#comment about your childhood pets
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Yuu’s childhood pet came with them as their familiar.
#twisted wonderland#I’ll write 250+ words on which ever gets the most votes#comment about your childhood pets#twst#twst polls#twst poll#disney twisted wonderland#twst yuu
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but seriously i think learning about nature is Hard for many people, especially adults, because you have to rationalize the symbiotic experience youre having next to the contemptuous and abusive way we treat the land. I think USAmericans fear nature as a way of making sense of the fact that we're waging war against nature, with our lawns and our suburbs and our landscaping and our cosmetic use of pesticides.
There was a post on facebook my mom was showing me where someone found a salamander and was asking what it was. thankfully half the comments were like "that's a SALAMANDER they are SPECIAL and a BLESSING and you must PROTECT it"
but the other half were things like..."I don't know, but I think it's time to move" "Burn the house down" "Kill it with fire" "I would scream if i saw that"
this is why i have such specific preferences in horror fiction that nothing seems to really hit: for me, horror is not about bad things happening, horror is about fear. So occasionally I find these really satisfying stories that are about fear of the unknown thing and the experience of fear, but the unknown thing being harmless is generally seen as a "twist" rather than a perfectly sensible and satisfying outcome.
on the face of it: why would you be afraid of a tiny creature weighing only grams, whose body is so delicate and frail? it's heartbreaking, but it's not unexplainable. What kind of a childhood makes someone an adult who is totally unprepared to comprehend the idea of something both unexpected and good?
a bizarre universe to try and place myself in, where a salamander is more likely to be...what? a mutated fetus of a brain-sucking alien? rather than one among the thousands of gentle creatures that you can marvel at, forever, for free.
It's the same way with bugs: people argue with the simple fact that nearly all insects cannot harm you, and I think it's because it's so difficult to reconcile with how liberally and carelessly we use insecticides with proven harms to humans and pets, and how we treat and speak about these creatures in general. If that weird bug almost certainly would not have harmed you, that means you killed a living thing because you didn't understand it, and that's a troubling thought.
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model cowboy
🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun's motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, dry humping, breast worship, slow and adequate foreplay/pussy stretching/prepping, pussy eating, fingering, praise, slight switchy power dynamic but Jae is generally the dom/top, slight overstim, face riding, slight hair pulling, precum (jae is horny), dirty talk, sappy sex, alcohol, etc… I pet names: (hers) superstar.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.2k
🍭 aus.actor!Jaehyun, singer!y/n, fake dating au, enemies to lovers au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. it was actually so fun to have small clips of TMZ style gossip reporting- loved that I was able to try different things with this fic :)
Prologue
In this week's news, our favorite kids' show alumni are back on the scene together. Beloved model and actor Jung Jaehyun teams up with childhood costar (y/n) (l/n) for her new single Model Cowboy. This song will mark the kick-off of her third album, and the music video is set to start production sometime early next month, with the song coming out on iTunes and other streaming platforms sometime in the new year.
There’s a lot of buzz on social media about this pairing, as the two stars were ‘shipped’ incessantly in their teen years, with one user commenting, “It’s like Britney and Justin Timberlake all over again! Ah!!!!!”
While Jaehyun has had a string of relationships over the years, our favorite girl power singer y/n has only recently ended a long-term relationship with football player Lee Jeno. When asked how this separation would affect her new album, y/n had this to say: “I want to draw on the pain of a breakup because that feeling is so universal, but at the same time, I want the album to be fun. It’s about ending one cycle, and sure, giving yourself the space and grace to mourn that loss, but also looking forward at the future and other opportunities that come your way when you go through something like that.”
When asked about the new single Model Cowboy, y/n noted, “It’s about going back to your roots and finding that cowboy, blue-collar man. I think the trades are kind of in vogue right now, for all of the best reasons. We want salt of the earth, we want a man who will provide and take care of us- not everything is luxury and partying. There’s such peace in stability, and I want to honor the simplicity of good relationships, which we all deserve to experience.”
Despite all of this, when our reporters enquired about Jaehyun as the star of the music video, who, to us and many fans on social media, doesn’t scream ‘salt of the earth, cowboy, or stability’ our singer simply responded with “No comment.”
Yikes.
However, there may be hope for this fan-favorite couple yet. When Jaehyun was asked about his role in the music video at a recent film premiere for his new action movie ‘Home Grown’ he had this to say: “I did a few music videos in my early twenties, but never with anyone I really knew or admired. I’ve been focused on movies and fashion recently, but I’m excited to do a shorter-form art piece. y/n and her team are very creative, and I can’t wait to see the finished result.”
I can safely say that we can’t wait either.
Back when y/n was just eighteen, putting out her first album, there was one song that everyone thought she wrote about Jaehyun. We couldn’t help but bring this up to the actor. When questioned if he’d inspired y/n’s first hit single, ‘Forget About Him’, Jaehyun said, “That’s not for me to say, you’ll have to ask her.” This response revived years of conspiracy on social media, and we’re all still itching for the truth.
Production for Model Cowboy is set for the end of the month, and permits have been granted for shooting in California’s Joshua Tree National Park. We’ll all be on the edge of our seats waiting for promo pictures and behind-the-scenes photos.
Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates.
One:
You’re in your trailer with your assistant, Mark, waiting for your call time, and you can’t help the irritation that’s filling you. It’s the first day of shooting for Model Cowboy, and every other time you’ve filmed a music video, you’ve been excited about the creative journey of turning a song into a visual expression- but not today, and there’s one huge reason for your angst.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you groan. “Jaehyun wasn’t my first choice for this, and he’ll never be my first choice for this- it takes away from the meaning of the song to have him starring with me!”
Mark frowns. “I mean, he’s not exactly a model cowboy-”
“More like a model pretending to be a cowboy,” you scoff.
Your assistant sighs. “Management just wants you two to do this, fake date for a while, promote your music and his upcoming projects, draw intrigue-”
“I know it’s what management wants, I was forced to sign the contract,” you snap. Then you release a breath, getting control of yourself. This isn’t Mark’s fault, in fact, he argued your side in the meeting about this two months ago. “I just… I’m not a huge fan of Jaehyun.”
“You always said he was the most overly confident, smug, pretty boy that came out of your kids’ show,” Mark nods. He’s very good at summing up your difficulties, as he’s your most trusted confidant. You’d never dream of being vocal about your personal opinions of Jaehyun to anyone else, your PR training has taught you not to be fully honest, to prioritize your reputation as a ‘good girl’- but Mark, he gets you.
“At the end of the day,” you sigh, “sure, Jae might be a better actor, but I’m the better singer.”
“I know you won’t want to hear this-”
“Then don’t say it.”
Mark sends you a pointed look. “He did do that cover of ‘I Like Me Better When I’m With You,’ and everyone loved it.”
“Well, Jaehyun doesn’t have three albums and a Grammy. He did a cover. It’s not like that’s difficult.”
Before Mark can say anything else, there’s a knock on your trailer. You jump up, ready to start the day of shooting, but when you open your door, it’s not a PA standing there to take you to location, it’s Jaehyun.
He’s dressed in a cowboy-style outfit, however, it’s more runway than practical, and he’s also wearing the same smug smile he always used to have on when you were working together as kids and young adults.
“Long time no see,” Jaehyun muses.
You roll your eyes. “Don’t pretend you’re happy to see me.”
You know your dislike for Jaehyun is shared with his own disdain for you, and you’d noted that to your managers. How are either of you going to pretend to be in love when this general dissatisfaction with each other is evident every time you’re in the same room?
“Thought I’d come to discuss the whole fake dating script with you, you know, kind of like running lines.”
“There aren’t any lines for our fake dating scenario yet, it’s improv,” you remind him.
“Then, how about boundaries?”
You release a groan. “Fuck it, let’s go find my PA, get in a car to go to location, and we can talk during the drive.”
Two:
There’s a tension in the SUV. With you on his left, your assistant behind you, and Jaehyun’s own manager, Johnny, behind him, everything anyone says will be noted. In fact, Jaehyun’s been listening to Johnny argue on the phone about a brand deal for the past ten minutes.
You’d said you’d discuss the whole fake dating thing, but instead, your eyes are glued to your iPad as you look over the music video notes.
Jaehyun has always found you to be a very focused woman, he might go so far as to say you have a stick up your ass. Your rigidity is a stark contrast to his own ‘go with the flow’ type of way of doing things, and it’s one of the reasons you’d never gotten along well on sets.
When he’d come to your trailer to discuss PR lines, it had been because he was trying to meet you where you’re at. He thought you’d want to plan. In fact, he’d found it almost laughable when you’d told him it would be improv because out of the two of you, he’s the one that’s always excelled in that area.
You have this face you put on for others, but Jaehyun’s always seen through it. You lack confidence in yourself, and that’s why you overcompensate by being anal about details, about practicing so you never fail when the time comes.
Jaehyun leans closer to you, getting a look at the music video notes. The aesthetic board is very desert, horses, sand, sparkles, disco balls, and mirrors- for someone who said Model Cowboy was about finding someone who wasn’t all luxury, there are definitely luxury items in the music video notes.
“So… tell me again what the song’s about?” Jaehyun asks.
You sigh. “Mark sent you a sound clip, didn’t he? Did you even bother to listen to the song?”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun shrugs, “but I wanted to hear the details from you.”
You take an exasperated deep breath, putting your iPad down on your lap. “It’s about falling in love with someone who’s very salt of the Earth-”
“What do you mean by that?”
Your lips part in shock and annoyance. “It means a man who’s salt of the Earth.”
“Yeah, you said that, but like…” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh at how bad you’re fumbling this, “what does that mean, to you.”
Mark shifts in the seat behind you, leaning forward to join the conversation. “It means someone who is honest, and reasonable. Someone who doesn’t think they’re special or better than others.”
You flash Jaehyun a pointed look. “So basically, not you.”
Jaehyun chuckles. “Baby, neither of us are salt of the earth if that’s your definition.”
He can see how annoyed you are, can pick up the micro movements, the way your fingers are tapping on the edge of the iPad. It’s a rhythmic thing, something you do to calm yourself, and he’d noticed that pattern in you when you were much younger.
“This whole fake dating thing was not my idea,” you snap finally.
“Yeah, wasn’t mine either. We both have PR managers.”
You roll your eyes, letting out another exasperated sound of annoyance.
Jaehyun kind of likes poking at you like this. He’d been worried that you’d be super anal about this whole project, and while you’re definitely fighting for control, he likes to jab you where your guard is down. It feels like a win to him, and deep in Jaehyun’s core, he knows it’s not a nice thing to do, but he simply can’t help himself.
You have a history, years of interactions and bickering- he hasn’t seen you in a long time, but getting on your nerves is as easy as it’s always been, and that schoolboy enjoyment from picking on you is as potent as it ever was.
Three:
You’re a couple of hours into your day, and you’re doing some shots with horses now. You’d chosen Hwasa as your director, she’s a visionary in the type of aesthetic you want, and you’ve worked with her numerous times before. She’s very girl power, which is what you love, and you also enjoy the fact that she sees this as a collaboration.
You’ve worked with male directors in the past who think your music video is about showing their vision, and in your early days as a teen, you hadn’t been able to find your voice. Now, as an adult, you have the final say on everything, and Hwasa is the best partner you could think of for a project like this.
The two of you are by the cameras, making sure the shot will be good. The horses are just hanging out with their trainers, and Jaehyun’s a few meters away under the sun tent, waiting for direction.
“So… I’m thinking…” you look at Jaehyun, then at the saddles on the horses, “What if we try a shot with bareback.”
Hwasa casts you a sideways glance. “I mean… visually, I think that would be nicer, it would encapsulate freedom, but at the same time… is Jaehyun skilled enough to mount while bareback?”
“He’s an actor isn’t he?” You turn to look at Jaehyun. God, you can’t wait for him to fall off the horse and eat shit. “Jae!”
He’s sitting in a chair, his head tipped back, cowboy hat obscuring his face. The sound of your voice makes him sit up, his fingers pushing the rim of the hat up so he can look at you.
“Come over here!” Hwasa calls.
He nods, standing then swaggering over to you. He’s having way too much fun in his little cowboy outfit for your liking. “What’s up?”
“How do you feel about trying this scene on bareback?” Hwasa asks.
Jaehyun looks at the two of you, then over at the horse. “We can give it a go.”
You try to hide your smile, God, this is going to be so satisfying.
Hwasa goes to consult with the safety guys and trainers, who take off the saddle, then talk Jaehyun through how to mount a horse without the aid of stirrups. He nods nonchalantly, as smug as ever.
The scene gets ready, with you and Hwasa behind the camera. “Action!” she calls.
Jaehyun approaches the horse. He stops next to it, stroking it’s hair. You watch him get a gentle grip, and then, in one fluid motion, he hoists himself up, swinging his leg over the horse’s back before steadying himself into a seated position. He guides the horse by its hair to make a neat circle, looking like the most skilled cowboy ever, then he turns and flashes you that smug smile of his as Hwasa yells “cut!”
“That was amazing,” Hwasa tells you. “God, Jaehyun was such a good choice for this.”
“Really? How so?” you ask.
“Just, I know he’s not a stereotypical salt of the earth man. He’s not all American, he’s not a cowboy with a five o'clock shadow- this… dichotomy of visuals versus lyrical interpretation, how any man can be the right man if given the chance, despite all these stereotypes-”
You can feel your expression fall. Sometimes you hate how artsy Hwasa is, with her bachelor's in English and her way with words and interpretations. You can’t argue with her analysis, because if that’s what she gets out of the visual of Jaehyun flawlessly mounting a horse bareback, then that’s her view of it.
“Do you want to try to mount bareback too?” Hwasa asks, drawing herself out of her musings to focus on the scenes she wants in the time allotted.
You release a sigh. “I guess we can give it a try.”
“If it’s too dangerous-”
“If Jae can do it, I can too,” you insist, not wanting to be one-upped by him.
You’re in a long flowy silver dress with a slit up the thigh, and you remove your white overcoat. Jenni, your makeup artist double-checks you, and you’re handed your flashy disco-ball-styled cowboy hat.
The safety team and trainers give you a talk about how to mount the horse, and after listening carefully, you feel ready to take on the task.
Your horse is black, and your outfit is meant to be a contrast. It’s a beautiful horse, and when Hwasa calls ‘Action!’ you approach it carefully. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, and you stop next to the large animal, stroking it for a moment while you gain the courage to try to mount it.
As you make the leap, hoisting yourself up- Jaehyun calls out, “Don’t slip!”
And of course, that’s exactly what happens. Your leg can’t get a grip over the horse, you trip up a little with the silky material of your dress, and just like that, you’re back on the ground with two feet, sending a death glare over your shoulder at Jaehyun.
“It was a nice effort!” Hwasa encourages you.
“Not many people get it on their first try,” a trainer agrees.
You watch Jaehyun smile smugly, and an annoyance unlike any you’ve ever experienced fills you as he meticulously watches you try to complete the scene.
Four:
It’s near the end of your first day of filming. Hwasa had decided on a one day permit for the horses in the desert, opting to get all the scenes involving the large, beautiful animals done in one big go, and now, she’s explaining the final shots she needs to you and Jaehyun.
“So, we’re skipping through the linear timeline a little right now,” your director explains. “This is one of the final shots of the music video, so we’re going to imagine that at this point, the two of you are completely in love.” You and Jaehyun exchange a look. “You’re riding on horseback in the desert. We want bliss, joy, a comfortable kind of peace that comes when you can truly be yourself with another person, a freedom.”
She gazes pointedly at you and Jaehyun.
“I think we can manage,” you scene partner says, but there’s an edge of hesitation in his voice.
“We’re thinking ‘Ride’ by Lana Del Rey, but instead of motorcycles, you’re on horses. Think about how effortless she looked, how devil-may-care,” Hwasa, ever the Lana Del Rey enthusiast, explains. “You know her song ‘Young and Beautiful?’ There’s a line, ‘Hot summer nights, mid July, when you and I were forever wild.’ Do you guys have that?”
You love that Hwasa enjoys poetic music, it’s one of the reasons you’d been so drawn to her when you wanted to shift out of your role as a child star turned pop icon. Hwasa had been adamant about the Lana Del Rey stylings that she wanted to influence ‘Model Cowboy,’ the American Dream, wild and poetic love.
However, with all that said, you’d never imagined Lana Del Rey would be tainted by the imaginings of Jaehyun as your lover, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
You’ve already gone over blocking, and Hwasa’s explained the drones and cameras set up to take the shots, so now, all that’s left to do, is get through the day.
Jaehyun can tell you’re lost in thought, he can see the dissatisfied look on your face, but before he can call you on it, Johnny pulls him to the side.
“Good luck with this one,” Johnny muses, patting him on the shoulder. “And don’t fall off your horse, you’ve got to be in Milan in a couple of days for the big Prada show.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jaehyun brushes his manager off. “I’ve got this.”
“That’s my little go-getter actor,” Johnny grins, having scored a goldmine when he landed Jaehyun as his client, despite being a very young and new manager in the industry. “Be the Model Cowboy you always wanted to be.”
Jaehyun takes a deep breath before joining you. “You ready?” he asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh.
“Okay guys, we’re in love!” Hwasa bellows. “We’ve got this! And… action!”
Your expression immediately changes, suddenly, you’re grinning, in fact, you’re glowing. It takes a second for Jaehyun to follow your lead, but then, the two of you are playfighting and tickling, laughing like young lovers who are tasting what it feels like to have found their soulmate for the very first time.
Jaehyun knows the blocking, he knows when to wrap his arms around you after a few feet of chasing, when to lift you up and spin you as you laugh and gently kick. He knows when to set you down, going in for a kiss only for you to break free and dart to your horse, effortlessly swinging yourself up onto the black stallion and taking off.
Jaehyun is right behind you, mounting his own white horse and following.
He does his best to keep an easy going, loving expression, and at first, it’s a little difficult. But, as more seconds of the two of you riding through the desert go by, Jaehyun remembers the way he felt about you when you first met.
You’d been just kids then. Two young teens still growing into your bodies, into your personalities. He remembers how beautiful you’d been, even then, how your smile had lit up the room, as it does now when you turn your head to look over your shoulder at him, making sure the distance between you is still correct.
Of course it’s correct, if you want to be anal, Jaehyun can be anal too, and he’s not going to give you any reason to nitpick after the day he’s had.
No, Jaehyun’s an actor. He’s a professional.
In fact, he’s a Model Cowboy as he chases you through the desert on horseback.
God, the way you’re looking back at him- you’ve really grown into your looks, and Jaehyun’s not making things up when he says you’re glowing. The golden hour sun is hitting you just right, and suddenly, Jaehyun’s heart is racing. He feels alive, he feels- as if this whole thing is real. He forgets the cameras for just a few moments, getting lost in the experience of being young, wild, and free, with you.
Something shifts inside of him, although, Jaehyun’s so enthralled with you that he can’t quite pin what’s just taken place.
The scene is over all too quickly, the two of you making your blocking mark at the bottom of one of the rocky cliff faces that litter Joshua Tree National Park. You slow your horse, coming to a stop, your expression falling.
Jaehyun feels his own smile drop as he stops next to you. He swallows thickly, not knowing quite what to say, so, he decides to note, “Wow, your acting has really improved!”
He means it as a compliment, but your expression turns even more sour, and he knows he’s messed up.
“Well that’s a back handed compliment if I’ve ever heard one,” you scowl.
“I-” Jaehyun’s words get caught in his throat, and he has to swallow a lump just to continue, “I meant it in a good way, I was trying to be nice.”
“If that was you trying to be nice, it makes sense why you can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month or so,” you snap.
Jaehyun’s chest hurts, and he stares at you in shock. It’s all the more painful, because in some ways, what you’ve just said is true. He’s used to only dating models, people in the industry who aren’t as successful as he is. He’s only ever entered relationships where there’s a power imbalance, and he supposes in a situation like that, any negative feedback could be biting- yet, it’s different with you.
You’re the one with the power here, and it’s clear you won’t take any criticisms from him. You stand up for yourself, in a way no woman ever has around Jaehyun.
As he watches you lead your horse away, signaling the end of the interaction, Jaehyun realizes maybe he kind of likes that you’re very powerful in your own right. Maybe he likes a woman who can defend herself and doesn’t just take what the world throws at her.
Maybe… just maybe, after all this time, he likes you.
Five:
The locations crew had found a really cool oldstyle cowboy motel for everyone to stay at. It had been relatively inexpensive compared to other filming location lodgings in the past, and renting the whole place, including the mess hall, for four days had been the obvious choice.
You’re sitting with Mark and Hwasa, all three of you have trays of food from the buffet, but none of you are focused on eating. Hwasa has her iPad out, and she’s going through the shots of the day with Mark. You remind yourself when you peak at the screen that there’s still a lot of editing to do, but so far, it’s looking quite good.
Your stylist, Jenni, is also with you, and she’s capturing the majority of your attention as she shows you pictures of the costumes set for tomorrow. Your long silver dress is being swapped out for a pink palette upscale cowgirl aesthetic, with Jaehyun in creams and blues to match the lighter blush colours.
You notice Jaehyun walk into the large dining area. He and his manager, Johnny, head straight for the food, and they tilt their heads together, thick as thieves out of ear shot.
When they’re done filling their trays, they begin to head to a table, and that’s when Hwasa calls them over. “Rough shots,” she explains. “Jae, you sit next to y/n and I’ll show you both some of the details.”
You flash Jenni a look, hating that she has to move over for the model to sit.
Jaehyun is awkward as he does so, apologizing to Jenni, which is his only saving grace.
When he settles, your shoulders are touching, and he leans closer to get a look at the iPad that Hwasa is holding. Hwasa doesn’t show all the shots, just her favourites, and you have to admit, the visuals are stunning even before any editing for light and colour.
Then, Hwasa shows you all the footage from the last scene you’d shot, the one with you and Jaehyun playfighting then leaping on horses.
“This is so good,” Hwasa tells you. “You both look so natural on horses, the drone shots are perfect, and the golden hour? Stunning.”
While all of that is true, you’re more focused on how in love you and Jaehyun look. It’s weird to be seeing you and Jaehyun like this. It’s almost out of body, or doppleganger realm, because how the heck did you manage to look so happy and in love with Jeong Jaehyun of all people?
You feel the actor shift next to you, and you get the sense that he’s uncomfortable with it as well… however, out of the two of you, he has way more experience on screen. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he looks very much in love, he gets paid big money to sell those emotions.
“Anyways,” Hwasa sighs, “y/n, tomorrow morning, we shoot sunrise and into the afternoon, then Jaehyun, the latter half of the day is us at the ranch for some more ‘classic’ cowboy scenes.”
“Sounds good,” Jaehyun mumbles. With one last nod of appreciation, he stands up, and it’s as if he can’t get to another table fast enough.
Six:
They’ve been shooting Jaehyun’s cowboy scenes for a couple of hours when he notices your arrival on set. You’re not in the pink costume he’d heard about you wearing this morning, and you’re not all dolled up either.
You’re in a light jacket and jean shorts, a more relaxed look, and yet, you’re still stunning.
You’re next to Hwasa, looking at camera angles and shots, and while you seem to be making a few notes to the director, Jaehyun appreciates that you aren’t trying to micromanage him yourself.
Shooting continues for another hour, and Hwasa calls a short break so she can figure out what else needs to be done today while they have the ranch.
At first, Jaehyun just goes and grabs a water. Johnny is hyping him up, but the actor is hardly paying attention, his gaze focused on you instead.
Jaehyun can’t help himself, he walks over to you. You look up from Hwasa like a deer in headlights, and something about it is very endearing. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, can I uh… talk to you for a sec?” Jaehyun asks.
“You know what? Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you nod, “come with me.”
You grab his arm, dragging him away. Jaehyun’s a little confused as to where you’re taking him, and when he finds himself in the privacy of a secluded location behind his trailer, he’s even more confounded.
“Uh….” he starts, wetting his lips.
“What did you need?”
“I was just… guess I was wondering what you were doing here? Didn’t your shoot finish a couple of hours ago? Figured you’d be getting some rest at the motel.”
“It’s my music video,” you remind him. “Also… management thought it would be good to let tabloids get some shots of us shooting today, that’s why I pulled you over here, we allowed them the field of view to your trailer.”
“So that’s why you took me to such a secluded spot,” Jaehyun grins.
“It’s the only reason I touched your arm,” you retort.
“Careful, don’t look so angry,” Jaehyun warns you, his hands reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your tabloid shots.”
You roll your eyes. “Tabloid won’t be on the property till after your last take in an hour or so. Don’t jump the gun, cowboy. After your next scene, you can be as much of a little model slut as you’d like.”
“You think I’m a slut?” Jaehyun asks, shocked that you’re talking to him in this way.
“Am I wrong?”
Jaehyun stands there for a moment, and then, he releases his grip on your hips. “Guess not.”
“So, after you’re done the next scene, we come here, and see if we can pretend to like each other,” you instruct.
“We just have to be as convincing as we were yesterday,” Jaehyun muses.
You open your mouth to respond, but then you shut it, and Jaehyun’s left wondering what you would have said for the next hour.
He wonders how far you’ll let him take things, and part of him wishes you’d answered his question about boundaries yesterday. This feels like uncharted waters, and his heart is racing when he finally meets you behind his trailer again.
“Okay,” you sigh. “Do your worst.”
Jaehyun feels himself begin to salivate, and he swallows thickly. There’s no way he’ll do his worst. His worst, would be throwing you against the trailer and having his way with you right here and now- asserting his dominance and seeing if you push back in any way- he suspects you like him more than you let on, after all, Jaehyun’s never met a girl he couldn’t tame.
Life’s hard when you have a stunning face and a hot body to match.
Jaehyun reaches for your hips, pulling you closer. His skin is tingling with excitement. “I’m going to say something funny, and you should laugh,” he whispers.
You grin broadly, but the expression doesn’t meet your eyes. “Depends on if what you say is funny or not,” you counter.
Jaehyun’s mind suddenly goes blank. His pick-up lines, his jokes- they all fly out the proverbial window. He doesn’t know what to say, so instead, he begins to lean in-
You turn your head at the last second and Jaehyun’s lips graze past your cheek. He’s a little taken aback at first, but he leans into it, reminding himself that you’d told him to improv. “Is this okay?” he whispers in your ear, still wanting to double-check with you although every fiber of his being is telling him to just do what he wants.
“It’s okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms loosely around the back of his neck. “You’re the actor.”
For some reason, it feels like a compliment that you’re making the distinction between the two of you. You’re right, he’s the actor, and you’re the Grammy award-winning singer.
His lips continue softly on your cheek, and then he adjusts, pressing kisses down to your throat. You shift in his embrace, tilting your head to the side to give him more access.
“Jae-” you warn.
“Just a few more, for the tabloids,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck moreso than kissing now.
You release a sigh, and with your chests pressed together, Jaehyun can feel your heart racing.
He wonders if you can feel his going a mile a minute too.
Seven:
You eat in your room with Mark, too shaken up by your interaction with Jaehyun earlier to dare enter the mess hall yourself.
“So, I was just sent the tabloid pictures for final approval,” Mark sighs, joining you on the bed so you can see his phone. “They’ll be up in the morning.”
“Just choose your favourites,” you murmur.
“Uh…” Mark blinks at you. “I really think you should look at them with me.”
You take a deep breath. “Fine.”
Shifting your gaze to Mark’s phone, he scrolls through the shots, and you hate how natural they look. You and Jaehyun just look good together, and it sets your teeth on edge.
“The cheek kissing is cute,” Mark says thoughtfully. “The way you’re holding each other looks real.”
It looks too real, in fact.
“I’m just happy we have opposing shoot schedules tomorrow,” you admit with another deep breath. You can see Mark side-eying you, and you hold up a hand before he can respond. “Don’t say a word.”
“It’s just…” Mark struggles at times to surpass your commands. He’s your assistant first and foremost, but your company also expects him to have somewhat of a managerial role over you, and you know it’s a fight for him to find balance at times. “Everyone has shipped the two of you since you were younger. People say it’s like Britney and Justin in the Mickey Mouse Club House show- then you were teenagers, and you went different directions-”
“Well, Britney and Justin didn’t end up together, did they?” It’s a rhetorical question, and from the way Mark sighs, he knows it.
“You’re missing the point,” he struggles.
You turn your gaze to him. “Am I?”
Mark releases a breath, dropping the issue. You feel bad shutting him down like this, but at the same time, you don’t want to open the can of ‘Jaehyun’ worms, if you will. No, you’d much rather ignore it for right now.
You’re filming a music video for your new album, and you have much bigger fish to fry.
Eight:
If Jaehyun wasn’t needed for business calls with Johnny today, he might be on set watching you, and Jaehyun can’t get it out of his head as he chills in his motel room and listens to his manager working.
It’s three hours into calls and details before Johnny is able to take a break, and he sets down his phone with a pointed look on his face. “You’re being weird.”
“Am I?” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh, but there’s little humor in it.
“Talk to me,” Johnny says lightly, giving an air of friendship despite the fact that he’s still in his role as manager. “Talk to me about this whole PR, fake dating thing.”
Jaehyun shrugs. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Those fake tabloid pictures of you and y/n from yesterday on set dropped an hour ago, they’re trending on Twitter,” Johnny points out.
“It’s called ‘X’ now, actually.”
Johnny narrows his eyes. “I’m never going to call it ‘X.’ It’s fucking Twitter.”
Jaehyun can’t help but laugh, for real this time. He loves Johnny, loves him for all of his little millennial quirks.
“Honestly?” Jaehyun sighs, feeling his energy sift again. “Y/N’s super uptight, but… she can act like she’s not, and that’s a different side of her that I wasn’t really expecting.”
Johnny is quiet for a few moments. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.”
“That song from her first album, ‘Forget About Him,’ was that written about you? Is there a past here?”
“Nah, it wasn’t about me,” Jaehyun assures his manager. “As far as I know, she’s never been interested in me like that. We had this other costar, Haechan-”
“Lee Donghyuck?”
“Yeah, him. They uh, I think there was something there between them, for a little while at least.”
Jaehyun can feel Johnny’s assessing gaze, and he averts his own eyes.
“It almost seems like you’re jealous, Jae.”
“Yeah, well, Haechan never went on to become a brand ambassador for Prada or star in movies, he was just some little child star.” Jaehyun can taste the bitterness in his words, but he can’t help himself.
“You know who’s not just a child star?” Johnny asks. “Y/N. You two are, without argument, the most successful people to come out of the show you were in when you were younger.”
“We’re both very driven,” Jaehyun admits. “I do admire that about her, she has a Grammy for fucks sake.”
“What I’m getting from this,” Johnny concludes, “is that you’re completely fine with this whole fake dating arrangement.”
“Well, as my manager, you should know I’m a good actor,” Jaehyun counters.
Johnny laughs. “Sure you are. Tomorrow is the last day of shooting, you’ve got that big kissing scene, I guess we’ll all see how good of an actor you are then.”
Nine:
There’s something comical about the fact that both you and Jaehyun are chewing gum in preparation for your kissing scene. Together, you’re with Hwasa as she goes over the vision for the shot.
“So, we’re thinking Jae’s going to grab your neck,” Hwasa starts, “gently, of course. More of a cupping the nape of your neck than a grab, actually. It’s going to be slow, a slow exploration of moving closer. Lots of close-ups of the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes. It’s about breaking the distance, about two worlds colliding and connecting in a way that feels natural, unrushed, and just, electric.”
Jaehyun nods, looking at you. “We can do this.” You wish you were as sure as he sounds right now.
Jaehyun takes out a tissue, and the two of you spit out your gum, disposing the trash before moving into position.
The shot is on the edge of a cliff, with the desert and sunset stretching out like a vast, yellowy-orange ocean behind you.
It’s as you approach your marked spot that you remember something. “Jae,” you ask softly, “are you still afraid of heights?”
You watch him take a deep breath, and he nods, standing a few feet from the drop-off. You notice he’s looking everywhere but down, and something inside of you softens for him.
Here you are, worried about the kiss, and here this man is, worried about falling off the edge of a cliff and dying.
“We’ve got some space between us and the edge,” you tell him, stepping closer. “Here, grab my hips, we’re both steady, we’re not going to fall.”
Jaehyun’s lips part, and you can see the confusion on his face.
You suppose you’ve never been nurturing to him, but you can’t help yourself with this. You don’t mean to be a bitch, in fact, you’d argue adamantly that you’re not a malicious person. Jaehyun just pisses you off a lot, and his behavior generally merits a reaction- but right now, he deserves a bit of peace of mind, and you can see him relax a little as his hands grab your waist.
“Feels more steady?” you double-check.
“Yeah.” He swallows thickly, nodding.
“We’ve got this,” you assure him.
“Are we ready!?” Hwasa calls.
You flash a thumbs up, turning your attention back to Jaehyun.
“And… action!”
The two of you simply stare at each other for a moment. Hwasa had said she wanted this to be slow. You’re shocked at how exposed you feel looking up into Jaehyun’s eyes. He really is a very handsome man, and he looks so extremely vulnerable right now.
His gaze shifts to your lips, and you allow him to take the lead. One of his hands moves up your body, cupping the back of your neck gently. You can smell the spearmint on his breath, as he moves closer.
You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun’s motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated.
His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.
You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.
It feels good to be kissing Jaehyun, and the realization makes you break the kiss, opening your eyes and blinking in an effort to get yourself out of the daze that’s come over you.
“That was amazing!” Hwasa’s voice is like a slap. “I’ve got some shots, but I’ll need you guys to do it one more time.”
Jesus.
“You good?” Jaehyun asks.
You nod, swallowing thickly. “Let’s just go again.”
You’re kissing him again all too soon, and this time, it’s like fireworks. Your heart is racing in your chest, your skin electrified as you cling to Jaehyun, diving deeper into the feeling of him.
This time, he’s the one to break the kiss, and he looks away immediately. You notice him breathing heavily, but before you can say anything, Hwasa’s approaching again.
“Okay, that was amazing, and I hate to be that person, but I’ve decided I want drone shots too, so… third time is the charm?” She looks between you and Jaehyun and both of you are quick to nod, although, neither of you has yet found your voice.
“You good?” you ask him as Hwasa goes back to her spot, her main drone lifting into the sky with an electric thrum.
“Yeah, just one more,” Jaehyun says, voice wavering.
The two of you get back into position, and you study Jaehyun carefully. You’re looking at him, truly looking at him, and he’s looking at you with the same fierceness. You can tell something has shifted between the two of you, but at this time, you’re unsure how deep it really is.
He kisses you again on Hwasa’s direction, and you wonder how normal it is to feel this way during a kissing scene with a fellow acting partner.
You’ve never had to do this before, but you know Jaehyun has. He’s been in two or three rom-coms, there must be a way to stay professional after kissing a costar, right?
But God, he still feels so good.
You’d thought - or maybe hoped - that the first kiss would be a one-off. That the second wouldn’t be as great, and by now, maybe the butterflies would have escaped the cage in your tummy, but no, the feeling surging through you is as powerful and electric as it had been with the first meeting of your lips.
He leaves you breathless.
Standing on the edge of the cliff with Jaehyun, you realize you’re in deep shit.
Ten:
Jaehyun notices you in the mess hall. You’re looking over food, plating up your dinner, and he decides now is as good a time as any to talk to you.
He doesn’t mean to be a quiet, sneaky sort of guy, but he can’t help the lightness of his walk. When he goes to stand next to you, saying “Hi,” you practically jump, your food stray scrambling a little as you compose yourself.
“Jesus,” you cuss. “You scared me!”
“Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… uh, the shoot is over, I head to Milan tomorrow-”
“Yup, I know your schedule,” you nod, sighing. “It’s in our contract that I come to your show and be front row to watch you, remember?”
“Right, yeah.” Jaehyun swallows thickly. “So… reporters are going to be asking a lot of questions about us.”
“Uh huh, that was the point of the paparazzi pics.” You continue filling your tray with food, so unbothered and cool in your movements that it makes Jaehyun’s heart beat faster. Are you unaffected by your kiss from earlier? Because Jaehyun can’t get the feeling of your lips out of his mind.
“I just uh, wanted to say, you can trust me to give the right answers and stuff. I’m PR trained.”
God, Jaehyun wants to strangle himself. He feels so nervous, and the look you give him tells him that you think he’s being a dork. He’s definitely being a dork-
“Okay?” you laugh. “I’m PR trained too, we both took classes when we were kids, remember?”
“Right,” he’s such an idiot, “yeah. Anyways, I guess… I guess I’ll see you in Milan in a couple of days.”
“Sounds good.”
With one final nod, Jaehyun leaves you be, and he beats himself up about the awkwardness of the conversation for the rest of the night.
Eleven:
In this week's news, our favourite kids’ show alumni were spotted getting close on set. y/n’s new music video, Model Cowboy, is set to be one of the videos of the summer, starring Prada ambassador Jung Jaehyun. The two have a long history, and while there have been rumors about their romantic connection in the past, nothing has ever been confirmed… until now.
TMZ dropped a photo of the two embracing outside Jaehyun’s trailer, and the internet officially broke. #modelcowboy has been going absolutely wild on X. One user wrote: “all my dreams are finally coming true! Thank you mama e papa!” While another took to X to say this: “At first, I didn’t love Jaehyun as the whole ‘model cowboy’ trope. He just doesn’t fit it for me. But I don’t know, something about the pictures of him and y/n just feels right- guess you don’t need a history as a rancher to be a cowboy, he’s definitely lassoed my heart.“
So far, the general consensus around our new ‘It Couple’ is that it’s been a long time coming. While there’s no official confirmation about their relationship, one of our reporters caught Jaehyun after a show in Milan last night. When asked about their time shooting the music video together, the actor/Prada ambassador had this to say about y/n: “She was amazing. The whole experience [filming Model Cowboy] went without a hitch. She’s super talented, one of the most driven women I know, and I can’t wait to see how this music video pans out for her.”
When asked about the pictures of the two of them that have been trending, Jaehyun said: “I mean, she’s beautiful, she’s an icon- who wouldn’t want a chance with her?” When the reporter clarified by asking if they’re dating, Jaehyun noted, “You’ll have to ask y/n, I’d never be ‘that’ guy who would speak for a powerful woman like her.”
All we can say is damn, that’s a green flag if we’ve ever seen one.
Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates.
Twelve:
There’s nothing like the closing night of a show. Jaehyun feels elated, he feels on the top of his game, like nothing could bring him down.
“You were amazing,” another model tells him, fluffing her hair up with her hand as the two of them decompress backstage.
“You were amazing, Vivienne,” he retorts, never feeling more giddy and boyish than he does now.
“I’m good, but I’m not model of the year good,” she grins.
“You’re still new,” Jaehyun assures her, although, pride is swelling through him.
He sees her skin flush, her eye lashes fluttering at him-
“Jae?” your voice draws him out of his assessment of Vivienne, and he turns in shock to find you standing there.
You look stunning, your stylist team has really outdone themselves with your looks for the past couple of days- but there’s a sour set to your lips that immediately tells him something is wrong.
“Y/N?” he asks.
“Am I… interrupting something?” your gaze shifts to Vivienne, and Jaehyun immediately understands what’s going on.
“Excuse us,” he says to Vivienne, grabbing your hand to tug you a few feet away. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you jealous right now?”
“No,” you retort immediately. “What reason would I have to be jealous?”
You’re making a big show about the notion of jealousy being ridiculous, but Jaehyun knows he’s hit the nail on the head.
“No reason at all,” Jaehyun assures you, and he truly means it. He knows this whole dating this is a PR move, but he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head all week. Every time he’s walked past you sitting front row at the shows- well, he’s been feeling butterflies in a way that he’s hardly been able to admit to himself. “Hey, listen-”
“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “Your show is over, we both fly different places tomorrow morning, management will set our schedules to keep up this whole fake dating thing, I just wanted to say goodbye before I go back to my hotel.”
“Oh, right.” Jaehyun can feel his heart sink in his chest. “Uh… where are you staying?”
“I’m at the Four Seasons.”
“Do you maybe want to get drinks later or something?” he asks.
“I’m sure you have after parties to go to with your… model friends.” Your gaze shifts to Vivienne again, and that same sour twist to your lips appears.
Jaehyun wants to reassure you, but- the words just aren’t coming. Besides, what would he even say? We’re fake dating but I’ve been rethinking our entire dynamic since we kissed and now I’m not so sure I want it to be fake, because I’m actually really into you, and all of our bickering in the past has been because I’m jealous of your driven nature and I’ve seen you as competition but now I see that we can do more together than apart?
It feels like a lot of word vomit, and Jaehyun’s not about to projectile all of that at you right now. He doesn’t want to look stupid again, doesn’t want to feel like an idiot. He’s scared of rejection, in a way he’s never been scared of it before.
Instead, dejected, he just nods. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Okay, so you go have fun, I’m going back to my hotel, and like I said, I’ll see you when I see you.”
Jaehyun watches you leave, and suddenly, the high from the fashion show has depleted. No one has ever had this kind of hold on his emotions before, and Jaehyun knows he’s going to have to do something about it, he just doesn’t know what.
Thirteen:
“Jeeze, Mark, I told you, I’m going to bed-” Your words cut off as you open your hotel door and find Jaehyun, not Mark, standing there.
“Uh… Hi?” Jaehyun smile sheepishly, and you look him up and down.
He’s in a form fitting suit, but it looks somewhat ragged. His shirt is unbuttoned haphazardly, his hair a little fussed, and his cheeks are flushed pink.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
“Well, I went to the afterparty, like you told me to, but… I don’t know, I just felt bad about how we left things.”
You’re shocked at how candid he’s being, and you don’t see a hint of dishonestly in his body language. “Have… have you been drinking?” you question next.
“Just a little,” he admits. “Can I…” Jaehyun looks around the hallway outside. “Can I come in?”
“I should really be going to sleep soon-”
“Yeah, I heard, Mark’s been on your ass,” Jaehyun nods, swallowing, “but uh…” he leans forward, voice lowering, “What’s that pipsqueak going to do about you staying up just a little later? I mean, you can sleep on your flight tomorrow, can’t you?”
Yeah, Jaehyun is drunk. “Did you just call Mark a pipsqueak?” you ask in shock.
“So what if I did?” He grins lazily.
“Jae-”
“y/n.”
You sigh. “Come in, sit down, and let me grab you some water.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His smile is much too large for your liking as he enters your hotel room, going to the couch like a good boy.
You can feel his eyes on you as you get him a bottle of water from the fridge, moving to join him. “Here.”
“Thanks.” He unscrews the cap as you sit down, taking a large gulp.
“So… what’s this about?”
He’s still drinking the water, like a child after a marathon, just drinking and drinking with small stops to gasp for air- you can’t help but laugh a little, watching with amusement.
Jaehyun finishes the entire bottle. “So-” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?”
“Making you jealous earlier.”
“What?” You’re in shock. “I was not jealous.”
“You were, and it’s okay.” He places his hand on your knee and you look down at it then up at him questioningly. “I was jealous of you and Haechan back in the day, but the difference is, I wasn’t hitting on Vivienne, I was just trying to be nice to her, you know, as male model of the year and everything.”
“Jae-”
“I wasn’t hitting on her,” he says again, expression turning firm. “You’re my girlfriend and I’d never, ever do that to you.”
“I’m not your girlfriend.”
“Contractually, you are,” Jaehyun insists. “I can be a good boyfriend to you, if you let me try.”
He’s leaning in now, and you grab a pillow, haphazardly shoving it between the two of you so he can kiss that instead.
“Jae!” You hop off of the couch, heart racing.
“Shit, sorry, you’re just- God, have I ever told you that you glow?” Jaehyun looks up at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him, it’s almost like admiration.
“What are you even saying?”
“You glow. You light up the room. You just- you sparkle, even without disco balls and diamonds.”
You wrap your silky night robe tighter around your body, feeling self conscious. “I don’t glow.”
“You do,” he insists. “Even when we were younger. I think- I think part of me always worried your glow would diminish mine, if that makes sense- but, but after seeing some of the footage from the music video, I see that, now that we’re older, when we do stuff together, when we’re not competing, we can glow together.”
So he’s like… very drunk.
But… haven’t you always heard that drunk words are sober thoughts?
You look down at him, and it feels like you’re seeing him in a new light.
“Jae?” you question.
“Yes?”
“What’s going on?”
“When we kissed that day on set, I felt something.”
“Are you… not used to feeling things?” you ask.
“Not feeling things like that,” Jaehyun corrects. “I mean, butterflies, sparks, you know, corny rom com shit.”
Your stomach flips, heart beginning to beat faster in your chest- so he’d felt the connection too.
“Look, okay, this is going to be embarrassing if you reject me, but, fuck it, I want to get this all off my chest.” Jaehyun takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his silky hair to steady himself. “I like you. I think, a part of me has always liked you, but, I also used to see you as competition. Now that we’re older, now that we’re both successful, I don’t see you that way anymore- and before you think that’s another backhanded compliment, I just mean, you’ve won Grammys. You’re- a fucking star. And I think… maybe I’ve grown to the point where I can accept other people’s successes without seeing it as a diminishment on my own.”
You’re surprised he can speak this well and use big words while clearly feeling the effects of alcohol, and even more than that, you’re surprised by the context of what he’s saying.
Jeong Jaehyun thinks you’re a star. He recognizes your hard work and your success. He’s not just some smug asshole looking down at you, he’s actually seeing you, and maybe… maybe you’re beginning to see him.
“I appreciate the compliment of what you’re saying,” you tell him, picking your own words carefully.
“There’s that PR training,” Jaehyun winks. “You’re cute. Glowy, little, cute, superstar. Maybe that’s what I should call you, my little superstar, the media would eat it up.”
“That’s your PR training,” you laugh.
“We can’t help it,” he smiles up at you.
“Can I say something without you getting upset?”
“I’ll do my best,” Jaehyun promises solemnly.
“I want to start by saying this isn’t a rejection,” you clarify, “I just wish you would have told me all of this while sober, instead of showing up at my apartment near midnight before we both fly out of town in the morning.”
“I can see that,” Jaehyun nods. “I guess, you kind of scare me.”
“I scare you?” you laugh.
“Uh huh.” He swallows thickly. “Like heights.”
He’s so adorably dorky for a famous actor and Prada brand ambassador.
“But- on that cliff that day, when we kissed, and you reassured me, and you let me hold your hips- I don’t know, it was nice. I- thanks, thanks for doing that.”
“I can be quite nurturing if I think someone deserves it,” you tell him. “Which, speaking of, you’re still drunk, and you downed that whole bottle of water, I think I should get you another, and maybe we can move somewhere more comfortable.”
“Like.. the bedroom?” There’s a glint in his eye, and it makes you scoff.
“Get your mind out of the gutter Jae, you can stay on this couch for all I care.”
“I’ll be good,” he promises, crossing his heart haphazardly.
“Come on.” You hold your hand out for him and Jaehyun takes it, allowing you to help him to his feet. You go get another bottle of water and the two of you move to the bedroom. The mattress is substantially more comfortable than the couch, and Jaehyun releases an audible moan as he clammers down onto it.
You get situated, moing under the covers so you feel less exposed.
“I like it when you’re nice like this,” Jaehyun sighs.
“I’d be nicer if you didn’t always tease me.”
“You like it when I tease.”
“I actually hated it when you told me not to slip as I was getting onto the horse during the shoot, and it completely made me mess up and slip,” you point out, still irritated by that ordeal.
“Okay, to be fair, yes, I’m sorry, but also, your dress was silky as fuck, you were going to slip even if I didn’t say anything, and that’s not your fault, it’s Jenni’s for not giving you better clothes to actually ride a horse with.”
He has a point there.
“So…” Jaehyun switches topic, his demeanor getting more anxious, “back on the couch, you said you weren’t rejecting me… can you… can you explain what that meant.”
“It meant I’m not rejecting you.”
“And salt of the earth means salt of the earth,” Jaehyun retorts, rolling his eyes. “Can you give me a Mark style explanation on what you meant.”
“I meant…” you think about it for a second. “I like you too, I think you might be more into me than I’m into you at the moment-”
“Oh yeah?” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest and getting pouty.
“Yeah,” you laugh.
“Fine, okay, maybe,” Jaehyun concedes. “But?”
“But… I’m willing to explore something with you.”
“Yeah?” His expression brightens. “Really?”
“We’d just have to sort out details, you know- we’re on contract for three or so months, so, if we gave it a real go, and things ended before our contract, how would that even work? There are limitations to having a relationship with someone you work with.”
Jaehyun looks down at the water bottle in his hands, clearly thinking it through. “We can… take it slow? I mean, we’d have to, since we both have different schedules and will be in different countries tomorrow.”
“Slow could work,” you agree.
The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and you almost think he’s going to lean in for a kiss again, and then he asks, “What did happen with you and Haechan? Your first single was about him, right?”
You release a laugh, if this is really a can of worms he wants to open, then you suppose you can let him open it.
You begin to explain to him your history with Haechan, and Jaehyun listens intently. Somehow, he gets the ball rolling on your recent relationship with Lee Jeno, and before you know it, two hours have passed with the two of you just discussing past relationships.
Jaehyun tells you about his own ex’s, about his lack of accountability and emotional maturity. He gives voice to all the trouble spots you’ve identified about him in the past, and clarity on his hopes for being better in the future.
He also noticeably sobers up, which makes you feel a lot better about having this sort of intimate conversation with him.
Soon, you’re both just laying in bed facing each other, talking about everything and anything. “Do you remember that time the catering company on set changed?” Jaehyun asks.
“Oh my god, yeah, when the higher ups wanted more vegan and vegetarian options, and it was just like, raw fruit and veggies with store bought hummus?”
“Jaemin wasn’t used to eating anything that wasn’t carbs or meat and in the middle of a take he had to run to the bathroom?” Jaehyun adds.
“Shat his pants and everything, pissed wardrobe off in a way I’ve never seen,” you giggle. “What ever happened to him?”
“I don’t keep up with many of our old castmates,” Jaehyun admits. “But I think he’s some radio show host or something now, has a segment about embarrassing first dates and stuff.”
“He always loved messy gossip,” you sigh, happy to be reminiscing in this way.
There are only a handful of people who can understand what it was like to be on a kids show in your early teens, only a few others in the world you could possibly have this conversation with.
Despite your differences, you and Jaehyun come from the same place, and it makes it easy to talk to him.
Jaehyun’s staring at you, and he pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Should I let you sleep?” he asks. “It’s two AM.”
You’re hardly tired at this point, and now that Jae’s sober… and in your bed… your own mind has found its way into the gutter, and you’re not quite sure what to do about that.
“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.
“Always.”
“I haven’t gotten laid in a long time,” you sigh. “And… we’re flying to different places tomorrow, so maybe it’s not the best idea I’ve ever had-”
“It is,” Jaehyun interrupts you. “The best idea you’ve ever had.” You shoot him a look and Jaehyun laughs, back tracking. “I mean, your lyrics and albums are great ideas too- but I just mean… If you’re horny, then you’re horny, and I’m, well, here.”
“I just don’t want you to feel taken advantage of.”
“Even if you’d tried to fuck me when I first walked in here, all drunk and being stupid, it still wouldn’t have been taking advantage of me.”
“I think fucking someone while they’re drunk is one of the most obvious scenarios of taking advantage of someone,” you counter.
“Okay, true, but- you know what I’m saying.” Jaehyun flashes you a knowing look. “If you want me to fuck you, I’ll fuck you.”
“That’s so romantic,” you roll your eyes.
Jaehyun laughs, and then he sits up, looking down at you. “If you want romance, we can go shower together or something. I could… romantically wash your body, and tell you how perfect you are-”
“It’s two am, fuck that. Just kiss me.”
Jaehyun grins, then he leans over you, staring into your eyes. He’s moving slower than you thought he would, and part of you wishes he’d just ravage you like some primal animal- but no, he’s acting like he did in your music video. You can practically see adoration in his eyes, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek in a way that’s almost loving.
“I meant it when I said that you glow,” Jaehyun says softly.
“I know you did,” you breathe, grabbing the back of his neck to draw his lips to yours.
It’s odd how familiar the two of you already are. The kiss isn’t awkward at all, but then again, your first kiss hadn’t been either.
Neither of you are trying to dominate it, you’re moving slowly, reading each other’s body language and cues.
When his tongue gently licks your lip, you open your mouth for him, drawing him closer as the kiss deepens.
Jaehyun shifts in your embrace, and then he’s moving to be between your legs, which spread for him. He’s on top of you now, elbows digging into the pillows while you make out like teenagers in love for the first time.
He just feels so good.
For a long time, you’ve felt like an anxious person. You have a lot of weight on your shoulders, but when you’re kissing Jaehyun, that pressure feels lifted. Your mind goes blank as the two of you make out, your body at the forefront instead of your thoughts.
Jaehyun slowly begins to grind down against you, and the gentle pressure on your clit has you groaning against his lips.
You feel him smirk, and then he begins to kiss down your throat, taking his time to suck gently on your skin.
One of his hands slides up your thigh, teasing the waistband of your sleeping shorts before moving back down again. He’s so warm, and you hips push up for more stimulus.
“Jae-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair.
“Slow, or fast?” he asks, pulling away from your throat to look down at you.
“A bit of both.”
He cocks his head to the side.
“Fast to get my clothes off, slow to explore, then make me cum,” you clarify.
Jaehyun laughs. “Whatever you want, superstar.”
Your skin tingles at the nickname, and your pussy throbs as Jaehyun begins to remove his clothes. Each button feels like an eternity to get undone, but when he slips the fabric off, you find yourself practically drooling.
He has such a perfect body, not too lean, not too muscled, just perfect.
Then, Jaehyun begins to take off your robe and you sit up to help him. Soon, your shirt is being tugged over your head, and your nipples immediately pebble at the cool air of your hotel room.
You lay back down, staring up at him while Jaehyun takes in your body.
“Glowing,” he whispers, cupping your breast and rubbing his thumb across your nipple.
You whimper at the sensation, and his eyes move up to your face. He’s grinning at you. “Sensitive?” he asks, gently pinching the bud.
You groan, shifting against the bed. “Yeah.”
“I’ll take care of you,” Jaehyun promises, leaning down to kiss you again.
He begins to descend to your throat again, but this time, he goes even farther down, making it to your chest. The first flick of his tongue against your nipple has you whining, and you thread your fingers through his hair again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.
He continues to suck on your breasts, paying attention to both nipples. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, and you’re torn between loving the feeling of this and wanting something more.
It’s as if he reads you, because he pulls away from your chest, hooking his fingers in your shorts. You both adjust to allow him to get you fully naked, and then he lays down between your legs. He presses kisses along the sensitive flesh of your thighs, looking up at you.
There’d been a time in your life when you hadn’t loved eye contact during pussy eating, but there’s something so erotic about the way Jaehyun’s watching you as he brings his mouth to your core.
He kisses your clit gently, and you watch as his eyes close, his tongue swiping up your folds to taste the wet that has accumulated there.
He groans, delving deeper with his tongue, his large hands grabbing your thighs as an anchor as he begins to devour you.
Has anyone ever eaten you out like this? Jeno wasn’t much of a giver unfortunately, and it feels like forever since you’ve had someone doing to you what Jaehyun is currently doing.
Your entire body feels alive, with each flick and suck- You’re clutching at the blankets now, moaning desperately as he works you up faster than any man before him ever has.
You guess you hadn’t put a time limit on making you cum. You’d told him fast to undress, which he did, slow to explore, which he also did- and now, it seems he’s intent on making you cum on his tongue, which is something you have no issues with.
“Jae-” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.
He looks up at you and you begin to move your hips, riding his face. He stays still, letting you use him, and you can tell from the groan he releases that he kind of likes you taking control in this way.
“I’m close,” you tell him. “Please make me cum.”
Jaehyun’s fingers dig into your thighs, and then he’s back at it. He takes lead again, sucking your clit into his mouth while you cry out and grab the sheets with your free hand.
Your eyes close, your back arching a little as he works you closer and closer to the edge.
It’s a steady build of pleasure, and then, you’re tipping over. You release a strangled gasp as ecstasy courses through you like electric shocks from the tip of your head down to your toes and fingers.
You can feel your pussy contracting with pleasure, a steady rhythm that prolongs the sensation. Jaehyun continues to suck on your clit, helping you through everything until you’re a gasping mess.
He relents, and you can hear him sit up. Your eyes are still closed, one hand now haphazardly thrown across your eyes as you try to catch your breath.
The sound of Jaehyun’s pants hitting the floor draws your attention, and you look up to find Jaehyun standing there in all his glory.
“Still want to do this?” he asks.
“Get over here,” you command, opening your arms for him.
Jaehyun flashes you a grin, then he rejoins you on the bed.
Your lips are meeting a moment later. It’s not a gentle slow exploration anymore, but a hungry, lust fuelled haze. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it turns you even more. You wrap your legs around his hips, tugging him closer.
His cock rubs between your pussy lips and you whimper, reaching between yourselves to line him up- Jaehyun takes your hand, moving it aside. Then, two fingers enter your soaked core and you groan against his lips.
“Gotta prep you,” Jaehyun muses. “You said you haven’t been fucked in a while.”
“Don’t tease though,” you warn gently, looking up at him.
“Never.” He kisses you again, drowning out the anxious thoughts as he finger fucks you, spreading his fingers and working you open in preparation for his cock.
Jaehyun begins to curl his digits, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you that has you groaning. You break the kiss to burrow your face against his throat, panting as he draws more and more pleasure out of your already exhausted body.
You feel something drip on your upper thigh, and you look down to see the precum leaking out of Jaehyun’s tip. “Sorry,” he groans, “I’m just, super turned on right now.”
“Then fuck me,” you insist, biting at his earlobe. “I’m prepped now.”
“You sure?”
“We’re both dripping, Jae, just fuck me.”
“You got it, superstar.” Jaehyun grins as he kisses you. He finger fucks you a little more and then he pulls his digits out of your wet core. You watch him sit up, licking his fingers clean, then he grabs the base of his cock.
He presses the tip into you, looking up to watch your reaction. When you release a moan, Jaehyun grins. He steadies over you again, his biceps bulging as his lips meet your own. He pushes deeper inside of you, taking it slow until his hips are flush against yours.
You both groan at the feeling.
“See?” you gasp. “Told you I could take you.”
“Taking me so well,” Jaehyun agrees, his breath hot against your throat as he begins to pepper your skin with kisses.
Jaehyun’s hips start to move, and he fucks you gently at first, allowing your inner walls to get used to the size of him. His kisses distract you as he opens you up, his pace increasing.
You release a loud moan when the tip of his cock hits a deep spot inside of you, and you can feel Jaehyun grin against your throat. “Right there?” he asks, doing the motion again. “Is that the place?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding. “Right there.”
Jaehyun brings his lips to your own, and he kisses you deeply as he continues to abuse that special spot. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucks you. God, you’re so lost in him, in the best possible way.
You never miss out on beauty sleep, but Jaehyun is more than worth it.
“Superstar?”
“Yeah?” you ask, half delirious.
“Would it be bad if I asked you to ride me?”
“Huh?”
“I just- I could still fuck up into you, but I don’t know, I kind of want to see you on top.”
“Really?” you look up at him in shock. “You strike me as a man who likes to have control.”
“Says the woman who likes to have control,” he counters with a grin. “Or… do you just want to be my pillow princess?”
You consider it for a moment. “You know what, yeah, let me get on top, I want to watch you when you cum.”
Jaehyun physically shivers from your words, and you watch his pupils dilate with interest. “Fuck,” he groans. “Yeah, get on top.”
It’s a quick adjustment, with Jaehyun dragging you onto his lap. You sit down on his cock and both of you groan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you like this, and you press your hands to his chest, steadying yourself for a moment.
Then, you begin to bounce.
Jaehyun throws his head back against the pillows, moaning deeply.
Fuck, he’s so hot like this.
There’s something so erotic about being on top, on knowing that you’re going to be riding him when he cums.
Your whole relationship has been about competing for power, and now, in the midst of one of the most vulnerable exchanges of power, Jaehyun had stopped from his position on top to give you the opportunity to be in control.
You like that. You like it a lot.
It shows he hadn’t been lying when he’d talked about the two of you glowing together, and it gives you a newfound kind of hope for whatever relationship is budding between the two of you.
You ride him harder at the thought, and his hands find your hips, helping you bounce.
“Fuck, fuck-” Jaehyun groans, his fingers digging into your skin. “Feels so good.”
In all honesty, the first position had felt better for you, when he was doing all the work, but you’d never admit that to him, especially not while deep in the throes of passion like this. He’d already made you cum, and now, you want to return the favour.
You ignore the burning in your thighs, fucking Jaehyun in a way you’ve never fucked a man before. You can feel the power of it bubbling inside of you, and you focus on his expression, on the pleasure that’s written all over him.
“Jae,” you groan, “want you to cum for me.”
“Don’t-” he swallows thickly. “Don’t you want me to hold out a little longer?”
“It’s our first time, we have flights tomorrow,” you retort. “Just let go, I wanna feel it.”
“You and your scheduling,” Jaehyun laughs, but it quickly turns into a groan, his eyes closing again. “Fuck, okay, but you have to let me make it up to you sometime.”
“Next time we see each other we can spend hours fucking,” you tell him.
“Promise?”
“I promise, now be good and cum for me, yeah?”
Jaehyun shivers again, and there’s a slight look of confusion on his face. You get the sense that he’s not used to being talked down to like this- but it’s clear it turns him on in a new, foreign sort of way.
“Okay, yeah.” Jaehyun anchors himself against the bed, and then he begins fucking up into you, his muscles rippling under his perfect skin. “Shit, fuck-”
You watch the pleasure build in him, until he reaches his peak. The tension clearly snaps, and he lets out a deep groan that goes straight to your core.
You continue to ride him, intent on helping him through it-
Jaehyun grabs you and pulls you down to his chest, holding you still as he shoots his load deep in your pussy. He’s groaning in your ear, hips twitching-
God, you love the way you’re pinned like this, the way he’s cumming so hard he needed you to just stop.
You allow him to finish, and his grip slowly lets up on you. He’s no longer using his strength to keep you still, he’s just holding you, the two of you panting desperately.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah,” you mumble.
“That day, behind my trailer, the first time I held you,” Jaehyun clears his throat, “could you feel my heart racing the way it is now?”
“I was more focused on my own heart,” you admit.
“Yeah?”
“It was going pretty fast.”
Jaehyun releases a laugh, holding you tighter. “Guess we were both in for it, huh?”
“Guess so.”
Jaehyun holds you a little while longer, and then he sighs. “I should let you get your beauty sleep.”
“Yeah, but you can stay over if you want.”
“Really?”
“Could you imagine how much people would react if the paparazzi got a picture of you leaving my hotel tomorrow morning?”
Another chuckle escapes him. “You and your PR training.”
“You love it,” you insist.
Jaehyun releases a sigh, burying his face closer to your throat. “I do love it.”
You’re from the same world, the same industry, and no one has ever understood you or your job the way Jaehyun does.
Wrapped in his arms, the two of you set to fly to different countries in just a couple of hours, something about him just feels so right.
You’ve spent your whole life trying to be someone else for other people, for your management team, for your fans- but with Jaehyun, maybe you can just be exactly who you are, professional obligations and all.
He’d said it himself, he’d seen your glow from the moment you met, even as awkward kids on a tv show trying to make names for yourself. He’d seen your sparkle before you’d even seen it in yourself, and now, maybe he’s right. Maybe you can learn to glow together.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I kind of loved working on this au, I know it's not classical 'he's an actual cowboy' but I really loved working with Jae as this character
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!
🔮 preview. You’ve been in love before, but it was always different. You were always with men who saw you as a prize. They put you on a pedestal, and it was often one sided with genuine empathy. You were a support in their lives, as opposed to a form of mutual understanding.But Jaehyun understands you, so you can confidently say he’s the sweetest love you’ve had.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, worship kink, substantial foreplay/prep, fingering, squirting, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, dirty talk, praise, man handling, anal (thumb in the butt), etc… I petnames. (hers) superstar.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 180
🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader
bonus
“Wow,” you breathe, staring out at the crowd as you clutch the Grammy in your hand. “I can honestly say, I never expected this award. To win Best Music Video, I just- I’m in shock. I want to thank my parents, my label, my team of wonderful people, production, styling, Hwasa, who directed the video, and Mark, my manager. I want to thank my fans especially, I wouldn’t be anywhere without you. And, I also want to thank my amazing scene partner, Jaehyun. I know a lot of people were confused about Jae being the Model Cowboy, but he showed up to set, and something just clicked. We made magic with this one, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Thanks again, wow, thanks.”
You’re practically shaking as you make your way off the stage to go rejoin your group of people in the audience. Hwasa and Mark both give you a hug, and Johnny pats you on the back. When you reach Jaehyun, he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as he presses kisses along your face.
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#jaehyun#jaehyun smut#jeong jaehyun#jung jaehyun#jeong jaehyun smut#jung jaehyun smut#nct#nct smut#nct 127#nct 127 smut#jaehyun nct#nct jaehyun#jaehyun x reader
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Yandere! Caleb:
Content: Non proof-reader; Gaslight + Manipulation + Lying; Established relationship + Somnophilia + Masturbating with clothes + Possessiveness + Riding + Size difference + Praising + Dumbification + Overstimulation + Thigh riding.
Note: I have never been a Caleb hater, so of course I had to write something about this cutie... Have you all seen the trailer? What do you think about him? I'm actually quite glad that they added someone who better fits the role of a dark romance, as Sylus was just a green forest contrary to what he was presented as. Let me know if you want in comments/private messages!! Also, sorry if it seems a bit too short :((
SFW:
Yandere! Caleb, who has known you since childhood, thus it is only natural that he knows every single small detail about you. What do you mean by saying that it's not normal for him to know the exact measures of every single inch of your body? He has known you for over eleven years, it's only natural.
Yandere! Caleb who sometimes takes advantage of your kind heart, remarking just how close you are, gaslighting you into thinking that some of the stuff he does for you is completely normal between friends. I mean, of course friends tell each other where are they every single second, and of course they know all of their other friends.
Yandere! Caleb who also uses the advantage of being a bit older than you, so you just have to trust his advices. He knows best, and he loves you, so how could you even doubt him?
Yandere! Caleb who slowly makes sure to get rid of your other friends, specially those who seem a bit too eager to hangout with you. He does this by lying, asking you to help him searching for the perfect gift for grandma, as he wasn't completely sure if that would actuall suit her taste. Or maybe getting sick on purpose, bathing with freezing cold water, staying there for a few hours just to make sure you would refuse to leave him all alone.
Yandere! Caleb who overprotected you since he was young, always holding hands with you until you started to get shy about it. He was always leading you, his magnetic gaze making it impossible to refuse his requests.
Yandere! Caleb who starts to train late at night as a way to stop his own urges to chain you to him. Punching the training bag as he keeps reminding himself that if he does that it would mean breaking the façade he had spent so much time creating just for your entertainment.
Yandere! Caleb who buys you a beautiful necklace for your birthday, he smiles brightly as he helps you put it around your neck. You were still unaware, but this was just one of the most tame ways he came up with to show just how much he wanted you only for him.

NSFW:
Yandere! Caleb who sometimes makes his way inside your house late at night, the keys to it in his pockets as you had given them to him in case he ever needed a place to rest, or he simply wanted to pay a visit. He rummages around your drawers, searching for anything that has your scent, he presses it to his nose, smelling that sweet scent as he feels his erection grow under his pants. He bites his lips as a way to keep himself from undoing his belt and start to touch himself just from imagining your precious face smiling at him.
Yandere! Caleb who enjoys using his own body weight as he fucks your pretty pussy, making you whine and mewl each time he increases the pressure against your lower tummy causing his dick rubbing even more against your insides. Even despite you cling to the sheets for dear life as he plunges against you, he simply smiles sadistically, one of his hands petting your hair as he keeps watching you try to stop yourself from spilling out all those lewd moans by biting on the pillow. His mind rushing as he imagines all those damn "friends" hearing you melt under him just from him moving his hips a bit as he forces his way into you.
Yandere! Caleb who loves seeing the necklace he gave you recoiling against your chest each time he helped you to move up and down his cock, nails digging on his back as he kept hitting that sweet spot, kissing your neck as he whispered sweet nothings against your ear: "You're doing so good for me, yeah, keep moving your hips baby..." [...] "Are you getting tired, baby? Let me help you." Suddenly, his hands wrap around your hips, forcing his whole length on a single thrust, a squeal leaving your mouth as the tip of his cock suddenly hit against your cervix, eyes rolling back as he kept pressing his cock against you, mainting you completely still as he kept praising you. "Shh... You're doing so good for me, taking my whole cock inside you... So good baby, so good for me... Just a bit more, yeah? Gotta make sure you get all dumb and pretty for me, right?"
Yandere! Caleb who loves dirtying your face with his cum, allowing you to give him head, his fingers making their way into your lower half, using his rough fingertips to play with your clit as you started to spread soft kisses all over his length. By the time he finally cums, your mind was completely melted from cumming all over his fingers and mouth, sucking on his cock mindlessly as he moved his hips in a slow rythm, only increasing it as he came inside your mouth. When he opened his eyes, he found a precious sight, your mouth slightly open as a few strings of his cum escapep from your soft lips, your eyes looking at him as if you were dazed, glistening with a mixture of pure love and devotion. He quickly cleans it, kissing your lips as lets you rest on top of him, peppering soft kisses all over your face. "You did amazing, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me."
Yandere! Caleb, who sometimes becomes extra mean with you, making you mewl as he forces you to orgasm just from using his knee, having you ride them as he looks at you with an unamused look on his face. You keep rubbing against his clothed lower half, pleading between soft moans to get him to touch you, whispering things like: "Please, please, please, just the tip-- Can't take it anymore... Caleb please--". By the time he decides to get you to cum, you are already a panting mess, drool falling down your chin as your mind is already too far gone, tears falling down your face from the frustration. Before you are even able to realise, Caleb is already forcing you to cum all over your panties, his fingers rubbing against your clothed clit as you mumble a few words of gratitude.

#fanfiction#x reader#love and deepspace#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#lnds caleb#caleb lnds#caleb love and deepspace#caleb x reader#caleb smut#lnds#l&ds#caleb lads#smut#yandere x reader#yandere content#love and deespace smut#lads x reader#l&ds smut
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ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣’𝕤 ℝ𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟’ 𝔼𝕧𝕖 - ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕟 𝕆𝕟𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕥
+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘
𝙱𝚘𝚍𝚢𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛



warnings: pet names, swearing, angst, fighting, rough touch, kissing, degradation, name calling, possessive!rafe, jealous!reader, protective!rafe, rough oral male receiving, gunplay, spanking, overstim, cum licking (floor), choking, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, teasing, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, creampie, ownership kink, brat taming, no safe words
from this au if you want to read about the night they got together 🌹
📖 the reader has been secretly dating her bodyguard. During her NYE performance, she learned she’s not the only one he crossed the line with.
⭐ unedited ⭐
Reader's POV:
The backstage area is a whirlwind of costumes, stagehands, producers, and backup dancers. You eye yourself in the mirror, body hugged in a glittering black bodysuit with thousands of sequins that catch every stray light beam.
You should be basking in the excitement of a childhood dream come true—after all, millions of viewers are about to watch you perform a duet on New Year's Rockin’ Eve. But the second she walked inside, any excitement you might have felt went out the window.
Bella Dean.
She's the diva you're supposed to share the big closing number with: petite, curvy, absolutely stunning. Her talent is almost as big as her ego.
Bella’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “Look at you, baby,” she coos, sashaying up to you, flashing a smile that makes your stomach flip. “You okay? You look a little sick?” She asks, pouting her lip, her tone almost demeaning; clearly commenting on your appearance and not the state of your health–just being a fuckin’ bitch.
You fake a smile as your pulse spikes. “Sick?” You ask through a breathy laugh as you raise an eyebrow at her.
“Ill? Not feeling well? Under the weather? You don’t know what sick is?” She asks, returning a nasty laugh.
“I feel just fine. Thanks for your concern,” you reply, your face twisting slightly.
"Of course," she purrs. "I think my makeup girl’s around here somewhere… Maybe it’s just because you look a little dull. I’m sure she has some highlighter or something to add a little sparkle,” she adds a little extra sweetness to her voice at the end, her cruelty making you feel like you could lose your mind as you try to remain professional. Your fingers tighten around your microphone as you try to focus on what’s coming next instead of the 5’2” nightmare beside you.
She steps out just before your cue, hitting the stage first, looking back at you with a wink and a smug smile you wish you could hurl your mic at her face.
You take a calming breath, reminding yourself that this will be a few minutes. You have a whole night ahead of you to look forward to. A night with him… Rafe stands off to the side, looking devilishly handsome in his all-black suit. He folds his arms over his broad chest, looking into the crowd, eyes trailing the space as usual.
You turn back to Bella, your eyes finding hers, her ruby-red lips curling into a wicked smile, making a knot of unease tighten in your belly. She quirks her eyebrow, stepping closer; too close for your liking. “That bodyguard of yours…” she says, tipping her head toward Rafe, making her platinum blonde curls bounce. “I haven’t seen him in a minute.”
You fiddle with your microphone, trying to seem as unbothered as possible, but she sees right through you.
“Rafe?” She chirps, making your eyebrows shoot up as his name leaves her lips effortlessly. “Mhmm… Rafey. Ugh, don’t tell me he didn’t mention me,” she tosses her hair to the side. “I’m sure he had an interview. That wasn’t brought up?”
You purse your lips, look out toward the crowd, and try to distract yourself.
“Don’t tell anyone, but we did get a little cozy on my last tour,” she leans in, giddily gossiping like she’s talking to a friend, but we both know what she’s doing. How unprofessional of me, right?” she chides as she smiles out to the crowd, giving them her million-dollar smile before blowing them a kiss.
You feel your body tremble as the adrenaline of the night and this admittance courses through your veins. Rafe did mention he’d once made a mistake by getting involved with a past client, but he never mentioned a name–her name. You swallow hard, clearing the lump in your throat as your mind starts spinning out, thinking of what the two must have done behind closed doors.
“That doesn’t sound like Rafe,” you assure.
“So you didn’t know. Ouch.” She flicks her gaze toward him again. “Doesn’t sound like you’re working the man to his full potential.”
You bite your cheek, lips tightening as you try to hold back your outburst. “Well, if you are and you don’t kiss and tell, just know he has a habit of getting too close. I just want you to be careful,” she pouts again, her voice like nails on a fucking chalkboard as the band starts to play around you.
And with that, she glides away, leaving you breathless and seething as she walks to the front of the stage. Your cheeks burn as you glance at Rafe from the wings. He catches your eyes with a concerned expression–the man no doubt reading your emotion like a book. Even though he has no idea what the fuck just happened, he knows something’s off with you. His eyebrows pinch together, beautiful features hardening.
Bella and Rafe? I can’t fuckin’ handle this right now.
The crowd roars excitedly as Bella’s voice pours out of the speakers. Your heart bangs with the opening beats of the song. You look toward the camera as it pans to you, forcing a smile. Your voice wavers as your anxiety gets the better of you–Bella looking toward the wings at Rafe as well, painting a picture of what their exchanges might have looked like in the past, her stealing little glances at him from center stage instead of you.
The lights sweep over you, and the first note leaves your lips. Your muscles tighten as the pitch wavers, just a hair off, but it’s enough for Bella to shoot a look back at you. Your stomach aches, heartbreaking, as you feel yourself starting to fumble while Bella shines. You push harder–the melodies leaving your lips sounding anything but natural.
Bella steps forward, delivering her verse perfectly, making the crowd scream. Her eyes twinkle as she passes you, making your blood boil. You lose track of the music for a split second, coming in a beat too late, making the blonde smirk in your peripheral vision. Fucking cunt.
You take a deep breath with the guitar break, straining to gather your emotions, trying to remind yourself of the night and how you’ll hate yourself if you let her ruin it for you. You turn toward her, melting your voices together in perfect harmony. The tension between you is thick, but it doesn’t read that way–the crowd, eating up every second of the duet.
The music cuts and the crowd goes wild. Bella moves toward you for the planned hug, but you step away and wave to the crowd. As she waves, you feel her arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in for a half-hug. Bella leans in, looking up at you, feigning concern. “You were a bit shaky. Are you okay?”
“Fuck off,” you hiss through a gritted smile to the crowd.
She gasps surprisedly before resting her head on your shoulder. “Don’t be upset, babes. Let me know if you are ever in the market for a new bodyguard. I always find the best ones,” she winks. “Have a happy New Year.”
You resist the urge to run, walking off the stage gracefully before storming toward your manager, taking your purse off her hands before snapping your focus to Rafe. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was Bella you messed around with, huh?” You hiss, quiet enough to meet his ears only as you glare at him.
“This isn’t the right place,” he warns as he looks through you even still, eyes scanning the crowd.
“No, Rafe,” you snap. “This is the perfect fucking place. I just found out about your little fling from Bella. Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Rafe steps closer, looking you in the eyes, making you draw a little breath. “Not now.”
“Forget it,” you scoff, and before he can stop you, you flee the scene, disappearing into the thick crowd of backstage traffic. You walk through the double doors, looking to the left at the long line of dressing rooms before taking a risk, pushing through the side door.
The winter wind whips as you walk through the tight, dark alley, heels clicking against the asphalt with each step as you head toward the main street. Fans and paparazzi push in around you, yelling your name, but you keep your head down, pushing ahead.
You look down the block, knowing your hotel is close, but how close? You shove through the thick crowd, still waiting to get into the venue. The middle of the road is packed, too, with a barrage of people gathered, waiting for the ball to drop. You lift your eyes for a moment. Halfway there… You cross your arms tighter around your waist, trying to keep warm while holding yourself back from answering the phone vibrating like crazy in your purse.
Silence.
You sigh in relief as you walk into the swanky downtown hotel. The noise behind you falls away. The lobby's hush and glamor starkly contrast what’s happening on the other side of the revolving door—velvet chairs, marble floors, and the soft golden glow of chandeliers hanging overhead.
You draw a deep breath and blow it out slowly, looking to your left. Your head hangs with mental exhaustion as you step toward the hotel bar, pushing through the door before heading toward the rail.
You order your drink, asking for a double, hearing your voice tremble with anger and stress. You stare at your reflection in the barback's mirror, your makeup perfectly done, stage outfit on; your hairstyle to perfection, but that was just a facade. You felt far from perfect underneath–completely broken.
Rafe seems so poised and professional. It was so hard to break his icy exterior…
As childish as it sounds, you felt special. He seemed so untouchable that when you were able to break through, you felt like maybe there was something different about you.
He didn’t seem like someone who would sleep with his clients, and now you can’t help but think just how many people he had took care of like he was taking care of you.
Bella… What if it wasn’t special, though? What if it was just a one-time thing–a fling, and Bella was trying to get in your head? You grab your drink, lifting it to your lips, downing half of it fast, letting it sear your throat, trying to numb your thoughts.
She wanted this to happen. You hated yourself for letting her affect you the way she did. The truth is, she saw you fall apart in front of her, catching every missed step and note; each misstep was a win for her.
The bar is quiet, the low roar of the New Year’s celebration humming outside. The soft jazz piano swells in the background, paired with the soft conversations of the guests dressed to the nines. No one bats an eye at your arrival; no one asks for anything from you, letting you sit for a moment and breathe.
“Sir!” You hear the shrill call of someone from the lobby. A sudden commotion on the other side of the door pulls you out of your peace as Rafe storms in. He looks down at his phone, eyes scanning from left to right. Your heart falls as he zeros in on you, his nostrils flaring with anger, contrasting with the look of relief in his striking blue eyes.
He sucks his teeth, holding himself back from cursing you out on sight. His Gucci suit jacket is half undone, his toffee-colored hair mussed, and his sharp jaw is set in a straight line. He looks fuckin’ angry, completely winded, like he's been fighting through thick crowds, going to Hell and back to get to you. Good. Let him be angry. Why should I have to suffer alone?
Rafe makes a beeline for you, his long legs crossing the room in a few strides. The bartender walks over, asking how he can serve him, his voice quickly fading as he sees the look in Rafe’s eyes. Your bodyguard thumbs through his wallet, slapping $100 on the counter before grabbing your arm.
“We’re leaving,” he hisses, tugging you off the barstool. You gasp, your unfinished drink sloshing onto the floor as he steers you back toward the exit.
You yank your arm back, disregarding the curious glances around you, shooting daggers at your brooding bodyguard. “You don’t get to boss me around right now,” you hiss as you fight him off, but it only makes his fingers twist a little tighter around your arm.
“Once wasn’t enough?” He snarls.
“Spare me the lecture,” you sass. “M’not in the mood for you —fuckin’ drama queen.”
Rafe leans in, his warm breath hitting your skin as he pulls you toward the elevator. “Do you have any fucking idea how reckless that was? Runnin’ out there alone on the busiest night of the year? In the busiest city? Are you insane? And you’re alone-”
“Did I look alone?” You snap as you lift what’s left of your drink. “Didn’t pour this shit myself,” you laugh tauntingly before shooting it back.
He scoffs annoyedly as his grip on you tightens even more. “So you’d rather run away and have somethin’ awful happen to you, risk my whole fuckin’ career than talk to me about what you found out?”
“Correct,” you clip. “Now, let go of me.”
“Let’s make a deal, tough girl. You can get outta my fuckin’ grip, then you can go. I happen to like you... I’m not some insane stalker who wants to wear your fuckin’ skin. Aight? It ain’t safe out there for you, and for some reason, you think that your best option is to run,” he hisses as he bangs his fist against the up button.
The elevator door glides shut, leaving the two of you alone. You both stand next to each other, seething for different reasons. Rafe tosses your arm away when you fight against him one last time, making you push out an exaggerated breath.
Elevator music fills the space around you, so light and cheery it’s almost satirical at the moment. You stand side to side with your bodyguard, arms crossed over your chests, both of you waiting for the other to break.
“You have no right-”
“Run off again, and I swear to fuckin’ Christ,” he cuts you off.
“You wouldn't be mad? Really?”
“‘Course I would be. I'd be fuckin’ irritate, but I’d wait ‘til I got back to the hotel to say somethin’ like a fuckin’ adult. Not run away like a goddamn child-”
“I’m not-”
“A child,” he cuts you short, finishing your sentence as he turns toward you, his voice low and lethal. “You’re not a fuckin’ kid. Aight? You’re a grown-ass woman. Start actin’ like it before you get yourself hurt.”
You turn toward his chest, too, and look up into his eyes, not backing down. “You told me you once crossed a line with a client but never said it was her. She wasn't even mentioned on your resume, Rafe. Why was that?” You ask breathily, letting your defiance and disgust bleed through.
“That shit doesn't change the fact that that was a bad decision, princess,” he returns your same tone, that term of endearment he loves to use coming out as anything but endearing.
“Let’s talk about good decisions, Rafe. Her? I'm questioning you and your fuckin’ taste level. Bella is a cunt. It would have been nice to know this before sharing the stage with her so I could have been prepared for her bullshit instead of being blindsided and ruining that moment for myself.”
“Ruining your moment? What the hell are you talking about?” He asks in disbelief. “Your performance was perfect.”
“The fuck it was, Rafe,” you scoff as you step out of the elevator without him. “Your performance was perfect,” you mock him. “Bella’s performance was perfect, Rafe… And tomorrow, when there’s a review on Rolling Stone, maybe you’ll get it through your thick fuckin’ head.”
Rafe runs his fingers through his hair; frustration etched into every line on his handsome face. “Baby,” he mumbles as he softens his tone and closes the space between you and him. “I screwed up by not tellin’ you before tonight. M’sorry. But you can’t keep runnin’ off when you’re mad. I’m your bodyguard; I have to protect you whether you like me or not.”
You wave your keycard in front of the door handle, rolling your eyes at his apology, if you could even call it that. “Well, Rafe… Maybe you should be better at protecting your secrets,” you grumble, going to shut the door behind you, but Rafe clutches it tight, pushing against you with minimal effort, making you growl in frustration. You toss your clutch onto the sofa, kick off your heels in protest, and rip off your earrings for dramatic effect.
"You lied by omission, Rafe. You said you 'made a mistake' once with a client but never told me it was Bella. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?”
He sighs as he strips himself of his jacket, tossing it off before loosening his tie. “Jesus Christ, baby. I was gonna tell you. Just not right before you had to perform with her."
"How considerate,” you breathe, your sarcasm palpable, making his cheeks flush with anger.
“Bella is toxic-”
“No shit,” you laugh.
“She'll do anythin’ to get under your skin-” he starts.
“Jesus, Rafe! Tell me something I don’t fuckin’ know!”
“I screwed up with her, yes… But do you know how long ago that was? That was at the start of my career. I was still tryin’ to figure shit out. I was young-”
“So, is this a serial thing for you, Cameron? Or am I an exception?” You ask, with a lifted brow as you pop open a bottle of De Venoge Louis, eyes shifting over to him. “Just another one of your favorite pop stars?”
“Enough,” he groans tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he paces the room. “You know that's not how I see you… You gotta stop.”
“And how do you see me?” You ask. “I know how I see you…” You mutter, foregoing the glasses altogether, lifting the bottle to your lips instead.
“Not gonna tell you how I feel right now.”
“What the hell does that mean,” you laugh, dribbling champagne on your chin as you look up at him, fluttering your lashes in confusion.
“Because you’re actin’ irrational. This is not the time.”
“Stop telling me that it’s not the time, Rafe. Oh my god,” you whine, voice brimming with frustration.
“I get that you’re upset,” he scolds. “But runnin’ off into the city alone after a show and putting yourself at risk like that over Bella Dean was fuckin’ stupid, regardless, and you know that. Come back here… And lose your shit. Hell, you’re yellin’ at me right fuckin’ now. Only difference is you’re safe.”
“Sorry for makin’ you do your job, Rafe.”
He nods his head, a look in his eyes like he’s going absolutely insane. He crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps flexed, looking like it could tear the fabric apart. “N’to be clear. Chasin’ you is my job?”
“Dunno. Wasn’t at the job interview… Not quite sure what your scope of work was, but I assume the details of your job didn’t include sleepin’ with me either-”
“You’re begging for trouble, you know that?” He shouts, his loud voice hitting your chest hard, making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight.
“M’Terrified,” you giggle, trying to hide your nervousness as your heart rate starts to climb. His eyes narrow on yours–a mix of anger and something darker.
He walks over, looking down at you perched on the velvet lounge chair. You gasp as his hand comes around your throat, his grip tightening and tightening. He lifts you to your feet, pulling you chest to chest. “Keep talkin’ back and see what the fuck happens.”
You look at him with dead eyes, seemingly unimpressed by his threats, letting your eyes roll in the back of your head. Rafe tightens his grip a little more, making you sputter out a breath.
“Keep rollin’ those eyes at me, too, while we’re at it,” he growls. “You think I won’t give you a lesson?”
Adam's apple bobs in his throat, lip snarling as you refuse to submit. Rafe yanks you forward, crushing his lips against yours in a deep, desperate kiss. You go to shove him away, but his fingers find your hair, twisting into the strands, tugging you closer, forcing you in place. The air leaves your lungs as he shoves you into the wall, never breaking your kiss.
When he finally tears his lips away, you’re both breathless, chests heaving, longing for more.
“You’re fuckin’ impossible,” he rasps, blue eyes blazing with lust, his rasp voice taut and hoarse. “Run off, you don’t fuckin’ listen, and then you come back here and pick stupid fuckin’ fights, spoutin’ off shit we both know ain’t true.”
“Maybe you deserve it, Rafe. Did you ever think about that-” Rafe silences you with another kiss–more longing and possessive than the last. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him into your lips.
Rafe breaks away again, leaving you chasing his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you panting into each other, desperate for more.
“I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” he whispers, voice vibrating with tension. “Next time you try this shit, just know I’ll chase you down. Next time you roll your fuckin’ eyes at me, I’ll pin you where you stand. You can’t keep doin’ this shit without consequences.”
Your heart pounds in your ears, pussy pulsing as you listen to all of his threats– his words honestly having the opposite effect. Looks like he’s the one begging for trouble.
“Fuckin’ do it, Rafe,” you dare him, smiling against his lips, “you think I'm scared of you?"
“Think you're braver than you should be, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, Rafey? You gonna punish me?” You ask.
“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” he says, firm and cold, making goosebumps spread across your body. He leans in, pinning you against the wall, pressing his big body into you. Rafe kisses along your neck, teeth scraping your ear. “Don’t even think we have a safe word. Do you?” He asks, and you can hear that crooked smile in his voice.
“N-No,” you whisper, trying to recall, but you honestly don’t think you could at this moment, the way his body surrounds you, his rich cologne clouding your senses completely.
“Shit, baby… Guess you’re outta luck.” You gasp as he picks you up off your feet, slinging your body over his shoulder. “Maybe if you start behaving-” Crack! He slaps your upper thigh harshly, making you scream. “Maybe we can think of one together, hmm?”
Rafe throws you down on the bed, making the last bit of air in your lungs escape. He strips himself out of his button-down shirt, quickly working himself out of his pants before tossing his belt and gun onto the bed.
“Wh-What are you gonna do with those?” You ask, hearing your voice tremble.
Rafe clears the space between you, lowering his hands on the mattress as you look wide-eyed at him.
“Aww, princess… You know me. I love leavin’ out little details,” he smiles wickedly.
Rafe grabs the front of your bodysuit, tearing the delicate material open effortlessly, sending rhinestones and beads flying onto the bed and the hardwood floor as he tears away the custom piece without batting an eye. He pulls the material down your thighs, tossing it to the floor before grabbing your hips, manhandling you to your belly on the bed, your ass in the air, and your feet on the floor.
“FUCK!” You scream as his big hand comes down, slapping your bare ass, leaving behind a tingling sensation. Before you can even react, he does it a second time, then a third, making tears pool in your eyes and wetting the mattress. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“The fuck was that, tough girl?” He asks through a breathless laugh.
“I-I… Fuck you,” you whimper, trying to stand strong. Rafe grabs a fistful of hair, yanking you back, his head lowered to match your eyes.
“Fuck me? You told me to do this shit, baby girl… You’re the boss. I’m just doin’ my job.” Rafe uses his hold on your hair to push your face into the mattress, pushing two thick fingers into your soaked core. “Listen up, princess,” Rafe huffs. “You deserve this. I’m not gonna put up with this shit, aight? You’re lucky I’m even fuckin’ touchin’ you.” Rafe pumps his fingers in your pussy, finger-fucking you mercilessly as you try your best to wiggle away. “Stop squirmin’,” he chides. “Hands behind your fuckin’ back.”
The second you do, Rafe grips the against your lower back, the palm of his hand clapping against your ass as he fingers stroke your G-spot. Your thighs start to tremble, pussy tightening around his big fingers. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moan.
“Yeah? You wanna cum?” He taunts.
“Please,” you whisper.
“Think it’ll fix that little attitude of yours?”
“Yes, fuck!” You cry.
“I’m not sure it will…” Rafe sighs sadly. “I’ll let you cum tonight. But I swear if this shit happens again. M’not… Not until you’re at my hotel door beggin’ and cryin’ for my dick like a whore.” Rafe pulls his hands out of your soaked cunt, slapping your pussy fast and tough, making you cum hard, sobbing as your pussy flutters around nothing, your hands still pinned tightly against your back. Rafe fucks his fingers into your cunt, darting them inside you at an insane pace, and seconds later, you’re coming again, pussy gushing around his hand, landing on the floor with a little splash.
And even then, he doesn’t stop, his fingers just sopping through the mess as you fight against him, crying in overstimulation and pleasure. “Rafe, please. Please. Please.”
“What?” He spits.
“I-I… Mphff… Safe… Safeword,” you hiccup.
He booms out a laugh. Drawing both his hands back in surrender. Completely mocking you and the mess he made of his favorite girl. “You’re kiddin’ me?” He teases as he rests his hands on the bed, lowering himself to your ear, his chest brushing against your bare back. “Safeword?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you pant. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Jeopardizing my job, your life, our fuckin’ relationship over a bitch then means nothin’ to me. That’s the least you should be,” Rafe scolds as he grabs your hips, rolling you to your back.
You look between your thighs, eyes following Rafe as he reaches for his gun. He lifts it, making a show of it, eyeing the weapon in his hand. Your eyes fall down his body, watching his muscular chest rise and fall with his rapid breathing, his gold chain glinting in the dim. The ridges of his abs deepen with every level breath, his hard cock tenting out the fabric of his white Calvins, leaving you craving him even more.
He clicks on the safety, lifting the gun, pointing it at your pussy, slapping the piece against your inner thighs. “Spread your shit,” he mumbles. You widen your thighs on the mattress, your glossy cunt dripping with your arousal. Rafe presses the cool muzzle against your pulsing clit, making your muscles jump and your thighs drawn in. “I said ‘spread your shit,’” he shouts, making you flinch. “What’s it gonna take for you to listen? Huh?”
“I’m sorry, baby. I-”
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Daddy,” he mocks your fucked-out voice again. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” Rafe repeats your words from the fight as he starts to rub little figure eights on your clit. Your body trembles with adrenaline as he continues to work you over with his handgun. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak. “You gonna cum… off a gun? You that big of a slut, princess? You don’t even need a dick?” Rafe mumbles, and right when you’re about to fall apart below him, he pulls it away, leaving you whimpering and fussing for more, your bottom lip wobbling as you look up into your boyfriend’s beautiful, cruel eyes.
“Rafe, you’re being mean…” You whisper, your voice barely above a hush. “I said, ‘I was sorry’.”
“And, I told you not to run away again… N’look what happened. Get on your knees.”
You climb off the bed, stumbling slightly from your weak knees. You land on the floor, crawling the rest of the way to Rafe, glassy-eyed and pouty-lipped. You kneel before him, watching as Rafe lifts the gun slightly, mirroring his dick, the tip of it coated with your slick.
“Suck it.”
Your heart starts to race as you look down the barrel of the gun. You look up at Rafe as you wrap your lips around the end of it, feeling your heart bang in your chest.
You take the cold metal to the back of your throat, taking as much as you can get, gagging around his weapon, sucking it clean, bobbing back and forth with your eyes on him. Rafe looks down at you hungrily, desperately wanting your lips on him and giving him the same service.
“Take ‘em off,” Rafe mumbles, and you slide your wet lips off the gun, racing to pull down his boxers fast. And without warning, he shoves himself in your mouth, pushing as far as his dick would go making you sputter and gag. You reach out, grabbing his tights, squeezing tightly, losing all vision as your eyes fill with tears.
You blink your tears away as he slides in and out of your swollen lips, grunting and moaning, using your mouth like a toy. The sounds around you were downright pornographic, making your pussy weep down your thighs. Your mouth leaked as well, saliva and precum dripping out of the seam.
Rafe finally pulls you off his cock, leaving you gasping for a breath. Before he can give you a command, you wrap your lips around him again in a desperate attempt for mercy, swirling and sucking him off just like he loves. You cradle his heavy balls in your hand, and he throats his hand back to the ceiling, a broad smile spreading on his perfect lips. “Atta girl… Fuck, that’s my good girl,” he praises.
You bob your head back and forth, stroking where your mouth won’t reach, trying desperately to please him. You can feel his cock throb and swell on your tongue, his breathing quickening by the second.
“Better swallow it all, princess, or we’re gonna be back at square one,” he mumbles, only half-kidding. He looks down at you, watching you throat him with all you have, his plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
Rafe pulls out of your mouth, jerking his cock in your face as you lay out your tongue. His warm cum shoots out of his tip, coating your lips and tongue. Your eyes flutter open as you swallow it all, licking your lips to clean up the rest of the mess as you look up at him.
He clicks his tongue, letting his gaze fall, eyeing a few loose pearls of cum decorating the floor. You rest your hands on the hardwood, lowering yourself to lick it up.
“Fuck, princess,” he moans as he looks down at you in lust and adoration. Rafe reaches for you, pulling you off the floor and into his strong arms. You wrap yourself in his, dressing your arms around his neck as his lips press against yours for a tender kiss.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper.
“I’m sorry, princess,” he soothes. “No more punishments. Alright? You took that shit like a good girl. Let me take care of you, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me… This right here—this is what I’ve been wantin’ to do all night.”
“Yeah?” You ask breathily, pecking at his lips.
“You kiddin’ me?” He chuckles as he lays you down on the bed, burying himself in his neck before kissing his way up to your ear. “Just wanted to take care of you. Make you feel good. Hard to think about much else when I see you up there. Can barely focus on keepin’ you safe when I’m just thinkin’ about fuckin’ this perfect pussy,” he mumbles as he slaps his tip against your clit.
Rafe slides his cock between your drenched folds, swirling his head around your hole before sinking in deep, bottoming you out with his long, thick dick. You grab two fistfuls of sheets as he grabs your hips in his big ringed hands, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in.
“So good, baby… Fuck. Damn, you look so good takin’ my cock,” he moans as he starts rutting in and out. You couldn’t even get a word out with the way his dick was slamming in and out of your pussy.
Your eyes roll back in your head, boobs bouncing with each thrust of his hips as you go absolutely dumb on his dick. Rafe speeds up the pace, making your body tremble uncontrollably. Tears of pleasure stream down your cheeks, wetting the pillow below. Rafe reaches down, brushing them away with his thumbs, slipping one between your lips to let you suck yourself numb as he drills into you.
“Come on, princess,” Rafe hums as he feels your body start to tighten around him. “Cream all over my cock. Show me what a good girl does, huh? Let me fill you up. Been so good for me,” he groans as he reaches down, rubbing circles on your throbbing clit as the coil in your belly gets tighter and tighter.
You scream his name, cumming all over his big cock as he fucks you through your orgasm. Rafe gives you a few more rough thrusts, emptying his load deep inside as his hungry lips devour yours, swallowing your whimpers and cries.
“You okay, baby?” He asks sweetly against your lips.
“M’perfect, Rafe,” you coo.
“You are,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “You mad at me still?” Rafe asks as he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.
“No,” you whisper. “Can’t stay mad at you, baby.”
“Mhmm… I know the feelin’,” he laughs. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. You snag your phone out of your nightstand, pulling out your phone, seeing back-to-back messages from your manager.
Claire Baby: Rafe said you were ok. Stop running away. Thnx.
Claire Baby: Rafe mentioned that there was a history between him and Bella
Claire Baby: I told him to save it til after the show so it didn’t fuck with your chemistry
Claire Baby: I had no idea she was such a bitch. I’m sorry. Pls Forgive me.
“Rafe Cameron,” you sigh.
“Mhmm…” He asks as he pulls out of your pussy nice and slow, watching his warm cum leak out of your puffy hole, swirling his fingers around before stuffing it back inside.
“Rafe…”
“What?” He asks as he tilts his head slightly, lifting his fingers for you to suck them clean. You wrap your lips around his fingers, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me you tried to say something?” You ask softly as you look back up at him.
“‘Cause I deserved it… Shoulda told you from the start,” he answers. “No more secrets…”
“No more running,” you whisper.
You roll your head to the side, catching the time on the clock. 11:58 PM… Rafe kisses your cheek lovingly, wrapping his big body in yours. “How do you see me, Rafe,” you ask softly, pulling his focus back to your eyes. He brushes your hair off your face, cupping your cheek in his hand.
“Well, when I see you, I see the future. I see my dream girl. I see the only thing I want to see.”
You bite your lips, fluttering your lashes, the night's emotions getting the better of you.
“I see the woman that I love, princess.”
“You love me?” You whisper, voice laced with tears.
Rafe pulls you into his lips as the world outside the window roars with the new year, the clock striking midnight as your lips meet, your bodies tangled in sheets.
“Of course I love you, baby,” he mumbles.
“I love you too.”
#rafe cameron#rafe#outer banks#obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe x reader#rafe smut#rafecore#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader smut#rafe fanfiction#bodyguard!rafe#bodyguard rafe#older rafe cameron#older!rafe#older!rafe cameron#rafe x female reader#rafe x me
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Swelter



Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”
“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”
“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”
“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”
“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”
“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
“See?” Joel looks triumphant.
“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
“Sarah, I need—“
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”
“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”
You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”
“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”
“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”
“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”
“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”
“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”
“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”
“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”
“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”
“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”
It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”
This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”
“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”
“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.
“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”
“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.
“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”
“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”
“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”
“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”
“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”
“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”
“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”
“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”
He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.
“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“
“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.
“Wrong word,” he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”
“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.
“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”
“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”
“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”
“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
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#pedro pascal characters#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#the last of us#my writing#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller the last of us
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LADYBUG



pairing: dad's friend!hwang inho x fem!reader
warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. AGE GAP (reader is 20, inho is 48) hurt comfort, daddy issues, domestic violence (reader has an abusive father) psychological issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, angst, taboo kinks, fauxcest kink, DDLG themes, sub!reader, soft!dom inho, freudian slip except it's on purpose, reader literally calls him dad and appa and every variation of that title, badly written smut, pet names, infantilization, subspace, oral fixation, obsession, plot with porn.
DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. DON'T COMPLAIN.
summary: your father's friend has been your only saving grace through your abusive childhood. it's only natural that you fall in love with him.
word count: around 9.5k
A/N: consider this a love letter to the lee byung hun girlies with daddy issues. writing this was very self indulgent. i hope you guys like it. if you don't, consider moving on. no hate comments will be tolerated! there are bigger problems to worry about. we do not kink shame around here!
please ignore any mistakes.
p.s. feedback is a writer's biggest motivation!
MASTERLIST

the gravel digs painfully into the skin of your bare feet as you wait. you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself, teeth clattering against each other as you bounce your weight on your feet, breathing sharp. the door opens a few minutes after your incessant knocking, and mr. inho stands at the entrance, frowning. you were sure he was surprised to see you like this— it had been 2 years since you last met.
his soft hair looks messy and he's wearing a comfortable shirt with joggers. he looks so gentle, and his droopy, confused eyes snap wide open when his gaze lands upon your black eye. as if suddenly awake, he gasps your name and immediately grabs you.
"that bastard." he guides you inside, slamming the door behind the two of you. it makes you jump. "i'm going to—"
"don't." you whisper, looking up at him pleadingly. you grab his arm and your lips wobble as he glares down at you. "i don't have anywhere else to go. don't do anything rash. it really was my fault this time."
"nothing you do will justify him beating you." he snaps, settling you on the couch. he mumbles incoherent curses at his friend as he gets the first aid kid, and you fiddle with your fingers, flinching slightly as your tongue catches onto the bleeding split of your lip.
you'd sneaked out despite your father warning you not to. it was your friend's birthday, and you really wanted to be the first to wish her and give her a gift for once. she got you to stay at least till you had some cake, and unfortunately for you, on that same moment your father had decided to come home and immediately seek you out. he'd called your friend in a fit of rage, and as soon as you sneaked back inside, it was too late. to compensate, he'd knocked you into the wall and given you a black eye on top of that.
"i should put handcuffs on that bastard," inho snaps you out of your thoughts, kneeling before you. you wince as he gently applies antiseptic on your lip. "i don't understand why you won't let me. why do you let him do this to you?"
you had your reasons. the more rational ones were that your father was a sick, twisted piece of shit. a waste of space. but you had no one else. no source of income, no other place to stay. you wanted to study enough to be financially independent, and for that you needed him. you don't know any other way to live— he's isolated you from most experiences someone your age should have. you're not sure if you'll be able to get by without his roof over your head.
like always, you switch the subject.
"why are you still friends with him, then?"
mr. inho looks at you then and clenches his jaw. he simply glares for a moment. you're sure you see his eye twitch. he looks offended, and you understand why. you almost regret asking him this question— of course you knew why. you were lucky he was still friends with him. it's one of the reasons you're still alive and kicking.
"i'm not his friend. we just worked together," he grumbles lowly, "and even then i'm still around because of you. is that what you wanted to hear?"
you chuckle slightly, masking your flustered haze with a smirk.
"old man." you whisper with an endearing edge to your voice. he isn't amused. he stands up and gives you an ice pack for your eye. you slump into his couch and groan.
"when did you return from college?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
"last week," you sigh, throwing your head back. the cold ice feels comforting against your heated skin. he frowns slightly and opens his mouth to speak— but you beat him to it.
"i was avoiding you." you answer his question. inho had been to your place a few times since you came, but you made no move to approach him. out of embarrassment and well, because you were scared to see him. it's normal with people you have crushes on.
he seems to understand because he doesn't mention it further.
"are you planning to stay?" he asks gently, putting his hands in his pockets. "i can get the guest room ready. it's been a while since you had a sleepover."
your heart flutters. mr. inho is... you don't have a proper way to describe it.
he's a lot of your firsts. he's everything.
mr. inho was there when you were 9 years old and struggling with math homework. mr. inho was there when your father would get too frustrated to teach you, and he'd put a hand on his shoulder and tell him to take a break. and then he'd place you on his lap, wipe your tears and help you with the gentleness you wish your father possessed.
mr. inho was there when you turned 12 and got your period for the first time. mom had passed away when you could barely walk, so you had no womanly guidance in your stages of growing up. shameful and scared and suffering from heavy fever, you had told your father about it, and instead of comforting you, he'd simply freaked and called you a slut and made all sorts of implications. not knowing any better, you'd locked yourself in the bathroom and immediately called mr. inho's number with shaky hands. and when the door opened and mr. inho walked in with warm towels and a bag full of necessities, you had broken down in his arms and told him everything.
that was the first time you saw mr. inho punch your father. it was also the first time you had seen someone be angry over you, not at you.
to protect you.
that's when you had your first sleepover at mr. inho's place, if you can call it that. your father had shamefully rushed off to the pub after getting an earful from the older man, and you were left alone in the house. mr. inho had brought you to his place, readied the guest room and stayed by your side till you fell asleep. the next day, he'd made you breakfast, and your father had apologized, in his own way.
when you went back home, a bunny plushie was waiting for you in bed. your father said he got it for you, but you could tell it actually came from mr. inho. your father never got you gifts. never. he didn't even know you liked power rangers, or max and ruby, or that dory was your favourite fish from finding nemo.
mr. inho had gotten you power rangers trump cards for your birthday. a malibu barbie doll the next. when you grew into your boyband phase, he got you a pencil box with your favourite idol too. most of the plushies in your rooms were gifts from him— mostly given in secret when mr. inho dropped your drunk father off at your place after a long day. you'd always stay up just for a glimpse of him— not willing to listen when he told you to just go to sleep. sometimes he'd hand you a package, give you a pat on the head and a wink. and then he'd leave, just like that.
you're not sure how mr. inho and your father became friends in the first place, if you can call it that. acquaintances is a better word, but they've known each other too long for that. they worked in the same police department and had partnered up multiple times until mr. inho retired.
most officers said they made a good duo in the professional sense— but their personalities seemed far from compatible.
your father was stubborn and temperamental. he was judgemental, toxic and a brute with a superiority complex. a true narcissist at heart. mr. inho was gentle and kind. he was compassionate and understanding. he was headstrong and stood for what he believed in. he was everything you wished your father was.
you will never understand how someone like him could befriend a man like mr. inho.
you were 13 when you gave mr. inho your first gift. you made him a fucking father's day card— you used to make those for your father when you were younger, and always saw them in the trash can the next day. it hurt you so much that you'd simply stopped.
the incident with your period was a major turning point in your relationship with mr. inho. it changed the way you saw him and in a way, reawakened your creativity. so you brought out your best colors, made him a stupid little card, and gave it to him in secret. hidden amidst the pages of a book your father had borrowed from him with no intention to actually read it. you were too scared and shy to gift it to him directly— you'd simply left the card in there and hoped for the best.
the next time your father dropped you at mr. inho's because he was working late again, you found the card pinned to the fridge. you don't remember being that happy in a long time.
that was the first time mr. inho had given you a forehead kiss. it was innocent and so... normal. like it was part of his routine. he didn't know that he had permanently solidified his place in your heart for years to come.
you were 14 when you first realized you had a crush on mr. inho. it was obvious enough, you just never thought there was actually a term for the butterflies you felt whenever he'd show up at your place to discuss work with your father. all you knew was you looked at him with the kind of admiration a girl could only carry for a loving father, except your feelings had grown a little more shameless over time, your thoughts sometimes vulgar. you'd get increasingly excited at the prospect of seeing him, to the point you saved up some money in secret and bought a lipgloss just so you'd put it on whenever he visited. you'd pout and lock yourself in your room when he wouldn't acknowledge it with anything but a smile and a pinch on the cheek. it's a little stupid to think of— a little girl with a crush trying so hard to impress a grown, married man.
you were 16 when you confessed, and he'd laughed— not mockingly. it was almost paternal. the universal reaction to moments where little girls with no social awareness say something silly like they want to marry their dad when they grow up. he made you feel that small again— he'd patted you on the head and told you that you're too young for him, and made a stupid joke about not planning to go to jail anytime soon. he told you that he loved you, but that this was wrong because he's a married man, and that you should be with someone your age. that this is a stupid crush that would fade with time. that you simply feel this way because you haven't met enough boys.
that had stung, but you forced yourself to get over it.
time passed but the crush did not fade by a single percent.
you tried to get yourself a boyfriend— and ended up comparing any potential date to mr. inho. none of them could match the intensity he carried, the way he cared for you like a father. the strength and authority he possessed. you remember one time when your father was out on a case and mr. inho had decided to babysit you— he'd taken you out for ice cream. a group of rowdy boys were littering the place and laughing among themselves. one of them tripped and crashed into you and you dropped your ice cream. you were too scared to ask for another. mr. inho had paused and shot them a deadpan glare— and the boys stared back before slowly advancing, picking up their litter and throwing it in the bin. they'd bowed in respect, apologized to you and rushed away before he could say anything further. that moment had stuck with you for years— how he could communicate with just his eyes, and people listened.
mr. inho bought you another ice cream with a smile after— with two scoops this time. strawberry and chocolate.
you looked for emotional maturity and a sense of responsibility in high school boys. it was bound to be a failure.
you were 18 when you tried to kiss mr. inho for the first time. it was stupid— it was your last act of rebellion before you went to college. you felt daring because his wife had passed not too long ago. he'd disappeared for a while after that, and his absence only made your longing for him grow. the insults and violence your father aimed at you became background noise eventually, because your mind was set on the one man who meant something to you.
in that time, you missed him so dearly, you were ready to let go of your dignity for one chance with the only man who had ever tried to care for you. you hated yourself for it still— for trying to take advantage of his kindness. he had come back a changed man— visibly stressed with dark circles etched permanently under his eyes. like he'd just been to hell and back. he looked like someone who could use a little something to take his frustrations out on— and you would have let him use you as his punching bag if he wanted. if he wanted a shoulder to cry on, you'd be there. if he wanted a fleshlight, you'd be there then too. that's how much you desired him. you thought you could make him feel better this way.
it was insensitive and utterly insane of you to do something so foolish. you were ready to be with him in any way, even if it meant as a rebound. but he'd stopped your attempt with a firm hand on your shoulder, looked at you with utmost seriousness, and told you to pull yourself together.
'don't do this,' he'd warned. and as if to stomp on your heart further, he reminded you that he loved his dead wife, and you were just a fucking kid.
you were a mess. you never tried initiating anything with him after that. you left off to college, and whenever you did come back, you made sure to avoid him at all costs, no matter how much it hurt you. you'd pretend you didn't see him text you about how college was going, or if you needed any help. you refused to answer his texts asking you to meet atleast once before you left. you were ashamed of your behaviour and too scared to face him. even when you could hear him ask your father about you whenever you visited. your father would make an offhanded remark about you doing god knows what and change the subject.
mr. inho had been more of a dad to you than your own father. he was there to tend to your wounds, to threaten to beat the shit out of your father and put him in jail— but you never allowed him to actually do it. your father was all you had for now, and you're scared to live in a world without a father. you know how harsh society can be to girls like that.
a truth you weren't ready to accept was that a big part of your refusal to let your father go was rooted in your desire to keep mr. inho. your father was your only link to him. if your father went away, so would your need to be protected by him. then mr. inho wouldn't come to your rescue. you wouldn't need safety or a shoulder to cry on. what if mr. inho decided he'd done his work, and moved on with his life? you can't have that. you're not ready.
you couldn't lose him too.
"i can't stay," you whispered finally, breaking eye contact. he nodded in understanding, walking up to you.
"is he asleep?"
you nodded, mindlessly biting your lower lip and flinching at the sting.
he tsked at your action and you stood up to leave. as you walked past him, he grabbed your hand. you looked at him then, and he shook his head.
"don't go to him," he whispered, pulling you closer. you wanted to run, to cower in on yourself. you were sure he didn't mean to appear so lovely. but he did. mr. inho was always lovely to you. tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you looked at him. why does he keep doing this to you? the last memory of you two is painful. but you're still here.
"just say the word and i'll get rid of him." he adds quietly, his palm squeezing your arm comfortingly. you simply stare at him— gaze full of stars like always. like he was your hero. his eyes soften and he sighs, leaning forward to pinch your cheek. you look away out of shame. to prompt you to respond, he messily ruffles your hair. the action almost makes you sob— he used to do that a lot when you were younger. his hand still feels so big compared to you. you compose yourself soon enough, refusing to fall into your adolescent folly.
"don't be ridiculous." you chuckle dryly, snatching your wrist from his hold. you grab the part of your arm that he had held and squeeze— hoping it would magically capture the essence of his grip and lock it away in your senses forever. he sighs tiredly and straightens up, his face hardening.
"i'm sorry." you whisper softly, immediately melting under his disappointed gaze. you regret your harsh behaviour. you show up bleeding at his doorstep at 3 in the morning and he lets you in— and this is how you treat him?
"you know it's not that easy." you add, voice small.
he grunts, rubbing a tired hand down his face.
"i'm sorry i bothered you," you can't help yourself, shifting to look at him more clearly. "i didn't have—"
"—anywhere else to go?" he finishes your sentence flatly with a clench of his jaw. he sounds exhausted, and it makes you want to cry. he scoffs slightly, "stop saying that. my door is always open for you. it always has been. since you were a kid. you know that."
you feel smaller and smaller with every sentence, and you nod sheepishly in agreement. it's true— he has always been there for you in a way no other man ever has. but still you can't help but fear that one day he'll grow tired of this cycle, of you, and straight up leave. he'll get bored of this dynamic and of looking after you and abandon you. you don't want to lose him. the difference between him and your father is that the latter is connected to you by blood— you can use your legal rights if he decides to abandon you. whereas you can't even imagine a world where mr. inho doesn't want to be around you. you don't want to imagine it. it's locked away in the treasure chest of your worst fears. so you simply reject any possibility of that opportunity to arise. would mr. inho still be around if your father didn't hurt you? would he still be around if he didn't feel sorry for you, if you didn't need him to protect you?
you'd rather things stay this way than consider the other scenario.
you avoided any encounter with him for two years, ignored his texts and calls, and now you appear at his door unannounced with a black eye and he still took you in. would he do the same if you had come bearing gifts instead? the idea replays in your head like a broken record.
would he?
you're an insane fucking mess.
he insists on driving you home. you can see the emotions in his gaze— don't leave. make the right choice. but you ignore it like you have for the past few years. you leave despite his pleas, and go right to sleep once you get into bed.
you can hear yelling. the voices are rushed, panicked almost. the floor creaks with each step, and you clutch your plushie close as you press your ear against the door. there's arguing, clattering. the sound of something breaking. more panicked noises. you can hear a siren in the background. your heart rate begins to rise, and when you hear another scream, you snatch the door open.
mr. inho stands over your father's corpse, panting. his knuckles are split and bleeding— splatters of crimson splattered across his face and body. your father's face is quite literally unrecognisable. you look at the broken plates by mr. inho's feet, and the glass shard in his hand. another shard jammed right in your father's chest. and then you scream.
your own scream wakes you up. sweat breaks out across your body and you take heavy breaths— looking around your room. your head hurts. your heart squeezes painfully inside your chest, and it prompts you to get out of bed to grab a glass of water.
you check the time. it's almost noon. shit.
your father is at the kitchen table reading the newspaper when you walk in. he does a double take— mouth curling with distaste as he spots the sight of your face.
you did that, you asshole.
you two don't say a word to each other. he folds the newspaper and places it on the table before breaking the news.
"i'm leaving the city for a case soon."
you pause, turning to look at him.
"i'll get someone to keep an eye on you so you don't whore yourself out to the whole neighborhood like you did last night," he adds casually, like he's talking about the weather. you want to lunge at him, grab the nearest object and toss it at his head. you want to scream 'im a virgin! im a virgin! the only thing that has ever fucked me over is the fact that i'm your daughter!' till the whole neighborhood hears.
"don't disappoint me when i come back."
you ignore his remarks, "when will you be back."
he laughs, "i'll drop in as a surprise." his sly eyes narrow at you playfully but you know better. "catch you in the act if you do something to embarrass me."
he sighs dreamily, tossing his head back, "this is gonna be a big one. i'll definitely get a promotion this time. finally something with real money."
you clench your jaw and focus on making breakfast, trying to erase the flashes of your dream from your brain. the doorbell rings and your father greets mr. inho— who doesn't return his enthusiasm. your father's head is too far up his own ass to think someone might not actually like him so much— he believes anyone who talks to him once becomes his fan. and so he does everything he can to maintain that relationship with them. you suppose it's how he's managed to keep mr. inho around despite it being clear that mr. inho doesn't like him that much anymore. maybe your father only keeps him around so he can flex his promotions as time passes. maybe he keeps him around so he has someone to babysit you. either way, you're just glad he's here.
your father doesn't know how close you and mr. inho are. he knows that the relationship between you is purely... platonic and familial, in a sense.
platonic. you almost chuckle. of course it's platonic. mr. inho rejected the idea of anything other than that.
you try not to be bitter about it.
your father believes you two only see each other during these meetings of theirs, which were more frequent when you were a kid. you're thankful because you're sure if he found out you and mr. inho got along, he would remove him from your life too like he did with all your friends.
mr. inho brought soju. you chop the veggies for your omelette and they chat in private for a while before your father finally leaves— and mr. inho locks the door and joins you in the kitchen. that's when the realization sets in. you almost laugh.
"did he pick you to keep an eye on me while he's gone?"
mr. inho smiles— a twinkle in his eyes as he sits at the table. it's not often that he smiles like that, but whenever he does, it punches the breath out of you.
"just like old times," he remarks with a pleased smirk. "better behave yourself while i'm here, kid."
his words are playful— clearly teasing. but they have your breath hitching. for some reason, you like it when he says them, you wouldn't mind him ordering you around like that. you swallow hard and the sudden shift in your brain chemistry has you fumbling— and you accidentally cut your hand with the sharp knife.
"fuck!" you yelp, dropping the knife. he is immediately at your side, grabbing your hand and guiding it under tap water.
"shit—" he hisses, frowning, "why do you keep hurting yourself? be careful."
you pout slightly, your heart pounding against your chest. he raises your hand to his mouth and mindlessly sucks the blood off. you freeze, eyes widening— breath catching in your throat.
"saliva prevents blood clotting," he explains gently. when he's done, he puts a hand on your waist and turns you to the table. "sit. let me make you breakfast."
"i can do it—" you protest, but he gives you another one of his warning glares and that shuts you up.
you hum and watch him in his element. he's folded his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, confidently grating some cheese on your omelette. you sigh dreamily to yourself, forcing your gaze to stay only at his concentrated face and not at the veins mapped across his strong arms.
when he's done, he places the plate on the table. expertly, he takes a knife and a fork and cuts a piece, and holds it up to you. when you go to grab the fork from him, he tsks and pulls it away.
"let me," he says softly, "i'm finally seeing your face after two years. why don't you let me take care of you, hm?"
you freeze, looking at him dumbly. he takes the opportunity to feed you, and you chew softly. he snorts, takes a bite himself.
why is he talking like this to you? does he not know you're insane about him?
"you can't just say things like that to me." you mumble between bites, voice low.
he ignores your comment, feeding you another piece.
"got yourself a boyfriend back in college?" he asks, his mouth curled into a smirk that he makes no effort to hide. "is that why you were ignoring your old man?"
your heart pangs and you swallow comically slow. you ignore his second remark too. he's talking so casually— you know it means nothing. you can't help but feel like it's cruel of him to act this way towards you, like he doesn't know how much you long for him.
"tried," you shrug, "they never stay. they can tell i have too many issues."
he laughs heartily and you smile. you like making him happy. it's a stark contrast against the last memory you have of him.
"you're not that hard to handle," he adds with a wink, patting your head. if he notices you leaning into his touch like a cat, he doesn't mention it. when he gets you a mug of juice, you drink it obediently, and he tends to the dishes.
"the weather's good today," he remarks casually, "you wanna go out for a walk? i'll buy you some ice cream. just like old times."
that puts the brightest smile on your face. you nod enthusiastically and rush to your bedroom to get dressed— and you try to ignore the flutter of your heart when his laugh follows along with you.
hwang inho is an insane man.
you'd dressed up pretty— your father's absence allows you to indulge in your more... girly clothes. ever since you hit puberty, he never let you wear dresses— called you a slut whenever you tried. as if to protect yourself, you'd grown used to dressing in a more tomboy-ish manner around him.
for this occasion, you put on your cutest dress and your favourite lipgloss, only to be met with mr. inho dressed up in a fucking black shirt with a suede jacket thrown over his shoulder. he looked so chic, it almost pissed you off.
he should not be allowed near black shirts. you don't want anyone else to see him this way.
you don't notice him blinking in a daze when you step down the stairs, and you don't notice the bobbing of his adam's apple when you bend down to put on your shoes.
he doesn't let you. almost immediately, he's gently placing a large palm at your thigh and kneeling before you. your breath hitches again and he gives you a look that is hard to decipher before guiding your foot into your polished mary janes.
"you look different." he mentions quietly, lowering his gaze to your feet.
his thumb tenderly brushes across your ankle, as if examining the softness of your skin. you release a shaky breath as he secures the straps of your shoes.
"a good different?" you ask shyly. you don't want him to think of you as too childish, too immature. you don't want to look like a kid playing dress up. you want to look like a woman to him. a beautiful woman who knows how to dress and look pretty.
he stands up and settles you with an unreadable look. he blinks a few times before composing himself and nodding. if you didn't know better, you'd think he looked flustered.
"a good different."
the walk outside is silent. perhaps it's because things just suddenly felt so intimate between the two of you. or perhaps it's because he's looking for something to say. you aren't, atleast. you're happy walking alongside him in comfortable silence, your hands brushing against each other's but never really touching. you wish he'd grab it and never let it go.
"still prefer strawberry ice cream?" his teasing voice breaks you out of your stupor. you smile.
"of course i do," you huff, looking up at him. you decide to tease him back. "you're still lactose intolerant?"
"should i be honest?" he sighs, looking straight ahead. he's wearing sunglasses, so his eyes are hard to read. "i tried some strawberry ice cream sometime back. some expensive brand. tossed it away after a bite because it tasted like nothing, so i'll never understand why you like it."
his voice lowers— grows almost quiet. a confession.
"i was missing you."
your steps falter and you stare at him. he walks ahead, before turning to face you. you grit your teeth, hold back all the words that are threatening to spill from your tongue.
you missed me? you ate strawberry ice cream because you missed me? you thought of me? i missed you too. i'm sorry for how reckless i've been. i'm sorry for ignoring you. i love you, i love you. please make me yours.
i'm so pathetic.
he cocks his head to the side and holds out his hand. you look at it, then at him, then you reach forward and grab hold of his finger. he chuckles and you hold back a smile as you swing your hands together and walk over to the ice cream stand. he pays and lets you pick.
he receives a phone call, and to your dismay, your hands separate. he holds up a finger telling you to wait before walking a few steps away so he can have his privacy. you resist the urge to pout and go through the menu. the girl behind the counter looks at mr. inho like most girls do— with barely disguised lust.
"holy shit, your dad's hot." she remarks in awe, voice hushed as she holds out an ice cream cone. "is he single?"
your heart flutters at her assumption— you don't blame her. it wasn't the first time he was mistaken as your dad. you've heard a lot of those comments whenever you'd go on walks with him when you were younger. but now, it also fills you with an emotion akin to jealousy. you glance over your shoulder and watch him talk seriously on the phone. you look back at the girl and grab the cone, and give her a sugary sweet smile.
"no," you answer sweetly, "he's dating me."
you hold back the urge to laugh at her bewildered face as you happily skip to him. he looks at the two of you curiously and you grin at him as you grab his finger again.
"what was that about?" he asks, pocketing his phone and you shrug, cheekily licking the ice cream.
"nothing," you hum, walking with a skip in your step. "i missed you too."
he throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close, and you resist the urge to moan when you inhale the smell of his cologne— he always smells otherworldly. ridiculously rich for some reason. rich and comforting and like home.
this time, you convince him to sleep over. even though he was strictly against staying in your room for too long out of respect, you managed to draw him up. he looks around and takes a seat at the bed. your room is still pink— girly in it's essence. you had the craziest pink phase when you were a kid and it bled into everything you owned, from bedsheets and clothes to your walls. mr. inho had also been a major enabler in this situation— he'd gotten you a lot of pink trinkets and toys. your father never allowed you to modify your room after the first time.
"it's like a unicorn threw up in here," he jokes, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around. you roll your eyes fondly, adjusting the sheets. his eyes fall upon your bunny plushie— and you watch his face fall.
"i know it was you who got this." you decide to say, looking away. "you didn't have to do that for him."
"i did it for you," he corrects you, picking it up. it's still in good condition, although its ears have become more droopy, and you've drawn hearts on its plain button eyes. "it was a bad night for you. no kid should have to go through that."
your face softens, eyes getting glassy. cautiously, you take a seat beside him. you fidget with the hem of your dress, not really knowing how to continue conversation with him. you feel a little self conscious now that you're alone with him in your room— after years. the close proximity makes you want to touch him— to crawl into his lap and just stay there. with your saviour who always knows how to make you feel better. your sweet, considerate old man. you want to know what it feels like to be touched by him, to be held by him, to be—
"i like your dress."
the words almost give you a whilpash. your head snaps up and you hold back the enthusiasm in your voice. "really?"
"really," he smiles kindly. your dress rides up as you sit straighter and his eyes fall upon the silver of your skin, and naturally his hand reaches out and adjusts the fabric so it covers your knees. your breath hitches, and his voice lowers into a soft mumble.
"you're such a pretty girl."
you swallow hard— it's like someone is holding your head underwater. you can't fathom how much you needed to hear this— and especially coming from him, you think you're going to die.
i would let you do anything to me.
"really?"
"really." he whispers. something in his gaze shifts, and he looks away. he clears his throat.
"i wanted to come see you in college," he admits, placing the plushie back on the bed. "but you kept ignoring my texts. i wasn't sure if you wanted to see me. you avoided me like the plague whenever you came back, even though i don't blame you."
you look away in shame, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"i'm sorry," you whisper, nervously biting your lower lip. it doesn't hurt anymore. "i felt ashamed after the way i acted when.. you know."
"i understand," he hums, blinking at you. you're glad he doesn't say it directly, you're not ready to confront him like that right now.
"thank you for everything you've ever done for me," you add, shifting on your feet. "and i'm sorry for avoiding you."
a small smile appears on his face.
"look at you," he quips with a chuckle, "you've gotten so mature."
you huff, grabbing the plushie and hitting him with it. he plays along, pretending to be dramatically hurt with every hit. it goes well until you're leaning forward for easier access, and his attempt to snatch the plushie from your hold makes you trip. you crash right into him and he falls backwards onto the mattress, taking you down with him. your face smushes against him, and the way your heartbeat skyrockets would've been comical if you didn't feel him stiffen under you.
you take this opportunity as a golden ticket— burying your head further into his chest. your arms clutch the fabric of his shirt, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes as your body relaxes in his hold. he calls your name softly.
"what are you doing?" he asks, voice strained.
"sorry," you whisper, nuzzling your head further into him. you're willing to throw your dignity out the window for just a moment in his arms— you don't care anymore. you're not past begging.
"please— please, mr. inho, just— let me hug you for a minute, please."
you feel his breath hitch and you sniffle. you force yourself back to reality. you don't want to actually make him uncomfortable. already contemplating killing yourself, you begin to pull yourself away, when his arms suddenly wrap around you.
"mph!" you huff, feeling your body being pulled forward. a big hand comes up to cradle your head against his chest, and another curls around your waist.
"so dramatic," he whispers, his hold tightening. "ill hold you."
"oh my god." you whisper, melting in his arms like putty. you quite literally purr as your body goes limp, and you sigh contentedly, a small smile appearing on your face. like he's your lifeline, you hold onto him tightly.
"my little lady," he whispers. his voice makes your stomach feel warm— it's so velvety and soft. "what's up with you, hm?"
"nothing," you mumble, burying your head in the crook of his neck. you breathe in the comforting smell of him, squeeze your eyes shut as you commit the feeling of being held by him to your memory. "feel so safe.."
he hums, his fingers gently running through your hair. mr. inho is not that tall a man but he still makes you feel so small— so small and so safe, just by his mere presence.
"nobody ever made me feel like this," you admit, your voice cracking. you can't help the emotion seeping into your voice— you're in his arms, and he's petting your hair like you're his child, how are you supposed to breathe? "ive always felt so scared with him but— but with you—"
your voice breaks off as you sniffle again, and you bite down on your tongue as you remember your father. you don't want to think of him right now— you don't want to ruin this moment by crying.
"that bastard doesn't know how lucky he is to have a daughter like you," inho grunts, pressing his cheek against your head. he pulls you impossibly close, cradles you like a fucking baby. "he doesn't deserve to be your father."
the words have you freezing— your body tenses and your breath hitches. nobody has ever said these words to you— you've felt worthless all your life. like a burden, a mistake. like a piece of shit on the shoe that is your father.
inho's hand stills in your hair, and his head tilts towards you so your eyes meet. your lips wobble as you stare at him, and his eyebrows furrow with focus. his thumb brushes against your cheekbone.
"sometimes, i wish i was your father instead," he admits, his voice hushed— like a secret. his gaze runs across your face; almost distant, full of an emotion you can't pinpoint. if you didn't know better, you'd think it was longing. it makes your heart race. "i would never let anything happen to you. you'd be my sweet little girl forever."
the moment those words leave his mouth, you feel like you've been electrocuted. it's like any semblance of rationality has left you— your breath punched out of your lungs and your heart feeling like it's being squeezed. you feel a sharp pain in your chest. the feeling is indescribable. your brain feels like it's shut down. there's nothing there— no thoughts. just pink goop and memories of mr. inho sliding through your head like a powerpoint presentation.
you're not thinking with your mind, that much is clear. he's said the words you've been feeling forever, but never truly had the guts to admit out loud to avoid making things weird. it's like you're being seen for the first time. and with that sentiment, you're leaning forward to press your lips onto his.
he grabs your hair and yanks your head back, separating your mouths with a wet smack. your eyes are dazed as you look at him, and he takes a sharp breath as he glares back at you— nostrils flared, gaze serious. you don't know he's holding onto his last ounce of self control.
"don't do something you can't take back." he warns, voice hoarse.
this is the third time he's rejecting you— it's making you want to kill yourself. your lips wobble pathetically, eyes immediately getting teary as you lean into him.
"please—" your voice cracks, lips parting as you chase his mouth. he restrains you with a firm hold on your hair, mouth twitching. it doesn't hurt, just stings a little. it only makes you long for him more. the visible distress, the conflict on his handsome face only makes you want to cry. you recall his words again, and like a baby, your brain turns into static. all you can think of is how badly you wish he was your father instead. you're not ashamed to beg. you'd do anything, absolutely anything to be his. no matter what way. you just want to be his. perhaps, that's why the words just slip out of your mouth.
"please, dad—"
the moment he hears it, his expression falls. you don't give yourself the liberty to feel shame. all you feel is desperation, sadness. because it's over— you've embarrassed yourself and he's going to think you're fucking weird and you're going to lose him and—
your head is being pulled forward and he's crashing your mouths together. you gasp, eyes widening with surprise, and suddenly he's flipping the two of you over. your back crashes against the soft mattress and he climbs over you, slipping his tongue into your mouth. you moan, your back arching under him. he groans, tilting his head for easier access. your tongues clash together and he kisses you like a man starved. it's utterly lewd and you're gone.
he pulls back with a wet smack, strings of saliva dropping down your chin.
"fuck—" he gasps, voice raspy, "say that again— call me that again."
your heart flutters. you're still out of it, unable to process what's happening.
"m-mr. inho—?"
"no!" he snaps- squeezing your cheeks together and making your lips pucker up. you mewl.
"call me the other thing—" he squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his jaw, as if fighting a war within himself. he's conflicted. "fuck— the other one. call me that again."
you moan as his hand slides down to your neck, and you're immediately slipping. you can feel your brain get fuzzy, and everything feels like it's a blur. years of desire, yearning, and longing for him pours out of you like a dam, it seeps into the title you've subconsciously given him ever since you were a kid.
"dad." you whisper again, and he groans, pressing his forehead against yours. the way he's crumbling before you makes you feel more confident, and soon enough, the words blabber out of your mouth almost boldly. "dad— dad, dad, dad, papa, appa —"
the rushed string of words has him chuckling softly— his eyes crinkling with mirth. endeared, he's leaning down and immediately kissing you again. you moan unabashedly into his mouth, and his hands reach down to your dress and slide the fabric up, up, up. his hands splay across the soft skin of your thighs and he relishes in the way you fall apart under his touch. he breaks the kisses momentarily only to mumble sweet little words against your skin.
"my sweetheart—" he whispers, his hands cupping your cheeks, and you slip further into your little headspace. he presses a kiss to your forehead, and you choke on a sob.
"my little baby." he presses another kiss to your cheek. you're further gone. you can't see anything but him anymore. his words drop you further into the safer side of your mind, where there's no one but him— him holding you, loving you. keeping you safe and sheltered. "my angel."
"dada—" you whimper, unable to hold back the desperation in your voice. you sound timid, soft. everything hurts— you love him, you love this man so unbelievably much that it's starting to make your heart ache. he grabs your legs, makes them wrap around his waist. settles his bulge upon your clothed crotch and gently grinds. it makes you moan. "o-oh my god—"
"my little girl," mr. inho coos, pressing soft kisses all over your face. you release a shaky breath, your hips recklessly chasing his own. the action makes him falter, his voice growing shaky. "i got you, i got you, my baby."
"appa," you sniffle, tears running down your face. this one visibly makes him nauseous in the best way possible— it scratches the itch in his brain. you can tell by the shift in his jaw, the slight gasp that leaves his lips. he didn't react this way to other other ones— he likes being called that the most, and it works as fuel for your desires. he licks your tears away, and you hiccup, unable to hold back the violent rush of emotions you feel. "i love you— i love you, why couldn't you have been my dad instead!?"
the last line comes out of you like a wail, and unbeknownst to you, it breaks his heart. he presses his forehead against yours, holding onto your face with utmost tenderness as you exchange breaths. his hips glide against yours tantalizingly slow, and you've never been this horny in your entire life.
"i wish it was you instead," you blabber on, voice cracking. "i wish it was just you, not him! i wish it was just you! i hate him, i need him gone! i love you! i wish it was just you—"
"shh—" he coos, silencing you with another kiss. his hips gain momentum, and he grunts shamelessly as he grinds against you. your eyes flutter as you look at him dazedly— face flushed, lips swollen. your eyes are bloodshot. he gives you a comforting smile.
"i got you," he whispers, pressing another peck upon your nose. you whimper, leaning into his touch. his voice is just as full of desperation. "appa's got you. you're my little girl. my daughter. not his. only mine. got that?"
that does it for you— it's like you just got the only validation you ever needed in life.
"yes- yes, yes, yes, yes, please, i need you—" you hiccup, and he pulls back, his thumb rubbing your clit through your panties. you grind up into his hand, your arms reaching up to pull him closer, "appa—"
"shh, be my good little girl and come like this," he whispers, pressing a hand down on your stomach. you squirm violently under him, the added pressure and his words making the band in your stomach want to snap in the most delicious way possible.
"oh my god—" you whine, throwing your head back, "please, appa, i need your cock—"
"no," he laughs, and his hand comes up and cups your face, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip lewdly. "not now."
"appa, please!" you sob, your hips writhing. he slips his hand into your panties and furiously rubs your clit. as a way to silence you, he slips his thumb into your mouth and your lips wrap eagerly around it. you start sucking it in earnest and he falls forward onto you.
"fuck," he groans, pressing his forehead against yours again. his thumb presses down on your tongue, gently pushing in and out. his other hand teases your entrance, harshly slips one finger inside and it makes you jump. he tsks. "uh uh- stay still— that's it bubba, suck my thumb... juuust like that, fuck, that's my good fuckin' girl—"
the praise makes you heady in the best way possible, and the moment his thumb circles your clit again, you're coming almost violently. you almost bite down on his thumb and he grins— pulling his hand out and kissing you again as he thrusts his finger in and out of your cunt, overstimulating you.
"t-too much—" you whimper into his mouth, and he chuckles breathlessly, pecking your lips over and over again till they hurt.
"yeah?" he coos teasingly, though he slows down his movements, allowing you to come down from your high. "thought you could take it? little baby's not so tough anymore, huh?"
you whine again, face flushed. a dazed smile appears on your face as your chest heaves. your panties are a mess, and he brings his hand out, licks his fingers clean. you watch him with hooded eyes, blinking slowly. he smiles, spits on his fingers before bringing them to your face. eagerly, you grab his palm and slip them into your mouth, sucking obediently.
"you're so messy," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. his fingers gently thrust in and out of your mouth and you roll your tongue around the digits, tasting the slight remnants of your slick on his salty skin. you've never felt more fulfilled in your life.
"appa," you mumble again, voice muffled through his fingers. he smiles fondly and pulls them out, making you whine. he shushes you and as your hand reaches his pants, he grabs it.
"that's enough for now," he whispers. "rest. i'll be fine. today's just about you."
you protest. "but—"
"won't you listen to your appa?" he adds playfully, and you blush— looking away. if you could function properly, you'd tell him to shut up.
you can barely think; you still feel like you're floating, and he can tell by the slight dreamy look in your eyes.
"let me bring you some water." he whispers, pulling away. you immediately grab his hand, looking up at him with pleading eyes— begging him not to leave you. he chuckles, gently pries your hand away and presses a kiss to your knuckles. it makes you blush. he leans down, hands you your bunny plushie and you hold it to your chest.
"i'll be back in a minute, i promise."
reluctantly, you pull away, swaying a little as you watch him leave. as promised, he walks back in after a minute with a glass of water and his phone. he holds the glass to your lips and helps you drink, and it makes your cheeks heat up. you like him taking care of you. you like how happy he looks while doing it too. he urges you to finish the whole glass and settles it on the bedside table. you tug at his shirt and he snorts before redirecting his attention to you.
he lays down on the bed properly and pulls you towards him, cradling your head against his chest. you throw your leg around his hip and he holds you close, your plushie sandwiched between your bodies. it feels nice.
"you okay?" he whispers, and you nod, burying your head in his chest. you want to say a lot of things— you want to tell him how much you love him, how much you appreciate him. how he has quite literally changed your life. you want to tell him he is the best thing to ever happen to you, and that you might die if he ever leaves you. you want to tell him that he's a great kisser, that you want him to teach you everything. that he smells amazing and that you've never felt as safe as you do with his strong arms wrapped around you.
"thank you," you whisper, voice small. you feel shy again, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. you're exhausted, that much is obvious. this experience has clearly overwhelmed you, and he watches you for a bit, his thumb gently caressing your damp cheek, wiping the now drying tear tracks on your skin.
"thank you, what?" he asks, a knowing smirk on his face. he's cruel. you blush, hide your face with a groan before answering him shyly.
"thank you, appa."
"that's my girl." he adds proudly and you beam, butterflies erupting in your stomach.
"i love you too," he whispers finally, and your eyes snap open. you tilt your head up to look at him, your heartbeat rising. he smiles softly— an unreadable look in his eyes. you resist the urge to cry again.
"i love you," you tell him again, your emotions so evident on your face. you're an open book to him. he leans down, presses kisses against your neck, making you giggle. you've never been this happy in your life.
you bury your face in his chest again and hold onto him tightly. he rests his chin on your head, and you whisper a confession against him. now that mr. inho is yours, now that you feel reassured that he might not actually leave you, you can finally admit it out loud.
"i hope he doesn't come back."
he tenses slightly, before relaxing. you don't care about his opinion on your admission— you're just glad to let it out. his hand pats your back gently, urging you to sleep. eventually, you do.
you snore in your sleep. it makes inho smile. you're still the same as you were when you were a kid. when he's sure you're fully out, he checks his phone. he opens his encrypted mail, watches with amusement the attachment from this morning— a low quality video of your father being slapped as he loses in ddakji. the second attachment is of your father's details and his player number. he holds back a smirk.
your father is predictable. he knew the son of a bitch would take the opportunity to make money as soon as he's presented with it. he's not surprised. from what he knows of him in the past decade— he knows he wouldn't make it past the first game. if he does, he knows enough to design something that will make sure he doesn't make it past another.
after losing his wife and child, inho lost a part of himself. but he feels a little complete now. in a way, he has found both in you— and he does love you, adore you with everything he has. he doesn't intend to let anything happen to you ever again. now that you've subconsciously given him the permission, he can do whatever the hell he wants to the piece of trash that is your father. accidents and missing persons cases are easy to bury, and he doubts you'd be sad if you think your father went missing while 'working on a case.' it's nothing out of the ordinary. you have him now, afterall. what else do you need? he'll be your father and your lover. it's not that hard a task. anything you want.
he gently runs a hand through your hair, examines the fading bruise on your face. it makes his jaw clench.
you're the light of his life and he can't wait to spend the rest of it with you. he'll give you the life you deserve, fulfill the childhood that was stolen from you.
as you shift in his arms and mumble something incoherently; inho smiles. he puts the phone down and turns it off. with a newfound motivation, he presses another kiss to your forehead and pulls you closer.

tags: @gojoswaterbottle @melusinetears @mizzysx @starry-eyedxlove @ferrarifinnick @dilfismz @skibidirizzzlerrrr @cowuies @frontwomann @caramelcandescence @gemini-serpentis @showmeyourkickflip @lizaliza @namelesslosers @nightcovrd @snapeslittlewhore @thedreamingreaper @fariesrreal @sky-forts-and-burning-citadels @solsticeex
#hwang inho x you#hwang inho x reader#frontman x reader#lee byung hun#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game fanfic#salesman x reader#player 001 x reader
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the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) [2]
A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist
Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut , fluff, slight angst Word count: current 21.9k (total w.c. 34.4k) rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now. tags: MDNI, Childhood rivals to Best friends to Ex-best Friends to Strangers to Fake Dating to Lovers (try to keep up),childhood trauma, mentions of neglectful parents, mentions of injury and sabotage, random idol features, reader and seungcheol in their 30s, grump x sunshine, fake dating au, office au, taekwondo buddies, virgin!seungcheol, experienced!reader, food & alcohol scenes, yearning, reader wears a dress, drinking, tipsy intimacy, heavy eye contact, grinding, dry humping, exhibitionism, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, hair pulling (m. rec.), pet names (good boy)
[Part 1 in case you missed it]
“Hi! Sorry for intruding, but I bought coffee for everyone in the office!”
Surprise visits at work was a thing that couples did on occasion, so you thought it couldn’t hurt to try it. And as long as you gave a peace offering, nothing should go wrong. To your expectations, your surprise visit came with a whole welcome wagon. Passing through the hall, everyone in his department approached you with confused glances before swarming with warming greetings back as they accepted your bribes. It got loud enough to demand the attention of the office manager, hearing the muffled voices that bled through the thin cracks of his office walls. “What is the cause of all this—what are you doing here?”
Your eyes lit up at his appearance, immediately dropping the carrier of coffees in the next available person’s hand before rushing over to join his side. “I came to see you!”
“What about the cafe?”
“I brought a different lunch, just to change it up. We can enjoy it in your office.”
Before you could enter the door behind you, he took hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “It’s a mess in there,” he said through his teeth, code word for ‘off limits’ but if you’ve learned anything from the time you spent with this loon, there was no such thing as limits.
“Aw, baby! You know, I don’t care about any of that! Come on, let’s go!”
His resistance was no match against your sheer will as you pulled him away with a rough tug, subjecting him to a public, involuntary kidnapping in front of all his coworkers while they waved you off, happily enjoying their refreshments.
As the door shut, you dropped the take out on a table by a couch in a corner, letting out a low whistle. In good mafia boss manner, you jutted your lips out with your hands in your pockets and nodded as you scanned the room, thinking to yourself, ‘if only you accepted that job back in the day,’ but if you did, it would be under a corporation, and the thought tasted bitter in your mouth.
“Wow, this is nice,” you commented haughtily, scanning the perimeter of the room.
He licked his teeth, looking as if he’s about to snap. “You’re pushing it. We didn’t discuss this.”
“Relax, will you? I needed to do something other than go to the cafe because they’ll think that’s all we do.”
“Not my problem. It was the perfect balance between life and work. What if they hear more than they should?”
“We keep our voices low, just like we did at the cafe.”
You trod over to the couch, breaking open the take out, starving after running around with a wagon stacked high with carriers of coffee. You were thinking, at this point, you were practically that cafe’s sponsor. “Look, if I visit here all the time, you’ll never even have to leave. Plus, you’ll optimize your work hours, get things done here while we carry on with our obligations. Besides, it’s so much more private here, you’d hardly even have to do any pretending.”
He crossed his arms walking over to you, eyes fixed sternly.“…Why are you being so useful for once?” he asked suspiciously.
You smiled, extending your hand with takeout in your grip. “Chicken or beef?”
Your visits to the VENTE Co. office became an every other day occurrence, replacing the lunch dates that would take place in the cafe, now preoccupying the time slot of 11:55 to 12:50 and leaving on the dot. They were so often you were this close to earning a frequent visitor badge made of plastic and not of paper like you were first given, and admittedly that excited you and simultaneously worried Seungcheol that they’d offer you something so official.
“What’s the point of the bachelor party anyway?”
“A bachelor or a bachelorette party is where the person engaged celebrates the last night of ‘being single’ before marriage. Doing things like partying, having fun, but most of the time still clean and appropriate, although television may depict it otherwise.”
“Then isn’t a coed bachelor/bachelorette party contradicting?”
“It’s breaking tradition, and I’m for it! I think it’s sweet that they want to celebrate it together instead of making a big deal about celebrating it apart. Really shows how much they love and are willing to be with each other. It’s always been more for the wedding party anyway. The drinking, the games, clubbing.”
He stopped you from continuing. “How much drinking? What kind of games? And is the clubbing optional?”
You let out half a chuckle, knowing that these questions would eventually come forth. “The details are to be determined.”
“Great.”
“Sound more excited.”
“Great…”
“There was no difference in your tone.”
“I enunciated.”
You sighed, bowing your head. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
He escorted you out of his office, as he’s done every time you’ve come, to ensure that you don’t arouse suspicion from lack of appearances, while you clung to his side like a leech. You’ve begun seeing the difference it made, watching everyone that met your eyes and his with a bit more ease than the first encounter you had with any of them. It was starting to be amusing once they began conversations, asking if you both had anything special to eat, and Seungcheol would eventually give a curt answer when you gave him the nudge he needed. He was growing before your very eyes, improving endearingly everyday.
“Manager Choi!”
A man with salt and pepper hair approached before either of you got very far, his voice traveling from the end of that hall, reaching Seungcheol’s ears, to which he promptly greeted him back. “Hello Sir. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
He returned the respectful welcome with a fatherly grin, patting him on the back. “Well, I was in the neighborhood and decided to make a visit to the branches in the area, do a random check in. Outstanding work as always.”
Seungcheol nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. “Thank you, sir.”
“And who might this visionary be?” The man asked, gesturing over to you with an open hand. “Head of VENTE, Lee Sooneung.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lee!” You brightly greeted, shaking the hand as you introduced yourself as the girlfriend. “I’m just visiting him at lunch.”
“Well, aren’t you both just darling? Where have you kept her all this time, Choi?”
Mr. Lee was a bit of a talker, and when he got started, he was the only one that was able to stop it, but there was you. Seungcheol came to realize that you were effortless in pivoting conversations, always knowing how to move them along so they wouldn’t drag out. And to Mr. Lee’s knowledge, he didn't notice, or if he did, he didn’t seem to care. You made good company, and Seungcheol didn’t appreciate that enough when he knew he should.
“Choi, you must come to this charity event. My wife and I will host it three Sundays from now, and bring the ball of sunshine with you.”
Before Seungcheol could answer, you interjected cheerfully, “We’d be happy to attend.”
“Wonderful. Well, I’ll let you two be on your way. Don’t be too in love, not on the company’s dime.”
You both bidded him goodbye and walked towards the elevators, leading towards the exit.
“Why’d you say that?” he mumbled, under his breath.
“What?” You asked in a normal volume.
He stepped closer, repeating the words in hushed tones. “‘We’d be happy to attend?’ When did we ever discuss this? This wasn’t on our set agenda.”
“We can add it,” you argued, “You want people to like you, this charity event can be good for that. It’s charity for crying out loud.”
“That’s my boss, he doesn’t need to like me. He just needs to value me.”
“How is that any different?”
The elevator doors slid open and you both began heading towards the exits, already seeing the cab he called ahead for you. However, before you could take another step, he dropped his voice lower, pulling you closer and cupped his hand to your ear, making the gesture and words that came out of his mouth look more intimate than they should as a shiver ran down your spine.
“I didn’t get as far as I did by being a kiss-ass.”
You lightly shoved him off before you jumped in your cab. “Going to one event won’t make you a kiss-ass. Think of it as networking, building your rapport with other people in your industry. There’s no certainty that you’ll stay in this position forever, and I doubt that’s what you want either. Having a back up plan, or plans, isn’t a bad idea. I think they might exist at this event. and you could do yourself some good by going.”
“…Who the hell are you?”
Grinning from ear to ear, you closed the door, rolling down the back seat window to have the final word. “Someone who’s about to take a very, very long food induced coma.”
He leaned against the door. “Have you ever considered that you’re a terrifying person?”
“Have a good day at work!”
Just when Seungcheol thought things were getting just a little bit easier, you somehow managed to throw something else in his way. He should’ve expected it. He should’ve known better. This was you after all. Just like he should’ve seen what else was coming that following weekend.
It was early Saturday and somehow Seungcheol still managed to get a work out in. The bachelor/bachelorette party you mentioned was being held that day, and somehow, you managed to convince him that it was worth leaving the house to stay the night in a beach house miles and miles away with about ten other couples. Well, convince was a strong word, what word he really would’ve used was—
“–Trick.” He clicked the roof of his mouth while staring at the banner that clearly stated, ‘Welcome to Seokjin’s and Eunbi’s Bach Overnight Weekend.’ “You tricked me.”
“I did no such thing,” You told back, attempting an air of innocence.
He pointed an accusatory finger, his lips forming a line to present an unamused, but unsurprised, expression. “I should’ve known. No wonder you took extra long in my bathroom. You were sneaking clothes out of my closet for an overnight bag.”
“I could’ve sworn I told you,” you defended, throwing the said duffle over your shoulder.
“You most certainly did not.”
“...Okay, I didn’t.”
He tightly shut his eyes, squeezing them as if the situation brought him to physical pain. “I was led to believe it was one night, not a whole weekend.”
You groaned, “It was a last-minute decision. It’s only overnight because the place they chose is so damn far, and no one wanted to drive all the way back when there’s drinking involved. They wanted to be responsible.”
“You could’ve declined, or warned me so I could’ve declined.”
“Cheol,” you whined apologetically.
“Guys, you made it! Welcome to casa de Kim!”
“Jin!” You smiled, changing directions to greet an old friend.
Seokjin emerged from the house to welcome you and your unhappy guest with hugs. Seokjin and Eunbi had been your longest friends and recently decided to tie the knot, officially taking themselves off the market for good despite everyone knowing they were nuts for each other all their lives. It was just a matter of timing, and this was their time. “Where’s my girl?” You prodded, looking over his shoulder.
“Uh, you mean my future wife? She’s handling some last minute planning in the kitchen, but I’ll make sure to let her know you guys have arrived. Great to finally meet you, man! Welcome in!”
“Oh, thanks,” Seungcheol lamely greeted, accepting your friend's handshake.
Seokjin took a little time making small talk before going back to his hosting duties, making sure to drop off the party favors–what he also called care kits–before pushing you to your designated room for the night and letting you go on your merry way. “Late lunch in an hour! Don’t be late!”
“Okay, Jin. we’ll be there!”
“We will?” Seungcheol asked, resistance in his voice.
“Yes, now come on.”
There was the matter of the single bed of the room as you predicted—the cliche ever so popular—but that would be a problem for the evening. For now, they would just have to get through the rest of the day and get through Seokjin and Eunbi’s party games, which you didn’t doubt were eccentric as they were.
Your friends were excited to either see you and your fake boyfriend again or meet him for the first time if they hadn't been at the brunch. Seungcheol did the bare minimum, also as you expected, staying by your side and enjoying the food available to the fullest, and by the fullest, you meant loading up on protein and the occasional miniscule portion of white rice. Nonetheless, your friends made sure they were good company, trying to involve you both in conversations while keeping the attention on the guests of honors: the beautiful soon to be wed couple.
“Okay kids, gather around!”
“Kids?” Mark repeated, “We’re in our damn 30s.”
Jin scoffed, an offended hand to his chest. “Speak for yourself, I’m forever 21. Anyways, before I was rudely interrupted, I just wanted to thank everyone for coming. None of this would be possible without the beautiful woman beside me,” he glanced down at Eunbi, who amusingly chuckled back at her fiance, “and me—and I guess you guys too. So! Let’s have a great time this weekend, alright? To love!”
“To love!”
You all clinked your midday cocktails, and you watched to make sure Seungcheol joined in, and he did so from the comfort of his seat. With Just you. With a glass full of ice water. Drinking a measly single sip before setting it quietly down. This was going to be a long night.
“Right after we finish up, we’ll get started heading by down to the pool—the beach if ya’ feel frisky—and then the games will commence after a bit of play.”
“Frisky? 21, my ass.”
“Jeon Jungkook, something will go up your ass if you talk out of turn one more time on my day.”
Most of the guests decided to stay by the pool, while a few ventured by the beach, wanting to get a tan. Meanwhile, Seungcheol stayed inside with you in the lounging area as everyone else enjoyed themselves. He lifted his head up from his phone to see you, watching how your eyes followed the motion of their joy, seeing how everyone interacted with each other or with the water, either jumping in or on the verge to, while muffled laughter bled through the sliding doors.
“Not joining your friends?” He nudged.
“And leave you here alone?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “I’m good.”
“I’m not running away, no matter how tempting that is, I’m stuck here.”
You shook your head, putting your knees to your chest. “That’s not it.”
“Don’t tell me. You’ve come to enjoy my company.”
You crinkled your nose in response, “You know how to joke now? Since when did you get a software upgrade?”
“When they started to slow down yours to prioritize mine.”
You poked at his head in retaliation, but he successfully evaded it, tilting his head in a 45 degree angle, an angle that if anyone else saw would think he was trying to act funny or cute. Disappointingly, you fell into the second category.
“Will you not tell me why you’re deciding to stay inside and not be with your friends after bamboozling me out of a peaceful weekend?”
You sighed, turned back to your friends, and watched the transparent door screens like it was a television show that played in the background, not interactable. “They make it fun when I'm here.”
“How is that an issue? You enjoy their presence, they enjoy yours.”
“They make it fun. Like I’m being taken care of. While everyone is having a good time, being all coupled up lovey dovey, and happy, I’m chilling on the sidelines, or if I do join, I’m a third, fifth, seventeenth wheel. So, I’m used to sitting back. Letting the couples be couples. I just don’t want to get in their way and I don’t want them to have me join in just because I'm chronically alone.”
“I thought you would take your previous partners to these kinds of things.”
You shook your head, “Only smaller events with people that I know wouldn’t blink twice if saw me single the next day. I usually went to things like the brunches or parties with just my friends. No one else.”
“You brought a boyfriend to this event, you do realize that, right?”
You rolled your eyes. “You,” you kept your voice low, “are different. Obviously. It’s not like we can do all the couple things like everyone else.”
“...You said you might go to the beach later, right?”
“Yeah?”
“So, you brought and wore a swimsuit?”
“...yeah–Hey! Motherfucker, put me down!”
The moment arose once you were stolen from the couch, scooped up in Seungcheol’s arms as he carried you effortlessly as you flailed in his grasp, passing through the sliding doors and out to the pool side. Initially, you both hardly attracted any attention from the people already there, but your voice filled with anguish and unbridled rage was loud enough to reach even the neighbors in the other beach house a mile away.
“I’m going to kill you, Choi!”
“Oh hey, guys! You’re finally joining us,” Jin greeted, before he and everyone witnessed your fake boyfriend—or shall you put it, attempted murderer—drop you into the pool, submerging you into water.
For a whole moment, all you saw was blue and light as the pressure of the water pushed around your body and towards its depths, its cool temperature surrounding you as you inhaled it in your nose and through your lungs. You immediately closed your mouth, preventing yourself from digesting any more and pushed yourself up the moment your feet could touch the ground. Coughing and gasping for air, you scowled at the man responsible. “You—”
“You looked like the sun was getting to you, darling, so I thought some water would do you some good,” he stated, pulling a sinister grin, the dimple present like the mark of horns on the devil’s head.
“You could have killed me,” you hissed.
“Actually,” Wonwoo interjected from a few feet away, “He only threw you four feet deep. Five would’ve drowned you, three could lead to a concussion, but four is actually a good medium. Maybe a scrape of the knee, but you’d mostly be okay.”
You may have dramatized the experience a tad bit, but nonetheless, you were thrown in the fucking pool. You turned to your usually good friend, showing him the same scowl. “Now is not the time, nerd.”
“I like him. Keep him around.” Seungcheol commented, pointing to Wonwoo.
“Hey!” you shouted, still angry. “Are you insane?”
“Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you mad like this before,” Jihyo joined in, doubling over in laughter, “not even when we caught he who shall not be named fucking around summer of ‘18. And you were pissed, but not like this.”
You ran your hand over your wet hair that obscured your vision, “Yeah, well, apparently instead of a pig, I picked a fucking psycho.”
Seungcheol edged by the pool, squating in front of you with knees to his chest before he landed his final diss. “Sounds like your prospects were limited, anyways.”
The bach party gasped, hands covering more mouths than ladies laughing during high tea, and the quiet, subtle laughter dispersed amongst them. It buzzed around you like flies, mocking you, and although you weren’t all that mad–like them you could tell it was all in good fun–you were out for revenge. Blood.
“Cheol.”
“Hmm?”
“I think you were right about one thing. Water does do you some good.” In a split second, you had his arm, tugging him into the water with you, feeling a pair of hands clasp around your waist as your bodies submerged together. Using the surprise attack as an advantage, you purposefully pressed your weight into him with your hip to push him deeper–sacrificing yourself even if it meant taking you with him, ensuring he felt the full under the sea experience.
When you both finally pulled up to the surface, he’s coughing as much as you were the same scowl on his face as you had on yours, except now you’re the one pointing and laughing, leaning against the pool wall for support.
“You did that on purpose,” he mimicked.
“Aren't you the genius?”
He splashed water on you. “I could’ve died.”
“I’ve seen this movie before,” you ask sardonically before his splashes came in waves, rippling back at you until you were forced to act in defense.
When everyone else saw how the scene unfolded, more of your friends decided to join in on the fun, finding more amusement in the pool activities than before. The noise amplified throughout the perimeter, but not a care in the world was seen. It was as if they were all waiting for you to join, and once you did, there was no more holding back. Even Seungcheol, chronically stoic Seungcheol, bared a smile that didn’t want to come down.
Coming closer to the dinner time, guests were about ready to change out of their wet clothes and into something dry for the evening, keeping in mind the games they’d be playing later. Meanwhile, You and Seungcheol rushed up the stairs, shivering without a towel, and entered your shared room for refuge.
“Get out,” you said, your teeth chattering.
He gave you an offended glance. “I have to change, you get out.”
“And what do you think I’m doing? My taxes? I need to change too, asshole.”
“Fine, we’ll just change in the same room. Quickly.”
“Like I’d let that happen, perv.”
He rolled his eyes, “There’s not really much to see. If anything, I’m the one that should be worried.”
“Excus–you know what? Fuck it, whatever. We grab our clothes from the duffle and turn around and change at opposite sides of the room. Okay?”
“Best idea you’ve had all damn day.”
You stormed together towards the single large bag you brought, both your hands moving in flurries as you grab your things. In the midst of the chaos, Seungcheol’s gaze accidentally pivoted, taking in the way your tee-shirt clung to your chest, the outline of breasts in your bikini clear as day, while your nipples–erect and stiff from the cold—poked through the material, moving violently as your hands swished through the bag. It’s until you got up after retrieving your clothes that he fixed his gaze, returning to rummaging for clothes.
“Can’t find it? It should’ve been on top of the stack since I packed your clothes last.”
“I’m looking!” he answered a little too loudly, embarrassed by the reason for the delay.
Refusing to meet your eyes, he stood up finally when the clothes made themselves known, holding them triumphantly, “Found it.”
“Okay. You take one side, I take the other and none of the paths cross.”
“Yes, I’m aware of the plan we discussed a mere two minutes ago.”
“Asshole. Okay, go!”
You both head into the direction you were already facing, your backs parallel to one another and the immediate sounds of wet clothes squelching on the floor as they fell in loud thuds. The ruffling of dry clothes were next to follow, but the thought hadn’t occurred to either one of you until you stood in your birthday suits that you’d be stripping naked simultaneously until that very moment.
When the awareness finally did kick in, you were looking at a painting of fruit as Seungcheol stared into the balcony, luckily too far to showcase your awkward circumstance, but both had nothing on their mind but the thought of their fake significant other stark naked. Their actions began slowing down, moving at a snail’s pace as they started putting one arm and one leg through a hole through a single article of clothing at a time, as if savoring the rush they’ve discovered the rustling of fabrics as they slid against skin.
You lightly coughed, first to penetrate through the silence. “I know what you tried to do.”
The sound of fabric flapping resonated from the direction of the balcony. “I’m trying to change.”
“Not right now, dimwit,” you insulted.
“The insults are juvenile, and frankly uncalled for.”
“I’m talking about the pool.”
“What about it?”
“You listened to my trauma dumping, and you didn’t have to.”
“...I asked.”
You pulled up your shorts, letting them settle over your hips, unsure if you liked how they squeezed, but let it go. “And…you fucking dropped me in the pool like a hot turd—fuck you for that by the way.”
He chuckled, and you didn’t see it, but you could imagine the smile on his face.
“But I know you did it because of what I said, that I wanna do couple shit…like playing in the pool with my boyfriend.”
“Was that playing? You looked fairly mad. Aggressive perhaps.”
“Yeah, well, you fucking almost killed me,” you said, tugging the final shirt over your head.
“Like I almost didn’t die either?” He retorted. “I saw a bright light in that pool when you took me.”
“That was the sun!”
“It looked nothing like the sun.”
“Well, whatever the fuck–oh, my god. You made me lose my train of thought!”
A hand fell on your shoulder, turning you away from the painted apples and melons to stand face to face with the person you were just imagining yourself screaming at now fully clothed, but as you looked into his eyes, the rage began to dissipate. Instead, you’re overcome with silence and a sense of gratitude, seeing warmth in his eyes you weren’t used to. You could always tell a difference somehow, and moments like this were when you wished you didn’t. Not when they confused you.
“Well?”
You’re jolted awake by the sarcastic tone of his voice, a stark contrast to his soft features, and the glint of something in his eyes you’re probably mistaken about. Or maybe he had just gotten a lot better at pretending. “Just, thank you. Thank you for trying.”
A corner of his lips slightly lifted before dropping, wrapping his hand around your wrist—making your eyes jump in size and only adding to your uncertainty—as he tugged you towards the door. “Alright, let’s get the rest of this over with.”
Jin and Eunbi came and delivered as expected. Their dinner spread was even better than lunch, making sure all their guests knew that they were in good hands. Seungcheol even found himself getting a heartier fill, tasting a bit of everything they had to offer. You enjoyed watching him pile his plate, delightfully surprised as he managed to get at least one of everything from the food pyramid. You made sure to tease him a little, to which he defended himself by saying he worked up an appetite with the swimming, and you didn’t prod him after that, just happy he’s enjoying himself. By the time dinner ended, all the guests’ stomachs were filled with bountiful amounts of food, leaving no one behind to starve. For Jin and Eunbi, the overly enthusiastic party hosts, that meant one thing: it was time for the games to commence.
Jin twinkled his fingers together menacingly, gathering everyone in a circle. “Truth, Dare, or Drink?”
“May I remind everyone we are in damn near our thirties,” Mark, tired and old, brought up again.
“Then sit out grandpa, damn!”
Seungcheol put his lips close to your ear, “What kind of game is this?”
“I’m not so sure. Hey Jin? Eunbi? What the hell is this? Truth or dare?”
Eunbi spoke up to answer, “Truth, dare, or Drink: Couples edition! A couple chooses between truth or dare, and if they can’t answer their truth or do the dare, they take a drink.”
“More drinking,” Seungcheol said, eyes squinting as if war flashbacks actively played throughout his head.
“We'll try the game. I’m sure it won’t be so bad.”
And it wasn’t so bad, for the other couples that is. For the most part it was a simple, truth or dare card game they found in an aisle of any Target or Walmart, but the contents included truths from “craziest place they had sex” to dares where they “switched underwear for the rest of the game.” Some couples passed on the card and took a couple shots, and then your time finally arrived, the new duo in the mix: the two everyone is expecting the most from.
“Truth. No. Dare. Fuck, wait, truth—“
“Damnit,” Seungcheol pulled a truth card out of the deck on the table and presented it in front of you both, letting you read it out loud. “What is your partner’s… ahem… sexiest… body part?”
Seungcheol had looked at the card for himself to see if you read that right, and everyone that circled around you cheered you on, wolf-whistling or howling as they all encouraged the both of you to answer.
“You’re starting off strong, huh?” Mingyu teased.
Chaeyoung was grinning, thinking this kind of game right up her alley, “So, what is it? Who wants to go first?”
“Guys—“ before you could even finish your thought, Seungcheol was already pouring shots, throwing one back like nothing and ‘boo’s took up the space.
“Lame…”
“Can’t even announce to the world what you find sexy about your girlfriend, new guy? Are you really dating then?”
As Seungcheol poured another shot facing it towards you, he looked at you with determination and empowerment. “I think of it as respect to my significant other, and it's best I don’t divulge in saying her most attractive trait if it makes her uncomfortable, so I’ll drink my shot,” he threw back the drink he held in front of you, “and hers.”
While others still found it a little cowardly, his gesture earned him a few pats on the back, thinking he made a safe choice. “Well, alright, good man.”
“You’re safe for now.”
You stared at him, knowing this lunatic did not just do that. After the shit he pulled at the company party, drinking should’ve been the last thing he thought to do. And he would attempt another try when they played another round, this time when a dare was picked.
“Give your partner a blindfolded lap dance.”
Seungcheol sighed, already pouring the shot. “As respect to my partner and her dignity, I—hey!”
The shot disappeared as soon as it was full, being tossed back in your throat as you stole his heroic speech as well, or the paraphrased version of it. “His dignity, respect and honor, yada, yada, yada. His shot too.” The second shot burned slightly more bitter as it went down, and you just hoped the rest of the cards weren’t as intense as the two you’ve received so far.
“Why the hell—“
“You guys are really private, huh,” Jin grinned, “Aw, that’s cute. I’ll let it go, cuties. Let’s keep going!”
That went on for several more rounds, and of course, the cards didn’t get any easier. So to avoid truths or dares, you and Seungcheol drank a lot. Not only that, you had kept stealing the shots back and forth from one another, trying to prevent the other from getting too drunk, but to quote a smart man that was balls deep in several bottles of soju, that numbskull plan was ‘horrendously flawed.’
“Ugh, these fuckers just wanted to drink! Fuck, they’re drunk.”
“If they just wanted to drink, they could’ve done that.”
“Let’s put them on the couch.”
“Man, he’s huge, where did she find this guy?”
There wasn’t much movement that could be made by either you or the man you brought, so sleeping felt like a natural course of action. The colors and lights of the room faded in and out whilst the music muffled in your ears. In a way, it soothed you, like white noise, and the voices that seeped through would only sometimes jolt you awake, until finally, slumber hit you, and you couldn’t detect anything or anyone at all.
The second you were conscious again, you found yourself on the couch where you last remembered being before completely blacking out. There was a dulling ache you noticed in your head as you got up to scan the room, seeing that you were completely alone with no sign or your fake boyfriend anywhere in sight.
“Cheol?”
You picked yourself up, holding on to the foundation on the couch and still feeling the lingering effects of the alcohol before going off to find the missing office manager. “Seungcheol!”
You face planted against the transparent glass window, seeing various familiar faces, but none of them being your plus one. Taking your journey to the first floor rooms, you attempted to see if he stumbled upon any of the game rooms or lounging areas conveniently available. It was unsuccessful when you just saw more familiar faces—albeit, friendly ones that were glad to see you alive and well—but no Seungcheol.
In midst of the chaos, your shoulder grazed an oncoming body, having been caught before you took a hard tumble, “Shit, oh, Eunbi. Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“Hey, babes, you’re awake.”
You got on your feet, grasping the back of your head. “Yeah, I woke up a little while ago. Have you seen my boyfriend anywhere?”
She briefly spun to scan the room to check, “Um, not sure. Last I saw, he was on the couch next to you.”
You sighed, “Shit, okay. I gotta find him before he drowns or something.”
But before you left, you felt her hand on your shoulder to get your attention, “Hey, can we talk for a little bit, catch up?”
“Sure.”
Eunbi pulled you away to a tucked corner of the house with a convenient little window that popped open from the top. It was late, the moon high up in the sky, and you had no damn clue what time it was. You remembered that you left your phone in the room, knowing you’d lose it somewhere if you took it with you, and you were right, because instead, you lost a whole human tonight.
“Smoke?”
You snorted. “I still don’t do that shit, you know me.”
“Yeah, Jin doesn’t either,” Eunbi chuckled, lighting up her cigarette and blowing a puff out the window. “I’m really happy you came by the way. I was hoping you would—not that I don’t think you wouldn’t come to your own best friends’ Bach party but—“
You chuckled, “Where is this going, Eunbi?”
She was quietly, remorseful, leaning against the window and looking at you with a million words on her mind, but the only ones she could muster were, “I’m sorry for not being around.”
You lightly punched her shoulder, leaning on the window beside her. “Don’t be sorry you’re hanging around your fiancé and planning a whole wedding.”
“But I’m not making time to see you.”
“You’re being fucking happy. You’re getting married, shut up. If you were spending time with me, I would be legitimately concerned.”
A small smile formed on her face, taking another puff, before managing to say anything more. “But…I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend. Had to find out from someone who went to the brunch I couldn’t make because I had to deal with catering. I feel like a shitty friend.”
“You’re not, okay? You’ve just been so happy, and you deserve all the fucking happiness in the world. I didn’t want to distract you by making a special period in your life about me, or by taking all your time away from you.”
She flung the cigarette out the window to grab hold of your shoulder, shaking some sense into you. “You wouldn’t be. I will be married to that loser for probably ever but you’re my best friend, I want to make time for you too while I can before this guy steals all your time away from me.”
You shook your head reassuringly, putting your hand over hers. “He won’t. I promise.”
Your fingers interlocked, resting your heads on each other's shoulders as you looked back up at the sky. “You really like him, huh?”
“He’s all right,” you shrugged, a hint of a smile on your face.
“So he checks all the boxes?”
“I’m looking into it.”
You saw her grin from your peripheral, “And that last box?”
“Nosy!” you exclaimed, bumping her hip.
“Come on! Like I don’t know your sex history like the back of my hand!”
You fell silent, suddenly reserved at the topic of sex—specifically at the lack of—and for some reason you can’t find the heart in you to lie about that tidbit. “We’re not…”
Her head pivoted to you dubiously, narrowing her eyes, “Wait. No way…”
“It just needs to be the right moment.”
“Girl, the moment has passed. Look at him and tell me you don’t wanna climb him like a tree.”
Smiling, you exaggeratedly groaned, “Shut up, you're so annoying.”
“He is hot in like this super ripped accountant sort of way and honestly funny as fuck, your type to a tee. What do you mean you’re not in his pants right now?”
“Stop!” You shoved, laughing together like you used to when there was all the time in the world, “When we’re good and ready, we will.”
“Alright. You must really like the guy.”
“Yeah, well,” you began pulling away, being reminded he’s out there somewhere waiting to be found. “I won’t be sure until I find him dead or alive.”
She grinned, waving you off. “Good luck!”
Your search continued through the rest of the house, coming up short on the rest of the first floor after double checking the pool side before heading up stairs. Hushed voices and restless movements could be heard from nearby and behind doors, giving you a clear idea of the kind of things happening on this floor, and you pray to all the gods that you don’t come across something you’ll regret seeing.
“No naked bodies, no naked bodies, no naked bodies.”
You ran that mantra over and over, warding off the potential of seeing someone’s parts you haven’t seen before or already seen too many times, neither option being a desirable one.
And just as you were about to make it to the end of the hall, just where your room was and the likeliest place he’d be, your wrist was snatched from behind, spinning you around, and your person of interest stood before you with a goofy grin on his face.
“There you were,” you said, sighing a breath of relief.
“Here I am,” he announced, giggles seeping out of him.
“Where did you go? I was looking all over for you.”
He tilted his head to the side, and instead of answering, he just interlocked your fingers and tugged you in his direction, where you aimlessly followed. You were taken outside, somewhere you haven't thoroughly explored yet—but already lightly scoured by a handful a people already there, and now, you and Seungcheol as he claimed an outdoor nook in the very corner draped by vines and branches, as pillows and blankets were threw on to be cushions or stowed away in the corner for extra comfort. The coziest place you’ve ever seen.
“What the fuck? This is gorgeous.”
“Great nap spot. Come.” He tugged you with him, occupying a space that would normally fit two average adults or one Seungcheol, but he was determined to include you, somehow resulting in you mounting yourself on his lap in the open public for anyone around to see. Your eyes flew open, slapping him against his chest as he pulled you near, your knee jerking as you jolted in fear of others noticing. “Are you crazy?”
“They’re watching…” he sang, eyes glazing over off in the distance.
You slightly turned your head to watch his view, seeing a few of your friends off in the distance, coming from the beach or slightly in view from the poolside, that could easily catch you in whatever act you and Seungcheol looked like you were up to. However, at this point, everyone seemed to be in their own world, talking, laughing, minding their own businesses. You weren’t sure if it mattered.
You snickered, resting your hands on his shoulders and readjusting your knees as they dug into the seat cushions. “You’re gonna go this far?”
“Yep. I have to look like a good boyfriend.”
You squinted at him suspiciously. “You had a lot to drink, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know?” he mumbled dumbly, his dimple indented extra deep.
You shook your head in disbelief, dipping your head forward and momentarily colliding with his in a headbutt. You reacted as expected, rubbing your forehead at the slight ache you caused, but from the lack of tact of the receiver, your assumptions were true. “You're so drunk right now.”
His hand rose to your hair, patting it down before finding your ear. As he thumbed over the curve of the helix, he could feel the heat bloom between his fingers. “You look so pretty right now.”
“Cheol,” you tried getting up, but he sat you back down, gripping you by your hips until they met his.
“Stay,” he quietly pleaded, his eyes glistening under the moonlight staring back at you with utter need that you have no choice but just melt right back in his touch.
You couldn’t believe the situation happening right now, and neither could your heart in your chest as it started beating at twice its usual rate. All you could focus on was his hands as they traveled up your body, skimming through the thin fabric of your shirt, following up your spine as he let out soft, ragged breaths.
You pressed the pads of your fingers a little deeper into the meat of his shoulders, “S-Seungcheol–”
“Do you know what will really convince them?” His voice was unrecognizable, deep and indulgent.
You made the ghost of a whimper as a finger travelled back down your body as you responded earnestly. “I don’t think we have to do much more convincing. I think they believe us when we say we’re a couple.”
“But you know what will really convince them, though?”
You were scared to even ask, thinking a single word would burst this bubble you have no idea how you got caught in. “What?” you asked softly.
Your breath caught in your throat as you didn’t even dare blink, following his eyes as his hands made waves up your body. He pushed you against him, reclaiming your hips before puppeting them to roll against the definition of his thigh. Your stomach seized and your shoulders tensed, the sensation bringing you to shock as you beckoned forward at his will, his face being brought closer to yours in the process.
“W-what are you…mmh…” Your thoughts to fend him off ran hollow pulling your gaze up to sink into the titillation, mewls buzzing on your tongue.
The chills that once ran up your body evolved into fire, its heat steadily burning a path from your chest to far below your torso, and your hips developed a rhythm to match his. Not one word was exchanged, unlike the usual berating and bickering that was constant whenever you were within touching distance of each other, the only language that was spoken here were bodies in that tiny space. And that night, Seungcheol looked determined to become fluent in yours.
Seungcheol’s lips parted slightly as he peered at you through his long lashes, his grip growing possessive as his fingers spread, pressing the fullness of his palms into your back. Growing under you was his size, stretching the groin of his linen pants and making it harder to avoid clashing the closer and fiercer you rolled your hips against him.
“Am I doing too much?” he softly murmured, breathing the words into your clavicle.
“N-no,” you answered, finding his eyes and not minding getting lost in them. “Not at all.”
“Then,” Holding your gaze, his hands moved lower and crept under shirt, itching to feel even the hairs that stood on your back, “Can I?”
You nodded frantically, choking back a garbled, “Yes,” before both palms welcomed themselves underneath, clutching you against him to the point his length was wedged between your torsos.
You heard him bite back a moan from the depth of his throat before his hands trailed up your body, pricking the skin where he ran, his thumbs hooked underneath your bra. He smoothed the pads of his digits from underneath the band, memorizing it from its lace to the silicone that kept it in place, and stopping at your side where the cups of the underwear began.
He finally blinked, the entirety of the act not once having broken eye contact as he touched you, ensuring that every second he was looking at you and you looked at him, as if looking away for even a second meant that all of it would disappear. You showed no signs of protest, and he teased you with his thumb, sliding underneath and over the curve of your breast, watching the quiver of your lips as he inched closer to your stiff peak.
You sucked in a sharp breath, a soft twitch to your leg broke out when his thumb grazed and then circled the nipple, the tension in your stomach tightening more. “S-Seungcheol,” you called out in a weak breath before you rolled your hips again, seeing that he felt every bit of your heat through your ruined shorts.
Pressing his plush bottom lip between his teeth, he shoved his hand underneath the cups, the warmth of his hands fumbling their shape and weight before he gave them both the same fate he let you sample before. He thumbed your nipples with a heady need, leading up to the speed you found yourself grinding on him.
If someone had told you twenty years ago–fuck, a few days ago, that you’d willing sit on Choi Seungcheol lap—let alone dry hump—in the open public, you would’ve told them ‘quite literally to choke on rocks’ for putting that idea into the universe. Yet, at that very moment, you were seeing–experiencing every single second of it, and drowning in the rhapsody that he was leaving you in.
Besides that, you got to feel it as much as you saw it through Seungcheol, who looked more expressive than he’s ever been. You saw it every furrow of his thick dark eyebrows; every sound that passed through full, cherry red lips; every gulp from his thick and biteable neck. Everything from start to finish was embedded in every wrinkle in your brain, and by the look of the flushed and dazed expression of your conspirer, he wouldn’t either.
“I’m close…” you rasped, your hands crawling up in his hair and threading through his locks.
He panted against you, nodded, his fingers wrapping against your sides as his thumbs pushed against your now sensitive buds, scooting you both deeper inside the nook. “Whatever you want…fast, slow…I’ll try to help.”
You softly pouted, the urge to kiss the man you’ve spent months with relearning about, falling and lusting for, burning a hole in your chest. Still, you persisted, desperate to see that gorgeous face and every wrinkle crease the second he’s overcome with his own climax.
“Fuck,” you whimpered before maneuvering your position so he’d lean against the pillows behind him. Restarting your pace–your close race to bliss just out of reach–you pushed your weight deeper, undulating with every grind as the shape of his cock, sat between your bottoms swallowed up by your folds. “Just sit tight.”
He visibly gulped, staring at your clothed pussy within reach before looking back at you. “You just said you were close.”
You leaned in, faces just inches away from each other, chests heaving against one another. “And I can get there again. Just keep your eyes on me, and don’t stop touching me either.”
His eyes briefly drifted, settling on the lower half over your face before coming right back up, leaving you with an, “Okay,” before moving his hands up your shirt again.
It didn't take long for you to regain your momentum, Seungcheol being a helping hand as he teased your nipples raw and made your breasts feel tender to the touch. Your core clenched around the familiar exultation you were seconds from encountering before. “I’m close, I’m close, I’m so fucking close–fuck, fuck!”
“You’re doing well. Don’t stop now, you—ah…” Seungcheol swallowed his thought, clasping his hands around you, thumbs pushing your nipples inversely as something possessed you both, leaving just raw primal movement in its wake.
Drool pooled in your mouth, before dripping down your chin and the cotton of his shirt. The reckless, final moments of your extemporaneous, lewd events near its end as the sounds of your voices fused in a single unit. The only things left to do was clutch on together, riding the last wave, savoring every second of the high.
Sweat was clamming your thighs as you stared at one another, listening to nothing but the sound of each other's pants. A smile broke out on your face as you finally shielded your eyes, covering your timid expression under a confident grin. You lightly scanned the area behind you, seeing it sparse of people with exception of a few still by the pool, trying to distract from the reservation you felt being intimate, and the swirling hectic thoughts they were leaving you in after. “God, I wonder if anyone saw that. I don’t see anyone around.”
“I just ruined a perfectly good pair of pants.”
You snickered, turning to see the stoicism back on Seungcheol’s face as usual. “Look who’s all sober.”
He slightly turned his head, cheeks painted a subtle pink.
“Good job, Virgin,” you backhandedly compliment with a kiss on the cheek.
Seungcheol had a lot on his mind, especially a lot he wanted to say to you and how fucking amazing every inch of you was against him, but nothing could come out, even when you were just positively radiant above him like you were right now, right after the moment you shared. If alcohol did anything useful, it made things easy to spill from his lips, but the words currently on the tip of his tongue were being swallowed by his sobriety, his logic and reasoning that held him back. He knew couldn't deal with these kinds of emotions right now. Not at the moment.
So instead, he decided to carry you, and you emitted a yelp at the volume of a chihuahua in response. You threw your arms over his shoulders on instinct, pressing firmly to the toned build of his body, as he wrapped your legs around his torso, bouncing you to readjust you in his grip and securing you before setting off wherever without a word. You gazed back at him, feeling warm and protected in his arms; it was something you could get used to.
You made yourself comfortable, looping your arms tighter around his neck, “Where are we going? And why are you carrying me?”
“The room. You are my Trojan horse after the shit you pulled out there.”
“That you started, excuse you. And Trojan, hmm? You definitely referenced that on purpose.”
He trotted off a smirk before walking back in the house, ignoring everyone else that hooted and hollered at you both in the compromising position as he carried you off the stairs.
“Shower, please,” he pleaded, dropping you the second you entered the room as he split off to the other side.
“Tch, you’re the one who ruined your pants.”
“I can smell you from over here.”
You held your hands over your body in shame. “Why the hell would you say that to me?!”
He gazed over at you apologetically, “I didn’t say it was a bad smell, just please get decent. You have a lot more self control than I do right now.”
“I do?”
Suddenly, he moved in long strides, reaching you until your faces were inches apart, his heat radiating off him like a furnace. His lips parted temptingly as his gaze migrated over your being as though he devoured you where you stood and did not care who’d watched. “Yes. A fuck ton more.”
You backed away, slowly on the verge of jumping him yourself, while your heart was on the verge of exploding out of your chest. “F-fine, I’ll go shower.”
“Thank you.”
Gathering your things, you thought to check the time on your phone. “Wow, it’s only 1AM.”
“1AM?! No, no, I need to sleep soon,” he ushered you out, “go, go, be quick.”
“Alright, geez.”
You had only hoped the only witnesses to your little exhibitionist act were you two and the shower head that was washing the evidence away. Maybe it was weird, but you didn’t expect to mourn it. You’ve lost the only physical proof of what transpired tonight, but then smiled to yourself knowing that it happened at all. Something about it brought you bliss, knowing he’s there in the other room, waiting for his shower, and then waiting to jump into bed with you.
By the time you got in bed, all you could think about was him coming back, patiently waiting for his arrival as you laid peacefully in bed. It had been a while since you cuddled up with someone, and that someone being Seungcheol made you curious about the type of person he’d be in bed. Did he snore, take up the sheets, have night terrors? Before expanding on more ideas, you heard the faint turn of the door knob, and you quickly closed your eyes. The soft rustle clothes followed while the flat foot steps trotted closer to bed. Finally, you felt a weight dip into the mattress, and you pressed a hand to your heart, feeling how fast it started to race, anticipation trickling inside you and setting until…nothing.
One minute passed, and then two, confusion setting in. You fully swivel your head to see his side of the bed to see him with his eyes closed, fast asleep, soft snores as his chest rose and fell.
“He actually fell asleep,” you whispered to yourself, waving a hand over his face for good measure. “Dammit.”
You slumped flat on the bed, letting out a deep exhale, before looking back at him again, subconsciously tracing over his features that were pretty even while asleep in the darkest of nights. “I’ll be mad at him in the morning.”
When morning arrived, everyone was just about ready to leave, but not after Jin insisted on each and every guest grab some fresh breakfast before hitting the road, ending the trip the bittersweetest of goodbyes. You glanced through your peripheral vision at Seungcheol as you forked at your waffles topped with syrup and freshly picked strawberries, seeing him enjoy his expected lean and clean breakfast without a care in the world.
“Everyone had a good night,” Jin inquired, nudging the people around him, unfortunately that being Mingyu and Wonwoo.
“Someone had a lot of fun. Too much maybe,” Nayeon emphasized with a grin, not looking up, and everyone decided to randomly pick a victim, ultimately landing on poor Jungkook, the man with his mouth full.
“Wha’ I do?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not him.” Her gaze flickered in front of her, meeting your eyes, busting out a wide grin when your eyes launched at her.
“Me?!”
“Oh yeah,” Baekho agreed with his girlfriend, “her and boyfie were both drinking a lot that night, fucking blacked out before it was even 10pm. You guys could’ve just drank if you wanted to, you didn’t have to play.”
Nayeon rolled her eyes again, nudging her boyfriend, who pouted back at her confused. “Not what I’m talking about, dummy.”
“Okay,” you interjected, “I think we all had a little fun, mmkay? Let’s leave it at that while our friendships are still intact.”
“Why, hon?” Eunbi was the one to join, catching Nayeon’s drift. “You got something to share with the class?”
“On your guys’ weekend! Pff! No!” You shook your head with a smile that pleaded ‘please end it all for my sake, so help me, God.’
“How thoughtful,” Eunbi chuckled before continuing her meal.
Seungcheol’s foot slid next to yours under the table, catching your attention. “How loud were we last night?” he whispered, keeping a straight face, but his eyes were riddled with fear.
You pressed your lips in a thin line, leaning up to answer. “You really wanted to convince them.”
And from that, his face could no longer be held together, the pink spreading over his cheeks just before he tightly shut his eyes, embracing the impact of reality as it shattered over him like a glass ceiling. He was an animal. He could not touch another alcoholic beverage again. Even isopropyl was too risky.
The girl in front of you witnessed the entire encounter, grinning a smile of pure joy before kicking your foot on the table to your attention. “Hey.”
“Yes, Nayeon,” you said, glazing over your friend’s intrusion.
“Congratulations. I think this is the best one.”
“Please don’t rank my boyfriends like show dogs.”
“But this one has a nice coat and makes you happy, like really happy.”
“Don’t make me climb over there.”
With the back and forth teasing and the final moments of byes and hugs, everyone was off and back on the road to drive at least another three hours back to the city. You slumped against the leather of the car seat, watching as he steered his wheel and safely guided you both back home. A smile stretched over your face just at the sight of him, until you remembered you were supposed to be mad at him. Then you turned away, forcing a frown as you looked at a window.
Yet, minutes would pass by, and not a word would be exchanged. Complete and utter silence. It drove you insane. Did he not notice you at all, or was he that focused on driving? Or was he being the lunatic he always is pretending not to notice?
For emphasis, you crossed your arms, making a show of internal frustration outwardly so he’d somehow get the hint, hoping he'd at least ask you if something was wrong. Still, the silence would stretch forever and that alone was pissing you off. As if you could feel your brain cells slowly die off in this agonizingly, quiet void.
Your eternal inferno is brought to an end when you're brought home, your home, the place you’re hardly at these days when you’re visiting and making time for Seungcheol to play pretend girlfriend except to sleep.
“We’re here. You can leave the clothes behind. I’ll have them washed by the time you come to my place next weekend for the event.”
“Next weekend? You don’t want to see me this week?”
He shook his head without a second to think, your worlds crashing all at once. “Not this week. Lunch also will be forgoed for the time being just until we have the situation at work under control.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s what?”
“You—this weekend—you know what? Okay. Good luck with work.” You unfastened your seat belt, and opened the door, seeing yourself out.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” was the last thing you heard before you slammed the door shut and the car drove off onto the street, leaving you behind in disbelief.
Your arms dropped limp against your sides, entering your apartment, a weight dropped on your chest, and you fell face first onto bed.
Saturday was like something that fell out of pages of a book, torn and pasted on the vision board of a lovesick young girl about the kind of nights they dream of having once they’re older. Something silly, something fun, spontaneous, reckless. Maybe something they’d regret one day but felt right at the moment. It looked colorful as much as it felt colorful. Just pure desire and lost inhibitions, as you connected those many people or that one person.
Sunday was shit. It wasn’t something you wanted to live through, because of free will, you chose not to, spending the rest of the hours of your afternoon and evening feeling bad about yourself thinking about Saturday. It was easy to sleep through, you didn’t need to do anything else.
Then it was Monday. And you had a reason to be mad again, even when your dream flashed back to that wonderful night in that private little nook. You were reminded that he told you to not come over for lunch, so you did the next best thing.
“Hello, everyone!”
“Oh, hi! We were told you wouldn’t come today?” Chan greeted.
“Well, nope, tah-dah! I’m here! So I’m just gonna make the quick lunch drop off, and I’ll be out of all your hair soon!”
“Okay, but, Mr. Choi is a bit on edge today. Just a fair warning.”
“I think I can handle my own boyfriend, buddy. Thank you.” You politely knocked on the door of the office, took a beat, and then entered, seeing that he didn’t even look up from his desk to see the intrusion.
“If it’s not the revisions I asked for, I don’t want it,” Seungcheol warned.
“No revisions, but I brought beef. Protein pack just the way you like it.”
He lifted his head, standing up and sighing. “I told you we couldn’t do lunch this week.”
“You did say that,” you began to retort, dropping the food at an end table, “but, I wanted to see you. After that weekend, we didn’t really get to talking, and I missed you.”
Taking a big risk, you began unzipping your jacket, slowly revealing what little you had underneath, parting to see the red lace that stood out against your skin. His face shot up, urging out of his chair and had him zipping up your jacket for you. “We are in the workplace. Not here,” he warned through gritted teeth.
“Then when, Cheol?” Your frustration bleeding through your voice. “You’re not giving me much to work with.”
He just needed to come right out and say it. There was nothing he could do except tell the truth. “Nothing can or will happen until the event happens next weekend.”
“You’re making me wait?”
“I need to focus,” he reiterated, “in addition to the lunches. I can’t have disruptions right now. I have no focus right now with you here.”
“Like I can? After all of that? I’m seeing that night in my dreams, Choi.”
He exhaled, seeing his words go through one ear and out the other for you. “There’s a really important project that came up, and we just need all hands and eyes on it right now.”
You whined. “But—“
“But nothing. End of discussion.” He left it at that and returned to his desk, hoping to get back to work.
“End of discussion?” you repeated.
“Yes.”
You stormed off to behind his desk, standing right at his shoulder, licking your molars and wondering where he got the nerve to say something like that to you of all people.
“You don’t get to silence me, I am not one of your subordinates, Choi Seungcheol. Whatever goes on around here is not my business, but what happened between us is entirely something else, starting with what happened that weekend.”
He got up from his chair a slam, causing you to jump, and the pen in his grip was crushed, denting the wood beneath his palm. He stared you down, his glare so venomous and cold you would have felt safer in the arctic wearing a bikini.
“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think about how you preoccupy my thoughts every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day?” He leaned forward, his arms fencing you at your side as his hand gripped the edge of the desk, fingernails clawing into the paint. “If I had my way, I’d fucking throw all this shit out the window and spread you on my desk before making every wish and command that comes out of your mouth a reality until you’re begging me to stop.”
Fortunately for him, you didn’t have a rebuttal, wondering now if silence was still an option.
“Now get out, unless you want me to lose it on a stack of an 80 year old lady’s insurance papers.”
He got back in his seat, not looking as you swiftly made your exit out the office, not turning back, concerning eyes that heard the louder parts of the altercation regretfully watch as you left. Once you made it out of the building, your feet speedwalked for the cafe that you were all too familiar with, the one you’ve become a regular at, the one that knew you by name at this point as much as they knew Seungcheol.
Getting to the front of the line, you grabbed a clean, empty cup from behind the counter, startling the cashier who was seconds away from serving you. Before a single word was uttered from their end, with your whole chest and soul you started screaming into the cup, “FUCK, HE’S SO HOT. I NEED TO FUCK HIM SO BAD.”
You expelled a deep breath, letting the sinful demons escape your body and mind, and then turned to the barista with the same cup, handing it to them saying with the straightest face you could muster asking, “I’ll have an iced americano, please.”
“Sure, I’ll get you a new cup. You can keep that one.”
The weekend couldn't come any sooner, and you were growing irritated with every second of waiting. You tried busying yourself with work, considering you had put it off for the recent events as of late, but even when you started finding the momentum and get your groove back, you’d randomly have his flushed face pop in your head. The sounds of his bliss that left his lips as his hands touched your body.
Fuck.
You hadn’t gone this long without seeing, talking, or even hearing from him. The messages about the forged dates now dried up. As if fake dating felt more fulfilling than the real thing, if you could even consider it that.
You banged your head against a pillow, begging for the week to come by a little faster. And as a sign of good faith, your personal phone went off for the first time in weeks. You picked up, checking your notifications before lighting up, seeing that he's the one to message you last.
The message swiped up immediately, and you clutched your phone to see what he had sent you.
Cheol:🫰
“That’s it?” You threw your phone against your bed, gnashing your teeth before you started pouting alone by yourself, throwing a pillow over your face as you squealed into it, conflicted feelings for comfort and frustration battling it out within you as you knew you deserved more than a mere emoji but were happy that he thought to send you anything at all.
It was then the phone went off again and you quickly picked it up, seeing he sent another message.
Cheol: That was an accident. Sorry.
And your world was destroyed all over again. You squinted at the message, eye twitching, hands shaking. As far as you knew, Seungcheol was dead to you.
Then another message popped up immediately.
Cheol: It’s only one more day. You can wait that long and I know you’re going to ask how I know. I get your read receipts. I’ll see you soon. Good Night.
You frowned, holding the phone to your chest and falling back into bed, reading his last message over and over until your eyes were too tired to keep up.
You hate him for it, but sure, you’ll wait one more day.
The day officially arrived, and you woke up before your alarm clock went off. You leaped off the bed and checked your phone for any new messages, huffing to your dismay, but nonetheless, went off to start your day.
You had gotten some of your things ready to change, grabbing the makeup products you’ve selected from having used the previous free time you had to yourself to perfect the makeup routine, and now all you needed was your date.
A knock on the door had you rise to your feet and place a hand around a bat you kept for emergencies, being a single person household you never could be too careful. You approached carefully, the other hand holding your phone with speed dial ready, you looked through the peephole, and immediately melted at what you saw on the other end.
The bat and phone fell to the ground while the door swung open, and you stared back at the face of Seungcheol with a bouquet of flowers held to his chest. “It was my department’s idea. They thought you were mad at me for yelling the last time you were around and scolded me to get you something…though I had already planned on that from the beginning—”
You tugged him forward in a hug, the flowers held up to the side in order not to be squished upon impact, but he reciprocated, stroking your back with his full palm as he smiled into your hair.
“Were you going to assault me with a bat?”
“Not important right now.”
The flowers were left in a vase filled with water before you took the stuff you needed and left with him to his place, spending the day together to do whatever you wanted before getting ready.
But apparently, whatever you wanted came with limits.
“Careful, now,” Seungcheol warned, your body in his hands as he rested his back against his couch.
You grinned, combing through his dark hair in his rare form of misshapen and soft without product, smelling of soap and spice. “What’s one little quickie?”
“You want me to lose my virginity to a quickie?”
You jutted your bottom lip in a fuller pout, slotting your hands through a little rougher, “I’m surprised you care that much. I would think you’d ravish me by now.”
He softly chuckled, dropping the smile to intently stare at you looming over him, caressing your chin between his thumb and index. “I very well could, but with the time constraint we have, I can’t risk that.”
You scoffed, “The event is in 3 hours. You think you can outlast 3 hours? You sure are cocky.”
“I want to make it last a whole night, if I can. And who said I’m the one that has to outlast you?”
Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek, arousal pooling between your legs at the thought alone. You cried in anguish, feeling the burn of his smile as he gazed back at you tauntingly. “You’re such a tease. Why do you keep riling me up?”
“I’m just giving you a fair warning.”
You shook his shoulders frustratingly, “Stop, it’s hot…”
“I’m not the one in someone's lap right now.”
“You’re the one that pulled me on here! You want me so bad right now, admit it.”
“Of course, I want you, but you could’ve left anytime you wanted to. Your impetuosity will be your downfall one day. ”
You leaned in, pushing a long strand of hair behind his ear, “Fine, at least kiss me a little bit. How have we come this far and not even kissed?”
He thumbed over your lips, “Kissing is too tempting for you.”
“Are you sure you’re not projecting?” You grinned cheekily.
He grinned, letting his fingers fall on the pulse on your neck, accelerating at an alarming rate, “Maybe I am, but tell me right now you can kiss me without thinking about wanting to fuck me.”
“…Fuck!” You shoved yourself off his lap, his hands loosening his reins on your body before you stormed into the restroom with your things. “I hate you, I’m getting ready early!”
Since getting there, you’ve pretty much used every opportunity to infiltrate your—still to be determined—partner’s personal space, and for the most part, he’s welcomed it. He’s even encouraged it by initiating hugs from behind or welcoming you to the warmth of his lap on the couch, despite the fact that there were plenty of other places to sit. You both found that you enjoyed this game of cat and mouse, perhaps built over from the time apart, but you knew eventually tonight, you’d see the end of that tail because that mouse tonight would be yours.
However, for now, Seungcheol kept his healthy distance, while you kept yours. Besides the playful glances in the mirror, or the snarky remarks thrown behind a door or wall, you have seemed to have settled on a momentary truce for the sake of time management. He allowed you the privilege to hog the full-body mirror in his bedroom, which you could only assume was to check his body’s progress given the large tub of protein powder on the dresser beside it. And before either of you knew it, the minutes were ticking by, getting closer to the time of the charity event.
Seungcheol was just about finished, ready to set out for the evening. His suit was tailored to fit, his cufflinks were properly fastened, and his hair was properly waxed. Now all that was left was his date, hopefully finished getting ready in the neighboring bedroom.
“Time check. We have ten minutes and counting on the clock until we have to leave. Please...”
Hearing his voice beckoning from the bathroom, you readily spun from the mirror, standing before him with the reason why the remaining words that were meant to pass his lips were lodged down his throat. With the exception of sleeves draping past your shoulders, every inch of your body was wrapped in a rich plum that reached the floor, hugging your frame in a way the office manager couldn’t even imagine. The smug smile on your face reached your ears as you made your way to him in strides, glimpses of your legs peeking through the slit of the fabric before you stopped just a few feet away, covering the rest of you once again.
“I’m just about done. What do you think?” You asked curiously, hoping your efforts were well received.
He approached you in caution, intently circling you like a vulture until a final decision was made. “Denied.”
Your eyes shot back at him, spinning a bewildered 360 of the dress, not thinking rejection was possible with this appearance. “What?"
“You can’t wear that.”
“Why? At least give me a reason.”
He sighed. “You look good, that’s the problem.”
The ends of your mouth curled, crossing over your chest bashfully as you posed from the side playfully. “Are you worried people will look at me all night?”
Holding you by your shoulders, he led you towards the mirror, forcing yourself to face your own reflection as his shadowed behind yours. “People are gonna look at you regardless…The problem is that I will be looking at you all night.”
You let out pleased laughter before meeting eyes back in the mirror, seeing his hunger festering in his eyes as he gazed at you through the mirrored image. The digits of his hands pressed into your bare shoulders, releasing a chill down your spine. “What was that? About you saying that I’d ravish you?”
Your smile melted right off your face, recognizing that face immediately, but for the first time, he had it on entirely sober. His hands ran down your arms to settle on your hips. His lips beckoned closer the nape of your neck, hair standing as his warm breath ghosted your skin. “D-did I say that?” You asked anxiously, feeling the sensation migrate to the tip of your ears. “I’m not sure.”
“Yes, because you know very well I would, and I am just about three seconds away from exhibiting evidence that supports your hypothesis.”
Giving your waist one last squeeze, he slid his hands, palming over your breasts through your dress and locating your nipples as he ran his touch over them, catching your subtle jolt through the reflection. Catching them between his middle knuckles, he wedged them in a tight pinch, perking up as he cradled your breasts tauntingly in his hands.
“T-the risk, Cheol,” you managed to choke out through your gasps, throwing his words back at him, but your efforts were in vain. His smile briefly graced his face before pressing his gaping mouth on the side of your neck. His dark chuckles hummed against your neck as his half-lidded gaze stared back at you in the mirror intoxicatingly. You had never felt more glued to the ground.
“One…”
He gently kneaded them in his grasp, earning a soft gasp as he pressed his body against yours. The thick lining not doing justice to the body you knew he had underneath and that you craved to see just as much. Meanwhile, his enamel grazed the exposed skin on your neck before full lips pressed down, tasting your skin for the first time. The action caused his bulge to move on its own, twitching against your back, and had him so close to swallowing down his inhibitions to do whatever the hell he wanted.
“D-didn’t you say we’d be leaving soon?” You asked, whimpering. You nervously watched as one of his hands moved south to finger over the slit of your dress, subtly hinting what’s next on his mind.
“You weren't the only one between the two of us that struggled this past week. Maybe I should just forgo everything we have on our agenda tonight and stay here with you…two…”
His hand slid beneath the fabric finally and cupped over your heat. His middle finger tracing over your slit with your panties in the way as he sighed into your neck. He inhaled your perfume as he dragged his tongue across your skin, the slick sensation making you clench around nothing.
“Seungcheol, please…”
“Should I? Should I drop everything and better utilize my time tonight to ravish and fuck you like the monster you make me out to be?”
He pushed his digit lengthwise, wedging between your folds as he rubbed, pulling moans out of your throat. He pressed open mouth kissed on your neck as pressure was placed on your clit, his eyes following how you writhed under his touch, but showed no sign of protest. Even when you verbally conveyed doubt, your hand hovered over his that claimed your core and pushed him closer. Your pleading eyes begged for satisfaction as they stared at him through the mirror, the bottom lip caught between your teeth refusing to reveal your mutual lust, so he took action.
“...Three.”
His tongue landed a thick stripe before diving deeper into the crook of your neck whilst his digits reached past your panties, your moan echoing as it bounced off the walls in response, and he felt your pussy in its rawness as its juices coated him. He gasped into your skin, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip before attacking the opposite side of your neck. The hand that held your breast pinching you between his knuckles, teasing the shape in his hands and shallowly groaning in your neck.
He bent you forward, forcing your hands against the mirror as his fingers explored you deeper. From that point, you didn’t see a point in denying it, his fingers inside you meant that you were that much closer to the real thing. Your mewls flooded his ears, his impatience wearing thin, and it worsened as he learned how it felt when you clenched around him. He let out a guttural groan, digging his backside into you as your shared breaths fogged on the glass in the mirror, consuming you both with an insatiable appetite you could only satisfy together.
Meanwhile, you were doing mental gymnastics, knowing the charity event tonight in the back of your mind as the man worshipping you was at the forefront. You had responsibility as his date for tonight to make his appearance happen for the sake of his reputation, for the approval of his superior and because they would be expecting him. But it wasn’t until you stared into his eyes—the ones that fell in a haze of lust and desire for you that you realized succumbing to weakness was a lot more gratifying.
Then a loud alarm went off, vibrating in Seungcheol’s back pocket. All movement stopped, just as did your pleasure, and he removed his lips from your neck while using the hand once fondling your breast to retrieve his phone, sighing at the screen. He pulled away, much to your dismay, and there was not hiding the perplexity on your face as he reverted back to his default state. “I knew this would happen.”
“You set an alarm on your phone?!”
His hand once inside you glistened in your arousal was cleaned up in the matter seconds as he sucked them off clean, smiling back at you with his eyes before getting a quick wash in the sink. Hardly two seconds were spared to give you the time to be shocked that he ate you off his fingers. “There was a risk. I had to be equipped for every possible situation.”
“...You set an alarm on our foreplay knowing it would happen?!”
Instead of answering, he escorted you out of the house and into the car, despite your distress. He chuckled, helping you buckle your seat while you crossed your arms, kissing your cheek before honing his focus on the road. And thereafter, he felt your eyes burning a hole into the side of his head as your horny rumblings became his music throughout the drive. Most of it was incoherent with the exception of few ‘fuck’s or ‘mean tease,’ but as he took your hand in his, you both enveloped in a warmth silence, letting that moment set the mood for the rest of the evening.
Leading up to the steps of the building of the venue, you expected some level of extravagance, but the venue was to the level neither of you expected, impressing you both upon arrival. Entering, you’re welcomed with the smell of decadent food, old architecture, and wealth. Everywhere you looked, there was something new that’d catch your eye, leaving you in a state of perpetual fascination. Meanwhile, Seungcheol, with his elbow safely linked with yours, had only subtly skimmed the room, trying to find familiar faces and the host of this event.
They looked no further as the hosts themselves, Mr. Lee along with his beautiful wife, came from the sides to greet you both gregariously, welcoming you to enjoy the food, the live entertainment, and what else that was being offered while the night was young. You both thanked them, complimenting them on the choice in venue and told them you were looking forward to the rest of the night.
They bidded you a farewell as of then and continued to greet other guests, letting you pass through the threshold into the ballroom area, the heart of the entire building. It bustled with soft jazz and well dressed guests, all speaking to one another with a drink in one hand and passed appetizers in the other.
Before you could breathe another word, a tray of champagne flutes was shoved in your faces. “Champagne?” The waiter asked.
You plucked the flute right out of Seungcheol’s hands the moment he selected one and placed it back on the tray. “No, not tonight. Dry night,” you politely smiled at the waiter before they moved on to the next poor sap within distance.
You looked at your date, staring at him with a stern expression as he raised an eyebrow. “I did you a favor. Drinking will only impede on your efforts to abstain,” You said, mocking his tone of voice.
He gave you a smug grin. “Although you’re mocking me, I’m proud of you. Especially for knowing the word impede.”
In playful irritation, you licked the back of your molars before roughly tugging him along to the refreshment spread and with his dimpled grin hugging his cheeks as he trailed after you.
Throughout the night, Seungcheol saw faces new and old, getting as many names and business cards as he possibly could. Though he knew he was ready to leave as soon as he arrived, prepared with objectives and set of goals that would better him business wise. Nevertheless, he found himself enjoying other people’s company, but the reason for that was you.
You lit up the room, like you’ve lit up the last couple months you’ve seen each other. He pretended he didn’t notice it before and realized it’s something he wouldn’t be able to deny now. He hadn’t intended on gaining a new fear, he had no choice in the matter. Losing you was something he couldn’t put himself through again.
As a kid, Seungcheol had no control over his life. His parents had found out he had been getting distracted. Somehow, they learned he spent time outside of practice, in addition to skipping them, and with a girl nonetheless. They decided to nip the problem in the bud.
At some point, all of the competitions, all the pressure to please his parents and fit their mold, had made him believe that you–the person he had gotten the closest to–wanted to sabotage him and his accomplishments. He was told you were someone that would weaken him, that would dull his senses. An obstacle in the way of his true potential. He didn’t want to believe it, and initially he didn’t, until he took notice of the friendships you created outside taekwondo classes, how warm and familiar they looked, as if the one you two had wasn’t anything special. It made him angry, and he grew this animosity towards you. Suddenly, the words that were being shouted at him were starting to feel as if they had some truth.
At eleven years old, at the peak of hormones, when young Seungcheol saw you, he saw red and didn’t even want to speak with you. You tried your best to see his frustration and get through to him, but he had already gotten too far, or at least you thought he had. One day at practice, you found rocks in your shoes, rocks sharp enough to cut through skin. You screamed at what felt like an indescribable pain, forced to get stitches on the soles of your feet and avoid the ground for about a few weeks.
With the events that happened recently, all evidence pointed to Seungcheol, and although you didn’t want to believe it, who else could it have been? He was worried. Of course, he wouldn’t have done that, but then he heard you start pointing fingers. Now, he thought this was one of your tricks. One of those things you had set up to ruin him. Just like your presence fucked with his mind and caused him to be the weakest version himself to ever exist. And yet, he still cried for you, hoping that you were still okay.
But it turned out his parents just needed a little money and some help from a third party to accidentally drop a few loose rocks and spread some middle school gossip.
Eventually it all became too much. You were forced apart. Seungcheol’s parents moved him away, and your parents never let you do taekwondo again. And nothing ever tied you back together. Until a couple months ago.
He hadn’t learned that until years later until adulthood, just before he cut contact with his family. The anger he once had for you had evolved to guilt, and since forging the contract to fake date, he made a commitment to himself to keep you at arm’s length. He couldn't do that any more. Obviously. But not because he had an affinity for you.
You made him come to realize that everything goes according to plan, but not always on his plan. Whatever he had scheduled in his agenda, or was on his long lists of tasks, it didn’t matter. Timing had a way of steering your boat, often off course, and sometimes you just had to be along for the ride.
“We can’t leave yet!” You whispered, your giggles softly echoing from the walls.
“We’re not trying to leave,” Seungcheol softly retorted, dragging you in the darkness of a dark corridor, deprived of guests and warm lighting.
You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, “Then, what are we doing?”
“I…wanted to get some privacy with my girlfriend.”
You melted, taking his hands in yours and swaying them gently in the air. “You’ve never called me that before. Not even when…you know.”
His hand brushed over your waist, pulling you towards him, gazing at you with tenderness in his eyes you couldn’t even fathom for words. “Amongst the lies, I didn’t want that to be one of them.”
You softly sighed, burying your head into his chest until he gently pulled you back by your cheeks, cupping to feel the heat of his palms fuse with the heat of your face. You were putty in his grasp, malleable to his touch, following his hands as he swayed you to the muted sounds of the music seeping out of the doors leading through the ballroom. Nothing could take you away from him. Part of you envied the fact that he was experiencing all these feelings, knowing it was his first, but you wondered if you had truly ever felt this way for anyone else.
“What are you doing to me, Choi Seungcheol?” You uttered in awe.
He let out a wistful sigh, a soft chuckle making past his lips. “I’ve been wanting to ask you that same question.”
He thumbed the side of your face, parting his mouth as you radiated back at him with anticipation, and slotting your lips between his. He held you with a gentle hand, holding you as if you were delicate enough to break if he wasn’t careful, languidly moving to your comfort, and warmth bloomed in his chest feeling you kiss him back. You threw your arms around his neck, deepening your lip lock as your heart tightened in your chest, the once ache and longing you’ve felt when reuniting with this man finally resolved by a chaste kiss.
As you reluctantly parted, you were overcome with tears, staring back at him with flushed cheeks and quickly his thumbs were placed under your tear ducts. His rounded eyes ran over you in concern, while holding your face for a clear inspection. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head reassuringly, gripping the lapels of his suit. “I liked it…I like you. I like you so, so much.”
He smiled relieved, kissing your forehead with his. “I like you,” he softly confessed, “yesterday, today, tomorrow, and always.”
Your smile broke out, and now you met him halfway, holding his body against you as you cherished his lips longer than the first and savored how they melted together effortlessly. Holding you by the waist and feeling you tangible under the heat of his palms, Seungcheol was in bliss knowing that every ounce of your entire being was his. He deepened his impression on you remembering that, and you returned the gesture. Gradually, the warm tenderness transitioned into a feverish rush, moving as if you were in a race with time.
The once sweet kiss festered to the extent of muffling moans when you suddenly tugged on his bottom lip with your mouth, tension coiling in an already aroused man’s stomach. That caused you to be backed against a wall, his torso pinning you down with his body flushed against yours as his tongue learned to trace the inside of your mouth. You held him by the back of his neck, carding your fingers impulsively through his styled hair, growing reckless and ignorant to your surroundings with only sex on your mind. And like minded, your boyfriend got bold sliding a hand through the slit and hooking a leg to his side. He took a full stroke down its length before it reached up your thigh and finally the curve of your ass, squeezing the flesh in a tight grip and unearthing a whimper that was too late to suppress.
Your lips parted for a moment, giving him an accusatory glance before he quickly offered his snap rebuttal of, “I told you this dress would be a problem,” before closing the distance once again.
In the darkest part of that corridor, you shared an unforgettable moment, brimming it with as many kisses and intimate caresses as possible until it had to be cut short when Seungcheol quickly realized this vicinity was also on the way to one of the bathrooms if the other happened to be unavailable. Soon after, you both enjoyed the rest of the evening the best you could in the ballroom, doing your share of participating in charity bids and eating desserts that would later come out. The night went as smoothly as it could’ve and lasted a little longer into the night until guests were starting to leave, giving the strategic office manager an opening to make an exit as well. Then that's when the real festivities began.
You practically raced him to his front door, feeling him crash into you from behind with his lips against your neck as you barely passed through, put in the code, and let the automatic lock fulfill its purpose. Shoes were kicked off to who knows where as teeth clumsily clicked together, impatience setting you both ablaze. Seungcheol, hurling his jacket on the ground, claimed your face in one hand, squeezing the meat of your ass in the other through the slit of your dress and hiking it up to your waist.
“Fuck, this dress,” he grumbled, meeting your hips with his to feel the build up swelling in the crotch of his pants, emitting a moan from your lips as you clawed over his torso.
You fiddled over his buttons, undoing them and tossing the dress shirt aside and leaning against a wall and getting into the habit of swirling his tongue with yours as he crushed himself against your lips.
“You really had nothing to drink?” You joked, tracing over his abdomen to feel his tense under your palms.
“I wanted to be sober for this. Now how the fuck do you take this damn thing off?”
You gave a wide grin. “Zipper on the back.”
He flipped you over in an instant, your palms instantly pressed on the wall as he tried to find the zipper so seamlessly hidden in the garment work.
“Finally.” As he pulled it down, he left with another big surprise, one that he should’ve realized from the beginning if he hadn’t been so blind in lust. “I thought I felt something different when I touched you today, but the entire time, you had no bra.”
“You can’t wear one with this dress,” you justified. “And I saved you the rookie mistake of having to struggle with taking off the bra for the first time.”
“What makes you think it’s the first time?”
You snapped your head at him. “Did you—“
He chuckled, kissing you along your spine, “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I’m entirely clueless. I think I’ve proven that more than enough.”
He reached underneath the dress to follow up your chest, feeling your breasts in both his hands as his index fingers stimulate your buds enough to perk. Landing a final kiss to the small of your back, he straightened back up, lips reaching your ear. “But don’t worry, I’ve never had to do that for anyone. I was just really excited to do it on you.”
His tongue flicked at your ear before biting, grinding himself against your ass that backed into his touch, earning him a mewl from the depths of your throat.
“I really can’t get you out of my head sometimes,” he admitted, letting the straps of the dress fall along with the weight of the rest of it. He let out a guttural groan at the reveal, teeth sinking into your shoulder to contain himself. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and coaxed him to flip you back over, leaving him to face your erect buds pointing back at him, the soft curves of your breasts, and almost every flushed, naked inch—with the small exception of your clothed, drenched heat—of your body.
“And now I never fucking will,” he griped, breathlessly.
“Cheol, please, I’m already so fucking wet,” you cried.
He held up a shaking hand and ran the other repeatedly through his hair in anguish, catching his breath as eyes running over you in clear bafflement. “I’m really trying to process everything I’m looking at right now, wow—fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
You sighed, feeling hotter the longer his eyes lingered on your body, but growing equally as agitated. “If you don’t do something right now—so help me, god—”
And right at that second, he was on his knees, fingertips at the top hem of your panties before pulling them down to your ankles as his eyes never left yours. His lips puckered, parting anxiously kissed up your shins, leaving a trail of migrating goosebumps. “Tell me what I should do, I’m not above being taught right from wrong.”
You covered your face with the back of your hand, hiding your diffidence, “F-from down there, are you crazy?”
His lips continued their worship, hands grasping at your thighs to spread them apart, leading up to your inner skin lightly covered in film of your overflowing arousal. To earn a wanton moan, his tongue ran a long stripe, dragging his bottom lip with him, before sucking the rest of you off clean. As the squelching reached your ears, tingling sensations dispersed throughout your hands and toes, furling your digits as your heels dug into the floor.
Your shallow gasps exited your body as pleasure entered, feeling him delve between your folds. Albeit, it reflected on the extent of his experience, but it showed promise, and as soon as he learned to follow directions, he proved just how much he was committed to learning the craft.
“Mmh, move a little higher.”
“Higher,” He raised his finger, “there?”
You chuckled, “Too high now, a smidge lower.”
“There?”
“Now it’s too low, again.” You grabbed him by the back of his head, stared back down at his pretty rounded eyes, before aligning his lips correctly in the smack middle, his mouth curling up at his target in relief. “Bingo.”
You’re scoffing at him, thinking he’s reacting as if he’s the one who uncovered the clit, until you felt him suck, striking you down with a ripples of shock as fire pooled and then exploded in your abdomen. The suction tensed your body before he reintroduced his tongue in sharp flicks, and you can’t help the strength you put into roughly yanking his hair, only for this manic laughter to vibrate up and your blooming core.
“Laughing?” You asked between clenched teeth, “while you’re driving me–ah–nuts?”
“Just happy this is a particular skill you can teach me,” He responded cheekily.
“You’re such a smartass.”
He raised a thick eyebrow before penetrating his tongue through your folds while his top lip grinded on your bud. Endlessly, his jaw hungrily worked into your pussy to the sound of your voice, noting how you would clench around his tongue, until he was tasting cum—your cum—in his mouth for the first time. Somehow, just the taste fueled the greed already instilled in him, his eyes blazed with a childish sense of mischief.
Now you were really wondering whether teaching him was a good idea if he was to learn this well that quickly.
Seungcheol tried making it upstairs, but with the way you were bruising his lips made him antsy, impatient, and plain fucking horny. He dropped you at the top of the steps, your bare ass kissing the cool laminated wood. “I can’t fucking take it anymore.”
“Cheol!” Your tits found his mouth, sucking and drawing circles with tongue as he single handedly tried unbuckling his pants kneeling on the steps. “The room—ah—it’s just right there!”
When the belt buckle broke free, he unlooped from his pants and threw it behind him, the clang of the metal and slap of leather descending down the steps. “I feel like I might explode if I’m not inside you right now,” he rasped.
You cupped his cheeks—seeing lust starting to cloud voice of reason—and tried to ease him in with a sweet smile. Soothing him with a calming voice, you reined in his attention. “Look at me. Do you have protection on you right now?”
He shook his head frantically, “It’s in the room.”
“As hot as it would be to do it right here, right now, we need that, okay? We just have to take a few more steps, and then you can do anything you want with me. Can you be a good boy and do that for me?”
Seungcheol froze, mouth agape, visibly absorbing the words that just left your lips, and you wondered if you had just killed the mood—or worse, his boner. You gulped, parting your lips to retract your statement if you needed to before he crashed his lips on yours. He pulled you between his teeth, sucking and devouring at your lips as the tent between his legs prodding at your thigh twitch incessantly. Swiftly, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his torso and arms around his neck.
“I can be a good boy…I can be a real good boy…” he went and started bolting into the bedroom.
He dropped you on the bed, climbing on top of you and reclaiming your lips with ravenous need. As well an incline of sharp breaths, you heard him struggle getting his pants off, feeling the sweat of his skin adhere to the fabric as they chafed his thick thighs. “Gotta be fucking kidding–”
“Hey,” You softly whispered, caressing his cheeks hot to the touch. “Let me help you.”
You pushed him off the bed to land on his feet, sinking your knees into the mattress, and patiently pulled the leg of the pants off his thigh to his ankles one at a time. He loomed over you anxiously, his thighs tingling as your nails brushed against him, roaming up and breaching the fabric of his briefs. His breath hitched in his throat, his teeth clenched and jaw locked in place, as your eyes slowly met, sultry with the soft pout of your lips and gentle batting of your eyes.
You fingered at his waistband, stretching the elastic. “Do you want me to help with these too?”
His mind went blank, fuck. This is why he drank. He swallowed the confirmation that burned and died on his tongue before finally nodding, stroking the back of your head encouragingly. He pushed his bottom lip in his mouth to bite down, watching as you advanced towards him when suddenly your teeth made contact with his torso.
Eyes shooting at you to see the heady look in your eyes as your enamel scraped down his abdomen, letting goosebumps take real estate up his arms and legs, and bite down on the hem before you took a cheeky pull. You let out a soft laugh, the breath that came with it producing a violent lurch that joined you both a tad more closer, and your lips now found themselves kissing his abdomen as his size nuzzled under your chin. His mouth dropped, his groan melting into moans as his eyes stayed lecherously glued to you, managing to choke out, “Sorry.”
You softly hummed before continuing. Gradually you pulled back by the waistband, teeth inevitably grazing skin, lips lightly brushing over the shaft, until you finally unraveled him as he landed on your face with a flop.
The image could’ve put him in cardiac arrest; he wasn’t even sure if he was alive now.
“Oh gosh,” you cooed, watching the pink on his face turn a bright red. “No wonder you can’t control yourself. You’re huge. I’d be horny all the time too with this log in my pants.”
“I can make that happen.”
You narrowed your eyes at his sudden change in tune. “We’re calling your manufacturer to get rid of your humor setting.”
“So you think I’m funny?”
You took a beat. “What are you doing?”
“…I don’t know. My cock on your face is making me sound stupid. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism.”
With an airy laugh, you let his briefs fall to his ankles as the head of his cock ghosted over your mouth. Licking your lips, your tongue flicked at tip before leaving a small peck, leaving a titillating shiver run down his spine. “Then why don’t you close that pretty mouth and let mine take care of that for you?”
Without getting his answer, you descended to the base, tongue licking the underside of his shaft before you wrapped your lips and sucked on the head, and all with no hands. His nails dug into his thigh, deep white crescents forming as you bobbed deeper, your cheeks hugging tighter around his girth. A distraught sigh slipped past his firmly pressed lips as the sensation of your tongue swirling against his veins to taste his musk and engulf him in a slick, sweltering heat.
“You…you’re really…damn it,” he grunted, his hand claiming the back of your head as you’ve already reached half his length. “You’re…you’re really gonna take all of it?”
Enthralled with a sense of challenge, you batted your lashes and inhaled a sharp breath before your mouth sank down. Your cheeks hollowed, letting the pressure rub against the perimeter, gripping him in your mouth as the saliva that pooled eased him inside, and gradually got closer to his groin as you swallowed more. In turn, his grip grew tighter, gathering more of your hair to hold it high and out of way, your pretty face and swollen lips in clear view.
“Fuck…I’m…Why are you so good at this?” He softly whined before you’re just about over an inch away to reach his base, feel him hit the back of your throat.
You moaned with him inside your mouth, drool dripping along your chin, undulating him at an unforeseeable pace that he could only watch as he dipped deeper inside you. Your hand flattened against his abdomen, caressing and tracing over his form before clasping over his sides, digging your fingers in his torso to grip him before your lips reached the groin. You tightly shut your eyes, letting the cock squeeze down your throat, and you held him in place as tears collected in your eyes.
Seungcheol carried out a heavy groan, softly rocking his hips in your mouth when he felt himself twitch, bursting with arousal, and he couldn’t handle the pressure seeing the anguish on your face. As gently as he could, he pulled you right off him, ensuing them coughing, gagging, and gasping for air as his hands fell off your hair, cradling your cheeks in his hands as your makeup visibly streaked down your face. “Why would you hurt yourself like that?” he growled.
And despite the look of suffering, you smiled, kissing into his palm. “Because I wanted to feel you down my throat,” you answer plainly, as if it was the normal response in the world.
His cock softly perked, quickly shielded it in his hands before you took them away and held the cock up to your face once more. Your lips curved to the sides in a soft kiss, thumbing over a vein. “You never thought of me deep throating you before? I have.”
“I…I never considered the possibility, honestly,” he quietly admitted.
“Well, this time watch, and don’t stop me.”
You fisted him at his base, spitting on him and dropping a long translucent ribbon stretching from your lips before you welcomed him back in your mouth. He tried refraining his hands from seizing your efforts, unsure what to do with them until you took one and let it fall back on your hair, guiding him to push your head down to take control.
This was such foreign territory, he didn’t know what was good for him. He just found out sex—or the theory of it—felt good about a week ago. Before that, he’s only had about a handful of masturbation sessions, none of which were exceedingly successful and mediocre at best, and not without your help. Besides, he’s only ever thought about what would make you feel good, not himself, so it didn’t really matter. He just knew he didn’t think he could find the raw emotional and animalistic feelings he’s had for you in anyone else even if he tried. You put his head somewhere out of his own body and now, he needed to trust you, like you were trusting him.
He took your hair in his grip and watched you stretch his cock between your lips, getting closer to getting pulled over his entirety and hitting the back of your throat, only this time, he’d let you. As you inched closer to his groin, he found himself observing with bated breath, jaw fallen slack as his hips slowly rolled into your mouth, teetering to the edge of conquest.
“Shit, shit, shit.” He muffled his moans in his fists as you ran him in your mouth, gagging on him as you reached the final destination and let him plug your airways. The squelching and moisture burned his ears as you built tension in his cock, slobbering and making every second of suction worth the loss of oxygen. You dragged his torso, pulling him down until he had you lying flat on your back, wantonly sucking with sheer hunger and desperation like you’ve been wanting the past week since that Bach party until you had a Seungcheol cock shaped mold for a throat.
He couldn’t even hold himself back, towering over you as hands balled into the sheets and knees dug into the mattress. He buried his head into his duvet as his stomach clenched, letting the waves of his orgasm follow through his hips and shake as they took the form of thrusts into your mouth, combusting inside you helplessly and every ounce of ivory white squeezed down your throat, lumpy pumps visibly rolling beneath the skin of your neck.
“Fuck!”
He rolled off you, throwing a hand over his eyes and overcome in embarrassment as the red covered every inch of his body while white flooded your mouth and seeped past your impish smile.
“Why would you fucking do that? That's the last thing I wanted to do? Shit.” Seungcheol whined, burning his face in a pillow.
You crawled over him, chest to chest as you rested your forearms over his clavicle. “A little revenge for what you fucking did a little before we left for that event.”
“This was way worse. And I apologized.”
“No you didn’t!”
“Me getting on my knees was the apology.”
“You thoroughly enjoyed that.”
“A win-win,” he brought your head down to taste your lips, surprisingly not repulsed by the fact that his own organ and release has been inside you, even licking the bit of it from the corner of your lips. “So…in two minutes, can you let me put my dick inside you already—between your legs so we’re being clear?”
You laughed so hard, before pressing your cheek against his. “Yes. God, yes.”
“Nevermind, I can’t wait.”
He toppled over you, pressing his weight over you, nipping your ear before reaching into his bedside, grabbing something just out of view that you barely make out in the corner of your eye.
“The party favors from last week? You still have those? I thought we lost them.”
“Did you ever look at them?”
You shook your head, unsure. “Maybe a quick look before I threw it in the bag.”
He uncovered something shiny in colorful packaging and waved it over your face. Your eyes shot open in pleasant surprise. “Condoms. Flavored condoms. This has Eunbi written all over it.”
“There’s also flavored lube, sex dice, and a full can of whip cream for some reason. Everything else seemed normal,” he added with a question mark.
“Unfortunately, flavored condoms would’ve only been useful about a minute ago before you exploded inside my throat.”
He cleared his throat, tossing the colorful wrapping before holding on to something else shiny and familiar. “No worries. They also included unflavored. Trojan, your favorite.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you softly scoffed, before his mouth stole your voice, mingling your breaths.
“No,” he refuted in a breathy tone, “you are.”
His upper thigh nudged against your molten heat and let your wetness coat his lower body. He ripped open the wrapping out of view, carefully looking down to lift his torso and roll rubber over the length before smiling when you helped him secure it in place. Your eyes met, exacerbating that heat that felt as tangible as your intertwined bodies, as the key to putting it out laid stiff and snug in between.
Your hand combed through his hair, the fusion of sweat and spice wafting over you as your legs hooked against his sides. “Put it in me…”
His fingers caressed over your slit, feeling you soak his fingers. “You’re really wet,” he breathed, swooningly.
“And I can’t wait any longer.”
“Me neither.”
The curve of the head prodded at your entrance, rubbing against your slick folds before easing through your entrance and exhaling a deep breath of relief. You quelled a moan threatening to spill from your lips, clasping your hands over your neck as he cushioned the pressure with his mouth on yours. He felt your stiff peaks and the curves of your breasts softly rub against his chest, pressing his hand to your waist as your back arched closer to his touch.
Seungcheol’s soft groans heated your cheeks as his hips dipped deeper between your legs, pulsing in soft angled thrusts. The way you fluttered around his fingers earlier that day was what you were doing now around his cock, driving him up a wall, putting him through a fit of shakes, and he peppered frenzied kisses on your face in response.
“You drive me crazy,” he achingly whispered.
You moaned as his lips buried in your neck, mouthing over your throat as his teeth lightly grazed skin, feeling him fill you deeper with the submerge of every inch. “Cheol,” you quietly murmured, your eyes fluttered in and out of focus, “Fast, slow…whatever you want, I can take it.”
He moved sweaty strands of hair out of your way, “I want you to enjoy it too.”
“It’s you. You know I will,” you reassured before propping your legs on him and clamping down, slamming him against you to get the full taste of his arousal and hitting the hilt deep within you, earning a guttural groan unearthed from the depths of his throat. He thought he was starting to get used to your body, and sometimes not at all. Not when you do this.
“You’re…you’re so fucking impatient,” he hissed, clinging to you against in contrary to his tone.
You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, grinding up hungrily to grow friction between your clit on his groin, muffled whines being pulled out of you as Seungcheol dragged himself out to only plunge himself back in. Your teeth sunk into his shoulder, nails dug into his back. You held onto that sensation until he duplicated it again and again, leaving you slack-jawed as he turned one-two-three thrusts to an endless cycle.
“Cheol, oh my god,” you moaned, throwing your head back into the sheets, your digits furling and tension in your stomach coiling.
“Yes,” he managed to muster, clearing the messy hair away from your face, endeared by the way your legs twitched around his torso and how your eyes glisten with adoration that made him feel loved and made him never want his eyes to stray. “Tell me.”
“You’re making me feel so good,” you delicately cooed.
“Yeah?” He sweetly cupped your face, rolling his hips before taking a sharp thrust. “I feel good inside you?”
You nodded, your hand ran in his hair, wistfully staring back as you licked your lips. “In me so deep,” needy hips snapping back into him. “Fucking me so good.”
“Shit,” he moaned, clenching his abdomen in pride before his thrusts hastened. Eyes ripping open, you threw your head forward, your nails penetrated his forearms, you bellowed a carnal roar, startling him but not stopping him.
“That hurt?”
“No…More…” you growled in anguish, your appetite far from vanquished.
Your eyes rolled back as skin collided like cymbals, crashing and burning against one another loudly and hard. Everything around you started to fade out of view until it was just Seungcheol, who would stop at nothing to please you. And please you he did when your lips slotted together, tracing the shape of our mouth with tongues before you felt it peeking, teetering on the edge of its arrival, clawing at your door.
“I’m close,” you harshly whispered, “Fuck, I’m so close.”
He was smart, he took the hint. “Keep going? Or go faster?”
“…faster?”
“Okay.”
“Wai—ah-ahh—“
You squeezed around him, tightening every limb as it clung to every part of him as he rammed into you, somehow still rock hard, and with energy left to give it to you harder. You felt every inch of him in that moment of ecstasy. His girth stretched your walls, his length hollowing you out until you’re nothing without him and you might as well be, and your tongue sinfully on stuck his name as it branded you.
“I’m cumming, Seungcheol! I'm cumming!”
Your stomach would tense, his name coming out as a sound of anguish, plead, elation. You latched on to him, holding on as your release may adhere to him, spilling on him and only him as you shook, trembling before he reclaimed your lips, his distraction soothing and easing your mind.
“Hey,” he softly muttered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “You okay?”
“More than that,” you quietly answered, with a growing grin.
“You…kinda lost it there.”
You rolled your eyes, swiveling your head away from him. “Oh, shut up.”
He grinned before landing on his back beside, quickly disposing of the condom just out of view.
“You’re way worse than me,” he pointed out, making you slap him on the chest.
“Enough.”
But he didn’t seem to think so. “So, that’s what nymphomania is like firsthand.”
“Okay, you wanna have a go? I have energy for a fight, I can still fight, you know,” he pulled you towards him, holding your arms in place and feeling you writhe in his grip.
“That's alright. I don’t mind, as long as I’m on the other end of it.”
For a while, it’s silence and just each other's presence. You both laid side by side, your sweat and fatigue just hanging in the air for you both to bask in. You nuzzled up to him closer, feeling him turn to his side to face you, and your eyes lock as they always do: with a strike of electricity right through them.
“You’re so pretty,” he complimented softly, gently touching your face, the heat blooming rapidly between his fingers.
“And you’re so…hot. Shit.” You laid back down flat, your cheeks and ears burning in clarity.
He looked over you, eyebrow ascending in puzzlement before chuckling and retrieving you. “Is my sexual appeal frustrating to you?”
You groaned. “You’re so annoying. Had to be you of all people, oh my god,” you exasperatedly grumbled.
He spun you back to face him, his smile the most annoyingly handsome thing about him. “I would hope it’s me, because for me it’s only you. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want to look. I know you’re who I want.”
“…Fuck!” You shouted from the top of your lungs before crashing your lips onto his, revving your engines and reigniting the fire kindling in your stomach that had only been briefly subdued.
Even at all hours of the night, when you lost track of time, you never got tired of that face. Flushed, elated as he faced you, swollen mouths meeting harmoniously, as your bodies fit together and you claimed his lap. His length plunged inside as you sank down on him, colliding against the muscles of his thigh as your walls fluttered around his cock to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your arms looped securely around his neck as one of his arms tucked over your back closed and teased a bouncing, lively breast with the other.
“Like that please,” you pleaded, breathlessly.
“That good?” He asked, moving his hand to the meat of your ass, undulating you towards him. “Do you like that?”
You nodded, every nerve in your body restless as he stimulated every possible sense you had, making you reel with pleasure. “Fuck yes, like that, shit.”
He whimpered as your thighs squeezed around him, bowing his head to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling until you squealed uncontrollably, dragging your hips with the force of his hands for better control.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he gritted before planting his shins on the mattress, lifting his ass and groin up before thrusting up into with accelerated strength and speed.
You let out a large gasp before that familiar growl, clinging to him before your nails pierced and clawed his back muscle, feeling him reach there depths that have only led to happy endings. “Fuck, cheol!”
“Shit, what I wouldn’t do for you…for your pretty face, pretty eyes, pretty voice, pretty hair—fuck, it makes me want to put my cum in you!” Tension rising in his legs as he thrusted harder, anything you once saw in front of you was gone when your vision had disappeared to the back of your mind.
“Mmmh, that’s so good, don’t fucking stop!” You raggedly cried.
His hands splayed over the curve of your ass, squeezed and bounced you on him deeper while sucking and running his tongue over your tits as if he was starved. Nothing could pry either of you off each other, and the noises that culminated and bleed through the walls of Seungcheol’s home were enough loud deafening proof of that.
Each stroke, each thrust, each mind numbing orgasm–if a round led to one at all and most of the time it did–seemed as if it was better than the last. Seungcheol was right to assumed he’d make it last the whole night, because by the time they had been too tired to continue, birds were chirping out the window, but at least you both had finally gotten some rest.
“So what now?”
He chuckled at the sudden question in the middle of your morning snuggle, feeling your warm embrace after an estimated four to five hours of sleep. Not ideal in terms of recommended amount of sleep for a healthy adult, but enough. “You’re asking me?”
“Well, we’ve been ‘dating’ in the eyes of everyone for the last 2 to 3 months, but some things are gonna look a little different now, I’m guessing. So what now?”
He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead with his. “People mind their business, and we enjoy it.”
“We enjoy it,” you repeated, rather liking the sound of that.
And he nodded, and you smiled knowing the answer was perfect just as is and anyone who questioned had their own problems to deal with.
“Can I still visit your office sometimes?”
He softly scoffed, parting your hair tenderly. “You can do whatever you want. They obviously love you a lot more than they like me.”
You smiled mischievously, climbing on top of his lap, and kissing the top of his nose. “Good, I get to keep you all to myself.”
He raised a playful brow, letting out a sigh of realization. “So, you’re that kind of girlfriend.”
You lightly punched him in the arm, but he caught your fist in his hand, unfurling your fingers to interlock with his, flustering you with his touch as he scooted closer, straightening your joined bodies against the bed frame.
“I like it. I won’t have anything to worry about. Except. Maybe, what I'll have to worry about is how I’ll get anything done when I’m kissing you,” he said with a kiss, “Touching you,” he said with a caress to your backside and pebbling your skin, drowning you in a mellow and decadent voice, “and making sweet, sweet love to you.”
And there went the little rest you had and the rest of your weekend.
Eventually, weekends had to end and Mondays came around again. Seungcheol started to understand why people hated them so much. Workdays and long hours at work meant he had less time for you and making up for time they’ve lost in the week they’ve lost with the stress of the project. However, that was over now. He could go back to his regularly scheduled programming. And now, he knew not to take a good thing like you for granted and with a lighter workload, his work and life balance seemed more manageable.
“Mr. Choi isn’t back yet?” Minghao asked, seeing an empty office.
Chan perked up from behind his cubicle, shaking his head. “He's still out on his lunch date with his girlfriend. Somewhere special, I heard.”
Jeonghan winced in disagreement, smirking, “Are they really out? I could’ve sworn I saw his car still in the parking garage in his spot.”
Chan shrugged, walking around with an imaginary question mark above his head as he launched his crumbled up take out bag into a disposal bin and missing before hurrying along to properly throw it away. “Maybe they took a cab.”
Joshua pretended to ponder, swiveling his chair to the center of the office floor, “Or…”
They flocked to him, ear in first, eyes all rounded in interest as they anticipated the words that would come next out of their colleague’s mouths. Joshua rubbed his fingers curiously, conspiracy on his mind as he closed his hands around his mouth in secrecy, a hushed tone coming out the other end. “Maybe, they’re doing something not safe for work on the company's dime. Right. Now.”
“Ey,” Seokmin scolded, “It’s Mr. Choi, we're talking about Choi Seungcheol. As loving as a partner I’m sure he is, he’s responsible enough to avoid those kinds of situations. It’s probably traffic or something.”
Mumbling in agreement, everyone fell closer in line with Seokmin’s theory and resumed work. Meanwhile, Jeonghan nudged Joshua, who had been his cubicle neighbor and work friend for the better half of three years. “I don’t think you’re far off, but the chances of him doing something that scandalous are slim to none. Before his current girlfriend, I hadn’t even seen him speak to a woman.”
“I guess so,” Joshua sighed, unsure of his theory now. “I wonder what they’re really doing then.”
As the working men of VENTE Co. consumed their hours with gossip and the usual run of the mill office antics that would help keep them awake, a certain office manager was consumed with something else in the darkness of the VENTE Co. parking garage. As his hands lost themselves in the heat of the weight toppling on top of him, at the same time they were persistent in pushing him off, failing as the slickness of their previous ventures on the front seat of his sport sedan.
He’d mumble the same three words without fail, etching them into your skin, deeply inhaling your lingering matter in the midst of your blended breaths. “Five more minutes.”
Suffocated in the compartmentalized space of the vehicle, you gently shoved the hands off of your boyfriend, sweat beading down your forehead and chest as he tried to undo the buttons you had redone with his lips latched on your neck. “You have work!” You moaned in a mix of frustration and residual arousal.
“You don’t,” he whined softly.
You groaned, “Yes, I do. With projects, clients, meetings, just like you.”
“Then what do you do?” He started to argue, irritability singeing on his tongue, “All this time you’ve said you worked when I have no idea what.”
You sighed and rested your hand on his shoulders. You met eyes and tried to focus with his hair disheveled, his dress shirt half done, a massive tent in his pants, and a sliver of firm pectoral muscle lightly layered in perspiration calling out to you like a siren to a sailor at sea. Finally, a resigned expression graced your face, at last willing to tell him your job that had to be the most lucrative, but boring quality about yourself, that you’ve always had to explain to your dates, twice, what exactly it is you did. Then again, this was Seungcheol. If anyone understood what you did for work, it’d be him.
“I’m a freelance Business Management Consultant overseeing a few startups. Some you’ve maybe have heard before and one maybe…that recently entered in the Fortune 500.”
“…That is so fucking sexy and makes so much sense.” He hurriedly started unbuttoning your shirt again, burying his face in the valley of your tits, “Ten minutes!”
“Cheol, please!”
“Ok, 5 minutes.” You rolled your eyes as you pushed his back, and pinning him against his seat as he frowned and lightly flailed his arms, lips puffing to swell in a frustrated pout before whining, “Come on!”
“Are you…pouting?”
He blinked, taken aback by your question until he glanced himself in the front view mirror before pointing at his face. “Is that what it’s called?”
You squished his cheeks, feeling the warmth of his face burn your palms and between your fingers as it spread throughout your body. Suddenly, you’ve been thrown into a proprietary state of being, clinging on to him and the image of this rare distortion of his features until you can make him do an expression like it again. “You do that for no one but me.”
Despite the confusion that passed through him, he nodded, only puffing his lip bigger as a result as his hands crept slyly around your bare frame, feeling the goosebumps that he raised in his trail.
“Five more minutes,” you agreed, before crashing lips with him again, making his lunch break even longer than expected.
That was the first of a handful of incidents, but the most memorable of the bunch, at least for everyone below Seungcheol. To this day, the office commemorates it as “The day no one knew why Mr. Choi was taking his lunch break for so long.” That had started a flurry of new rumors going around the building, and honestly, Seungcheol liked these ones better.
Post Author's Note: i put so much time and love into this and it's one of the first things I'm posting this year but so far it's my favorite thing I'm posting this year?? It definitely isn't the last don't worry there's plenty more, idk if it's up to this caliber but it'll always be written with love. So, feedback is much appreciated and I want to thank you guys, the readers, for taking the time to read this monstrosity that took me the moon, a pot of gold, and my sanity to write. Anyone that's been here throughout this journey with me on this site, I give you my whole heart, seriously.
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When He's your Rival (w/ Tsukishima, Oikawa, Kuroo, and Atsumu) x Fem! reader
enemies to lovers but someone mistakes rivalry with feelings LMAO
Warning(s): cursing! some unwanted touches by an asshole in Oikawa's part, crying- Y/N's a little crybaby sometimes LOL
Tsukishima Kei
"Take a look and cry, four-eyes."
"Go back to fifth grade, I'm begging."
Smirking at his snarky comment, Tsukishima finds the energy to lazily lift his head off the desk, staring blankly at the red 97 inked on the corner of your paper, complete with a messily scrawled circle and a smiley face.
You always were a teacher's pet.
"Nice." The blonde yawns, going to put his head back down. "I scored a 99 though. Guess having four eyes really helps."
He can't stop the satisfied twitch tickling his lips as he buries his head a little further into his crossed arms, the sound of your groan of annoyance music to his ears as you crumple your test paper in your fist.
"This isn't over, Tsukki. I studied all night for this!"
"Don't call me that." He lifts his head to scowl at you as you haughtily spin on your heel, determination in your steps and a gloomy cloud over your head over the loss as he calls after you. "Not my fault you're obsessed with me."
You do a 360, pouting all the while as Tsukishima eyes you evenly, amusement twinkling momentarily in his eyes as he watches you grow flustered.
"I am not! Don't get it twisted, Tsukki- the only thing I'm obsessed with beating your sorry ass!" You crumple up your test paper further, fuming as you leave it on his desk in a childish manner.
"Why is my ass sorry when you're the one who lost?"
Yamaguchi watches on with a sigh, Tsukishima watching you storm off with a little bit more than amusement in his eyes before turning to his childhood friend.
"You feed into this way too much, Tsukki. Y/N is nothing but sweet, why do you bring out the worst in her?"
The tall blonde hums, his hand supporting his right cheek. "It's because she's just so fun to talk to."
Yamaguchi shivers at the cynical tone his childhood friend had taken on, wondering why this childish rivalry between the two of you had been stretched for as long as it was.
"We've known each other since we were kids, Tsukki. Y/N's parents used to joke about you guys marrying each other because you hated each other so bad."
"I don't hate her." Tsukishima's reply is immediate, moving to shift his headphones back onto his ears. "The brat knows I'd take care of her if it came down to it, so quit you're worrying, Yamaguchi."
Yamaguchi's expression shifts to one of surprise, but Tsukishima's already distracted, eyeing your crumpled up test before dropping into his bag.
Nothing wrong with taking a trophy, right?
A couple weeks later, you're holding your breath as your eyes scan the top 100 scores in the school during late-study hours, the halls nearly barren, willing your name to be above a certain blonde hair middle blocker before visibly wilting.
"Ah, look." You groan, the utterly amused voice you're not wishing to hear at this moment sounding in your ears as Tsukishima smirks down at you, finger prodding at the box marked Tsukishima Kei before pretending like he's looking for your name.
Not one, but two names down from his.
"Looks like someone didn't study-"
Tsukishima cuts himself off at the sight of your eyes filling up with frustrated tears, not expecting the sight before him to make his chest heavy.
You were always so dramatic.
"Tsukki, you win this time." You sniffle, wiping your eyes haughtily as he looks at the eye bags under your eyes, growing annoyed all of a sudden- even more iriate when he can't figure out why.
He knows this, but why is this effecting him so much?
"Oi." His voice is quiet with an agitated edge, putting a hand on your shoulder to lean you up against the wall. "Why are you so obsessed with this? You're so stupid- crying over something as meaningless as beating me."
Your cheeks puff up at his blatant remarks, his chest tingling before you take a deep breath before knocking your forehead against his, taking the blonde boy by surprise as he glares down at you, rubbing his nose.
"What the hell-"
"I just want to be your equal, you always treat me like I'm such childish brat." You tell him, mixed feelings in your throat as Tsukishima takes on a look of bewilderment. "Ever since we were kids-"
"So you just want my attention, is that it?" Tsukishima's smirking now, the pain in his nose unnoticeable as your expression stiffens, a hint of realization in your eyes as the blonde's throat suddenly grows tight.
"What-"
"Little Y/N, do you have feelings for me?"
"You're not that much older-!"
"Don't avoid the question, brat." Tsukishima's even closer now, hand touching the wall by your waist as your eyes dart all over the hallway. "Is this what all this rivalry is about? Why you care so much about proving-"
"And what if I do?" Your voice quivers for a second, Tsukishima's lips shutting tight at your words before frustrated tears grow in your eyes again. As if realizing what you said, your eyes grow wide with embarrassment- shoving him away before taking off down the hall.
The tall blonde stands there for a second, soaking in the last few minutes before touching the back of his neck, the tips of his ears reddening before sighing deeply.
He rolls his eyes before smirking a little, your confused expression flashing in his mind once more as he wonders what will become of your one-sided rivalry.
Fuck a trophy. He wants to see you make that face again.
Oikawa Tooru
"Tooru, you wanna fight me so bad."
"Just because I want to doesn't mean I will, Y/N-chan. You'll probably lose."
Iwaizumi barks out a laugh as your glare evenly matches Oikawa Tooru's, lightning flashing between the two of you as the brunette crosses his arms with a frown. He almost thinks it's fate- the two of you ending up in the same class seated next to each other with Oikawa by the window.
"The fact that you said probably instead of definitely means we both know Y/N would win in a fight."
"Stay out of this, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa doesn't break eye contact with you, growing more irriated at the sweet smile that overtakes your lips.
"Tooru, I'll start telling people your hair isn't natural in color~" You start doodling on your notes nonchalantly, amused at the popular boy's growth in irritation.
"You wouldn't dare." Oikawa pales at the obvious lie, knowing your effect- how your words would send ripples through the school by the end of the day.
That's right, ever since you transferred schools and gained popularity as the most sought-out girl at Aoba Joshai and had made a passing comment (you didn't really think about it) about how you had no idea who Oikawa Tooru was and didn't really care- the school's popular setter has had it out for you.
Iwaizumi had a huge kick out of it though, satisfied seeing his friend being put in place by the one girl he couldn't really have. You grin cheekily, batting your eyelashes innocently as Oikawa meets it with a pouty stare.
"Why do you care so much of what I think of you?"
"I don't."
"Then piss off." You close your eyes with sugar-laced words, causing Iwaizumi to turn around with a shaking back.
"Iwa-chan, stop laughing!" Oikawa whines, turning his attention back to you with a haughty remark to discover you had stood up and skipped off towards the exit of the classroom.
"She's got me. I'm her fan- I see the hype."
"Iwa-chan, you're supposed to be on my side!"
"Y/N didn't know who you were- big whoop." Matsukawa yawns, leaning back in his seat from in front of Iwaizumi. "Not everyone cares about volleyball."
"And she was new." Hanamaki adds, shrugging his shoulders at the look of betrayal his brunette-friend had sent him. "I'm just saying- maybe your anger is misplaced?"
"Oikawa has a crush~"
"Mattsun- I almost threw up, please." Oikawa sighs, spinning around in his seat with a newfound exhaustion. He looks out the window, eyebrow twitching when he sees you bowed deep in apology to some poor student who was obviously amidst confession. His defined chin touches his palm in thought as anger swirls in his stomach.
How he despises you so.
You were so annoyingly pretty. It was ticking him off, how you spoke so nicely to his three provoking friends yet would barely muster up a smile at him unless it was sarcastic. Oikawa observed as you messily brushed your hair back with your hands to focus on your work, growing even more annoyed when he discovered how much you cared about school.
It was all because he didn't like you, that's why he paid so much attention.
..right?
He's sipping from a can of orange juice, having ducked away from his fanclub to turn a corner of the school no one really frequents when he sees you again later that week.
"Y/N- you always act like you're too good for anybody."
The tall brunette stops at the corner, peering around it while remaining out of sight.
"Maybe I just don't like guys who pressure girls into dating them." You don't miss a beat- but Oikawa hears it, the tinge at the edge of your voice.
Fear.
Some nobody who Oikawa doesn't even know the name of clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrist roughly as you stare down at his strong clasp on you.
"Let me go, you fucking loser." You're pissed off now, smiling your signature grin- the one with no real sweetness behind it. You were afraid to have followed this dangerous guy to an empty part of the school- thinking one of your fellow students would never do this sort of thing.
You were so wrong. His grip tightens as you try to fling his hand off in frustration.
"Pretty Y/N-chan. I'll ruin that face of yours and beat that attitude-"
"Someone isn't taking rejection very well."
You blink in wild surprise as your back touches Oikawa's chest abruptly, his strong grip on the student's wrist as he yanks him off. You don't see him, but you don't have to turn around to know that Oikawa was pissed.
"Get your pretty boy toy out of here, slut." You wince at the insult slightly when the guy doesn't even look at Oikawa, still glaring down at you before Oikawa tugs you gently behind him, towering over the absolute nobody who dared to put a hand on you.
"You shitty coward." You look up at Oikawa's broad back and shoulders, anxiety draining out of your system as Oikawa keeps a firm grip on your hand. He squeezes your hand once, and you get the message.
You're okay.
"Getting physical with girls now, are we? Someone doesn't want to have a future." Oikawa mocks, tilting his head to the side menancingly with a smug grin on his face. "You know what pisses me off the most? When people don't acknowledge my existence."
You've never seen this side of him before.
Suddenly, Oikawa side steps, both arms reaching out to keep you behind him as his grin widens. You cover your mouth at the sight of the student having failed to land a punch on the setter's jaw.
"You attacked me, right?" Oikawa hands you his bag, jaw clenching before easily grabbing the guy's collar, the height difference making him pathetically dangle slightly off the floor. You gasp when his eyes take on a darker edge, delivering a hook of his own to the side of his face, not seeming to hold much back as Oikawa momentarily wonders just what was fueling all this anger.
"What's going on here?! Oikawa Tooru, let him go!"
When he drops him to the floor on command, you're looking at him differently.
Maybe you should've cared a bit more about just who Oikawa Tooru was.
You're still staring when he ignores the teacher, your wrist in his hand as he inspects it, asking you something- but you don't hear him, feeling an unknown swirl in your stomach.
And why the hell he was making you feel something you've never felt before.
Kuroo Tetsurou
"Kuroo, get over it."
"Don't roll your pretty eyes at me, kitten."
You huff, not even bothering to look up at the raven-haired captain as you check another tally on your clipboard. Another successful receive for Lev.
"How do you do it?"
"Kuroo, we've been over this-"
"Blah blah blah."
The interruption ticks you off, prompting you to finally look up from your work as Kuroo Tetsurou smirks down at you easily.
"It's not my fault they like me so much."
"They can't like you more than me! I'm the captain!"
"Someone's insecure."
It's Kuroo's turn to grow irritated at your remark, and you smirk successfully as Kenma sighs at the sight of you two from across the court. Yamamoto sweat drops, bouncing a volleyball off the wall as you and Kuroo begin bickering. You were annoyed as the taller captain grinned easily down at you.
"Why does Kuroo-san hate Y/N so much?"
"No idea. She makes me cookies when I listen well during practice!" Lev adds brightly. "If anything, Kuroo's the villain."
"Nah." Kenma doesn't look up from his game, thankful you're keeping his childhood friend occupied so he can't make him practice. "Kuroo doesn't hate her."
The surrounding members still, eyeing the short boy weirdly as the volume of you two bickering rises in the background.
"He definitely bothers her because it's fun." Kenma flicks his joystick, suddenly immersed in the level as it grows more interesting. "I wouldn't be surprised if he likes her."
Kenma's just speaking his mind at this point, but his fellow teammates don't believe him as Kuroo flicks your forehead, breaking off in a run as you chase him out of the gym in irritation.
"Yeah. Sure."
--
"Okay everyone," you begin, fiddling with your papers as the volleyball team sit in a circle with their knees tucked into their chest, hanging on to your every word as you try not to smile at how well-behaved they were. "Nekomata-sensei is out today, and he left instructions-"
"We'll be practicing in 3-on-3's."
You hold back a groan as Kuroo cuts you off, standing up easily as the tension between the two of you rises. He cocks his head to the side like what? with a growing smirk on his handsome features, causing your irritation to grow further. To annoy you on the sidelines of practice was one thing, but to disrupt you in front of the team is another.
"Anyways, like I was saying-"
"Shouldn't the captain know what's best for his team?"
Oh you hated being cut off.
You meet him with an even stare, trying not to let your temper get the best out of you.
"Kuroo-"
"Call me Tetsurou, Y/N-chan."
Kenma sighs when the lead of your mechanical pencil breaks against the clipboard, knowing Kuroo was pushing limits he hadn't before.
"Alright, Tetsurou." Your voice is venomous, shoving the clipboard with their coach's instructions into Kuroo's hands with an aggression you were having trouble controlling. You were so mad you began to see your vision get blurry, suddenly exhausted from the captain's antics and why he wouldn't leave you alone.
"You lead practice then." Kuroo's easy smirk grows into a worried stare at the sight, watching you storm off before he can get another word out.
"Boo, you made our manager cry."
"This is why you'll die alone."
"Y/N for president!"
But Kuroo isn't listening to the obvious slander from his teammates, putting the clipboard down before jogging off after you, Kenma rolling his eyes to unzip his gym bag for his switch.
"He flirts like a little school boy."
The raven-haired third year catches you in the halls, frustrated with yourself as your back touches the shoe lockers behind you. You didn't mean to overreact. It was something about him that made you so-
"I'm sorry, Y/N."
"Don't apologize." You grumble, looking straight on ahead before glancing upwards. Kuroo awkwardly takes a seat next to you, the sound of after-school activities filling the air in your silence.
"Do you hate me or something?"
Kuroo blinks once, guilt filling his chest at the ideas in your head before hanging his head with a heavy sigh. It seems he took his antics a bit too far.
"Y/N, you're just fun to tease." He drops the nickname, and you smile a bit knowing he's serious. "I don't mean to make you upset. The team loves you, and I..."
He trails off, causing you to cock an eyebrow. Kuroo looks away quickly, clearing his throat before looking back at you-
to see you genuinely smiling at him, his chest suddenly tight.
"That's a relief. You're too much sometimes, but I can't say I don't enjoy our conversations. I didn't mean to over-react-" You cut yourself off, suddenly worried as you raise a hand to his forehead. "Wow, you're suddenly flushed. Are you sick, Tetsurou?"
He grows a shade darker when your sweet voice calls his first name, seeming to short-circuit in front of you as question marks seem to appear by your face.
Meanwhile, the team shushes each other as they peer around the corner of the hallway, Yamamoto and Lev's mouth agape as a certain gamer merely shrugs.
"Told you so."
"Nobody likes a know-it-all, Kenma."
Atsumu Miya
"'Samu, tell me I'm better than her."
"I'm not lyin' to ya', twin or not."
Almost immediately, the blonde setter glares at his own flesh and blood, Osamu offering a slight smirk in response at his brother's irritation. Atsumu sinks lower in his seat, pouting as Suna rolls his eyes to the right of him.
"Can't believe I'm spending my precious free time to watch more volleyball."
Atsumu isn't listening to his friend, silently focused at the way you controlled the court, triumphant grin on your face as you score the winning point to take the first set. In fact, you had scored over half the points, the other team's blockers barely standing a chance. He had to come see it. All the buzz around school can't have been for nothing.
Y/N L/N. Volleyball prodigy that seemed to have come out of thin air.
Osamu whistles lowly. "Y/N's kinda like you."
"Don't insult me, 'Samu." But Atsumu knows he doesn't mean it. Suna glances at his friend once, sipping his drink casually as Atsumu gets a glint in his eye, fire seeming to erupt in the back around him.
"Oho, Atsumu's got a rival." Suna isn't too interested, merely observing his surroundings as Osamu coughs back a chuckle.
"Shuddup." Atsumu mumbles, eyes meeting yours as you look up at the stands to see just who was burning holes into your head. He shakes his head with a smirk on his lips when you cockily blow a kiss in his direction.
"Y/N...that's Atsumu Miya, you do know he goes to our school, right?"
"Oh...shit." You back down, suddenly embarrassed as you look away, Atsumu's eyes spinning with amusement and eagerness to one-up you, the cheers of the stadium mocking in his ears.
So low in behold, you try not to let the surprise etch onto your features when Atsumu is pointing a finger at you, having escaped the boy's gym to crash your practice when after-school activities come around.
"You." You blink, utterly confused as your teammates squeal in excitement at his presence. "Yer' practicin' with me, got that?"
Your jaw slackens at the audacity, wondering if he wanted to practice or if he wanted to prove something. Atsumu knew he had the right idea about you when you take a step forward, tilting your head in challenge.
"Think you can keep up?"
--
"Oi, stop harassing Y/N at the girl's gym and practice with your team." Aran puts emphasis on his words as Osamu snickers from behind him, watching his twin get scolded as Kita sighs.
"She is very good at what she does." The captain nods. "But that doesn't mean our paths have to cross with the girls'- in fact, they never should."
"Then let her play here." Atsumu doesn't care if he doesn't make any sense. "Y/N runs circles around her team anyways- hell, she's pullin' the whole team on her back."
The Inarizaki team resist the urge to roll their eyes at their setter's blatant slander. Osamu is amused, tying up the net as he attempts to tame his twin.
"She runs circles 'round you, that's for sure."
Suna stifles a laugh as Atsumu feels it again. Competition. He loved the feeling of it- the feeling that things were finally getting interesting.
He's walking towards the girl's gym again to drag you out to play with his team so he can play against you, when something he hears makes him pause in his step.
"I just don't understand what Atsumu-kun sees in her!" It's a high pitched whine, one that causes his eyes to darken.
"Right? It's not like Y/N is pretty or anything like that."
"She's good at volleyball- so what? It's not like she'd be anywhere without her team."
A tap on his shoulder is what breaks him out of his eavesdropping, turning slowly to see you standing there with a sad smile, grip tightening on the bag filled with drinks- you had went to get drinks for the entire team, while they boldly slandered you behind your back.
Your voice is hushed, but tinged with a bit of hurt as you shrug.
"It's just the way of the game."
"Like hell it is." Atsumu growls, swinging open the door as you gape at the action. Before you can react, Atsumu's laugh is resounding through the gym as you peek out from behind his back.
"Oh my god, aren't you three bench warmers? Yer' the ones talkin' shit?" He can't hold back his laughter as you audibly sigh from behind him.
"A-Atsumu-"
"Oi." The blonde isn't laughing anymore, eyes on the edge of menacing as he cracks his neck, eyes darkening. "Squeal all you want, just hope and pray I'm not there to listen to it."
"Y/N-senpai, we're so sorry!" You blanch at the three girls who were now bowing profusely in front of you before assuring them it's fine, tugging on Atsumu's arm with an eyeroll.
"We need to talk."
"You know, you are pretty." Atsumu grumbles as you tug him along. "I don't know why they-"
"I can fight my own battles, 'Tsumu." You huff at the boy in front of you, considering him both your rival and your friend. "It's just misplaced jealousy- don't make it worse between my teammates and I. I would've said something- come on, do you know me?"
Atsumu stands there for a second, soaking in your words as a slow realization comes onto him. This whole time, he's been treating you like a rival, a thing, something to propel him further and sharpen his skills-
not realizing he had slowly grown to care about you a little more than a rival maybe should. He had moved without thinking, the thoughtless words not meant for his ears pissing him off way more than it would've any other person.
But this was you. You always walked along your bicycle when he insisted on walking you home, making him listen to your music as you trained before eventually making playlists for him when he told you how much he liked it. You trained with him for as long as he wanted, even going to the public gym together when you trained with your respective teams.
Atsumu is still staring at you, seeming to process something as you laugh a little at his expression as the sun begins to set behind your figure.
"I'm not mad at you. Come on, I'll bring you back."
"Quit treatin' me like a stray." Atsumu mumbles, but he's unfocused, burning holes into the back of your head as you tug him along, smiling back at him.
"You have a bad habit of staring at me, you know?"
Oh shit.
"Well, you did call me pretty and all." You tease, winking once as you wave at his team in the distance, waiting by the practice gym to continue the practice as his prolonged absence ended up affecting the entire team.
Atsumu ducks his head as his twin smirks at the sight, Atsumu's face on fire as his eyes lock on to where you're hand is touching his arm.
He's so fucked.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu anime#haikyuu kuroo#hq scenarios#hq fanfic#hq fluff#hq#haikyuu tsukishima#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima kei#haikyuu tsukki#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa torū#oikawa toru#oikawa#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#hq oikawa#oikawa fluff#haikyuu kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou#hq kuroo#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo testuro#haikyuu atsumu
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Growing Pains | Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: When fans begin commenting about your future plans, Oscar begins to worry that your long-term relationship is preventing you from truly experiencing life.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Self-sacrificing Oscar haha. Childhood sweethearts
Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.
2023 season
Less baby-fever, more baby panic haha. I'm so sorry if these aren't as baby-centered as the others. I've been trying to make them a little different.
Main Masterlist
next.
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YourUserName just posted



liked by alexandrasaintmleux, danielricciardo and others
YourUserName i love weekends off with you <3
978 comments
oscarpiastri you didn’t post the one of me with my face in the water? that is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me
→ YourUserName only because your ass was in the air and i’m the only one allowed to see that
→ oscarpiastri oh
→ landonorris @/oscarpiastri well, now you’ve told the internet that it exists, we need to see it
→ user1 lando is one of us
danielricciardo i’m still your favourite australian though, right?
→ YourUserName no. i’m my own favourite australian
→ oscarpiastri you tell ‘em, sweetheart
→ User2 SWEETHEART!!!
User3 i know they’re only young but when can we expect a wedding
→ User4 they’ve been together for long enough. they’re practically already married at this point
→ User5 their wedding would be so cute. can you imagine all the f1 appearances we would get?
→ User6 mark webber in a tux 🤤
mclaren our favourite young couple
→ landonorris hey!
→ mclaren you and daniel don’t count anymore
→ danielricciardo hey!
User7 papaya wedding when?
oscarpiastri just posted



liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and others
oscarpiastri my favourite girl 💕
2,664 comments
YourUserName don’t let suzie hear you say that. she’ll be distraught
→ oscarpaistri maybe you should drive her more and she’ll love me less
→ YourUserName whoa, i thought this was an appreciation post for me, why are you throwing shade
→ landonorris why would she drive her own car when she has you to do it for her?
→ YourUserName exactly!
→ User9 wait, suzie is a car? i was hoping they had a pet or something we didn’t know about
User10 the disrespect to have lando’s # on her back but be stood in front of oscar’s garage
logansargeant yet i suggest she support driver #2 and i had holes poked in all my juice boxes
→ oscarpiastri you can never prove that was me
→ YourUserName i have video footage
landonorris everyone can relax, she’s wearing the shirt because she lost a bet. oscar was a good sport about it
→ YourUserName i got soooo many dirty looks that day. the fans did not like me
→ oscarpiastri i still think you’re beautiful. not as beautiful with MY number splashed only our back but
→ YourUserName you know 81 is my favourite number
→ YourUserName (and sometimes 16)
→ charles_leclerc forza ferrari
User11 the fact that they fell in love during the most awkward years of a person’s life and have continued to love each other when they got hot
→ User12 they saw the potential in each other
User13 the fact that he’s loved you since you were 14 and continues to love you more each day 🥹
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YourUserName just posted



liked by racerbia, alex_albon and others
YourUserName i’m so proud of you, osc. another podium in a long-line of many. thank you for sharing your joy and success with me. 🧡🧡
when i befriended the nerdy 12 year old who wouldn’t stop talking about engines, i never imagined that you would be dragging me around the world. don’t get me wrong, i always believed you would make it this far. i just thought i would’ve managed to break free from you before then 😂 however, i’m so glad i didn’t because you are my favouritest guy in the whole world, and seeing you on that podium made me cry more than watching the supernatural series finale
1,220 comments
YourUserName oh, and well done to lando on P3, i guess
→ landonorris you guess???
User1 time for another round of: is he looking at lando or y/n in the 3rd pic?
→ landonorris it was y/n this time :(
→ YourUserName you get loads of pics of him looking at you like this, let me have my moment
oscarpiastri thank you for coming with me around the world and supporting me no matter what. you’ve been one of my biggest supporters these past 8 years and i don’t think i could’ve done it without you by my side. i love you so much, even if i come second to dean winchester 🧡🤍
→ User2 P2 in your relationship as well
→ oscarpiastri only because y/n is p1
→ YourUserName stop making me love you more and more each day. i might explodeeeee
User3 my parents. i need them to adopt me because they’re just so cute
User4 drenched in champagne is a good look for piastri
thisisnotyn the pirelli cap needs to stay on during sex
→ User5 is this y/n’s secret account
landonorris this is so cute. excuse me whilst i puke
maxverstappen1 a delight to share the podium with your boyfriend for the 2nd time
→ User6 y/n’s boyfriend and y/n’s boyfriend’s boyfriend on the podium with max 2x in a row
→ YourUserName omg max verstappen commented on my post! you’re like my favourite driver ever
→ oscarpiastri you agreed not to mention this in public
→ charles_leclerc @/YourUserName i thought it was me
→ landonorris i thought it was me
→ fernandoalo_official jokes on all of you, she told me it was me
→ aussiegrit you're all wrong. it's me
User7 if you guys are after a third, i’m free?
→ User8 how could you say this to the cutest couple on the grid
→ User9!because y/n has said worse and is more unhinged than we think but oscar’s pr manager has gotten to her recently
User10 i’m gonna have to agree with @/OscarPastryyy just because they’ve been together forever doesn’t change the fact that they’re still young
User11 yeah they’ve been together for a while but that doesn’t mean that having children is their only option. they’re still technically children themselves
NicolePiastri he doesn’t know how to do his own washing. trust me, he’s not ready for children. Y/N on the other hand, has been keeping that boy alive since they were 12
→ User12 nobody humbles an f1 racer more than mama piastri
User13 @/CHICKEN!! is so real for that. max is only 4 years older than them and yet everyone talks about him, kelly and P being a family and when are him and kelly getting married, but y/n and oscar have been together for longer than kelly has been a mother so…
User14 i think people only focus on their age and forget about their experience. i went to school with them and they still act just as infatuated with each other now as they did when they were 14.
→ User15 but they’ve also only been with each other. perhaps they should try dating other people before committing to the rest of their lives








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YourUserName just posted



liked by aussiegrit, logansargeant and others
YourUserName quando a Roma 🇮🇹❤️ tagged: YourBFF, YourBFF2
1,009 comments
YourBFF i told you that pic of you by the fountain would look amazing
→ YourBFF2 i think if we pumped another cocktail in her, she’d have gone swimming in it
→ YourUserName stop making me sound like a sloppy drunk
→ YourBFF you were sloppy anyway
→ YourUserName bitch
→ YourBFF2 it’s part of being in your 20s. welcome!
→ YourUserName not funny.
User1 guys, oscar hasn’t commented. he always comments on posts with her in, even if they’re posted by friends/family
mclaren orange drinks to support your favourite f1 team this weekend?
→ YourUserName you know it. papaya pride!
→ YourBFF2 she actually said that to herself when she took the pic. you’ve indoctrinated her
lilymhe cute post but you’re coming to sichuan with me next
→ YourUserName just name a date and time, and i’m yours
→ alex_albon what is it with you and stealing f1 drivers’ partners
→ YourUserName i think that just means i have the most rizz
User2 you mean to tell me that she’s in rome the weekend that oscar is all the way in america? so, she’s not going to be at the race 🤔
→ User3 she doesn’t have to go to every one
→ User4 i know but she’s said loads of times that she tries to make all of them
User5 all of you calling y/n a bad girlfriend but are we forgetting that they’ve already been together for 8 years, and have known each for 10. they’re at the point where they don’t have to be glued to the hip all the time
→ User6 literally. like they’ve been together longer than some of the married couples on the grid
→ User7 yeah but it’s just unlike them. how do they go from being infatuated with each other to distancing within 2 weeks without there being some cause? it wasn’t a natural progression
logansargeant i can’t believe you didn’t bring me back a gift.. you said you would
→ YourUserName i also said i’d wear a williams t-shirt one race but we all know that ain’t happening
→ User8 is this logan shooting his shot?
alexandrasaintmleux i knew that would dress would look good on you. you look radiant
→ YourUserName my favourite shopping partner
→ charles_leclerc my girl has good taste
→ YourUserName not if she’s dating you
→ charles_leclerc you have hurted my feelings
User9 y/n hasn’t been able to terrorise oscar on social media and it’s showing because sis has been dragging the grid in their comments haha
→ User10 she’s so funny. i bet they’re fearful anytime her name pops up in their notifs
User11 i love how we all sound insane to other people but us oscy/n stans know we’re right because they’ve been a constant media presence since his f2 days
User13 i hate to say it but what if we’re the reason they broke up? we couldn't stop talking about them getting married and having kids lately, and what if it freaked them out…
User14 i can’t imagine oscar piastri without y/n y/l/n. i only really follow f1, not f2 but he’s always been oscar and y/n since he started. it would be akin to not seeing him in mclaren
mclaren just posted



liked by YourUserName, ln4 and others
mclaren get you a teammate who looks at you the way these two look at each other #unitedstatesgp
1,559 comments
oscarpiastri 🧡
racerbia team papaya! 🧡
User1 poor oscar, such a shame he had to retire after minimal contact
User2 not to be that person but it was defo because y/n wasn’t there. she’s his good luck charm
YourUserName well done lando!
User3 anyone else getting more and more confused by oscar and y/n’s relationship purely because of their media presence
→ User3 for info, she posts that she’s in rome the weekend he is in america, proving that she isn't attending the race. oscar likes the post but doesn’t comment despite y/n looking beautiful in that post (1/4)
→ User3 then she’s not spotted in the paddock, further proving that she’s defo not at the race. plus, whenever oscar was asked about her during interviews, lando quickly changed the topic for him (2/4)
→ User3 then oscar crashes and y/n doesn’t post ANYTHING about the race but when he dnf’d in bahrain and belgium, she put numerous posts on her story about how proud of him she was (3/4)
→ User3 and now she congratulates lando on the mclaren post but doesn’t even mention her long-term boyfriend?? (4/4)
→ User4 you have too much time on your hands and are reading too much into things. i’m sure she’s facetimed him to see how he’s doing and told him she’s proud of him
User5 okay but if a man looked at me the way oscar and lando look at each other, i would marry him on the spot
danielricciardo @ oscarpiastri first your girlfriend tries stealing my seat, and now you’re stealing my lando. you two are giving aussie's a bad name
→ landonorris you’re the only for me, boo
→ danielricciardo don’t lie. the pictures show everything
User6 i miss when we couldn't tell if he was looking at lando or y/n like that. now we know it’s lando because y/n isn’t in the paddock

As always, requests are welcome!
Baby Fever Angst Masterlist
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thinking about nikto that is more a glorified guard dog than human, let alone your lover.
fem reader, animalistic language, mentions of past sex between reader and nikto, unwanted sexual remarks made about reader (nikto sorts them out dw), nikto is a FREAK
you're too nice for him. not soft, you couldn't be with him. he would get over-excited and greedy. you were firm, but never too strict. you had to give your mutt some leniency, he'd never dreamed being spoilt by a beauty like you. with kindness and patience you coaxed him from being brash and hypervigilant to pathetically obedient.
some small part of nikto is confused at the change, how could a thing like him be doted on by someone like you? his mind just as warped and scarred as the stretched skin that covered his body. compared to you he almost felt ashamed of believing he was deserving of your love. almost. but he didn't question your compassion, for once the world had given him something good.
instead of returning to his bare kennel of a flat, he returned home to you. the glow of your presence had seeped in to your now shared home, an array of your trinkets as well as belongings scattered about. as he opened the front door his pale eyes latched onto your supple body, surrounded by halo of light from the bulb behind. gliding down the hallway your features changed to furrowed brows and slightly parted dewy lips as you took note of his bloody knuckles and ragged breathing. meeting his eyes through your lashes you brought a manicured hand up to pet the side of his masked face. he lent in to it, rubbing the harsh material of his mask against your smooth hand. "nikto, are you okay?" you asked, melodic voice soothing the never-ending raucous in his head. you didn't ask what happened, it was typically for a good cause, even if he got a little too enthusiastic. you just wanted to make sure your loyal dog wasn't too injured. besides, a little roughing up can be quite beneficial.
nikto could deal with comment and looks towards himself. he had always had to deal with them. from his hazy childhood memories, to his return from torture. but no one could whisper your name without a bark of threat from nikto. more often than not he followed through. you were closely guarded in niktos heart at all times. his devotion to you was not a secret, and neither was your existence to those close enough to him. instead, your name was the holiest prayer a sorry man could utter. your existence proof that there was sanctuary. so, if anyone acted maliciously towards you they better pray your forgiveness extends to them. because niktos bite was worse than his bark.
thats what happened earlier today. some dolts commented on your salacious body when you dropped off some documents nikto left at home. it made his blood run hot. their unrestrained remarks over your full curves and cherubic face pervaded his ears. he hated it. hated hearing them jest about the fat of your ass. that was for him to sink his fangs in to. or when they fantasised of using your plush tits for their own pleasure. they were for nikto to nuzzle at and suckle on. he almost gutted them right there when they innocently complimented your gossamer hair to your face. that was for nikto to snatch when he mounted you, desperate to show you he was good enough to have you like that. back arched while stray strands of hair fell across your shoulder blades, muscles quivering with pleasure. the plumpness of your ass bounced and rippled off his narrow hips, his mushroom tip kissing your cervix with more aggression each time. chanting your name with a growl he pawed the fat of your hips, stretchmarks littered with bites and bruises. nikto fucked you with fervour, he was all yours. it made it that much more unfortunate when you pulled him aside just before you left base, asking if he heard the comments too.
so when he came home half an hour later than usual with bloody knuckles you didnt ask what he did. you could count on your dog to protect you, he was more than happy to serve you. it gave his life a further meaning from death and war. you gave him a meaning. he replied to your concerned question with a husky grunt. gesturing him to follow, you turned and walked down the hall with the soft pad of his footsteps just behind.
"sit." you said, nodding towards the kitchen table "i put our dinner in the oven to stay warm, we'll eat after i've patched up your hands". he gave a short nod. he thought you were so selfless, choosing to look after him first rather than yourself. as you picked up the first aid kit off the counter that was always in easy reach, nikto let out a soft growl that was only reserved for you.
"moya lyubov, missed you"
thanks for reading!! likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, i hope you enjoyed it :)) i am more than happy to give this apart 2 if your heart so desires
this is my first time writing anything resembling smut so i hope it isn't too cringe LOLL felt like i had a bloody brain aneurysm when i wrote it for like the fifth time
#nikto smut#call of duty#call of duty smut#whose a good doggy?? LOLL#nikto cod#nikto#cod nikto#mwii nikto#nikto x reader#call of duty nikto#nikto x you#nikto x y/n#cod x reader#nikto x reader smut
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October 17 - Degradation/Dumbification

pairing: Step-Mother!Wanda x sub!Reader
summary: Your step-mother wants her little girl.
content warnings: slight intox
word count: 1.4k+
masterlist
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

“Sweetheart,” your stepmother calls, her voice echoing through the nearly-empty house. “Come here, I need your help.”
You sigh, contemplating ignoring her as your show plays on the TV. You set aside your popcorn reluctantly, stealing one last handful before pausing the show and slowly ambling toward the stairs.
Mentally cursing your dad out for choosing to get a divorce, you climb the steps. Honestly, he couldn’t have chosen a worse time. You’d just arrived home for winter break, your mind mentally exhausted from a long semester, and he’d announced his plans to divorce your stepmother with two suitcases already in hand.
So yeah, great start to the month that was supposed to be relaxing. You had already started looking at tickets back to your college state, but fuck they were expensive around the holiday season.
“Darling?” Comes your stepmother's voice again, and you let out an impatient noise as you will your feet to move slightly faster.
“I’m on my way, chill out, Wanda,” you call out, annoyance coloring your tone. Honestly, it’s like she had a spidey-sense for when you were finally relaxing or something. All you wanted was to watch your show until your brain rotted out of your ears, but you resigned yourself to the fact that you would most likely be helping Wanda with tasks for most of the break.
Arriving at her bedroom door, you lean against the doorframe and cross your arms. Wanda is rummaging through a box, her back turned toward you. As you look her over, you feel yourself flush at the sight of her.
Listen, you weren’t ashamed to admit that your stepmother was attractive. You weren’t immune to the allure of her soft, red hair or the way her breasts pushed against you when she hugged you. And fuck, her vanilla perfume drove you absolutely insane.
There was one time that you’d snuck into her room just to spray her perfume on your pillow. You’d fucked yourself that night, burying your nose in your pillow while thrusting a dildo deep inside you until you’d cum with a whimper of her name.
Shaking those thoughts away, you pray that your blush isn’t noticeable as you watch Wanda. She seems to be looking for something, bending over the bed as she removes items from the box. You have a pretty good view of her ass from this angle, and you allow yourself to look for about five seconds before you clear your throat.
“Oh, sweetheart I didn’t see you there,” Wanda says, jumping at the sound. She turns to face you, her green eyes locked on your face as she awkwardly holds up a stuffed animal.
You recognize it immediately. It was one of your childhood stuffed animals, a brown teddy bear that you’d named Fuzzy.
“Where,” you step forward, gently taking Fuzzy in your hands as you step into Wanda’s space. “Where did you find him?”
Looking up, you blink. You hadn’t realized how close you were to Wanda, her green eyes soft as she looked at you. Her hand was still outstretched, gently petting the top of Fuzzy’s head, her fingers brushing lightly against yours.
“I was going through some of the boxes in the basement,” Wanda’s eyes are sad for a moment, and you remember that your dad had lived in this house too with boxes of his own. She seems to shake herself out of it, smiling at you. “I found this one with your name on it and… I don’t know. I wanted to connect with you somehow.”
You immediately feel bad, knowing that you haven’t exactly been the best or easiest person to be around for the past week. You’d gotten so caught up in your own emotions surrounding the divorce and your dad’s apparent disappearance that you’d forgotten that Wanda was also hurting.
“Well,” you begin, somewhat awkwardly. “This is a good start.”
Wanda smiles brightly at that, her hand moving from the stuffed animal to your shoulder. She rubs it for a moment, the action causing warmth to flood through your body as you fight a blush.
“I’ll make us some dinner,” Wanda says, her hand removing itself. You hope you’re not imagining the reluctance in the action. “How do you feel about red wine?”
—
You feel… fuzzy. Your head feels like it's been stuffed with warm cotton, your hands petting your stuffed teddy bear softly while you lean against something warm. No, someone warm.
Turning your head, you feel your eyebrows rise in surprise when you find Wanda’s green eyes mere inches from yours. You mentally shrug, leaning closer into her until you’re practically cuddling her.
You feel your senses returning, numb and warm, but coherent. You’re on the couch, your arms wrapped around your stuffed animal as you lay practically on top of Wanda. Her arms are gentle around your waist, her warm breaths hitting your cheek as you inhale her vanilla perfume.
“You’re adorable like this,” she whispers, and you feel yourself sobering up at her words.
God, one glass of wine and all of a sudden you can’t think? Then again, you could never truly think properly around Wanda. Something about her just made you feel safe and cozy and… small?
You don’t even attempt to speak, simply smiling at her words and nuzzling into her neck. You can feel a flush spreading down your cheeks, and in the back of your mind you wonder if you should feel ashamed for cuddling up to your stepmother while she was in the midst of a divorce with your dad.
Wanda’s lips press against the top of your head, and you immediately feel your guilt dissipate. Fuck your dad, this felt amazing. You’d been wanting Wanda’s hands on yours for as long as you’ve known her, and who were you to complain now that she was finally… caressing you… and…
Hands move against your waist, moving down further and cupping your ass slightly before moving back up. You almost think you’ve imagined it, until you register the fast beating of Wanda’s heart. You can hear it in her chest, and you feel your own breaths begin to quicken as arousal makes its way through your body.
Taking a risk, you softly kiss her neck, feeling her breath hitch underneath your lips. You continue, letting the feeling of her soft skin under your lips and the gentle caress of her hands lull you into a fuzzy headspace.
“Oh, my darling little girl,” Wanda murmurs, and you feel yourself slipping farther and farther and…
You stir, shaking your head in confusion. What was happening?
Wanda rests her hand on the back of your neck, moving your head down towards her chest. You can see her nipple straining through her shirt, and lick your lips before pausing.
“Go on, baby. Suck Mommy’s nipples,” Wanda murmurs, and you feel a wave of fuzziness overtake you. You were so… warm and…
“My brainless little girl…” Wanda simpers, her voice low and velvety. “Go on, turn your brain off for Mommy, let her take care of you.”
Ah, yes, that sounded perfect.
Her hand pushes your head into her chest, and you feel your brain go blank as you mindlessly begin to suck on her nipple. It's soothing, your tongue swirling around her stiff peak while her hands move down and begin to move your hips.
“My dumb little toy, so pliant for me,” she whispers, moving your hips to grind against her thigh.
You feel good. So… fucking… good. Everything is warm and you can feel a pleasant ache between your legs and you’re humping your stepmother’s leg and her breast is in your mouth. Your hand moves up to fondle her over breast, your fingers rolling over her hard nipple as she groans.
“That’s right… you just want to be Mommy’s dumb little girl, don’t you?” Wanda asks, and you nod eagerly. “You want to be Mommy’s little toy, here for me to play with whenever I want, and however I want, right?”
You nod again, your arousal building at the thought. God, that would be perfect. You wanted to stay like this forever.
Wanda chuckles, and you realize that you mumbled your thoughts out loud. Her hand moves up to stroke your hair, lulling you deeper into that headspace.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be my dumb little toy for a very long time.”
It sounds like a promise, and you nod. Yes. That sounded perfect. That’s all you wanted. Wanda smiled at your thoughts, pushing slightly harder with her magic, which had gone unnoticed by you. She felt your mind bend, and gave one last final push.
Your mind broke completely, pliant and moldable. Perfect, and completely Wanda’s.
#Char's Kinktober 2024#charsgaythoughts#wanda maximoff#mommy wanda#wanda maximoff smut#dom!wanda#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda fanfic#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#top!wanda#marvel#mcu#wanda marvel#wanda mcu#wanda maximommy#wlw#wlw smut#lesbian#writing#bottom reader#x reader#lgbtq
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i fucking love ur writing sm mamas!
anyway. Toji making reader pregnant cause toji found out that reader loves kids <33333
It’s fine if you don’t want to. Anyway love you and your writing darling . 🎐
No, noonie, stop bc like, are you in my brain or smthn!!?? I was thinking about this exact prompt for a long while, and I see this appear in my inbox??! Well, well, *cracks knuckles* you've just given me the perfect opportunity mwahahahaha!!! This has been in my drafts for a minute, but I'm glad it's finally done! And omg tysm for loving me and my stuff, honey!! Hope I make ya proud with this one :') ilysm ♡
Also, I'm mixing in another request into this one since it's a pretty small request (reader sucking on Toji's Adam's apple as he pounds you), plus it makes things easier for me in terms of writing out stuff. Hope that's okay with the other requester; if not, my apologies!ヾ(。﹏。)ノ゙And btw, tysm for 1.6k followers, y'all!! Love every single one of you~☆
Cw: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - mating press - Daddy kink - fingering (f! receiving) - breeding - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up!!) - reader skips the pill - fluff at the end bc why not - pregnancy (test at the end) - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', good girl, mama, sweetie) - oral fixation/reader sucking on Toji's adam's apple - the reader has stretch marks on their body bc I said so - praise - overstimulation - clitoral play (sucking & swiping). Wc: 3.4k

Toji, by all means, was not a man deserving of children.
His terrible childhood and upbringing have molded him into an emotionless and reserved person who only feels as though the only person he needs to look out for and care for is himself.
So when the premise of children came to him, he wouldn't give it the time of day. That is until he ends up having youths of his own. Even then, he would do the bare minimum of taking care of them — food, clothes, shelter, and taking or picking them up from school. And to top it off, his job wasn't befitting of a father — a hitman going mission to mission for money that he used to spend for himself, now going to the needs of his kids.
Toji knew Tsumiki and Megumi were better off without a father like him. Fatherhood (or children in general, for that matter) is no easy task, and it's clearly one he's not good at.
But all that changed when you came into the picture.
Never had he seen his kids warm up to someone, an outsider, so quick. Even when he mentioned his children to you at the beginning of your relationship, you didn't falter and happily wished to meet them. And the day you finally did was the day everything became a lot brighter for the entire Fushiguro family.
Not only did Tsumiki and Megumi come to trust you with every visit, but their adoration for you grew tenfold the more you were involved in their lives. And all Toji could do was watch you do your magic, whether it be watching animal documentaries with Megumi, making flower crowns with Tsumiki, or playing with them and the other kids at the nearby park.
And the most impressive part about it all was you teaching and including him in how he could get more involved with his youngsters. Now, his kids are closer to him than ever, going so far as Megumi clapping back on his father's snarky comments and Tsumiki having the man play tea parties (to his dismay, but whatever to makes his little girl happy).
It wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't had you around. You were just such a breath of fresh air to him and any child that came your way. Attentive and caring to the young ones as if you were a natural at mimicking the maternal role. He knew you'd be a great mother to any child, especially your own.
It was that thought alone that made Toji think about you having children. Or better yet, having a child with him. Making you pregnant with his baby. Making you his.
Toji walks down the stairs after putting his son and daughter to bed, his heavy footsteps beating the wooden floor beneath him with every step. He then enters the kitchen area, where he sees you washing the dishes from today's dinner after putting the food in the fridge.
When you notice his presence, you look up and offer a charming smile in his direction, your face illuminated beautifully by the ceiling kitchen lights that the image almost blinds him.
"Hey there." Your voice is always sweet to his ears, still smiling even when you turn back to washing dishes. "The kids?"
"Just finished puttin' 'em to bed," your eyes stay at the sink, but you can feel his heavy footsteps come from beside you. "But they said I suck at tellin' bedtime stories."
Your giggle is heard through the noise of dishes clacking on the rack. "Well, maybe you're not using cartoon voices like I told you to. They like it."
"Yeah, no, I'm not doin' that shit." You chuckle some more at his complaint, and he grabs a dry cloth to dry up dishes from the rack.
It's quiet between you, but Toji will sneak glances at you while you work through the dirty plates. His thoughts from before return, and all he can think about is you with a swollen belly.
The mere idea of having you bear his child fogs his brain. Witnessing your body change and expand with the growth of your little one within you, it's too much for his mind to indulge in.
The more he thinks about it, the crazier and hornier his mind goes. Unable to function suitably, Toji sighs heavily through his nose and places the dish and dry cloth on the countertop.
You notice him make his way behind you, his hands traveling down to your hips as his chin rests atop your head. But you pay him no mind and continue with your task. "Hey, darlin'."
The nickname has you hum to him, eyes focused on the soapy sponge and plate in your hands while your ears wait for him to continue. "Yes, Toji?"
He doesn't reply instantly, roaming his large palms up and down your waist and hips instead. "Ya know I love the hell outta you, right?" He goes on when you nod. "Always takin' care of me and lovin' me. But that love also goes to my lil squirts." A smile creeps in on his scarred lips as you giggle at his way of referring to his children. "It's just crazy to me how you're able to have 'em follow y'r every step, yet I can't even get a hug or smile before they leave for school unless I remind them."
"Well, maybe if their father didn't always bully and call them 'squirts' and 'brats' all day, they would show you some love."
"Shut up," Toji flicks water from the faucet onto your face, forcing you to laugh more from your teasing. His heart swoons from your laughter, having you sway side to side with his body behind you. "But I mean it; you're so good with kids. Makes me wonder how come you never had y'r own yet."
"I just love kids." It was a simple answer. "Plus, I never really had time to care for a child. Got work and stuff, you know. And besides, I practically treat Tsumiki and Megumi like my kids."
"Mmm," he replies aimlessly.
"However," you resume while placing a wet bowl on the rack. "I wouldn't mind having a little one of my own. Now that I'm pretty comfortable with where I'm at in life, I'd love to have a little baby to share it with."
Toji lets your words sink in before saying anything. Now that he sees where you stand on the topic, finally, he can voice his opinion.
"Y/n..." he treads carefully with the words he's about to say. "I've been thinkin' about somethin'."
"Thinking about what?" You can't deny the uneasy atmosphere with Toji's mysteriousness, yet you listen as you turn off the sink faucet.
The two of you stop swaying your bodies with each other. "How 'bout we have a baby?"
Your body goes rigid at the question, and breathing subsides as your mind goes rampant with reflections too fast to comprehend. He wants a child—another child!? With me??!
"Like, right now?" The only question that escaped your lips, your voice hushed to a whisper. No one else is here in the space but you two, although the talk you're having right now feels virtually forbidden to the tongue.
"Doesn't have to be right now," Toji moves his head to your shoulder, his hushed, gruff voice clear to your ears. "But as long as it's with you, one more kid won't hurt, right?"
And your breath hitches when a hand finds its way to the surface of your stomach, his fingers lightly teasing with the flesh of your abdomen. He places his lips on your neck, and you bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. "Mmmm, why do you want more?" You still press him with questions despite almost dissolving into his kisses. "You already have a gorgeous girl—"
"I wan' have your girl." He murmurs softly to your ear before lightly biting the lobe, and a moan slips past you.
"A-And...a beautiful boy..."
"I want your boy."
"Toji, please," you surprise the older man by turning your body to face him fully, eyes surveying his. "This is no joke! Just because I don't have my own kid doesn't mean—"
You're silenced when Toji brings a hand to your cheek, cupping a side of your face. "I'm not jokin', sweetie. I know I'm not the best dad in the world — hell, I'm pretty lousy at it. But you," he leans forward while you instinctively go backward, hitting the sink behind you. "You're basically a mother to mine and a real damn good one, too. And since ya said things are good now, why don't I make you a parent fr' real."
"Toji—"
"Like I said: it doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. But as long as it's you," his thumb brushes your cheek as he looks deep into your eyes. "Let me give ya a baby, angel."
All you can do is look into his emerald orbs that examine you for a response. The silence between you two is accompanied by the ticking sounds of the clock on the kitchen wall. And after a few seconds, you sigh and place a hand on the big one caressing your cheek.
"If I say yes," your reply has his brows lifted. "Will you give me foot massages and a bowl of ramen at three in the morning and not be a bitch about it when I ask?"
Toji gives you a smile, his scarred lip tugged upwards. And you return one to him as he kisses your forehead.
"Works fr' me."
This is how the two of you end up in the bedroom; the ceiling lights toned down to a low shade, clothes discarded on the cold wooden floor, and the sound of lips smacking fills the silence.
"Mmmm, Daddy..." You whimper through the kisses, your hands find purchase on his strong shoulders, and you yelp when he bites your lip. His lips gradually embark downwards to your neck clavicle. Kisses and light suck to your nipples make you hum in pleasure, and a gasp prompts out when his teeth graze the bud of your soft mounds.
A hand sneaks between your legs and nestles in between the lips of your southern entrance, his big fingers enter inside with the use of the soapy fluid of your cunt, and you wail from the contact while he sucks on your breast.
"Such a good girl, angel." He lets go of your nipple to coax you, his mouth sucking your skin as his mouth continues its journey south. More licks on your body feel hot, kisses placed on every stretch mark he comes across. And he stops when he passes your tummy, coming up to see the view of his digits pushing to and fro inside your leaking chasm. "My fingers feelin' good, mama?"
"Yesssss," you hiss, eyes sewn shut to concentrate on the pleasurable sensation in your slit. He chuckles at your delighted expression before he leans down to suck on your clit, earning a shriek from your puffy lips. "Stoooop, I-I'm too sensitive—Ahhaaaannn!!"
He releases your tender bud from his mouth after placing a chaste kiss on it. "Sorry, baby, gotta have you nice and wet fr' me." He sucks and laps around on your wetness for a few more minutes before withdrawing his mouth from your leaky chasm, substituting his tongue with his big fingers to swipe on your clitoris. Broken sobs seep out from you. "Cummin' on my fingers and tongue, that's my girl."
The throbbing commotion between your legs has your ears ringing and your head pulsing. You've already come three times for thirty minutes. He's such a greedy man, but whatever it takes for you to prep for him.
Speaking of which, Toji props your legs onto his shoulders while aligning his cock to your folds, lathering the girth with your juices. Your heart beats irregularly with anticipation on the rise, a position you're all too familiar with. Toji sees you gawking at his glans kissing your folds, and he sneers salaciously. "Ready, sweetie?"
You give him a smile even through entering your lustful haze. "Skipped the pill and everything, Daddy." And with a kiss on your cheek, Toji wastes no time and pushes his length into you with every inhale you take. And the both of you moan when the cockhead slides right into your vulva. Every inch of his dick descends into you, making you full of his size, and whimpers fail to be suppressed as he scrapes your velvety walls deliciously.
After letting you adapt to him, his hips start with a slow rhythm for you to properly situate yourself with the mating press. However, with how you're gripping around him, it doesn't take long for him to quicken his pace. Soft wails soon become stifled squeals with the bite of your lips from the growing cadence, and your eyes begin to water when the underside of his shaft grazes your inner walls.
But when the tip of his cock finally touches your cervix, a choked scream sneaks past your restraint. And Toji chortles. "Mmmmm, that's what I wanna hear." He grinds his pelvis deep into your cunt, resulting in forced squeaks from your tongue.
"Ahhhnnn! Daddy, please—Oh, Jesus," It hurts to think when Toji accurately jabs your delicate cervix, tears streaming down your pretty cheeks. "Oh, God, it's too much, too mu—Oooohh!!"
"I know, darlin', I know." He comes down to your face, yet his pace does not falter. His speed increases and becomes harsher by the second, and your head pounds hard with every rut. You nibble on his neck, sucking on his Adam's apple as he drills his dick into you. "Nnnngh, so tight on me, mama. Gonna make me go crazy."
As if he wasn't going crazier already with the erratic rut of his hips. Driving his cock deep inside and the sound of his balls smacking your folds is all you can hear. Your face is now entirely hot, matching the tingling sensation of skin slapped together between your legs. You dare to peek down to see the union of your sexes, Toji's member now harboring a white ring near the base. Strings of your slick and his spit keep you two connected during this moment, and more incoherent shrieks are pulled from your throat.
"Nnnaaaaa, ahhhaaaa!!! D-Daddy, please!!" While there's uncertainty about whether your pleas will be heard, you still express yourself to him. "It's coming, it's coming! I'm gonna cum, gonna cummmm!! Nnnmmph!!" And when he comes down to you with his complete weight caging you in, the pressure of his body has you submit to him completely.
"Yeah, wanna cum on Daddy's dick." He says with his condescending, guttural tone that almost makes you melt onto the satin sheets beneath you. "G' ahead, mama—Hmmph! Make a nice mess while I finish here..." His strokes become ever intenser than before; his length brushes your inner walls, and continuous pokes to your cervix prompt your orgasm to climb faster. And you soon fall into a wave of pure ecstasy, your cunt clamping around him desperately while your body trembles.
And Toji is forced to fall into a release of his own when the walls of your slit contract around him, spilling into you with the flex of his abdomen. His sweaty body is on top of yours, and your breathing matches his as you two experience each crescendo.
Heavy exhales sync as you two calm down within your intimate embrace. Your mind slowly returns from its foggy state with the calm atmosphere soothing your body, and your quivers now subsided while the older man lays kisses and sucks on your neck. But it comes to a halt when a sudden yelp comes from your swollen lips because he thrusts into you again, even with your vulva being extremely sensitive.
He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, and it's not to your surprise that he has a smirk on that dumb, handsome face of his. His lips curled to where his teeth peek from under his scar. "Ya know I gotta fuck you more than once, right, sweetie? Make sure you're all filled up 'n all."
You suck your teeth with furrowed brows, but a smile comes up with breathless giggles. "I'm telling you, Mr. Fushiguro, you're most definitely treating me to daily foot massages when I get pregnant."
"Whatever you say," he shuts your threats with a kiss on your soft lips. "My pretty darlin'..."
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
Toji twiddles with something in his hand while you lay on his chest in the shared bedroom. The kids were taking a nap after coming from school, leaving the two of you to enjoy the leisure of each other's company.
But today was a different day compared to any other. Because even if you two are looking at the television with the old rom-com displayed, neither of you is actually watching. Too busy distracted with the smiles plastered on your faces to care for what's on the screen. The only thing corrupting your minds is a matter that has you two in glee after a week of anticipation and mutual work.
The man peers at his hand to look at the object between Toji's fingers. Nothing but a pink and white stick — a pregnancy test. And at the center of the device conveyed two red lines, the signature implication that you were indeed with a child. His child.
"Hey, Toji," the call of his name has him look down at you, still facing the television despite your attention not wholly on it. "What do you think they are?"
"Hmm?" It takes a few seconds for it to click until he notices your hand brushing around your belly. He chuckles. "I'm hopin' for a girl. Wan' 'em to look and act like you."
You hum aimlessly at his answer before you berate him with more of your thoughts. "What if it's a boy? I think it'd be cute to have another mini-you running around the house."
"Nah, one mini-me is enough, and he already talks back to me like he's a teen." You giggle at the light sour face he shows and his complaints about Megumi. "Besides, I don't want another me. I'm already a lousy dad, and I didn't have the best childhood. I wouldn't want you to deal with a child that's exactly like me..."
Silence ensues with the answer; it's the only response you deem appropriate. That was the case until you say what was next on your mind.
"Toji, I'm sure your upbringing wasn't the best because people weren't there for you when you needed them. And although that's shaped you into the man I love, even I wouldn't want you to go through all that for a second time." You can feel the weight of his green eyes on you while you speak, though you don't turn to face him. "Nevertheless, times are different. You have me to love and care for you now—you and your beautiful children. You might not be the best dad in the world, but you've done a great job taking care of them."
"Thanks to you." He interrupts you, and you laugh.
"Yes, thanks to me. And because you have me, this little one won't be going through what you went through. I promise you, you're not alone in this. Because I'm pretty scared as this is my first pregnancy. But that's okay since I have you to take care of me. I'll be there to help you, and you'll be there to help me. As long as that's true, we'll do just fine."
Taken aback by your response, the older man turns to the pregnancy test still in his hand. The more he looks at the device, the more he ponders what you said. And a small smile creeps up on him, coming to a decision himself. At this point, it doesn't matter what the sex of the child will be to him. What warms his heart is that you promise to be by his side, helping him watch your little one — his child — his family grow as the days and years pass.
"Now," your voice brings him back to the present, whipping his head back to you. "I can't say the same if we end up with twins. Because you'll just have to deal with one while I have the other."
Toji puts the pregnancy test on the nightstand and goes for your nose to pinch it. "Fuckin' kid, who told you were funny, huh?" Your laughter only fuels him to mess with you more, but that's okay. He's smiling at your silliness, and that's all you want right now.
Because, even if they're not here yet, no child should have a father who doesn't know how to smile.
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk thirsts#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji smut#toji x reader#toji fic#toji x y/n#dilf toji#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji smut
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✍️Introduction and Masterlist✍️
About me: Hi! I'm Kacie, I'm 21, and I use she/her/any pronouns. I'm from the UK but I'm currently an English Teacher in South Korea (if you want to know more I'm totally open to conversations about it!) and this is my side blog, so I follow and respond to comments from @studykac
Writing: At this point in time. I only write for Spencer Reid. I will pass on any requests that focus on other characters because I don't currently write for them. A lot of my work is also NSFW. If you are under the age of 18, do NOT interact with any of my posts that are tagged #maturereiding - please block this tag!! When my requests are open you can request through the Ask box, or through DMs, but please keep in mind I do have a full time job, so I will do my best to get things out quickly. You can find my recommendations in the tag #reiderrecommends!
Other interests: kpop, especially Seventeen, SHINee, NCT and BTS, Criminal Minds (obv), NCIS, reading any genre of books (here's a link for my GoodReads page), Percy Jackson, languages (learning Korean currently!), English Literature, Jane Austen etc.
Requests are: CLOSED - find my request guidelines here!
Writing:
Spencer Reid x Reader NSFW
Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress // 3.8k
Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification
Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2 // 2.4K
Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink
Margaritas and Mistakes // Part 1 // Part 2
Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.
Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, heavy petting, hickeys, making out, mentions of arousal etc. (part one)
Show You What Devotion Is ❤️🔥
Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to overpower your ability to function properly.
Warnings: So many, check the post for details.
More Than Words 🫶 // 8k
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, you're forced to ask your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Mostly fluff, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
The Us That Could've Been 💔 // 5.7k
Summary: They say to get over a man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't sure why the idea of you doing just that makes him feel so bad.
Warnings: angst, unprotected sex, creampie, spoilers for season 8, mentions of Maeve, Spencer is emotionally illiterate etc.
Unhappy Holidays 👻🦃🎄🎆// 5k
Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).
Flirting with the FBI // 7.1k
Summary: To catch a killer, you have to first out him on the FBI's radar. By hacking their systems and flirting with Spencer Reid, of course.
Warnings: Rough sex, Dom Spencer, bimbofication, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, use of slut and good girl, more in the fic warnings.
Spencer Reid x Reader SFW
The Lightbulb Moment // 4.8k
Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.
Just Hanging Out // 3k
Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.
(Not smut but highly suggestive, read at your own discretion).
Isn't She Pretty, Daddy? // 2k
Summary: You're a teacher, and you have to call in one of your students' parents to talk about their recent troubling behaviour. It's more embarrassing than you thought when Spencer Reid shows up.
Series
That's What You Get // complete 💕
Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise that one of the sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs Reid.
Genres: Fluff, smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters, happy ending.
Playlist: Me and You in 2024
Summary: One song fic a week throughout 2024!
Genres: Various, check individual chapters for specific warnings!♡
Answered Requests
(NSFW) Request inspired by Taylor Swift's False God 🙏// 2.2k
(NSFW) Request for a soft!Dom Spencer with cockwarming and breeding kink 💕 // 2k words
(NSFW) Request for Reader introducing vanilla!Spencer to a BDSM lifestyle ✨// 0.7k words
(SFW) Request for Reader kidnapped by unsub and saved by Spencer 💕 // 2.2k
(SFW) Request for pregnant Reader and Spencer who is an absolute fool for her 🌸 // 1.2k
(SFW) Request for shamelessly flirting with an oblivious Spencer 😊// 2k
(NSFW) Request for post-Maeve Spencer who uses sex as a coping mechanism 🫡//4.6k
(NSFW) Request for alt!sub!Reader meeting the team for the first time (and they totally think she's the Dom) 🤭// 1.5k
(NSFW) Request for CNC office sex with Spencer 🚫// 1k
(SFW) Request for Spencer finding out you knew Emily was alive 😿// 0.7k
(SFW) Request for training session with Spencer 🤼♀️// 1.8k
(SFW) Request for I Can See You inspired angst 🥺// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer making the reader beg for it ❤️🔥// 1.6k
(NSFW) Request for CNC with soft!Dom Spencer - shower sex 💦// 1.3k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Professor Reid doesn't know he's distracting the class 👓// 3k
(NSFW) Request for Sub!Spencer begging reader to dominate him 🫣// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for Genophobic virgin!Reader ❤️🩹// 5k
(NSFW) Request for Professor Spencer with a jealous gf 🐺//2k
(SFW) Request for reader helping Spencer through recovery 🤕// 1k
(NSFW) Request for possessive Spencer reacting to your little black dress 💃// 2.5k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Undercover with an "excited" Spencer 🕵♂️// 3.6k
(SFW) Request for playing video games with Spencer 🎮// 1k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - munch! Spencer is obsessed with you 👅// 2k
(SFW) Request for Spencer babying an oblivious reader 👶// 2k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - sharing a cold bed with Frenemy Spencer 🛌// 3.5k
(NSFW) Request for reader being distracted while Spencer is reading 📚// 1k
(NSFW) Request for Pillow fort sex with Spencer ⛺️// 2k
(NSFW) Request for car confession and oral with Spencer 🚗// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for dancing the night away with Spencer 💃// 2.5k
(NSFW) Request for the morning after Spencer loses his V-Card 😶// 0.7k
(NSFW) Request for reader confessing to Spencer when he's in his anthrax shower 🚿// 0.7k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer finding readers unusual sensitive area 🤝// 3.5k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer and Hotch!Reader secret relationship 🤐// 6k
(SFW) Request for reader being jealous of Spencer and Lila 🤽♀️// 2.1k
(NSFW) Request for gun kink 🔫//3k
(SFW) Request for Shy! Spencer and Flirty!Reader 🫣 // 2.3k
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#reiderrecommends#spencer reid fanfic#Masterlist#criminal minds fanfiction
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⋆.˚ ☁︎ TEENAGE DREAM ☁︎︎ ⋆.˚
—sometimes at eighteen, young love is anything but a teenage dream.
genres・fluff // young love // awkward confessions // meet cutes. summary・love is embarrassing, especially when you're in high school. from the cozy coffee shop to the local campus, eight boys stumble through the awkward world of crushes—trying, and failing to confess to you. taglist ・@its-stayville-forever, @aris078, @emilywjinnie
a/n・I haven't been on here for a little while, but I wanted to do something silly and fun to celebrate 500 amazing followers! All of these ideas are still in the works, so the plots may change, but I'm having so much fun writing them. I get hit with a pang of nostalgia every once in a while, remembering my very first fanfiction, haha. If you want to be tagged in any of these, just comment down below or send me an ask—and always remember to support your content creators; it means the world to us!!
☁︎︎ COFFEE CUP ☁︎︎
BANG CHAN loved being a barista; not only did he get exceptional employee discounts but it was peaceful—he handed people their coffee, they said thank you and walked away—nobody ever bothered him. that is, until one night, ten minutes before closing, you walked in with your bright smile and garrulous chit-chat. It only took you one sentence to have him hooked, eagerly waiting for your next late-night visit. what is bang chan going to do when he finally works up the nerve to write his number on the sleeve of your coffee cup, only for you to toss it away without ever seeing it? (coming to your shelves December 10th)
☁︎︎ ROSE ☁︎︎
LEE KNOW was famous for being the star quarterback turned heartless bachelor—or so everybody thought. nobody could have guessed that the reason minho chased every woman away was because, hidden 60 miles from home, there was the animal shelter where he volunteered. the reason he drove an hour every day to nurture abused pets? you. what is minho going to do when, no matter how many roses he gives you, you just can’t take the hint? (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ MOTORCYCLE ☁︎︎
︎SEO CHANGBIN. there’s nothing he loves more than his motorcycle—well, that’s not entirely true. he probably loves you more, but his motorcycle is certainly a close second. with prom looming, changbin finally gathers enough courage to ask out his long-time crush and childhood best friend. what is changbin going to do when, halfway through, he chickens out—and, in a panic, ends up ramming his motorcycle into your mailbox while trying to back out of your driveway? (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ MY MUSE ☁︎︎
HWANG HYUNJIN has been in love with you for about as long as he’s understood the word love; stuck in the seat beside you since elementary school, hyunjin grew to adore the soft curves of your features. one day, in the middle of art class, he's struck with the urge to draw you. overcome with the fear of never getting the chance to tell you how he feels, hyunjin stuffs the picture in your locker. what is hyunjin going to do when he overhears you talking to your friends about the drawing—and you mention his enemy's name, and not his? (coming to your shelves soon...)︎︎
☁︎︎ LYRIC BOOK ☁
HAN JISUNG is dedicated to securing the top spot in his songwriting class, and nothing is going to stand in his way. that was, until three years ago, when you walked through the door, head held high, speaking of your goals as if they were already part of the present. jisung never thought there would be any competition—until there was. now, he doesn’t know whether to write songs about his overwhelming hatred or his overwhelming ardor. what is jisung going to do when, one day, you’re paired with him for a project, and you discover all the love songs he’s written about you? (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ SUGAR AND SPICE ☁︎︎
LEE FELIX, the school's sunshine, the universe’s fallen star—nothing was going to get him down. well, except for you. no matter how hard he tries, felix just can’t form a sentence around you; his tongue twisting into sailor’s knots whenever you look his way. what is felix going to do when he tries to confess through a cake, baked fresh in the culinary class you share, but trips over his shoelaces and smears the cake all over your shirt instead? (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ BASEBALL ☁
KIM SEUNGMIN worked with a focus nobody else seemed to reciprocate, constantly practicing to be the best pitcher this world has ever seen. his teammates respected him, his coach loved him, and the school only ever saw his poised manners—not the awkward teenager he really was. that is, until he meets you—equally shy and almost as painfully awkward, studying on the bleachers every day after school. there's something about your concentration, the self- assured direction you set for yourself, that makes him want you even more. what is he going to do when, one day after practice, he scrawls his number on a ball and chucks it toward you? and for once, the ball doesn’t go where he aimed. instead of landing in your lap, he nails you right in the forehead. (coming to your shelves soon...)
☁︎︎ THE BOOK WAS BETTER ☁︎︎
YANG JEONGIN lived in the library. on the days when he wasn’t cramming for an exam, he was relaxing with a good book. the library had always been peaceful for him—a sanctuary that students rarely ever touched. that is, until one random morning, he sees you walk in—captain of the cheerleading squad, with your tiny skirt and sparkly eyelids, jeongin almost expects you to laugh at him and his pathetic seating arrangement—all alone. but then, checking to see if anyone’s watching, you pull a book from the shelf, and begin to read it. that's how it started—now, every day during lunch, you come and read your book, safe in the shadows, creating a home nobody else knew about. what is he going to do when he starts falling for you, through the notes he slips into your book after you leave? And what will happen when the wrong girl comes in and tries to take the book? (coming to your shelves soon...)
a special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who helped me flesh out all these ideas. I couldn't do any of this without you!! I hope you like these stories <33
#stray kids x reader#stray kids#skz x reader#skz#felix x reader#lee felix x reader#bangchan x reader#hyunjin x reader#stray kids x y/n#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#han jisung x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids oneshot#stray kids blurb#— 🍪 writings
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... and a bit more (sjy)
EXTRA FOR "A HUNDRED SUNSETS" (read it here)
pairing: jake x afab!reader
synopsis: It's been years since you and Jake started dating, now dealing with adult life, which became an easy thing as you both shared it together, full of love and support. Yet, years in a relationship can make you wonder if your loved one still sees you with the same intensity. So you decided to reassure Jake that no matter how many years you stay with him, your love and desire will remain as passionate as ever.
my's note: i’m so obsessed with these characters AND SO ARE YALL WTFFF!! I’M THRILLED WITH ALL THE SUPPORT I’VE RECEIVED FOR THIS WORK i did NOT expect this to get this many likes and reblogs and comments and stuff 😭😭😭😭 sooooo here’s a lil gift as a THANK YOU!!! thank y’all for every word of appreciation towards my writing and my work. i really meant it!!! hope you enjoy this one as much as “a hundred sunsets” 💖
warnings: established relationship, jake is a bit insecure in this one, teacher jake (as a job! he’s not y/n’s teacher), pet names, reader blushing/turning red! smut w plot! (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) - oral sex (f. receiving), slight choking (j does to y/n CONSENSUAL. SHE ASKED. and please for god’s sake don’t do it if you don’t know how to do it properly), reader kinda suffocates jake (but he likes that lol), j. cums inside, unprotected sex (don’t do it !!), car sex (oral only!! f. receiving). lmk if i missed something!!
wc: 7.5k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire
Jake’s head was aching with the amount of highschoolers he was dealing with everyday.
Choosing that career path was a childhood dream come true; to be able to teach other people about what he loves the most – after you, of course – brought so much joy to his life, he was constantly on cloud nine. Having you by his side to celebrate every little achievement with him played a big part in that as well.
However, as with every other job, there were some days he wished to erase from his memory in order to forget not only how stressful it was, but how annoying some teenagers can be.
Jake knew he didn’t had to worry about your feelings for him in any way.
You showered him with love and affection in every single action of yours and that was pretty much enough. You would pack him lunch with cute little love notes, you would stay with him until late while he read his articles and prepared his classes, you would pick him up every now and then to get him to a date – even after years, you both still loved watching the sunset together, whispering love promises until nightfall, only to continuing saying them under the moonlight.
Your big smile and shining eyes greeting him whenever he got home acted like words unspoken, but just in case you made sure to say them constantly.
But sometimes there are things that some teenagers say that can really hurt your ego and hit you directly in your insecurities if you let them in. And the words he heard that day echoed through his mind the whole afternoon.
You were working on some work papers in the living room when you heard the front door unlocking. Quickly you stood up to greet Jake with a hug.
You never understood how you always managed to miss Jake even now, after you both started to live together, but at some point you just gave up trying to figure it out, accepting your fate of never getting enough of your amazing boyfriend.
“Oh, hey there, professor,” you welcomed him with a sweet smile, already cupping his face with your hands and placing a tender kiss on your favorite lips, the same plump, red and soft ones you always loved to feel on yours.
“Hey, babe.”
You tilted your head, confused. Although Jake reciprocated your kiss, the mood wasn’t right.
You never expected Jake to be bright and cheerful all the time, never, especially when coming home from such stressful work. Alongside that, his intense studying sessions in order to get better at his job and eventually become a university teacher helped him to get overwhelmed from time to time, so you respected the moments he vented out about his burdens, listening with all your heart and asking him if he wanted some advice or just to be heart.
Most times he just asked for a warm hug and a kiss, and of course, you under no circumstances would deny such a heartwarming request.
You knew it was the minimum, but you appreciated how Jake never discounted his stress on you. Actually he would be always saying you were his stress reliever, so you really weirded out with his actions today.
Not only was his demeanor quite off, kindly pulling you away without deepening the kiss to leave his bag and coat beside the door, but his face expressed something you read as concern and sadness.
You watched Jake walking quietly to your room without explaining a thing, so you followed him right away, heart hurting in worry.
“What’s with the frown, my love?” You asked softly when you both arrived at the room almost at the same time, you behind Jake, who was now starting to get undressed.
He said nothing as he took off his glasses to put on the nightstand and unbelted his dark blue trousers, sitting on the bed to unbutton the first buttons of his white dress shirt, not fully finishing any of his actions like he was in some internal dilemma preventing him from working properly.
Your concerned gaze followed his every move until you finally heard his voice. “Do you love me?”
Now was your time to frown as you approached him. “What’s this question, Jakey? Of course I love you,” you sat beside him and your hand almost instantly grabbed his to gently squeeze it, playing with his fingers.
He was glancing at a random spot on the floor while you tried to read his face.
“No, but like, do you still think I’m attractive? Do you really feel desire for me or do you fake it?”
You could see he was a bit embarrassed for asking that so you, again, reassured him with your words and actions. “I’m really confused right now, my love. Of course I do feel desire for you, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever met. And yeah, you are attractive as fuck, Jakey,” you lifted his chin with your fingers to face you. “What’s with all that? Tell me what happened, mhm?”
Jake locked his eyes on you for a second, already feeling a bit better meeting his favorite two orbs looking at him with so much love, warmth and reassurance. However, although he appreciated every genuine feeling from you, he wasn’t asking you for any of that at the moment.
He needed to know if you still saw him as an attractive guy, so he averted his gaze as he started to spill what was on his mind all day.
“Some random kid told me that you’d easily leave me for a hot guy if I don’t treat you right, and I don’t normally care about what some of them say because y’know, teenagers and their full of nonsense minds, but–” He sighed, pain starting to drip all through his words. “I– I know that you love me, and I love you too. But what if– What if I don’t pleasure you enough?” His eyes searched for yours again, eyes a bit red like he was about to cry. “What if you realize you can find some other person that can fulfill your fantasies and desires in a way I can’t?”
Jake let everything out all at once, every corrosive thinking that dwelled him throughout the day, knowing he was in a safe space, that you were his safe place. You got a bit surprised with the sudden rant, but listened with care and attention to know what to do whenever he stopped, but your head was already spinning with all the information he was giving you.
How could he think that? Jake was an incredible boyfriend, in a way that you worried to give him love enough to keep him close, because the thought of Jake leaving you frightened you too much.
You always felt like no action or words of yours could show him how much you loved and needed him around. To imagine he thinks a similar thing made your heart pound in pain.
“You’re hot and young and beautiful and so easy to love. Everytime I ask myself how I managed to bag a goddess like you. I can’t bear the idea of losing you, Y/N–”
You had to shut him up with a kiss, and then another, and another, until you felt him relaxing under your touch. You moved your body to sit on his lap, his hands looking for comfort on your hips right away. “You will never lose me, Jake,” you whispered, his warm breath brushing against your skin as you admired each feature of his pretty face. “I love you. I want you. Only you,” you pecked his lips again before continuing to speak with a small smile, your hands resting on his shoulders. “You’re everything I've ever wanted, you’re everything I need, my love,” and one more sweet kiss. “Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”
And then you finally kissed him properly, sighing when you felt his tongue searching for yours, touching you so intimately, so passionately, so full of love. Your hips were moving in little circles on his lap, already feeling yourself getting wet and his dick getting hard.
You thought about sharing your own insecurities keeping the same theme, but that was Jake’s moment of being loved, and you were willing to let him know in every breath, touch, kiss, word of yours how much you cherished him, how much you adored his presence, how much you treasured every single moment with him, and of course, how aroused Jake could make you feel just by being close.
You never spoke directly to him about that, but Jake was magnetic. Your eyes always searched for him, observing how his movements seemed meticulously calculated to leave you wanting more, all the time making you lose your mind doing the simplest things.
Seeing him walking around the house wearing nothing but loose gray sweatpants that showed the hem of his boxers with his study glasses and messy hair always made you squeeze your thighs together and swallow hard on your seat.
Same thing whenever he got ready for work in the morning, getting all dressed up in his dress shirt with coats/blazers or just a casual long-sleeve shirt, never forgetting his black specs – everytime you had to hold yourself from tossing him back in the bed to ride his face with that fucking glasses.
Or when he was focused on his studies, deep in thought with furrowed brows and lips pursed a bit, from time to time biting his tongue, making you worder how hard he could fuck you while looking at you like that.
And not to mention whenever you were in the car with Jake being the driver, his hands gripping on the wheel and his veiny arms popping out looking so unnecessary hot, to the point you almost had to ask him to pull over to fuck you deep with his slender pretty fingers.
You were so sure that your craving eyes shamelessly undressing him was noticeable, but now you got to know that maybe you should start to show off how he affected you more often in order to make Jake understand that his breathing near your ears alone could make you go wild.
You bit his bottom lip and pulled away while grabbing one of his hands from your back to lead it down to the hem of your shorts. “Feel that, Jakey?” You asked after forcing his hands to touch your clothed cunt, smirking. “Can you feel how wet I am just by kissing you, pretty boy?” Jake nodded dumbly while open-mouthed moaning on your lips just by feeling your already dampened panties, hooded eyes looking at you with nothing but passion and lust, his own dick growing hard in his pants. “That’s how much you affect me, my love.”
The whole atmosphere had switched and none of you complained, because the main reason for Jake's down feeling was the idea of losing you due him being unable to satisfy you, which you decided right away to tell and show him he was doing way more than you expected, and always so right.
Jake always surpassed your expectations. You were so fucking lucky.
“Let me love you, okay?” You quickly locked your lips one more time, addicted to his taste, before pushing him down to lay on his back on the sheets, hands leaving your warm, clothed pussy, to hold you still on top of him. “Let me show you how good you make me feel and how much I want you,” and your mouth searched for him again as if it never felt enough.
Every touch of your sensitive area on his bulge was making both of you groan between the messy kiss you were sharing, the taste of his tongue on yours working as a drug, making you wonder if you could stay like that forever.
Unwilling you parted away again, getting out of the bed to start to undress yourself as a little show for Jake. That night fate designed you to choose to wear his favorite black set of lingerie, so he was watching you with hungry eyes, devouring each curve of your body with his eyes, like you were his favorite meal – and just to add, he would watch you the same way even if you were wearing torn clothes. Jake was so in love and obsessed with you, anything about you made him feel insane.
You gave him a smirk before removing your panties and climbing on him again, loving the way his eyes were glazed on your chest, the bra of the lingerie set making it squished together and too pretty for him to handle. He bit his own lip as if he was holding himself, breath growing heavy, the dim light of your shared bedroom making it look even hotter, with his messy hair, glistening, red, swollen lips and eyes full of adoration and desire for you. Only for you.
“I need to eat you out,” he uttered in a hurry, almost sounding drunk when his hands touched your bare hips, caressing your warm skin and making you shiver. You smiled cheekily.
“Of course you do, pretty boy,” you planted a tender kiss on his nose, both of his cheeks, his chin and on his forehead, “That’s why I’ll be sitting on your pretty face right now,” and then a final kiss on his lips as you watched his eyes sparkle in joy and enthusiasm in anticipation, you couldn't hold a little laugh.
Jake had a not so little oral fixation, always finding a way of placing his lips on you, nibbing or sucking any part of your skin he was able to, your pussy being his favorite. And who were you to deny such things? You always let him use your body for his own satisfaction, because you knew how hard he could get just by the thought alone of eating you out, and there were many times he came untouched while doing it.
It was a win-win situation, with you hitting your best orgasms every single time, making your pretty noises just for him, dripping all over his tongue.
Jake’s heart fluttered with the view of you getting on your knees, hovering yourself while touching your dampened folds with your own fingers just to place your cunt directly on his mouth. He was in heaven, eyes instantly closing as he exhaled your scent, getting drunker and drunker on you.
You sat slowly on him, a little afraid of suffocating your cute boyfriend who now had his arms hugging your legs, pushing you down without a care in the world, like suffocating himself on you was everything he ever wanted.
Jake always began with a big, long lick, collecting all you arousal just to feel your taste and mix it with his own saliva, drawing out a moan from you, before starting to suck you with passion, almost like he was slowly making out with your pussy, the tip of his nose constantly rubbing your sensitive clit as he went faster, the ragged breath tickling your skin while he was focused on you.
Your hand searched for support on the headboard, the other unconsciously grabbing Jake’s hair just like you knew he loved, giving it a little pull once and while to show him how much pleasure he was giving you.
“You always make me feel so, so good, Jakey,” you said with a gasp, your body reacting out of lust, hips rolling back and forth trying to match Jake’s rhythm.
The whole visual underneath you showed a forbidden scene that only helped your arousal to increase; Jake’s sweaty hair was getting stuck on his forehead, eyes closed and arms holding you closer with his veiny hands squeezing your thighs, pushing you even more into his face. “And you look so fucking hot right now, Jaeyun. Shit.”
You threw your head back and rolled your eyes when he started to intercalate his movements to tongue-fucking you, lewd wet sounds now filling up the room. “Your mouth does wonders on me, you know that?” Your breath was heavy, your whole body on fire, the only thing coming across in your mind right now was to cum all over his face.
You wanted to make sure Jake understood how fantastic of a job he was doing, like ever, and how much you loved the way he guided you through your pleasure, giving you everything you needed. “You always eat me so good, my pretty boy–” You interrupted yourself with a loud whimper when he focused on your clit, sucking, flicking his tongue on it. “I’m close, Jaeyun– fuck. I’m really close,” you could feel your orgasm building up on your core, Jake also noticed how your body was reacting by you avidly riding on his face, legs tensioning a bit, you already caring less about suffocating him or whatever – he always told you to go hard on him, and loved every time you did.
Jake was so in heaven.
He himself started to moan on your cunt, intensifying his attention on your clit, his mumbles vibrating in your sensitive area.
“You’re my precious boy, isn’t that right?” You said with your voice weak and heard a little muffed ‘mhm’ as a response. “So make me cum, yeah, Jakey?”
To get you off was always Jake’s own pleasure, especially when he was using his mouth to do so. God, Jake loved to hear your pretty sounds, how you would moan his name so pleasing, your body trembling by pure lust, you losing yourself when you were close to your climax, overwhelmed by all his stimulus.
So Jake focused even more to make you to cum. At this point you were a whimpering mess, rushing over to achieve your orgasm so desperately that small tears started to form in the corner of your eyes and your hands tightened on Jake’s hair when you finally did, spilling your juices all over his mouth.
Jake maintained his tongue working on you, passionately collecting all of you, groaning with delight as he felt your taste melting on his tongue.
You tried to catch your breath for a bit before removing yourself from Jake’s face, hissing when you felt your thighs burning due your own work and the position you stood for so long. You flopped on the bed besides Jake to recover yourself, listening to him gasping for air as well, but with a satisfied grin adorning his glistened, attractive lips.
“You are insane,” you whispered, smiling before propping yourself on your elbow to give him a sweet kiss, opposite to all the sexual atmosphere that drifted around the room minutes ago, your hands searching for comfort on his neck, deepening the touch.
“Yes, for you,” Jake replied between the kiss, shifting a bit to be on his side so he could give you proper access to his mouth, and also to rub his fingers on the bare skin of your waist, pulling you closer. When he did that, you felt his hard bulge brushing against you and startled, parting away from him to give a questioning expression.
“Jaeyun,” you touched his still clothed and neglected cock.
“Ah–”
“Why didn’t you stop to at least remove your clothes?” You asked genuinely worried, already moving yourself to do what you just said. “This must be hurting so bad, my love,” you watched how his dick jumped out of his boxers when you took it off.
“It is…” He whispered, face contorted in pleasure and relief when your warm, soft hands started to pump his shaft. “But you’re always my priority, sugar,” he said with a smirk, looking down to watch you for a second.
You loved how Jake managed to make you smile and your heart flutter in moments like those, constantly ensuring that you felt loved before anything else.
You collected the precum leaking out of his tip with your fingers, to ease your movements as you accelerated a bit. Due to his sensitivity, he almost instantly opened his mouth with a loud moan and started to buck his hips into your touch, wanting more of it while whispering “P–Please...”
You kept giving the attention he needed, cupping his tip with your hand to move it in circles. Jake whimpered, voice cracking a little ‘fuck’. He was melting under your touch, so sensitive, his body slightly squirming beneath you, needing more of you.
Although you were enjoying the view and how reactive he was just by your hand alone, you wanted more of him, so you voiced it out in a serious tone “I really need you to fuck me,” as you moved away, leaving him missing your warmth around his dick so you could lay on your back on the bed.
Jake immediately understood the assignment, positioning himself over you, his necklace dangling near your face. You smirked as you pulled him closer so your mouth could meet his, but he broke the contact before you could do so.
“Let me just get rid of this shirt bef–”
“No!” You rushed to say, grabbing his arms to interrupt his attempt of removing his dress shirt, “Don’t, please,” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks burning by the shyness that hit on you, averting his curious gaze.
“Hm?” Jake lifted an eyebrow, puppy eyes trying to understand why you were reticent all of a sudden.
He decided to not undress himself fully as you asked to do so without questioning it much, leaning to kiss your neck, his soft lips already knowing every sweet spot of yours. His goal was to make you relaxed, reassuring you that whatever you said he would respect and listen with all the love he had for you.
“I have this fantasy…” You started to speak after a while, enjoying his light, still hot touches, now you being the one melting for him.
“Yeah?” He whispered, keeping sucking, biting and kissing your neck, jawline and collarbone area, shivers spreading all over your body. He was thrilled with the idea of you sharing more from that side of yours, knowing damn well how hard to say it out loud was for you. Jake would always give you all the time in the world, though.
You took advantage of his face being buried on your neck to keep talking with a slight lack of confidence. You were afraid of how Jake would react. “I–I always wanted you to– To fuck me wearing a dress shirt,” you stuttered a bit, but finally voiced out what have been on the back of your mind for a while, gulping nervously while your hands tried to find comfort on his hair, playing with it as a habit of tension.
You heard a little chuckle from Jake, which made you worry that he might find you a bit pathetic.
But it was Jake, after all. The one that managed to surprise – and most important, to respect – you every single time. “You’re so cute,” wasn’t what you expected to hear. Jake pulled away, gently holding your chin for you to face him. “Does my gorgeous girlfriend get turned on by me wearing a dress shirt?” The sultry tone and the charming grin decorating his lips made you blushing even harder, not to mention the fluttering excitement in your stomach. “Did I get it right, sugar?”
You saw Jake shirtless countless times, yet the view right now of his chest showing just enough because the first buttons being undone alongside his dangling silver necklace was driving you insane, breath growing heavy as you licked your lips, not saying anything.
Every reaction of you being catched by Jake’s sharp gaze. “I need your words, my love,” he whispered, teasingly brushing his lips on yours.
“Yes, Jakey,” you whispered back, trying to push your embarrassment away. “You look so hot on it.”
“There you go,” he smiled proudly at you, but also confident by your compliment.
He finally kissed you properly, sucking your bottom lip and then immediately deepening the touch by adding his tongue, messily kissing you just how you wanted.
One of his hands slowly found its way down your body, fingers brushing your folds before inserting two digits without a warning; due to your wetness he had no trouble in doing so. Your moan got lost into his mouth, your own fingers messing his hair even more, nails scratching his nape and scalp.
Jake’s lips traveled down to your neck while his hand continued its job on your entrance, in and out in a slow, painful pace. He kept going down with his kisses, stopping on your still clothed boobs.
“Can I remove these?” He asked, pointing to your bra and you nodded, breathing heavy as you helped him to undress you fully, missing his fingers inside you.
Jake would constantly ask permission before removing any piece of your clothes, and in particular, your bra. You once told him how much more comfortable you felt wearing a bra during sex, especially if you were riding him. At the same time, you were totally aware of his love for your whole body, so alongside that, you gave him the consentment to remove the piece whenever he felt like it. And every time he questioned if he could.
Jake straightened his back for a second just to appreciate your beauty.
He questioned how he got so lucky to have you like that, all naked just for him to touch, gorgeous body just for him to glorify, your face, in a perfect blend of love and lust, just for him to see. Everything. Just for him. How?
“Only you can have me like this, Jakey,” you spoke softly with an equally gentle smile, like you were reading his mind tripping over insecurities again – although you felt a bit shy under his intense gaze. “You’re the only one I love.”
He sighed. A lovesick type of sigh, the one he let out whenever he realized – once more – how much in love he was with you, the one that always came with a cute smile, the one with a devoted gaze.
Then he leaned down again, giving you a quick kiss before continuing his work, focusing his mouth now on your tits, gently swirling his tongue on your hardened nipples while sucking on it. You gasped, hands rushing to tangle your fingers on his silky hair. He gave the proper attention to both of your boobs, making you even more wet, before moving down to kiss the interior of your thighs.
“Please, Jaeyun– I wanna feel you inside of me, please.” You pleaded, already feeling impatient.
You heard him let out a soft laugh before trailing his lips all over your body, up to your lips, whispering with a sweet, yet alluring tone. “Your wish is my command, princess,” and he aligned his cock on your entrance, slowly entering you. He gave you little kisses all over your face, capturing all your expressions of pleasure and then said “I love you.”
Your lips curved with the tender, sudden confession, moaning when you felt him finally moving, your hooded eyes looking for Jake’s to whisper “I love you too, my love..”
And you also loved how Jake filled you up so good, so deep inside you, thrusting his hips in the pace he already knew both of you enjoyed.
Normally Jake would be willing to let you take control all over him, especially if you were using him to reach your own high – riding his face or his cock, coming all over his body, making a total mess. He loved that. But from time to time you would silently ask for him to take over, laying down on the bed and letting him be the one in charge of using your body. And he had to admit that he also loved that.
To watch your eyes rolling whenever he hit your g-spot, the little frown of delight mixed with your mouth open, chanting his name in between moans in such an endearing, alluring way without even realizing it, fully surrendered. He could cum just by watching it.
The room quickly was filled with groans and moans from you two, Jake intertwined your fingers together and lifted both your hands above your head, holding himself steady as he kept thrusting harder and faster into you, wet sounds mixing with your names being whispered by each other’s mouth, lost in pure ecstasy.
“Choke me,” you whined at some point, wanting more and more of that addicting feeling. “P-Please, choke me, Jakey,” you managed to move one of your hands still interlocked with his, positioning it on your neck, letting it go for him to do what you asked for, his movements slowing down a bit as he was trying to fully understand your request.
Jake’s eyes gleamed with a bit of shock and excitement. Wasn’t your first time asking him to choke you, but everytime he got somewhat surprised. He placed his hands around your neck, gently squeezing the spot he learned from you that is the right one. Jake was always very cautious with the act, observing your reactions and never taking more than a few seconds, doing just enough for you to feel the pleasure you wanted to. And you so did.
Your mouth fell open with a loud, choked moan when your air got stuck in your throat. The view of him with his white dress shirt holding you like that made your mind go dizzy for a brief moment. You gasped for air as soon as Jake released the tightness on your neck, feeling him kissing you right after but you couldn’t kiss him back, your orgasm near the edge already making you too messy and out of your mind, so he went down to bite and kiss your neck.
Jake’s hot breath on your skin, he sounding so gorgeous, lascivious groaning your name, together with all the overwhelmness your body was going through and his dick deep into your pussy the way you loved, was enough for your second orgasm to hit.
Without a proper warning you screamed Jake’s name while your walls clenched around his cock, he himself moaning with your tight cunt making it difficult to move. Your hand squeezed his when you hit your climax, and it took just a few more pumps until you felt Jake’s warm liquid filling you up along a groan. You hissed.
Jake fell on your body, panting hard and burying his face on your neck. You chuckled when your mind got back to yourself, remembering what all of that was about. “Does this answer your questions?” You asked, out of breath.
“What?” Jake whispered, lips tickling your skin when he did so.
“That I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”
Jake hummed against your skin, now understanding what you meant. You felt him smiling right after.
“I think I need a few more reminders, just in case.”
So on a random morning, while staying loyal to your job of making Jake fully aware of your deep need for him and how profoundly he affected you, you watched him getting ready for work with you still on the bed.
You two always woke up almost together, while Jake took a shower and brushed his teeth, you made breakfast and prepared his lunchbox together with a cute note – it wasn’t an everyday routine since some days Jake had lunch with you at home or on a little date.
After eating, you would go watch and help him with his clothes whenever he needed it. You loved to watch him like he was your favorite show, especially because your day started a bit later than that so that was kind of the quality time you two shared every morning.
But today the show was a bit… different.
Jake looked like a lost puppy, shirtless in front of his wardrobe trying to figure out something to wear, barely noticing you hungrily eyeing him up and down not caring much about his whole dilemma.
He turned to you to ask. “This one or this one? What do you prefer?”
You quickly eyed the options and pointed to the red and white striped long sleeve – one of your favorites, so it was your honest opinion, actually.
However you had other ideas running through your mind, so you went closer to him, hugging his warm body from behind before he wore the shirt. “But you look better without any of them, y’know that?” You glanced at him from the mirror in front of you both, your hands caressing his toned chest faking an innocence. Jake’s eyes caught yours showing your clearly second intentions, shifting to a darkened atmosphere right away.
“You think so? Should I go shirtless then?” He asked playfully with a smirk. You giggled mischievously, turning him over so you two could face each other, your hands on his waist while he cupped your face.
“You’d definitely turn some heads,” you teased, leaning in closer, voice turning into a low whisper. “But I’d rather keep the view all to myself,” and with that your lips met his to share a passionate kiss, your small giggles and smiles getting lost in between.
Jake’s body pushed you to start walking backwards while his hands moved your head to the side to deepen the touch. You stumbled your legs on the bed, falling over it without breaking the contact, Jake hovering you as you felt his bulge hardening against your thigh.
He broke the kiss to pick his phone from the nightstand, tilting his head. “We have about fifteen minutes,” and glanced back at you with a smirk, diving into you once again.
“More than enough,” you murmured, shivering with the feeling of the tip of his nose and lips brushing against your neck, giving little kisses on there, your panties dampening just by that.
You sighed, letting out a quietly whimper as Jake’s lips gently sucked a sensitive part of your skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer for you both to kiss. You tried to undress him quickly, removing his sweatpants and boxers in one go with his help after he removed your shorts and panties, leaving you with only your oversized shirt.
You felt his hands traveling down your body until his fingers touched your folds just to collect your arousal to make you nice and ready for him. Jake jerked himself off for a bit, spreading his precum all over his shaft to finally replace his fingers.
He moaned in your ear when he finally felt your tightness around his cock, the action alone making you quiver. You loved to hear Jake’s pretty noises, especially this close. But you wanted more – and time was running out.
“Faster,” you whispered while softly dragging your fingernails all over his back, annoyed by his slow pace not increasing gradually as you expected and wanted.
However, Jake was in the mood of teasing you for a bit – as if you both had plenty of time – by keeping his movements the same, slow and steady, taking his sweet time to watch your frustrated frown. “Jaeyun…” He giggled against your cheek, kissing you afterwards and then he started to go faster, just how you ordered.
Although he was a teaser sometimes, Jake's favorite thing to do was to comply with your wishes; anything you asked him to do he would be willingly doing it. And during intimate moments, he would take his sweet time to observe and understand every reaction of your body whenever he was touching you, at this point of the relationship already knowing how to read you and how to make you feel even better.
So when you started to moan his name in between whimpers, one of his hands slid under your shirt to give your boobs a gentle massage, rubbing your nipples, making you squirm underneath him.
“You’re so pretty,” Jake said tenderly, staring at your face contorted in lust. So gorgeous and just for him.
His fingers let go of your boobs to rush down to rub your clit when you whispered “I’m close, please, don’t– Don’t stop,” with a ragged breath, pulling him closer in a messy, hot kiss. The well-known wave swept through your whole body as your warm liquid coated Jake’s dick. “Fuck,” you rolled your eyes, enjoying your high before coming back to reality to watch Jake focused on now achieving his own climax. “You always fuck me so good, pretty boy,” you whispered while panting and caressing his sweaty hair, a bit overstimulated by his thrusts into you. He groaned and you felt his dick throbbing inside you. “Always fill me up so good, isn’t that right?”
“Fuck,” he whimpered, lips parted while his whole body trembled on top of you, his release inside of you making you moan due your sensitiveness.
“I guess we– We went too intense for a quickie, sweetheart,” he said in between heavy breaths. You laughed, kissing the top of his head.
“You’ll need another shower.”
You persisted in carrying on your plan whenever possible, loving Jake in all the ways you could, showing him how much of an amazing, attractive, irresistible and captivating man he truly was.
Jake was thrilled with all the affection you were showing, not that you never did it before, but he noticed you being more obvious and confident about sexual talks; whenever you got turned on by him doing minimal things, you demonstrated through your words and actions. He knew how hard for you it was sometimes to be so open about your own desires, and he was genuinely happy that you were trying for him, but also unconsciously getting better for yourself.
You were confident, so was Jake. You both created a bound so unique and powerful that could be scary sometimes, but worth it every second.
Jake appreciated every moment you voiced out your needs, now that you knew that he wanted to know any thoughts of your fantasies about him.
On the other side, Jake maintained his whipped self as evident as ever.
Your smell all over the house, your gentle touches whenever you both decided to cook together, your laugh sounding far better than any tracks on the car radio, your cute pout when he had to go to work instead of being on the bed with you for a few more minutes, your presence being so notable when you both went out – and Jake feeling lucky to be the one holding your hands and making you giggle – and, of course, your lips always tasting like heaven, like home.
Jake made sure that you felt needed, loved and cared as well.
And on that day he made one important decision, which was making him a bit more nervous than the normal as he drove you both to a little date on a distant beach you two discovered during one of your many car travels together.
Paramore’s “Still into you” was playing on the radio and you were singing with a bright smile as if it was for him. He was so in love with you, soft eyes watching you whenever he got the chance, smile never leaving his lips.
Jake was glad you couldn’t notice his heart beating fast – not only because of how gorgeous under the sunlight you looked, all happy, but due to his nervous self as well.
When he stopped the car, far enough to avoid any possibility of people seeing you two, he had one thing on his mind before putting his whole plan on work, breaking down the romantic atmosphere.
“I know it’s totally out of the blue, but I need to–”
“Eat me out?” You huffed a laugh, holding his hand. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’re a bit nervous today, my love. Is it because of your presentation next week?” You asked, watching him pause his moves to give you a flabbergasted expression, making you laugh. “I know how to read you, pretty boy,” and with that you gave him a cute wink.
Jake bit his bottom lip before stepping out of the car. You watched with a smirk as he walked around to open the door for you, just to pull you into a kiss and drag you eagerly to the backseat.
You giggled in between the kiss as Jake leaned you fully on the seat, hovering you the way he could due the limited space. Both of you were glad that you chose to wear a skirt that day, so things should be a bit easier.
You felt Jake’s hand sneaking into your clothing piece to slowly rub your clit over your panties the same moment he trailed down his lips to nibble every sweet spot of your neck, the one near your ear making you whimper, your hands scratching his scalp gently.
“You have no idea of how much I’ve been craving you. All day thinking about your pussy on my mouth,” his low tone made you shiver.
“I’m all yours, my love,” you replied in a similar tone and heard him letting out a groan.
Jake took your answer as a green sign, his impatient fingers moving your panties to the side so he could start to pump it into you. He observed your soft features turning into lustful ones and couldn’t hold back his urge to capture your lower lip with his teeth before smirking and going down on you.
“Legs on my shoulder, princess,” Jake said as he positioned himself between your thighs, mouth watering as if he was going for his favorite meal. With your help he moved your panties down just enough for him to dive into you with passion.
Your hands found comfort on his hair, as always. Not only did you loved to grab it, feeling the silky strands running through your fingers, but Jake enjoyed it as well, groaning with pleasure whenever you pulled a bit harder or guided him to ride on his face.
Jake’s mouth made its work on your cunt by sucking, licking and flicking his tongue every once and a while, his nose rubbing on your clit whenever he shook his head purposely to create that friction, hearing your pretty moans filling up the car. Your back arched, your hips bucked forward and your thighs tried to close every time Jake gave more attention to your sensitive clit. His name being the only thing voiced out by you in between moans.
The sensation of Jake’s hair tickling your thighs worked as a stimulus as well, your body always responded to any of his touches with such intensity, as if you were made just for him. And you strongly believed you were.
“I’ve got you, sugar,” Jake said muffed when he noticed your walls clenching more around his tongue, you threw your head back, breath growing heavier and heavier, your mind doing a full spin because of how good Jake was working on you. “Cum for me, yeah? All over my mouth, babe.”
And as if he gave you permission to have your orgasm, you did, your juices being drunk by Jake fervently while you screamed his name. You were panting when he leaned over to share your own taste with you. Jake helped you to get yourself together, giving you water and a tender kiss on your forehead.
After you both recovered – mainly you –, you got out of the car to watch the sunset. As you normally did, you sat on the car hood with his help, and since the car was facing the horizon you both could watch it together in a hug, with Jake between your legs.
“Y’know what I was thinking of?” Jake murmured against your cheek.
“What?” You asked back, gently playing with his hair. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks soothing the atmosphere.
“When I once said I could watch a hundred sunsets with you, you’d still be the prettiest view,” he looked at you with tender, lovingling eyes.
“Oh,” your lips curved in a sincere smile because of the reminiscence. “The first time we said I love you.”
“Yeah, I still agree with the last part,” he whispered, planting a small peck on your lips as you giggled. “But–” Jake sighed nervously, hesitant on his words.
Your heart started to beat faster since you noticed a shift in the mood. “Yes, my love?”
“I don’t think a hundred sunsets will be enough, Y/N,” he said seriously and you noticed how his cheeks got colored by a light shade of pink. You blinked, confused. You watched Jake get a little box from his pockets, opening and showing you two rings, one of them having a moon and the other a sun. “Would you let me be with you for a bit more?”
Your lips parted in shock. Your eyes began to burn and before you could even stop it, tears ran down your face as you hugged him tightly, laughing in pure joy, repeatedly saying “yes”.
Jake once promised you a hundred sunsets – and a bit more.
Now you promised him your heart. A thousand times, if necessary.
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