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mendeshoney · 2 days

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this close isn't close enough

a/n: happy thirsty thurday fellow harlots ^_^

this is a small little part 3 ish/sequel to take me back to eden (you can find part one here and part two here) that just popped into my head and i figured i'd jot it down for you all to enjoy. it does discuss wanting and trying for a child, so if that's not something you're comfortable with, this may not be for you, so read with caution. this is for @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech because without them this fictional andrei wouldn't exist! title is from "melt" by kehlani

warnings/tags: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, slice of married life, baby fever, fluff, lots of smut, shower sex, hotel sex (semi-public, against the window), oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation

word count: 12,163

“Almaznyy?” Andrei calls out, removing his reading glasses with one hand as he shuts his laptop with the other, then rubs the bridge of his nose.

He counts to ten in his head, waiting for your response, but it doesn’t come. The soft and familiar whrrrrr of a machine echoes back at him instead, and he sighs, a small smile stretching across his face as he gets up from his desk to wander down the hall.

When he makes it down the hall and to the threshold that leads to you, he's not surprised in the slightest to find you at your pottery wheel. Your back is to him as you sit on your stool, headphones on as your body lightly moves along to the music playing, hands firm and shaping the clay in front of you into what he knows is the makings of a teapot.

Beside you, on the work table, Andrei sees two mugs newly finished with their handles attached, two finished matching saucer plates that need to be painted with glaze and fired, and two little spoons, already fired and glazed, probably newly taken out of the kiln. Beyond that, he also spots two jars - one for honey and one for sugar cubes, you had told him - and three brand new jars of glaze.

He takes a second to himself to just silently admire you, his beautiful wife of nearly two years, and lets his heart beat wild and content in his chest.

Andrei had converted one of his guest rooms into your own little art studio not long after you moved in with him, and by converted, he means he took out all the furniture, stripped the carpet, and let you decorate and furnish it how you saw fit.

He tried his best to learn as much as he could about what kinds of art you liked creating, the tools you used, but in truth, a lot of it was lost on him, and you had more mediums of art you were interested in than you cared to admit. Andrei had ended up giving you his card instead, telling you to buy whatever it was you needed or wanted, so that the space became exactly what you had always dreamed of.

You had been meticulous about it, too, and Andrei adored every second of watching you design the space back then. The flooring was first - you insisted on water and stain proof vinyl floors - followed by shelves, storage drawers, a small desk, your massive work table, and other organizing things. Then, once you had a place and space for everything, you bought canvases, a pottery wheel, clay, easels, paints, a sketchbook, pencils, pens, markers, and more.

You’d bought a kiln, too, which had its own place in a little shed he bought and had built for you outside. Since you'd gotten back into pottery and started making pieces, you'd been able to sell some to a few of the wives, girlfriends, and partners of players on the team, as well as some of Andrei's co-workers in the Canes' front office. You had even put a few up of your paintings and drawings you'd done on your larger canvases in their charity auctions over the last couple of years, which had given you a significant amount of your own money.

Andrei encouraged you to go legit and open up a shop, which was an idea you'd been slowly getting used to. You'd set up a website so far, and had sold your first collection a couple of months ago - planters and vases and hanging planters and such - which had done extremely well, but you insisted you wanted to still be able to find fun in doing it again instead of allowing it to feel like an obligation.

To help with that as of late, had been your project of a tea set for his mom's birthday, which was still months away. You'd been using the kiln a lot more because of it, for test pieces as well as the actual pieces themselves, so more often than not lately, your art studio is where he found you.

"If you call for me and I don't respond to you in ten seconds," you'd told him when you first started on the set, "I'm either in here, or at the kiln out back."

Quietly, he observes as you shape the lump of clay in the center of your wheel into a sphere, then, unhappy with the roundness, you carefully squeeze at it until it's back into another lump, before shaping it out once more. The rise of your shoulders before they tense as you start to create a hole in the middle of the clay, and the fall of them again when you start to pinch at the walls until it forms into the exact shape you want.

Only when you stop the wheel and dip your hands into the bowl of water beside you to get rid of the excess clay does Andrei approach, carefully placing his hands on your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head back, bumping it into his abdomen gently as you gaze up at him with his favorite dazzling smile. He carefully removes your headphones, putting it on the work table and smoothing your hair down.

"Hi baby," he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then to your lips.

You hum softly before sitting up, turning yourself around on the stool to face him. "Hi handsome," you return, grabbing a towel from the work table and wiping your hands before settling them on his waist, fingers playing with the belt loops of his jeans. "Did you call for me a lot?"

"Just once," he says, unable to resist bending down to kiss you again.

He loves looking at you like this, soft in the mid morning light, a blissful smile on your face with dots of clay and glaze over your cheeks and on the little apron you have covering your clothes. He loves how he can smell the vanilla of your body wash among the earthen scents in the art studio, and how it makes him feel like he's completely at peace.

Andrei loves you. His almaznyy. His beautiful diamond. His wife.

"What's going on?" You ask him, those beautiful eyes crinkling at the edges in another one of his favorite smiles when his hands descend into your hair, carding the strands between his fingers.

"I bought the tickets for us to go and visit Evgeny and Sara." He says.

"Oh good," you say with a nod before leaning into his touch. "When do we leave?"

"Next week," he says, tugging playfully on a strand of your hair and chuckling softly when you pout at him for it. "Is that okay?"

You wrap your arms around his waist, rubbing your face into his clothed abdomen, your verbal response muffled in the fabric. Andrei laughs, scratching gently at your scalp. "What was that, almaznyy?"

"Da," you say, leaning back to look at him again but keeping your arms secured around his waist. "That's fine with me."

He smirks when he spots a familiar glint in your eyes, watching the way your pupils dilate then blow out a little wide when he cups your face in his hands, thumbs caressing at your jaw. "My busy little almaznyy, you've been working hard lately, haven't you?"

You nod, humming in agreement. He nods too, letting one of his hands trail down and to the back of your neck, deftly undoing the knots at the top of your apron. "So diligent," he praises, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Your eyes track him as he removes his hands from your body, lowering himself to his knees so he can wrap his arms around your waist to get at the ties behind you. He buries his face into your neck as he does so, adoring the way your head immediately tilts to allow him the room. He ghosts his lips across the skin as he undoes the ties around your waist, ignoring your little whines of protest when he pulls the apron off of you and tosses it to the side.

He sits back on his haunches, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin of his own. "You got clay on your clothes too, almaznyy." He playfully chastises, gesturing towards the little flecks of clay on the black shirt you're wearing - which is most definitely his - and to the miniscule spots on your sweatpants. "Think we should probably get you cleaned up in that case, shouldn't we?"

A small smirk crosses your lips as you nod, and Andrei smiles, surging up to wrap you in his arms. You go easily, both your bodies on muscle memory as you wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and he lifts you into his hold easily, standing with you and carrying you off down the hall to your bedroom.

The warm spray of the shower cascades down his bare back as Andrei fucks you slow and deep against the tiles, his arms settled into the space behind your knees as he holds you up and open for him.

Your cries echo around the bathroom, your arms wrapped around his neck and fingers tangled in his hair, grasping at the strands desperately, his name a repeated plea on your lips.

"More," you beg sweetly, and he smiles, eyes locked on your face. He lowers you a little bit, and on the next push in, your eyes flutter shut as your mouth falls open in a beautiful cry, pussy squeezing around his cock in a way that makes him so fucking dizzy.

"Come on baby," he coaxes, pressing you impossibly closer against the tiles and against himself, burying his face in your neck to suck a bruise into the skin. With every press of his hips forward, your clit grinds against his abs, and he can feel the way your body begins to tense up and shake in his hold, your nails disappearing from his scalp to dig into his shoulders instead.

His name leaves your lips in another desperate plea, and he chuckles, nipping playfully at the skin of your neck, your jaw, before capturing your lips in a filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue with yours before he pulls away just slightly, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he goes.

"Is my pretty wife going to come on her husband's cock?" He taunts, and he sees the way the words go straight through you, your eyes glazing over, body going almost lax in his grip.

(He'd gotten much filthier and practically insane with his dirty talk over time. It started not long after you'd left Eden and began officially dating nearly seven months after meeting, and had only gotten more intense during the three month time span that you'd been engaged. It didn't help the fact that he noticed you particularly loved when he called you his wife, regardless of the situation.)

"Andrei," you plead. "Please."

"Please what, pretty baby?" He murmurs, dragging his lips against yours lazily, "What is it my pretty wife wants, hm?"

Your pussy squeezes down again and he groans, stealing another filthy kiss from you. "'M so close," you say between kisses, dragging your nails across his shoulders again.

He keeps your legs hooked over his bent arms, reaching his hands down to squeeze at your waist, thumb rubbing gently over where he knows a little diamond tattoo sits at your side, fucking you onto his cock in deep, sharp thrusts that steal your breath from you, and your eyes squeeze shut as your body shakes even more in his hold.

Andrei latches his lips to that sensitive spot on your neck, pressing his body tight against yours. That, and the added friction as your clit rubs against his abs, your sensitive nipples brushing against his chiseled chest, has you coming around him with a loud cry. Your pussy clamps down, pulsing around him and Andrei groans, holding you tight as he fucks past the grip, chasing after his own orgasm.

He groans low and deep, electricity shooting up his spine as he comes, filling you from where he's buried deep. It sends your body into a second orgasm almost immediately, and Andrei curses, muttering a string of Russian in your ear at the unexpected sensation.

You both take a blissful, fucked out moment to calm down, heartbeats slowing and breathing returning to normal.

"Okay?" He murmurs after a few minutes, and you nod, sighing happily in his hold. He taps your hips, and you nod again. An unhappy sounding noise leaves you when he gently pulls out, and his heart aches a little bit, thinking you’re probably sore. He’s immediately pressing apologetic kisses to your forehead while lowering you to the ground. His hands stay on your body, keeping you steady until you manage to stand on your own.

When his eyes finally get back to your face, there's an expression there he hasn't seen before, one he can't quite place. There's a tinge of disappointment there, and longing, and it brings a frown to his face too.

He cups your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. When your eyes lock, the expression fades, and the smile that takes over your face is so brightly it almost knocks him off of his feet.

"What's wrong, almaznyy?" He says, thumb brushing against your cheeks.

You lean into his touch, hands circling around his wrists. "Nothing, Drei." You promise, "I'm perfectly happy."

There's nothing in your voice or in your face now that tells him that you're lying, or that you're hiding anything from him, so he has no reason to not believe you.

Still, he stores the expression he saw away for later, keeping it in mind just in case.

He takes his time washing you both off after that, enjoying the content noises you make as he shampoos your hair and wraps you up in a fluffy towel when you're all done, pressing gentle kisses all over your face before seizing your mouth in a kiss he hopes tells you "I'm so in love with you I think my heart might burst without you."

Andrei quickly darts out of the way as a little boy zooms past him, his father chasing after him and tossing a “sorry!” over his shoulder as he goes.

He laughs a little, calling out a “it’s okay!” in their way as he double checks that he still has a hold on your drinks and food before he keeps walking.

He heads back into the airport lounge and straight for you, handing you a cup of hot chocolate and a warmed up croissant from one of the bistros in the terminal. You accept it with a happy smile and a murmured ‘thank you’ before he snuggles up next to you on the little couch you’ve both managed to commandeer for yourselves.

He glances over at your airport outfit once more, mostly because he can’t help but appreciate how cozy you look.

Admittedly, he’s still got a small habit of dressing up when he flies, so he’s his standard in black pants and a white shirt, and you insisted on matching with him when you got dressed this morning. You’re in black lounge pants, a white shirt, and you have a gray sweater tied and resting around your shoulders.

Andrei figured out that when you fly you prefer to have your own blanket with you, which you have curled around your shoulders right now as you take a sip of your hot chocolate.

You look more ready for a cozy winter than you do for a week-long vacation during the summer in San Jose.

“Is it good baby?” He asks, taking a sip of his own coffee. You nod, holding the cup to your cheek. Another thing he learned - you get cold easily, but especially in airports.

“Very,” you nod, leaning your head to rest on his shoulder. “Spasibo, malysh.”

“You’re welcome, almaznyy.”

He’s content to relax like that with you, and when he takes his phone out once you’ve finished your drinks, you help him with the crossword puzzle game he became addicted to once he saw you playing it yourself.

The two of you are engrossed in trying to figure out a six letter word for the clue “tough” when there’s a blur of pale yellow accompanied by a flurry of giggles that crashes into your legs, and it makes both of you jump up a little in surprise.

It’s a baby boy, Andrei realizes, one who’s most likely just learned what running is given the delighted and mischievous expression on his face, and when he turns to check if you’re okay, he’s surprised to find you out of your seat, blanket abandoned, and kneeling on the floor in front of the child to see if they’re okay.

The baby looks like he’s seconds from crying, but then you’re smiling, speaking at him quietly and gently, and to Andrei’s amazement, the baby stops, looks at you, and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

You laugh, happy that you could make him feel better, and continue to speak to him while he babbles away at you. He’s seen you do it with Luka, coaxing him away from a tantrum he’d been seconds away from, and calming Mila down when she scraped her knee while learning to ride her bike that first time, and it still amazes him how good you are with kids. Something warm and fuzzy starts to grow in his heart, and it stops short when a woman who Andrei can only assume is the baby’s mother approaches.

“I’m so sorry!” She says, jogging toward where you and the baby are on the ground. “Leo’s just discovered how fast he can move but we’re still working on finding his brakes.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure her through a laugh. “My nephew Luka was the same.”

My nephew - Andrei still loved that you thought that way.

“He probably had places to be and we were just in the way, weren’t we Leo?” You tease, pulling a funny face at Leo. His mom laughs when Leo bursts into giggles, picking Leo up into her arms.

“He’s fast,” Andrei notes when you stand with her, “How old is he?”

“He just turned one,” his mom gushes.

You make a little cooing sound. “Is he your first?”

Leo’s mother shakes her head with a laugh. “You’d think so, but I have a three year old too. His name’s Sky, he’s with my husband over there, we finally just got him to settle down but then this little guy decided it was time to sprint.”

You and Andrei look over to where Leo’s mom gestured, finding the three year old who almost ran him over earlier eating snacks while his dad watches over him, all the while looking over at his wife and smiling when he sees her.

Andrei knows that smile, he probably sends that same smile your way about a hundred times a day.

Ulybka vlyublennogo muzhchiny. His mom had said. The smile of a man in love.

“You should think about getting them into sports soon.” Andrei says when he turns back toward the mom, “Sky almost tackled me in the terminal earlier-”

“-And Leo barely flinched when he ran into me!” You tease, making another funny face at the baby. He giggles, suddenly growing shy as he hides in his mom’s shoulders.

She laughs, “Everyone’s been saying that to me. I might just have to consider it.”

Andrei reaches into his pocket, grabbing his business card from his wallet and hands it to the mother with a small smile. “If you ever think they’re interested in hockey, give me a call or send me an email. I’d be happy to get them set up.”

The mother takes Andrei’s card with a curious look, and when she reads his name, her eyes light up in recognition, and she smiles, laughing a little to herself.

“I knew you looked familiar! My husband and I are big fans. We were there for your last cup winning game. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Andrei catches the glance you shoot at him from the corner of his eye, can see the tense line of your shoulders in his peripheral, but he gives the mother an easy smile, and your body relaxes.

Now that he has you, that time in his life isn’t so painful anymore.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely. “I’m glad that you were there, it felt good to have home crowd support.”

“I appreciate your offer, I’ll definitely reach out.” She says, then looks at both of you. “It was nice meeting you both, you’re such a lovely couple!”

You both say your goodbyes, you waving at baby Leo, who waves back shyly, then looks at Andrei. Andrei waves too, and to his surprise, baby Leo waves back to him too, before burying his face in his mother’s shoulder.

You finally return to your seat on the couch next to Andrei, wrapping both of your arms around his, resting your chin on his shoulder as you smile brightly up at him.

“That was hot of you.” You say, which has Andrei laughing in surprise.

“What was, almaznyy?”

“You and your business cards.” You say, scrunching your nose a little. “I liked it, it was very authoritative.”

Andrei shakes his head, booping your nose with his finger. “Calm yourself down, almaznyy. I’m still not interested in being part of the mile high club.”

You roll your eyes with a shrug, but relax fully against his side. “Offer still stands.”

You're laying on the floor of Sara and Evgeny's living room, laughing as you bounce eight month old baby Alexei up and down against your belly, watching as his little legs kick back and forth and he babbles his joy. From beside you, three year old Luka lays on his belly as he plays with the train set Andrei had bought him last Christmas, and five year old Mila rests on your other side, coloring diligently in the sketchbook you'd bought her for her birthday.

She'd seen you drawing in one of your journals and had become both enraptured and amazed as she observed you, and then had been overjoyed when you handed her the book and pencil so she could create her own drawings as she pleased.

Her parents had been worried that she might accidentally press the pencil too tight and ruin one of your other drawings, or accidentally draw over something you had done, but either way, you would have cared less. "It's good for her to do it this way," you had told them, "so she knows what she makes is important, too."

On the couch above you, Sara's feeding a bottle to Alexei's twin brother Aleksander, watching you and her children. She smiles, nudging you gently in the side with her socked feet.

"You're a natural at this," she praises. "The kids always seem to behave better when you're here."

You scoff a little, making nonsensical noises at Alexei as he babbles back at you. "Hardly," you say. "I think it's because Andrei wears them out first."

When you and Andrei come around, he tends to round up his niece and nephews, tiring the older ones out by running around while you and Sara or Evgeny or Andrei's parents help with the twins.

Sara shakes her head. "No, he might wear them out, but they still have plenty of room to be crazy. You settle them down. This is the quietest they've been all day."

You look at your nieces and nephews at where they each are, peaceful and happy and content, and you shrug, smiling a little to yourself. "I guess so."

Sara laughs, nudging you again. "So, when are you gonna have some little ones of your own? We're outnumbered by boys here and it's your turn to pop a baby out for once."

You falter slightly, almost dropping baby Alexei straight on your face before you catch him effortlessly, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness when you launch yourself upright into a sitting position. Luka and Mila barely spare either of you a glance, too focused on what they're doing. You gaze at Sara, holding Alexei tight with one hand while shushing her with the other.

"Not so loud!" You half whisper, half yell.

Andrei and Evgeny were just in the kitchen not too far away, and while they were probably distracted by shop talk, you couldn't risk him hearing like this.

Sara narrows her eyes at you, frowning, whisper-yelling right back. "You told me on the phone last week that you were going to talk to him about it! And the week before that, and two weeks before that!"

You groan, shaking your head and beginning to bounce Alexei again when he starts to fuss. Sara shakes her head right back at you, gesturing for you to follow her as she heads toward the twins' nursery, instructing Mila and Luka to "wait right here while mommy talks to your aunt."

As you head to the nursery, you pass Andrei and Evgeny who are, as expected, engrossed in their conversation, but it doesn't stop Andrei from tossing a wink at you as you pass by.

You pointedly ignore the way it makes butterflies swarm and swoop in your stomach, smiling softly in return before ducking out of sight and into the nursery. Sara shuts the door behind you, giving you a pointed look as she does so.

You'd had best friends before, obviously, but never an older sister figure, and none quite like Sara. When Andrei had introduced you two, she'd been nothing but welcoming, friendly, and someone you'd come to rely on quite a lot since then.

When she announced she was pregnant with twins last year, you'd been overjoyed for her, and often traveled back and forth between San Jose and Raleigh to help her with the babies, especially since it had been Evgeny's first year working with the coaching staff of the Sharks, having previously been in the front office.

Maybe it was the excitement you got in helping her decorate the nursery, even though most of it was taken care of since they had things from Luka and Mila, or maybe it was just all the preparation you helped her with, but it had given you severe baby fever.

Like...severe.

Severe enough that you were practically ready to be pregnant that very same day until reality kicked in and knocked some serious sense into you.

You'd asked her how she and Evgeny had approached the topic of having kids, if she had advice on how you should broach the subject with Andrei, and she had only one thing to say.

"They're pretty direct people," she had said. "It's best to rip the bandaid off with something like that."

A couple of months ago, she texted you a picture of the twins in the matching pajama set you'd bought, and something in it made you want to finally talk to Andrei about it. So you told Sara that you would.

But...

The second you'd gone to Andrei in his office about it, you suddenly got cold feet. Realistically, you two hadn't actually talked about having kids before. Things with the two of you had been unconventional and fast from the start, so granted, you both had done things a little messily and quite backwards.

Still, the worst he could say to you was "no" or "not right now baby," but despite your past mess you two had always been on the same page, so the idea of hearing a "not right now" was okay, but hearing "no"?

Yeah, not something you had exactly prepared yourself for.

So instead of allowing there to be room for a "no" or "not right now," you just...didn't say a word.

Which Sara was definitely going to yell at you for.

Or at least, whisper yell, what with the twins going down for their nap and all.

Sara lays a droopy Aleksander into his crib, and he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. She takes Alexei from you next, sitting in the rocking chair set up in the corner of the room to start to feed him his bottle while you sit on the floor, gazing at baby Aleksander through the bars of his crib.

"What in the world are you waiting for?" Sara asks you, voice soft but firm in the nursery.

You groan a little to yourself. "I just haven't gotten around to it, okay?"

"Yes, but why?" She presses. "You know he won't say no to you."

"I actually don't know that. He might not be able to say no when I ask for help, or ask for something, but children are not things to ask for. It's an entire human being you're bringing into the world, you know!"

Sara gives you a deadpan expression. "Of course I know, I've brought four of them into existence."

"Then you know that it's a lot to ask. Even if I want a child, even if I want to be a mom and raise my kids and bring them up, that doesn't guarantee that Andrei wants the same."

"He'll want them with you." Sara insists. "He'll want them because you'll be their mother and he's in love with you and those kids will be half of you and he'll be so proud to say that they're your children."

The idea fills you with hope, but you tamp it down. You have to be realistic about this. You know your husband, and you know that while Sara's right and he will do anything for you, he also probably won't handle this being sprung on him as a surprise, or appreciate being confronted with it out of the blue.

"Just get rid of your birth control and tell him you want a kid." Sara insists, and your eyes bug out of your head.

"Are you insane?" You whisper yell. "That would definitely give him a heart attack."

"Don't be so dramatic," she says, rolling her eyes. "He's too young to have those."

"I'll talk to him," you promise, more to yourself than to Sara. "But I'm not using any of your suggestions."

Sara shrugs. "Fine by me, but there'd better be a new baby next Christmas, and it won't be mine."

In the kitchen, Andrei watches with fond eyes as you disappear into the nursery with Sara and the twins. He's listening to what Evgeny's talking about, he really is, but his eyes are locked on the silent screen of the baby monitor, showing you handing Alexei off to Sara after Sara's put Aleksander down.

Watching you with his niece and nephews all day had filled his heart with something warm and fuzzy, something he couldn't quite place.

The way that you cared for his family since he introduced you to them was something that made Andrei incredibly happy, and he could tell that the way that they cared for you in turn made you just as happy.

He often caught you speaking with his mother on the phone, trying your best to only stick to Russian as best as possible to make her comfortable. His father didn't reach out often, but when he did, you did your best to converse with him too. Sometimes, when you thought Andrei wasn't looking, he'd see you reading through a Russian textbook in your art studio, brushing up on the language.

You talked to Sara almost every week, the two of you growing to be as close as sisters, and that made Andrei happy considering the only real sibling relationship you had was still pretty strained. Even after Andrei married you, your brother Joshua still wasn't his favorite person, which was unfortunate, considering his husband Sam was an angel and one of your favorite people.

Evgeny had also grown closer to you a little, considering how much you helped him and Sara prepare for the arrival of the twins. There were times he'd reach out to you if he couldn't reach Andrei for any reason, and Evgeny often teased Andrei about how more often than not, it seemed like a freak accident that he'd managed to find someone like you to be his wife.

"Believe me," Andrei had told his brother. "I know."

He listens intently to his brother as he discusses what's going on with the Sharks, clearly seeking Andrei's advice, but all the while, Andrei keeps his eyes on you, watches you through the baby monitor as you sit with Sara and the twins.

Everything about your body language screams comfort, like there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be, and it brings a smile to his face unconsciously.

Evgeny pauses in his ranting, glancing to the baby monitor and rolling his eyes, shoving at Andrei. "Obrashchat' vnimaniye," he scolds. Pay attention.

"I am!" Andrei insists, turning his full attention back to his brother. "You were saying?"

Evgeny opens his mouth, then closes it, a curious expression crossing his features. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?" Andrei asks, moving his brother so he can go into the fridge and steal one of those obnoxious glass bottles of water Evgeny insists on buying.

"About what comes after marriage," Evgeny says. "About having kids."

Andrei almost drops the water bottle on the kitchen floor, can hear it shatter in his ears, but he's pretty sure that's his brain doing that. "About what?" He asks, voice practically an echo in his head.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Ty takoy idiot."

Andrei turns to face him, frowning. "I am not an idiot."

"You are, actually. Have you two not talked about having kids?"

Andrei opens his mouth, then shuts it.

You two actually hadn't. Not really. Not at all, now that he thought about it.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Listen, I know you're enjoying your never ending honeymoon phase, but it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Andrei takes a swig from his water, glancing at you on the monitor.

You've got Alexei in your arms now, feeding him the rest of his bottle while Sara rests on the rocking chair, eyes on Aleksander.

His heart does a little flip, imagining you holding a little baby that's got your nose and his eyes, and it brings back the warm and fuzzy feeling he'd felt earlier.

Maybe...maybe it was worth a discussion.

Since Evgeny's house had gotten crowded with all the kids, Andrei had booked a suite for the two of you at the Marriott.

It had a lovely view of the city, especially at night, and Andrei enjoyed it even more with your naked body pressed against one of the many floor to ceiling windows, watching the way your face twisted with pleasure in the reflection of the glass.

The lights were off in the hotel room, so there wasn't a single chance of anyone seeing what the two of you were up to, but the thrill was there all the same. He wanted to show you off, show off his beautiful little wife, the only diamond he ever needed.

Your palm prints littered the window as you pushed back against him, and Andrei groaned, tightening the grip on your hips, fingers pressing against where he knew that little diamond tattoo rested beneath the waistband of your thong.

He could barely wait, barely think by the time you both got back to the hotel. The second your jeans were off, he pulled your thong to the side and slid in to the hilt, burying himself inside of you and making you come all over him in seconds.

It wasn't often that Andrei took you from behind. More often than not, he preferred looking at you, preferred watching the beautiful faces you made and watching the way your body reacted to his own. But in times like these, where there was something that could help him watch you, he couldn't exactly complain.

He releases his hold on one of your hips, letting his hands wander up your torso, bringing you upright against him as he bends his knees a little, adjusting for your height difference so he can cage you against him as he fucks into you.

Pleasant and happy noises leave you as he plays with one of your nipples, then the other, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses on your neck. His nails gently scratch at the valley between your breasts, making you shiver, before trailing his hand down your stomach.

He had every intention of putting his fingers to your clit, rubbing gently there the way you liked when he took you like this, but instead, his hands lingered on your stomach, on where he could feel the slight bulge of where his cock fucked in and out of you, and he found his hands resting there instead.

A shiver ran through your body, your pussy pushing back on his cock again as if on impulse, and a deep, pleased noise rumbled through Andrei's chest.

"Almaznyy?" He murmured against your neck, finding the sensitive spot below your ear and sucking against it gently.

You gasped in his hold, shaking a little, and he chuckled, pressing his hand against the little bulge of your stomach, the hand he still had on your waist tightening its grip, pressing his fingers a little more into the diamond tattoo.

"Can you feel me here, moya krasivaya zhena?" He asks you, cock throbbing when you squeeze against him in excitement. You loved it when he called you ‘my pretty wife.’ "Can you feel me fucking you?"

You nod, frantic, hands gripping onto his arms. "Please, malysh, wanna come."

"You wanna come already?" He taunts. "Gonna come for me in front of the whole city?"

A soft whine leaves your lips as he thrusts in particularly hard, emphasizing his question.

"Yes," you answer, nearly breathless.

“And what about me?” He teases, pressing his hand against your stomach a little more. "You want me to come inside, almaznyy? Want me to come right here?"

In the reflection of the window, he catches the way your eyes slam shut before you throw your head back against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry and body seizing as your orgasm claims you. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight, and it sends Andrei over the edge in seconds, pushing down on your waist to bury himself inside of you, cock throbbing almost painfully as he comes.

The two of you shake silently for a second, and Andrei holds you both upright as best as he can until he can feel your body as it calms down. He pulls out gently, not wasting a second before he scoops you up, walking you over to the bed to lay you on it gently before he climbs on beside you.

You go to him almost immediately, and his arms open on instinct, welcoming you in his embrace as you bury your nose in his chest.

He wants to say something, anything. He wants to ask you if what just happened was okay, if you're okay, if he didn't cross a line, if you maybe wanted to try that again sometime soon or maybe if you want to try it in a different position.

But then he hears your breathing start to even out, feels the way your body goes lax in his hold, and he resigns himself to discussing it another time.

The following day, you and Andrei head back over to Sara and Evgeny’s for lunch. You help Sara put the kids down for their naps after you all eat, and Andrei and Evgeny handle the dishes.

When you and Sara come out of the kids’ rooms, you’re met with a chorus of laughter from Andrei, Evgeny, and then their mother’s voice echoes through the living room.

Peeking around the corner, you can see Andrei and Evegny crowded around Evgeny’s laptop, definitely on FaceTime with their mother.

She signals to you to hang back, and you nod. You’re more than happy to give Andrei and his brother the alone time they need to speak with their mom, so you lean back against the wall, Sara against the one opposite you, and you smile at each other when you hear the brother excitedly converse with their mother in Russian.

Your fluency has gotten better, but it’s not one hundred percent - same with Sara’s - so the two of you can only really pick up on bits and pieces here and there, catching tidbits of their mother’s praises for her boys along with her normal chastising.

You two are looking fit!

Still, you both need to eat more.

You’re working too hard.

Are you ready for the upcoming season?

Oh my brilliant boys!

How are my daughters?

How are the grandkids?

Evgeny, you’d better bring them by soon so I can babysit.

Andrei, how are you doing?

Are you and my favorite girl happy?

When are you two going to give me more grandchildren?!

That last part sends a shock through your body, and Sara nudges you with her foot at the same time Andrei begins to stutter and stammer in the living room.

Their mom starts to say something else when her voice gets quieter, and you realize Andrei’s turned the volume down. His voice gets a little quieter, and Evgeny’s loud laughter drowns out whatever Andrei says in return to their mother.

Sara gives you another pointed look, as if to say “So you still didn’t talk to him about it.”

You roll your eyes, and she nudges your foot again before dragging you down the hall and into her and Evgeny’s bedroom.

“For the love of God,” she says. “I know you said you’re not taking my suggestions, but you are going to have to take this one, specifically with the promise that you’ll at least save it until you get back to Raleigh.”

You answer her with a deadpan stare, and she sighs, exasperated, before gesturing to you.

“You have to seduce him.” She says plainly. “It’s how I did it with Evgeny, and it’s how you’re going to have to do it with Andrei instead of tiptoeing around.”

You’re slightly dumbfounded, so all you can manage is a weak “What?”

“Remember when I told you to rip the bandaid off?” She asks, and you nod. She waves a hand around, “Well, that’s what I meant by that. Seduce him. Rip the bandaid off.”

“Seduce him…” You say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

Sara grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you a bit. “You know he loves you, you know he thinks you’re hot. Use it.”

Sara doesn’t know how you and Andrei met, no one does except Lottie, Oli, Mason, Eli, and you and Andrei. She has no idea about your past.

Which means she has no idea that if there is anything you know how to do, it’s seduce Andrei.

You try your best to clear your mind, focusing on exfoliating your skin as you shower and the things you’re planning on doing once this shower is done.

It had been a week since you’d returned from visiting with Sara and Evgeny, and this morning, you’d gone to see your OBGYN doctor to discuss…well, a possible game plan.

You agreed that after you finished this round of birth control pills and had your period, you and Andrei would probably start trying.

And well, after you spoke to Andrei about all of this, of course.

But Sara was right, seduction might have to come first. You were too out of sorts to wait any longer.

He had been gone this morning when you went to your appointment, having to be at the practice rink to watch the team’s morning skate, and when you had returned home after running some errands, he’d been in his office for a string of phone calls, which he said he’d be in and out of till about two this afternoon.

It was about noon, then. So you’d gone on a run, had a little pep talk with yourself to prepare for the impending conversation, and strategized.

The pep talk you had was simple - if during said conversation, Andrei voiced that he didn’t want kids, that was that. You would not be forcing him into anything he didn’t want or trying to convince him, and the two of you would likely talk things out from there.

If he did want kids, perfect, you could talk about that, but, you could also give him a bit of extra motivation.

Which brought you to the seduction strategy you’d developed so carefully on the way back from your run.

It was about one in the afternoon when you got back, so you threw together a quick lunch for you and Andrei to have - once he was done with his phone calls and you - and it was about one thirty when you hopped into the shower.

You’d gone for a wax right after your doctor’s appointment, as part of the errands you ran, along with a mani pedi, but a little extra gentle exfoliation on the legs never hurt anyone.

Once you finished in the shower, you toweled off and applied the vanilla lotion Andrei loved the most on you, before slipping on one of your favorite sundresses. It was also one Andrei liked on you, particularly because it was just the right side of see through.

Hence, why it was a key part to your strategy.

It might be devious, and it’s definitely playing dirty, but you need a little ammunition on your side, if not for the sake of a small confidence boost to get you through the conversation.

You did this for a living, for a time. You did this specifically for Andrei before, it shouldn’t be too hard to do it for him again. Sure, the way that you seduced him now looked different, the way that you were together now had changed drastically, but Sara was right. At the very least, Andrei loved you, and he never failed to remind you how attractive you were to him.

So hopefully, this worked.

You checked the time on the clock on your nightstand - one fifty five. A quick glance in the mirror assured you this was the best option outfit wise, and your nerves reminded you that you’d both probably need a little bit of liquid courage for this next bit. Heading back out to the kitchen, you make yourself a quick margarita and pour Andrei a shot of his favorite whisky.

If there was anything you knew about your husband, sometimes he just needed a little something to take the edge off before he could plow forward with whatever it was he needed to do. He was bound to be nervous once you brought up the idea of having a baby, especially if you were going to be playing just a little bit dirty about it.

You grabbed both glasses and headed back down the hall to Andrei’s office. Just as you crossed the threshold, he was bidding whoever was on the other line goodbye, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself.

Andrei is your husband. You love each other. You reminded yourself. He is your husband. You can get through anything together.

Andrei smiles when you hand him his glass, his reading glasses perched on his nose making him look both hot, authoritative, and innocent all at once. “Now how did you know I needed this, moya zhena?”

You shrug, playing innocent. “A lucky guess.”

You both toast, clinking your glasses before each taking a sip of your respective drinks. You try to hide your smile behind your glass as you do, but you should’ve known better.

Andrei’s almost always looking at you, so nothing ever could get past your loving and doting husband.

“What’s that smile doing there?” He teases, and it’s then that he seems to finally take in what you’re wearing.

And that you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

You try another innocent smile, but Andrei raises a brow in suspicion, quirking his finger and summoning you to his side of the desk.

Placing your glass down on the mahogany, you round the desk to his side, obeying when he taps the desk and jumping up, taking a seat but keeping your legs crossed.

You don’t want him distracted.

“Are you about to ask me for something expensive, almaznyy? Because if you are, you’re off to a good start.”

You never actually needed to do anything if it was expensive, including asking him for anything, since you did have your own income, and you both knew that. But still, every now and again you liked to pretend like you did, liked the way it made Andrei nervous and pliant, like he didn’t meet you the way he actually did, like he wasn’t familiar with the concept.

But that wasn’t what you were going for here.

“Well,” you start, “it’s sort of expensive. An…investment, if you will.”

He frowns slightly. “Don’t tell me Jarvy’s wife actually talked you into wanting to buy that monstrosity of a beach house.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, having almost completely forgotten Tessa’s attempt to expand her real estate portfolio by tempting you with an even bigger sunroom than the one you and Andrei had now.

You shake your head. “No no, I don’t want that house.”

“But you do want a house?” Andrei inquires.

You shake your head, nerves suddenly racing through your veins. It makes your hands shake, so you reach out for him, cupping his jaw with your hand, leaving the other resting in your lap. You thumb over the stubble along his jaw, humming to yourself, trying to gather the right words.

It makes Andrei nervous. “Listen, almaznyy, whatever it is, we-”

“I want this house, Bubby,” you interrupt, wanting to be out with it but also not sure if you were remotely prepared for the rest of his sentence. At the pet name, Andrei’s eyes get brighter, his entire demeanor softening. “I want this house, with you and I in it, and maybe…maybe a little one running around in it, too.”

There. You said it…kind of.

But it was out there now.

And Andrei…

There’s surprise in his face, definitely, and you’d been expecting that. But there’s also no…opposition. Nothing that says he doesn’t want to have this conversation, nothing that screams disagreement, nothing that says he doesn’t like the idea.

There are nerves there, like yours, but amongst the nerves and surprise is…hope? Something wistful.

You lean into it, trailing your hand from his face to his arm, then down to the desk where his hand rests beside your legs. You take it, intertwining your fingers, playing with his hand a little.

“Bubby,” you continue. And that time you’re definitely playing dirty, saying one of his favorite pet names like that, like you want something - which you do, no question - and it makes Andrei’s whole body relax. “I want a baby,” you say, this time, plainly, so there’s no question and no doubt. “I want to have a baby with you.” You glance up at him, finding his intense gaze already on you. “What do you think?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and if you didn’t already know your husband, his lack of a response might concern you. But the look on his face tells you that he’s thinking, and so you wait, giving him enough space and time to collect his thoughts.

Finally, he squeezes your hand, a little sigh of relief mixed with a laugh leaving his chest, eyes crinkling at the corners as a brilliant smile takes over his features. He says nothing, just maneuvers you to part your legs so he can haul you off the desk and into his lap. You go to him easily, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his neck, breathing him in. One of his arms bands itself across your waist, the other across your back so he can cradle the back of your head in his hands.

“I didn’t know how to ask you.” He says softly into your ear. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. How to ask…how to tell you…”

“Ya tozhe,” you tell him. Me too. “I didn’t know if it was something you wanted.”

“We never talked about it,” he agrees. “And we should have, and I’m sorry we didn’t.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, malysh. We’re talking about it now, aren’t we?” You say, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

He tightens his grip on you. “Because you were brave enough to do it. You’ve always been the brave one of the two of us, almaznyy.”

“You were the one who brought us together, Andrei.” You remind him, “I couldn’t have done that. Only you could have, and you did.”

“I would do it again.” He swears, leaning back a little to press a kiss to your forehead.

You pull back a little, puckering your lips, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you softly, gently, and like he has all the time in the world. You love when he kisses you like this, like he’s afraid you’ll break or disappear into thin air. It makes you feel precious, like the very diamond he continues to call you.

“Bubby,” you murmur between kisses, “how many babies do you want?”

There’s a choked noise that bubbles in his throat, so you pull back, looking at him in concern. He reaches for his scotch, but you bat his hand away, handing him the bottle of water he always keeps on his desk instead.

He takes a couple of grateful swigs, and much to his disappointment, you climb off of him and climb back to your perch on his desk, giving him some room to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Didn’t mean to take you by surprise there.”

Andrei shakes his head, putting the closed water bottle down and reaches for his glass, downing the rest of its contents. When it's empty, you take it back from him, putting it on a far enough corner of his desk before reaching for your glass, taking down the rest of your margarita, then set the empty glass next to Andrei’s. Once those are out of the way, you lean back on your hands, your attention solely on Andrei once more.

He’s got a little glint in his eye as he considers you, letting one of his hands come up to rest on your legs, caressing your skin. “You know me, almaznyy. I’m not picky.” He starts. “I’ll be satisfied with as many babies as you’re willing to give me.”

You smile, pleased with his answer. In reward, you nudge the hand he has on your leg a little, and Andrei beams, gently grabbing your calf so he can part your legs, this time, to take in the sight of your bare pussy.

Carefully, you pull up the hem of your dress and push yourself to the edge of his desk, and Andrei takes your ankles, gently placing one on the armrest of his chair, putting the other over his shoulder. He scoots his chair in closer, your leg sliding down his back a little and allowing his hands to rest on your hips.

“We should…” he starts, swallowing. “We should probably talk about this a little more.”

You smirk. “We are talking, though.”

“In depth,” he clarifies. “Get into specifics, and things.”

But even as he says it, you can see in his face you probably wouldn’t get further than the next five minutes. “We can still talk about it after, too, okay? We’ll sit and have a real conversation about it.”

He blinks, nodding, then glances down at where you know he wants to bury his face.

“If you wanted a baby, almaznyy,” he says, warm breath fanning over your lower abdomen, “you didn’t have to play dirty.”

“Dirty?” You ask, innocent as ever. “What do you mean?”

Andrei narrows his eyes at you. “The first time you walked into this office on a mission, you were dressed just like this.”

“You mean when I used to be your assistant?” You tease, and he pinches your thigh playfully.

“Moya zhena,” he warns. He may be playful, but it seems you’ve pushed a few too many buttons in that area today.

Shame, you think. Maybe I can try again after dinner.

You roll your eyes playfully, pouting a little. “I was nervous and needed some confidence, alright?”

“You look plenty confident to me,” he reassures you with a slight nod, then he’s bunching up the fabric of your dress and pressing against your stomach, his nice way of saying ‘lay back moya zhena, let me take care of you.’

The first swipe of his tongue in your folds takes you by surprise, a pleasant squeal leaving your lips and echoing around his office. His second taste of you is slower, his tongue laying flat against you and dragging from your entrance to your clit, his lips circling around the bud and sucking in a way that elicits a pleasant moan from you.

Andrei’s hands crawl up your body to the neckline of your dress, and you help him a little, slipping the straps off so he can pull the neckline down, cupping your tits in his hands and squeezing.

He’d been particularly fond of the first time you’d had sex in this house together. Had cherished the memory of you in that light pink sundress and on this desk in a similar fashion. It was probably why you’d chosen to approach him this way, he thinks absentmindedly, lips and mouth settling into the familiar pace you love when he’s got his face between your thighs.

Andrei can feel his pants get a little tighter the wetter you get, his chin coated in your slick and nose nudging against your clit as his lips and tongue work you open. He’s so perfectly at peace here, totally content to just lick at you and taste you for hours at a time that he nearly forgets why you’re sprawled out on his desk like this.

You tugging at his hair serves as a gentle reminder that kicks him into gear, and he smiles against your skin, pressing kisses to the junction of your thighs and nipping at you a little.

“Andrei,” you say, breathless. “Potoropites', pozhaluysta.” Hurry up, please.

He shakes his head, gently letting your legs fall to the side as he sits up in his chair, draping his body over yours. “Not this time, almaznyy,” he says, wrapping your arms around his neck before he wraps his own arms around your back, cupping your ass in his hands.

Your brain kicks into gear just in time for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s lifting you up, pressing filthy open mouth kisses to your neck as he navigates the hallway carefully, taking the measured and familiar steps to your bedroom.

He lays you gently on the mattress, placing you delicately among the pillows before he’s shedding his shirt and pants, kicking his boxer briefs off to the side and then settling back between your legs.

This time, your thighs squeeze at his head when he sucks your pussy into his mouth particularly hard, tongue dipping inside of you, and your fingers fly into his hair, scratching at his scalp in warning.

“Behave, moy muzh.” you hiss through gritted teeth, even if the way you writhe against his face tells him you like it.

“You started it,” he reminds you, tugging on the dress resting around your middle. You huff, grabbing the bottom and peeling it off, tossing it in the direction of Andrei’s pile of clothes.

Your eyes sparkle with mischief when you watch the way he takes in the sight of your naked body. No matter how many times the two of you do this, Andrei always looks at you the same way.

Like he’s in love, like it’s the first time, like for all he wants to take you apart, the way he’ll put you back together will be well worth it, and if it isn’t, he’ll work for it until it is.

“Pridi ko mne, lyubov' moya,” you beckon him. Come to me, my love.

His bottom lip drags against your clit as he rises from his position, tongue darting out to lick at your arousal still coating his lips, and the sight alone licks at the flame of arousal sparking low in your belly.

When he crawls up your body to kiss you, he props himself up on his arms, not wanting to rest his full weight on you, his delicate little almaznyy. Normally, you love it, but right now, you need something a little different.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you seize his mouth in a bruising, desperate kiss, pulling him down to you and taking him by surprise as you manage to flip him onto his back on the way down. You take full advantage of his surprise by making your way down his body to settle between his legs, wrapping your fist around his cock and taking him into your mouth.

Andrei groans, sitting up on his elbows to watch you.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to make a baby if you keep doing that,” he warns, cock throbbing against your tongue as if to emphasize his point.

You bat your eyelashes at him, sucking at the head of his cock and using your hands to stroke at him at the same time. He hisses, one of his hands flying to rest in your hair, the other resting behind his head and emphasizing the chiseled muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen.

Sometimes, you couldn’t believe this man was your husband.

“Almaznyy,” he warns when you take him down your throat, swallowing around him. You’re slow to come off his cock, letting him leave your lips with a dramatic ‘pop.’

“I’m still on birth control,” you tell him. “So we can’t make a baby tonight anyway, probably not for another month, at least.”

His brows furrow, both from your statement and the way you twist your wrist, stroking his cock the way you know he likes. “Then what - ah yebat’ - what are we doing?” He asks, trying to focus on the conversation as you take him back in your throat. You hum a little, and he tugs on the strands of your hair again in warning.

You pull off of him, gently stroking your hand up and down, squeezing as you go. “Practicing, of course.”

He lets his arms fall out beside him, collapsing against the pillows and dragging his hands over his eyes. “Almaznyy,” he huffs, hips stuttering when you squeeze him at the base.

“Hmm?” You hum, ready to take him in your mouth again, but Andrei moves quickly, hauling you up his body and cradling you close as he flips you over again. He positions you among the pillows, placing one under your waist so you’re practically propped up for him. He positions himself so his arms rest in the crook of your knees, your ankles near his head as he folds his body over yours.

He takes his cock in his hand, running the head through your folds. “Practice?”

You nod, “Practice, for now.” You reach out, pushing his hand out of the way so you can line his cock up with your entrance. “Which is why the desk was perfectly good, and-”

The rest of your words are stolen from you when Andrei bats your hand away gently and slides inside of you, slow but precise, bottoming out and nestling his body close to yours. Your eyes flutter shut when you squeeze around him, and his hands come up, cradling the sides of your face as he murmurs encouraging words to you, staying still until you’ve adjusted to his size.

“Almaznyy,” he calls, and your eyes blink open, glazed over and hazy and you’ve barely even started. “Good?”

You nod, tilting your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. He laughs a little, shaking his head. “So damn impatient.”

He raises his body off of yours a little, angling his hips and setting a steady pace, one that has you whining in protest almost immediately, grabbing at the muscles of his ass and trying to drag him closer.

“I won’t break Andrei-” you start, but he cuts you off with a particularly hard thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“I don’t care if it’s just practice, almaznyy.” He tells you, “and I don’t care how many times we have to practice. I’m going to make it last, and I’m going to make sure that you remember all the ways I fuck you and make love to you until I put a baby in you.”

You gasp a little, and Andrei smiles to himself, thoroughly pleased. He sits up, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs and settling in to fuck you just the way you like. He fucks you in deep, strong strokes, the head of his cock brushing up against that sensitive spot in your pussy every single time.

It steals your breath from you, and all the telltale signs of an orgasm approaching signal to Andrei like a beacon. The way your breathing catches in your throat, the way you can’t keep your eyes open, how your legs start to shake.

He takes his thumb and rests it on your clit, rubbing in lazy circles until your back arches off the bed, a satisfied cry echoing out of your throat and into the pillows beside your head when you come. Your pussy squeezes down in a way that makes Andrei’s head go dizzy, and then he’s coming with a groan, pushing your hips down onto him as he buries himself to the hilt, his orgasm sudden and a shock to his system.

It takes him a second to catch his breath, and moves your legs off of his shoulders to make it easier to pull out of you and give you reprieve, but a noise of protest leaves your throat, and your ankles lock at the base of his spine.

He pauses, glancing at you curiously when he notices the look on your face.

Andrei thinks back to before you left for San Jose, the day he took you in the shower, and how upset you’d been when he set you down on your feet.

It clicks in his head, then. What you’d been upset about.

He’s still hard - he’s practically always hard when he’s around you - so he moves his hips, slowly pulling back an inch before pushing back inside. You throw your head back, his name leaving your lips in relief, and he smirks.

Fucking you in shallow thrusts, thumb circling your clit, Andrei watches in fascination as he pushes his come back inside of you with his cock, watches the way your pretty face twists in pleasure, and hums satisfactorily to himself.

“Is this what you’ve been needing, moya zhena?” He asks, eyes on yours the whole time. “How long have you wanted this?”

You can barely answer him, your head thrown back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed, back still arched and pushing those beautiful tits of yours up. Andrei takes them in his hands, massaging them, and you keen, pushing into his hands and pussy trying to retreat from his cock with nowhere to go.

The sensation feels different for him. He’s hypersensitive now, all too away of the slick slide of his cock, of your mixed come leaking out of you before he pushes back in, feels heat begin to prick at his skin when your pussy continues to flutter and squeeze, like it’s trying to keep him inside of you. With every brush of his finger over your nipples, your pussy squeezes and you try to pull off of him, but in the next breath you’re winding your hips, pushing back down until he’s buried to the hilt.

Andrei pushes your legs up again before he rests his weight on you gently, his shoulders under your knees, burying his face in your neck and placing his hands under your ass, cradling you closer to him as he starts to fuck you in deeper strokes, drowning in the pleased little noises leaving your lips.

“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, dorogaya,” he murmurs against your neck. You feel so good, darling.

“Andrei,” you finally manage to breathe out, and relief floods through his veins. There were times when you two made love that you got so lost in the pleasure that you couldn’t speak to him, and it worried Andrei to no end. But you always came back to him, always called for him, and the same calm washes over his body, a shiver running up his spine.

Your arms come up, wrapping around his neck and arching your back, giving him more access to you. Andrei hums, pleased, sucking a bruise into your skin while his cock starts to throb from where he’s fucking you, can feel a second orgasm creeping up when he bites down gently, raking his teeth over the sensitive skin and you start to squeeze and clench around him.

“Gonna come again, almaznyy?” He asks, nosing along your jaw. “Want me to come again, too?”

You nod, turning your head and Andrei meets you, slotting your lips together and swallowing your moans down when you shake gently beneath him, back arching and pushing your body closer to his. His eyes squeeze shut, electricity zipping up his spine when your orgasm tips him over the edge and he’s spilling into you again, groaning against your jaw.

His arms come out from under you and he gently eases your legs back down against the bed, massaging the muscles as he does. Instead of resting them against the bed though, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at his lower back, and Andrei laughs.

Gently, he rolls you both until he’s laying underneath you instead, careful to keep himself nestled inside of you, and he smiles to himself when you do a half cat-like stretch before sprawling across his chest.

A pleased little exhale greets his ears after a moment, and his hand comes up, rubbing gentle circles in your back. “Made you lunch,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “‘S in the kitchen.”

“Spasibo, almaznyy.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We should go eat it then, it’s probably cold by now.”

“It’s the chicken caesar salad wraps you like.” You say, lips dragging across his chest as you speak. “And I made strawberry lemonade this morning, should be ready by now.”

He nods, tapping your flank gently. “We should get up, malyshka. Get cleaned up.”

You nod, but you’ve got that look in your eye like before, like you’re disappointed as you carefully lift yourself off of him and roll onto the mattress beside him. Andrei rolls onto his side, cradling your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, moya zhena?”

You shake your head, a small smile gracing your lips. “Nothing’s wrong, just…excited, is all.”

“Excited?”

“To start a family with you,” you clarify.

“Then why do you look so sad?” He wonders, thumbing at the pout in your bottom lip.

You laugh, nose scrunching a little before cuddling into him. “It’s silly - I just wanted to start now.”

“It’s only a month, right?” He asks. You nod, nose rubbing at his pec, and he smiles to himself. “That’s good - plenty of time for us to practice, then? Wanna make sure we get it right on the first try.”

You snort. “Perfektsionist.” Perfectionist.

“Only the best for you, moya zhena.” Andrei says, teasing. Underneath it though, you both know that he’s serious. Because if anything, even as he rises from the bed and lifts you in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom, you know he never does anything half assed.

Now that you’re both on the same page, he’s going to do everything he can to ensure you’re well looked after from beginning to end, and when your little baby eventually comes, he’s going to work twice as hard to make sure the both of you are taken care of, and that you’ll want for nothing.

You, his almaznyy, and your future child, his malen'kaya rubin. His little ruby.

#andrei svechnikov #anderi svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov fic #carolina hurricanes #mendeshoney masterlist

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heehoonies · 1 month

Text

under the table

description: you and sim jaeyun have been academic rivals for as long as you can remember, competing intensely to beat the other in every class you've ever shared. for years, you've hidden your feelings for him, burying them deep down where jake can't find them, and you're hellbent on ensuring he never discovers your secret.

word count: 22k

contents: academic rivals to academic rivals with benefits to lovers, lots of angst, slight crack at points, overuse of nicknames (angel, pretty, gorgeous, etc), jake is kinda mean in the beginning, heejayhoon are flirty frat boy menaces, reader works herself to exhaustion in one scene, jake is stupid with emotions, characters get drunk/drink a lot, lots of party scenes and wonyoung as your roommate/best friend bc she's the first idol i thought of

smut warnings below the cut

a/n: thank u to my lovely bff @seung-log for letting me bounce ideas off of you and for beta reading this fic and giving me encouragement the entire way! ilysm <3

now playing: under the table by banks

smut warnings: dom!jake, sub!reader, hard and soft dom jake, implications of sub!jake (my agenda y'all he had to be here somewhere), degradation (slut, whore, etc), praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), fingering, oral (m. and f. rec), handjob, titjob, multiple orgasms, squirting, hate fucking (kinda), cumming inside, cum swallowing, cum as lube (kinda), finger in ass (f. rec), orgasm delay, marking, biting, spit swallowing, dry humping, grinding, slight 'sir' kink, choking, slight size kink (big cock/tiny pussy), fucking with clothes on, overstimulation, crying, slight dacryphilia, clit pinching/slapping.

your eyes drag over your paper hurriedly, looking for the red ink splotched at the bottom of the page, skin tingling as blood rushes to your head.

95.

you flip your paper over, eyes darting to your side where a pair of big brown eyes are already staring back at you. jake raises an eyebrow at you, showing you the big fat 100 plastered on the top of his test sheet.

your nose scrunches as you attempt to not give any reaction to the fact that jake has beat you. once again.

“ha! knew it,” jake smirks, basking in his triumph.

“whatever, sim. you know physics is not my strongest subject.” you try to brush his statement off, but his gloating begins to get under your skin. you poke your tongue on the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to smack him as he continues to sit there, simply staring. “what is it?”

jake shrugs, “nothing much, y/l/n, just the usual. enjoying the fact that i beat you for yet another week in a row.”

he’s absolutely over exaggerating, knowing you just topped his score in english literature yesterday. “whatever,” you repeat, not wanting to him to sense your sulkiness. “stop staring.” you wave a hand in front of his face to get him to look away, to which he relents after a moment.

jake would stare in shock and awe if he ever found out how this rivalry actually drives your anger. losing to him is always frustrating, of course, but nothing is more soul crushing than the butterflies bouncing around in your stomach every time jake looks at you and the way you fail to will them away every single time.

“wasn’t staring,” he disagrees, turning to face back towards the whiteboard, his leg beginning to bounce from the excess excitement.

“sure you weren’t,” you respond dryly, utterly too exhausted to deal with his bickering today. not with that way that stupid button up with rolled sleeves fits snugly on his biceps, round silver rimmed glasses sitting lazily on his nose, strands of hair falling delicately across his face. to top it all off, he’s wearing a ring on his pointer finger, tapping it lightly against the edge of the desk. the sound is bothersome, but not as bothersome as how utterly attracted you are to the mere image of the metal around his long finger. long fingers that are attached to large hands that lead to buff, veiny arms and broad shoulders, the whole sight nearly making you drool.

he must know how absolutely attractive he is right now. he must.

“hey jake, you going to the party at heeseung’s frat tonight?” jungwon calls from the seat behind him.

jake turns, nodding slightly, “jay and hoon are forcing me to go, i told them i already had plans but they wouldn’t listen,” you scoff, digging through your backpack for your laptop, knowing his plans were simply to study the entire weekend, plans that completely mirrored your own. he glances at you with an eyebrow raised in confusion before turning back to jungwon. “why?”

“the sorority girls are all coming,” jungwon cracks a smile, the smugness in his voice dripping with every word that tumbles out. he lowers his voice, leaning in as you still, trying to listen to jungwon’s hushed tone. “karina’s gonna be there, bro.”

you freeze, eyes glancing up as you pray you’ve heard wrong. yu karina of phi mu royalty? the most gorgeous girl on campus who also, unfortunately for your cynical brain who wants so desperately to hate the girl, happens to be the kindest person on earth? of course jake would be interested in her, just like half the student body is.

jake nods slightly, muttering a “thanks, jungwon,” before turning back towards the front. you busy yourself with logging into your laptop, willing your brain to think about anything other than jake and karina together.

god, this is going to be a long day.

luckily enough, friday is the day where you only see jake once during your courses. you head home to your on campus apartment after the day ends, tired of your racing thoughts and hoping to recover in the confines of your warm blanket, cozied up with a good book and a cup of tea before doing some nightly revision.

you are not allowed such a reprieve from the day.

“y/nieeee!” wonyoung greets you at the door, a bright smile gracing her face. “we’re going out tonight!”

you drop your bag on the sofa before plopping down next to it, sinking deep into the cushions. “no, wony, we’re not going to heeseung’s party.”

her smile drops, pretty lips curling into a small frown, “why? and how did you even know there’s a party at heeseung’s tonight?”

“doesn’t matter. we’re absolutely not going.”

she huffs, stomping her foot lightly. “come onnnn y/n! don’t you ever get tired of working yourself to the bone week after week? i think you need a break, even if just for the night.”

you sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands, trying to fend off the impending headache that started on your walk from your classroom. you relent to her, a small sigh escaping your lips before you mutter, “jake’s going to be there.”

“and? don’t you want him to see your sexy ass in something skimpy?”

your cheeks burn at the insinuation of sim jake having his eyes on you in any context other than a negative one. “no, plus karina is going to be there. heard jungwon mentioning her specifically to him in physics today. so i’d rather not go and see something that’ll hurt my spirit more.” you pause for a moment, “he already beat my score on our physics quiz this morning, and i haven’t stopped thinking about him and her together all day. so can we please stay home?”

wonyoung sighs deeply, sitting down next to you. “who cares if they’re going to be there? you’re y/l/n y/n, you deserve to have a life outside of academics and obsessing over jake. and if he does get with her? then fuck him!”

you can feel your resolve breaking, knowing you can never truly say no to wonyoung with her pleading eyes and tiny pout.

“oh my god, fine.” you relent, sighing deeply when she jumps off of the couch with a little squeal. “oh i’m so excited! let’s go to your room, i know exactly what you’re going to wear.”

and that’s how you ended up standing outside heeseung’s frat house, your comfy tennis shoes contrasting the skin tight strappy black dress with a plunging neckline that wonyoung forced you to wear. “i’m not breaking my fucking ankle just so you can have more fun playing dress up, wony. it’s the dress and these shoes or i’m taking my ass there in sweatpants and no bra.”

“come on, let’s get a drink,” wonyoung grabs your hand and pushes her way through the crowd of bodies, “we’re probably gonna need it.”

“welcome ladies! wonyoung, nice to see you again.” you are both greeted by park jay mixing drinks when you step into the precipice of the kitchen. he does a double take when his eyes register you in front of him. “and y/n, wow! you look drop dead gorgeous. i’ve never seen you at one of these parties before.”

your cheeks burn lightly as you opt to ignore his comment, knowing jay’s reputation with the student body for being a man who… definitely gets around. wonyoung lets go of your hand, beginning to browse the drink options laid out on the kitchen island in front of her. “yeah, wonyoung made me.” you respond, coming to stand on the opposite side of jay as you eye the shaker in his hands. “you playing bartender?” he nods slightly. “what’s the strongest thing you can make me?”

jay chuckles in response as he pours what he was mixing in the tumbler. “here, try this,” he hands you the cup. you take a reluctant sip, the liquid going down with a strong burn. you shake your head lightly in response to the strength before downing the entire cup in a few gulps, needing the liquid confidence desperately.

“a woman after my own heart,” he stares for a moment before handing you another drink, this one pre-prepared. “try this one. don’t down it all at once though, i won’t be able to satisfy you if you keep that up.”

you nod, taking a small sip before a warm feeling begins to settle in your belly. “this one is tastier.”

“figured you’d like it, a sweet drink for a sweet girl.”

wonyoung cocks an eyebrow at him before shaking her head lightly at the way his gaze is completely on you, the ogling he’s giving your curves going right over your head but catching her attention instead. “me next, bartender.” he nods, turning back to face the counter. “your regular?” she nods in response, walking around him to slide up against you.

“you have a regular?” you giggle at her. wonyoung nods lightly, the small smile never leaving her lips, “jay’s been playing bartender for me since we were still in high school.”

jay makes wonyoung her drink and hands it over and the two of you exit the kitchen, opting to walk outside for some fresh air and maybe a free spot on the lawn to sit down at. there are small clumps of people scattered around the impeccably green lawn. people sip from cups and bottles, a few from cans. there are fairy lights strewn across the underside of the covered porch, and you wonder which frat member’s girlfriend convinced them to put them there. the moon illuminates the darker parts of the lawn, some of them coated in artificial light from various tiki torches strewn about aimlessly, stuck into the group roughly.

“wonyoung!” lee heeseung’s booming voice carries across the lawn from where heeseung and sunghoon are playing beer pong. “come join!”

you approach the table, “y/n, is that you?” you nod, smiling. “hi, heeseung.”

“is this your first frat party?” you nod again and he cracks a smile in response. “how are you enjoying it?”

“we just got here, so i haven’t seen much.” heeseung nods, scooting over on his side of the ping pong table.

“be my partner, wonyoung go stand by hoon.” you find nothing inside of you that wants to argue, knowing that you and heeseung get along, as much as two people who don’t know each other all that well can get along.

you glance up at heeseung as you stand next to him, “i’ve never played, heeseung.” his smile grows wider at your admission. “well, it’s our turn, so let me show you.”

heeseung moves you to stand in front of him, pressing you between the edge of the table and his wide t-shirt covered chest. “so grab the ball,” he places it in your hand before covering it with his own, much larger one. “aim, and toss!” heeseung guides you to toss the ball, it lands in one of the cups with a satisfying plop and you smile, glancing up at him where he’s smiling back down at you.

across the lawn, unbeknownst to you, an irritated sim jaeyun is ignoring his conversation with karina, watching the way heeseung is crowding your space and holding your hand. he’s not mad, no, why the hell would he be mad? he hates you. he’s got the yu karina in front of him giving him bedroom eyes, yet all he can focus on is the way heeseung presses himself against your back. jake feels the strange anger brewing inside his gut, completely checked out of his conversation with karina.

karina is here, ripe for the taking, absolutely willing and eager to flirt with jake, but all he can manage to do is stare at you, willing you with his mind to glance over at him, to see him standing here with her. he can’t believe you’re standing so close to his best friend, basically inviting him to fuck you in front of everyone here with your innocent stare.

wonyoung takes the cup and downs it, “next time let her throw for herself, hee.” sunghoon accuses, “no cheating in beer pong, man.”

“y/n’s never played!” heeseung defends, never moving from where he’s got you trapped, his body feeling so close and his towering size intimidating you a bit. “had to teach her, it’s the least i can do.”

before he can register how his body is reacting, jake’s leaving karina without so much as a second glance as his legs carry him over to the table. “move over hoon,” jake commands from the other side of the table. heeseung meets jake’s eye, having a silent conversation that not even sunghoon is privy to. heeseung gives sunghoon a look and sunghoon relents, allowing jake to take his place before wandering off to see jay in the kitchen and maybe find out if riki is passed out somewhere. wonyoung catches your gaze, her eyes as confused as yours are at the sudden intrusion. “gonna school you, y/n, just like i did in physics this morning.”

you roll your eyes while heeseung feels your body tense in his hold. “it’s okay, we got this. jake sucks at beer pong.” he says lowly, smiling to reassure you. you nod your head in response.

jake does, in fact, suck at beer pong, a fact you become well aware of within his first few throws. usually jake is decent at beer pong! but heeseung has watched jake down multiple drinks this evening, and when jake gets drunk, his beer pong skills significantly drop off. jake swears under his breath with every miss, hatred brewing behind his gaze every time he sees the way heeseung keeps you held in place, the way the pair of you celebrate every successful toss with a small high five, heeseung’s hand dwarfing yours in size.

“you lose, jakey boy,” heeseung announces as you sink the last ball with a bit of guidance from him. jake downs the last cup before slamming it back down on the table, the flimsy plastic being crushed beneath his hand a bit. heeseung gives you a squeeze of the shoulders and one last high five, “don’t be a sore loser, man.” heeseung moves, finally letting you escape as you walk to meet wonyoung at the other end of the table. heeseung grabs jake by the scruff of his neck, guiding him to another part of the backyard.

“god, that was so weird.” wonyoung shakes her head, “why was jake so mad? and heeseung is being weird too…”

the words swim in your own brain. was jake mad that you were there at all? you’ve never been to one of heeseung’s parties before, so that could be it, he could feel like you’re intruding on his space. you’d feel the same way if he ever raided one of you and wonyoung’s girls’ nights; though wonyoung would argue that that is a completely different situation if she ever heard your battling thoughts. was it because heeseung was so close to you? did he think you were cheating at beer pong like sunghoon did? that’s just too many questions for your already intoxicated brain to handle. your heart swelled at the fleeting thought that maybe he was angry that heeseung was close to you for an entirely different reason, completely unrelated to the game or his urge to beat you in every aspect of your shared existence.

“i think it’s time for us to go home,” you interject her ramblings, the entire situation beginning to overwhelm you, “i’m feeling tired.”

wonyoung eyes you with a raised eyebrow and a slightly squeaky whine as the two of you walk inside, “we just got here! come dance with me at least for a little bit.”

across the lawn, heeseung is scolding jake. “why are you being a fucking asshole to y/n, bro? she’s just trying to have a good time.”

“me? being an asshole? that’s rich coming from you, you we’re basically fucking her against the table, heeseung!”

heeseung rolls his eyes, knowing he was being very tame in comparison to some of the compromising situations jake has seen him in before. and it’s not like you or heeseung felt that way about each other. “i knew you’d be mad at that. jake, open your fucking eyes. people who actually hate each other don’t feel that way you do about her.”

jake’s drunk mind refuses to relent to heeseung’s words, always needing to be right and knowing heeseung is dead wrong, “shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“i do, actually, and i know better than you do.” heeseung shakes his head, sighing, “you’re too stubborn for your own good, sim.”

“fuck off man,” jake shakes himself out of heeseung’s grasp, heading inside for god only knows what reason. just to get away from heeseung and from his confusing thoughts of you, he supposes, in his far too drunk mind.

wonyoung tugs you into the living room that’s been taken over as a dance floor, but you tear away from her before she can drag you into the sea of people, trying to avoid dancing entirely. “i’m going to find the bathroom,” wonyoung’s attention is grabbed by a mutual friend of yours and she stays to chat with them, watching you stumble into a nearby hallway out of the corner of her eye, following your figure until you disappear around a corner, worry bubbling in her gut.

someone stumbles into you, nearly knocking you onto your ass. “hey, watch where you’re g-”

your sentence is cut off by someone pressing you against the wall in the dark corner of the hall, your eyes rising to meet a pair of pretty brown ones, jake’s pupils wide from how buzzed he is right now. you can feel yourself tensing in his hold, both scared and turned on from the mere proximity of his body. the heat of his body overwhelms you as he places one hand on your waist, the other against the wall at the side of your head, trapping you in place beneath his towering frame. “get off of me, sim,” you push against his chest, his body not moving an inch. fuck him and his broad shoulders and his thick, toned arms.

“are you trying to piss me off or something?” jake seethes, and you can see the anger in his eyes and the way he grips your hip tightly, threatening to leave a bruise. “trying to fuck all my friends? just opening your legs for every one of them like a whore?”

“fuck off, jake!” you argue, anger bubbling as you watch his eyes scan across your face, trying to ignore the bubbling arousal building in your gut, overwhelmed by his voice, eyes, presence, all of him being so terrifyingly close to you. “if i wanted to fuck all your friends, i already would’ve!”

jake’s hand next to your head is suddenly gripping your chin, forcing your head to look up further and stare up at his face. he sucks at the inside of his cheek, trying to reel his anger back in. “listen here, princess. none of my friends would ever fuck you, so stop trying before you embarrass yourself. you’re pathetic,” he moves his hand from your chin to wrap around your throat lazily. you can’t help the way your panties stick to you, wetness growing at the sight of him degrading you, his big hand wrapped around your delicate neck. you can feel your brain slipping already. “you’re worthless, do you understand me?”

you nod dumbly, swallowing a bit of spit to keep yourself from drooling.

“good girl,” is all his drunk brain can tell you, voice gravelly and lower than you’ve ever heard. his vocal tone makes the feeling in the pit of your stomach reignite. “remember your place, doll.” you nod mindlessly again before he lets go of your throat, his hand at your waist shoving you away from him. “get out of here before i have to teach you a lesson.”

monday rolls around unceremoniously, and knowing you’ll have to see jake first thing this morning is making you consider skipping class entirely.

you shake your head, knowing that nobody, especially not a man, is worth jeopardizing your grades over. no matter how annoyingly attractive he is.

you plop down in your seat, ready for the lecture. jake saunters in, his usual smile plastered on his face before it drops at the mere sight of you. your heart sinks, knowing that even your academic rivalry has never produced that sort of reaction from him.

“so, you and heeseung, huh?”

jake sits down next to you, eyeing you inquisitively. “what? absolutely not!” you hiss, “why the hell would you think that, sim?”

“beer pong,” he mentions, in a tone that makes you feel like you’re stupid. “i don’t like heeseung and i know he doesn’t like me. be serious now, jake.” you scold him, desperately hoping he’ll drop this.

“didn’t seem like it to me,” is all he says before tugging his laptop out of his bag and watching as the professor walks in the classroom.

“whatever, sim,” you brush him off, and the rest of your sentence gets caught on your tongue. “not like i care what you think,” you wish you could say, despite knowing just how much of a lie it is.

“good morning everyone, i finally have your test from last week fully graded,” your history teacher greets everyone and begins winding up and down the aisles, handing back papers with various numbers scribbled on top of each.

she places your paper gently on your desk, a huge smile greeting your face once you see the large 100 sitting on top in deep red ink.

“don’t start gloating now, princess. i got the same. you're not special,” jake’s words kill your remaining semblance of a good mood, feeling like he’s being meaner than he usually is.

“jake it’s 8 am, stop being such an asshole so early in the morning.” you fight, shoving the paper in your bag unceremoniously, missing the small frown that flits across his features. his thoughts flick back to heeseung scolding him at the party, making the frown grow on his face. you nose scrunches at his actions not turning you on like they normally did, instead just making you angry at him.

he shouldn’t feel bad, he really shouldn’t, and he's tricked his brain into thinking he truly doesn't care. your relationship has always been like this. something about seeing you this weekend made jake extra angry, and you’re the one he needs to take it out on. and if he kills your mood to match his already bad one? then all the better for his ego, annoying you being one of his favorite past times.

he continues his nasty quips throughout the rest of class, ones you try your hardest to ignore but somehow they slip under your armor and make hits at your fragile heart every single time.

after spending your down time studying in the library, you reach your next course and sit next to jake in math, leg bouncing roughly at the anxiety brewing at the thought of losing to jake again.

“oh thank god,” you sigh in relief, a 99 with a large circle sitting at the top of your surprise quiz from last week. jake feels his face twitch as he glances over to find your test sporting a higher score. he never loses to you in math, and he can feel his anger boiling.

“lucky break, y/n,” he bites, not missing the way your eyes turn downcast silently instead of fighting him with a quick, competitive response. jake doesn’t know why the sight of you ignoring him and not even arguing back makes his heart twinge.

class after class for the rest of the week, you keep topping jake’s score, but you can’t bring it in yourself to care. you feel like his combative words are filled with real venom now, versus the usual merely competitive undertones that they carry. sure, you enjoy when he’s mean sometimes, but it feels like he’s somehow crossed an imaginary line between sexy and hateful. and your brain can only take so much negative rhetoric before you’re closing in on yourself, blurring the edges of your consciousness to prevent any more hurt from being cast upon your body and mind. you barely stumble your way through the week, struggling to even drag yourself to class every day, knowing you’ll be met with his usually soft brown eyes staring daggers into your side profile.

you’re so worn down from the emotional toll this week has taken on you that you don’t even care that wonyoung shoves you into another tiny dress and drags you to another party hosted by heeseung. you choose to keep your inner turmoil to yourself, and wonyoung relents, allowing you to have your secrets for now despite being able to sense that something is absolutely wrong.

“jay, give y/n what you gave her last weekend, she needs it.”

“welcome back, pretty girl,” jay greets you, “bad week?” you nod numbly, meeting his gaze with obviously tired eyes. “let jay help you.” he gives you a soft smile, beginning to whip up exactly what he gave you last weekend.

“thank you, jay,” jay notices the smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but he doesn’t take it personally. “anytime, pretty.”

wonyoung grabs the nearest bottle of whatever beer they’ve stocked up on for this so called rager and follows you as you wander aimlessly. she grips your elbow, leading you to an open seat on the sofa in the living room. the party is less packed than last weekend, with only a few people mingling around the house, the living room no longer being taken over by an impromptu dance floor.

“hi y/n, hey wonyoung,” jungwon greets the pair of you, dropping down into the cushion next to wonyoung. “what’s up? enjoying the party?”

you nod simply, nursing your cup gently as your eyes can’t focus on any one thing in the room, vision slightly fuzzy and never once regaining clarity as you let all thoughts leave your head.

“you with us, y/n?” wonyoung waves a hand in front of your face. unbeknownst to you, ten minutes had already passed and both wony and jungwon had watched you as you barely even moved, aside from the cup occasionally being pressed to your lips. “yeah, sorry.” you mumble out. wonyoung gives your shoulder a small squeeze before rising to her feet. “we’ll be right back, jungwon and i need a refill, okay?” you nod as her figure disappears into the house.

a large shadow casts above you, drawing your attention up to meet big brown eyes. “why are you here? here to gloat some more?”

a small sigh leaves your lips as you tear your gaze from him before downing your drink at once, eyes fluttering shut. you place the cup on the coffee table in front of you before looking back up at him, “i don’t have the energy to fight with you right now, jake. please just leave me alone.”

jake sits down next to you, hand resting on your knee as he whispers lowly for only you to hear, “so you’re trying to act like you didn’t just kick my ass all week? you’re not gonna say anything about that?”

you nod a little, unable to meet his gaze, “jake, i’m so tired, please. i don’t want to fight right now.”

seeing the vision of you, a usually fiery, independent, self assured woman, surrendering to his words so easily causes a twitch in jake’s pants, his jeans beginning to feel a little too snug all of a sudden. “is that so?” he teases, his anger from the week still present in the undertones of his speech. “so you don’t even have the energy to be a good rival and taunt me back?”

you shake your head, “jake, please,” you whine, and its music to his ears. he squeezes your knee lightly, invading your space some more. “please what, angel?”

your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, mouth going dry at the three little words he’s just whispered to you. you stare at him with doe eyes and a shut mouth. “what is it, you can tell me.” he tries to coax the admission out of you.

“just so tired…” you relent, limbs feeling heavy.

jake stands and pulls you to your feet, ignoring how heavy his cock feels behind his denim as he leads you upstairs, “come on, let’s go find somewhere you can lie down.” the sudden kindness he’s showing you would strike you as strange if you were in your right mind, but the fogginess taking over your brain hides how absolutely weird this would be on a normal day between you and jake.

jake tugs the door of heeseung’s room open, guiding you inside before shutting the door and locking it. “lie down.” his voice is gentle, coaxing you into submission and a sense of calm, feeling safer knowing you’re away from the crowd and are able to breathe a little better without a thin sheen of smoke filling your lungs and obscuring your vision.

you obey, crawling under the covers that he’s pulled back for you before he tucks you under the plush material. “you shouldn’t be here while you’re feeling like this,” jake scolds you. your eyes shut gently, already falling asleep with a heavy heart and heavier limbs. jake watches you with a protective gaze as you drift off into dreamland, a sigh leaving his lips knowing you might finally have time to just exist, versus your usual act of constantly pushing yourself to the limit and further.

“you can’t just let people crash in my room, jake!”

“it’s y/n, hee.” jake glances up at the taller man for a moment, “she… something was wrong, but i didn’t want to send her home by herself. wonyoung certainly wasn’t going to go with her.” he scoffs at your roommate’s inability to grasp how strange you were acting. heeseung’s eyebrows shoot up at this admission, nodding slightly. “is she okay now?” he questions.

“she’s still sleeping,” heeseung had caught jake sneaking out of his room trying to get you a glass of water for when you wake up, planning to run up and continue watching you as you slept. not in a creepy way, just in a i don’t want anybody to come in this room trying to fuck on heeseung’s bed while y/n is sleeping there kind of way, as well as a i need to make sure no one tries to take advantage of her kind of way. why he wanted to do all of this, why he was treating you this way at all was still a mystery to him. “didn’t want anyone coming in and waking her up or messing with her while she’s sleeping.”

heeseung scoffs a bit at his answer, “you still don’t get it, do you?”

jake watches him with a blank stare, “get what?” he shakes his head in response, muttering a quiet “nothing,” before peeking inside his room to check on you.

“she’s fine, heeseung.” jake argues, quietly yanking the door shut. “let her sleep.”

heeseung shakes his head, “just let her uber home with wonyoung,” he suggests, testing the waters further to prove his theory is rocksolid.

jake gives him a glare that could kill, “did you not fucking listen to a word i just said?”

bingo.

“i’m kidding, chill.”

jake lets the comment go as well as he can, “if you’re done saying stupid shit, can you go grab me some water for when she wakes up?” heeseung scoffs at his words, but returns shortly with a bottle of water, to which jake gives him a small thank you in return.

“just… try not to be an asshole when she wakes up, okay?”

you don’t know how you got home that night. wonyoung told you it was jungwon ordering the three of you an uber, opting to leave with you since he lives in your building with sunoo and riki as his roommates. the rest of the weekend passes unceremoniously, your color slowly coming back after an absolutely off week. as you slouch down into the chair next to his on monday morning, you can only hope jake doesn’t fuck up your good mood as fast as he did last week.

“had a fun weekend?” you can’t decipher the tone of his voice.

“it was fine, i guess.” you shrug in response. “i don’t remember most of it.” you admit, not even caring how absolutely embarrassing that sounds, especially coming from someone of your academic caliber and positive reputation.

jake’s face seems to drop at your admission, quickly shaking off the expression, “well, are you ready for another week of me kicking your ass?”

“we’ll see about that, sim.” you smirk lightly, feeling your spark in this rivalry returning a bit, along with your deeply imbedded feelings for the man beside you. jake seems to have let go of the intense hatred he was holding the previous week, a friendly feeling returning to your long standing rivalry. “don’t think i’m gonna go easy on you, now.”

jake smiles secretly, happy to see the pep back in your step, so to speak. he hated seeing you the way you were at the party, your eyes looking lifeless and staring into the void aimlessly before he laid you down for a well deserved nap.

“hmm, what’d you get?” you peer down at the paper your professor has just laid in front of you. “97. you?”

“98.”

jake groans loudly, “god, you can’t just let me win, can you?” a smile graces your lips, “nope, you’ll have to fight me for it, sim.”

“alright, you two,” jay teases the two of you and you turn to face him. “y/n, you’ll never guess what today is.” he smiles brightly.

“i’m not sure, what is it, jay?”

“it’s my birthday, and i’m throwing a party at the frat tonight.” you smile at his admission, “will i see you there?”

jake shakes his head, teasing, “no, she’s probably gotta stud-”

“sure,” you interrupt jake, shooting him a glare before looking back at jay, “i’ll be there, jay.” you offer him a small smile, one which he mirrors while jake looks between the two of you with a scowl.

oh, you’re gonna get it.

you arrive at jay’s party, opting for a more casual pleated skirt and t-shirt since jay told you it was casual wear and he wanted a chill vibe, just some close friends. you’re assuming he invited you because of wonyoung, who had to opt out of tonight’s festivities since the poor girl caught a nasty case of the flu over the weekend. you heated up some canned soup for her and made tea before leaving for the night, telling her to text you immediately if she starts to feel worse.

“hi, gorgeous,” heeseung smiles at you, greeting you warmly and placing a drink in your hands.

“hi, heeseung,” you return his smile, watching him over the rim of your solo cup as you take a sip. “damn, this is nasty. what the hell is this?”

he shrugs lightly, “beats me. jay’s mingling instead of making drinks, so sunghoon’s doing the best that he can, i guess.” you nod before bravely taking another sip of the gross concoction.

“where’s the birthday boy?”

“ask and he shall appear,” jay smiles, coming to stand next to heeseung, “hi, angel, glad you could make it.” you smile at the two men towering over you. “thanks for inviting me, and wony sends her apologies. she got sick over the weekend.”

“that’s alright, hope she feels better.” heeseung says before the two of them begin whisking you off into another part of the house. heeseung separates from you and jay to greet a few people, jay’s hand on your waist to guide you without you getting lost. “i heard hoon’s making drinks? this is nasty, jay, have you taught him nothing?” you tease, glancing behind you at a loud noise sounds behind you. after finding nothing, you begin to turn back to jay before your eyes find jake standing with karina. the sight makes your blood boil, but you nearly shiver after finding him already staring over at you and jay out of the side of his eye. you shake off his dark stare, returning to your conversation with jay, not noticing the way his hand hasn’t left your waist despite the two of you no longer moving through the house.

“i’ll be right back,” jake tells karina, no longer focused on their conversation. karina scoffs lightly, knowing this is the second time in two weeks that jake has left her high and dry while she’s been trying to talk to him.

“jay,” jake greets his best friend, earning him a look of confusion from the birthday boy, “y/n, can i talk to you?” you glance at jay with a confused look, the man in front of you mirroring the same expression back at you.

“i– sure, jake.” you relent, setting down your already empty cup on a random surface before he’s tugging your arm, not caring about the searing grip he has on your wrist.

“didn’t i warn you to not fuck my friends?” jake’s hushed voice meets your ears, a frown pulling onto your lips at the question. you don’t remember talking about being attracted to any of his friends at all, let alone with jake himself.

“what are you talking about, sim?” you question, growing irritated at the implication that he probably thinks you’re easy.

“god, you’re so stupid sometimes,” he growls, pressing you against a bedroom door in the empty hallway. “you don’t even see them all eye fucking you? don’t be naive, y/n.”

you shake your head, convinced he’s fucking with you. “jake, your friends aren’t eye fucking me it’s called being friends with the opposite sex, you should try it instead of being an asshole all the time!”

jake yanks the handle near your hip, tugging the door open and shoving both of you inside before locking it behind him. “you drive me up the fucking wall, you know that?”

“the feeling is mutual, sim,” you deadpan. “are you done yelling at me? i’m ready to leave this fucking room and get far away from you. i’m trying to enjoy myself tonight, jake, i don’t need you fucking with my mood again.”

the dam in his mind breaks, and suddenly jake feels all his resolve slip away. he pushes you up against the closed door and squishes you against it. “god, you’re so fucking annoying, you know that? always know how to push my fucking buttons.”

the proximity has you holding your breath, waiting for his next searing words to tumble out of those plush lips.

“stop staring at my lips,” he demands, taking both of your wrists in one grip of his hand and holding them above your head. “you gonna keep making me mad?”

“stop fucking with me, jake, let me leave.” you know your words hold no weight in either of your minds, your body betraying you as your arousal is evident in the way your legs squeeze together.

jake shakes his head, “you need to shut up and take what i give you, since you’re so ready to be a slut for all my friends.” he grips your chin and squishes your cheeks with his other hand. “you gonna behave for me? or are you gonna be a brat?”

you finally relent, letting go of your argumentative front that you’ve put up around him for years as his grip on your cheeks loosens. you relish in the feeling of allowing him to take control, of jake offering you a moment to just exist without any expectations or responsibilities, to let him take care of you completely, “‘m gonna be good for you, jake.” you watch him with big eyes, his stare unrelenting as he watches you for any sort of discomfort.

“you sure you can take it, angel? i’m not gonna be nice.” you nod briefly, trying to use your hand before he grips tighter, “what is it, pretty? you can still back out now.” he tells you, giving you full control of the situation for a moment.

he watches a look flash across your face before you look downwards, embarrassed at the thought of what you’re about to ask. jake tugs your face to look back at up at him roughly, “want you to choke me,” you mumble. he grins wildly at your admission, hand on your chin snaking down to rest at the base of your neck. “like that, baby?” you nod slightly, pressing your legs further together under his intense stare. “tell jake what else you need.”

you take advantage of his momentary kindness to lean forward and capture his plump lips in a kiss, dirty and messy and utterly desperate. desperate for his touch, however you can get it. jake returns the favor, slotting his lips against yours, feeling every crevice of your gorgeous lips under his own. he fights back a moan, knowing he needs to maintain dominance over the situation. he squeezes tighter on your neck and you let out a small moan, allowing him to press his tongue into your mouth. you nearly gasp at the intrusion, relishing in the feeling of him nearly eating you from the inside out.

jake pulls away to stare back at your face, your expression already portraying how utterly fucked out you are just from a few touches. “can’t just take what you’re given, can you? greedy girl.” his tone is laced with warning.

“i can take it,” you argue lightly and he chuckles before moving you from the door to the bed, making you lie down on the mattress in front of him. “promise.”

“i believe you.” jake admits, sinking down to his knees and flipping your skirt up before pressing his nose against your clothed core. “bet you taste delicious, angel,” he stays there for a moment, licking against the fabric of your panties before pulling away. jake stands back up and unbuckles his belt, “another time, baby. need to fuck the attitude right out of you. always getting on my nerves.”

you watch as jake drops his pants and boxes just below his knees, revealing a thick, veiny cock with a blushing red tip. your cheeks go redder at the sight of him, already afraid of the stretch, “you’re so big.” the words tumble out of you without realization, your cheeks burning at the sudden admission.

“i told you i’m the best, baby,” he taunts you, “don’t worry, i’ll make you take it all like the cock slut we both know you are.” jake rips your panties, pulling a gasp from your chest as he holds the tip against your wet folds, the sight hidden from you by your skirt, “god, this turns you on, doesn’t it? when i call you a pretty little whore?” he feels your walls tighten slightly around his tip at his words and smirk casts over jake’s lips. “so all this time, my little angel has been getting wet every time we talk? dirty girl.” you shake your head, trying to hide your embarrassed face as your cheeks heat up. “don’t lie baby, i can feel you clenching around me.”

all the air is knocked out of your lungs when jake buries his huge length all the way inside, your hands going up to grab his biceps for something to hang onto as he begins ravaging you with a brutal pace, “see what you do to me? you make me so fucking angry, i can’t help but take it all out on you.” he feels your walls flutter around him as his thick cock drags against you, feeling every ridge of your pussy as his tip bruises your cervix with repeated precision. “god, you’re taking me so well, tiny little pussy was made to be destroyed by my big cock, wasn’t it?”

you nod dumbly, feeling cock drunk already, feeling yourself slip further away from reality with every drag of his veiny dick passing through you. jake fucks you into the mattress like he’s trying to split your entire body in half. you can’t get enough as jake moves your arms for a moment to tear your shirt off your body hastily, both hands reaching around and unclasping your bra before discarding both items somewhere in this random bedroom. he watches your tits bounce with each deep thrust, “god look at your tits baby, fuck– i could just eat you alive right now.”

“please,” you whine, not knowing what you’re whining for. “please what, my pretty little slut?” you don’t answer him, moaning loudly as he takes both your tits in his grasp, a hand holding each in a grip that’ll surely leave a mark.

“that’s what i thought,” he quips as he continues to plow into you, his head starting to spin from the feeling of your walls sucking him in with every thrust, never fully accommodating his size, “fuck, just take it all like a good cock slut, you were made to take me.”

his squeezing of one of your tits halts, moving down to pinch your swollen clit harshly, smiling wickedly at the groan of pain and pleasure that escapes your mouth. “too much?” you nod roughly, pleading eyes meeting his dark gaze, “too fucking bad.”

jake begins alternating between pinching and slapping your clit, relishing at the slight squeeze each action grants him, feeling himself tumbling to the edge already. “don’t you dare fucking cum,” he warns as he grabs your hips, shoving you up and down on his length like a fuckdoll, and you take it, sitting pretty with gasps leaving your parted lips as he chases his own pleasure. “fuuuuuck,” jake stills, cumming deep inside you, holding your hips flush to his body until he’s milked his own cock dry. you can feel your body on the edge of an orgasm as you wait for jake to finish you off now that he’s cum inside you.

he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your gaping hole, “god, you still make me so fucking mad,” jake shoves his length back inside roughly, stuffing his cum back into you, “can’t wait to watch you come undone beneath me.” he moans, rubbing rough circles against your clit. you throw your head back, moaning his name loudly.

“that’s it, pretty baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel this good,” jake leans in and bites the skin on your neck, sucking and licking at the spot to soothe it after. he places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss there before leaning up and prying your lips apart, mouth opening obediently. your eyes open in shock, watching him hover above you before he spits in your mouth, then sliding his hand down to rest at the base of your neck, squeezing lightly. “swallow it.” you follow his instructions promptly, a moan escaping your lips after feeling it slide down your throat paired with the pressure he’s applying.

“cum all over my cock, angel,” jake growls in your ear, the grit in his voice causing your dam to break, the rubber band in your stomach snapping before your eyes roll back, colors passing through your vision and limbs feeling numb and tingly as jake fucks you through your orgasm.

“jake, stop–” you attempt to push him off, your actions doing nothing to halt his movements, feeling overstimulated as your orgasm finishes washing over your body. “jake–”

jake leans in, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss to distract you as he slowly slips out of you, taking his fingers and shoving the cum mixture back into your leaking hole. he pulls away, glancing down at the sight of both of your fluids leaking out of you, groaning at the sight, “fuck, you’re perfect,” his head feels dizzy as he catches your lips again, biting softly against your bottom lip before pulling away again. “let me clean you up,” jake presses a final kiss against your lips, resisting the urge to slip his tongue down your throat as far as it can reach.

he returns shortly with a wet cloth from the en suite bathroom, manhandling you to sit further up against the pillows before wiping you down, getting the cum out of your gaping hole. he returns to the bathroom, wiping himself off before tugging his jeans back onto his hips and tossing the washcloth in the trash. whatever frat brother this room belongs to certainly won’t be missing that…

you stare up at the ceiling, panting and wiping the sweat from your forehead. “fuck.”

“fuck what? fuck you? i just did,” he argues, grabbing your torn panties from wherever they landed in the room and pocketing them discreetly.

“shut up, sim,” you cover your eyes with your arm, refusing to look at him.

“hey, look at me,” jake pries your arm off and your eyes open slowly, the sight of him with his post sex glow knocking the wind out of you. “you okay?” his question is sincere, his gaze on you doubly so. you nod lightly, a small smile taking over your features, “good.”

“can’t believe you ripped my panties…” you grumble, sitting up slightly to look for your shirt and bra. jake’s hands grip your tits absentmindedly, “i’m not a fucking stressball, jake!” jake just laughs, pinching one of your nipples in retaliation, watching the nearly silent moan that leaves your perfect pink lips. “fuck, don’t do that again unless you want another round.”

he perks up at the words, “you really mean that?”

“i–”

a loud pounding on the door startles both of you, “open the fuck up!”

you scramble to grab your bra and shirt, shoving them back on as jake wills his slowly rising dick to lower once more. he glances at you and you nod at him. jake unlocks the door and swings it open, meeting the eyes of a very tall, very angry man.

“get the fuck out, both of you,” he booms and the two of you scurry out quickly, a small giggle escaping your lips at the sight of his bright red, angry face.

“he was gonna kick your ass, jake…” you tell him as the two of you rush down the hallway, unknowingly in the opposite direction of the living room.

“would’ve been worth it,” jake smirks, stopping and gripping your hips lightly, the intimacy of his thumbs rubbing on your bare skin making your head spin, “your pussy is heaven.”

you smile, small and subtle, eyes wide, “not mad at me anymore?”

he shakes his lightly, “could never really be mad at you.” jake offers you a coy smile.

“doesn’t seem like it,” you argue, smile slipping from your features the tiniest bit. “well… every time you make me mad i can just fuck you like that again. is that what you want, pretty girl?”

your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, “is that what you want, jake?” he nods slightly, “i’ll fuck you whenever and where ever you want if you’ll let me, baby. no strings attached.”

your heart drops at those three little words leaving his lips, hope of jake reciprocating your feeling sinking deeper into the abyss that clouds your mind most days. his offer is a glimmer of hope, your brain reeling to feel him like that again, even if he’s ‘fucking the attitude’ out of you over and over. you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” you half-lie, continuing to shield your true feelings from him.

“just promise not to fuck any of my friends… you’re mine now.” you nod, heart fluttering at the implication of being jake’s, and the sudden possessiveness he’s now displaying.

jake’s grin grows, pulling you in by your hips for a frantic kiss, pushing his tongue past the expanse of your lips, exploring your mouth with need. you sink into his hold, stomach fluttering at the feeling of one of his hands reaching your ass, squeezing it in his large palm. you groan against his plush lips, allowing him to slip his tongue further down your throat.

“oh my god–” a shrill voice screeching from behind you has you pulling away from jake, seeing sunoo standing there, his hand now covering his eyes, “i’m so sorry, i– jay just told me to round everyone up for cake.” he apologizes and promptly rushes back to the living room.

“don’t worry,” jake whispers, “i can make sure sunoo doesn’t tell a soul, say the word and it’ll be our little secret, angel.”

you nod slightly, staring up at him with wide eyes, “thank you, jake.”

“anything you need and i’ll make it happen,” he promises, giving your ass one last squeeze and a small smack before guiding you forward, “go join the party, i’ll be there in a minute.”

“where have you been, dude?” heeseung questions jake after the cake is cut and shared, prompting the shorter man to shake his head. “nowhere important.” he can see the hidden smile on jake’s face as heeseung watches him, smirking knowingly as he catches your eye in the crowd where you’re talking to riki and waves you over. you excuse yourself and approach the two of them, trying to hide the blush in your cheeks when you glance at jake.

“hi, y/n,” heeseung smiles, “wish you were here earlier, i kicked the birthday boy’s ass in beer pong. it was quite the show.”

you return his smile, “sorry i missed it,” you apologize sincerely, looking down at your plate as you break off another piece of cake to eat. heeseung glances at jake, the smirk still covering his lips. heeseung takes in the way the tips of jake’s ears are turning red as he watches you place a piece of cake in your mouth. “nowhere important, right?” his low tone misses your ears as you munch happily on the vanilla treat.

shit.

jake smacks the back of his head, shooting daggers at his best friend as he whispers, “shut up.”

heeseung leans over to speak into jake’s ear, “just don’t break her heart, jakey boy.”

things are normal between you and jake during the classes you share, for the most part. you can’t stop staring, watching jake and zoning out as your professors drone on about whatever topic you’re covering during the period. you watch his eyes, beautiful and brown, as they stare forward, glancing to meet your gaze every once in a while. you watch his lips, perfectly plump and pink, which tug into a smirk every time jake catches you staring, biting down on his bottom lip at the sight of you watching him.

you take in the overwhelming presence of him, your nerves running in overdrive since the night before, knowing how absolutely stuffed he makes you feel, how jake’s big hands burn where ever they touch, leaving you yearning to be constantly held by him and his soft palms. his hair urges to have a hand run through it, dark and falling across his face in a satisfying way, framing his forehead delicately.

everything about the man beside you overwhelms you, and you can’t seem to look away.

god, you’re fucked.

“what the hell is going on between you and jake?” jay questions as you approach him, nearly falling into him as you try to walk around despite the slight buzz filling your bloodstream.

“jongseong, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, grabbing a seltzer from the fridge and cracking it open, not hesitating to take a few gulps before returning your gaze to him. his eyebrow is quirked up when you look at him again, “you’ve never called me by my government name,” jay challenges, smirking with a knowing look.

“shut up,” you move to cover his mouth, to which he swats your hand away easily, his tolerance much higher than yours. “no,” he argues grabbing your wrist as you try to smack him, “i wanna know.”

you narrow your eyes at him, an action he sees right through, knowing you’re not actually angry seeing the blush growing on your cheeks, “nothing is going on between me and jake.”

“no, there’s something there,” jay tells you, “are you two fucking?”

you nearly spit your sip of seltzer out, coughing for a moment as he hits your back lightly, concern washing over jay’s sharp features. “jesus christ, y/n, don’t die in the frat house, none of these idiots here would know how to help you.”

you shake your head, breathing returning to normal, “jay, we’re not fucking.”

“you’re lying,” jay cracks a knowing smile, laughing lightly, “anyone with eyeballs is able to see there’s something there.”

your resolve begins to crumble, the alcohol seeming to take over your brain more and more, “i– i don’t know what we’re doing…” you shake your head lightly, “we… we fucked on your birthday,” you relinquish. “i… i don’t know how he feels about me, jay.” you hear a noise escape your throat, one that sounds far too vulnerable, and you chase the sound with another swig from the can in your hand. “i try not to think about feelings that much, honestly, they’re so overwhelming.”

jay laughs, “yeah… me neither, don’t worry,” he clinks his solo cup against your can and you both take a sip, “who made the first move?”

“jay!” you shove him, “stop asking so many damn questions!”

“tell her not to shove me like that, jake,” jay says, watching you with satisfaction as your eyes go wide and you whip around to see jake approaching the two of you.

“don’t hit jay, princess, he has weak skin,” jake tells you, to which jay retorts with “fuck you, sim, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

princess?

well that’s a new one… all of these new nicknames jake has given you since he fucked you have been driving your head crazy, less than platonic feelings swelling inside your tiny, drunk brain as you stare up at the man who grabs a water from the fridge.

“i’m on no one’s side here,” jake argues, twisting the cap off and taking a sip of water. you watch his throat suck the liquid down, adam’s apple bobbing. your body buzzes in response to the small action, stopping yourself from reaching out and running a finger, or your tongue, over the expanse of his throat.

jay tucks a finger under your chin, pushing upwards to make your jaw return to the rest of your face. you smack him on the chest, “don’t touch me, jongseong,” you warn, trying to ignore the fact that you were nearly drooling over jake right in front of him.

“you wanted him to see you drooling, then?” jay counters, voice low enough for jake to miss it.

“shut the hell up,” you ignore his words, eyes returning to jake who is watching you expectantly.

“i’ll be back,” jay exits the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit room among the various bottles of liquor lining the island and fridge.

“hi, gorgeous,” jake invades your space, pushing you backwards until your back is pressed against the edge of the cold granite countertop.

“jake!” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away, “are you trying to make sure people see us like this?!” jake wraps a hand around you, his palm splayed against your upper back, pressing you closer to him.

“maybe.”

you shake your head, watching his eyes darken as he watches you, “did you have fun talking to jay, baby?”

“jake, i’m not going to fuck him, so don’t even start getting mad,” you warn.

“i know pretty, i’m the only one who gets to see you like that, aren’t i?” your silence paired with flushed cheeks gives jake the answer he’s searching for, grinning in response. “good.”

“meet me in the bathroom at the end of the hall in two minutes,” he whispers into your ear before departing from the kitchen, the words making you squish your legs together. you wait with bated breath, watching as the clock on the microwave ticks to the next minute. fuck it, you mumble before setting your drink down and following him, knocking softly on the door before jake tugs you inside.

“hmm, eager, are we?” jake teases, locking the door and pulling you against him by your waist as he leans against the bathroom counter. “couldn’t wait any longer, could you?” you shake your head, words failing you as your face sits desperately close to his, desire swirling beneath your skin. “my obedient girl.”

“wanna suck your dick,” you beg, jake groaning and leaning his head back at your admission, “fuck, pretty, you can’t just say shit like that,” he pushes you down onto your knees, watching in awe as you instantly begin to fumble with his pants, tugging them down. you watch with wide eyes at the sight of his half hard dick sitting beneath his boxers, placing a kiss against the length through the fabric.

“don’t tease me, pretty girl,” jake warns, his tone conveying all the punishments you’d receive for disobeying him. “yes, sir,” you reply, the words going straight to jake’s cock as it hardens in your grasp. “say that again,” he groans, watching your tiny hand as you’re barely able to wrap all the way around his girth.

“say what again? sir?” you watch his cock twitch in your hand, the sight bringing a smirk to your face, kitten licking his tip before placing a delicate kiss on his slit. “you’re so big, sir, i don’t know if you’re gonna fit in my mouth…” you look up at him, blinking your eyes innocently.

you watch as his eyes darken at your actions, “i’ll make it fit, angel,” he presses on the back of your head, guiding you to take his length in your mouth. you slide down, his long cock pressing into the back of your throat harshly, the girth of it stretching your mouth out. “fuck, look at you– you were made to take my cock like this.” jake groans as he watches you suck him in, “my cock.” he reiterates and you nod around his length, continuing to bob up and down before jake takes control, fucking your face.

you begin to drool around his length as you let him use your mouth for his own pleasure, “fuck, baby, taking me so well– letting me fuck your throat like this, you’d let me do anything to this perfect body, wouldn’t you?” he doesn’t need a reply, already knowing the answer as he admires the way your lips stretch around his length, the sight stirring a feeling deep in his stomach. jake thinks you look gorgeous like this, gazing up at him with wide eyes and a hungry gaze, somehow taking his cock deeper every time.

his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly as jake fucks your face, chasing his high. you keep your mouth slacked, his girth and length making you feel completely stuffed, “look at these tits,” jake watches your tits bounce beneath your tank top, “fuck, you’re perfect,” jake groans as you reach down and squeeze his balls with one of your hands, the other gripping his thigh to keep yourself upright as you sit back on your haunches.

“i’m gonna cum down that gorgeous throat,” jake babbles, even his mindless near-orgasm ramblings sound like music to your ears. he yanks you back and forth along his length a few more times before shoving your face against his pelvic bone, nose smushing against the space right above the base of his dick. you groan at the feeling of his cum hitting the back of your throat, “take it all like the dirty slut you are,” jake commands, pulling away from your mouth slowly after his balls are empty, watching you with a lazy gaze. “swallow.” you follow his instructions promptly, gulping down before sticking your tongue out for him to examine, the sight nearly making him hard again. “good fucking girl,” he praises you, tugging you up off of your knees to meet your lips in a searing kiss.

you groan realizing jake is tasting himself on your lips, the fact not seeming to bother the man as he pushes his tongue into your mouth hungrily, large hands holding your face possessively. “mine,” he whispers against your lips, feeling as you nod in response. “thank you, baby.” he presses one last, gentle kiss against your waiting lips as he tucks himself back into his jeans. “let me make you feel good, too.”

you shake your head, resting both of your hands on his chest, a yawn rising from deep in your belly, “i’m okay, jakey,” you offer him a smile, “tired all of a sudden.”

“come on, i’ll take you home.”

“i missed you,” wonyoung smiles as the two of you sit together in the library, “feels like that damn flu took me out for fifty years,” she exaggerates, giggling lightly as she sips on her coffee through a small blue straw.

“i know. you’ve missed… a lot.” you cover your face, embarrassment already heating your cheeks. “i… jake and i are sleeping together.”

wonyoung squeals and you glance around worryingly, watching as other students glare at the two of you. you smile in apology, turning to wonyoung and smacking her arm, to which she exclaims a small, “ow!”

“why are you hitting me? this is so exciting!” she whisper yells.

you shake your head, “i mean, yeah it’s exciting, kind of…” you sigh before meeting her gaze, “he doesn’t… it’s… he made it clear that this is a no strings attached kind of situation.”

wonyoung’s eyes go wide, “you’re lying!” you shake your head as her expression shows how much of a hard time she is having trying to process this information. “i– and you agreed to that?”

you nod, shame dusting your face and ears in a deep pink hue, “i just… i couldn’t say no, he had just finished fucking the brains out of my skull, and i think i’m just desperate to have him around in any way that i can… even if it means hurting myself in the process.”

“my poor y/nnie… he still doesn’t know you like him?” you shake your head, to which wonyoung sighs, “it’s been so long, why don’t you just tell him? what’s the worst that could happen?”

“you know exactly what could happen, wony. i could fuck up years of a friendly-ish relationship, and double fuck up the situation we have now. feelings just get in the way of everything.”

wonyoung places her hand atop yours on the table, rubbing the back of your hand in a soothing motion, “well, whatever you decide, it will all turn out okay. i promise. i don’t think jake would ever hurt you on purpose.”

you inhale deeply at the thought of jake caring about you on more than a surface level. “don’t say that, don’t get my hopes up… it’s just gonna hurt more when everything ends up exploding in my face.”

you don’t know how jake convinced you to go to the library with him, citing something about how you’ve been sucking in class these days and he needed to make sure you were studying so that he still had someone to compete against. which was a lie, you were doing just fine in class recently.

you’re absolutely trying to study, but feeling jake beside you makes it an impossible feat. your eyes skim over the digital textbook on your laptop in front of you as jake zones out at random areas of the room, every once in a while his eyes landing on you as he stares for a beat before allowing his eyes to wander around the room once more.

jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as the two of you sit side by side, tapping a pattern on his jeans as he struggles to focus. you eye him up with a confused stare, “what is it?”

jake pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, the sight sending heat straight to your core. “you don’t wanna know, baby.”

his response has a strange bout of confidence sprouting inside your tummy. your hand rises to meet him, rubbing and squeezing on his inner thigh, scarily close to his dick that’s getting harder by the second, “you don’t wanna do that, angel.” jake warns, watching you with a dark gaze. you can see the lust fluttering through his irises, dark and intoxicatingly addictive. you move up to his clothed bulge, giving him a feather light squeeze. jake bites back a groan, his head tipping back as his eyes flutter shut in an attempt to keep his composure. he leans over to whisper in your ear. you can feel his breath on your neck sending shivers up your spine.

“stop, or i’ll bend you over this table right now and fuck you in front of everyone here.”

you gasp in response, grinning as you watch him with a mischievous look in your eye, one that he’s come to quickly recognize since agreeing to your… special relationship.

jake pulls back, his stare darker than moments before and you feel yourself falling into his brown eyes, pupils wide and staring at you as lust dances across his irises. “last chance to back out, angel.”

you shake your head lightly before jake rises, packing both bags in a hurry, tugging you out of the library and heading to your apartment building. “your apartment better be empty, or else wonyoung might get a free show.”

“oh my god, jake,” you’re barely able to keep up with him as he drags you along with him, nearly stumbling over your own feet to keep up. you enter your lobby, leading him to your first floor room and unlocking the door hastily. the moment he’s inside the foyer of your apartment, jake is shoving you up against the door, his lips finding yours instantly. “trying to work me up in front of everyone, baby?” he purrs, one hand cupping your face gently while the other has a searing grip on your hips. every spot he touches burns, watching him with affection in your gaze. “too needy to wait until later, huh?”

you nod dumbly, covering the hand against your cheek with your own, nuzzling against it as you try to hide your growing shame at being so insatiable that you couldn’t even be in public with him for more than thirty minutes before jumping his bones.

“oh, my pretty girl’s all shy now that we’re home? what happened to that brat attitude from before?” jake kisses the back of his teeth before placing a closed mouth kiss on your pouty lips. you hide from his gaze, embarrassed at your bratty behavior from before. “‘m sorry, sir.”

jake nearly moans hearing you use the name he heard for the first time just days before in the bathroom when you sucked his soul out through his dick. he pulls you close in another passionate, messy kiss. “yeah? baby’s sorry?” you nod, watching him with wide, innocent eyes, not seeing the wheels turning in his head as he watches your tiny figure with glee.

jake walks you through the hallway, lips wandering and planting kisses on every bit of exposed skin on your upper half. you lead him to your door, twisting the handle quickly before stumbling inside. jake shuts the door with his foot as he backs you up onto your bed. “i think my baby deserves a punishment.”

jake presses further against your lips, his hands sliding up your frame to hold your tits gently, “could play with these all day,” he mumbles, kneading them in his large hands. you kiss him back slowly, feeling the tension from the past few days dissipate the further he pulls you in, losing yourself in the feeling of his soft lips dancing against yours.

jake smiles as he gives each breast one final squeeze before pulling your sweatshirt over your head, “had i known you were bare under here, baby…” jake sucks harshly on your nipple, your back arching up against his mouth, begging for more.

“you’re lucky i didn’t bend you over that table,” he bites at your breast, leaving a teeth mark on the side of the plump flesh. “everyone would learn fast who you belong to, wouldn’t they?”

you nod, moaning out as he continues his onslaught against your nipple, sucking and biting with fervor, his cock standing tall and proud in his sweatpants.

“you wore those on purpose,” you squeak out between loud moans.

“what? these?” jake motions to the gray sweatpants covering his strong legs, “didn’t know they’d affect you so much, would’ve worn them way sooner if i knew you’d pounce on me like the little slut you are.” he guides your hand to the crotch of his pants, allowing you to squeeze his length through the fabric of his sweats. more wetness gushes out of you at the feeling of the weight of his member, knowing all the damage he can do to you with it. “my little slut, isn’t that right?” you nod diligently, rubbing up and down on his length, trying to rile him up.

jake halts your actions, “naughty whore, can’t even be patient,” he scolds, leading your hand to dip under his waistband. you gasp at the feeling of him not wearing any boxers, allowing you to hold him in your hand, warmth spreading through your body as you jack him off lazily.

jake pulls his sweats down just below the base of his dick and it springs free, hard and ready for you. “fuck–” you groan, watching closely as your hand continues its diligent motions. “love your cock, sir.”

“i know you do, baby,” jake pets your hair gently, “such a good little cock slut, always ready to take me,” he dips his other hand beneath the waistband of your sweats, pushing his hands through your folds. “already this wet and i’ve barely even touched you.”

“just for you,” you groan as he dips one finger inside, pumping roughly, searching for that spongy spot inside of you. jake slips another finger inside, his movements quickening as he listens for the gorgeous noises he loves to hear spill from your lips.

“pull these down,” jake commands and you use your free hand to tug your pants and panties down and off your legs. jake can feel himself salivating at the sight of your gorgeous pussy, slipping a third finger inside next to the other two. he buries them knuckle deep before pulling out, repeating his actions over and over as he watches your facial expressions convey the pleasure he’s bringing you. “fuck, look at you, weak for me and i’m only using my fingers,” the commanding tone in his voice makes you shiver, eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze, dark and swimming with lust. “fuck, jake–” you groan as you feel his fingers begin to reach deeper, your pussy nearly swallowing his hand to the knuckles each time.

“look at how i’ve stretched this tiny pussy out,” jake chuckles, his voice rumbling with need as he glances down at his cock where you’ve halted your handjob, back arching off the bed. he removes his fingers promptly, causing you to whine loudly.

“sir, please–” you plead, eyes brimming with tears, “was so close! i’ll be a good girl!”

jake watches you with amusement, the sight of you whimpering beneath him forcing his brain into overdrive, “good girls do as they’re told. keep jacking me off and if you stop again i won’t let you cum.” you nod at his words, resuming your actions, groaning as you pay extra attention to his leaky red tip, squeezing harder every time you reach the top.

jake dips three fingers back inside you, watching as you squeak out and start panting as he hits a particular spongy spot inside of you. jackpot.

he assaults this spot, other hand snaking down to rub mercilessly at your clit. jake groans as your grip on him becomes tighter as you near your high, “gonna make a mess on my fingers like the good girl you are?”

you nod quickly, mouth hanging slack with your tongue lolling out as you squeak at every jab against your g-spot. “f– f– u– uck–” you scream out between thrusts, your pace on his dick speeding up as you approach the edge.

with one particularly tight yank of his dick and a swipe over his tip, jake cums hard, liquid spurting out onto your chest and some on your gaping hole. he stills his actions for a moment before coating fingers on both of his hands with his seed. you feel his cum inside you, tears flowing at the onslaught of varying sensations on you at once. his other hand returns to your clit, his lips coming to suck on it as he rubs roughly, while still fucking you with his long, slender fingers.

“ahh!–” you scream out, back arching off the bed as the coil inside you threatens to snap, “fuck! jake–” a slap against your clit followed by a harsh suck of the hardened bud causes you to tumble past your precipice, all of your limbs stilling as jake never halts his actions. he pulls away from your clit to look down. the sight of you cumming, liquid spilling everywhere makes his cock jump, “fuuuuuck, baby,” he continues ramming his fingers inside of you with expert precision, “such a messy girl.”

his words bring a burning sensation to your cheeks, trying to scramble away from jake as he overstimulates you heavily, never ceasing his actions, “jake, please–”

“you’ve got one more in you, baby,” jake tells you, “let jake help you.”

jake removes his fingers before sliding home, his thick cock reaching impossibly deep inside you instantly, sucking him in with familiarity and a still present stretch from the sheer size of him. “fuck, your pussy is heaven sent, angel,” jake’s need overtakes him, jackhammering inside of you harshly, your body jerking with each thrust inside of your already abused hole. he snakes a hand around, holding your asscheeks apart with both hands, lightly tracing a finger around the rim of your asshole. “ahh!–” you gasp at the intrusion, “jake!–”

“this belongs to me, too,” jake tells you, slowly pushing the pad of his finger past your puckered ring, “jake!” you scream, eyes rolling back at the feeling of being double stuffed, even with just a bit of his finger breaching your ass.

“i knew you’d be a slut for anal,” jake whispers as his pounding continues, finger slowly pushing further in through your backdoor, “i’ll hit it from the back next time, how about that, my dirty girl?”

you shake your head, your body’s reaction saying the opposite as jake starts to pump his finger in and out of your tight hole in rhythm with the way his cock is pounding your pussy. “moremoremore!”

“yeah baby? more?” jake shoves his finger further, picking up speed in both holes, nearly cumming seeing the bruise already forming on your plush breast from the searing bite he gave it earlier, the imprint of his teeth visible even from a distance. jake uses his free hand to squeeze your throat tightly, “greedy little cock slut always needs more, can’t just take what she’s given.”

your vision starts to go white from the pressure on your windpipe combined with jake’s dick hitting your spongy spot and his finger pumping knuckle deep into your ass, knowing he’s the only one who’s ever been there. your eyes roll back into your head as you cum, the experience feeling different from any other time you’ve orgasmed.

“you trying to make me cum right now? squirting on me like that, baby?” more liquid continues to gush out of your hole, the wetness on jake’s dick making him groan loudly. he pulls his finger from your ass when the liquid is done streaming from your weeping cunt, smacking your ass harshly and groping at your cheek. “next time, i’m fucking this ass.” he gives you another rough smack, this time on the opposite side, before pulling out of you. “right now? i’m gonna fuck these tits.” jake crawls up your body sliding his dick between your plush mounds of flesh, squeezing them tight around his length. “look at you, letting me use this fucking perfect body however i need,” jake groans, pinching your nipple with one of his hands as he pumps in and out, eyes trained on the way your tits nearly completely cover his length. he chases his high, knowing you’re not anticipating his next actions, your eyes fighting to stay open as he uses you as he pleases.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” jake whispers, teetering on the edge of cumming before he slides away from your tits, shoving his length back into your gaping pussy. a few pumps is all it takes before he’s spilling inside of you, cum hitting your walls in long spurts and filling your pussy, dripping out of you and landing on the sheets beneath you. jake fucks you through his orgasm, pushing two fingers into your mouth before rubbing your abused clit with precision.

“no!– no more, jake!–” you try to push him away, overstimulation tingling around your body after two mind blowing orgasms have already rendered you utterly exhausted.

“your body’s telling me otherwise,” jake smirks, feeling your pussy tighten around him with every pump of his cock and flick of your hardened nub, “gonna give you one more, angel. you can do it.”

you argue against him, the little whimpers leaving your mouth betraying your actions. you scream loudly as the wave of pleasure washes over you, and still jake fucks you through it, his movements never ceasing. you still as it wrecks through you, orgasm finally subsiding as jake pulls out of you slowly, hands running up the sides of your body gently, holding you like you’ll break if he presses too hard. he traces the curves of your body with admiration, wondering how he got so fucking lucky to have you beneath him.

“look at my pretty girl.” he smiles as he watches you return to the land of the living, your mind spinning after three orgasms. jake leans over your body, placing gentle kisses all over your face and neck, littering your body with affection. “did so good for me, angel. such a good girl.” you smile as his words register in your ears, the ringing in them finally leaving as your body returns to its natural state of relaxation.

“no more, please,” you beg.

jake nods, offering you a smile, one that neither of you realize has hidden feelings brewing behind it. “no more, promise. my baby did so good.” he stands on the side of the bed, picking you up and leading you to the bathroom. jake sits you on the counter and starts running water, testing the temperature for you before corking the tub and watching it fill with perfectly hot water.

“mmm– jakey,” you mumble.

he turns to you, standing between your legs, rubbing circles on your kneecaps as he watches your drooping eyes try to focus on his face. “still with me, angel?” you nod lightly as he places a kiss on your forehead. “good, gonna get you all cleaned up and then we’ll get some sleep, okay?” you nod again.

jake sits there for a moment, memorizing the lines of your face and the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. he turns and stops the water from running. “come here, beautiful,” jake lifts you up again and places you into the tub. you sit there, mind still fuzzy, watching the ceiling lights reflect against the surface of the water. jake tugs his shirt off before sliding in behind you, letting your back rest against his chest.

jake grabs your body wash, lathering it between his hands before he gently spreads the bubbles across your body, diligently scrubbing your tired body clean.

“thank you,” you mumble, leaning the crown of your head back against his chest to look up at him, “of course, angel.” he kisses your forehead and you smile at the action, feeling him rinsing the soap from your skin before your eyes flutter shut for a moment.

the sight of you falling asleep against jake gives him a warm feeling in his stomach.

he washes up quickly, trying to not disturb your sleeping form. jake uncorks the bath and stands, reaching for the nearby towel before helping you to your feet. he dries himself quickly after realizing there’s only one towel, and then he’s wrapping you in it and guiding you to step out of the tub, your eyes still conveying how tired you are. jake tugs on his sweats before stepping back into your bedroom, digging through your drawers for clean clothes. he finds a suitable sleep set and a clean pair of panties before returning to your exhausted form standing still in the bathroom, leaning against the countertop.

“alright pretty,” he guides your legs to step into your panties, pulling them up your legs slowly before following them with a pair of shorts, “did so good for me, baby.” he reassures your tired mind, placing a gentle kiss on your hip after pulling the shorts up to rest on your waist.

jake finishes drying off your top half before tugging the shirt he picked out over your frame, helping you get your arms into the holes. once you’re fully dressed, he watches you with an unknown emotion stirring deep inside his body. “nap time,” he offers you a smile before leading you back to your bed, making note to wash your cum covered sheets later once the two of you wake up again. he lays you down on top of your comforter to keep a barrier between the stained sheets and your freshly washed body, crossing the room to grab a throw blanket and placing it on top of you. jake sneaks in behind you, wrapping his arms around your center and resting his head on your shoulder, breathing in your fresh scent, a smell that brings a sense of peace to his otherwise busy mind.

“get some sleep,” jake kisses your cheek then your shoulder before returning his head to the place it feels most comfortable.

“goodnight, angel.”

you slide through the front door of the frat house the next day, watching as yet another party unfolds before your eyes. you glance around, looking for heeseung or jay, or even sunghoon, knowing jake would reveal himself later in the evening when he got tired of watching you walk around in the tiniest skirt known to man, one you wore purposely just to rile him up.

you pass by a few aquaintances as you continue your search, greeting them kindly, stopping for small talk. the hallways reveal none of the men you’re looking for as you glance down the endless expanse of random doors that line the walls. you stand at the bottom of the stairs, about to head up before you see two people nearly fucking on the top of the steps, causing you to turn around and head back towards the living room.

you walk out into the backyard, finding sunghoon talking with someone near the side of the house, beginning to approach them before you stop. their hushed voices reach your ears as a distinct accent hits you.

“there’s no way you don’t like her, man, i’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“sunghoon,” jake warns, “i don’t like y/n, bro. she means nothing to me, seriously. drop it.”

you feel your heart shatter beneath your ribcage, pieces scattering out and stabbing themselves into your organs as you step back into the house, bumping into someone who catches you before you can tumble to the ground.

“y/n, you okay?” heeseung asks as he watches you, searching your face.

“i– i’m fine heeseung,” you try to wrestle from his hold, “please let me go,” you whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks pathetically, trying to hide your embarrassed face from the tall man.

heeseung drags you into the kitchen, thankfully empty of jay’s usual presence, and he lifts you to sit you down on the counter, the cold surface against your bare legs grounding you the slightest bit. “what’s wrong? do i need to call wonyoung?”

you shake your head, burying your face in your hands, sobs racking your entire body. “i’m so stupid,” you explain between tears, “i shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, i really didn’t mean to, but i heard jake talking about me with sunghoon and i–” you whimper audibly, wiping your eyes with your forearm as you look up at heeseung, who is watching you closely. “i like him so much, heeseung, i have for so long, and he said i didn’t even mean anything to him, and now i feel so fucking embarrassed!” you ramble, your mind feeling fuzzy as you try to fight the tears continuing to tumble down your cheeks, “ever since jay’s birthday party he’s been treating me different, and sometimes i guess i had tricked myself into thinking he might like me back… he– he says the sweetest things whenever we have sex, and treats me so gentle after and calls me all these nicknames… i guess he just says that shit to every girl he manages to get in his bed,” your crying has slowed, anger beginning to mix with sadness as your emotions shift slightly.

“i can’t believe i actually went along with his dumb idea,” you scold yourself, “i’m seriously so stupid.”

you can’t believe you wanted so desperately for jake to return your feelings that you let him use you, believing that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did. and he shoved your hope right back in your face just to taunt you with it.

god, this is useless.

you’re useless, your brain reminds you.

maybe jake had a point in using you for his own pleasure. he has never once shown you any romantic interest before you agreed to a change in your relationship dynamic, so why would anything change suddenly at the drop of a hat?

why would you think you’d ever be enough for him?

you shake your head, eyes brimming with more tears at the memory of allowing him to use you without question, wondering if you even meant anything at all to jake, sexually or otherwise. how had your crush gotten so bad that you’d let a man devour you and rip you apart just to leave you to pick up the pieces yourself? the sim jaeyun you found yourself crushing on was leagues different than the man you just overheard, and you felt your stomach sink at the thought of the boy you once knew becoming barely recognizable.

“y/n,” heeseung’s voice brings you out of the fog, “y/n, it’s okay, you’re not stupid.” he wraps you in a tight hug, the tears returning as you soak the shoulder of his shirt. “jake’s stupid if he doesn’t realize what a catch you are, pretty.” he rubs your back gently.

“everything okay in here?”

“not now,” heeseung attempts to shoo jake away, to which the australian boy stands still, watching with confusion. “jake, seriously, go away.”

heeseung stumbles as jake shoves him lightly, “what the fuck did you do, man!”

“what you should be asking is what the fuck did you do, jake,” heeseung glares at him, watching his best friend nearly fuck up everything he doesn’t know he’s been longing for this whole time.

jake lets heeseung’s words slip past him, turning to you, eyes lined with concern, “you okay?”

you watch jake, tears still slowly sliding down your red cheeks, shaking your head, “leave me alone, sim.” the venom in your tone tears at his heart, watery gaze watching him with hatred brewing in his heart, “don’t pretend like you care about me.”

“i–”

“jake, leave before something worse happens,” heeseung advises him, holding back the words he actually wants to say to his helplessly blind and stupid best friend. jake obeys, walking slowly out of the kitchen with one last glance at you, the sight of you crying into heeseung’s hold nearly breaking him in two.

oh fuck.

the tidal wave of emotions hits jake all at once, feelings he’s unknowingly denied since you first met all those years ago beginning to settle into his gaze, watching you with hurt at the way you pushed him away with your words.

heeseung pulls jay into the kitchen as he’s walking by, instructing him to take care of you. heeseung approaches jake, who is standing right outside the kitchen and tugs him further into the house, away from you and your sad eyes. “jake, what the fuck dude!”

“i didn’t do anything!” he fights back.

“why the hell would you say that shit about her to hoon!”

realization dawns on him, bringing jake to rub a tired hand against his face, “god, she heard me, didn’t she?” jake asks sheepishly, to which heeseung hits him in the shoulder, saying “yes, you idiot!”

“fuck…” jake sighs deeply, looking up at heeseung, “i really fucked up, didn’t i?”

“yes, dummy!”

jake pinches the bridge of his nose, biting his lower lip out of frustration, “if i was her i’d hate me right now.”

“did you actually mean all that shit you said?”

“i– i didn’t really think much about what we were doing, but hoon was grilling me and saying all this shit like he always does and i just wanted him to shut the hell up, he was overwhelming me with all his stupid questions,” jake shakes his head, frustration brewing in his stomach.

“you like her, don’t you?” jake doesn’t meet heeseung’s eyes, only nodding and sighing deeply, “i didn’t think i did, but seeing her push me away like that made me so sad, dude. i don’t want her to hate me…”

“sometimes you’re stupid, jake,” heeseung places his hands on his shoulders, “just go, man. sleep it off and give her some space. you broke her damn heart, dude.”

you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, glancing around before realizing you’re still in the frat house. “good morning, sunshine,” sunghoon smiles at you as he exits the bathroom, “about time you woke up.”

“sunghoon… what the hell happened last night?” your mind is running a mile a minute, praying you didn’t sleep with jake’s best friend.

“there was no funny business, don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he reassures you, “heeseung brought you here after you nearly cried yourself into a coma in the kitchen.”

you rub at your eyes, sighing loudly as the night’s events wash over you suddenly. “jake’s not here, is he?”

sunghoon shakes his head, “no, he’s not here, so don’t freak out.”

you sigh loudly, “are jay and heeseung here?” sunghoon nods in response, “yeah, jay’s probably cooking something up for you right now.”

“morning, sleeping beauty,” jay greets you as you stumble into the kitchen, the clothes against your skin meant for a much larger frame as you nearly trip over the extra fabric hanging off the bottom of your sweatpants, the legs too long for your shorter body. these must be heeseung’s…

“hi,” you return the greeting, sliding up to sit at a barstool at the island. “is… are you guys okay?”

“us?” jay questions, glancing back at you from his spot at the stove where he’s frying two eggs for you, “i should be asking how you are, y/n.”

“i– i don’t know, honestly. my head really hurts.” jay nods his head towards the end of the island, “heeseung left some ibuprofen out for you.”

you take it, mentally noting to thank him later. “how are you feeling about… everything you heard?” jay questions, trying to choose his words carefully.

“i– he really hurt me, jay.” jay can hear the sniffle in your voice, mentally cursing out his best friend for being so damn blind to his own feelings this whole time. “i don’t… i don’t think i’m gonna go to class today. i can’t face him right now.” your voice is small, your spirit broken from what you overheard last night, knowing all of this, all of you, everything the two of you experienced together and made each other feel, truly meant nothing to him.

“eat up,” jay presents your plate to you. “how’d you know how i like my eggs?”

jay shrugs, grinning, “lucky guess,” he lies easily, knowing now wouldn’t be the right time to tell you that jake gave all six of his close friends a rundown on your favorite and most hated foods after getting plastered one night a few weeks ago.

heeseung ends up driving you back to your apartment, despite protests that it’s close enough to walk. he drops you off, making you promise to eat lunch at the least.

you spend the day lying in bed, alternating between crying until you can feel your chest heaving and a dryness in your eyes from having already cried all the liquid out of your body, to taking intermittent naps, snuggling under your blanket, grasping it tightly for any semblance of stability.

of all the people he chose to hurt, it had to be you. you, the person who has been with him through many stages of life, competing closely with him and hiding your feelings from the first day that you met. the doe eyed boy you met all those years ago felt like a distant memory from the man who decided to control your life and mind, using you for his own gain and tossing you aside when he felt it was fitting.

oh the things you’d do to forget you ever met sim jaeyun.

the next day you drag yourself out of bed, attempting to at least look presentable before stumbling into class, walking to the back and sitting next to riki, not daring to even glance in jake’s direction. riki greets you with a slight nod of his head and you offer him a small smile, the most genuine one you can muster up, for him not forcing you to speak. you know your voice will betray you, and the minute you start speaking you’ll cry instantly.

jake can’t stop looking back at you, his heart breaking every time he sees the frown etched into your features, brows tugged down and lips curling into the opposite of what he wants to see. he tries to catch your gaze, but you avoid him completely, “can he stop looking back here,” you mumble, pulling a small chuckle from riki’s lips. “don’t pay him any mind, y/n.”

the class goes by agonizingly slow, each pointed glance in your direction from jake tearing the pieces of your heart further apart. you ignore him time after time until the professor dismisses you, and you turn to riki with pleading eyes. “can i… can i walk out with you?”

“of course,” riki’s kindness makes your gloomy day a little bit brighter as he gathers his things and leads you out of the classroom, using the door furthest from jake. jake watches you leave, sighing deeply, hoping you won’t avoid him forever.

you walk into your next class with jake a minute late, glancing around to see all the seats taken besides your usual one beside the man you’d like to see the least right now. you set your things down gently and take your seat, watching the professor as they drone on about the lesson. you will your brain to focus on the lecture, but the presence beside you is causing a thumping in your skull and a buzz in your bones. jake keeps stealing glances at your profile, watching and holding himself back from reaching out to touch you gently, to calm the leg that you’re shaking beneath your desk.

you spend the period zoning out, not even caring when the teacher hands out the tests from last week, a high score sitting atop your worksheet. jake watches as you pick the paper up, seeing that he’s lost to you again. the realization doesn’t bring him anger or a competitive drive today, no, it brings him an immense feeling of being lost. jake thinks he’s lost apart of himself when you started ignoring him, and he knows it’s his own fault, vowing to heeseung that he’d fix what he broke between the two of you

you leave the classroom as quickly as humanly possible, hoping to escape without jake catching you. “y/n, please, can we talk?” he questions after catching your wrist in his grasp in the hallway.

you shake your head, watching him with a teary gaze, unable to even squeak out all the things you want to say to him. you want to curse him for ever making you fall for him completely. you urge to reach out and pound your fists against his chest, knowing he’s not hurting the way you are. you want to cry in front of him, making him watch to see how he’s broken you down to the lowest version of yourself. but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of any of these reactions, knowing he’d love to see you suffering because of him, knowing he played you just the exact way he planned to.

you yank your hand away from his grip, the skin burning after you rip it from his grasp. you leave as fast as your exhausted, beat down body can carry you, opting to skip the rest of the day’s obligations.

“y/n, here,” wonyoung perches herself on the side of your bed, “i brought you some ramen, heeseung dropped it off for you, said it’s his favorite brand.” heeseung had omitted the fact that this brand is actually jake’s favorite and not his, the sneaky bastard. she smiles as she presents the bowl to you, with some fresh toppings she obviously adding sitting atop the broth and noodle mixture.

“thanks, wony,” you take a bite, groaning at the taste, “this is so good.”

“good,” she watches you eat with worried eyes, “how are you feeling?”

you swallow your bite before looking up at her, “a little better, i guess.”

wonyoung offers you a weak smile, knowing it’s killing her inside to see you going through this situation with jake. “are you going to your next class?” she questions, hoping you’ll say yes, knowing your grades will start to be affected if you keep skipping the way you have the past few days. she also knows all too well that no man is worth jeopardizing your future over, no matter how long you’ve liked him.

you nod, slurping up the bowl’s contents with speed, “yeah, my professor emailed and asked if i was okay, and i don’t want to worry her any further.”

wonyoung nods in approval at your response, “good. just ignore him the whole time, okay?” to which you nod, gulping down the rest of your broth.

you approach your next class feeling a bit better after eating the meal wonyoung so generously made for you, even if ramen is quick and easy to make, she really didn’t have to care for you the way she did time and time again.

you feel a tug on your arm as someone tugs you in the opposite direction of the place you were heading to, pulling the both of you inside an empty classroom and blocking the exit.

you look up to see jake watching you, his eyes less bright than they usually appear to be, the spark you see whenever he’s hellbent on beating you seemingly absent from his gaze.

“please don’t,” you beg him, not wanting to hear him gloat or whatever the hell he’s planning to do here.

“y/n, please,” jake begs, eyes searching your face for some kind of reassurance that you wouldn’t leave, “please, i need to apologize.”

“you don’t have anything to apologize for,” you lie straight through your teeth, “so can i please just leave?”

jake’s pleading voice is slowly breaking down your resolve, “please, can i at least explain?” when you don’t answer, he takes the opportunity to start laying his feelings out on the table.

“whatever you heard me say, i know it sounded horrible, but i didn’t mean it.”

“oh, so you didn’t mean that i meant nothing to you?” he winces at the words that you throw back in his face, knowing that was one of the worst things he could’ve said.

“no, i didn’t mean it,” jake tells you, gaze piercing yours, “i– i was stupid, y/n, you have to believe me. i only said that to get sunghoon to back off, of course i care about you. i’ve spent how many years by your side? and you think i would actually hate you?”

the words ring in your ears, making your head hurt as you continue to listen to him. “i’m so sorry, y/n, i really am. sunghoon wouldn’t leave me alone and i just wanted him to shut up for once.” jake rubs his hands over his face, breathing a deep sigh against his palms before shoving them back into his jacket pockets, gaze meeting yours again. “when we started messing around… i didn’t know how i felt… i thought it was just fun. but every time i saw you i felt weird, and i didn’t know what it meant, i figured it was normal because we’ve been rivals for so long and i’ve always felt this drive to be better than you. but it started feeling different… i started to just want to be around you all the time, whether we were fucking or not, and i kept denying it to everyone who would ask me.”

jake’s mind flashes back to the countless times sunghoon has harassed him, asking when he’s going to confess to you. “i don’t know when i realized it, but i like you, y/n. i guess i have this whole time, and i’m so sorry i made you think that i didn’t.” he resists the urge to reach out and hold your hand in his, knowing the physical touch would likely only bring him comfort, versus the intent being to ground you as well. “i… i really fucked up, i shouldn’t have asked you to be in a friends with benefits relationship, i should’ve known that’s not what you wanted. i’m sorry if you ever felt like i was using you, i… i’m sorry i didn’t realize my feelings sooner.”

jake’s speech knocks the wind out of you as you stare at him blankly, tears brewing in your eyes, “jake, i–” you mumble, mind swimming at his admission. “thank you for apologizing, i– i think i need some time, if that’s okay.” he nods quickly in response, the action warming you up inside.

“take all the time you need. what i just said is a lot, and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me. i just needed to tell you before i lost you forever.”

“i– i’ll talk to you later okay?” jake nods, moving out of the way of the door, watching you walk away. anxiety brews in his gut as he hopes with his entire being that you’ll forgive him, even though deep down he wonders if he even deserves an ounce of forgiveness.

jake concludes that he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, that he’s royally fucked up and he’s determined to fix what he’s broken between the two of you.

you let your emotions brew for a few days, jake choosing to give you space during class and every other time you find yourself near him. relief washes over you every time you see him and he doesn’t rush to your side, knowing the simple action would just further complicate the already confusing thoughts in your mind.

you’re still obviously hurt by what he said, jake’s words creating a hole in your heart feeling like you wasted so much time loving someone and hoping to be loved back, even agreeing to a relationship you knew you couldn’t handle without your emotions getting in the way somehow.

the sincerity of his apology and the fear in his eyes when he explained everything to you still remains in your mind, all the positive memories you have with jake sitting in the forefront of your consciousness. you are itching to forgive him, but the fear of him breaking your heart again rings through your mind with every passing thought.

you’ve made a decision in your head, praying it’s the right one, not wanting to get burned again.

“can i talk to you?”

jake nods his head, bidding his friend goodbye as he follows you through campus. you stop at a bench near the fountain by the engineering building, watching as the water spouts up in a gorgeous display, zoning out for a minute. jake waits patiently for you to speak as he takes a seat next to you.

“jake,” you turn to look at him, “i… i accept your apology.” jake’s eyes light up at your admission, “i know feelings are complicated, mine certainly are right now, i just– did you know the whole time how much i liked you?”

jake shakes his head, “no, y/n, i wouldn’t put you through that on purpose, i promise.”

you nod in response, watching your hands that are clasped together in your lap for a moment before looking back up at him. “i– do you really like me? you promise you’re not lying?”

jake nods, reaching out to take your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze, “no lies, i promise.”

“what… where do we go from here?”

jake thinks for a moment, not prepared for the question, before sucking in a breath and asking, “how about i take you out on a real date?”

he catches you off guard with his question, “yeah?” he nods, “yeah, pretty. i meant everything i said, i don’t want you to slip away when you mean so much to me… it just took me an embarrassingly long time to realize how absolutely infatuated with you i am.”

his last sentence makes you embarrassed and you attempt to hide your burning cheeks, knowing your ears are betraying you with the tips turning red. “okay, sim, you can take me on a date.” jake’s eyes sparkle at your agreement, relief crashing over his body in an overwhelming display. you smile at the way his eyes shine as he watches you, feeling contentment settle into your heart, as if he’s putting the broken pieces back together slowly, fixing what he accidentally broke inside you.

“jake, where are you taking me?” you question, brow quirked as the man you’ve wanted for so long stands before you, leaning against his sleek red car. the sight of him waiting so casually, eyes trained off at something in the distance, makes your heart flutter.

“hi, beautiful,” jake greets you, grabbing your hand and raising it above your head, guiding you to do a spin for him as he appreciates your outfit. “you look gorgeous, angel.”

“you don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” you smile at jake as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you inside. he steps over and takes his seat on the driver’s side, the engine revving to life with the press of a button. “where are we heading?"

jake uses his left hand to steer, the right resting on the gear shift as he takes the two of you off campus, being extra careful as his car now has precious cargo inside. “it’s a surprise,” the midday sun beams down on the two of you as he turns into a neighborhood. you watch his face, appreciating every feature that you’ve admired for years, heart swelling at the thought of the man in front of you reciprocating your feelings.

jake shifts the car into park after a short drive and you look around, taking in the surrounding area. a playground sits in front of you, a small forest sitting a ways behind it, tall trees towering over everything nearby. the sun still cascades through the leaves as jake opens your door, shutting it behind you as you step onto the asphalt of the parking lot surrounding you. he opens his small trunk, pulling a basket out and a small pink and white checkered blanket. you feel a buzz beneath your skin as your eyes sparkle, realizing jake has packed the two of you a picnic lunch for your first date.

jake leads you over to a small patch of grass behind the playground set, the spot having the greenest grass. you wonder if he picked this spot special for the two of you, the possibility of it making your heart soar. he lays the blanket down, flattening it out so no wrinkles are in sight before placing the basket on top and helping you sit down.

“don’t go thinking i’m some master chef now, okay? i had jay help me…” jake says, wanting to hide his face in embarrassment as he pokes fun at himself. you watch as he pulls a variety of dishes out, “but i made some stuff by myself, too!”

this feels strange, but seeing the usually confident and argumentative man you have fought against academically for all these years seemingly doubting himself? it is definitely a different sensation than the ones you’re used to. but the sight made your insides feel fuzzy, butterflies sprouting in your tummy, watching in real time as you feel yourself falling for him even more. “jake, this is lovely,” you place a hand on his arm, his movements halting in response as you reassure him, giving him a light squeeze. “you’re lovely. i’m flattered you did all of this for me.”

“i wanted you to see that i’m serious about this, about us.”

jake takes the plates and bowls out, handing you one, before setting the silverware down in the middle of the blanket. “here, we made some of my favorites and some foods i remember you mentioning over the years… i hope you still like them,” you can hear how nervous he is, “jake, seriously, stop freaking out. it’s just me,” you tell him as he opens one of the glass dishes revealing a bowl of homemade kimchi stew, a dish you know jake has loved for a long time.

“that doesn’t help me,” jake laughs a little at his own embarrassment and nerves, “that’s the whole reason why i’m so nervous… you’re you, and this is my one chance to show you how much i care about you.”

you watch as he opens the next dish, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, “jake,” you glance up, meeting his eyes as you nearly cry at the worried look in them, “i don’t remember the last time i even had these… thank you.”

“i remember you mentioned them sometime in sophomore year,” jake replies sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “holy shit, that makes me sound like such a creep.”

you shake your head, watching jake, “stop it, jake, seriously. i think it’s adorable that you remembered that from so long ago. it’s not weird or creepy!”

jake sees the sincerity in your gaze, letting out a breath of relief, “i… i really like you, seriously, i don’t want to mess up my one chance.”

you grab the sides of jake’s face and gently pull him towards you, capturing his lips in your own, hoping to wash away some of his worries with the action. you feel lighter as you kiss him, his plush, delicate lips feeling like heaven against your own. you missed kissing him, and kissing him now feels so… different. refreshingly so, knowing that the man you’re holding in your arms reciprocates your own feelings that you’ve pushed down and hid from the world for so long.

you pull away after a moment, resting your head against his, “you haven’t messed anything up, jake, okay?”

jake stares into your eyes, his emotions bubbling and growing beneath the surface, watching as he falls more in love with you the longer he watches your gorgeous irises stare back at him, ones that he wouldn’t mind getting lost in. “okay, y/n.” you seal your promise with another kiss, feeling him smile against your lips this time, knowing the man you’re sitting across from is the same one you fell for all those years ago. caring, kind, extremely driven, gorgeous, and above all, captivating in every way, his drive and need to succeed always pushing yourself to be the best version of yourself. and you know his drive to be the best has extended here, going above and beyond to impress you with a sentimental date, the concept of which makes you feel mushy inside.

time passes quickly, conversation and good food flowing between the two of you, giggles and stories being shared, feeling yourself fall further for him the longer you spent by his side. when the sky starts to darken with clouds and the threat of rain, you and jake pack quickly, rushing to the car when raindrops start to fall on your heads. jake drives you both back to campus, the ambience of the water falling on the hood of the car along with the low lull of the radio causing you to fall asleep. jake pulls into his usual parking spot outside his apartment building, picking you up in his arms and setting the picnic basket on your stomach, carrying you to his home, a small studio apartment on the second floor. after somehow unlocking the door without dropping you or waking you up, he sets the picnic basket on the counter before placing you in his bed, tucking you in under his freshly washed blanket. jake busies himself with putting leftovers away as you sleep before coming to join you, sneaking under the covers and spooning you.

jake places a small kiss against the back of your head, watching as your stomach rises and falls peacefully with each quiet breath you take. “sleep well, angel.”

“i haven’t told the guys yet,” jake’s statement shocks you as the two of you walk into the frat hand in hand, a bustling party happening around you. you couldn’t believe after three successful dates and jake asking you to be his girlfriend, that he has kept that from his friends for all that time. “i wanted to tell them together, so they couldn’t bully me.” he jokes, leading you through the house, looking for his three best friends.

you find the three of them standing at the end of a hallway, near the room where you and jake first hooked up. you blush at the sight, glancing up at your boyfriend who gives you a quick wink. “what’s happening in your pretty little head, angel?”

“nothing,” you smack his arm, attempting to push him forwards to meet his friends, “let’s go talk to them before you or i do something crazy.”

“crazy doesn’t necessarily mean bad, though,” jake teases you before relenting, walking towards his friends who all smile at the sight of the two of you.

“i told you so,” heeseung grins the widest of all before jay and sunghoon’s faces drop suddenly, “pay up, jayhoon.”

“stop fucking calling us that,” sunghoon shoves his friend’s shoulder before fishing a $50 bill out of his wallet, jay doing the same but with a $100. “jay you should just be my sugar daddy at this point,” heeseung smirks as he tucks the bills into the inside pocket of his jacket.

sunghoon scoffs at heeseung’s words, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “heejay will never be a thing, so keep dreaming.” jay teases before looking at you and jake again, watching as you lean your head against his arm as you continue to hold his hand. “glad you came to your senses, jakey boy… i told you it’d work out, didn’t i, y/n?”

“you didn’t say anything remotely close to those words, jay,” you argue, to which he shrugs, “well, i was going to but then you started hitting me.”

“you were playing twenty questions with me while i was in a crisis!”

“we’re actually… i asked y/n to be my girlfriend last week,” jake scratches the back of his head, “so expect to see her around a lot more.”

“ha!” sunghoon smacks heeseung’s shoulder, “pay up!” he sticks his hands out to the other two men, who promptly give him $20 each.

you watch as the money is exchanged, “how much betting on us did you guys do?”

heeseung smirks at the two of you, “a lot. it’s been happening for longer than either of you will ever know.”

“nobody expected jake to actually man up and ask you to be his girlfriend officially this soon except hoon,” jake smacks heeseung and jay at this admission as you realize the trio has known of your semi secret dating the entire time, “what the hell, guys!”

“doesn’t matter, because it all worked out, didn’t it, lovebirds?” heeseung watches you two with a pleased look on his face, “and i knew it would happen, it just took a little while for jake to get his head out of his ass.”

“be nice,” you scold heeseung, “he didn’t know, don’t be mean, heeseung.”

heeseung relents, raising his hands in a defensive manner, “fine, fine.”

the five of you fall into a comfortable conversation, with jay cracking jokes and sunghoon laughing at all of them, heeseung watching them both with amusement in his gaze.

“can we go home? i’m kinda tired…” you ask jake after a while of conversing and enjoying yourself with the four men, staring up at him with two wide eyes that he realizes he’s never been able to say no to, and today will not be the day that he starts. little does he know the ulterior motive brewing in your stomach, wetness growing between your legs since you passed by the room where the two of you first slept together. “sure, pretty. let’s go.” the two of you bid your goodbyes to the trio, watching as they bicker about their betting habits as you head out.

the two of you drive back to jake’s apartment, which will soon be yours since your lease with wonyoung is coming up, and your soon to be former roommate and still current best friend has decided to take a semester abroad, getting into her dream program that she’s been talking about since the summer.

“are you really tired, baby?” a mischievous smile overtakes your features as you shake your head, leading jake to the bed and pushing him to sit on the edge of it. “oh, i see…” jake smiles, hands covering the expanse of your hips as you straddle to sit on his lap.

“want you to make love to me, jakey,” you plead, grinding your core down onto him.

“god, angel–” jake groans at the feeling of you pressing yourself against him, “fuck, you drive me crazy,” he pushes you down further onto his clothed member as you continue your motions, needing to feel more friction. “if i weren’t so hard right now i’d make you ride my thigh forever.”

you groan at his admission, movements faltering and he takes your moment of distraction to pick you up, placing you against the pillows. he pulls back for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head and you gawk at the sight of his toned stomach, only ever seeing it in glimpses during your previous escapades.

“mmm, i could just eat you up,” you tell him, running your fingernails up and down gently along his abs, “can’t believe you’ve hidden this under your shirts all this time…”

“you were itching to get a peek all these years, weren’t you, baby?” jake teases as he takes your shirt off next, tugging your bra off after and pinching a nipple between his fingers. you groan, back arching up as he sucks on the opposite one harshly. “j– jake–” you groan, hands threading into his hair and pulling lightly. he groans against your skin, loving the feeling of the pain rushing through his scalp. “oooh, you like that, pretty boy?” jake moans as you pull his mouth away from your nipple, eyes fluttering shut at the sting traveling through his scalp as you tug at his locks again.

“stop,” jake begs, “another time, baby, let me take care of you tonight.” he sighs in relief as you release your hold on his hair. “alright, sim, you’re free to go this time… but i’ll be saving that for later, baby boy.”

“god, you’re such a menace,” jake groans as his mind returns from the subspace he was slowly slipping into, sliding down the bed until he’s eye level with your core, seeing the wetness nearly escaping from your thin panties. he tugs your skirt off unceremoniously, “been wanting to eat you since the first night i had you, pretty,” jake bites at your panties and yanks them down with his teeth, the sight making you whimper at the pure sex appeal oozing from the man beneath you. jake leans in and dips his tongue between your folds. “fuck, knew you’d taste so sweet, angel.”

jake eats you out like a man starved, slobbering into your folds, pushing his tongue into your pussy, flicking his tongue inside of you. you moan loudly, hands gripping the sheets on the bed, a nearly pornographic sound escaping your lips as jake sucks harshly on your clit, stars appearing behind your eyelids.

“fuck, jake–” you glance down to see the man of your dreams perched between your legs, whimpering at the sight of him biting your inner thighs and gripping your legs tightly, holding them wide open for him to have full access. “you close, angel?” he smiles up at you, the vision of him with your wetness coating his mouth and chin pulling another noise from your parted lips. you nod quickly, “please, jake,” you plead, a request he responds to by continuing his assault on your already abused and leaking pussy, his tongue’s movements pulling a well deserved orgasm from your body, watching as your back arches up, pushing your core further into his mouth.

“jake!” you whine, fluid still gushing out, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure continues to pass over you in overwhelming waves. “‘s too much!”

“oh no it’s not, my sweet angel girl can take it,” jake argues before biting your clit.

“ahh!–” you scream, the sound bringing a smile to jake’s face, continuing to push you to overstimulation with his wet muscle’s motions against your pussy.

jake finally relents after you’re nearly in tears from the overwhelming sensations he’s putting your body through, bringing his face up to be level with yours, his clothed member pressing against your still dripping pussy, “you’re so pretty when you cry, baby.” he whispers with sincerity, capturing your lips in a quick, searing kiss before pulling away again to whisper, “i only ever want to see you cry because i’m making you feel good, okay?”

“okay, jake,” you whisper in response, smile tugging at the corner of your lips at your boyfriend’s insistence on treating you right until the end of time.

“no more crying unless it’s on my cock,” jake smirks, the words making you clench at your pure attraction and adoration for the man in front of you.

watching jake tug his pants down his legs makes you groan, staring down at the huge bulge pressing against his thin boxers. “stop teasing, jake,” you whine.

“baby can’t wait any longer?” you shake your head, watching as jake pulls his boxers off, the blushing, leaking tip of his cock making your mouth water. “ahh, what an eager girl. if you weren’t dripping onto my sheets right now i’d make you suck my cock. but i’ll be nice and give my baby what she needs.” jake rambles on as you can do nothing but stare at his length, drooling at the sight of it, knowing the stretch it gives you is always delicious, never fully adjusting to his generous size even after all the times you’ve been together.

jake breaches your entrance, letting just the tip sit inside your hole. you wiggle, trying to force him further inside, “patience, baby,” he scolds and you whimper at his strict tone coming out. “don’t want me to punish you, do you?” you shake your head. you know you could take a punishment, but right now you just want jake to hold you close as he makes love to you.

jake slowly slides in further, watching with hungry eyes as your hole takes him easily, “fuck, baby, i’m gonna keep you stuffed, my sexy ass girlfriend deserves to be filled up all hours of the day,” he babbles as he buries himself to the hilt, the snug fit of your walls filling his brain with even more delicious, dirty thoughts.

“mm– feel so full,” you mutter, watching jake’s face with adoration and love in your eyes, “thank you, jakey,” you whimper as he slides nearly all the way out, allowing just the tip to stay inside before pushing back in slowly, groaning at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him right back in without protest, “god, this tiny pussy was made just for my cock.” you nod in response, seeing jake watching your face now before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing himself as close to you as he possibly can as he presses his face into your neck, sucking and biting at the junction between your throat and shoulder. jake tries desperately to leave marks, wanting to see them on your gorgeous skin when he wakes up next to you the following morning; little does he know you’ll wake him up with his cock in your mouth, mumbling around the dick that pushes an ache to your jaw about how you just wanted to help as you saw him sleeping with a tent in his boxers.

“need you closer,” you plead as jake rocks slowly in and out of you, love penetrating each thrust as he buries himself as deep as possible inside your pretty hole, the sensations pushing jake to the edge, the rubber band in his stomach begging to snap. “ugh–” you groan against jake’s lips as he captures them in a kiss, slow and sloppy but so full of want and need and unspoken pleas of never leave my side.

jake pulls away from the kiss, continuing to push into you with slow movements, wanting to feel every inch of your walls with each drag of his cock, holding his impending orgasm back behind gritted teeth, “tell me what you need, baby, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

“just need you,” you plead, eyes watering from the overwhelming presence of jake bearing his body to you, his mind and soul on display as he shows you how much he needs you with each loving action. “just need you,” you repeat, mind slipping away as he continues his movements, hips never tiring as he chases what he knows you need. jake removes one arm from your neck to snake down to your core, rubbing between your folds to gather up your own wetness before rubbing against your clit in the pattern he knows you love.

“fuck– jakey–” you groan, burying your head into the crook of his neck as he stares down at where the two of you meet, mind never getting tired of the visual of you taking him all inside, his length sliding in and out with ease. jake begins to fuck into you faster, nearly rutting against you as he chases the orgasm he knows is brewing in your gut. “come on, my angel girl, make a mess on me,” his words in your ears as you pull away from his neck to look at him. you nearly cry seeing jake meet your gaze; his delicate brown eyes meeting your own, need swimming in his gaze, “fuck!–” you gasp, beginning to babble words that don’t register in your mind as your high washes over you. jake watches your eyes fluttering shut, finally allowing himself to cum with you, pushing as deep as he can. jake watches as your breathing returns to normal, glancing down at the white ring surrounding his length, some of your cum mixture escaping and spilling everywhere. “god, baby, look at you. my perfect angel.” he traces his thumb along your cheek, watching a smile overtake your lips, knowing you’re utterly spent after only two orgasms. the day’s festivities have taken a toll on you, and he can see the tiredness in your eyes as they watch him with adoration.

you smile, “you don’t even know how happy you make me.”

jake cleans both of you off diligently, promising to throw the bedding in the wash tomorrow, knowing the cum would stain if you left it any longer. “i love you,” he breathes out, watching your face for a reaction at his sudden admission. you nearly cry as the words reach your ears, an overwhelming sensation in your gut. “you do?” you whimper, eyesight feeling blurring from the tears accumulating along your lashline. “i do, baby.”

“i love you, too, jakey.” he wraps you in a hug, neither of you caring that you’re both still naked, just needing to feel his hands holding you close to him. your voice is shaky and quiet as he holds you impossibly close, “i love you so much, you don’t even know.”

jake pulls back, holding your shoulders and placing kisses all over your face, on any spot he can reach, “you don’t know how happy i am to hear that, angel. you’ve made my life so much better.”

“now you have a built in study partner for life,” you tease, smiling at his continued onslaught of gentle kisses across your cheeks and nose, on your eyelids and on the corner of your mouth. “for life, huh?” jake teases, watching as your cheeks burn red at the realization of what you’ve said.

“don’t worry, pretty. now that i have you, i’m never letting you go.”

#jake #x reader #smut #enha #enhypen #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #**mine #**under the table

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actiniumwrites · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

synopsis: wriothesley finds out you have a crush on someone and somehow manages to guess it’s on literally everyone but himself

characters: wriothesley x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: fluff, a tiny pinch of angst and insecurity, my poor attempt at humor, slight miscommunication, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, swearing, first time writing for wriothesley so he might be ooc

notes: i almost made this angst to fluff but then decided i need to stop adding angst into literally everything i write (even though there’s like a tiny pinch of angst in here too 🙄). anyway, wriothesley is a lot harder to write than i thought he would be so i apologize if he seems ooc here

“Heard you gotta crush on someone,” Wriothesley teases as he walks into his office where you sit on one of his couches. You don’t even hear him walk in, too engaged in the book you were reading to pass time until you had to go through hundreds of inmate records to find something Neuvillette had requested.

His declaration is so sudden it almost makes you spit out the tea you had stolen from him.

Your eyes go wide as you stare at where he moves to lean against the front of his desk, arms crossed and waiting for an answer with that stupid smirk of his, “Hey now, that tea is expensive, so don’t go wasting it, okay?”

“Who told you about that?” you press for answers, a hint of anger in your voice as you ignore his previous statement about the tea. He had plenty to spare anyway.

Wriothesley’s smirk widens a bit, “So it is true.”

Damn him.

You don’t even bother trying to make an excuse, knowing your best friend all too well. He’d pick apart your words like weeds in a garden, finding meaning in them that you hadn’t even intended.

“And what if it is true?” you cross your arms defensively, glaring at him from across the room.

“At least tell me who it is,” he says as he rests his palms on the wooden desk behind him. When you don’t give in to his pleading, he playfully scoffs, “Oh c’mon, I’m your best friend! It’s kinda an obligation for you to tell me these things.”

You turn away, fixating your gaze on a nearby wall adorned with some weird painting he had hung awhile back, “Oh yeah? Since when? Last I checked there aren’t any rule books for being friends with someone. I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”

“It’s Neuvillette, isn’t it?” he smiles knowingly. Perhaps that was why you were always the one receiving tasks from the Chief Justice instead of him — a guess at best, but enough evidence to convince him Neuvillette was the one.

No, you idiot. It’s you.

You snap your head back toward him, “What? No! I don’t like Neuvillette…not like that, at least. He’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’d be able to date the guy.”

“Damn, I really thought I had that one,” Wriothesley mumbles in defeat, pushing himself off the desk and instead moving to walk around the room as he thinks. It scares you. The fact that he’s so particular with facts and little details that it’s only a matter of time before he collects all the pieces to the puzzle and figures out he’s the one you like. What would he say when that happens? “Too nice, huh? So you like someone a little colder, then.”

Damn it, he got you again!

You don’t answer him.

“Not even going to try to deny it?”

“No,” you grumble to yourself, slumping further into the couch, “you’re only going to dig further anyway.”

He gives a satisfied hum, “Right, so it’s Clorinde then. I mean c’mon, we don’t get a lot of visitors, so it has to be her. She fits the description too.”

You exhaustedly sigh and swipe a hand over your face dramatically, done with his antics, “It’s not her either. And there is no ‘description.’”

He perks up in a way that makes you way too uncomfortable, “Navia?”

“No, I’ve never even met her aside from like one time two years ago,” you refute, sliding further down on the couch to fully lie down and shut your eyes, “I don’t get why you’re so excited over this.”

Wriothesley thinks for a moment before squinting his eyes, “Don’t tell me you have a crush on a prisoner?”

You teasingly peek an eye open while leaning back to look at him, “And if I did?”

“You better not,” he warns, pointing a stern finger at you like you were a prisoner and not his coworker.

You laugh to yourself at his sudden change of mood, “Relax, I was only joking!”

“Not funny,” he says unamused, prepared to pull out the prison’s rule book and slap it over your head if you did, “I’m really runnin’ out of people here.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “thousands of people live in Fontaine. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

You really hope he doesn’t.

The following ten minutes consist of Wriothesley irritatingly pacing around the room and mumbling all sorts of names to himself. Some of which you recognized, others you had never even heard of before. And, despite all of your countless no’s to his guesses, he never gives up. Nor does he realize the answer is right in front of him.

“Just give it up already,” you finally interrupt as he stops in front of you.

A heavy sigh falls from Wriothesley’s lips as he collapses onto the couch, narrowly missing where your legs were outstretched. Defeatedly, he lays his head against the back of the sofa, shutting his eyes as he thinks a little harder. “Oh my god,” he says suddenly, head shooting up to look at you, “…don’t tell me.”

No way. Did he figure it out?

Your breath captures in your throat as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own, searching for some sort of truth. He knows. Your best friend knows that you have feelings for him — and not just the platonic kind.

His brows furrow and his face morphs into one of disgust. It makes your heart drop; the way he’s looking at you.

He doesn’t feel the same way.

“I can’t believe it,” he clicks his tongue in disgust, crossing his arms and turning his attention away from you, “you like Furina.”

Your jaw drops to the floor and suddenly you don’t feel bad anymore, “I actually can’t believe you just said that. Archons, I think you need to visit Sigewinne. I mean, seriously! Furina? Of all people!”

He grins and shrugs carelessly, “I don’t know? She was the last person I could think of.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

“Clearly not so wrong that I couldn’t figure out that the person you actually like is me.”

“Oh please, I don’t even—wait, what? You knew?!”

A boisterous laugh erupts suddenly as you stare at him with wide eyes. You sit up on the couch quickly, slapping his shoulder as he continues to laugh, “Sorry, sorry!”

You don’t find it amusing, “I—when did you figure it out?”

His laugh eventually subsides into a drawn out sigh and his blue eyes soften a bit as they gaze into your own, “I’m not an idiot, you know? I wouldn’t be running this place if I was.”

“Right,” you mumble awkwardly, averting your gaze from his, “so, um, were you just doing all that to lighten the mood so you could let me down easily or…?”

“Or…what?” Wriothesley mocks you, a playful smirk pulling at his lips.

You roll your eyes with a scoff, “don’t make me say it.”

He spares you, luckily. It’s unlike him, but he doesn’t care to joke with you any longer when the subject is so serious, “Yes, I feel the same way. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, I totally wanted to hear you say you hate me and want me dead,” you say sarcastically, trying to fight a smile.

“I’m being serious, I really do like you,” Wriothesley presses, ignoring the way you’re becoming awkward from the nervousness floating in the air.

You finally exhale the breath you had been guarding in your chest, relieved that this didn’t go as horribly as you once thought it would.

The alarm sounding for dinner goes off after and you both stand from your places on the couch, “So what do we do now that that’s out of the way?”

Wriothesley falls into step next to you, holding the doors to his office open to let you out first, “We have our first date in the cafeteria, of course.”

Your face drops and you stop in your tracks to glare at him, “That better be a joke.”

He laughs it off quickly, not thinking you’d take it so seriously. Eagerly, he grabs your hand tightly in his as he pulls you to the exit of the Fortress, “Relax, I’m just teasing you! You deserve only the best, after all.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n

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pure-smut · 1 month

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haikyuu boys - how they eat you out.

featuring: Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Iwaizumi Hajime

contains: f!reader, cunnilingus (obvs), tying up/restraints, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, facesitting, dom!Iwaizumi, slightly rough, orgasm denial/control, office s*x, gym s*x

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

word count: 1k

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Bokuto Koutarou loves when you sit on his face.

He’s doesn’t want you to hover or kneel, he wants you to sit. He wants to feel your thighs smoosh in around the sides of his head, he wants to bury his face in your dripping pussy, he wants to be suffocated and smothered and he won’t accept anything less.

If you even think about hovering, Bokuto will wrap his thick arms around your thighs and pull you down to him, locking you in place. He’ll force you to grab the headboard as you moan and shudder, his tongue lapping at your sweet arousal like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He’ll make you ride his tongue, sliding it inside your hole to seek more of your slick as you grind against his face.

Facesitting is Bokuto’s favourite way to eat you out because it means his hands get to roam free at the same time. Once you’re locked in, sitting on him properly, Bokuto will release your thighs so he can run his hands up your sides and over your stomach, feeling the way you writhe with pleasure. Bokuto will suck on your clit while his hands find your tits, kneading the soft flesh and tweaking your sensitive nipples.

If Bokuto suffocates, then he can’t think of a better way to go.

Kuroo Tetsurou is a pleasure dom at heart. It’s why he loves to have you tied up on his desk like this, after hours when everyone else has gone home and it’s just you and him in his office.

Your wrists are strapped to your ankles, your legs pulled up with your knees pressed against your chest. Kuroo’s in his white shirt, the top unbuttoned and his tie long since discarded. He’s already made you cum three times now as he sits at his desk, head bent to feast on you.

You whine and beg him, your puffy clit oversensitive and head swimming but you haven’t used your safe word yet. So Kuroo keeps going, his tongue dipping between your folds to lap up your arousal, his hands on the back of your thighs.

“You can give me one more, can’t you, princess?” he teases in between licks as his tongue travels back up to your swollen clit.

You buck against the restraints, completely at his mercy. Kuroo toes the line between pleasure and pain as he softly sucks on your sensitive nub, drawing another yet another orgasm from your poor body.

Ushijima Wakatoshi loves being on his knees for you.

He’ll often pick you up like you weigh nothing and place you on the kitchen counter before sinking to his knees in front of you. He nudges between your legs, slinging them over his shoulders, not even waiting to pull your panties down before he’s licking you.

Ushijima laps at the soaked fabric before using his tongue to push them to the side, seeking your heat from the source. You know there’s no stopping him when he’s in this kind of mood - when he wants to eat you, then he will. So you lean back slightly, spreading your legs for him, and let Ushijima have his fill of you.

He’s too tall to lie across the bed without his legs stuck uncomfortably over the edge so he often has you sitting or lying on the edge while he kneels on the floor. It’s even better if you wrap your legs around his head like a crown, Ushijima’s strong hands over your stomach as he laps at your sopping cunt. He knows you need an orgasm or two before you're relaxed enough to fit him inside you but the truth is, he'd do this anyway.

Ushijima knows your body is a temple and as long as he has you, he’ll happily kneel in worship.

Iwaizumi Hajime’s favourite view is of you bent over for him.

He knows you’re a bit bratty and stubborn so when he gets you like this, vulnerable and submissive as you spread your legs for him, nothing’s better.

Iwaizumi loves having his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you in place against the yoga mat, the gym empty except for you two. He loves the way your cheek is pressed against the mat, letting you throw him your bratty looks even as you submit, your stubborn streak never quite leaving. He loves the way your eyes widen as he grabs the flimsy fabric of your leggings and easily tears a hole at the crotch, exposing your naked pussy for him.

Iwaizumi can see you’re already dripping from the rough handling he’s given you, his cock straining at the view, but he can’t help getting a taste for himself first. He licks his lips.

Part of fucking you into submission is this – gifting you one orgasm so he can hear you beg for another once he stuffs his cock in you.

Iwaizumi’s hand leaves your neck so he can spread your cheeks, his tongue running up your folds to dip inside your hole. He fucks you with his tongue, enjoying the way you push your hips back against his mouth before moving down to your needy clit. You sink your nails into the yoga mat as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive bud, his rough stubble rubbing against your cheeks.

“I can feel you’re close,” Iwaizumi says, pulling back slightly to lightly rub your clit. “I haven’t given you permission yet. Don’t cum unless I tell you.”

Iwaizumi loves eating you out but he also loves being mean about it.

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cosmosis · 1 year

Text

based on this image from @fr3akingtf0utrn

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - office life

how miguel o’hara slowly makes you fall for him check out my miguel o’hara masterlist here!

Miguel O’Hara doesn’t fall in love with just anyone.

But... every time he sees you around the office, his hands almost inch towards you like a moth would a light. Something ignites in him that he can’t explain, but he can’t help but want so much more of you.

He likes to give you bagels and coffee during your breaks. (haha) Your work almost seems to magically disappear, and you’re a lot of the time left to finish up the easy stuff. Somehow, he’s even managed to sit with you for lunch, the rest of the spider-people in the cafeteria staring at the two of you while you eat.

The entire building, all of the spider-people seem to know the happenings between you and Miguel, and they love it. It’s become somewhat a staple gossip within the workplace.

Anyone bold enough would pass by Miguel in the hallways and say, “We’re rootin for you, boss!” In which Miguel wouldn’t know how to feel, whether it’d be angry or happy.

As of now, the two of you have been flirting around, evidently more than just coworkers. He’s yours, and you are his. To you, though, he’s the absolute sweetest. He takes work off your plate, he’s kind, and he adores you.

You’ve noticed Miguel getting a bit touchy lately, which you aren’t necessarily complaining about. Whether it’d be on your arm, a gentle hand on your neck to guide you through a crowd, or just being generally close to you, Miguel has been making his advances on you after Lyla spilled how it should be fine to do.

His touch makes you shiver a little; he’s extra warm and so very gentle. You almost always lean into his touch, and Miguel loves it too, he just doesn’t admit it upfront.

“You did great today, Miguel.“ You say.

Both you and Miguel just headed back to Nueva York from a mission, taking out another stray anomaly that wouldn’t come without a fight.

Miguel’s stomach flutters a little. Rarely, he ever gets praised by anyone. He’s the boss, the CEO; most of the time, he feels like it’s expected of him to do the best job. But, praise tastes much more sweeter when it comes from you.

“You did well yourself, sweetie.“

Miguel’s mask dissolves away, leaving behind his pretty face. You don’t think you’d ever get tired of it. He gives you this look of adoration, one that the rest of the office has never, ever seen in person.

You’re in Miguel’s office, well, more like your shared office. Miguel insisted that you’d move into his office, claiming, “I don’t want to go through the entire building just to find you for something.” which is code for, “I can’t live a day without being near you.”

So now, you have your own desk and work area. You’re both alone, no one to bother, (except maybe Lyla, but she knows better.)

You’re at your desk, and Miguel steps up behind you. His big hand slithers to your lower back, running his fingers against the curve of your spine. He’s warm, you can still feel the heat radiating off of him from the previous mission.

You feel him lean in, discreetly nosing his face into the top of your head. You lean in back, bumping your upper back into his chest.

“Is this okay?“ Miguel mumbles, serious heat trailing up to his neck and ears.

You nod. “Yes.”

And it was sealed from there.

Now, Miguel rubs your back too often. His hand fits into place with your back like a puzzle piece, Miguel always finding some kind of way to lay his hand where it belongs. You love it.

In the office? Yes.

During lunch? Yes.

Even on missions, he pulls you by your lower back to usher you away from a hit, and you both play around with that. He’s all fun and games when on missions, flirting, teasing, kissing.

Now, it almost feels wrong when he isn’t touching you.

. . .

“Hey, girl, look at this!“

Lyla pops in, automatically pulling up an internet article on your desk screen. It’s a web article; “The Science Behind Courtship in Male Spiders”

“Lyla, what does this have to do with anything?“ You ask.

Instead, she just scrolls into the article, highlighting a quote; male spiders give “back rubs” to seduce their mates.

You raise your eyebrow.

“You wanna know why Miguel’s been rubbing you so much? It’s cause of that!“ Lyla exclaims, as if she’s discovered this new scientific theory.

“I guess you’re kinda right on that.“ You mutter. But, the more you start to think about it, the more it makes sense.

Now every time Miguel palms your back, you think about the article.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv lyla #atsv #spiderman #across the spiderverse #lyla #atsv miguel o'hara #x reader #reader inser #fluff #romance #cosmosis-writes ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

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bluemoon-fever · 1 month

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needy

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.

word count: 2.45k

warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI

a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3

not edited.

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.

A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.

He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.

On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”

“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.

Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”

And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?

Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir.

God, he wanted needed you so bad.

“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.

You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.

God, you needed him so bad.

As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.

“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.

“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”

“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”

“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.”

Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.

“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”

You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.

You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.

“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.

“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”

“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”

“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…

He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.

Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.

“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”

Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.

His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.

Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.

Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”

You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.

“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.

He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.

“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely.

“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”

Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.

He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases.

Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.

“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x black reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader

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he-calls-me-kitten · 11 months

Text

Dirty Dozen

GN! MC x Pervert OM! Characters

Pervert! Lucifer who pretends to be more drunk than he actually is so he can lean on you when you escort to his room, pulling you into his arms and refusing to let go when you reach his bed. Even if his hands wander inside your clothes, you can't really hold it against him.

Pervert! Mammon who tries to do his best in tests and classes, cause he recalls every praise you give him while jerking off. And when you sit on the sofa, he sits on the ground leaning on your thighs thinking of you sitting on his face.

Pervert! Levi who designs the skimpiest possible cosplay outfits for you and only changing it after he's sees it on you himself. He asks you to twirl around or bend over even when you already feel exposed, brushing his knuckles against your bare skin to take measurements.

Pervert! Satan who sometimes recommends you the most erotic books he owns and loves watching your face change shades and your thighs squirm together with every page. He sometimes whispers the characters lines into your ear so he can hear every subtle gasp or moan.

Pervert! Asmo who asks to help him film couple thirst trap videos and messing up on purpose to hold you in risque places or even press kisses as the 'challenge' requires. Will deliberately put the same perfume he's wearing on you, so it seems like you spent last night in his room.

Pervert! Beel who likes to feed you big mouthfuls of food and thinks its so cute the way you still manage to fit it in your mouth. He loves holding hands with you, his large ones completely encasing your smaller ones - it reminded him how tiny and cute you'd look writhing underneath his large form.

Pervert! Belphie who watches you sleep during sleepovers while he implants sex dreams in your head using his powers. He watches you whimper and twitch with your hands between your legs as he ruts into his pillow right next to you.

Pervert! Solomon who loves to put you in accidental situations where you simply have to rely on him, especially in close proximity. The Box of Truth was just the beginning with your chest pressed up tightly against his, now he's secretly planning a trap where you both have to fuck a few times to escape.

Pervert! Simeon who secretly loses his mind every time your hands touch his exposed bare skin and looks for excuses for you to do it. Once on a dare, you had wrapped your arms around his waist and playfully bit his shoulders, and now he jerks off to it once every week.

Pervert! Diavolo who likes to seat you on his lap to help him work, feeling the softness of your cute little ass against his groin. Sometimes he'll grind against you subconsciously and then excuse it saying he's just trying to make sure you're not bored while he's thinking of ravaging you at his very desk.

Pervert! Barbatos who is just desperate to worship your body and give you more pleasure than you can handle. He is already so esctatic when you allow him to massage your back, now only if you'd let him strip you down one day.

Pervert! Thirteen who likes seeing you caught up in her traps and beg for rescue. You look so adorable pouting and huffing like that, struggling to escape as she runs an idle finger over your clothes, being a little tease.

#obey me smut #obey me solomon #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me thirteen

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luveline · 6 months

Note

do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much

yes! love u ty

—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k

James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day.

That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second.

Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that.

You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top.

To: [email protected]

Hi James,

please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.

Worst,

Your unhappy adjacent desk.

You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone.

An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.

Hi bestie,

I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy.

Best,

James Potter :)

He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work?

You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up.

I could report you to HR for that last one, you send.

He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me.

You’ll be deaf by thirty.

Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music?

Jealous of everyone in the annex.

Want a cup of coffee?

You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it.

He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness.

“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office.

You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.

Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip.

“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand.

You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways.

Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?”

“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.”

James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?”

You still. She?

“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.”

You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen.

“Try not to think about it,” Remus says.

“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees.

Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick.

“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.”

“It’s too much work.”

“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.”

You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.”

James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks.

“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.”

“But you’d do it?”

“How long will you be off for?”

James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly.

“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Remus says quickly.

James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?”

“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?”

James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.”

You can’t look at him very long.

The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible.

“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.

You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask.

“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”

“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.”

“I know. James knows that too.”

You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that.

Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you.

You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask.

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”

James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?”

“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”

“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.”

“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.”

You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.”

“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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slutforln4 · 5 months

Text

COME ONLINE.

🖇️ lando norris x reader

🖇️ in which, you and your boyfriend have a little bit of fun while he’s streaming.

🖇️ warnings: smut, virtual exhibitionism sorta??, bj

🖇️ author’s note: this is horrific and short, but i don’t want to keep you guys waiting for fics for months again haha

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“Mate, what the fuck are you doing?”

Max’s voice echoes in Lando’s headphones, distracting him from the only thing he’s focused on— you.

You look up at him from under the desk, unusually cold fingertips trailing up the distressed man’s thighs. He’s been trying his hardest not to break, to not show that you’ve been teasing him for the past eight minutes, with your hands ghosting over his bulge, softly tracing his thighs or the addicting way you lick your pretty lips.

“The game lagged.” He makes up an excuse for the awful few shots he placed in the surrounding trees, instead of the enemy. You stifle a giggle at his successful lie, fingers still toying with the hemline of his shorts.

Max rolls his eyes. “You’re just bad at the game.”

Lando ignores Max’s comment, too busy biting back a moan the second your hands palm him through his boxers. The mere feeling of your slender fingers sliding up his length, already throbbing for the feel of your mouth on him.

It’s a while before you do anything, and by the time you touch him again, Lando’s focusing on the game with no regard for the pretty girl kneeling in front of him. His fingers hastily press the buttons on his keyboard, eyes intensely tracking any movement on the screen. “I got one,” he says, eyes stuck to the screen.

Lando doesn’t react when you trail a finger up his thigh again, this time underneath his boxers. It takes a moment for Lando to notice the gentle tug at his boxers. It takes another moment for him to notice the kisses you place on his thighs, starting at his knee and ending at the base of his dick. His breath hitches when you start licking up his length, taking your sweet time in teasing him, making sure to give him a hard time keeping quiet on stream.

Max mutters something, but Lando’s too distracted by your lips softly sucking on his tip to even talk. He’s aimlessly walking around the area of his game, trying not to get into any trouble both online and in reality. It takes everything in him not to moan when you take his dick into your mouth, softly stroking the part that doesn’t fit.

“I’ve died.” Lando says, trying to keep his breathing steady while looking down at the view in front of him— his girl on her knees, taking him even in the virtual presence of others. He never knew you had this side to you, so he was shocked when you suggested the idea of giving him head while he’s playing.

Lando hears a noise in his headphones that indicated someone subscribing to his channel. “Noelle, thank you for the sub. Appreciate it.”

You freeze. Lando notices it, looking back down at you with a sort of darkness in his eyes. You hadn’t known he was on stream, and the notion of that shook you to your core. But it also excited you. How far could you push Lando before he inevitably breaks? How bad would the consequences be? A plethora of questions swirled in your brain, all while you were still toying with the man in front of you.

Lando watched as you stroked him, feeling all his walls come crashing down the second your lips wrapped around his length. He tried his damn best not to show it on stream, but he was a fucking mess. he takes his bottom lip between his teeth the second you start doing that thing with your tongue that always drives him crazy.

It drives him so crazy that he has to focus his attention on not making a face, trying his best to keep his eyes on the screen and read the chat. He can’t even speak, the only thing helping the silence from him was the music, that seemed to be awfully fitting for the situation he’s in. He can hear Max complaining about the enemy team, but he can’t even laugh about it, his whole career at risk for the mere touch of your lips.

He feels the warmth fill his lower abdomen and knows he won’t be able to get away with the microexpressions turning macro. Eitherway, he risks it. When you quicken your strokes and movement of your head, Lando seeks strength in clinging onto the headrest of his chair, bicep bulging through his black shirt and you’re sure you’ll see plenty of pictures of your boyfriend being a pathetic mess.

It’s fun toying with him. It’s easy to make him flustered and desperate for you, but it was just as easy to make him so angry he’ll fuck you til your legs shake. You contemplate the idea of not letting him cum and instead leaving him to continue the stream with a hard-on or risking the possibility of a moan slipping past his lips and having it circulate the internet til the end of time.

Your decision becomes easier to make when Lando leans back in his chair, the back of his hand covering his mouth while the other is still holding onto the chair for dear life. His pretty eyes are hidden by his tightly shut eyelids, as he tries his best not to let a sound escape his lips.

It takes a few more strokes until he’s throbbing and coming undone. You feel the hot liquid trickle down your throat and you swallow every last drop. The heaving of his chest and silent whimpers don’t go unnoticed by you when you pull away and wipe the side of your mouth with your sleeve.

A shy smile plays on your lips when Lando drops his arms into his lap, now covered by the boxers you pulled back up. He’s a heaving mess, face red and sweaty.

“You alright, mate?” Max asks, concern lacing his voice as he notices the heavy breathing echoing through his headphones.

Lando looks down at you, biting his bottom lip as he hastily nods. “Yeah, never been better. I’ll head out now, got some things I need to take care of. Bye, chat.”

When the stream ends and the only presence in Lando’s room are him and you, he helps you up from the floor and brings you to his bed. You lay down and he lays beside you, hands touring your body and lips never leaving your neck.

Little did he know, his name was trending. And not for the right reasons.

#formula one #formula 1 #f1 #lando norris #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x yn #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one fanart #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 smut

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xiaowhore · 1 year

Text

hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!

premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)

word count. 1.5k

note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.

You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.

You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?

You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.

But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!

With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.

Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.

“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.

“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”

When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.

Still.

“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”

...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”

He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.

“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”

“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.

Silence ensues.

“Do you like showers, sir?”

You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.

“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.

You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”

Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”

“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”

Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”

“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”

“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”

“Really, now?”

“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”

You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”

“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.

You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.

“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”

“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”

“In court, I only state facts.”

You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.

“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.

“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.

“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.

“You should still keep it.”

He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”

You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”

Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”

And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.

The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.

That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”

You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”

Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”

“Hey!”

(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—

But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #neuvillette #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x you #genshin impact x you

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fathomlessgaze · 6 months

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bring your child to work day: zayne and his daughter spend a day at the hospital

fluff, dad!zayne/reader (a little bit), ~2.2k

warnings: reader only makes a small appearance it's mostly about zayne + his daughter spending quality time together tbh, allusions to zayne + mc's lore (no specific memory idt just the overarching theme of their story), zayne is a devoted girl dad bc i believe in girldad!zayne...

a/n: mc/reader + zaynes daughter is named zenith here bc i liked the idea of them sharing an initial 😭 meaning the highest point/the point right above you in the sky bc i think thats what she would be for zayne+mc like one of the best moments of their lifetimes :( anyway it's mentioned in the fic but shes the spitting image of zayne thats his mini-me fr

“good morning,” zayne says, passing by the nurses’ station without much fuss. it’s an ordinary wednesday, after all.

“morning,” greyson echoes with a curt nod, his eyes still focused on the files he’s reviewing from an overnight patient.

“mornin’!” a third voice calls happily.

greyson freezes, his papers falling unceremoniously on the floor. “huh!?” he exclaims, a little too loud for a hospital corridor.

however the chief pays his outburst no mind, and he suddenly sees why, greyson’s gaze finding the little girl perched on his boss’ hip. of course, he remembers, it’s “bring your child to work” day. but for some reason, he never thought that zayne would actually bring his child to work. perhaps that explains why he’d made sure no surgeries were scheduled for this day weeks ago.

zayne strokes her dark hair, brushing a loose strand from her pigtails behind her ear. “this is dr. greyson,” he speaks softly, pointing in his direction. “dr. greyson, meet zenith.”

“nice to meet you!” she exclaims, waving a chubby hand in the air, paying no mind to his wide eyes and slack jaw.

she can’t be over four judging from her height, and, of course, greyson knew zayne had a daughter, but he didn’t really know. he remembers you mentioning her at your appointments, the photos on his desk and, of course, zayne’s paid time off actually being used at personal all time highs (which had already been on the incline after you moved in and then got married) since a few years ago, but it still feels surreal to actually see him with his child.

if she has any opinion on greyson’s lack of response besides the cartoon birds that would appear around his head if they were in an animated tv show, she gives no hint. instead, she smiles brightly, her green eyes sparkling as she takes zayne’s glasses off his face and fists the lenses, trying to rotate them in her tiny hands and fit them on her own face.

somehow, with the much too large frames perched on her nose, she looks even more like her father. everything, from her dark hair tied with ribbons to her hazel eyes, the curve of her brow and little nose, she is her father’s daughter to a t. perhaps the only un-zayne-like thing about her is the permanent cheeriness in her gaze and her gummy smile. that she must’ve gotten from you. while greyson has definitely noticed how his boss has become a little less taciturn and stern over the years, he would be lying to himself if he said he ever thought zayne would become even a miniscule fraction as bubbly as the daughter he holds close right now.

“i didn’t know you were bringing your daughter in today!” greyson exclaims, the realizations of today finally settling and coming together in his mind.

there’s a fondness in his eyes as he glances to zenith, his lips quirking the slightest bit upwards. “she’s been asking for weeks to come with me; i figured now would be the best time with the other kids here. i know you’ve seen the schedule for today, but—”

“oh my god!” yvonne gasps, speeding towards the trio gathered. “you brought your daughter, dr. zayne!” she extends her hand to the girl, which she happily takes. “i’m yvonne, i work with your dad.”

“i’m zenif,” she babbles, her syllables getting caught on her missing tooth.

simultaneously both greyson and yvonne coo at the little girl.

“aren’t you the cutest thing? i’ve seen so many pictures of you but you’re just the dearest little one, hm?”

and word of mouth travels fast, because, soon enough, a whole crowd has come to fuss over the most adorable little girl who looks exactly like the aloof department chair and has the sweetest smile. she graciously accepts their compliments with quiet ‘thank you's' and hides her face in her father’s neck and shoulder, causing even more ‘aww’s to fall from his colleagues’ lips. when the attention dies down, zayne finally gets to his office, nearly an hour later than he usually would have by now, but he can’t even be annoyed. his little girl is the most precious; of course, he would react in the same way.

he shuts the door behind them and puts his bag down by his desk, moving zenith so she has a place on his lap when he sits down. “what would you like to do today, hm?” he asks, booting up his computer and finding a pile of files from the depths of a drawer.

“what do you do?” she asks.

he hums. “well sometimes i see patients who don’t feel well, sometimes i do surgeries on them so they feel better, and sometimes i have to do paperwork. i don’t have any patients or surgeries scheduled today, so we can do whatever you want; how does that sound?”

“what about paperwork?” she exclaims. “you said that’s what you do?”

“would you like to do paperwork with me?”

she nods firmly. “i wanna spend time with daddy!”

his heart softens, his already abnormally warm (at least for work standards) gaze growing even more endeared by his precious, favorite little girl. “you want to spend time with me?”

her head bobs and she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “of course! i love you, daddy.”

pressing a kiss to her cheek, he can’t help a smile. of course he knows she loves him, loves spending time with him. when he’s home she’s practically glued to his hip. and he tries his best to make sure she knows the same. but sometimes it’s just nice to hear it from someone you love. “and i love you, princess.”

it used to be a foreign expression on his tongue many, many years ago, before you’d returned to his life, and especially before she came into his life. but as time flew by, thanks to you and your help, he’d grown familiar, comfortable, fond with it. while he knew you didn’t mind him not saying that as much as other boyfriends and husbands might from all your conversations, knowing he expressed how much he loved you and then some through other ways, he knew she might not have understood just how her father expressed his feelings and fondness at her young age.

so beyond his quiet actions, he makes sure to tell her. whether it’s a post-it note in her lunchbox, right next to the heart-shaped sandwich with the crusts cut off, just how she likes it, whenever it’s his turn to make her lunch, or a birthday card she’ll know how to read one day, he tries to tell her through words too. ‘i love you’ went from an expression he seldom said or heard, to one he couldn’t get enough of, whether it be from your lips or hers, and one he always wanted you both to know.

“let’s see what kind of paperwork we can find for you, then.” coincidentally a knock sounds from the other side of the door. “come in.”

“they brought some donuts and coloring pages out in the lobby,” yvonne says, popping her head in. “i figured you’d both be interested.”

“thank you, yvonne.” when the door shuts, zayne leans back to look at his daughter, brushing her hair. “what do you think about that? do you want to take a look?” with her eager nods, zayne stands.

“i wanna walk,” she pouts, tugging on his once crisp button-up, and he puts her down accordingly, taking her small fingers in his.

they make their way hand in hand down the corridor, drawing even more endeared coos from the staff until they reach the table. kneeling down to her height, he points at a smaller kids table in the corner.

“how about you get some coloring sheets and crayons? i can get you a donut and we can head back and do some paperwork,” he explains.

she happily obliges, skipping over and inspecting the books with a familiar seriousness (which also makes the other staff coddle her just as much as her bright smiles. “aren’t you so precious!?” “she’s just like her father!” zayne can’t help the small quirk of his lips when he hears how cute they find his daughter, because she is, speaking from his personal experience.). meanwhile he grabs a strawberry donut with sprinkles and a chocolate one, both her favorites, placing them on a napkin and grabbing a few extra knowing how she takes after you in terms of her messiness.

meeting her in the corner, he bends down, taking a quick look at the drawings she’s taken. “find anything you like?” he asks.

raising her pages to his eyes, she beams. “they have the bears!”

he smiles softly, tucking her loose hair away. “yes, they do,” he hums. “who knew?”

it totally wasn’t like he’d ordered specific character coloring books when it was time for the cardiology department to refill their kids’ activity section. it totally wasn’t like he’d looked for some ones he knew his daughter would love. it wasn’t like that at all; zayne maintains he’s as impassive and serious at work as ever…he’s lying to himself.

when she gathers her crayons, the duo make their way back to his office. the day flies quickly by, her babbles and light, curious questions bringing a new level of comfort and joy zayne never thought he’d get from his job. he loves what he does, of course, but everything just seems more enjoyable and memorable with his daughter by his side. or rather, with her on his lap, in her own little world of just her and her beloved dad, oblivious to the seriousness of the paperwork her father is dealing with as she busies herself with her own “paperwork” and scribbles vibrant colors all over the once black and white image.

and zayne thinks he would be perfectly content if it were to stay like this forever. even with all his prizes and awards, nothing could compare to the reward and title of being your husband and zenith’s father.

he lowers his pen to the desk from his fingers, using his free hand to rest his head as he admires the precious life before him. “i love you, princess,” he murmurs, pinching her cheek.

“i love you too, daddy!” she turns to face him, crumbs of donut glaze still around her lips.

he takes a napkin and dabs at her face before checking his watch. you’d said you’d meet them around now… “how about we get lunch soon?”

right on time, a knock sounds from the door, which opens to reveal you. “how are my favorite doctors doing?” you exclaim.

“mama!” she cheers, hopping off zayne’s knee and running into your waiting embrace.

kissing her head, you give her a squeeze. “how’s work with dada going?”

“i love it here! daddy colors and eats dessert all day,” she cheers.

glancing to your husband, you chuckle. “is that so?”

he makes his way towards you both, giving you a peck as you stand, your daughter now on your hip. “something like that,” he mumbles.

“then maybe i should become a doctor too,” you tease. “is now a good time for lunch?”

he nods, opening the office door once more and allowing you to pass first.

“i wanna become a doc-tor, too,” zenith ponders, suddenly serious with her small fingers tapping at her chin as she thinks, a habit no doubt from her father. “then daddy and i can color and eat snacks together forever!”

“is that so?” you ask, but you can’t help the smile you shoot at your husband.

she bobs her head, a determined furrow in her brow. “i wanna be with mama and daddy forever.”

zayne has a warm fondness in his gaze as his eyes find his daughter. she looks up to him with wide eyes and her gummy grin, reaching her small hand out for his own, which he happily obliges. her tiny fist wraps around two of fingers, and he briefly wishes that she could stay his little girl for eternity. she doesn’t need to know how hard her dad’s job actually is, how much work he had to put in to get to where they are now, the sorrows of her parents’ past. she is a precious gem, the shining peak of all your shared lifetimes.

this one existence, finally at peace, a happy ending for you and him, domestic bliss with the two, now three, of you, he thinks it’s worth every tear that’s been shed before. and maybe in another universe and lifetime, the you’ll get another happy ending. he thinks that even if it’s a simple life, as long as it’s with the two of you, it’d be one he cherishes and treasures close to every fiber of his existence, one he would fight all there may be to remember, for no god could tear his devotion. maybe he’d even bet every splintering past life that led to this one was worth the years he’s gotten to spend with you in this one, and the years still to come. so he hopes she stays as optimistic and bright as ever, that you stay by his side in this heavenly life he could only once dream of. after all, ice is made of crystals.

#zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #zayne fluff #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #l&ds x reader #mine

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lovelyhan · 7 months

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— melting point ⟢

rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut

★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!

★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T

There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is.

Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.

Most of the time.

“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office.

Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?”

Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.

“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”

“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”

He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money.

The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.

“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”

Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”

Ah. Her father’s interests.

“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”

There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed.

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”

“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”

Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”

Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.

“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?”

No. It was really something as simple as—

“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?”

The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.

“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”

“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition.

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable.

But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.

“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”

Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”

“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”

Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain.

She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.

But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.

Something worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things.

But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.

And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.

The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her.

But he never did.

That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year.

Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.

Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.

It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help.

The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do.

Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?

Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage.

In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.

But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him.

It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.

But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.

Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner.

Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.

He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have.

“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention.

From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time.

Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people.

Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.

It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work.

That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude.

Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.

But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.

“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.

The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.

He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored.

Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so.

But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon.

“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”

Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”

He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent.

“...Why?”

The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then.

He was too much of a coward to do so.

Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.

“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh.

“I want revenge.”

And that’s how their little team was formed.

It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines.

Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.

But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.

It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl.

Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.

The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.

He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.

It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to.

He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.

Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing.

It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?

At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo.

From: Wonwoo Jeon Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife. The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away. Regards, Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance

Like hell she was going to watch it.

The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success.

It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints.

As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after.

Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.

It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.

“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.”

Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”

Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse.

“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”

He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”

In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer.

“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen.

Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”

Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama.

“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”

His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”

“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands.

He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again.

“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”

Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.

“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”

“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”

Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”

Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”

“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”

Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.

Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.

They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.

(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.

Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.

His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.

He told himself not to think about it come morning.)

“A drug den?”

Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered.

And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.

“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?”

Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.”

“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”

“Positive.”

Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.

It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on.

But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious.

“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”

“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”

Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk.

“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”

Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”

Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness.

And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.

Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?

Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—

“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”

Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene.

But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?”

“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”

At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.

“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”

Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.

Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job.

When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?”

“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”

“Then sleep next to me.”

The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.

This is all part of the job, he told himself.

Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.

But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.

“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”

Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.

An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow.

She was already fast asleep.

He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.

Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital.

But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Which was, admittedly…strange.

Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.

But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.

He must be going insane.

“Wonwoo…?”

Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.

“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”

His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.

“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”

Two days?

Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change.

After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.

“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”

“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers.

For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him.

Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…

“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”

Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?”

Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further.

He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”

Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?”

Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved.

Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.

“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”

Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”

“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”

“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable.

But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.

Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”

Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time.

“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”

“Even you?”

It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place.

“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”

Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?”

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice.

He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror.

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”

He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual.

But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.

There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact.

It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away.

“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements.

Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars.

“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“More.”

Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen.

Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one.

But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.

“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”

Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”

“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”

Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in.

But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again.

“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”

He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life.

“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…

He was her secretary, and she was his employer.

That was all there was to it.

Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.

Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings.

Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.

Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away.

After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion.

Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.

As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.

The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence.

“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”

Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”

As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:

“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”

Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.

“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”

Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”

“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”

Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.

Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.

I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.

“Where is she?”

Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”

Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”

“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.

Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.

This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car.

Can’t you just let me in?

Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.

Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.

It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals.

With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—

“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”

“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…

“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”

Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.

“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”

“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”

The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—

Kiss him.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe.

Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?

Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.

Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”

Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”

His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.

“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”

Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.

“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”

God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.

And she didn’t want her men any other way.

“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.

“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”

Yes. Fuck, yes.

“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples.

Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts.

Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.

“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.”

“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”

“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”

Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.

“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”

Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.

He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.

No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.”

He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.

“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all.

Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—

All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!”

If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in.

“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium.

Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.

As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.

No, it was just Emma.

His Emma.

“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.

“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”

All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido.

“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…

“I fell in love with you.”

The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.

“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”

“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.

Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”

Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.

She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.

From: Wonwoo Jeon

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.

I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work.

Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.

Regards,

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance

Your boyfriend :)

end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #lovelyhan #full-length fic 📚#wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x reader

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