he warns.

“Whatever you want,” you tell him, enjoying the way his mouth returns to your breasts.

He’s so rough, but it feels so good as the pressure from the shower continues on your clit. The dual feeling of his lips around your nipple, and the pressure on your sensitive bud has you getting close to the edge shockingly fast.

Seungcheol - like Mingyu - seems able to read you, and he adjusts, bringing a hand between your thighs. Two fingers slip into your wet core, and he focuses on applying the water to your clit while he begins to finger fuck you.

“Fuck,” you groan, clawing at the wall, trying to stay standing while he works you closer and closer-

“Want to see you cum,” he says. “Want to see you come undone on this fucking shower head and my fingers before I take what’s mine.”

Your stomach flip flops at the possessive tone, your breath coming out in a shocked gasp.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, baby?” Seungcheol asks. “Tonight, you’re mine. Don’t want you thinking about Mingyu, or that stupid fucking ex of yours. It’s just you and me, and if I see you drifting, I’ll bring you right back here, with me, got it?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Such a good girl for me, grinding against my hand-” he groans. “I can see how close you are.” He leans forward, his lips ghosting past your ear. “I’ll admit though, I’m not a very patient man.”

Your skin tingles at his words, and you find yourself reaching for his cock, using the water as lubrication as you begin to stroke him off.

“That’s it,” Seungcheol says, voice low. “I be good to you, you be good to me, that’s the way this should be, don’t you think?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, closing your eyes as your abdominal muscles tense, warning you of your oncoming orgasm.

“Squeezing me so good, come on, baby, cum on my fingers.”

Seungcheol’s hand works even harder, digits stroking your sweet spot- and that’s all you need to be thrown over the edge.

You let out a strangled gasp, your orgasm slamming into you.

“That’s it,” Seungcheol groans, pressing his forehead against yours while he works you through your high. “Keep cumming for me, baby.”

You couldn’t stop even if you wanted to- your entire body is Seungcheol’s to control, and he prolongs your orgasm until you’re a shaking mess.

You can hardly stand, but that doesn’t matter, Seungcheol puts the shower head back and simply picks you up. “I don’t have a condom on me,” he explains, sinking you onto his cock and releasing a hissing sound of pleasure, “so I’m just going to have to pull out and paint your chest.”

“Whatever you want,” you tell him, drawing his lips to your own as he begins to fuck you against the wall of your shower.

His fingers dig into your thighs, and he uses you to his own pleasure, fucking you like a mad man. He’s so strong- and you feel like some weightless doll in his grip. His lips are hot against your own, and his moans are some of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard.

There aren’t any thoughts in your head as he uses you in an animalistic, almost primal way, and you love every second of it, your sensitive pussy clenching tight around his aching cock.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans. “You’re pussy’s too good, gonna cum.” He pulls out of you abruptly, and you sink to your knees on your shower floor, looking up at him. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you, wrapping his hand around his cock and beginning to roughly stroke it. “Push those pretty tits up for me.”

You do as you’re told, watching Seungcheol- the way his bicep and abdominal muscles flex with each strained stroke of his rock hard cock.

He’s a fucking vision, and you don’t mind him using the sight of you to his own end- in fact, when he releases a strangled groan, throwing his head back as his hot seed shoots out across your tits, you kind of realize you love this.

His large thighs flex, his entire muscular body alive as his orgasm washes over him.

He works himself through it, and finally stops, hand falling to his side while the other reaches out to press to the wall. He looks down at you, offering you that sexy smile. “Good girl.”

Five

You’d given it a week of thought, and now here you are, looking at both Mingyu and Seungcheol as they stand in your kitchen.

“Are you sure you want this?” Mingyu asks, ever the softie of the two.

“She wants this,” Seungcheol confirms, looking you up and down. “She’s probably wanted this since the moment you said she could have us both.”

“It’s a big step,” Mingyu points out.

“It’s the ultimate distraction,” Seungcheol counters.

You let out a sigh, opening your robe to reveal the lingerie underneath. “Let’s do this.”

Seungcheol moves first, stepping forward and grabbing you by the back of the neck, drawing your lips to his. You kiss him desperately, cognizant of Mingyu watching. It feels amazing to have the attention of two gorgeous men, and you feel downright elated as Seungcheol lifts you off the ground and begins to carry you to your room.

You watch Mingyu over Seungcheol’s shoulder, and he follows closely.

“How do you want to do this?” the taller one asks as you make it to your bed, where Seungcheol tosses you down.

“No condoms,” you respond.

Both men laugh, exchanging glances. “Baby wants to be full, huh?” Seungcheol asks.

“So full,” you agree.

“I think we can deal with that,” Mingyu grins. “Any other requests?”

You swallow thickly. “Whatever you want.”

Mingyu and Seungcheol look at each other again, and the taller one shrugs. “I’ll go first,” Seungcheol decides.

“Sounds good to me,” Mingyu agrees.

The two nod at each other, and then they both begin to strip. They get down to their boxers quickly, and Seungcheol joins you on the bed first, making you face him on your knees as he captures your lips with his own. His hands are everywhere, massaging and groping-

A second set of hands joins the first as the bed dips, signaling Mingyu’s arrival behind you. His soft lips find your throat, and you moan at the sensation of two sets of mouths on you.

Their touch is everywhere now, but it’s clearly Seungcheol who pulls your panties down, rubbing your wet pussy while Mingyu works on your bra.

“So wet for us,” Seungcheol groans. “She’s been wanting this for ages, Gyu- haven’t you, baby?”

“For too long,” you agree with a whimper, looking up at him.

Now it’s Mingyu’s turn to moan a sound of appreciation, and he pushes your bra off your body, hands immediately cupping your breasts. His fingers pinch at your nipples and you moan desperately, pushing your ass back against him-

Fuck, Mingyu’s already hard, his cock straining against your butt-

Seungcheol captures your attention again, kissing you as his fingers push into your core, crooking up to hit your sweet spot.

You’re so wet- with each stroke, you can hear your juices on Seungcheol’s fingers, and it sets your entire body on fire.

It feels like nothing else you’ve ever experienced to be captured between these two gorgeous men- there are absolutely zero thoughts in your head, you’re so overtaken by this wordless need-

“Fuck this,” Seungcheol says. “I’m not huge on foreplay, need to fuck you.”

Mingyu snickers behind you, it’s clear which of the two men is better at patience, and you suppose that’s why the taller of the two men gets to go second. You can’t imagine making Seungcheol wait his turn, but that’s part of what’s so endearing about him.

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Seungcheol sighs. “I’ll fuck you doggy, Mingyu can be under you, and as soon as I’m done, he can get his turn, sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect,” you admit.

Seungcheol leans close, his lips ghosting over your own when he says, “Then be a good girl and get into position for me.”

All three of you stip the last bit of clothing from your bodies, and you’re quick to get on top of Mingyu. He immediately kisses you, cupping your cheek as you grind down against his cock- you’re trying to be patient for Seungcheol, but patience, it would seem, is a strong suit that neither of you have.

“If you put his cock inside of you, I’m going to prep your ass,” Seungcheol warns, and you pause your writhing on top of Mingyu. “That’s what I thought.”

Two hands roughly grip your hips, and Seungcheol pulls you up, off of Mingyu. A cock glides between your pussy lips, and Seungcheol smooths his palm along your back. “Be good for us,” he warns before slipping into your wet core.

You let out a moan, resting your head against Mingyu’s chest while he strokes you, holding you close. He nuzzles at the crown of your head, a gentle contrast to the man who begins fucking into you.

You’re kind of obsessed with the duality- the dichotomy of the two men is enough to keep you satisfied and on edge, enraptured with the act of making love in this way.

It’s clear already that you’re kind of in love with threesomes- there’s just something about this, or maybe- there’s just something about Mingyu and Seungcheol.

Seungcheol’s hands are rough on your hips, pulling you back to every thrust, and you finally relax enough to be able to kiss Mingyu again. His lips are desperate against your own, and his cock presses up between your bodies- you can’t help but grab at it, stroking him off in time with Seungcheol’s thrusts.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, rutting up to meet you.

“You’re being too nice on him,” Seungcheol muses, and you can hear his smile.

Neither you nor Mingyu respond, too busy kissing to care.

It’s clear, after a few seconds, that Seungcheol doesn’t enjoy being ignored, because one of his hands snakes around your body, fingers finding your clit.

“Shit-” you whimper, breaking your kiss as pleasure surges through you.

“Knew that would get your attention,” Seungcheol says smugly, rubbing you even harder.

“You gonna cum for us?” Mingyu asks, lips attaching to your neck, one hand groping your breast while you continue to stroke him off.

“Yeah, I’m close-” you gasp, pussy tensing, clenching tight around Seungcheol, who groans deeply at the feeling.

You feel so perfectly taken care of, two men working your body closer and closer to the edge until your orgasm takes over. You release a strangled whimper, body surging with white hot energy that pulses through you like an electric shock.

Seungcheol lets out his own sound of pleasure, and his thrusts falter ever so slightly- then he goes as hard as he’s ever gone before. Each rut is skin on skin as his hips hit your ass, and you can tell from his rough panting that he’s just about to tip over the edge too-

He cums with a deep groan, and the sound makes your pussy flutter even harder as ropes of cum coat your insides, filling you perfectly.

You’re fucked practically stupid, reduced to animal instinct as you stay captured between two large bodies. All you can do is stay on shaking thighs, crouched over Mingyu, as Seungcheol finishes up and pulls out of you with a “Fuck.”

“My turn?” Mingyu asks, stroking your cheek to get your attention.

“Yeah, fuck- fill me up even more,” you whimper.

“You got it, baby,” Mingyu grins, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he reaches between your bodies, grabbing his cock to line it up with your pussy. He helps you down onto him, and you moan.

You’re still tight from your orgasm, but it’s substantially easier to take Mingyu after having just enjoyed Seungcheol’s girth- and the cum inside of you helps with the lubrication. You’re fully seated on Mingyu’s cock not a moment later, and you both moan from the sensation.

His lips attack your own, and you thread your fingers through his hair as he begins to thrust up into you.

You’re too weak to ride him, but from the way Mingyu bucks with the energy of a stallion, you doubt he cares.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans against your mouth. “You feel so good, baby.”

“You feel good too,” you tell him, words shaky as they escape you.

“She’s cock drunk already,” Seungcheol muses, and you hear him heading to the bathroom to clean up while Mingyu has his way with you.

“Are you cock drunk, baby?” Mingyu asks, pausing to look up at you with lust filled eyes.

“So good,” you whimper.

Mingyu grins. “Definitely cock drunk.” He cups your cheek, drawing your lips back to his own. He rolls you over so you’re now on your back, and then he sits up onto his knees. “Can you get onto your side for me, gonna push your leg up to your chest and fuck you like that.”

You do as you’re told, shifting into the position. Mingyu grabs your thigh, anchoring himself as he begins to rail into you. He has more maneuverability in this position than when you’d been on top, and he hits as deep as anyone has ever hit before, making you whimper and claw at the sheets.

“You look so good like this,” Mingyu tells you. “Being so good for us.”

“Mingyu-” you whimper.

“I know, I’m close too,” he promises.

Each thrust is hitting a spot that has your toes curling, and you’re quickly working your way to another high, pussy still sensitive from Seungcheol.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, digging his fingers into your thigh as he holds you open for himself. “Can’t cum till you do- fuck, wanna feel you squeezing my cock-”

“Gonna fill me up,” you whimper.

“Gonna fill you to the fucking brim, baby,” Mingyu agrees.

You close your eyes, so overwhelmed by pleasure-

“Let me fill you, come on, cum with me baby,” Mingyu urges, and that’s all it takes for you to explode on his cock.

He releases a grunt, fingers gripping you tight as he falls over the edge with you, fucking you roughly through your dual highs. You love how you can just relax as pleasure like you’ve never felt before surges through you- both men take care of you in their own ways, and this is what heaven must feel like.

But all good things must come to an end, and slowly, Mingyu’s motions begin to falter. He collapses half on top of you, breathing heavily as his lips eagerly seek yours out.

“Well aren’t you two cute,” Seungcheol’s voice makes you both laugh, pulling away from each other.

“Is that jealousy in your tone, Seungcheol?” you tease.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t work if you’re planning to do threesomes with the same three people more than once.”

“Oh, are we doing this again?” you ask.

Seungcheol grins. “Baby, what do you think?”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Gyucheol is low key one of my most favourite pairings

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🔮 preview. “Bet you’re happy with yourself,” Seungcheol muses, bringing his hot mouth to your throat. “Making him cum untouched like that.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, threesome, fingering, pussy eating, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, slight cum kink, slight exhibitionistic foreplay, inklings of roleplay, groping, size kink, cumming early and in his pants, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!reader

bonus

You’re standing at the bartop waiting for your drink when hands grab at your hips. You’re pulled back to a broad chest, and lips press to your throat, prompting you to tilt your head and grin. “Cheol,” you breathe, “what are you doing?”

“Keeping track of my prisoner,” he muses, grabbing at the orange jumper you’re wearing. “Can’t let my dirty little prison escapee out of my sight.”

It had been his idea to dress as cops and a prisoner for Halloween- and you think there must be some sort of rule against Seungcheol and Mingyu wearing their actual uniforms as costumes on a night like this- but fuck, they look so good in their navy blue.

You know you look good too, the orange jumper isn’t revealing per se, but it’s tight in the right places, and Seungcheol is feral for you regardless of what you’re wearing… or not wearing.

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