#don’t bottle up your emotions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smileysuh · 10 days ago

Text

bottle service

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Saying that… I was thinking… maybe tonight…” You can feel your skin heating in embarrassment, you’ve never had to ask a man for sex before, but it makes sense that with this man, this wonderful person who is leaving the ball in your court for all things decision-making, you have to be the one to speak up. “I was thinking maybe tonight we could go that one step further, if you want.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, body/breast worship, foreplay, pussy eating/oral, massaging, blindfold/sensory deprivation, multiple reader orgasms, praise, dirty talk, mention if toys/reader having a dry spell, Cheol’s got a big thick cock, masturbation, mention of proper aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) Doll.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 11.2k

🍭 aus. Slice of life au, bottle service girl! y/n, bouncer!Cheol, friends/coworkers to lovers.

☀️ mlist + an. As someone in the service industry, I kind of like doing this sort of au- I hope I was able to bring a bit of personal/lived experience to this fic :)

Prologue:

It’s been a long shift, and you feel on top of the world as you finally head to the back of the club to do your tip-out. Your fanny pack is full of cash, and you’re already considering different places that would be open at this time of night where you can go and grab a quick post-shift meal. You’re hoping Wonwoo is up for something, as you’ve begun to enjoy yourself more and more when you hang out with the bartender.

You wouldn’t say he’s your boyfriend, not yet, but there’s a potential with him that makes you excited to come to work on nights when you’re both scheduled.

You’ve been in the business long enough to know that relationships with coworkers in the service industry can get… well, messy, but you’re hoping that the hot, quiet bartender will be worth your time.

There’s a late-night ramen place by your apartment, and as you push through the door to the back of house, you think Wonwoo might like a bowl of noodles now that your shifts are over.

You’re walking down the hallway, tired, head in the clouds- you’re hardly thinking as you make your way to the staff room- and then, you stop dead in your tracks.

Your brain hardly registers the sight in front of you, and before you can so much as take a breath, Wonwoo is pulling away from the coworker he was just kissing.

The two stare at you, and the girl has more of a conscience than him, immediately starting to explain herself. “Doll,” she says, using the name you give clients at work, “it’s not how it looks-”

Wonwoo, in contrast, stays dead silent, staring at you without a hint of emotion in his sleepy eyes.

Your heart is thumping in your chest, and you take a deep breath. “I’m going to cashout somewhere else,” you whisper, turning to leave the staff room.

You can deal with this later- right now, you just want to finish up and clock out.

It feels like the room is spinning as you head to the lockers, where a small table provides staff space to eat. You take out your cash slip, quickly slotting in your numbers from the night.

“Are you mad?” Wonwoo’s voice behind you makes you jump, heart leaping again.

“What?”

“Are you mad I was kissing someone else?” he clarifies.

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you. “Is that really a question?”

“We’re not official,” he states.

“You’re right, we’re not.” You sigh deeply, reaching into your fanny pack to pull out cash. “Here’s your tipout.”

You shove the money against his chest, and Wonwoo looks down at it, then up at you. “Are we good?”

“We’re not good,” you tell him firmly.

“Listen,” Wonwoo lets out a breath as you head to the lockers to gather your things. “It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just, bottle girls are bottle girls, and… things take forever with you.”

“What?” You turn to face him.

“You know, flirting for months, finally taking you out, getting you in bed…” he slowly breaks off.

“Is this about the fact that I can’t cum easily? Are you serious?” You can feel your voice beginning to raise, and you do your best to calm down, this is not the place to be discussing your sex life.

“You’re just… I thought you’d be more fun, you know? Like the other bottle girls I’ve been with.”

“And I thought you’d be less of a fucking asshole,” you tell him, grabbing your jacket.

Wonwoo is staring at you with a stunned expression, and you leave him like that, hurrying back the way you came. It’s end of the night at the club, patrons have gone, bartenders are closing up, bouncers are putting away chairs.

You stop at the bar to tip out a few more people, and as you’re heading to the door, you notice Seungcheol approaching. He’s a dark haired, beefy bouncer, and you’re friendly with him, although he’s generally quite serious when he’s at work.

“You heading home?” Seungcheol asks.

“Yup.”

“Is Wonwoo going with you?”

“Nope.”

Seungcheol’s steps falter before he follows you out the front door of the club. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he tells you.

“I’m good.”

“Shit can be dangerous after the club closes,” Seungcheol muses. “You girls carry a lot of cash in those fanny packs of yours, and scumbags know it.”

You sigh, not having the energy to fight the bouncer on this. Things are quiet as he takes you to your car, and you’re kind of glad he doesn’t push you for any details. You know you’re exuding negative energy, a stark contrast to the way you’d been when you’d settled up to head to the back of house just a few minutes ago.

Seungcheol can read people, it’s one of the reasons he’s such a good bouncer, but he respects you enough not to pry, and you appreciate that.

He watches you get into your car, nodding to himself. “Have a good night, Doll.”

“You too, big guy,” you sigh.

Seungcheol closes your door gently for you, and as soon as he’s stepped away, you pull out of the staff parking lot. A few blocks away, you park, taking a deep breath and allowing your emotions to wash over you.

You feel stupid that you’d trusted Wonwoo, stupid that you’d thought maybe things would go somewhere with him.

From now on, you’re going to just focus on work.

The service industry is no place to find a partner.

One:

It’s been a year since you caught Wonwoo kissing someone else, and since then, you’ve really focused on your job. Wonwoo is no longer a bartender at your club, and the girl he’d made out with had left shortly after the altercation.

While the club still holds some negative feelings for you, you’ve been doing your best to push through. Money has been good, and with a fresh focus on service, you’ve become the top bottle service girl. VIP’s come just for you, and you’re used to being a little flirty to make cash.

Jeonghan and Joshua are businessmen who come in frequently, and they always ask to sit in your section.

They’re a developer and real estate agent double team, although sometimes you get confused about which one does what. They’re celebrating a recent triumph, with Joshua drunkenly explaining to you how ‘the house went through escrow, no contingencies, and now we’re smooth sailing, Doll!’

They’ve been drinking a lot, racking up a tab, paying for other people’s alcohol- these men know how to party, and you know how to keep a smiling face with endless enthusiasm for their ability to spend money.

“Have you ever thought about getting into real estate?” Jeonghan asks you. “Businessmen love it when a pretty girl is showing them around a big house, it’s part of the dream of what they could really acquire if they buy a property.”

“Can’t say I’ve considered it,” you smile.

“You’d make a killing,” Joshua agrees, leaning forward. “I’d love to have you on my team.”

“I appreciate that,” you admit. “I’m very happy where I am right now.”

“What if,” Jeonghan grins broadly, “I give you this…” He pulls out his wallet, plucking out two hundred dollar bills before sneaking them into the band of your fanny pack, “and you tell us you’ll consider the offer.”

“I’ll consider it,” you laugh, playing into their drunkenness. Considering an offer for two hundred dollars never means you have to follow through.

“That’s our girl,” Joshua chuckles.

“Our Doll,” Jeonghan agrees, his hand slipping down from your fanny pack to your thigh, exposed by your short black dress-

There’s a flash of movement, and suddenly, someone is gripping Jeonghan’s wrist. “No touching,” Seungcheol’s deep voice reminds the VIP.

Jeonghan is shocked for a moment, the emotion written all over his face. “Right, sorry, my bad.” He tears his hand away from the bouncer. “Sorry, Doll, I got carried away.”

“That’s alright,” you assure them, trying to save face with two of your biggest spenders. “I’ll be back with that round of drinks for you.”

As you turn to leave the table, you pull Seungcheol with you, taking him down to the bar before you’re able to have a discussion. “Cheol-”

“I’m sorry if I stepped in a little quickly,” he tells you immediately. “They’ve been eying you all night, like they do every night, and I just…”

“No, it’s fine, he shouldn’t have touched me, I’m glad you were there.”

“I hope this doesn’t affect your tip or anything,” Seungcheol sighs.

“I’ll be fine,” you assure him. “I appreciate you being there.”

He’s really stepped up in the past year. Not only is he protective of you, but he’s protective of every bottle girl. There’d been a time before him where things hadn’t felt so safe, but with Cheol in the room every night, there have been significantly less incidences of violence from when the bar had first opened, or so you’ve heard.

He’s a good man, and he hires others of a similar caliber. All the bottle girls feel safe with Seungcheol and Mingyu at the door, and that sense of safety helps you all feel more comfortable at tables, leading to bigger and better tips.

Two:

You’re done cashing out for the night, and you meet Seungcheol at the door of the club. Mingyu takes over for him while the head bouncer walks you to your car, a system that’s made everyone feel safer in the past year.

“How was your night?” Seungcheol asks.

“It was good, after you checked Jeonghan, he felt bad, so they ended up tipping me out fifty percent of their bill.”

“That’s good,” he nods.

“If it weren’t for the tips, I don’t know what I’d do,” you laugh.

“It’s not a bad way to make a living,” the bouncer agrees.

“Did you know, Crystal, the new girl, she has a complete doctorate in psychology, but she makes more here as a bottle girl than by being a therapist?”

“Makes sense why the mental health in this country is trash, the government needs to pay therapists more or something.”

You laugh at Seungcheol’s words. It’s true, a lot of very important jobs are becoming less desirable due to shit pay. “I’m still shocked that I can come in for a night and make most of my rent in tips,” you admit. “With Christmas coming up, people are dropping the big bucks, feeling charitable.”

“Just be careful, people are more drunk these days too.”

“True, they are more drunk,” you admit thoughtfully, “but I don’t have to be very careful when I have you walking around making sure nothing bad will happen.”

Seungcheol laughs as he opens your car door for you, helping you into your vehicle. “I’m glad I can make you feel safe,” he tells you.

“Me too, Cheol.”

Three:

It’s New Year’s Eve and you’ve got numerous tables of big spenders. Woozi and Seokmin are regulars, with the latter of the two having somewhat of an obvious crush on you. Normally, they’re pretty respectable, with Seokmin even being known to be a huge blusher. The poor man stutters sometimes when he talks to you, and you’ve never had any trouble with them.

But tonight… well, they’ve been here for hours, and you’re realizing that tonight might be the night you have to cut someone off.

The two men order a round of shots just before midnight, and you head to talk to your manager about it.

“Vernon, may I?” you ask, coming to stand next to your newest manager.

“What’s up, Doll?” he asks, looking up from his iPad.

“My table seventy, Seokmin and Woozi. They’re regulars, usually pretty good, but they’ve ordered a lot of drinks in the past half hour or so. Seokmin in particular has been swaying for the past five minutes. They just ordered another round, and I know it’s about to be midnight on New Years, but I think we need to cut them off.”

Vernon nods, and you watch him look over toward your table. “How much have they had?”

You pull out your own iPad, showing your manager the tab that the two men have collected over the past two or so hours.

“I agree, I think we should cut Seokmin off. He’s had three or four more shots than Woozi, so I think we’ll just respectfully go talk to him.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” you sigh, hating to have to do this.

The two of you take deep breaths before walking over to the table where Seokmin and Woozi are seated.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Vernon starts, plastering on a fake smile. “I’m Vernon, I’m the manager here.” He reaches out a hand, introducing himself to the two men. “Unfortunately, based on how much the two of you have had to drink tonight, the bar has decided to cut you off.”

“What?!” Seokmin bellows, eyes going wide.

“We take our liquor license very seriously here,” Vernon says, his tone lowering to have a regretful edge. “I know you guys are regulars, and I’m sorry I have to do this, but we just have to cut you off.”

Seokmin is very pouty and after a minute, you realize Vernon’s forgetting something. You don’t want to have to remind him of policy in front of guests, but you also don’t want him to head off without finishing this interaction completely, so you step forward. “Seokmin? May I ask how you got here tonight?” You know very well that he drove his sportscar.

“The mustang,” he frowns.

Vernon picks up on your line of questioning immediately. “I’m afraid we’ll also have to ask for your keys.”

Seokmin looks like it’s the end of the world as he pulls out the keys from his suit pocket. “This is the worst,” he groans.

“I hate to be this person,” Vernon sighs again, “but we’ll also have to ask you to vacate the premises.”

“What?!” Seokmin bellows. “But midnight is in ten minutes! Can’t I just stay for ten more minutes!?”

“Seokmin,” Woozi’s voice interrupts his friends dramatics. “We know how licensing works, they’re just doing their jobs. I told you to pace yourself, and here we are. I think you should go home, make things easy on Doll and her manager.”

“We can call you a taxi,” you offer, trying to send a warm smile toward the drunken Seokmin.

“I’m being a burden,” Seokmin whines, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Doll, I’m sorry, Woozi-”

“It’s okay,” Woozi pats his friend’s back. “I’m sure me and Doll won’t hold it against you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you promise.

“I’ll take his tab,” Woozi tells you. “He should just get home.”

“Now you’re taking my tab?! I’m a burden and you’re a great friend!” Seokmin bellows, hugging the intense man next to him.

“Get out of here,” Woozi says, and there’s a fond smile on his face as he pats his friend’s back.

“Okay, I’m sorry for the trouble,” Seokmin apologizes again.

He stands up, and you notice immediately that he’s a little wobbly. “Let me help you outside,” you offer.

“We’ll both help,” Vernon says, and the two of you each grab one of Seokmin’s arms as he wobbles toward the front door.

It’s a packed club tonight, with many choosing your location as a spot to celebrate New Year's. The bouncers are quite busy with the door, but Seungcheol comes over the moment he notices you and Vernon struggling with a very drunken Seokmin.

“Vernon!” another bottle girl, Candy, has shown up too. “I need your help!”

“Shit,” your manager cusses. “Cheol, can you handle this?”

“I want to make sure he’s okay,” you step in. As much as your patrons are a way to make big tips, you do care about your regulars, and you know Seokmin would be happier having you there instead of some scary bouncer.

“Okay, I’ll make sure your section is covered for a few minutes,” Vernon nods before hurrying away with Crystal.

“I’m sorry,” Seokmin mumbles as Seungcheol takes over his right side, helping you drag the man out of the club.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “Just take a few breaths.”

The three of you stop by the curb, and Seungcheol looks around. “I’ll find a cab.”

Seokmin is standing for all of one minute before he collapses to the ground, slipping right from your grasp as he pukes onto the road in front of you.

“Fuck,” you mutter. You’re not sure what he ate today, maybe nothing, but if you’d had realized his tolerance tonight of all nights would be this bad, you would have cut him off ages ago.

You lean down, rubbing Seokmin’s back. “It’s okay,” you tell him, “let it out.”

You take care of him while Seungcheol grabs him a ride, running inside to get a bag for him incase Seokmin pukes again. Then, the two of you help the poor man into the car, with Seungcheol talking Seokmin through his address.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Seokmin moans, pulling out his wallet. “Here.” He shoves a few hundred dollar bills at you and Seungcheol.

“Just get home safe,” you tell him, accepting the money.

Seokmin can only groan, rolling his window up as the cab pulls away from the curb.

You release a deep sigh, turning to Seungcheol. “Here,” you give him half the money, but Seungcheol holds up a hand.

“That’s yours, Doll,” he sighs. “I didn’t do much.”

You open your mouth to argue, and that’s when there’s a loud boom. You look up to see fireworks, and you realize, you’re next to Seungcheol, and the clock has just struck twelve on New Years Eve.

Your eyes shift to the bouncer, realizing how close you’re standing.

He looks so pretty tonight, all big and steady- the fireworks reflecting off his dark eyes.

You swallow the lump in your throat, wrapping your arms around yourself to counter the cold of the evening.

There’s a connection between the two of you, and you’ve felt it for a few months, but now, in this exact situation, you know that every fiber of your being wants this man to kiss you.

“We should uh…” you notice Seungcheol’s gaze dip to your lips, his voice faltering, “we should head inside, you look cold.”

“Right, yeah.” You have to give your head a shake to focus again. “Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The two of you go back into the club and as you begin to serve the VIP tables again, you realize that despite the head shake, you can’t get Seungcheol out of your mind.

Four:

“How’d your night go?” Seungcheol asks a few days later as he walks you to your car after a shift.

“Went alright,” you sigh. “Lots of people are doing the whole ‘Dry January’ thing, but my VIPs are pretty consistent with tips and orders.”

“That’s good,” Seungcheol nods.

“Did you hear about the staff Christmas party in a few days?” you ask.

“Uh huh.”

“Are you going?”

“I’ll be there. You?”

“I’m going.”

The two of you reach your car and you turn to look at Seungcheol.

The moment on New Years is fresh on your mind, in fact, it’s been practically all you’ve been thinking about these past few days.

There’s a new tension between the two of you, and you know from the way Seungcheol shifts his weight from one foot to the other, that you’re not the only one feeling it.

“Thanks for making sure I got to my car safe.”

Seungcheol only nods, and again, you catch him staring at your lips.

Is he going to do it? Is he finally going to kiss you?

“Have a good night,” Seungcheol says gruffly, stepping back.

“Thanks, you too,” you sigh, heart sinking in your chest.

He stays standing there until you’re in your car, and with one final nod farewell, you begin to drive home, the anticipation of a kiss dying in your chest.

Five:

Staff Christmas parties can be hard in the service industry. With everyone booking their own parties and events at your place of work during the end of December, the only time to have them is early January, and then there’s the choice of doing a brunch before you open, or doing a late night thing after close.

A vote had been taken, and with many of you being night owls, you’d agreed to close an hour early on a Wednesday, so here you are, at 1 am, the first week of January, finally having your staff Christmas party.

Drinks are flowing, people are giggling, and overall, you’re enjoying yourself.

You’re not very close with many coworkers, especially after what had happened last year with Wonwoo. In fact, as you float around the room, holding your cocktail, you begin to realize that the person you might be the most connected to is - in fact - Seungcheol.

But there’s still a tension between you, one that makes you nervous to approach the head bouncer as he chills in a booth with a few other beefy security men.

You bide your time, casting a glance his way every now and then. You don’t want to approach Seungcheol when he’s surrounded by others, but as his table widdles down to just him and Mingyu, you take a breath.

Mingyu is known as the softest bouncer, he’s tall, charming, and a hundred percent puppy dog. His eyes light up as you approach, and Mingyu moves over to provide room from you in the booth. “Hi, Doll!” Mingyu beams.

“Hey, Mingyu,” you smile, taking a seat. “How are you two doing?”

“Open bar,” Mingyu responds, holding up his beer. You love how simple things are for this man, if there are cute girl and drinks, he’s happy- so, seeing as he’s a bouncer at a club, you’ve never seen Mingyu in a foul mood.

“What are you drinking, Cheol?” you ask, turning your attention to the person you really want to spend time with. “Vodka cran?”

“Cran soda,” Mingyu corrects. “Big guy isn’t a huge drinker.”

“Really?” you ask, brows raising. “I’m shocked.”

Cheol simply shrugs. “I make it a rule not to drink at work.”

“We’re off the clock,” you remind him with a grin. “Are you sure you don’t want to let loose a little? You seem tense.”

“I’m just not a huge party guy,” Seungcheol sighs, leaning back and resting his palm on the table. You’re struck by his large hands, how pretty they look-

“Speaking of partying,” Mingyu interjects, “I think they’re going to start karaoke soon, I’ve gotta go put my name down.”

You laugh, getting out of the booth to allow Mingyu to scurry away before taking your seat again. “Are you a karaoke fan?”

“Not really,” Seungcheol responds. “You?”

“I can be,” you say thoughtfully. “It depends.”

“You don’t look like you’re having a lot of fun tonight,” Seungcheol notes.

“Wow, big guy, have you been watching me?” you laugh.

“Old habits die hard,” Seungcheol says under his breath.

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”

The large bouncer shrugs. “I guess, you’re our top bottle girl, you deal with regulars and VIPs who get a little more… I don’t know, bold, than others who are here. I always have my eye on you.”

You can feel your skin heat, a mix of embarrassment and pride.

“Anyways,” Seungcheol swallows thickly and it’s clear he wants to shift the topic. “I’m also not drinking because I have to drive home soon.”

“You’re not staying for karaoke?”

“It’s not my scene.”

“Ah, I see.” Your heart sinks a little, you’d hoped to spend more time with him tonight.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks.

“I was probably going to get a cab,” you admit.

“Listen, I think we both spend too much time in this club surrounded by people partying. I don’t know about you, but I’m more of a stay at home and have a quiet night in kind of guy. How would you feel about getting out of here, going to mine and actually relaxing now that we’ve shown our faces here and done our due diligence?”

“I would love that,” you tell him.

Seungcheol nods. “Let’s finish our drinks then.”

“I’ll drink to that,” you giggle, lifting your glass to gently clink against his own.

It’s crazy how you can be in a club full of coworkers and alcohol, music pumping through speakers and Crystal starting a horrible cover of ‘Defying Gravity’ on karaoke, but still, staring at Seungcheol in your booth, it feels like it’s just the two of you.

You’re a little eager with your cocktail, and soon, the two of you are bringing your glasses over to the bar, grabbing your things, and heading out the door.

Seungcheol leads you to the staff parking lot, where he opens the passenger door to a massive black truck. “I’ll help you in,” he says, holding out a hand, “it’s a bit of a high step.”

You’re in cute heels, and you definitely need Seungcheol for stability as you climb into the large vehicle.

He shuts the door gently behind you before walking around the front of the truck to enter his own side.

“You cold?” he asks, putting the keys in the ignition so the truck can roar to life.

“Just a little, I’ll be fine,” you assure him.

The bouncer reaches forward, flicking a button. “I’m going to heat your seat for you.”

You can tell from his tone that he won’t take no for an answer. He wants to take care of you, wants to make sure you’re warm and comfortable.

You admire the truck while the two of you begin to drive to his apartment, and you marvel at the view. Being so much higher than in your own car, it feels very different driving around.

“Are you sure you want to come to mine? I can take you back to yours and drop you off if you’d prefer,” Seungcheol offers.

“No, I want to spend some more time with you,” you admit, taking a leap and being vulnerable.

You see Seungcheol crack a smile, but he doesn’t say anything, and the two of you just grin the whole way to his place. You look at the large building as he pulls into the underground, marveling at the modern location.

“Nice building,” you muse.

“It does the job,” Seungcheol says humbly as he parks. “Let me help you out of the truck.”

You wait patiently for him to come around to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. You gently take his palm, allowing him to help you down. You love the princess treatment, and you think you could get used to this as the two of you head to the elevator.

The elevator ride up to his floor is quite, a giddiness exploding through your stomach. You’re excited about this, about what the night might have to offer you.

“So this is home,” Seungcheol says as he holds open his door for you, allowing you to step into his apartment first.

You can’t help the shock that floods over you at the entryway alone. The design choices are giving modern man, a man who is put together, a man with money, and this hadn’t necessarily been what you were expecting from Seungcheol.

“Wow, this place is nice,” you tell him, slipping off your high heels. “I didn’t know bouncers made this kind of money.”

Seungcheol laughs at your forward statement. “They don’t.” He puts his keys in the entryway decorative bowl. “I haven’t always been a bouncer, you know.”

“No? You didn’t come swinging right out of the womb?” you tease.

He releases another chuckle. “I uh, actually come from money. I own a few properties, make passive income off tenants and stuff. My dad actually owns the club we work at. I used to be a regular there when it first opened, and I saw how tough some of the bottle girls had it, dealing with VIPs and shit. Call it a quarter life crisis or something, but I figured I have enough money, enough assets, to do something that actually makes a difference, even in some small way… running businesses was always my dad’s thing anyway, not mine.”

You stare at him in shock for a few moments, then you swallow thickly to find your voice. “I mean… I always thought Choi was just a common last name, I would have never guessed you were the owners son- I never expected this kind of origin story from you.”

“No? I don’t scream spoiled rich boy to you?” Seungcheol teases.

“I guess your truck probably should have tipped me off,” you admit with a giggle. “Look at you, closeted rich boy who comes to work in jeans and hoodies every day.”

“I like to be comfortable,” Seungcheol muses, leading you into his apartment. “My home is your home, take a seat, and I’ll grab us some drinks.”

You nod gratefully, making your way to the plush sectional couch in his livingroom. It’s an open floor plan, and you turn to watch him in the kitchen. The underlights littered around the cupboards provide just the right ambiance, and you take the time to appreciate the broadness of Seungcheol’s shoulders as he opens his fridge.

“What are you feeling?” he asks. “Beer or wine?”

“Wine sounds good,” you grin. “Although, I never took you as a wine drinker.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Seungcheol responds, pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge. He retrieves two glasses and a corkscrew before coming to join you on the couch. He sets the glasses on the glass coffee table, and then you watch him expertly open the bottle, taking his time.

“You might be better at my job than I am,” you muse, smiling at the man who’s so focused on the wine in his hands.

“I’ve just got practice,” he retorts with a grin. Seungcheol pores you both a drink. “Cheers,” he says, and you clink your glasses.

You take a sip, and Seugcheol watches you intently. “So, you know a little about my past,” he muses. “How about you? How’d you end up doing bottle service?”

You release a deep breath, leaning back against his couch. “That’s a good question.” You adjust a little, tucking your knees up so you can sit sideways, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “You know how I told you Crystal had a doctorate in psychology?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, sipping his wine.

“Well, I was in psychology too. Took the job to supplement my schooling, realized I was making a lot of money from tips. Crystal confirmed the salary difference and I guess I figured I’d put more energy into the club. I graduated a couple of months ago, I’m still considering going back for further schooling, but for now, I think I’m just trying to figure out what I want my life direction to be.”

“I guess having that background makes you better at bottle service,” Seungcheol points out. “You’re really good with clients, especially Seokmin on New Years eve.”

“People just want to be seen and heard,” you sigh. “In a drunk state, a lot of people can be guided with soft tones. You’re at the club to help us girls be safe, I guess I’m at the club to make people feel a little better about interacting with others… sure, there’s money involved too, but that’s capitalism for you.”

“Yeah, capitalism,” Seungcheol releases a sigh, and then a chuckle. “I definitely didn’t think our conversation tonight would steer towards politics and ideologies, but here we are.”

“Where did you think our conversation tonight would lead us?” you ask, cocking your head to the side with interest.

“I guess I just figured maybe I’d invite you back here, open a bottle of wine-”

“So the bottle of wine is for me, you don’t just keep chardonnay in your fridge!”

“Caught me,” Seungcheol laughs.

“What else were you thinking of doing to me once I came here?” you ask, leaning forward with a mischievous arch of your brow.

The bouncer laughs even harder, throwing his head back, but the chuckle turns into a deep sigh, and he meets your eyes again. “Slow down there, Doll, I’m a gentleman.”

“Sure you are,” you tease.

“Why psychology?”

“Hmm?”

“Psychology, you said you took it in school, what pushed you in that direction?”

It’s definitely a topic switcheroo, and you sit back in your seat to think about it for a few moments. “I guess… I just like people. I’m interested in them, and why they are the way that they are.”

“Do you find that working in the service industry gives you a good test group of people to watch?”

You laugh. “That sounds way too scientific for me. I think I’m just a people person.”

“But we both got bored at the party.”

“We just finished shifts. I can’t be surrounded by noise and problems and gossip all day every day,” you point out. “Besides, I wanted to get to know you better, and the club isn’t the best place for that. I think I’ve learned a lot more about you just by seeing where you live than anything else I’ve discovered this past year.”

“Do you like what you’ve learned?”

You smile, nodding. “Yeah.”

You chat for a while, then Seungcheol puts on a show in the background while the two of you take turns asking all sorts of questions. You realize, as Seungcheol drapes a blanket over you, that he truly has no intention of fucking you tonight. He’d brought you back here to get to know you better, not for some ulterior motive that involved getting his dick wet.

You feel safe with him, and as you cuddle up to his side, only half paying attention to the show on the screen, you release a breath. Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep, and you know you’re in good hands.

Six:

You wake up slowly, then all at once, sitting up abruptly with your heart lurching. The room around you is unfamiliar, and when you turn, you notice Seungcheol passed out in bed next to you. He’s still wearing his hoodie, with the hood all the way up, his hair a tangle of dark curls.

When you adjust, he stirs, blinking groggily. “Doll?”

“Sorry, I just-”

“Come here,” he grumbles, pulling you back down and to his chest.

You feel like an extremely little spoon in his embrace, and your heart is racing like a sportscar still. “What happened last night?” you ask.

“You passed out on the couch, it’s more comfortable here. I thought about getting you out of your dress, but I figured that would be creepy so we’re still wearing out clothes from last night,” he sighs. “What time is it?”

“Eleven thirty,” you say, looking at the clock on his bedside table.

“Shit,” he groans.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” you laugh.

“No, I just… Usually I work out at nine am.”

“Guess it’s a skip day.”

“Guess so,” Seungcheol agrees, holding you tighter.

You can feel his breath on the back of your neck, and fuck, it feels good.

You could get so used to this.

“Should we wake up?” he asks.

“If you want.”

“We probably should,” Seungcheol sighs deeply. “Five more minutes.”

You have no qualms with five more minutes of cuddling, and when the time is up, Seungcheol haphazardly gets out of bed. He’s stumbly, his eyes still half closed, and God, does he look adorable.

“I want to take you for brunch,” Seungcheol says. “I’ve gotta shower quickly, do you want to change into some of my clothes?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I’d fit in your clothes, with your broad shoulders and stuff,” you laugh.

“At least take a jacket, closets right here,” he disappears into the walk in, returning with a bundle of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna shower, feel free to take anything you like, I’ll be right back.”

You wait till he’s in the ensuite bathroom, the water running, before you sneak out of bed to investigate his closet.

Turns out he has more than just hoodies and jeans, and you try not to be super snoopy as you look at suits and other attire.

You find a duster jacket, and when you put it on over your dress, you like the oversized feel of it.

You go to wait on his bed, and soon, Seungcheol’s coming out of his bathroom in a new set of clothes. “Are you a brunch girl?” he asks, leading you through his apartment toward the front door.

“I can be, with the right person.”

“Now I see how you get tips, Doll, you’re a charmer.”

“Just being honest with you,” you grin.

Seungcheol chuckles, pulling on a hoodie to go with his jeans before he opens the front door for you to exit.

You’re both tired as you take the elevator down to his truck, and Seungcheol tells you he ‘knows a brunch place,’ so you leave the details in his capable hands.

He takes you to a small Mom and Pop style restaurant, and by the way the hostess greets him, you can tell he comes here a lot. The two of you get a secluded booth in the corner of the restaurant by the window, and Seungcheol releases a deep breath as you sit down.

“I come here most days after the gym, I’m not much of a cook back home,” Seungcheol tells you. “They always let me bring a protein shake in here, and the eggs are good.”

“I’m excited to try the food then,” you admit, looking at the menu.

The waitress comes, and you notice the way she looks at Seungcheol, you suppose you can’t blame her, you look at him the same way.

He’s cordial with her, the two of you getting drinks, and soon, you’re ordering food too. “Eggs any way, let’s do scrambled, make it four eggs, with cheese, rye toast, extra bacon and extra sausage,” Seungcheol tells her.

“Wow, only four eggs today?” The waitress cocks her brow.

“Didn’t come from the gym,” Seungcheol explains.

“You got it, boss,” the server teases.

She takes your order next, then scurries off, and Seungcheol’s gaze shifts to you. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I like you, a lot.”

“I like you too, a lot,” you grin.

“How do you feel about dating coworkers?” he questions.

“I mean… we both know things didn’t end well with Wonwoo, so I’d sort of promised myself not to do that again, but… well, you’re not Wonwoo.”

“I’m definitely not,” Seungcheol agrees with a sad chuckle. “Do you mind if I ask you what happened with him? I mean… you strike me as someone a little more serious, someone looking for something more serious, I always kind of wondered why you tried with Wonwoo of all people.”

“That’s a good question,” you admit, leaning back in the booth. “Honestly, I think I liked the idea of him. I figured he was kind of quiet, which would mean he wasn’t a player, but I was wrong.”

Seungcheol nods, looking down at his hands. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“He thought that, since I do bottle service, I’d be willing to put out quickly, but, I’m not that kind of girl. I have to be comfortable with someone in order to have that sort of deep connection, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m not one for one-night stands either,” Seungcheol agrees.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page about this,” you grin gratefully.

“Me too.” Seugcheol reaches over the table, grabbing your hand. It’s a delicate touch, but it speaks volumes.

The two of you continue to chat, and food comes. You eat peacefully together, and brunch is ending much too quickly for your liking. The two of you get back into his truck, and Seungcheol drives you home, insisting on helping you out of his vehicle again.

You love the way he holds out his hand, helping you down onto the pavement. His free palm steadies you at the hip, and you look up at the bouncer expectantly.

He swallows thickly, his gaze shifting to your lips. “You have no idea how much I wanted to kiss you on New Years,” he admits, tone low.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wished you did.”

There’s a brief moment of eye contact, of Seungcheol being sure you’re okay with this, and then, he cups your cheek, leaning down to finally close the distance.

His lips are soft, his palm warm against your skin, and you have to stifle a moan at first contact. You shift closer, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest to his own.

Seungcheol grabs the small of your back, keeping you tight to his body, the kiss deepening.

There’s a honk from nearby traffic and you jump a little, pulling away while the two of you double check your surroundings.

Your heart is racing in your chest. Once again, you’d been pulled so completely into the experience of being with Seungcheol, that you’d nearly forgotten everything else going around you.

You’re still in a daze as you meet his gaze again, and Seungcheol slowly moves, pressing his forehead against your own in the most loving way possible. “I’ll see you soon,” he promises, gifting one last chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away.

You practically stumble away from him, overwhelmed as you use your key to get into your apartment lobby. You turn to wave goodbye to the bouncer who’s still watching you from his truck, intent on making sure you get home safe, as always.

Seven:

“So…” Candy grins as you both count up your money after a good night, “what’s going on with you and Seungcheol?”

“Huh?”

“I saw you two leave the Christmas party together,” she muses, pausing what she’s doing to give you her full attention. “Something definitely happened.”

“You think so?” you laugh.

“You’re both hot, so, yeah.”

It’s been five days since that night, five days of you and Seungcheol spending every day together in some capacity or another.

“I can see you grinning,” Candy teases before leaning in, her voice lowering. “How is he in bed?”

“Candy!” you laugh, shocked at her direct question.

“What?” She acts as if it’s the most normal inquiry in the world. “You guys have to have slept together by now, no?”

“For your information…” you lower your own tone, shifting closer. “We haven’t.”

“What? But you’re in the service industry! We’re all whores here!”

You can’t help but giggle at her words. “Not all of us, babes.”

“Okay, but… soon though?”

“Maybe…”

“You’re seeing him tonight, aren’t you, Doll?” Candy’s grin widens.

“Maybe…” you singsong.

“Bet you can’t help yourself anymore, huh? Tonight’s the night?” Candy pokes your arm. “That man is so big and tree-like that you could climb him, it must be hard holding out.”

You finish up your cash out with a sigh and a shake of your head. “It’s actually been nice just getting to know him.”

“And when you get married, I’m invited,” Candy declares.

“Sure you are, goodnight, Candy.”

“Only one of us is having a good night, you fucking tree climber.”

You’re still laughing as you get back into the main club area. Seungcheol is waiting for you by the doors, and together you walk to his car.

“Do you want me to take you back to yours tonight?” he asks.

“Hmm?”

“I mean…” he rubs the back of his neck as he holds open the passenger door for you. “I don’t want to be presumptuous-”

“Well I like to be presumptuous,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “which is why I packed an overnight bag for your place.”

Seungcheol grins. “I love a woman who knows what she wants.”

Eight:

You feel like you’ve had a crash course in all things Seungcheol in the past five days, even so, you want to know more, so, you’ve resorted to finding cheesy lists of questions online to ask him.

He’s adorable when you suggest it, pouring you both a small glass of wine before joining you on the couch.

The two of you take turns asking questions, finding inquiries that you hadn’t thought to ask before.

“What was the first thing you noticed about me,” you grin, putting your phone down.

“Your work ethic,” Seungcheol answers. “Your smile, your… infectious personality.”

“Infectious? Okay, mister resting grumpy face,” you tease.

“I’m a bouncer, it’s part of the job,” he muses, reaching for your phone to find a question of his own. “What was your favourite part of our first date?”

“I mean, if you count coming back here after the Christmas party as our first date, it was the fact that I fell asleep so easily next to you. You just relax me, I even woke up in your bed fully clothed after which was nice-”

“Common decency,” Seungcheol interjects with a sigh.

“Still,” you insist. “If we’re talking about the brunch the next morning as our first date, I think I just sort of liked how natural it felt, as if we’d done it a thousand times. There wasn’t any food anxiety-”

“Food anxiety?”

“You know, worrying about getting food on my face or in my teeth, or you judging me on what I ordered- you just, accept me, and I knew it from the start.”

“That’s cute,” Seungcheol grins, passing you your phone back.

You skim the screen for a few seconds. “Have you told your friends about me?”

“Yeah, my friends outside of work know about you.”

“They do?” you smile, heart softening.

“They’ve known about you for a while.”

“Been crushing on your coworker for how long, Cheol?” you tease.

“Like I said… a while.”

You’re satisfied with your answer, so you pass him your phone.

“I found a question,” he says after a moment, “but if it’s not something you want to dive into, we can skip it.”

“Just go for it.”

“So… we’ve talked a bit about this before, for example, I know you’re not a one-night stand person, but other than that, why didn’t things work out with Wonwoo, or, your ex?” he asks, adjusting the question on your list ever so slightly.

“Oof.” You let out a deep breath, taking a sip of your wine.

“Like I said, we can skip it,” Seungcheol assures you.

“No, just give me some time,” you tell him, trying to center yourself. “You want the real answer? The TMI answer?”

“Always.”

“I told you I’m not into one night stands, I told you I need a deeper connection with people- at the root of it, I can’t uh… I can’t cum unless I feel safe with someone.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “So safety, and probably a lot of foreplay.”

“Exactly.”

“And most men haven’t given you that in the past?” he enquires.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Then they didn’t deserve you.”

“And… how would you be different?” you ask, heart beginning to thump faster in your chest.

“Well, I’d take my time with you, for one,” Seungcheol responds, putting your phone down and shifting so he can face you. “I’d find out what you like, what you don’t like… I’d reassure you verbally, I wouldn’t pressure you, and I’d give you space to be yourself.”

“You’re already doing all of those things, which I appreciate,” you admit. “I like how slow we’ve been going.”

“Yeah, me too.” He licks his lips, and your eyes are drawn to the motion.

“Saying that… I was thinking… maybe tonight…” You can feel your skin heating in embarrassment, you’ve never had to ask a man for sex before, but it makes sense that with this man, this wonderful person who is leaving the ball in your court for all things decision-making, you have to be the one to speak up. “I was thinking maybe tonight we could go that one step further, if you want.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Seungcheol asks, cocking his head to the side to assess you.

“Yes.” You nod, forcing yourself to exude assertiveness. “I feel safe with you, and I’m ready to break my dry spell.”

“Dry spell, huh?” The bouncer grins. “I’ll make the wait worth it.”

“You promise?” you ask, moving closer to him.

“I promise.” His strong hands pull you into his lap and you straddle his waist on the couch, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck loosely.

The two of you just stare at each other for a moment, and then Seungcheol leans forward, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

You love how gentle he is with you, but tonight, you want more, and you quickly change the pace of the kiss when you lick at his lower lip, shyly asking for entry.

Seungcheol releases a groan, opening up to you, and you return the sound with a whimper of your own, shifting in his lap. Your chests are pressed together now, and Seungcheol’s hands move from your hips to the small of your back, massaging your body gently as you kiss.

He feels so good, and your mind goes blank as the two of you enjoy each other.

You can’t help it when you begin to move though, wiggling gently against him. You can already feel something pressing up between your legs, and it makes you more confident knowing you’ve had this sort of affect on him.

You’re both breathing heavily when Seungcheol moves his mouth to your neck, searching until he finds your sweet spot. You let out a loud moan, tilting your head back, grabbing at his shoulders tightly. He licks at your skin, gently circling the spot that has your entire body reacting.

Seungcheol releases a deep groan, his hands moving to grip your ass, and then he stands up suddenly, making you clutch onto him in shock.

“Moving to the bedroom,” he tells you, carrying you the short distance.

Seungcheol sets you gently onto his bed, looking down at you. He lets out a breath, running a hand through his unruly curls.

“What are you thinking?” you ask.

“I was thinking maybe you’d be into a blindfold.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve heard that some girls who have anxiety in bed relax more when there’s no need for eye contact, when they can just focus on what’s feeling good.”

“Do you have a blindfold?”

“I have a sleeping mask,” Seungcheol responds, reaching into his bedside table to retrieve one. “Are you up for it?”

“We could give it a try,” you tell him, heart leaping in your chest.

“I think this needs to come off first though,” Seungcheol muses, pulling at your hoodie.

“Do what you need to do,” you say, giving him permission to take care of you in the way he sees fit.

Seungcheol joins you on the bed, and he prompts you to sit up. His hands slip under your hoodie, gently lifting it, but leaving your shirt on beneath.

He kisses you then, taking his time with you, his hands exploring your body. For the first time, his large palm grazes your breast, and you whimper against his lips, arching your back, a nonverbal communication that you want him to continue.

Seungcheol’s mouth moves to your throat again, zoning in on your sweet spot. He begins to slowly slide your shirt up, and soon, he’s discarding that too. All that’s left on your upper half is your bra, and Seungcheol grips your breasts through the padding. His lips kiss the swell of your chest, his hair teasing your jaw even as you throw your head back, breathing heavily.

“Can I take this off too?” he asks, voice low, lust-filled.

“Please.”

His fingers expertly unclasp your bra and he gently takes it off of you, tossing it onto your ever-growing pile of clothes next to the bed.

Seungcheol lays you down softly, pressing his lips against your own. He kisses you deeply and you wrap your arms around him, teasing your fingers along his strong shoulders. You tug at the fabric of his shirt and you can feel him smirk against your lips.

He sits up, reaching behind himself to grab the nape of the neck of the fabric, and then he tugs it off, revealing a chiseled body of muscle. But he’s not lean-muscled, he’s clearly got some beef to him too, and it makes Seungcheol all the more attractive.

His own eyes take in your bare torso, and then he reaches for your breast, softly cupping it. His thumb strokes past your nipple and you groan, writhing against his bed sheets.

Seungcheol leans down, kissing your throat. He takes his time as he begins to descend, and your heart is thundering with anticipation by the time he makes it to your nipple. He licks it gently, circling the pebbled bud.

You groan loudly, threading your fingers in his hair.

He grins as he continues sucking on your nipple, his free hand moving up to cup the neglected breast. You love how he’s taking his time with you, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

“Can I take your sweatpants off?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” You lift your hips to make things easier for Seungcheol, and soon, your pants are discarded, leaving you only in your panties.

“I think it’s time for the blindfold if you want,” he suggests, sitting up and reaching for it.

He passes the silky fabric to you, and you take a breath. “Let’s do it.”

“If you want to take it off for any reason, just take it off, okay?” He’s looking at you very seriously, and you know in your heart that he values your own comfort more than anything else.

“Okay.”

You slowly slip the blindfold on before relaxing back against the bed and releasing another deep breath.

Seungcheol grabs your calf gently, massaging it. His hand is warm and big, working it’s way up to your knee, then you’re thigh.

He shifts on the bed, and a moment later you feel breath against your clothed core.

You grip the bed sheets in anticipation.

Seungcheol presses a kiss to your panty-covered clit and your toes curl involuntarily. You half expect him to continue to focus on your pussy, but his lips quickly move to your inner thigh.

One of his hands is still massaging your thigh, and everything feels heightened with the blindfold on. You’re entirely focused on Seungcheol and his gentle movements, your skin electrified with sensitivity.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner knee.

You can only moan in response, mind pleasantly blank except for the slow build of pleasure that the bouncer is providing for you.

His breath ghosts past your core again and you shiver, clutching harder at the sheets.

“You look a little impatient too,” Seungcheol muses, and you can imagine his grin as he looks up at you.

“I am,” you admit, “impatient.”

“You’re being good for me so far,” he points out. “Maybe… I should finally reward you.”

“Please,” you practically beg.

“Gonna take these off of you now,” Seungcheol says, curling his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

You lift your hips again, and just like that, you’re completely bare for him.

It kind of helps that your own eyes are covered, that you’re not anxiously gaging his reaction to you-

“Still so pretty,” Seungcheol groans, and that’s all the confirmation of attraction that you need. Your pussy throbs at his words, and your skin tingles as he massages your thighs again. “Can you spread these for me, Doll?”

You’re quick to follow through with his request, his large palms helping to spread you open for him.

“Something tells me no one’s eaten you out properly in a very long time,” he muses.

“Try never.”

“You’ve never been eaten out?”

“I have, just… not properly.”

“Men these days,” Seungcheol sighs, and you giggle at his defeated tone.

Your laugh quickly turns into a whimper when Seungcheol licks a stripe of your pussy. He starts at the bottom, and makes his way to the top, circling your clit gently.

“Shit,” you groan, reaching down for him with one hand, trying to grab at his hair.

“Do you like it rough, or gentle?” he asks, guiding you by your wrist so you can take hold of his head.

“A bit of both- surprise me,” you breathe.

“You got it, Doll.”

His attention quickly returns to your core, where he begins to suck and lick. Every time you start to feel close from him playing with your clit, his tongue slips down to press into your hole. It’s a push-pull of pleasure, a teasing control of your body.

Your stomach muscles begin to clench, and you start to feel desperate.

“Seungcheol,” you whine, “I want to cum.”

“Yeah?” He’s panting against your pussy now and it feels so fucking good.

“Please?”

“I thought you said it’s hard to make you cum, I figured I’d be down here for a while.”

You pause, realizing that this might be the fastest you’ve ever come to an orgasm with a man.

“I-” You can’t find words, and you swallow thickly.

“I don’t think you have a problem cumming,” Seungcheol muses, stroking your thigh. “I think no man has put an effort into foreplay or eating you out, which is a shame.”

“You really… you don’t think anything is wrong with me?”

“There was never anything wrong with you, Doll, you should know by now that most things in this world are a man’s own fault, they just push it onto the women who are around them because they lack the emotional maturity to take accountability for their own failings.”

You let out a sad chuckle, shocked at the words that have just come out of his mouth. “You’re deeper than I ever imagined you would be, Cheol.”

“Baby, you have no clue how deep I can be, but you’re about to find out… you can cum, by the way, you don’t need my permission.”

Your heart skips a beat as his mouth returns to your pussy, and this time, he doesn’t tease around, it’s clear to him that your clit is ready to be properly stimulated, and you get the sense that Seungcheol would never deny you anything, least of all an orgasm.

He’s being rougher with your clit now, but he’s built you up to the point where you can take it. Your thighs are beginning to shake, your muscles tensing in preparation for the high that you know you’re about to hit.

You can’t help the moans slipping out of you, and there’s something so erotic about being blindfolded still- you can fully enjoy yourself, fully enjoy the masterful way Seungcheol’s mouth is working your most sensitive spot-

He sucks harshly and that’s all you need to cum, your orgasm exploding through you like fireworks. Your grip intensifies on his hair, keeping his face buried between your thighs while your entire body begins to shake with pleasure. It’s all-consuming, all-encompassing- and without a doubt, the best orgasm you’ve ever had with a man. Sure- your vibrators have been pretty amazing in the past, but fuck, there’s something about Seungcheol, something about someone else doing this to you- it gives you goosebumps as the waves of pleasure surge through you.

You’re gasping by the time you let up on his hair, and Seungcheol finally pulls away from your shaking body.

You can feel his eyes taking you in, and you slip the blindfold off, blinking up at him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, pushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“So good,” you whimper, still trying to catch your breath.

“Do you want to stop now, or…”

Your gaze shifts down to the tent in his sweatpants- you can’t believe he’s willingly volunteering for blue balls- completely okay with having pleasured you and not getting a release for himself.

“No, I want to go all the way, clearly,” you retort. “Take your sweatpants off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he teases, getting off the bed so he can push the black fabric down. His hard cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, and you can feel yourself practically drooling. “So… condoms?”

“I’m clean, and I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean too, but if you don’t take my word for it, I’ve got protection-”

“Cheol,” you laugh, cutting him off, “I trust you.”

“I trust you too,” he says, getting back onto the bed with you.

He slips between your legs, his lips meeting yours desperately. Your thighs wrap around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is dragging against your pussy with each movement.

Your hands grab at his shoulders, chests pressed together now- it’s as if you’re breathing each other in. Nothing feels awkward or forced, and it definitely doesn’t feel like your first time with him. He knows you, knows what you like, what pace suits you best-

God, you’re at a very real risk of falling head over heels for this man, but you decide that’s something to worry about later.

“Cheol,” you whimper against his lips, and that’s all you need to say to him as a cue, he reaches between your bodies, grabs the base of his cock, and guides the tip to your wet hole.

“If it hurts-” he begins to say, but you draw him closer with your legs wrapped around his hips, forcing an inch of his length inside of your aching hole before he can finish his sentence. “Shit-” He cusses, breathing heavily.

He dips his head, eyes glued to the spot where he’s sinking inside of you.

An actual, honest-to-God, non-man-made material cock hasn’t been inside of you in ages, and it feels so good to have something real dragging against your sensitive inner walls. You moan immediately, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes.

Seungcheol takes the opportunity to kiss your sweet spot, teasing you as he sheaths himself all the way to the hilt. You both gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“You good?” he pants.

“So good,” you retort with another loud moan.

Seungcheol begins to move, slowly at first, allowing you to fully adjust to the size of his cock. You can feel your body relaxing, and as it gets less tense, Seungcheol’s pace begins to increase.

His lips move from your throat to your own mouth again, and the two of you kiss desperately as he fucks you.

Nothing has ever felt this right.

“Fuck, I’m close already,” Seungcheol muses.

“Then cum?”

“No, I want to enjoy this more,” he argues. “Here, can we switch positions?”

“Yeah, how do you want me?”

“Mmm… Maybe doggy? Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod quickly, pressing one last kiss to his lips before he pulls out of you.

You quickly roll onto your knees, arching your back and presenting yourself to him.

“Fuck, you look good in every angle, don’t you, Doll?” he groans, massaging your ass.

“I live to please,” you tease, wiggling your bum gently.

“Shit.” Seungcheol pushes his cock into you again and you both groan. “Want you to rub your clit for me. I don’t want to cum until you cum again, want you squeezing my cock and gripping the bed sheets when we both tip over the edge.”

“Yes, Cheol,” you whimper, slipping your hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive bud while Seungcheol begins to fuck you.

His pace is slow, careful- and you’d bet your wages that he’s still close to the edge, that he’s actively trying to calm down to give you time to get there too.

One of his hands continues to massage your ass, a constant reminder of his gentle and caring nature. He’s not gripping hard or slapping- just massaging, and it feels amazing.

Each thrust has him hitting a spot deep inside of you, doggy is a great position for that kind of penetration, and once again, you close your eyes to focus on the sensation.

You rub your clit harder, and the two of you groan as your pussy squeezes around his cock in response.

“Shit, you feel so good,” Seungcheol murmurs, both hands finding your hips as he begins to fuck you faster.

“You too,” you whimper, focusing entirely on the feeling of pleasure building in your pussy. “Can you slow down for a second?”

“Yeah.” You hear him swallow thickly, his pace decreasing. “Better?”

“Yeah, I just have to- fuck, focus on my clit for a sec.”

“Take your time,” he assures you.

You relax your body, breathing deeply as you rub your clit in hard circles. Your pussy begins to clench again and Seungcheol groans-

“Almost, almost,” you whisper- you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge- “okay, fuck, I’m going to cum!”

“Should I fuck you?” he asks, and you can hear the frazzled tone in his voice.

“Yeah, fuck me, shit, fuck me, please!” you cry out desperately, so close to the edge that you can taste it-

“You got it, Doll.”

And just like that, he’s pistoning into you. The feeling of his cock filling you up is the cherry on top of your pleasure, and you release a strangled whimper- “Cumming!”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans behind you as your pussy clamps down hard on him, squeezing him like a vice.

His thrusts momentarily falter as your core throbs around him, and then his fingers are digging into your hips. “I’m cumming too-” he tells you, and you can feel his cum beginning to fill you up.

It feels so fucking good to be filled like this again, and you gasp as you both cum together. Your hands ball up in the fabric of his bed like an anchor, your entire body consumed by pleasure for the second time tonight.

The groans leaving Seungcheol’s lips are a whole different kind of sexy, and you focus on him as you both begin to come down from your highs.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, stopping behind you, his hands smoothing up and down your back again. “You good?”

“So good,” you whimper.

“I’m going to go get you a cloth, and then we should have a shower together.”

“I’m so tired though-” you begin to argue.

“Doll, you might not be used to men taking care of you, but I want to be the person who makes you feel good, and part of that, is having a nice shower after sex, then cuddling up in bed. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Seungcheol,” you smile, “I trust you.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! we love feminist!Seungcheol in this house!

🍭 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 realized in the couple of months you’ve been dating Seungcheol that with the right person, cumming can happen. It’s not that it’s necessarily easy yet, but it’s not some all-consuming, anxiety-inducing hurdle to jump over with a man who isn’t supporting you at all.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, body worship, blow job/oral, hand job, multiple positions, Cheol is impatient and needy when reader is giving, praise, dirty talk, teasing, masturbation, etc… I petnames. (hers) Doll.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 160

🌙 starring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader

bonus

“You look upset,” Vernon muses as you take a breather at the bar while waiting for cocktails to be made.

“Do I?” you sigh, closing your eyes to center yourself.

“Did uh… did something happen with Seungcheol?”

“What? God, no.” An awkward laugh tumbles from your lips. “Do I seriously look that upset?”

“You definitely look off,” Vernon points out.

“It’s just…” you exhale deeply, “you know, being in bottle service, getting hit on is part of my job, being a little flirty is how I make the most tips-”

“But you feel like that’s not being nice to Seungcheol,” your manager finishes for you, hitting the nail on the head.

“Exactly.”

“I mean…” Vernon’s gaze shifts to the bouncer by the door. “He doesn’t strike me as a jealous person.”

“And he’s not,” you’re quick to assure him, “that’s not the problem.”

“So… if he doesn’t care, then… what do the kids say these days? Make that bag? Make that money to buy that bag?”

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@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @sourkimchi

svt taglist

@candidupped - @cheolussy - @aaniag - @imprettyweird

@xcynthiaaa

As I was short on time this month and unable to do a teaser, here's another shout out to some of my favourite blogs who interact with my work, I love you guys endlessly

@bobathi - @amazinggraxia - @bluempire425-blog -

@twililty - @cheolaholic - @babieculture

@meowniee - @ridenotpark - @ollieollieoctopus

@axo-l0tl - @blspphr3 - @roseandpeaches

#seungcheol smut #svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #s.coups #s.coups smut #s.coups svt

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oceantornadoo · 11 months ago

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protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley wife #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #ex husband ghost #fluff

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maccreadysbaby · 1 year ago

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Some of My Favorite Ways to Describe a Character Who’s Sick

pressing their forehead into something cool or comfortable (this could be an array of things. the table, the floor, someones leather jacket, their water bottle, the countertop)

warm to the touch, or heat radiating from them (could be noticed if someone’s gauging their temperature with their hands, hugging them, or just generally touching them)

leaning into people’s touch, or just spontaneously leaning on them (like pressing into their hand when someone’s checking their temp, or just, like, literally walking up and laying their head on them from fatigue. bonus points if the character is usually feral and the other is scared to engage™︎)

falling asleep all over the place (at the dinner table, on their homework, in the car, in the bathroom — just being so exhausted from doing literally nothing)

being overly emotional (crying over things that don’t usually bother them, like their siblings arguing, or their homework, or literally just nothing)

stumbling/careening/staggering into things (the wall, furniture, other people. there is no coordination in feverish brains. running into chairs, hitting the door, falling over the couch, anything and everything)

slurring their words (could be from fatigue or pain. connecting words that shouldn’t be connected, murdering all of their conversations with the excessive use of ‘mm’ and ‘nn’ in place of words) (this is my favorite thing ever)

being overly touchy (basically like a sick kid — just hold them, please. do that thing where you brush their hair back out of their face, or rub circles on their back, or snuggle them. they won’t care. bonus points if this is also the feral character and they refuse to believe it afterwards)

being extremely resistant to touch (flinching away when they usually don’t so someone can’t feel the fever, not letting themselves be touched because they’re so tired they just know they’ll be putty in their hands if they do)

growing aggressive or being extremely rude (it’s a defense mechanism — they feel vulnerable and are afraid of being manipulated or deceived while they’re ill)

whimpering/whining/groaning (this was in my “characters in pain” post but it’s so good that i’m putting it here too. this shite is gold, especially if it’s just an involuntary reaction to their symptoms)

having nightmares caused by a fever and/or delirium (crying and murmuring in their sleep, or being awake but completely out of it and convinced they’re somewhere else)

making themselves as small as possible (curling up into a ball everywhere they lay, hunching over slightly when standing, wrapping their arms around themselves)

TW for vomiting below cut !!

sleeping in the bathroom floor because they keep getting sick over and over (bonus if someone finds them all weak and pitiful. bonus bonus if they find them there in the morning only to learn they’ve been there all night)

using their hands/other body parts to clamp over their mouth so nothing can come out (like pulling their knees up to their chest and using that, or like, their arm, y’know) (~maccreadysbaby who has emetophobia suddenly gets very awkward about this post~) (~yes i have a phobia of puke and still write this happening to my characters, shut up~) (~it’s about the hurt/comfort okay~)

sympathy pukers (people who aren’t the sick ones but get nauseous/vomit when they see someone else throw up) (~aka me~) (~okay I’m done now~)

dry heaving (it’s gross, but good for making your characters absolutely freaking miserable)

rolling/churning/spinning/cramping/ lurching and all those awesome words that describe what stomachs do when sick (i hate these words with a deep, fiery passion. but they’re good for writing or whatever)

#writing angst #creative writing #writing #writers #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing tips #writing help #word bank

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rafesapologist · 3 months ago

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if you would've been the one ─ rafe cameron

summary: rafe gets engaged and you find out.

warnings: angst, swearing, not proof-read

author's note: if you guys didn't know, i love writing angst so enjoy!!

The Pelican Yacht Club hums with the familiar buzz of a humid summer day. You stand behind the bar, the scent of saltwater mixing with the tang of citrus as you slice limes for the afternoon rush. The air is thick, almost suffocating, but you’ve gotten used to it. It’s a typical day—until it isn’t.

You glance up when the door swings open, letting in a flash of sunlight that makes you squint. It's Sofia. She isn’t scheduled today. The sight of her here, so out of place in this moment, makes your stomach twist. You force yourself to look away, feigning interest in the drink menu as she walks past. You can’t help but feel a twinge of resentment as she greets the staff with her bright smile, as if she’s the sunshine that everyone’s been waiting for.

Part of you hates her for that smile, hates the way she effortlessly lights up the room. But it’s not really her you’re mad at—it’s what she represents. Rafe Cameron’s new girlfriend. The girl who has no idea about the summers you spent next door, about the nights you sat on the dock with him, talking about everything and nothing. The girl who has no clue about the history between you and Rafe before she ever came into the picture.

You find yourself inching closer, pretending to fix a shelf of liquor bottles while you strain to overhear her conversation with your boss. Sofia’s voice is low but excited, the kind of tone people use when they have news that’s too good to keep quiet.

You catch bits and pieces of the conversation—something about a new start, a fresh chapter. Your heart pounds as you try to piece it together. Then you hear it, clear as day.

“I’m engaged,” Sofia says, a soft, dreamy smile spreading across her face. “Rafe proposed last night.”

You freeze. The glass in your hand slips slightly, a cold splash of water running down your wrist, but you barely feel it. You’re too stunned, too caught in the moment. Engaged. She’s not just his girlfriend anymore—she’s his fiancée. And she’s leaving. You hear her tell your boss she’s quitting, planning to move in with Rafe, start their new life together.

Your heart sinks, the words echoing in your head like a tolling bell. Engaged. Moving in with him. The world blurs around the edges, your fingers gripping the counter as you try to steady yourself. You force a smile when your boss catches your eye, but it feels thin, barely there.

Your heart thuds violently against your chest, every beat echoing like a cruel joke pounding in your ears. It feels as if your very emotions are ripping at your heartstrings, tearing them apart one by one. The realization claws at you, raw and unyielding. Engaged. You can’t even say the word in your head without feeling your throat tighten, a wave of nausea creeping up as if the world itself has betrayed you.

Your lips curl, the bitterness flooding your mouth as if you’d just bitten into a sour lemon. It’s a twisted smile, one that burns with hatred and betrayal. She had no idea—how could she? How could she possibly know the history, the gravity of everything she just shattered with those simple, giddy words? Bitter tears prick at your eyes, the kind that sting and make you blink rapidly, as if you could will them away.

Without thinking, your fingers fumble at the ties of your apron, ripping it off with a sudden, violent tug. The fabric falls to the floor with a muted thud, but it feels like a thunderous crash in your ears. You don’t care who’s watching; you don’t care what they’ll say. The room seems to tilt around you, your vision narrowing as your breaths come in shallow, rapid gasps.

You place your trembling hands on the counter, feeling the cool surface beneath your fingertips as you try to steady yourself. It doesn’t help. You bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you suck in a ragged breath, trying to rein in the flood of emotions threatening to drown you. The noise of the yacht club fades to a dull hum, everything around you blurring as you fight to keep it together.

Suddenly, nothing around you matters anymore. The clinking glasses, the murmur of the club members, the dull chatter of your coworkers—all of it fades to a distant, meaningless buzz. Your job, your manners, your reputation—all the things you’ve been clinging to for a sense of normalcy—seem laughably small in the face of what you’re feeling. The rage and heartbreak surging inside you demand an escape, a release you can’t find standing behind this bar pretending everything is fine.

Without a second thought, you shove the door open, storming out of the yacht club. No one notices. No one even calls your name. The warm, sticky air hits you like a slap in the face as you step outside, but it does nothing to calm the storm brewing within you. You stumble forward, gasping for air, your chest heaving as if you’re drowning. You bend over, hands clutching your knees as you choke on your sobs, each tear hot and unforgiving as it spills down your cheeks.

You force yourself to look up at the sky, its bright blue taunting you. The sun burns harshly, casting long shadows over the marina, but you only feel the darkness wrapping around you. A bitter laugh escapes your lips, followed by a curse you fling at the heavens. You want to scream, to demand an answer from whatever cruel force is out there pulling the strings of your life. What about her? you think desperately, the words echoing in your mind like a broken record. What about her made her deserve a ring, Rafe’s ring?

Your hands clench into fists as you straighten up, trying to find your balance, but the ground feels like it’s shifting beneath you. The memories of Rafe slam into you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable. The late nights by the dock, the way he used to look at you when he thought no one else was watching, the soft, fleeting kisses that felt like promises he’d never actually made. They all flash before your eyes like a haunting nightmare you can’t wake up from.

It hits you then, like a punch to the gut—the realization that everything you shared, everything you held onto, meant nothing now. He’s chosen her. He’s given her everything you once dreamed he’d offer you. And in that moment, the weight of it all is too much to bear, your knees nearly buckling as you clutch your chest.

A rush of adrenaline surges through your veins, and before you can even think, your feet are moving. You take off, sprinting away from the yacht club, away from the suffocating weight of it all. Where you’re going? You have no idea. You just need to move, to run until the pain isn’t the only thing you feel. The wind pushes against you, almost as if it’s trying to slow you down, but you ignore it. You let it whip through your hair, the strands tangling into a mess of disheveled curls as you race forward.

Your feet pound against the pavement, carrying you closer into town, toward Figure 8—the gilded paradise of the wealthy, where your story with Rafe first began. The roads twist beneath you, familiar yet foreign now, each corner a sharp, painful reminder of the past. You pass the spot where he kissed you for the first time under the flickering streetlight. The bench where you once sat for hours, talking about dreams that were never meant to be. The old corner store where he’d steal glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. It all burns a hole straight through your chest, the memories hitting you harder than the humid wind in your face.

You don’t stop. You can’t. The images flash by in a blur, each one slicing deeper into your already bleeding heart. It’s like you’re running through a living nightmare, haunted by ghosts of the life you thought you might have had. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, the tears streaming freely now, hot and unrelenting. Mascara streaks down your cheeks, black rivers tracing the contours of your face—a perfect, messy representation of where you were mentally.

You push yourself harder, faster, until your legs scream in protest and your lungs burn with every gulp of air. The world around you blurs, the people, the cars, the houses—none of it matters. You keep running, driven by the pain that won’t let you rest. Your chest heaves, a raw ache settling in as the adrenaline begins to fade, replaced by the crushing weight of exhaustion. You stumble to a halt, bent over, hands on your knees once more as you gasp for air.

You’re breathless, hair a wild halo of loose curls sticking to your tear-streaked face. Your vision swims, a cocktail of sweat and tears blinding you as you look up at the sky, feeling nothing but the hollow ache in your chest. Here you are, in the place where you once made all your memories with him. But it feels like a stranger now—empty, cold, and unwelcoming.

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, hands braced on your knees, gulping down air as if you’ve just surfaced from drowning. You can’t even process where you are—all you can feel is the tight, agonizing pressure in your chest, like your heart is being squeezed by an invisible fist. You’re vaguely aware that people are walking by, probably staring at you, but it’s like they’re part of a distant dream. Their gazes feel like nothing more than a blur on the edges of your vision.

But you don’t care. You’ve been stripped raw, exposed in a way that makes everything else fade into insignificance. You push yourself upright, your fingers digging into your waist as you take in deep, ragged breaths, trying to slow the pounding of your heart. The mascara streaks have dried, the salty residue of your tears leaving your cheeks tight and sticky. You close your eyes for a moment, just a moment, trying to pull yourself together.

Then you hear it. A voice—his voice.

"Y/N?"

The sound of your name hits you like a bolt of lightning, jolting you back to reality. You freeze, your heart skipping a beat as the familiarity of it wraps around you like a cold, clammy hand. You know that voice better than your own, and yet, hearing it now feels like a punch to the gut. It’s haunting, the way it slices through the air, so soft and unsure, as if he’s almost afraid it might actually be you standing there, looking as broken as you feel.

Slowly, you turn around, your eyes widening as you meet his gaze. Rafe Cameron stands just a few feet away, his expression a mixture of shock, concern, and something else you can’t quite place. For a second, it feels like the world stops spinning, the sounds of the town fading into the background until it’s just the two of you, standing there like the past has come back to drag you under.

He takes a hesitant step closer, his brow furrowing as he takes in your disheveled appearance—the wild curls, the streaks of makeup, the look of utter devastation in your eyes. You can see the questions forming on his lips, the confusion in his eyes. But you’re too stunned to speak, the words trapped in your throat. All you can do is stare back at him, feeling the sharp sting of fresh tears welling up again.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Rafe’s voice is laced with genuine concern, the sincerity in his tone unmistakable. His eyes scan your face, searching for answers, and for a fleeting moment, he looks like the Rafe you used to know—the one who held you close on quiet nights, the one who made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But the sound of his words makes you feel sick to your stomach. The irony of his compassion now, when it feels like he’s the one who drove the knife into your heart, twists inside you like a dagger. You let out a bitter, humorless laugh, the sound cutting through the air like shattered glass. It’s as if he’s playing a cruel joke, and you’re the punchline.

“What do you care?” you snap, your voice raw and venomous. You can feel your top lip quiver in disgust as you shake your head, unable to look at him without the pain flaring up like a fresh wound. His expression falters, the shock evident in his eyes. It’s like he’s been slapped, his confusion deepening as he takes in the sheer hurt radiating off you.

“You don’t get to act concerned,” you spit out, each word drenched in the bitterness that’s been festering inside you. “Not after everything. Not after this.” The last word comes out almost as a whisper, your voice breaking under the weight of it.

Rafe’s expression shifts, a deep crease forming between his brows as he stares at you with wide, bewildered eyes. It’s almost laughable—the look of shock, the utter confusion twisting his features as if he genuinely has no idea why you’re standing here, mascara-streaked and heartbroken. He takes a small step closer, his voice soft and pleading.

“What did I do?” he asks, sounding clueless, like a child who doesn’t understand why they’re being scolded. His tone is so sincere, so filled with concern, that for a split second, you almost believe him. But then the truth crashes over you again, sharp and unforgiving, and it sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through your veins.

You scoff, a bitter sound that feels like acid on your tongue. His naivety, his complete obliviousness to the damage he’s caused, only fuels the fire inside you. You look up at him, your eyes blazing with the kind of betrayal that words can’t fully capture.

“I don’t know, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with venom as you take a step closer, your gaze piercing right through him. “You tell me. Maybe an engagement, perhaps?”

You spit the words out, practically throwing them at him, your voice cracking under the weight of your own disbelief. You watch as realization dawns on his face, his eyes widening slightly, the color draining from his cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. It’s like he’s been struck dumb, caught off guard by the sheer force of your anger and the pain radiating off you in waves.

The silence between you is deafening, charged with the weight of everything left unsaid. You can see it in his eyes—the moment he pieces it together. And it’s almost satisfying, watching the horror settle in, watching him realize that the life he’s built, the future he’s promised someone else, has shattered you in ways he never anticipated.

“You didn’t think I’d find out, did you?” you whisper, your voice hoarse as the tears well up again. “You didn’t think it would matter.” The words hang in the air, heavy and accusatory, and for once, Rafe Cameron has no response. He just stands there, staring at you like you’re a mirror reflecting all the mistakes he’s made.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

The words fall from his lips like an empty promise, and you can’t help but scoff, the bitter laugh bubbling up uncontrollably. You know it means nothing. It can never mean anything. No apology, no amount of regret can ever take back what’s been done, what he’s taken from you. Your chest tightens as the anger swells up, hotter and sharper with each passing second.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” you spit, your voice rising in pitch with every word. You can feel your fists balling at your sides, your body shaking with the weight of everything you’ve tried to swallow down, tried to bury. “You’re sorry?”

You throw your arms up in the air, an exaggerated motion of frustration, a physical manifestation of everything inside you that’s about to break free. “You think some bullshit apology is going to make up for what you’ve put me through?” you shout, your voice rising to a scream. The words burst out of you in a raw, jagged rush, like you’re finally tearing through the wall of calm you’d built just to keep from falling apart. “You think saying ‘sorry’ is going to make me forget everything? Forget you? Forget the way you made me feel like I was the only one in the world and then turned around and chose her instead?”

Your breath is ragged, your chest heaving as your emotions spill out of you uncontrollably. You’re not even sure where the words are coming from now, but they come in a torrent, desperate and aching. "How am I supposed to wonder for the rest of my life," you continue, your voice shaking, "why you chose her instead? What was it about her that made you pick her over me, Rafe? What the hell did I do wrong?"

You step closer, not caring anymore about the distance between you. Your face feels hot, your pulse pounding in your ears, but you can't stop yourself. "You think I won’t wonder, every goddamn day, why I wasn’t enough?" you add bitterly, the weight of your words crashing down on you.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you, I… I did it because she’s stuck by my side through all of this stuff I’ve been going through.”

The words hit you like a slap, but you don’t let him see the sting. Instead, your head snaps over to him, your eyes narrowed so dangerously that if looks could kill, he’d drop right there, dead. Every ounce of frustration, anger, and betrayal gathers in the pit of your stomach, and your mouth twists into a bitter frown. It feels like your entire body is ready to explode.

“And what? I wouldn’t have?” you snap, voice raw with fury. “You didn’t give me the fucking chance to, Rafe!” Your heart is pounding now, each beat a furious reminder of everything you’ve been through—of the way he’s shattered you, piece by piece. “You gave up! The second things got a little hard between us, you gave up. We could’ve worked through it if you actually tried!”

The words fly out of you, harsh and cruel in nature, but they don’t feel like enough. You shove him, your hands landing firmly against his chest in a fit of frustration. “I love you, Rafe!” you scream, the sound of your voice trembling with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. “I fucking love you, and it has destroyed me watching you give your all to someone else. You have ruined me!”

And that’s when it breaks. The dam cracks, the tears flood, and you’re not just crying—you’re sobbing, your body wracked with the weight of it all. Your chest aches with the sobs, your body collapsing under the strain as you stand there, shaking uncontrollably in the middle of the street. All the rage, all the hurt, all the unanswered questions spill out of you like a river that’s finally burst its banks.

Rafe stands frozen for a moment, as if unable to process the sight of you, broken and vulnerable in a way he’s never seen before. His face goes pale, his eyes wide with guilt and horror, realizing that he’s the one who’s caused all of this—he’s the one who’s done this to you. And the weight of that realization hits him harder than anything else could.

Without another word, he pulls you into his chest. The gesture is sudden, almost desperate, as if he needs to hold you as much as you need to be held. His arms wrap around you tightly, firmly, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. You can feel his body against yours, the warmth of his chest as you crumble in his arms, your sobs echoing between you both.

For a moment, you stand there in his arms, the two of you swaying slightly as if the ground beneath you is unsteady. His grip on you is firm but gentle, like he’s trying to hold together the pieces of you he’s broken, letting you cry out your frustrations, your sadness, your heartbreak. The tears flow freely, soaking into his shirt, and he just holds you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head. He doesn’t say anything, because he knows there’s nothing he can say to make this better. So he lets you cry, lets you release everything you’ve been carrying.

For just a second, you almost let yourself lean into him. His hold feels like comfort—like a memory of what it used to be, back when you felt safe and wanted. But then the reality slams into you like a tidal wave. He’s not yours anymore. He belongs to someone else now, someone who wears his ring, someone who gets to wake up next to him every morning. The realization crashes down on you, a flood of emotions so overwhelming that you choke on your own sobs, the pain squeezing your chest until it feels like you can’t breathe.

“I can’t stand to see you like this, Y/N,” Rafe says softly, his voice trembling as he looks down at you. His eyes are filled with a deep sadness, like he’s finally seeing the full extent of the damage he’s caused. He pulls back just enough to see your face, his hands cupping your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. The way he’s looking at you—it’s almost unbearable, like he’s mourning something he’s only just realized he lost. “This isn’t your fault,” he continues, his voice cracking slightly. “You’re right, it’s my fault. It’s my fault for not trying harder.”

His words are raw, filled with a regret you’ve never heard from him before, and it makes your heart ache even more. You want to scream at him, to push him away and tell him that it’s too late—that his apologies don’t change anything. But you’re too exhausted, too broken to fight anymore. You just stare at him, tears still streaming down your face, your lips trembling as you try to find the words to respond.

“But it doesn’t mean that I don’t… love you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. The confession hangs between you like a fragile, broken thing. You can see the truth in his eyes, the love that’s still there, buried beneath layers of mistakes and regret. It’s there, as real as the pain in your chest, and it cuts you deeper than anything else he could have said.

The words sink into you, bittersweet and hollow. It’s what you’ve wanted to hear for so long, and yet it feels like a cruel joke now, a confession that comes far too late. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you try to steady yourself. His love—it doesn’t change what’s happened, it doesn’t erase the hurt.

“You don’t mean that,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you shake your head, refusing to let his words sink in. It’s almost like you’re trying to shake them off, as if denying them will somehow lessen the pain. You close your eyes tightly, squeezing out the last of your tears because looking at him—seeing the raw, honest look in his eyes—will only make it hurt more. It’s too much. The truth you’ve waited so long to hear is finally being spoken, but it’s laced with the bitter sting of timing that’s all wrong.

Rafe’s grip on you tightens, his hands trembling slightly as he holds your face, desperate to make you believe him. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he searches your expression, as if he’s looking for a way back to you, a way to undo everything that’s happened. “No, I do mean that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. He pauses, the words hanging between you, heavy and filled with a regret so palpable it feels like a punch to your gut.

“I’ve known it since the day I met you,” he continues, his eyes boring into yours as if he’s trying to imprint this moment into his memory, to make you feel the weight of his confession. “But I made a mistake. Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life, and I know that now. I’ve known it every single day since. And that—” his voice cracks, and he looks away for a brief moment, as if he can’t bear to see the pain on your face—“that is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

The sincerity in his voice sends a fresh wave of agony crashing through you. You want to scream at him, to tell him that it’s too late, that he’s made his choice, and there’s no going back now. But the words get caught in your throat, choking you, leaving you gasping for breath. Because as much as you want to deny it, as much as you want to hate him, there’s still a part of you—deep down—that wants to believe him. That wants to believe you’ve always been the one, that he’s just as haunted by the loss as you are.

But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s made his choice. He’s with someone else now, someone who gets to have the version of him you once dreamed of, someone who’s standing by his side while you’re left picking up the pieces of what could have been. And that reality cuts through you like a knife, leaving you reeling.

“I wish that mattered,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible, each word a struggle as you force yourself to look him in the eyes. The storm of emotions churning within you feels like it might tear you apart from the inside, but you need him to hear this, to understand the depth of the pain he’s caused. “But it doesn’t change anything, Rafe. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re engaged to someone else, and I’m just… supposed to accept that.” Your voice breaks on the last word, the sound coming out fractured and hollow.

Rafe’s expression drops, and for the first time, you see something close to genuine despair flicker across his face. His blue eyes, which once held a spark of recklessness and life, now look empty, consumed by a dark realization. It’s as if he’s seeing the full weight of his choices for the first time, the horrifying dread of what he’s done sinking in like a stone dropped into still water. You can see the exact moment it hits him—the gravity of the mistake he’s made.

When he proposed to Sofia, he thought he was finally getting his life together. After years of chaos and self-destruction, he believed he was taking a step towards stability, towards becoming the man he always felt he needed to be. He convinced himself that this was the right path, that Sofia was the safe choice—the one who could ground him, the one who would stand by him through thick and thin. But now, standing in front of you, seeing the devastation in your eyes and hearing the brokenness in your voice, he realizes the truth he’s been running from all along.

He’s made a grave mistake—one he can’t undo.

The realization tears through him like a knife, and his knees nearly buckle under the weight of it. He looks at you with a mix of horror and regret, his face pale, his eyes glassy as if he’s about to crumble right then and there. He reaches out a hand, hesitating, his fingers trembling as if he’s afraid to touch you, afraid that this might be the last time he ever gets the chance.

“Y/N…” he breathes out your name, his voice breaking on the syllable. He looks utterly lost, like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into the abyss. “I—” His words falter, and he closes his eyes, a shaky exhale escaping his lips. When he opens them again, they’re filled with a sorrow so deep it takes your breath away. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was finally getting my life together. But I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.”

You shake your head, feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces. His confession feels like a dagger twisting in your chest, confirming what you’d feared all along—that he never truly let you go, that you weren’t just imagining the way he used to look at you, the connection that lingered despite the time and distance.

“But you chose her,” you whisper, your voice laced with a bitter sadness. “You chose her over me, Rafe. And now you’re standing here, telling me this as if it changes anything. But it doesn’t. It’s too late.”

The words hang between you like a death sentence, and you can see it in his eyes—the crushing realization that he’s lost you for good, that this is the consequence of his choices. The haunting realization that he’ll have to live with this regret, this aching emptiness, for the rest of his life.

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #obx 4

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csuitebitches · 2 months ago

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How to emotionally regulate yourself

so. You find yourself getting upset or angry or guilty over something. Negative emotions don’t feel the most comfortable, do they? They feel almost physically uncomfortable, sometimes painful. You wish you could block them out immediately but it’s impossible. Even if you try to ignore them, they somehow bounce back in your face.

what we’re not taught from a young age is emotion regulation. We are, in the end, only human. Its part of our nature to screw up, make mistakes and do things at times that we’re not supposed to.

bottling away feelings does no good - not to yourself and not to those who care about you.

so the next time you find yourself feeling emotionally imbalanced, take a look at this framework and work it out!

#strong women #personal growth #that girl #ceo aesthetic #c suite #productivity #balance #getting your life together #powerful woman #Emotional regulation #how to regulate #Emotions #emotionally balanced

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loserboysandlithium · 6 months ago

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Sexual Healing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Reader faking an orgasm with Eddie because she’s too in her head and her anxiety is through the roof. Eddie notices and helps ground her in a very unique way.

18+ minors dni, explicit sexual content, mentions of anxiety and using the five senses to ground yourself

****

“Did you just... did you just fake it?” Eddie’s eyes go wide as you toss your head back into the pillow with a groan.

“Did it not feel good? Was I doing something wrong?” Eddie asks, his fingers trailing up and down your arm lightly.

“It’s not you, baby.” you sigh, peeking at him through your lashes. “I’m just in my head. Too many thoughts.. I don’t know. I’m sorry baby.” you whisper, embarrassment creeping up quickly.

“You don’t need to be sorry, sweetheart. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he presses gently.

“Just too much.” you reply, shutting your eyes once again. You hated when your brain got like this. So many thoughts. So many emotions. Just so fucking much. You just wanted to turn them all off.

You suddenly feel Eddie’s body weight on top of you. An instant calm rushing over you. Not fully quieting the thoughts, but pushing them further away. You open your eyes to see his deep brown ones looking at you carefully.

“Stay right here. Don’t move!” he grins before jumping off of you. Your body feels empty again, the bad thoughts clawing their way back in immediately. You just want to scream at them to shut up. You can feel the bubbles in your chest building and building like a soda bottle that’s been shaken up, just waiting to explode.

You hear something in the distance. You know it’s Eddie’s record player but it sounds so far away, your thoughts louder than anything else in this moment.

The lights shut off, only the flicker of a candle illuminating the room. And then you feel him again. His soft skin on yours. The beautiful feeling of his body pressing you into the mattress.

He leans down, his soft lips barely brushing yours before moving to your cheek. Soft kisses until his lips meet your ear. “Close your eyes, sweet girl.” he breathes, his voice soothing and warm.

You allow your eyes to fall shut once again, listening to Eddie’s instructions. “What do you feel baby?” he mumbles into your neck as he continues planting wet kisses up and down.

“Y-your lips.”

“And how does it feel?”

“Feels so good, Eddie.” you breathe, doing your best to focus on the feeling of his lips sucking your soft skin.

“Mmm, and what do you hear?”

“Music… Marvin Gaye. You hate Marvin Gaye, baby.”

“Mhmm, but you don’t.” he chuckles against your lips before kissing you once again.

His kiss is harder this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth, urgent but also very delicate. You focus on his kiss. Feeling his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, whimpering as he pulls away.

“What do you taste?”

“Weed. Camel blues and… jolly ranchers?” you giggle as he sticks his tongue out, a light blue from the candy coating the entire thing.

“Blue raspberry.” he smiles before he starts to move lower. His lips travel across your breasts, small kisses before his lips wrap around your nipple, gently sucking. You let out a soft moan as you reach out, running your fingers through his curls.

“What do you smell, baby?” he continues his efforts to bring you back to the present moment.

“Pine trees. The candle I bought you for your birthday.” you answer as his lips work even lower.

“Good girl.” Eddie winks up at you, making your stomach flip.

You feel his large hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing your legs apart, pressing a kiss to the top of your pussy. You let out a soft moan in response. You realize you can hear the music now, louder than before. Actually hearing the words.

Oh I can tell you, darling, that it's sexual healing.

“And what do you see, sweetheart?” Eddie soothes, dipping his tongue inside, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit and back again.

“You baby, only you.” you whimper. Eddie’s plan to ground you had worked perfectly. The only thing on your mind was him. The pleasure you were receiving below.

His lips wrap around your clit, tugging the sensitive bud into his mouth over and over making your moans grow louder.

You grip his curls, shoving his face deeper into your cunt making him moan into you. You can feel how wet you are, all of your worries floating away with every flick of his tongue.

He switches his tempo, taking his time, his tongue seeming to reach every part of you as he laps at your soaked pussy. Long strokes up and down before he’s shoving it as deep as possible making your back arch.

“Yes, baby. Fuck yes.” you encourage him to fuck you with his tongue. His nose brushes against your clit perfectly as he darts his tongue in and out of you. You can feel it twisting and swirling around, being coated with your slick as he watches your pretty face.

You begin bucking your hips, grinding your pussy on his face. His thick fingers dig into your skin as he allows you to use him for your pleasure. “Don’t stop until you cum, baby. Ride my fucking face.” he groans before he’s back between your thighs.

You don’t even know what part of him is inside you at this point, what’s rubbing against your clit so deliciously. His nose, his chin, his tongue. It didn’t matter, it all felt so good.

Your eyes are shut tight as both hands cling to his hair, your hips rutting up against him desperately. Filthy moans and cries pour from your lips as you cover Eddie with your wet pussy.

“Gonna cum.. Eddie I’m gonna cum.” you cry out, feeling his hands on your ass, helping you as you practically hump is face. Eddie’s moans are audible even with his mouth working hard to bring you to your peak.

Your voice cracks, a strangled moan forcing its way from your throat as you feel your body let go. All the built up tension breaking free, leaving your body in a way you didn’t expect.

You hips jolt against Eddie’s face a few more times as he does his best to lap up your cum. You can feel it running down your ass, a sticky sweet mess.

Your back falls back to the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Eddie’s tongue cleaning up your mess, his lips kissing the insides of your thighs before pressing one last kiss to your swollen clit.

“Holy shit.” you giggle as he comes back up to meet your eyes.

“Feel better?” he grins, his face glistening from his job well done.

“So much better.” you breathe, pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself all over his tongue. “And thank you, baby.”

“For what?” Eddie murmurs as he buries his face in your neck.

“For always grounding me.”

“I love you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you so much, Eds.” you smile up at him. “By the way, I’m telling all your friends you fucked me to Marvin Gaye.”

“You wouldn’t.” Eddie gasps dramatically, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Oh but I would.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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lovscb97 · 3 months ago

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tags: park sunghoon x fem!reader, established relationship, size kink, strength kink, bulge kink, d/s dynamics, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (plz don’t), breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink?, nicknames (baby, princess, angel, hoonie, etc), slight fluff, lowkey pwp, reader is described to be shorter than hoon and is easy to pick up/throw around, reader is also very down bad for him (aren’t we all), etc

wc: 2.67k

add. notes: hoon won the poll i put out so i present to u my first ever enha work :3 thank u very much to everyone who voted n this will def not be the last enha fic i put out so do not worry there is much to come for hyung line!!! also icon creds to @/v4mpjay :3

. . .

sunghoon doesn’t know how much longer he can take this.

it all started when he began going to the gym regularly, slowly bulking his figure up and feeling himself grow out in his clothes. what used to be his lanky frame that greeted him in the mirror gradually turned into a built man with lean muscles and sharper features, adding to what was already there initially. it wasn’t like this wasn’t what he wanted though, albeit the entire reason why he even started working out in the first place being to improve his health and build better habits for himself, but the outcome wasn’t too bad in itself. he got used to feeling stronger, more lighter on his feet or less out of breath when he climbed the stairs, and it was enjoyable to know that he could lift twice his weight and still feel good as new. in some way, things felt like they were going swell.

that is, until you came into the picture.

now, sunghoon’s always known that you’re small compared to him. even when standing side by side, his height next to yours is a little laughable, though he supposes you’re used to that considering you’ve always been shorter than most of your peers. he’s well aware of how you have to go on your tippy-toes when you guys kiss, and the soft feel of your little hands in his is something that spins in his mind constantly when your fingers lace together. it doesn’t help that you always ask him to fetch your favourite mug from the top cabinet too, his larger physique towering over yours each time he leans over from behind you. he likes to tease you about it, revelling in the way you pout cutely back at him whenever he makes fun of you jokingly despite the small smile playing at your lips, but little do you know about the twisted fantasies breaching his thoughts every moment you spend together. he wonders if you would be disgusted? would you dump him and tell all your friends about what a creepy loser he was? sunghoon can’t help but imagine the worst case scenario, and it would be easy to bury these emotions down the hatchet had it not been for the fact that he’s started to think he is going mad too.

every time sunghoon comes home from the gym, every time he enters your shared apartment, sweat dripping down his forehead and his water-bottle empty, he swears on his dead grandmother that you start checking him out. it doesn’t help that he's always been attentive either, always needlessly easy at picking up the cues of your discomfort when you're outside in a social space for too long, or being able to tell instantly when you're anything other than the happy go lucky girlfriend he usually sees you as. so, when your lingering gaze begins to trail across his arms a little too long whenever he passes your shared bedroom on his way to the shower, or when your mouth opens and closes to swallow before you're pressing your thighs together subtly each time he moves to wipe himself down each time he’s home— it all sparks something in him. it told him to finally, finally indulge in the nasty thoughts he’s kept tucked away to himself once and for all.

except he doesn’t. because at the end of the day, sunghoon is a gentleman. he pulls open the doors for you with nonchalance written all over him despite his burning ears, and he brings you back your memorised coffee order alongside a few sweet treats when he knows you’re on your period. he holds you close when you’re asleep in bed together, rubbing a gentle thumb against the skin of your cheek because he’s aware that’s what it takes for you to fall asleep, and makes sure you know he’s always going to be there for you in any time of need, even if he’s a thousand miles away. he’s never once made you doubt him, never once given you any reason to suspect he could be anything beyond the perfect, storybook written boyfriend he’s always been.

until today, at least.

it was a day like any other, a day where you wouldn’t have expected things to take the turn they took at all. you and sunghoon were tangled up in your lavender sheets with your leg thrown over his, the morning sun streaming through the beige curtains you’d picked out on your ikea date together, and no alarms were intact to disturb you as it was the weekend. that’s probably why you both found yourselves in your current situation, your mouths meeting sloppily for short kisses and your boyfriend’s cock buried to the hilt inside you, thrusting ever so gently every other second as he whispered sweet praises to you between the meshing of your lips. the only sounds heard beyond the chirping of the birds outside your window were your soft moans and his low grunts, alongside the quiet noises of your slick dragging against his dick.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good.” sunghoon mumbles, pressing gentle smooches along the skin of your chin and jaw. you reply back something unintelligible, too lost in the euphoria he’s providing you to even form a coherent answer, which only makes him chuckle. he pulls back to admire your figure underneath him, a smile spreading across his lip at the sight of you laid out oh so pretty and pliant just for him. for him. all for his use. his use and his use only. the eventual thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and sunghoon momentarily slows down his movements in fear he’ll accidentally lose control of himself and fuck you into the sheets. his loss of momentum causes you to whine out loud though, large doe eyes blinking up at him in wonder, almost as if asking what happened, which does not make your boyfriend’s job any easier.

“hoonie, faster.” you beg softly, one hand coming up to grip his shoulder as the other bundles up the duvet underneath you. “please, wan’ it so bad.” sunghoon feels like his resolve is on the brink of snapping at your words, and he quickly resumes his previous pace (albeit still slower than what you wanted but better nonetheless) with gritted teeth, trying to think of something, anything that would distract him from the realisation of how fucking small you look under him, or how soft your hand feels resting on his skin. it doesn’t help that the sounds spewing from your lips are so cute, only spurring him on further to do what he longs to.

“yeah, angel? want it faster? want hoonie to fuck you deeper?” he groans out instead, biting his lip at the sight of you nodding almost instantly to his words. your hole clenches even tighter around him as he speaks to you, and he shudders at the sensation. “shit, don’t do that, princess. might cum too quickly.” he exhales shakily, confused when you shake your head. “don’t care. cum f’me. wanna feel it, please.” you plead almost instantly without thinking, sunghoon’s eyes darkening as the request leaves your mouth. his pace comes to an immediate halt after that, and you make a noise of complaint at the loss of pleasure in your lower region, legs kicking up slightly in protest as you eye your boyfriend who’s currently trying to compose himself above you.

“don’t.. don’t say stuff like that.” sunghoon sighs, eyes closed shut as you cock your head to the side. you’re about to ask him why when he speaks up again. “i won’t be able to hold myself back if you do.” he professes darkly, opening his orbs back up to look deep into yours, his smouldering gaze making you shiver. you involuntary tighten around him at his confession, and he hisses at the feeling, head snapping to look down at you and the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“i-i don’t.. don’t want you to hold back.” you mutter whilst looking away meekly before he can even comment on your actions. you meet his stare again after a beat of silence, but there’s something dark and sinister swimming in it now, and by the time you can even process what it is, he’s suddenly sheathing himself back into your warm walls, plowing into you with a heightened pace as if this is the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you. your moans tumble out of your mouth before you can even stop them, and you swear you hear sunghoon growl at the way you keen from his movements.

“yeah? don’t want me to hold back? want me to absolutely destroy this wet cunt with my cock? ruin it for everybody else and mould it to the shape of my dick?” he grunts, a smirk spread across his face as you wildly nod at his words. “what, too fucked out to speak now, baby? where’s that confidence from before, hm?” you whimper at his condescending tone, the noise travelling straight to his core as he curses, continuing to plunge himself deep into you. the tip of his cock brushes against that spongey spot inside you, and you cry out when he angles his thrusts to hit it each time he drives inside your pussy.

“who knew you were such a slut, huh baby? tell me, how long have you wanted me to spread you open and fuck you like i hated you?” sunghoon pants, tongue lolling out to lick at the sweat gathering on your neck. “s-so long, hoonie!” you mewl in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bites down on your skin. “wanted you to— hnng, wanted you to bend me over and throw me around so bad!” sunghoon laughs breathlessly at your answer.

“yeah, pretty? want me to use my big arms and toss you onto the bed? you should’ve told me sooner that you were such a whore.” you clench at the degrading name, and sunghoon almost stumbles into you at the sudden jolt of shock. “would’ve done everything you wanted me to. wanted it just as bad as you, did ya know that?” he grits out, pace unrelenting and unforgiving as he proceeds to pound into you. “you’re so fucking small, baby. makes me so goddamn hard every time i think about it. just want to, oh fuck— want to hold you down and make you take it.”

“do it! do it, hoonie, please do it! make me take it, i wan’ take it for you.” you sob, and sunghoon physically feels the last of his self restrain break in half. he’s far too fucked out now to go back to his old ways, far too gone in the dizziness of making you feel good. his only goal now is to make you cum violently around him, and he’ll stop at nothing to achieve that. “gonna do it, baby. just wait, gonna fuck you so dumb, you’ll be begging me to stop.” he pauses momentarily to grab at the plush of your thigh and tosses your leg over his shoulder, resuming his past actions in the blink of an eye as you cry out at the change. he hits deeper, more harsh this way, and you swear you can feel him battering your cervix with each thrust delivered to your abused cunt.

“fuck, look at that.” sunghoon laughs in disbelief, his eyes fixed on the slightly evident bulge of his cock thrusting in and out of you in your stomach. “taking my cock so well, princess. you gonna cum for me soon, yeah? gonna cum for hoonie and make a mess of me?” he coos at the way you’re drooling, swiping a thumb up to wipe at the spit leaking out of your mouth before sucking it off, the visual of it only making you whine even more. by now, the bed is stained with your leaking arousal, but neither of you care, especially not when he involuntarily moves his hand to press down on your stomach. his movements only cause you to double over in pleasure, and before either of you know it, you’re shaking through an orgasm, thrashing and wailing as tears stream down your face.

“shit, shit, shit! that’s so hot, oh fuck.” sunghoon moans. “you did so well, angel. did so fucking good for me, you deserve a reward, don’t you? don’t you, my baby?” he rambles, and you whine in overstimulation as his thrusts grow more frantic and misplaced when he begins chasing his own release. “get ready, princess, ‘m gonna fill you up. gonna breed you so, so good and make you take it, yeah? you’ll take it, won’t you? take it so good for me like you always do.” by this point, you’re both trembling and whining out loud, sunghoon pistoning his hips into you as he desperately fixes to cum. he can feel the pressure building up, his balls tightening with each harsh thrust he delivers inside of you, and you’re more than ready to feel him ooze out of you, encouraging words spilling from your lips.

“do it, hoonie! do it, please! make me full and fuck it back into me. i’ll take it so good, so good, please baby, please.” you’re babbling by now, too fucked out to think let alone speak, but your words seem to send sunghoon over the edge because by the time you’re even halfway through your sentence, he’s shooting ropes inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. there’s so much of it that it almost leaks out despite his cock keeping you plugged up, and you watch his beautiful face contort in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and eyes clenched shut as he continues filling you up.

“fuck..” sunghoon sighs out once he’s come down from his high, looking down to grip his cock and pull it out slightly only to push it back in when your cunt gushes with his release, causing him to bite his lip at the sinful sight. you whine when he moves back into you, his large arms caging your smaller frame in as he leans down to pepper salty kisses all over your face. “my good girl.” he whispers, slightly collapsing on top of you to catch his breath. his weight on you feels comforting, almost natural as you wrap your tired arms around his back tightly, pressing your bodies together even more than they already are to feel closer and connected to him.

“i didn’t know you were into that.” sunghoon speaks up after a moment of silence, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. he moves so he’s laying on his side, cock still keeping you plugged up despite the awkward position. “into what?” he deadpans at your reaction, and you giggle. “c’mon, babe. you can’t seriously look like that and expect me to not be feral for you.” you smile, and sunghoon huffs out a laugh, spooning an arm around you as he pulls your body closer to his warm one. “still, who knew my girl was so freaky?” you swat at him, and his chest rumbles with laughter, the sound sending an odd pool of warmth flowing through your chest. you both lay there in silence after that, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the serenity and afterglow which comes from what was quite literally the best sex of your lives.

“i love you.” you hear sunghoon mumble suddenly, his voice drowsy as he yawns cutely, a large grin spreading on your face at the simple three words which leave him. you reach out for his hand, lacing your small fingers in it before bringing it up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the back. “love you more, hoonie.” you sigh out in satisfaction, eyes slipping shut slowly as sleep welcomes your tired senses.

you gradually drift off, thoughts filled with sweet dreams of your boyfriend and his precious laughter.

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

#✰ sunny's oneshots!#park sunghoon #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut #sunghoon

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itaipava · 3 months ago

Text

— f1 boys and the moment they go “fuck it”

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

you’re both a little drunk, but sober enough to know what you’re doing. he loves testing your limits, so he makes a bet with you over something trivial, promising a “prize” if you win. when you win and smile victoriously, he laughs and says, “i guess i owe you something special, right?” you nod, ready to receive whatever it is. he leans in, eyes shining, and whispers, “i hope this counts,” before giving you a kiss that feels playful and intense at the same time.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

you’ve always had a fun friendship, where you could joke around and have fun with each other all the time, and tonight was no different. you’ve been teasing him all night, playfully testing his limits. he’s been patient, smiling, until you say something that pushes him over the edge, “oh you want to kiss me so bad right now,” you say playfully as he wouldn’t stop looking at your lips. he looks serious for a moment and you think he doesn’t like what you said, but he just gets even closer, his voice low and intense, “you have no idea how much,” before leaning in and kissing you, finally giving in to what he’s wanted for so long.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

you're alone in your room while music plays. you thought you were alone and he was in the living room, but he was silently watching you sway, mesmerized. he always admired you from afar and never hid it, but at that moment, something changes inside him like never before. he thought a lot before doing it, but it was only when he stopped thinking that he finally did it: he approaches, puts a hand on your waist and, without saying a word, pulls you close, holding you as if you were the only two people in the world. you were startled by his sudden attitude, but you quickly melted in his arms as he hugged you and pulled you even closer to him while your lips were danced together.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

you’d never argued before, but at that moment, your nerves were on edge; you were both frustrated with each other. the room fell silent as the tension shifted, and he was staring at you, breathless. you tried to look away from him, but something about him held you back; he was a mess. suddenly, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken emotions between you, finally letting everything that had been bottled up come out.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he watches you from afar as you talk and laugh with another guy, and even though he knows he has no claim, it still stirs something primal in him; he just couldn't stop staring at you, and you noticed it. later, when you're alone, you tease him about it and ask him why he couldn't stop looking at you like that. he knows you were having fun with the situation, but he wasn't. you thought it was no big deal, but for him it changed everything. "i hated seeing you with someone else," he finally admits, serious as he stares at you. you look at him for a few seconds and smile, he smiles back and takes your face, finally kissing you - and claiming you his.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

it’s late and you’re saying goodbye after spending the whole day together; he loves being with you, but he hates the time to say goodbye. it feels like time passes so quickly with you but so painfully slowly when you’re apart. he also knows that you hate goodbyes, so you’re lingering at the door, neither wanting to part. he takes your hand, holding it a little tighter, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “maybe… i don’t want to say goodbye yet,” he says and his eyes shine at you. he leans in, finally pressing his lips to yours as he places his hand on the back of your neck and the other on your waist.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

it’s late and you’re both tired from the party you just attended. people have started to leave, but you’re too busy with each other to care. you’re in the garden of the huge house, sitting on the grass and admiring the stars. he looks at you laughing at something he told you, your voice soft and open, and something inside him snaps. his heart starts to beat faster as he’s mesmerized by you. he blurts out, “sorry, i can’t pretend anymore,” and pulls you closer to him, his hands shaking with anticipation and desire as he finally takes your face carefully and kisses you, completely melting into the taste of you.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

he loves listening to you and always listens attentively. but lately he hasn't been able to hold himself back: whenever you start talking, he has to look away or think about something else, because he's on the verge of finally giving in to you. you have a surprising effect on him that he's never felt before, and today was no different: while you're talking, he suddenly goes quiet, his eyes fixed on yours with an intense gaze. "sorry," he murmurs, "i know you're saying something important, but i just… i can't concentrate when you're so close." he's also surprised by what he just said, but he doesn't wait for an answer, pulling you into that kiss he's been holding back for so, so long.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

you’re both running to take cover from an unexpected downpour, and you’re both soaking wet, laughing and out of breath. he looks at you, hair drenched and eyes shining as you laugh, and realizes he can’t contain himself anymore. you’re the most beautiful and charming person he’s ever met in his life, and he can’t hide it anymore. he’s afraid of losing you; of losing the opportunity to finally be with you. so, without saying a word, he gently caresses your cheek and smiles with you before pulling you into a passionate kiss, with the rain running down both of you. in that moment, he felt like he was floating. in that moment, nothing else mattered, it was just you and him in the world.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #george russell fluff #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #liam lawson x reader #liam lawson imagine #oscar piastri imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #charles leclerc imagine

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solxamber · 16 days ago

Note

'Elloo! :D I saw your requests open, can I request some hcs or short imagines for the first, second, and third years, separate characters?? Or you can just do it as a single scenario with all the characters. They're (Their??) reaction when they've realized the things reader/Yuu had to go through starting from the very beginning ,when they first got transported to the school. Like, the shock of not being able to go home, new environment, the fear-- just the emotional and mental turmoil reader/yuu went through starting from the beginning.

Also, as time goes by it just gets worse and worse along with all the overblots and stuff that got reader/Yuu over the edge. And now the students kind of help?? Or at least try to soothe or comfort the reader I guess??

Does this make any sense?? I dunno :'D

I want me some angst hehe >:]

But if this is kind of too much then it's okii if you wanna skip this one, I love the effort you put into your writings! <3

I kinda just wanted to ramble and yap about this idea I had hehe

Toodles!

thank you!! and i'm sorry it too so long, but i hope you like it <3

They realise what you went through - All NRC + Rollo + Neige + Grim, Staff

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle doesn’t realize the extent of your struggle until much later, likely after witnessing you reach your breaking point. The way you bottle up your emotions reminds him of himself before his own overblot, and it fills him with guilt. He prides himself on upholding order, but he feels like he failed to notice the chaos within you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Riddle asks, voice trembling as he stands before you, his normally stern expression soft with regret. He places a hesitant hand on your shoulder, unsure if he has the right to offer comfort after overlooking your pain for so long. “I… I should have noticed. I’m sorry.”

Riddle dives into a methodical plan to ease your burdens. He takes on your academic concerns, ensuring your assignments are manageable and offering personal tutoring. When you’re overwhelmed, he insists you take breaks in Heartslabyul’s peaceful rose garden. While he’s not good at openly expressing affection, he’s steadfast, always by your side with words of encouragement and warm tea.

Trey Clover

Trey picks up on your struggles sooner than most, his observant nature allowing him to notice the small cracks in your demeanor. He doesn’t pry but stays close, offering quiet support until he realizes you’re beyond your limit. His heart aches knowing you’ve been carrying so much without asking for help.

“Hey… you don’t have to pretend everything’s fine,” Trey says softly, kneeling beside you as you sit slumped in an empty classroom. His usual calm demeanor is tinged with concern. “I’ve seen you pushing yourself too hard. You’re not alone in this, you know.”

Trey becomes your sanctuary. He’s the type to cook comforting meals for you, often sneaking you your favorite desserts. He encourages you to talk at your own pace, listening without judgment. Trey also ensures you’re surrounded by people who care, gently urging you to spend time with friends so you never feel isolated again.

Cater Diamond

Cater doesn’t fully realize how bad things are until he catches you breaking down when you think no one is watching. The sight hits him hard—he’s used to wearing masks himself, but seeing you put on a brave face while falling apart reminds him of his own struggles.

“Whoa, hey, hey…” Cater’s voice is unusually soft as he crouches in front of you, the playful lilt replaced with genuine worry. “You’ve been holding all this in, haven’t you? Man, that’s not healthy… You should’ve told me!”

Cater becomes your cheerleader, using his energy to lift your spirits. He takes you on spontaneous outings, distracting you with fun activities and selfies to remind you of life’s lighter side. When you need to vent, he’s surprisingly patient, letting you talk without interruptions. His go-to phrase becomes, “No filter, just let it out. I’m here.”

Ace Trappola

Ace is the last to understand the depth of your pain, brushing off your struggles as stress until you finally snap. Seeing you cry or lash out leaves him dumbstruck—he’s not used to serious emotions and struggles to process it at first. But beneath his awkwardness, he genuinely cares.

“Whoa… I didn’t think it was this bad.” Ace rubs the back of his neck, guilt clear in his expression. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things worse. I didn’t mean to. I just… didn’t know.”

Ace sticks close to you in his own Ace-like way. He cracks jokes to make you laugh and distracts you with playful banter, but he’s also there for the serious moments. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, he drags you outside to play a quick game of basketball or to look at the stars, insisting, “You’ve gotta clear your head, or you’ll go crazy.”

Deuce Spade

Deuce notices your struggles but doesn’t know how to approach you about them. When he finally sees you crumble, it makes him feel like he’s failed as your friend. His protective instincts kick in, and he becomes determined to help you in any way he can.

“Wait—you’ve been feeling like this the whole time?” Deuce’s voice is thick with emotion as he looks at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something! I’m supposed to have your back!”

Deuce takes your well-being seriously, to the point of overcompensating at first. He insists on walking you to class, carrying your things, and defending you against anything he perceives as a threat (real or imagined). Over time, he learns to provide quiet support, sitting with you during tough moments and saying, “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is a perceptive man, even if he acts otherwise, but your struggles slip under his radar for too long. It isn’t until he notices how you’ve stopped rising to his teasing or how the light in your eyes has dimmed that the gravity of your situation hits him. It reminds him of his own sense of isolation, and the guilt gnaws at him.

“Tch. You think you’re the only one who has to deal with this crap?” Leona’s voice is gruff, but there’s no malice in it. He sighs, sitting beside you under the shade of a tree. “You should’ve said something sooner, herbivore. Doesn’t mean you have to carry it all yourself.”

Leona doesn’t coddle you, but his actions speak louder than his words. He offers his presence, silently inviting you to nap in the botanical gardens with him when you need a break. If anyone dares to make your life harder, Leona handles it with a quiet, lethal efficiency. “Rest up. You’re not falling apart on my watch.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie notices your struggles quickly, but his initial reaction is to brush it off as normal stress—until he sees you genuinely hit your breaking point. It stuns him; he’s used to dealing with hardships himself but hates the idea of you enduring the same without support.

“Oi, don’t do this to yourself,” Ruggie says, his usual playful tone replaced by something softer. “You’re not alone, y’know? I don’t let my people suffer in silence. That’s not how we roll.”

Ruggie uses his resourcefulness to lighten your load however he can. He sneaks you snacks, takes care of tedious tasks for you, and even makes you laugh with his sharp wit. When you’re overwhelmed, he shares stories of his struggles to show you that it’s okay to lean on others. “You’ve got me, okay? I’ll make sure you’re okay, promise.”

Jack Howl

Jack notices the signs of your stress early on, but he hesitates to bring it up, unsure if it’s his place. When he finally realizes how deeply you’re struggling, it stirs a protective instinct in him, and he immediately resolves to do whatever it takes to help you.

“You should’ve told me,” Jack says, his voice low and filled with regret. His ears twitch as he glances away, guilt etched across his face. “I could’ve helped. You don’t have to do this on your own anymore.”

Jack becomes your steadfast support, encouraging you to exercise or go for runs to clear your mind. He’s a calming presence, offering quiet companionship when words aren’t enough. “You’re strong, but you don’t always have to be. Let me help carry the weight, okay?”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prides himself on noticing vulnerabilities in others, but your ability to mask your pain throws him off. When the cracks finally show, it shakes him deeply, reminding him of his own insecurities and the times he felt powerless.

“I didn’t realize…” Azul murmurs, his hands wringing nervously as he looks at you with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I should have seen it. I’m sorry—for everything. Let me help you now.”

Azul’s approach is practical and calculated, but it’s rooted in genuine care. He offers to take over responsibilities or negotiate solutions to ease your stress. When you’re overwhelmed, he’s unexpectedly tender, sitting with you in his VIP room and reminding you, “Even the strongest need someone to lean on. You’ve been there for others; let us be here for you.”

Jade Leech

Jade notices your struggles early but refrains from intervening, assuming you’ll reach out when you’re ready. When he realizes how much you’ve been bottling up, he’s surprised and slightly guilty for not addressing it sooner.

“My, you’ve been carrying quite the burden,” Jade says, his usual calm tinged with regret. “It seems I underestimated just how much you’ve endured. Forgive my oversight.”

Jade is a master of subtlety, offering comfort in ways that feel natural and unintrusive. He invites you on quiet walks through the woods, using the serene atmosphere to help ease your mind. When words are needed, he listens attentively, his soothing voice offering reassurance. “Do not hesitate to lean on me, should you need support. I’ll always be here.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd doesn’t realize how bad things are until you completely snap, and even then, it takes him a moment to process that your outburst isn’t just a temporary mood. Seeing you so broken flips a switch in him, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness.

“Shrimpy, why didn’t you say anything?” Floyd’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, his sharp eyes scanning your face. He pouts, but there’s no mischief in it—just genuine concern. “You don’t gotta handle everything alone, y’know?”

Floyd sticks to you like glue, his unpredictable nature becoming a strange source of comfort. He drags you out for spontaneous adventures, insisting that fun will help you feel better. When you’re feeling low, he’s surprisingly gentle, wrapping you in a tight hug and muttering, “I gotcha, Shrimpy. Nobody’s messin’ with you while I’m here.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is always full of energy and positivity, so it takes him a while to notice the depths of your struggles. When he does, he’s devastated, blaming himself for not seeing it sooner.

“Wait—you’ve been feeling like this?” Kalim’s eyes widen, tears threatening to spill. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something to help!”

Kalim does everything in his power to brighten your days. He showers you with gifts, invites you to lively parties, and insists on spending time together to lift your spirits. When he realizes that quiet support means more than grand gestures, he sits with you, holding your hand. “You’re not alone, okay? I’ll always be here for you.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil is highly observant, and while he notices your struggles early on, he assumes you’re managing on your own until he sees how much you’ve truly endured. It reminds him of his own bottled-up frustrations, and guilt eats at him for not acting sooner.

“...I should’ve known,” Jamil mutters, his voice low and filled with regret. He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I’ve been through this too. I know what it’s like to feel trapped. I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner.”

Jamil’s care comes in quiet, thoughtful gestures. He prepares your favorite meals, arranges peaceful moments away from the chaos of NRC, and ensures you never feel overwhelmed alone. “You’ve done more than enough. Let me take care of things for a while.”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil’s sharp eyes catch the signs of your struggles quickly, but he initially brushes them off, believing you’ll overcome them like any challenge. When the full weight of your burden becomes clear, he’s horrified and deeply regretful for not intervening sooner.

“I failed to notice something so glaringly obvious,” Vil says, his tone laced with self-reproach. “That’s not acceptable—not as your friend and certainly not as someone who should’ve supported you better.”

Vil approaches your comfort with precision and care, determined to help you regain your footing. He insists on self-care days, encourages you to vent your frustrations, and teaches you grounding techniques. “You’re stronger than you think, but even the strongest need rest. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Rook Hunt

Rook is attuned to the emotions of those around him, and your pain does not escape his notice. He marvels at your resilience but is deeply saddened that you’ve been enduring so much without seeking help.

“Mon cher trésor, your suffering… it pains me to think I let you endure this alone,” Rook says softly, his gaze earnest. “You’ve carried a weight that no one should bear by themselves. Allow me to lighten your burden.”

Rook’s support is poetic and heartfelt, crafting moments of beauty to remind you of the world’s wonders. Whether it’s a bouquet of flowers, a handwritten letter, or a quiet moment under the stars, he ensures you feel cherished. “You are not alone in this grand stage of life, and I shall remain by your side as your steadfast ally.”

Epel Felmier

Epel is initially too caught up in his own frustrations to notice the extent of your struggles, but once he sees you falter, his protective side kicks in. It reminds him of his own insecurities about being underestimated.

“Aw, geez, why didn’t ya say somethin’?” Epel frowns, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’re always lookin’ out for us, but ya never let anyone do the same for you. That ain’t fair.”

Epel takes a straightforward approach, offering to help however he can. He sticks close, ensuring you never feel alone, and encourages you to vent when needed. “You’re tough as nails, but that doesn’t mean you gotta do it all by yourself. We’re a team, remember?”

Idia Shroud

Idia is slow to notice your struggles, being so wrapped up in his own world, but when he realizes the extent of your pain, it hits him hard. He sees a reflection of his own struggles in you and feels immense guilt for not seeing it sooner.

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” Idia mumbles, his voice trembling. His hair dims as he nervously fiddles with his tablet. “I should’ve… I don’t know, paid more attention. I’m sorry. I—I wanna help, if you’ll let me.”

Idia comforts you in his own awkward way, creating a safe space where you can relax without judgment. He shares his favorite games, shows, and quiet moments, offering you an escape from the chaos. “You don’t have to be ‘okay’ all the time. Just… take it easy for now. I’m here if you need me.”

Ortho Shroud

Ortho is one of the first to notice your struggles, his advanced sensors picking up on changes in your emotional and physical state. His concern is immediate, and he wastes no time in seeking to help.

“You’ve been so sad for so long, haven’t you?” Ortho’s voice is soft, as he hovers close. “I wish I could’ve made you smile sooner. I’m sorry you’ve been hurting.”

Ortho’s comfort is warm and reassuring, filled with optimism and boundless energy. He’s always ready with encouraging words, small gifts, or simply a cheerful presence to brighten your day. “You’re not alone! I’ll do everything I can to help you feel better, okay?”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus has always sensed something amiss about your emotions, his acute sensitivity to auras making it impossible for him to overlook your struggles. However, he hesitates to approach, fearing he might overstep or worsen your burdens. When he finally understands the depth of your pain, he is both heartbroken and determined to help.

“You’ve been enduring this in silence?” His deep voice is laced with regret as his green eyes soften. “If only I had been more attentive, perhaps I could have eased your pain.”

Malleus ensures you feel his unwavering support. He invites you for peaceful strolls under the stars, shares his favorite quiet spots, and reassures you with his calming presence. “You are precious to me. Whatever darkness surrounds you, I will remain by your side until the light returns.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia has lived long enough to recognize the signs of emotional turmoil, and it pains him to see you suffer. While he often masks his seriousness with cheerfulness, he doesn’t hesitate to step in when he sees you reaching your breaking point.

“Oh, little one, you’ve carried such a heavy heart all this time.” His playful demeanor fades into solemnity as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

Lilia comforts you with wisdom and warmth, drawing on centuries of experience. He shares stories to make you laugh, cooks (albeit questionable) meals to distract you, and offers sage advice when you’re ready to talk. “Life’s trials are harsh, but you’re stronger than you know. And if you need someone to lean on, I’ll always be here.”

Silver

Silver is observant despite his drowsy nature, and he’s one of the first to notice your growing exhaustion. When he realizes the extent of your suffering, he feels deeply remorseful for not acting sooner.

“I should have seen this sooner,” Silver says quietly, his tone filled with regret. “You’ve always looked out for others… I should’ve done the same for you.”

Silver stays by your side, offering silent, steady support. He doesn’t push you to talk but is always ready to listen when you’re ready. His calm demeanor helps ground you, and he often sits quietly with you under a tree or by a calm lake. “You’re not alone. I’ll protect you—not just from danger, but from this weight you’re carrying.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek’s initial reaction is frustration—not at you, but at himself for failing to notice your struggles while being so focused on Malleus. His loyalty shifts into overdrive as he becomes determined to help you.

“You’ve been struggling this much, and I didn’t see it?!” Sebek’s voice is loud, but there’s a rare softness in his expression. “That is… unacceptable. I failed you as a companion.”

Sebek’s attempts to comfort you are a bit clumsy but heartfelt. He insists on helping you with daily tasks and loudly declares his commitment to your well-being. Despite his rough edges, his sincerity shines through. “Know this: I will not allow you to suffer alone any longer. You have my loyalty, now and always.”

Rollo Flamme

Rollo’s disdain for magic only deepens when he realizes how much you’ve suffered due to the chaos and overblots of NRC. His concern for you is genuine, though it’s laced with anger toward the school and its culture.

“This place… It’s a cesspool of disorder and harm,” Rollo says, his voice cold yet trembling with suppressed emotion. “You’ve been caught in its web for too long. You deserve better.”

Rollo’s comfort is practical and protective. He tries to create a sense of normalcy for you, offering quiet, structured moments away from the chaos. His words are sharp but sincere. “You deserve a life of peace and stability. If you can’t find it here, I’ll do what I can to give it to you.”

Neige LeBlanche

Neige is quick to notice your distress, his naturally empathetic nature making him keenly aware of your struggles. He’s horrified to think of you enduring so much alone and wants to do everything in his power to make you smile again.

“Oh no… You’ve been feeling like this?” Neige’s voice is soft, his eyes brimming with concern. “You don’t deserve to carry such sadness by yourself.”

Neige’s comfort is gentle and uplifting. He sings for you, offers kind words, and encourages you to express your feelings without fear. “You’re so strong, but you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to let someone take care of you for a change.”

Grim

Grim initially doesn’t notice your struggles, his focus often on his own ambitions and mischief. When he finally realizes how much you’ve been enduring, he feels both guilt and panic.

“Hey… You’re not okay, are ya?” Grim’s ears droop as he looks up at you, his voice unusually soft. “Why didn’t ya tell me? I—I’m supposed to be your partner!”

Grim becomes fiercely protective, sticking by your side at all times. He tries to cheer you up with his antics and insists on being your “emotional support boss.” “You’re stuck with me, got it? So don’t go actin’ like you’re all alone. I won’t let ya.”

Staff:

Crowley

Crowley prides himself on being the "benevolent" headmaster, but when he realizes how much you’ve suffered under his care—or lack thereof—he’s struck by a rare pang of guilt. While he’s not one to admit fault outright, he becomes visibly uncomfortable with the weight of his oversight.

“My dear, you’ve been carrying all of this on your shoulders?” His dramatic flair falters for a moment, his usual exuberance replaced with awkward sincerity. “I… suppose I may have been a tad neglectful in ensuring your well-being.”

Crowley tries to make amends in his own roundabout way, offering resources, extended accommodations, or attempting to be more attentive (though his efforts are often misguided). “Rest assured, I shall personally oversee that you are well cared for! You have my full support—within reason, of course.”

Divus Crewel

Crewel is not one to tolerate weakness, but when he sees the toll everything has taken on you, his stern demeanor softens. He’s the type to take immediate, no-nonsense action to ensure you’re taken care of.

“You’ve let it get this bad without saying a word?” His sharp tone is laced with frustration, but his eyes betray his concern. “Pup, I thought I taught you better than to carry burdens alone.”

Crewel’s approach is practical yet caring. He insists you rest, brings you comforting meals, and ensures you know you’re valued. “You’re stronger than you think, but even the strongest need support. Lean on me, pup. I’ll make sure you’re back to full strength in no time.”

Mozus Trein

Trein is a man of wisdom and observation. He likely noticed your struggles but respected your space, waiting for the right time to step in. When he realizes the full extent of your distress, he feels deep regret for not intervening sooner.

“I should have addressed this earlier.” His voice is steady but tinged with remorse. “You’ve faced more challenges than any student should. It’s a testament to your resilience, but it shouldn’t have come to this.”

Trein offers gentle guidance, providing stability and reassurance. He shares stories of his own trials and reminds you that even the hardest times pass. “Life is fraught with difficulties, but you’ve shown remarkable courage. Allow others to help shoulder the burden—you need not face this alone.”

Ashton Vargas

Vargas isn’t the most emotionally perceptive, but when it finally clicks that you’re struggling, he’s hit with a wave of guilt. He immediately shifts gears, trading his usual boisterousness for genuine concern.

“Whoa… I had no idea it was this bad,” Vargas says, his brows furrowed in concern. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I would’ve helped in a heartbeat!”

Vargas focuses on physical activity as a form of comfort, encouraging you to blow off steam in healthy ways. He also offers constant positive reinforcement. “You’re tough, kid, but even the toughest need a break. Let’s get some fresh air and clear your head—you’ve got this!”

Sam

Sam has always been attuned to the emotions of others, so when he realizes the depth of your struggles, he feels a pang of regret for not stepping in sooner. His usual upbeat demeanor becomes tinged with quiet sympathy.

“Well, well… Looks like someone’s been carrying more than their fair share.” His voice is soft, his usual grin replaced with a concerned expression. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Sam provides comfort through small but meaningful gestures, like preparing your favorite treats or giving you space to talk. He reassures you with his calming presence and wise words. “Don’t keep it bottled up, friend. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s valid. I’m here to help you through it.”

Masterlist

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yeostinys · 4 months ago

Text

Cry For Me

Pairing: DomCEO!Hongjoong x SubSecretary!Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, slight angst, PWP, Office!AU

Notes: Cheating (don’t do it yall. this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (wrap it up!!! do not try this irl, it is pure fantasy!), explicit language, dacryphilia kink, humiliation, degrading, power fixation, Hongjoong lowkey manipulates (but for the better ig lol)

Word Count: 13k (condensed some ideas to bring down the word count LOL)

Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3

———————————————————————

As you stepped into your apartment, the night sky cast a deep blue glow through the windows, shimmering like a vast ocean. The warm glow of the sensor lights flickered on, illuminating the entryway and casting soft shadows on the walls. You paused for a moment, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips, echoing in the stillness of the room.

It was the fifth time this month that your boyfriend had canceled on you, and each time felt like another nail in the coffin of what once seemed like a blossoming romance. The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, making each step toward the kitchen feel more burdensome than the last.

With a determined resolve, you made your way to the fridge, the familiar chill greeting you as you opened the door. Your fingers closed around a half-filled bottle of wine, the label slightly crumpled from the many times it had been hastily put back. You pulled it out, and reached for a glass. You stare blankly as you poured the wine, watching as the dark liquid rose to the rim, glistening in the soft light. Without hesitation, you brought it to your lips, taking a few deep gulps, each swallow both comforting and numbing. As the warmth spread through you, tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, a familiar sensation that you had tried so hard to push away.

The memories of the past 2 years flooded back—Siwoo’s laughter, the shared moments that now felt like distant echoes. But lately, he had become a stranger, his warmth replaced by an impenetrable distance. You had tried to reach out, to bridge the growing gap, but each time ended in disappointment. Now, standing in your quiet apartment, you felt a profound sense of loss that had settled deep within you, leaving you feeling numb, as if you were merely going through the motions of life without truly living it.

You quickly wiped your tears away, the salty tracks on your cheeks feeling foreign yet familiar. With each brush of your fingers, the sadness that had threatened to overwhelm you twisted into something sharper—anger.

*Ding.*

The sudden sound pulled your attention away from your thoughts. You turned your head toward your phone, its screen lighting up with a notification. The sight of Siwoo's name, accompanied by a little heart, made your heart sink further.

Siwoo <3: I’m sorry I cancelled again. Please don’t hate me. I’ll see you on your lunch tomorrow.

You stared at the message, the words blurring momentarily as your vision wavered. Another empty promise. With a shaky hand, you raised your glass to your lips, the bitter taste of the wine filling your mouth as you took another long gulp. It was a poor substitute for the warmth you once felt from Siwoo's presence.

You couldn't bring yourself to respond—not now. You needed a few moments to gather your swirling emotions, to avoid lashing out with the hurt and anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The silence of the apartment enveloped you, amplifying your racing thoughts and making the weight of his message all the more suffocating.

Once you finished the rest of the wine bottle, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease just a fraction. You turned away from your phone, not wanting to see another message or another reminder of the chasm that seemed to grow between you. With heavy steps, you made your way to the bedroom.

You plopped down onto the bed, the soft sheets cradling you in their embrace. As your body sank into the mattress, fatigue overtook you, pulling you into a deep slumber. In the quiet darkness, you hoped for dreams that could somehow soothe the ache in your heart, if only for a little while.

———

The next day dawned with a muted light filtering through the curtains, the world outside still waking up. You rolled over, disoriented for a moment, before the reality of the day ahead crashed over you. With a groan, you pushed yourself up, the remnants of last night’s indulgence weighing heavily in your mind.

As you shuffled to the bathroom, the headache from downing that last glass of wine throbbed at your temples, a persistent reminder of your restless night. You cursed under your breath, regretting the decision to finish the bottle in a moment of vulnerability.

You quickly went through the motions of your morning routine. Your job as the secretary for one of the most well-known CEOs in the Creative Arts Institution required precision and poise, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that had kept you up late. You dressed in a tailored blouse and a pencil skirt, the fabric smoothing against your skin as you adjusted the collar. The mirror reflected a professional exterior, yet you felt anything but composed inside.

After applying a touch of makeup to mask the fatigue in your eyes, you gathered your things—laptop, planner, and the ever-essential cup of coffee that awaited you in the kitchen.

———

As you step into the tall building, the morning sun filters through the glass façade, casting geometric shadows across the polished marble lobby. The familiar bustle of your colleagues greets you, their voices merging with the gentle hum of fluorescent lights. You nod and smile as you greet in response. You make your way to the elevator, its silver doors glinting in the light. Pressing the button for the top floor, you mentally prepare for the day ahead, trying not to show your exhausted emotions, mentally and physically. When the doors slide open, you step into the expansive hallway lined with art. At the end of the corridor, you enter the grand office door. You walk to the enormous desk adorned with a gold plaque that reads “CEO Kim Hongjoong” and set down the iced Americano you picked up on your way in. You reach into your tote bag and retrieve a neatly organized file folder. Flipping it open, you scan through today’s itinerary, noting the key meetings and tasks that lie ahead. Once satisfied with your briefing, you close the folder and return it to your bag. You head to the front desk positioned just outside the CEO's office, and begin your morning tasks. Every day in the office has settled into a rhythm, a familiar routine that feels almost automatic.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” “Hello, Mr. Kim!” The greetings echo as your colleagues bow slightly, their respect palpable.

You rise from your chair, straightening your blouse, and offer a nonchalant nod, masking the exhaustion lingering just beneath the surface.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you say as you bow, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Hongjoong approaches, his expression warm yet focused.

“Hello, Y/N. Have you prepared everything for today’s schedule?” he asks, moving past you toward his office.

“Yes, you have a meeting in an hour with a client…” you begin to relay the itinerary, following him inside. He settles into his chair, taking a sip of the Americano and nods in response.

“Also, I dealt with the complaints from the last exhibition. Everything’s been taken care of, just like you wanted,” you add, your tone casual, though the weight of your own issues tugs at your thoughts. Hongjoong looks up, a smile breaking across his face.

“That’s why I have you as my secretary, Miss Y/N. Thank you so much.”

You nod, the compliment momentarily brightening your mood, but it’s fleeting. You bow again before slipping out of the office. As the door closes behind you, you take a deep breath, pushing the worries from your relationship to the back of your mind, ready to tackle the day ahead with practiced indifference.

Throughout the morning, you flit in and out of meetings, accompanying Hongjoong as he navigates a flurry of tasks. The office is a hive of activity, and you move seamlessly between conversations, taking notes and organizing files, but the weight of your personal life hangs heavy in the back of your mind.

You glance at the clock on your desk: just thirty minutes until your hour break. A sigh escapes your lips, and you reach for your phone, hesitating. Siwoo’s message sits unread, a lingering question mark in your thoughts. You know you should respond, but the uncertainty of his invitation makes you hesitate. Is it pettiness that keeps you from reaching out, or a defense mechanism to shield your heart from further pain? You shake off the intrusive thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand.

*Ding.* Your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. It’s another message from Siwoo.

Siwoo <3: I won’t be able to make it today. Something came up at work. Sorry.

You scoff under your breath, a bitter taste filling your mouth. His absence stings, but you’ve braced yourself for this—after all, it’s become a pattern.

Just then, Hongjoong’s voice crackles through the telephone intercom on your desk, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. “Miss Y/N, please come to my office.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, rising from your seat with a practiced smile as you make your way into his office.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Kim?” you ask, your tone polite, carefully masking the frustration beneath the surface from Siwoo’s message.

Hongjoong leans back in his chair, his expression serious.

“I know you have your hour break in twenty minutes, but I just got off the phone with a potential client. They want to meet over lunch in a few minutes, and I need you to tag along to take notes. If you can wait on your break for another hour, I’ll cover your meal if you accompany me now.”

His words feel more like an instruction than a request, and you nod in response, pushing your personal frustrations aside.

“Of course, sir. Shall I call the chauffeur now?”

“No need,” he replies, grabbing his briefcase. “We’ll take my vehicle. I’ll drive.”

You nod and follow Hongjoong out of the building.

You settled into the passenger seat next to Hongjoong, the sleek interior of the car enveloping you. The rhythmic clicking of the turn signal punctuated the silence, while the soft murmur of the news on the radio served as a gentle backdrop.

“Miss Y/N, is everything alright?” Hongjoong's voice cut through the quiet, steady and attentive. You turned to him, slightly taken aback by his directness.

“Y-Yes, sir. What makes you concerned?” you replied, a hint of surprise coloring your voice. His eyes remained fixed on the road, focused yet perceptive.

“My top employee—my secretary—has been unusually quiet lately. You seem a bit off,” he remarked, expertly navigating the car into a parking lot. His concern was genuine, and you felt a flutter of warmth at his attention.

“I apologize if I gave that impression today, sir. I assure you, I’m alright,” you replied, straightening in your seat, trying to project confidence. Hongjoong parked the car and turned to face you, his expression serious.

“Y/N, I’m not just talking about today. You’ve been like this for a few days now. I don’t want to pry, but if something is bothering you, please let me know. You never slack off—well, not that I’ve noticed—but you’re a vital part of our team. If you’re not at your best, it affects us all, especially me. Let’s tackle any issues together, professionally.” His words carried a weight of understanding that took you by surprise.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.

“I… I apologize, sir. It’s just some personal issues in my relationship. I promise I won’t let it interfere with my work,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. You feared that honesty might blur the lines of your professional relationship.

Hongjoong regarded you with a thoughtful expression, his brow slightly furrowing. “Problems in your relationship?” he asked gently. You nodded, keeping your head bowed.

“Yes. I appreciate you asking,” you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude mixed with apprehension.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, his tone shifting back to his usual professional demeanor. “Let’s get to work.”

The next hour unfolded at a high-end restaurant, its luxurious ambiance creating the perfect setting for a business meeting. You sat next to Hongjoong, across from two potential clients, the atmosphere charged with opportunity. As they discussed plans for an upcoming exhibition, you diligently took notes, your mind sharpening as you transitioned into your role.

Hongjoong exuded charisma, ordering champagne and an array of exquisite appetizers while skillfully guiding the conversation. You admired the way he balanced authority with approachability, creating an atmosphere of collaboration.

———

As promised, Hongjoong granted you your hour break once you both returned to the office. The day had been packed with meetings and conversations, but you had already eaten at the restaurant, so instead of lingering in the bustling atmosphere of the office, you decided to find solace on the rooftop.

Ascending to the rooftop, you pushed open the heavy door, the cool air hitting your face like a refreshing wave. You walked over to one of the bistro tables, the metal surface gleaming under the midday sun. You sank into one of the chairs, letting out a deep sigh that released the pent-up stress from the morning. In your left hand, you cradled an iced Americano to keep you alert. In your right, you held your phone, its screen illuminating your face as you contemplated the text messages from Siwoo.

He should be off work by now, you thought, scrolling through the thread of messages. You hesitated, biting your lip, unsure of how to approach him. The uncertainty had lingered in your mind for days, and it felt like a weight on your chest. After a moment’s deliberation, you resolved to take initiative and give him a call.

You tapped his name, and set the phone on speaker. As the phone rang, the sound echoed in the serene space around you. It rang for what felt like an eternity until finally, you heard his voice on the other end, slightly breathless.

“H-hello? Y/N?” Siwoo stuttered, his tone hesitant.

“Siwoo, what are you doing?” you asked, trying to sound calm, though your heart raced with anticipation.

“Mmm, n-nothing much, just working out. I-I went to the gym after work,” he replied, punctuating his words with a grunt that surprised you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Since when did he ever work out?

You decided to push forward, hoping to reconnect. “Do you want to come over tonight? I’ll make dinner,” you offered, softening your voice as if trying to coax him back into your world.

“A-ahh, probably not tonight. I have to finish some work at h-home,” he stuttered again, his voice strained, as though he were struggling for breath.

Disappointment settled in your stomach, but you pressed on. “I can come over then, yeah? I’ll make you your favorite dish?” You mentally kicked yourself for even suggesting it, a flicker of doubt reminding you of all the times he had flaked out before.

“N-no, Y/N. I-It’s okay. A-ahh!” Siwoo grunted loudly, and a chill ran through you at the sound.

“Siwoo, what’s going on?!” You raised your voice slightly, urgency creeping in.

“I told you, Y/N. I’m working out. We can’t see each other tonight; I’m busy. I have to go,” he snapped, the finality in his tone cutting through the air like a knife. The line went dead, leaving you with only the echo of his voice. Your heart sank, a familiar ache running within you.

You stared at the phone in disbelief, the cool metal suddenly feeling heavy in your hand. How could he do this again? A mix of frustration and sadness swirled in your chest, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it did little to quell the rising tide of emotions.

——

You glance at the small digits on your screen, the glowing numbers reading 8:00 PM. Your shift officially ended thirty minutes ago, but here you sat, a blend of dedication and denial keeping you tethered to your desk. Guilt washed over you, a stark reminder of Hongjoong’s earlier words. There was no point in heading home, not when the weight of unfinished tasks bore down on you. The quiet of your apartment would only invite sorrow, while the office, though nearly deserted, offered a comforting distraction.

The atmosphere had shifted; the energy of the day had given way to silence as colleagues trickled out, exchanging soft goodbyes. Each farewell came with a gentle reminder not to work too hard, and you managed a smile, masking the turmoil brewing inside you. Once they departed, you returned your focus to the glowing screen, rifling through files and diligently noting necessary information, your fingers a blur over the keyboard.

A flicker of light caught your eye—a warm streaming light from Hongjoong’s office. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity; you’d assumed he had left an hour ago. Shaking off the thoughts that threatened to wander, you turned back to your work.

“Y/N?” Hongjoong’s voice broke through your concentration. You looked up at him through your rectangular glasses that rested on your face. He cut an impressive figure, dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and a black vest that accentuated his shoulders.(What the fuck Y/N; he’s your boss.) You mentally scolded yourself, attempting to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts.

“O-Oh, yes sir?” you replied, setting your pen down on the desk.

“Your shift ended an hour ago. Why are you still here?” His brow arched in genuine curiosity, his tone both commanding and concerned.

“I’m just catching up on some work, sir. I apologize. I’ll be heading home soon,” you replied, striving for composure even as nerves danced in your stomach.

“Y/N, come to my office,” he said, his calm demeanor masking the authority in his request. You hesitated, uncertainty creeping in. Why did he want to speak in private, especially when the office was nearly empty?

Despite your reservations, you take off your glasses frames, place them on your desk and follow him into his office. The door clicking shut behind you, a sound that felt like a declaration. The dim light cast long shadows, enveloping the room. He sits at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed.

“What’s going on in your relationship?” Hongjoong asked, his tone direct yet oddly informal. The question hung in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned. Your eyes widened, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck.

“Sir, I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about personal matters at work…” you managed to reply, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you avoided his gaze.

“It’s after work hours, Y/N. You can speak comfortably,” he said, his voice calm and soothing, yet imbued with a sharpness that conveyed he was not one to be easily dismissed. “I can tell something is wrong.”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it difficult to formulate a response. A swirl of emotions crashed over you—fear of crossing professional boundaries mixed with the realization that perhaps he genuinely wanted to connect with you on a deeper level. Colleagues had often joked about how you and Hongjoong were like a married couple at work, a notion you had always brushed aside. The title felt cliché, almost childish, and you had preferred to maintain a strictly professional atmosphere.

But as you looked at him, a flicker of understanding passed between you. Maybe he wasn’t just playing the role of the CEO tonight. Perhaps he truly wanted to understand what you were going through. You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you considered opening up.

“We have… just been distant lately,” you say hesitantly, the words slipping out with reluctance. “Our schedules don’t seem to be aligning, and our communication is off. That is all, sir.” You glance at him, searching for a response.

He hums thoughtfully, nodding in acknowledgment. “Shall I… cut your hours? Maybe find a second secretary to fill in while you get to spend more time with your significant other?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, yet there was an undercurrent of seriousness that sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

“N-no, sir!” The words escaped your lips almost too hastily, an instinctive reaction that made you feel slightly embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckled, his head lowering momentarily before he lifted it again, locking eyes with you.

“So, is it his schedule that’s not cooperating with yours?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded in silence, the weight of your emotions pressing down as you considered the truth behind your answer.

“Mm… interesting.” Hongjoong tapped his chin thoughtfully, the wheels of his mind clearly turning. Curiosity prickled at you; what was going through his head? You couldn’t help but wonder about the direction this conversation was taking.

“Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what does your partner do for a living?” he asked, his tone calm and inviting.

“He’s a professor at the university located downtown,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret.

“A professor?” Hongjoong mused, a hint of skepticism coloring his tone. “I doubt their schedules are that busy compared to yours—a full-time secretary for a well-known company.” He dropped his hands into his pockets, his gaze intent and probing.

“Are you sure you should be concerned about his schedule? Maybe… it’s something more?” Hongjoong added nonchalantly, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the seriousness of his implication.

You felt a wave of confusion wash over you. What was he suggesting? Your mind raced, trying to decipher his words. Was he implying that the distance in your relationship could be rooted in something deeper than just busy schedules? The thought unsettled you, but a part of you was intrigued by his concern. You hesitated, caught in a web of uncertainty as you considered how to respond.

“I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir…” you murmured, your gaze dropping to your black heels, the polished tips reflecting the dim light of the office.

“Come here, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice a blend of softness and authority that sent a shiver down your spine. Almost instinctively, you found your feet moving toward him, the rhythmic click of your pumps echoing softly against the floor as you approached. You stopped just in front of his black loafers, your heart racing in your chest.

“Closer,” he instructed, his voice lowering, deepening with an intensity that made you catch your breath. You stepped forward, positioning yourself between his slightly parted legs, the air thick with unspoken tension.

His hand reached out, a gentle yet firm grasp settling on your waist. You gasped in shock, the unexpected warmth of his touch flooding through you. This is wrong, you thought, panic stirring within, but something deeper held you in place, a pull that made it difficult to consider pulling away. Instead, you stood there, caught in a moment that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Maybe…” Hongjoong began, his thumb rubbing softly against the fabric of your blouse, the gentle motion both soothing and unsettling.

“your partner is being unfaithful…?” The words hung heavy in the air, a sentence that felt like a blade slicing through your gut.

A part of you recoiled at the thought, refusing to believe it. Yet, as you stood there, something nagged at you, a whisper of doubt that you couldn’t shake. The realization that he might be right crept in like a shadow, darkening your thoughts. Stupidly, your heart leaped to defend Siwoo, the man you cared for, even as uncertainty gnawed at you.

“Mr. Kim, I don’t appreciate you assuming that,” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared between the gap of Hongjoong’s legs that revealed the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You don’t know our relationship, so please do not accuse him of such acts…” you added, your tone a fragile mixture of firmness and vulnerability. As the words left your lips, you felt your eyes begin to well with tears, confusion and anger swirling within you. You trusted Siwoo; you had to. But the doubts Hongjoong had planted took root, and you didn’t understand why he was suddenly acting like this.

You wanted to leave, to escape the charged atmosphere and the unsettling intimacy of the moment, but your feet remained stuck to the floor. Deep down, beneath the rising tide of panic, you recognized that you craved the odd comfort Hongjoong provided, a warmth that felt so different from the turmoil in your heart.

Suddenly, a whimper escaped your lips, a sound that surprised you as tears began to cascade down your cheeks, dropping onto Hongjoong’s lap.

“Oh, baby…” Hongjoong cooed, his voice laced with a tenderness. You gasped at the sudden pet name. With a gentle yet deliberate movement, his unoccupied hand reached toward your face, lifting your chin slightly so that he could wipe away the tears that streamed relentlessly down. Your eyes however, still refusing to look at him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and your heart raced at the intimacy of the moment.

“You defend him, yet you’re crying,” he observed, his voice low and soothing, but his words only added to the turmoil within you. It was as if he could see right through the facade you had tried to maintain. As his hand, previously resting on your waist, moved to the other side of your face, you felt the weight of his palms cupping your cheeks, an act of reassurance that both calmed and stirred your emotions.

“Look at me, Y/N” Hongjoong softly demands. Your pretty eyes look at him. Sparkling from the tears that are still streaming down your face slowly. Hongjoong bit his lip, fighting to maintain his composure, though he couldn’t help but think how fucken pretty you look when you cried… how vulnerable.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” he continued, his tone tender yet firm. “It was unprofessional of me. I was just trying to express my concerns.” His fingers brushed against your skin as he gently cupped your face, his thumbs softly stroking away the remnants of your tears. “I don’t want to see you cry anymore, okay?”

Confusion swirled within you, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. What was Hongjoong doing? His touch sent conflicting signals through your mind, making it hard to decipher the intentions behind his kindness. You felt your heart race as he held your gaze, searching for answers that remained elusive.

“Let me take you home. It’s getting late.” He reluctantly withdrew his hands, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. Hongjoong lightly tapped your waist,

“Okay?” he asked again, his voice softening as he sought your approval. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you looked into his eyes, those doe-like orbs filled with an innocence that belied the complexities of your situation. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, each moment stretching out as you found solace in his presence, even amidst the confusion.

———

The car glided smoothly along the quiet streets, the only sounds breaking the stillness were the gentle notes floating from the radio and the rhythmic tapping of Hongjoong’s fingers on the steering wheel. Each beat resonated with the unspoken tension lingering between you, a subtle backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your mind.

As the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, you felt a mix of relief and reluctance. The evening air was cool against your skin as you unbuckled your seatbelt and gathered your bags, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing your head slightly, unable to meet his gaze. It was a gesture of politeness, but it felt more like a shield, protecting you from the warmth of his soft smile that you could sense even without looking.

“No worries, Miss Y/N. I’ll see you Monday,” he replied, his voice soft but filled with an unshakeable confidence. You heard the warmth in his tone, even as you turned away and walked towards the entrance of your apartment building, his farewell echoing in your ears.

The elevator ride felt interminable as you ascended to your floor, each ding of the buttons amplifying the heaviness in your chest. Finally, you stepped into your small apartment, the familiar space offering little comfort. You dragged your feet toward your room, exhaustion pulling you down, both physically and emotionally.

Once inside, you kicked off your heels, the sharp clack against the floor a welcome relief. You stripped off your clothes with a mindless haste, leaving only your undergarments as you collapsed onto your bed. The cool sheets enveloped you, but they couldn’t ease the confusion swirling in your thoughts.

With a deep, resigned sigh, you sank into the mattress, your mind replaying fragments of your conversation with Hongjoong.

In a moment of desperation, you reached for your phone, dialing Siwoo’s number. The ringing felt like an eternity, and when it went to voicemail, a knot tightened in your stomach. You glanced at the clock—10 PM. Another attempt led to the same unyielding voicemail. Frustration filled within you, mixing with a pang of anxiety that settled in your chest.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The coolness of the room contrasted sharply with the heat of your thoughts. Slowly, memories of Hongjoong flooded your mind—his perfect figure leaning casually against the desk, his strong hand lingering on your arm, the gentle caress of his fingers against your face.

Your heart ached, not for Siwoo, but for Hongjoong. You suddenly craved his comforting and reassuring voice. His lingering touch on your skin. Your legs close together as you feel a wave of warmth between your thighs. Your hands moved down your soft skin, reaching towards your heat…

You gasp softly, shaking your head, trying to dismiss these feelings. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Hongjoong is your Boss. And plus you have Siwoo. Your… loving boyfriend.

The weight of silence wraps around you like a thick fog, pressing down on your chest as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. You can’t shake the feeling that these spiraling thoughts. In frustration you convince yourself that you’re probably just deprived of touch from your significant other.

With sudden resolve, you push yourself up from the tangled sheets, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine, and head towards the bathroom. Turning on the water, you let your thoughts drown in the hot water. Making your way back to your room, you slowly dry off and change into pajamas.

As your head hits the pillow, a sense of calm envelops you, pulling you into a deep slumber. The world outside fades, and for the first time in ages, you allow yourself to drift away, hoping that tomorrow will bring a spark of connection back into your life.

———

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across your home office. You’re working from home today, since Hongjoong isn’t in office on the weekends. You sat your desk with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in your hands, you let the aroma fill your senses, the rich, dark liquid fueling your focus as your fingers typing across the keyboard.

The rhythmic sound of your typing created a serene atmosphere until it was interrupted by a sharp buzz from the apartment door.

Setting your coffee down, you pushed back your chair and stood, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, you swung it open, and your heart dropped. Standing there, looking both sheepish and regretful, was Siwoo, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

“Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry for flaking out on you so many times,” he said with a fake pout.

A year ago, you would have melted at this display. You might have accepted his half-assed apology with a smile, the flowers a token of his remorse. But today, your mind raced with reminders of all the times he had done this before. The constant stand-ups, the empty promises, the fleeting moments of connection overshadowed by disappointment.

Your heart ached, not with the sweet pang of love but with the heavy weight of frustration. You stood there, staring at him, emotions swirling within you like a storm. Hurt and upset battled against the tenderness that still lingered for him. You could feel the walls you had carefully built in the past months tightening around you, whispering that this was a cycle you were tired of repeating.

But your heart, foolishly hopeful, betrayed you. Before you could think it through, you found yourself reaching for the bouquet, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh blooms. Then, without a second thought, you pulled him into a tight embrace. As his arms wrapped around you, the familiar warmth flooded back, and you felt your resolve waver.

In that moment, you wanted to believe that this time would be different. Yet beneath the surface, a deeper ache throbbed—a desperate question lingered in your mind: why do you keep doing this to me?

As the hours unfolded, Siwoo settled into a chair across from your desk, his laptop open and papers scattered around him. The familiar hum of shared work surrounded you, a scene that once brought you joy. He would glance up occasionally, flashing you a smile that was meant to soothe the tension in the air. Yet, despite the comforting proximity, your heart was locked in a battle against the memories of hurt he had inflicted upon you.

You tried to push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the tasks at hand. Still, they lingered like unwelcome shadows, flitting in and out of your consciousness. Each time Siwoo laughed at something on his screen or leaned back with a satisfied sigh, a part of you wanted to bask in the moment, to let yourself feel the happiness he once brought. But the other part—a weary, wiser part—reminded you of the countless times he had let you down.

Your mind already flooded with so many issues, decided to remind you of last night’s conversation with Hongjoong—the way he spoke to you, his touch… The longing for deeper connections hung heavily on your mind, teasing you with confusion.

You caught Siwoo watching you, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice breaking through your reverie.

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, just thinking about work.”

———

Throughout the day, with Siwoo at your side, a disquieting realization settled in your chest: you felt less like his girlfriend and more like a maid. He moved to lounge in your living room, casually asking for snacks and drinks while you sat at your desk, trying to concentrate on your work. Each request chipped away at your patience, drawing a line between the intimate moments you once cherished and the mundane reality of this interaction.

Glancing over, you caught sight of him: relaxed, almost carefree, tapping away on his phone with a soft laugh escaping his lips. Maybe it was Hongjoong’s words playing tricks on you, but a knot twisted in your stomach as you watched Siwoo, feeling an unfamiliar ick wash over you. It felt as though he was taking advantage of your hospitality, oblivious to the growing frustration bubbling within you.

“Oh, Y/N, can I borrow some money?” Siwoo asked, his voice casual, his eyes glued to the screen as he continued to chuckle at whatever amused him.

“May I ask why?” You replied softly, a frown creasing your brow as confusion settled in.

“I need to buy new materials for work. It’s required for all professors, and I’m just short by a few bucks,” he explained, his gaze still firmly fixed on his phone.

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. “Doesn’t the university cover materials for professors?”

“Mmm, not this time. Please?” he said, finally looking up at you, his irritating smile brightening his face as if he expected you to fold under the charm.

Taking a deep breath, you felt the tension in your chest tighten, but you nodded anyway, wiring him a sum that was likely more than he needed. Maybe it was an act of guilt or an old habit of wanting to keep the peace.

“Thanks, honey. You’re the best!” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. The grin on his face widened as he returned to his phone, engrossed once more in whatever had captured his attention.

“Y—you’re leaving so soon?” The words spilled out before you could stop them, a mix of desperation and disappointment. “I’m almost done with work. Let’s have dinner…”

He turned to you, his expression unchanged. “Maybe another day, Y/N. I have to head back to the campus.”

With that, he walked out without a backward glance, leaving you standing there, a swirl of emotions crashing against one another. As the door clicked shut, the weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart, mingling with the irritation that had been building all day.

——

The weekend slipped away in a blur, its fleeting hours vanishing like sand through fingers. As you stepped into the office on Monday morning, you glanced around the workspace, filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the faint rustle of papers, and realized you wanted to be here. The thought of Hongjoong entered your mind unbidden. You couldn’t help but remember the conversations that had left you feeling confused but wanting more.

But you quickly pushed those thoughts aside, chastising yourself. This wasn’t the time for daydreams. You were his secretary, bound by professional decorum. It was crucial to maintain composure, to focus on your tasks and responsibilities. After all, any semblance of personal feelings could only complicate matters.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you said, bowing slightly from your desk as he entered his office, and you follow behind him. The air felt charged with unspoken tension, a remnant of the incident that had unfolded just days prior, a moment you both seemed to ignore.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N,” Hongjoong replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he settled into his chair behind the desk. His eyes flickered momentarily to the iced Americano you had picked up for him earlier, the cool condensation glistening against the glass.

“What is the schedule for today?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed, but you could sense the sharpness in his gaze as it remained fixed on you.

Clearing your throat, you began to relay the day’s itinerary, focusing intently on your notes. “We have the marketing meeting at ten, followed by the conference call with the investors at noon.” You spoke steadily, but your heart raced, memories of that night creeping back into your mind—a fleeting brush of his hands, the way his gaze had pierced through the façade of professionalism.

Hongjoong listened, nodding occasionally, but there was an air of distraction about him, too. He was acting as if nothing had happened, and you were determined to do the same, though it felt like walking a tightrope. You maintained your composure, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady and professional as you continued.

His expression remained neutral, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between you. You stole a glance at him, noting how the light caught the edges of his features, the way he effortlessly commanded the space around him.

“And finally,” you added, pushing the memories further down, “we have a team meeting at four to discuss the new project timeline.”

As you finished, a heavy silence settled in the room, punctuated only by the soft sound of his drink being set down on the desk. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of the unacknowledged moment hanging in the air. “Thank you, Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice smooth as he rose from his chair. The brief moment of gratitude hung in the air between you, creating a small, intimate space in an otherwise professional atmosphere. You bowed slightly in acknowledgment, the familiar gesture a part of your daily routine, before you turned on your heels, ready to leave the room.

“Wait a moment,” he called out just as you reached the door. You paused, your heart skipping a beat, then turned back to face him.

“Yes, sir?” you replied, your voice steady but your mind racing.

“How are you doing?” he asked, the question casual yet layered with an unexpected warmth. The simplicity of it took you aback, a small flicker of surprise igniting within you.

“I—I’m well, sir. Thank you for asking.” You stumbled over your words slightly, an involuntary shyness creeping in. “How about you?” You returned the question out of politeness.

“That’s good to hear, Y/N,” he replied, his soft smile breaking through the formalities and lighting up the room. “I’m doing fine as well.”

You nodded, the warmth of his expression lingering in the air as you took in the moment. “I’ll get back to my work then,” you said, turning once more to leave.

As you stepped out of his office, the door closing softly behind you, you made your way back to your desk, the echo of his words and that fleeting smile still resonating within you.

——

Once you stepped out of Hongjoong’s office, he sank back into his chair, the weight of the world settling on his shoulders as his thoughts turned inward, swirling around you. He couldn’t deny the fondness he felt. From the moment you had started working as his secretary, you had made it clear that you were in a serious relationship. He respected your loyalty, admired it even, but it didn’t erase the growing complexity of his own feelings for you.

As he gazed out the window, memories flooded back, particularly the recent lunch meeting on Friday. You had accompanied him at the last minute, and during the drive, when you admitted to him about your relationship struggles. The admission struck him deeply—he felt a flicker of triumph at your honesty, a selfish part of him celebrating. Yet, mingled with that spark was a simmering anger; the man you were with was clearly causing you distress.

After returning to the office, you took your promised hour break, and Hongjoong found himself drawn to the rooftop. He hadn’t intended to pry; he simply wanted to offer words of encouragement, to lift your spirits. But as he approached, he overheard your phone ring and the familiar cadence of your voice pick up the call. A sinking feeling took root in his stomach when he recognized the voice on the other end—Siwoo, your boyfriend.

He paused at the steel door, unable to resist the urge to listen. Siwoo’s breathless tone was unmistakable, the hurried speech revealing more than mere exertion from a workout. Hongjoong's heart raced as he deduced the truth— Any man would know, this was not the voice of a faithful partner. The realization struck him like a punch; this man had the audacity to take your call while clearly entangled in something inappropriate.

A rush of guilt washed over him as he retreated to his office, grappling with the anger that grew beneath the surface. How could someone hurt you, an innocent, kind, and beautiful person? He felt torn, wanting to protect you while recognizing the boundaries he had vowed to uphold.

In the hours that followed, a storm of thoughts brewed within him. It was reckless, perhaps, but the idea of bringing you into his office after hours began to take root. He wanted to voice his concerns casually. But when you began to softly cry, that’s when he felt the line blur. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your pretty doe-like eyes glistening with unshed tears— (fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking like that).

Hongjoong pulled back from his reminiscent thoughts, deciding it was best to let you navigate this situation on your own. Maybe you would uncover the truth about Siwoo, perhaps the pieces would fall into place. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, and as he sat in his office, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could contain his feelings, how much longer he could remain a silent observer to your heartache.

Fuck it? Hongjoong thought to himself. Siwoo deserves a taste of his own medicine.

Hongjoong scoffed to himself at his idea as he sipped on his coffee.

———

The workday unfolded in its usual rhythm, a blur of emails, calls, and the occasional paperwork that seemed to multiply by the hour. You navigated through the tasks with a practiced efficiency, though your mind occasionally drifted to the flurry of messages buzzing on your phone. Each notification from Siwoo felt like a weight pressing down on you, filled with meaningless apologies, and pleads to wire money for some other things, god knows what he needed it for.

With a deep breath, you made the decision to ignore his messages for now. You turned your focus back to your work, fingers typing over the keyboard, pouring your energy into the tasks at hand.

As you typed, the sound of footsteps drew your attention. You looked up to find Hongjoong standing before your desk, his presence commanding yet familiar. He had a way of drawing you in, and for a moment, the chaos of your personal life faded into the background.

“Miss Y/N, please come to my office after work hours,” he said, his tone smooth yet imbued with a seriousness that piqued your curiosity. He turned and strode into his office, leaving you with a flurry of thoughts.

“Yes, sir,” you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him go.

With a sigh, you returned to your work, the clock ticking steadily toward the end of the day. Each keystroke felt heavier as the minutes dragged on, and the anticipation of your meeting with Hongjoong lingered like a sweet ache in your heart.

———

As the final colleagues trickled out of the building, the quiet hum of the office began to settle into an echo of solitude. You sighed as you recalled Hongjoong’s instructions. Straightening your buttoned blouse and smoothing down your skirt, you prepared yourself for whatever awaited you in his office.

You knocked softly, the sound barely breaking the silence.

“Come in,” Hongjoong’s voice resonated through the door. You opened it slowly and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click.

Hongjoong was seated at his desk, his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms accentuated by a dark tie. The sight of him brought a swirl of emotions; he exuded an effortless charisma that both intimidated and drew you in.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said, your gaze fixed on the floor, an attempt to hide the mix of anxiety and curiosity swelling inside you.

“Yes, please come here, Y/N,” he replied, his voice calm and low. As you approached him, the familiar sound of your heels clicking against the polished floor echoed in your mind, reminding you of the similar situation a few days ago in this very spot.

“Please, sit,” he gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, positioning yourself at the edge, an instinctive reaction born from uncertainty.

Hongjoong rose from his chair and began to circle around the desk, a pen spinning effortlessly between his slender fingers. The movement was fluid, almost hypnotic, and it pulled your attention as you tried to read his expression.

“Miss Y/N,” he began, pausing for a moment, “you’re one of my smartest employees, correct?” His gaze remained focused elsewhere, a slight distance in his eyes.

“Th—thank you, sir. I—” you started, but his voice cut through your response.

“A person with an important job like yours requires a lot of skill, attentiveness… and have the ability assess the environment around the office, Correct?”

“Yes… that is correct, sir,” you replied quietly, maintaining eye contact,

“Would you agree that you have been lacking some of these skills, Y/N?” Hongjoong stopped infront of you, sitting at the edge of his desk. His arms crossed over his chest, revealing the strong veins that ran along his forearms, an unconscious display of his physicality that made your heart race.

“I—I haven’t noticed, sir. I apologize if I haven’t been performing well…” The words tumbled out, anxiety creeping in. Were you about to get fired? The thought sent a chill through you, and you mentally recoiled at the prospect of your life spiraling further down.

“I’m not going to fire you, Y/N,” he said, and your eyes widened in surprise; it was as if he had plucked the thought straight from your mind.

“I’m not really following this conversation, sir…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you began to fidget with your fingers in your lap, seeking any distraction from the mounting tension.

Hongjoong released a frustrated sigh, and suddenly he pushed himself off the edge of the desk, stepping toward you slowly. His strong arms landed on the armrests of your chair, effectively trapping you in place. He leaned in closer, the proximity forcing you to lean back into the seat, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden intimacy of the moment.

The air between you thickened. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the sharpness of his gaze holding you captive.

He scoffed, the corner of his lip turning into a smirk as he looked down. His eyes landed on the unbuttoned opening of your shirt. He sees your chest breathing up and down in anticipation. He looks up, gazes at your lips quickly before looking into your eyes.

“For someone so pretty and smart, you’re quite naive” He chuckles. A rush of heat seeps into your cheeks. You’re at a loss for words. You don’t know how to respond, so you opt to stay silent.

“Miss Y/N” Hongjoong says sternly in a soft voice.

“Yes, Sir?” You quietly reply back.

“Can you assess the environment in this office right now?” His voice is a whisper.

“U—Uhm…” you stutter, not knowing what to say. Hongjoong chuckles at your flustered expression.

“Let me give you a hint, Y/N” Hongjoong whispers and leans in closer, his presence enveloping you like a warm wave. Then, in a moment that felt both thrilling and terrifying, his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes widened in shock. This is wrong, a voice in your mind screamed. You shouldn’t be doing this. But as much as you tried to summon the strength to pull away, your body betrayed you.

His lips were soft, warm, and surprisingly gentle as they molded against yours, igniting a fire that swept through you. The worries around you faded, leaving only the two of you suspended in this unexpected moment. It felt as if time had stopped, your heartbeat loud in your ears, drowning out the rational thoughts that screamed for you to stop.

As he finally pulled away, the distance felt electric, charged with a lingering intimacy. His gaze searched yours, earnest and intense. “Do you understand now?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You nod slowly.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks softly as he looks at your plush lips. You hesitate, unsure of what to say. All you know is that you want whatever lingering feelings Hongjoong has bestowed on you. As much as you know it’s wrong, you can’t help but crave him.

In response to his question, You shake your head in protest. His thumb caresses your chin tilting your head to look up at him.

“Use your words baby.” Hongjoong’s voice is low as he stares into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Please… don’t stop sir.” You say quietly. Hongjoong smirks and pulls way from you. You look at him confused. His position is sat back onto the edge of his desk.

“Show me you want it too Y/N” He’s teasing you. Wanting to see how far you’re willing to go. Knowing that deep inside, as much as you want this you still feel a tiny ounce of guilt from being unfaithful to your partner. Regardless, You rise from the chair and make your way to Hongjoong. You position yourself between his legs that are slightly spread and place both your arms on his shoulders. You lean forward and kiss him. Hongjoong returns the kiss almost immediately. He can feel himself already growing hard as his lips move against yours. His hands are securely gripped onto your waist bringing you closer to him. He deepens the kiss and swipes his tongue over the bottom of your lip. In response your mouth opens as you release a whimper. Both of your tongues now move together skillfully, resulting in a moan from both of you. As the heated make-out session continues, you notice Hongjoong’s arm pushing away some papers and other items on the desk behind him.

Smoothly, Hongjoong moves your position, his strong arms swiftly carry your body onto the desk. You are now sat on top of the cold wood, arms wrapped around his neck, as he continued to devour your lips. You slightly pull back in attempt to catch your breath. You’re a panting mess, and so is he. Hongjoong however doesn’t want to stop. He pecks your lips, before leaving a trail kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your soft cheek, and finally to your slender neck. Shivers were sent throughout your body as Hongjoong left soft warm kisses on your neck.

“A—ah Sir…” you whimpered quietly. Hongjoong hummed in response as he began to leave opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Hongjoong pushed your legs apart, your skirt already slightly hiked up from him placing you on the desk moments ago. Revealing your exposed thighs, Hongjoong’s hands moved from knees, and traveled up your soft plush thighs, causing you to close them in an instinct, but his strong arms prevent you, keeping them open.

His lips trails up to your ear nibbles on your lobe before whispering softly, “I want you to say my name okay?” You nod in response.

His hands moved dangerously closer to your heat that was radiating from your exposed thighs, but he stops, he was teasing you. His hands caressed your inner thighs, not daring to move closer as he continued to kiss your neck and face. His lips found his way back to yours and takes it in softly.

You whimper against his mouth and he slowly pulls away.

“What’s wrong baby?” His voice is so soft, sending another heat wave down your body.

“Please… touch me, sir” you say sheepishly.

“I told you Y/N, I want you to say my name.” Hongjoong’s grip on your thighs tighten, causing you to whimper in pain and pleasure.

“H—Hongjoong…” your soft, angelic voice echoed in his ears as his name rolled off your tongue.

“Yeah baby?” He tries to hold back a groan, already so turned on by you calling his name.

“Hongjoong, touch me… please?” You plead with your doe eyes staring at him. Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your pretty, desperate face.

“Fuck, Y/N… you make me do stupid shit” He curses under his breath before devouring your lips once again.

This time, his hands finally touch your warm clothed pussy. You moan at his touch. His fingers slowly rub against your clit, creating a friction against the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck tighter. Moaning into his lips as he continues to rub you.

Unexpectedly, tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. Not in pain, not in discomfort, but in a frustrating pleasure.

“Hong—j-joong, stop teasing please” You whimper as he slightly pulls away. He looks at your face, tears slowly falling down. He smirks, “Mm such a dirty brat, crying for me…” He degrades you in a low tone.

His hands find the hem of your underwear, and he skillfully pulls them down. They rest at the ankles of your legs, stopped by your heels that restricted them from falling to the floor. Hongjoong’s left arm cradles your back, as his right hand pushes up your skirt more to reveal your bare wet pussy.

“Fuck… so wet already just from me kissing you, and barely touching you?” He teases you, even though he too is already so rock hard in his slacks, from just kissing and touching you.

His hand makes his way to your clit. The soft bud of his middle and ring finger gently rubs circles, causing you to hold back a moan. Skillfully, his fingers dip down to your entrance, not fully going inside you, just enough to collect your wet fluids, and bring them back up to your clit. He rubs it again, slowly picking up the pace.

Your right hand drops behind you as it land on the desk, supporting your weight. You slightly throw your head back and cover your mouth with your unoccupied arm trying to hide your moans.

“Let me fucken hear you moan baby. No one is here. Just you and me” Hongjoong groans in your ear. His voice turned you on so much, resulting in a soft moan slipping from your lips.

Hongjoong’s fingers make their way to your entrance. Slipping in your tight folds. You gasp and grab onto his shoulder. He pumps his fingers slowly, as he studies your facial expressions. Your eyes are sparkling from the previous tears you shed. Your glossy lips slightly parted as you released soft moans.

“So fucken pretty” Hongjoong moans as he leans down to kiss your forehead. The gentle gesture, mixed with his lewd actions makes your stomach turn in a good way. He begins to pick up the pace. The office room is silent, with only the sounds of your mixed moans, pants, and the wetness of your folds fapping against Hongjoong’s hand.

Your mind begins to get fuzzy as you feel an orgasm near by. Hongjoong feels your pussy tighten around his digits, he chuckles before he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. You whine in protest, frustration builds up in you, you were so close. Your arm around his neck tugs him closer, reaching for his lips, wanting to feel some sort of physical contact. But he pulls away from you. Completely. He steps back and looks at your figure.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, an unsettling knot tightening in your stomach. Why did he stop? Just moments ago, the air had felt charged with lust, and now it hung heavy with an unspoken tension. A flood of negative thoughts surged through your mind, drowning out any remnants of clarity. Embarrassment crept in, a heat rising to your cheeks, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Guilt wrapped around you like a heavy cloak, its weight almost suffocating. You could feel the sting of tears pooling in your eyes, the familiar ache of despair threatening to spill over. In a swift, instinctive motion, you cast your gaze downward, as if to shield yourself from the world around you. Your heart raced as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.

Hongjoong watches you as you softly cry. He tries not to loose his composure. The cute look of confusion on your face makes him feral.

“Aww baby… why are you crying hm?” Hongjoong’s voice is raspy. He tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your flushed face. You can’t find yourself to respond, only sniffles and soft whimpers can be heard.

“You know… to be completely honest Y/N…” the sound of Hongjoong’s belt unbuckling fills the air. You glance at him with your doe eyes.

“When I told you… I don’t want to see you cry anymore…” He slings his belt off his pants and drops it to the floor. His hands moving towards the button of his slacks. He shifts towards your body, and leans close to your face.

“I actually meant… I don’t want to see you cry for anyone else but me.” Your eyes widen at his statement. He chuckles at your expression and grabs your hands. He brings them towards his hard mound covered by the soft fabric of his pants.

“You look so fucken pretty when you cry. It turns me on so much. Knowing that you feel so good, you can’t help but shed a few tears” He moans as you begin to instinctively rub your hands on his huge hard on.

“Help me out baby. Be a good girl” Hongjoong whispers to you, and you nod. He smiles at your response. You make your way off the desk, and position yourself on your knees. You slowly unzip Hongjoong’s pants and pull them down along with his trousers. His hard, long cock springs out and softly hits your face. You gasp at the sudden sight. Earning a chuckle from him.

“Open your mouth.” He demands softly. Your lips part, tongue slightly sticking out, as you take Hongjoong’s length in. He releases a loud groan. Cursing under his breath as you begin to slowly bob your head up and down. You twirl your tongue a few times over his tip, causing him to tightly grip onto your soft hair.

“F—Fuck baby…” Hongjoong throws his head back.

“… damn, your boyfriend is this lucky and can’t even fucken appreciate you” You freeze at the sudden statement, and Hongjoong smirks as he scoffs. In response, he begins to thrust into your mouth slowly. You moan on his cock as he begins to shove himself deeper into your mouth. You tap Hongjoong’s leg, and he pulls you off him instantly. You gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from your lip to his cock, as you begin to cough. Hongjoong chuckles, caressing your hair.

“Stand up” He demands. And in an instant you’re on your feet. Hongjoong swiftly lifts you up and places you back onto the desk. His hands are hastily unbuttoning your blouse as he kisses your lips. You moan, furrowing your brows, still thinking about the humiliating statement Hongjoong said. Something about his touch is so intoxicating, making you want more. Making you not care about anything in your reality.

As Hongjoong releases the last button on your blouse, he quickly pushes your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra filled by your perfect plush breasts. His hands grace over your chest, sending shivers down your spine. He kisses the exposed skin of your breast. His hands moving towards the straps, as he pulls them off. He reaches behind you and skillfully releases the clasps of your bra. The black lace drops swiftly revealing your perfect boobs.

“So fucken perfect for me baby.” Hongjoong whispers as he gropes them with his hands. You moan at his touch. He takes one in his mouth and laps at your nipples, resulting in you throwing your head back in pleasure.

“H—Hongjoong” you moan his name, he hums in response, still working on your breasts.

“Want.. m—more” you stutter under his touch.

He pulls away from you and pants, trying to calm himself down.

“Want more what?” He cocks an eyebrow at you. You pout, too embarrassed to verbally say what you want from him.

“Tell me now, or I’ll leave you here” Hongjoong threatens as he begins to pump himself, already knowing what you want. But he still wants to hear the words from your mouth.

“I want… you inside me… please?” You whimper in embarrassment. You look at him and you see a spark of excitement in his eyes as he smirks at you.

“Atta girl. Wasn’t so hard to say right?” He teases you as he brings himself closer to your pussy. Your breath increases as he places his tip right at the entrance. He only inserts his head before pulling out, repeating the gesture a few times. You whine as a tear falls from your eyes.

“Quit being a fucken brat” Hongjoong hisses at you bringing a gentle hand to your face as he wipes the tear away. Finally, He pushes his whole length inside you, earning a loud yelp from you. His cock instantly hits your sensitive spot and you cling onto his arms. He pauses inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. You’re definitely not used to his large length and thick girth, he’s stretching you out so good.

“Damn baby, you’re so tight? Your boyfriend isn’t big enough huh?” Hongjoong snickers at you. You whine at the sudden mention of your boyfriend again. It’s like he wants to remind you of him on purpose. To humiliate you. Hongjoong begins a slow pace inside you. Grunting as he moves against you.

“Answer me…” he demands, his hand cups your chin to force your gaze on him.

“H—he isn’t big enough. Y—you’re bigger Hongjoong…” You moan as he thrusts deeper.

“You… make me feel s—so good” You close your eyes as you take in the pleasure running through your body. Hongjoong manically smiles. Ecstatic at your response.

“Yeah?” He teases. Picking up his pace. The sound of your sweet moans heighten, the wet sounds of you two slapping against each other fill the room along with Hongjoong’s dirty words.

“Bet you, he doesn’t fuck you this good huh? Look at you. A fucken mess on my cock.”

“N-no! He doesn’t.” You whine, another wave of tears begin to fall from your eyes. The overstimulation of Hongjoong pumping into you along with his degrading words overwhelms you. You don’t want to admit it, but you fucken love this. Your body is enjoying every fucken moment of this dirty, lewd affair.

“F-Fuucckk” Hongjoong moans loudly. “Look at me while you cry, baby. Let me see that pretty face” you listen to him without hesitation. Your eyes locking with his. You feel yourself closer to reaching your high. Until you’re both interrupted with a sudden ringing.

You both turn your heads to the chair you sat on when you first entered Hongjoong’s office. The sight of your bright phone screen illuminates the dim room.

*Siwoo <3 is Calling*

Your heart drops at the name. Anxiety suddenly filling your body, replacing the pleasure you felt before. Hongjoong notices and smirks at you. He reaches over and grabs your phone.

“Answer it.” He demands. You shake your head no.

“I said fucken answer it. Your boyfriend is waiting for you. Don’t be a fucken brat now. Do you want me to stop?” Hongjoong’s words are harsh. You instantly shake your head in protest of him stopping.

“Then fucken answer it” Hongjoong shoves the phone towards you.

You hesitate as you grab the phone from his hands and click the green button. You bring the phone to your ear, but Hongjoong pulls your wrist, and clicks on the speaker button. He cocks his head at you, signaling you to continue,

“H-Hello? Siwoo?” You begin. Hongjoong resumes his pace. Fucking you in and out.

“Hey Honey. What are you doing?” Siwoo’s voice is calm, in contrast to what you’re feeling right now.

“A-Ah.. I’m j-just finishing up some w-work” You stutter as you try to keep your composure. Hongjoong makes it harder for you as he begins to lick your neck.

“You’re still at work?” Siwoo questions.

“M—mm, Yeah. Don’t worry. I—I’ll be home soon” You bite your lip trying to contain a moan.

“You okay Y/N? why do you keep stuttering?” Siwoo’s voices a concern.

“I—i’m okay. I-I just don’t feel too well. I think it’s a stomach tic” You bluff, trying to find an excuse.

“You don’t feel well? Shall I come pick you up from work-?” Siwoo suggests

“No!” You cut him off. You curse to yourself. Hongjoong smiles against a your neck and softly bites it as he continues fucking you senseless.

“Oh- okay then. Just be careful. take some medicine” You roll your eyes. (why the fuck does Siwoo decide to be sweet right now out of all days?) You mentally say to yourself.

“Y-yes I will…” You reply softly.

“Anyways, did you see my text? can you wire me some money?” Siwoo asks nonchalantly. You scoff, earning a vocalized chuckle from Hongjoong. Your eyes widen as you pull him closer to your neck, trying to muffle his laughter. You bite your lip, in hopes Siwoo didn’t hear anything.

“S—sorry, Siwoo. I don’t get paid till this Friday.” you manage to get out.

“Aww please? just a few bucks” Siwoo whines. In annoyance, you roll your eyes once again.

“Siwoo, I—I can’t. I have to go” You quickly hang up the call and throw your phone down. Hongjoong detaches from your neck and chuckles before attacking your lips. His pace begins to pick up. He holds onto your waist for support and you hold him closer. Hongjoong pulls away from your lips and rests his forehead against yours.

“Does he take care of you? or do you take care of him?” He teases as he tries to hold back a laugh.

“S—Shut up” You moan in response. Hongjoong thrusts hard into you, earning a loud yelp from you.

“Someone’s suddenly mouthy?” Hongjoong’s hand grips onto your chin as he lightly taps your cheek.

“F—Fuck” You moan as he shoves himself inside you, with long and deep strokes.

Hongjoong then suddenly pulls out of you. Not wanting to waste any time, he lifts you off the desk and flips you over. Your front is pushed onto the cold wood, and he pulls your hips higher. Your forearms hoist yourself for support as you feel Hongjoong enter you once again. His hands grip under your skirt pushing them up towards your waist, giving him a perfect view of your ass. He mentally curses to himself as he watches your butt bounce on his cock at a constant pace. He brings his hand down to caress it before raising it and bringing it back down in a hard, but pleasurable slap. You yelp in response, eyes widen at the sudden contact.

“Such a fucken naughty girl. Fucking your boss, when you have a boyfriend” Hongjoong degrades you as his hand makes contact with your ass again. You whimper at the stinging sensation. Your tears fall onto the papers infront of you.

“Who fucks you better baby?” Hongjoong pants as his speed increases. “Me or Siwoo? Hm?” He asks again taking you in deeper.

“A—Ahhhh~ You, Hongjoong.” You sniffle your tears , “Hongjoong fucks me better!” You scream as his pace becomes sloppy. Hongjoong hears your crying whimpers and quickly turns you around to face him. Your body now lays flat on his desk as he pumps into you.

“Yeah? bet I can be better lover than him too” Hongjoong confesses as he smashes his lips onto yours. Your heart clenches at his statement. A sudden wave of orgasm hits you. Your pussy tightens around him as you come undone. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you release a loud moan. Your face buried in his chest, as he continues to fuck you and chase his high. Hongjoong’s thrust become sloppy, and quickly pulls out of you.

“Let me cum on your pretty face” He hastily demands. You quickly move towards his lower body and he pumps himself quickly on you. Hongjoong looks at your sparkly doe eyes, and bites his lips. His warm thick load releases into your face, along with a loud grunt from his mouth. You gasp as the feeling of the strings of cum landing on your soft skin. Your mouth instinctively opens,

“F—Fuckkk baby” Hongjoong hisses as he continues to pump more of his load onto your tongue.

The office room is filled with the sounds of you and Hongjoong panting, trying to catch your breath. The room reeks of sex. Your eyes are still locked on his. His white cum painted on your face and mouth. Without any other choice, you close your mouth and swallow his bittersweet cum.

“Fuck” Hongjoong whispers under his breath. He caresses your hair and reaches over his desk to grab a few tissue papers. Hongjoong wipes your face gently and kisses your forehead.

"Let me clean you up down there,"

Hongjoong whispered, his voice a soft, intimate murmur that seemed to linger in

the air between you. The earlier intensity of steamy sex had left a palpable tension, but now, a gentle calm enveloped the room. His eyes, once aflame with desire, were now filled with a warmth that reassured you, reminding you of the caring side he often showed.

After the whirlwind of passion, Hongjoong's demeanor had transformed completely. The fire that had ignited between you both settled into a tender glow as he moved closer, his presence both comforting and protective. With a steady hand, he reached for another tissue, his fingers brushing your skin lightly as he began to clean you up. The touch was careful and deliberate, as if he were trying to convey his affection through each gentle motion.

You felt a mix of vulnerability and warmth wash over you, grateful for the way he approached this moment. It was as though he understood the importance of transitioning from the intensity of physical connection to something more nurturing and intimate. You appreciated how he took his time, ensuring that you felt cared for, both emotionally and physically. As you two began to help each other back into your clothing, you couldn’t ignore the lingering feelings.

“I’ll take you home” Hongjoong smiles gently at you and brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. You nod and follow behind him out of his office. As he approached your desk, Hongjoong gathered your bags. You instinctively reached out to grab them, but he gently shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Let me handle this,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. With that, he took the lead, guiding you toward his car.

As you followed behind, your legs felt wobbly, you could sense him glancing back occasionally, ensuring you were still keeping up.

At the car, he paused, opening the passenger door, gesturing for you to get in. You slid into the seat. He placed your bags in the back with care, then turned to you, his demeanor softening as he reached for his spare coat. With a fluid motion, he draped it over your shoulders, its warmth enveloping you like a comforting hug.

“Hongjoong—” you started, the silence stretching between you, but he raised a hand to quiet you.

“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N. You don’t have to say anything. Just rest,” he said gently. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

The drive home was silent. The hum of the engine a lullaby in the stillness of the night. You fought to keep your eyes open, fatigue clawing at you, but each passing moment, tried to invite you to surrender to the drowsiness. Suddenly, the car came to a stop, signaling at you from your drowsy haze. You turned to look at Hongjoong, who was already gazing at you.

“Y/N…” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable weight. “I meant what I said when I told you I can be a better lover than Siwoo.” The sincerity in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “He doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who truly values you.” His eyes held a raw intensity as he continued, “I don’t think I can go on without you knowing that I’ve always wanted you for myself.”

His sudden confession took you by surprise, leaving you momentarily speechless. The air around you felt charged, and you could hardly process the emotions swirling within you.

“Let me prove to you that I will love you better. Please, Y/N,” he urged, his gaze earnest and imploring. The vulnerability he displayed was a stark contrast to what he portrayed in the office just moments ago. This was a side of him that revealed his deep feelings, and it struck a chord within you.

Your heart raced as you absorbed his words, the truth of them resonating deep inside. You had long felt the magnetic pull toward him, the warmth in his presence that made you feel seen in a way Siwoo never had. You realized in that moment that you, too, wanted to love him—fully and unreservedly.

Compelled by a rush of emotion, you leaned in closer, the space between you evaporating. Your lips met his in a tender kiss, a hesitant exploration that quickly deepened as he responded. His hands found their way to your face, cradling it gently as he pulled you in, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Fuck- if you kiss me like that I might take you right here again” Hongjoong chuckles against your lips. And you giggle in response. However, his expression falls down.

“Y/N… I should tell you that Siwoo has been cheating on you.” Hongjoong sighs as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Who’s Siwoo?” You joke trying to mask your disappointment of him mentioning your now ex. “Y/N, I know I initiated an affair while you are dating him too but, you needed to know.” Hongjoong states in a serious tone.

“I know, Hongjoong.” You say softly. “I figured after our conversation we had on Friday, when he came over to my house the next day. I guess my naive self chose to ignore it… I messaged him earlier when we got to the car that I’m over with him. I’m no longer his.” You look at Hongjoong as he studies your face.

“So… does this mean you’re mine?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. You softly smile and shrug your shoulders. Hongjoong smirks at you and in an instant unbuckles his seat belt and exits the car. He makes his way to the passenger door and opens it. Swiftly, he lifts your body and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp in response and he carries you towards his house.

“You drove us to your house?!” You exclaim as you giggle over his shoulder.

“Let me remind you again who you really belong to” Hongjoong chuckles as he playfully slaps your ass and quickly makes his way through the doors of his home.

Pt. 2 (updated 10/21)

Author’s commentary: Should I do a sequel? 👀. I had way more ideas for this story but decided to cut it short LOLLL. Anyways, I hope yall enjoy😝 feel free to fangirl in my comment section/ ask box🤭.

#ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez writing #yeostinywrites #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong hard thoughts #hongjoong #hongjoongcryforme

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augustinewrites · 1 year ago

Text

cw: it’s just angst

“i’m not mad.”

satoru closes and locks the front door, trailing after you into the kitchen, apprehension rising in the space kept between you. “really? because you seem kind of mad…”

“it’s fine, gojo.” you snap. “i’m fine.”

he watches you, quiet as the two of you go about your evening routine. leftovers from meals brought to the infirmary stowed away. week-old laundry tossed into the basket. you don’t say a word to him, emotions you don’t know how to make sense of still simmering.

“i’m sorry,” he says plainly as you’re both putting away the dishes.

you wipe your hands on the tea towel, glancing over at him. “do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

he shifts, unsure. “no…”

“of course you don’t,” you sigh.

“then tell me,” he insists, exasperated. “i don’t want to fight.”

“i don’t want to either,” you snap. “but you’re doing it again.”

“doing what?”

“you just spent a week in the infirmary. you were hurt.”

“c’mon,” he laughs weakly. “there was no real chance of me dying.”

“that’s not the—” you voice rises, then immediately quiets when you realize the kids are asleep. “that’s not the point. you’re losing yourself in it again. soon you’re going to drift away from us— from me,” you tell him, bleeding into the pain you’ve felt the last few days. “like you did when we were in school.”

because for as long as you’d known gojo, his drive was to constantly do more. be more. the period of time after the failure that was the star plasma vessel mission was the first time you’d witnessed it. gojo satoru doesn’t do anything halfway. he won’t permit himself to.

that’s what really scares you. he doesn’t know when to stop.

“i’m sorry that i worried you,” he apologizes, sincerity etched into his expression. you know him, know that he’s scared to say the wrong thing, that he’ll mess this up or somehow make it worse. “i had to. the higher ups—”

“satoru,” you interrupt, walls crumbling right in front of him. “i’ve always liked that you care about the jujutsu world. i just don’t want you to only care about it. not with where we are in our lives right now.”

“i don’t—”

“you do! you always have, and i get it. i know the world needs you…but things are getting worse, and we need to start thinking about the future—”

“everything i’m doing is for the future. for the future generation of sorcerers all over the world—”

“i don’t care about the world! i just care about you, and that’s the problem. one person always cares more in a relationship and that’s always been me.”

“that’s not true,” he insists, a desperate edge in his voice. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve never needed is you—”

“i need you too! maybe that sounds selfish or needy, but i don’t want there to be a day where i have to tell the kids that you’re not coming home. if you can’t understand that—”

he doesn’t think you realize you’re crying, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill over. satoru reaches for you out of instinct, your argument the furthest thing from both your minds at this moment. you let him pull you into his arms, let him hold you.

but you’re exhausted.

this is fight you’ve been having since the moment you’d met him, and you don’t think he’ll understand the impact of it until you walk away.

“if you don’t understand that,” you continue softly, “then maybe we need to take a break.”

_____

outside the apartment door, nanami and shoko sit side by side, sharing a bottle of "welcome home" wine.

"guess they forgot we were coming over," the doctor mutters, pressing her ear against the door to see if jujutsu tech's favourite couple was still fighting. “it’s way too quiet in there. you think she killed him?”

nanami sighs, loosening his tie. “it’s quite possible.”

“i’ll be the alibi and you’ll get rid of the body?”

“of course.”

#fushigojo breakup fic part one #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #keeping up with the fushigojos #jjk angst

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hoshifighting · 6 months ago

Text

Arranged Marriage — Hoshi x Reader

— Synopsis: In contrast to the tired old plots of arranged marriages where the couple can't stand each other, you and Soonyoung are childhood friends. It's not just like marrying a friend—no, no, actually, it is marrying a friend, no-frills and simple. — WC: 10k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, fingering, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, choking, one single slap on the ass, hair pulling, aftercare, whipped!hoshi, hoshi teases reader until she almost cries for dick, mentions of alcohol, mentions of body fluids (cum, sweat), DIRTY TALK—prob the nastiest dirty talk i've written.

You knew this day would come.

Growing up in a world where luxury, money, stock exchange, and business were the pillars of existence, arranged marriages were just another part of the cycle. Two patrimonies merging into one for the benefit of both families—it was a tradition as old as time.

Some couples embraced the spotlight, showcasing their unity to the world. Others barely tolerated each other, living in separate homes to maintain a fake image. There were also those whose mutual disdain led to chaos both in their personal lives and in the family businesses.

When you saw Soonyoung in your home, dressed in a suit that clearly wasn’t his style, you felt a hurricane of emotions. His usual vibrant, carefree energy seemed stifled under the weight of the tailored fabric. You greeted him and his family alongside your parents, both of you a shy mess, but something in his eyes told you things might not be as bad as you feared.

“Hey,” Soonyoung murmured as you both found a moment away from the adults’ formal discussions. “This suit is killing me.”

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of relief. “You look... different.”

“Yeah, definitely not my usual style, you know me” he grinned, loosening his tie. “But I guess we’re both out of our comfort zones today.”

You nodded, memories flooding back of the two of you playing outside when kids, during business congresses, your parents inside discussing mergers and acquisitions while you and Soonyoung chased each other around the gardens. “Do you remember those days?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes lighting up with nostalgia. “We had our own little world, didn’t we?”

“We did,” you replied. “And now, here we are.”

“So, how do you feel about this?” he asked, shy, looking at your expensive dress, clearly set for tonight. “About us... getting married?”

“I’ve been preparing for it my whole life, I guess,” you said honestly. “But with you... it feels different. Less intimidating."

“I feel the same,” Soonyoung admitted. “I mean, if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled. “Maybe we can make this work. Find a balance between our lifes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We can create something new, something that’s ours.”

You looked at him, seeing not just the boy you grew up with, but a partner. Someone who understood the complexities of your world and was willing to navigate them with you.

You looked around your house, taking in the scene. Soonyoung’s family mingled with yours, coworkers from your parents’ firms exchanged polite conversation, and your and Soonyoung’s nephews were playing circles around the couch.

The weight of the day pressed on your shoulders, a burden that didn’t match the elegance of the dress you were wearing for the marriage proposal.

Soonyoung’s eyes met yours, noticing your tense posture. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

You looked at him, sulking, and he recognized the same expression you had when you were eight.

He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I brought a bottle of tequila. It’s in my trunk. Would you like some to relax?”

You stared at him in silence before nodding with an exasperated look, feeling like it was exactly what you needed.

“Did you bring a shot cup?” you asked, following him outside.

He stopped, bottle in hand, and you both laughed. Taking the bottle from him, you leaned against his car, opened the cap, and poured a generous shot—maybe a little more—straight into your mouth. Soonyoung watched, his mouth wide open in surprise. You handed the bottle back to him.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking a swig himself, looking comically exaggerated as he did. “I’m the one who has to kneel and propose today. My heart feels like it’s about to explode.”

You both laughed like teenagers getting away with something forbidden, hiding behind his car.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. “Do you have the ring here?”

He looked at you and nodded.

“Can I see it?” you asked, your curiosity piqued as if he had a rare Pokémon card.

“Is that right?” he teased.

You made doe eyes and asked, “Pretty please?”

He smiled, pulling a small black box from his pocket and opening it for you.

The diamond ring sparkled in your eyes, its brilliance captivating. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, grinning. “My sister helped me choose it. I originally wanted a diamond shaped like a cat, but she said that wasn’t appropriate.”

You laughed, the image of a cat-shaped diamond making you smile. “It’s beautiful, but a kitten-shaped ring sounds adorable. I would’ve loved that too.”

His grin widened, a small, proud smile lighting up his face as you both admired the ring.

Your moment was interrupted by Soonyoung’s mom's voice, echoing from the house. “Oh my god, are you already proposing?”

Soonyoung choked on his own saliva, his eyes wide with panic. The best thing to do now? Say no and face his mother’s scolding for showing the ring prematurely, or actually propose right then and there?

Before he could think it through, he found himself on one knee on the sidewalk, his heart pounding. You quickly hid the tequila bottle behind your back.

“Soonyoung, what are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“I... I’m improvising,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

The spontaneity of it all, made you laugh and cry at the same time, you needed to pretend you were actually emotional. “Yes, Soonyoung. Yes, I will.”

You barely noticed the sudden crowd that had gathered around you, they'd appeared out of nowhere, all eyes on the two of you. Soonyoung’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch.

You smiled nervously at him, teeth gritted. “Hug me,” you whispered urgently, your eyes darting to the tequila bottle that was precariously wedged behind your back. “Please, put the tequila bottle inside your car. It's practically shoved inside my ass.”

Soonyoung blinked, processing your words before a grin spread across his face. He pulled you into a tight hug, the kind that felt both reassuring and grounding. As he embraced you, he expertly reached behind you, his fingers brushing against the bottle.

You could feel his body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

“Hang on,” he whispered back.

He managed to grab the bottle and discreetly slid it out from behind you. Still holding you close, he took a step back towards the car, opening the door with one hand and slipping the bottle inside. The whole maneuver was so smooth that you doubted anyone noticed the clandestine operation.

That moment eased the tension of the night, but the tequila hadn’t taken effect yet, and you knew you had to keep an eye on Soonyoung. His alcohol tolerance was notoriously low, and you didn’t want him to embarrass himself—or worse, get into trouble.

As the night wound down and Soonyoung’s dad started to lead him to the car, Soonyoung sulked, trying to resist. “I want to talk a bit more to my bride,” he protested, his voice slightly slurred. His words elicited good-natured laughter from both families, who were enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

You walked over to him, giving him a warm hug and patting his head affectionately. “It’s time to go home, Soonyoung,” you said gently.

He looked at you with wide, earnest eyes, the warmth in his gaze reminding you of why you felt less nervous than you should. Soonyoung had always been warm-hearted, and maybe that’s why you felt a sense of calm amidst the chaos.

As you pulled back from the hug, Soonyoung’s hand lingered in yours for a moment longer. “Promise you’ll call me tomorrow?” he asked, his tone earnest despite his tipsiness.

“Promise,” you replied, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

With one last affectionate look, Soonyoung allowed his dad to guide him into the car. You watched as the vehicle pulled away. Your parents approached, their expressions a blend of amusement and expectation.

“Well, that was quite a night,” your mom said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed, glancing at your dad, who nodded in approval.

“You two make a good pair,” your dad said, his tone warm. “I’m glad to see you both getting along so well.”

Your parents were now expectant, believing you and Soonyoung were truly becoming a couple. And in a way, you were—just not in the conventional sense they imagined.

The next day, even though it was a promise to a drunk boy, you called Soonyoung in the morning. Like any typical business wedding, the preparations started swiftly, aiming to have the wedding happen as soon as possible. Today, you were going to choose the food and drinks for the event.

When Soonyoung arrived, he was all tidied up, but his face was clearly tired. You laughed a bit, “You look…”

He completed for you, “Fucked?”

You chuckled, “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Long night,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m here.”

“Good, because we have a lot to decide,” you replied, glancing at the event agent who was discussing the dessert options.

As you both looked at the event agent, who insisted on adding superfluous things to the sweets—like a layer of gold—you exchanged amused glances. The agent was enthusiastically explaining the virtues of gold-leaf-covered desserts.

“Gold? For us to... poop?” Soonyoung murmured incredulously.

You stifled a laugh and leaned closer to him. “Can’t it be something more tasty?”

The agent looked slightly taken aback. “Gold leaf is quite a statement piece.”

Soonyoung nodded, trying to be polite. “But we were thinking of something simpler.”

“How about churros?” you suggest.

The agent blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Churros? For a wedding?”

“Why not?” you said with a grin. “They’re delicious, and everyone loves them.”

“But they don’t exactly scream luxury,” the agent protested.

“They scream fun,” Soonyoung countered. “And isn’t that what weddings are supposed to be?”

The agent sighed, making a note. “Alright, churros it is. Anything else?”

“Maybe some street-style tacos?” he added, enjoying the agent’s bewildered expression.

“Tacos?” the agent repeated, as if the word was foreign.

“Yeah, why not?” Soonyoung agreed. “Let’s keep it simple and tasty.”

The agent finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Honestly, days flew by with Soonyoung by your side. Planning every little detail of the wedding together brought both fun and challenges, especially when your tastes didn’t always align. It was a bit complicated at first, like when you two were choosing the destination for your honeymoon.

Soonyoung wanted an adventure-packed trip to the Amazon rainforest, while you preferred a relaxing beach resort in the Maldives. The negotiations were intense, but you eventually settled on a compromise.

Choosing Soonyoung’s suit also proved to be a task. He insisted on wearing a tie with a tiger print, a nod to his childhood love for tigers. You were surprised that his fascination with the big cats had persisted, but you drew the line at a tiger tie. “Absolutely not,” you told him firmly, trying to imagine the looks you’d get. “A tiger tie is a no from me, and I think a lot of people would agree.”

“Fine,” he conceded with a sigh, but you could tell he was already thinking about how to sneak a little tiger motif into his outfit.

When it came to choosing your dress, you were accompanied by your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister.

Soonyoung, the only man in the group, tagged along as well. The other brides at the boutique initially assumed he was either your brother or your stylist.

Their jaws nearly dropped when they overheard he was actually the groom.

One of the brides, adjusting her veil in front of a mirror, turned to you, wide-eyed. “Wait, he’s your husband-to-be?”

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed with a smile, watching Soonyoung fuss over a lace detail on one of the dresses.

Another bride laughed softly. “Lucky you! He’s so involved.”

“He’s been amazing,” you said. “Except for his obsession with tiger prints.”

Soonyoung, overhearing, grinned and walked over. “What can I say? Tigers are cool.”

“Soonyoung, you’re a unique groom,” his sister teased, shaking her head.

As you tried on dresses, Soonyoung offered his opinions with surprising thoughtfulness, balancing out his more quirky suggestions. He was genuinely invested in making sure you felt beautiful and confident in your choice.

You’d tried on everything: the biggest gowns, the tightest silhouettes, dresses with endless layers of skirts, and others that hugged your hips so closely it felt like they were molded to your skin.

There were corsets that took your breath away—literally—and fabrics that shimmered under the boutique lights.

But this time, when you left the dressing room, you were wearing a veil.

Soonyoung’s eyes didn’t lie for a second. He liked this one very much. The women around you—your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister—fussed over the dress, adjusting it here and there, offering compliments. But Soonyoung was speechless.

If Soonyoung were to be completely honest, up until this moment, he had always seen you as his friend, the girl he was going to marry because of an arrangement. You were the same girl who used to run around the events, eluding the security guards with your mischievous giggles.

But now, you were different. You were a woman. His woman. And you looked stunning.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The transformation was breathtaking. You stood there, looking radiant in your wedding dress, and for the first time, the reality of the situation hit him. You weren’t just a friend anymore; you were about to become his partner, his wife.

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t realize he was gawking until you and the women turned to him, waiting for his response. He blinked, snapping back to reality, and managed to find his voice.

“You look...” he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Your cheeks flushed at his earnest compliment. “You really think so?”

Soonyoung nodded, still unable to tear his eyes away. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

His sister grinned, nudging him playfully. “Told you she’d find the perfect dress.”

Your mom wiped away a tear, “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

Soonyoung’s mom stepped forward, adjusting a tiny detail on the veil. “This is the one. It’s perfect.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Yes, this is the one,” you said, smiling at the reflection and then at the people around you who made this moment even more special.

[...]

The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of activity. Every day brought something new to choose, and your creativity was running dry. You were worn out, and Soonyoung knew it. Today had been particularly exhausting.

As the realtor showed you yet another option for apartments in the Metropole, you responded with short answers, your enthusiasm long gone after visiting sixteen places that day alone.

“So, what do you think?” the realtor asked.

Soonyoung noticed your hesitation. “Can I talk with my wife for a sec?” he asked.

The realtor nodded and walked off, giving you space.

“Y/N-nie... are you okay?” Soonyoung asked softly, looking at you through his lashes.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’m so tired,” you confessed.

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You breathed out heavily. “My family is putting a lot of pressure on me, and I’m working relentlessly at the company. I can’t wait for us to get married…”

Soonyoung’s heart sank a little. “You want to get married just to get free from it?”

“No, it’s not just that. It’s everything. The wedding preparations, the constant decisions, the endless work... I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand. “We don’t have to rush this, you know. We can take our time.”

“But everyone’s expecting so much from us,” you replied, feeling the weight of expectations.

“Let them expect,” he said firmly. “And I want this to be as much about you as it is about us.”

“I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” you admitted.

“You won’t,” Soonyoung assured you. “You’ve already done so much. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit lighter. “Alright. Let’s look at this apartment one more time.”

Soonyoung nodded, giving you an encouraging smile. “And if it’s not the one, we’ll keep looking until we find the perfect place for us.”

You laughed softly, the tension easing. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Just doing my job as your soon-to-be husband,” he said playfully.

Soonyoung was doing an incredible job.

From what you’d heard from friends who had gone through the same situation, they didn’t have partners like Soonyoung. You felt proud of him.

He was your rock, making sure you took a breath when you were overwhelmed by the slightest things. He even insisted you didn't move a finger during brunch, making you so relaxed that you found the apartment you’d been searching for on the very same day.

The drive home was quiet, the car enveloped in a peaceful silence that allowed you a moment to rest. You laid your head back as he drove, appreciating the tranquility. Once you arrived, you stayed seated for a bit, soaking in the comfort of the quiet.

Soonyoung looked at you, waiting patiently. When you finally looked up, he gave you a gentle smile. “Ready to go in?”

You nodded, feeling a bit more refreshed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He stepped out of the car and came around to your side, opening the door for you. “Take your time,” he said softly.

You appreciated his patience as you slowly got out of the car. “Thank you, Soonyoung.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the house. “I’m just doing what any good partner would do.”

You leaned into him, feeling grateful for his support. “I don’t think everyone is as lucky as I am.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too, you know.”

As you entered the house, you felt a sense of relief. The apartment search was over, and you had found the perfect place. More importantly, you had Soonyoung by your side, making every step of this journey easier.

“So, what’s next on our list?” he asked, guiding you to the living room.

You sank into the couch, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. “I think a nap is next on my list.”

He laughed, sitting beside you. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders. “Wake me up in an hour?”

[...]

The days flew by in a blur with the whirlwind of wedding preparations. It felt like only moments ago you were choosing flowers, tasting cakes, and finalizing guest lists.

Now, as you stood at the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in front of Soonyoung, the reality of the moment hit you with full force.

The weight of the dress and the pressure of looking perfect made your hands sweat like never before. You felt like a porcelain doll, perfectly polished and poised.

Soonyoung stood there, his eyes fixed on you with pride. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. Here you were, a perfect woman by his side, and even better, an old friend he'd known for years.

The familiarity of your presence brought him comfort. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really dated, the idea of having someone as pretty and cool as you with him every day made him feel at ease about the whole situation.

As you walked down the aisle, your eyes met his, and a small, reassuring smile played on his lips. He looked stunning in his suit, and the way he stood tall, waiting for you, made your heart flutter.

You could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, mirroring your own, but there was also a calmness there, a silent promise that everything would be alright.

When you finally reached him, he extended his hand towards you. He leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “You look amazing.”

You blushed, your nerves momentarily forgotten. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

The vows were sincere, filled with heartfelt words that spoke more to your shared friendship than any romantic notion. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as you remembered all the crazy things you’d done together as kids.

Your minds flashed to the time you stole sweets from an event or when you both jumped into a water fountain during an important dinner with company directors.

As the officiant declared you husband and wife, all of these memories became a sweet reverie. You leaned in and whispered with a playful glint in your eye, “Are you going to kiss my lips or my cheek?”

Soonyoung blushed, clearly caught off guard by the question. A kiss on the cheek was typical in such moments since most arranged couples didn’t share a romantic bond. He stammered for a moment, his face flushing a deep shade of pink.

“Well… uh… I suppose the cheek would be safe,” he mumbled, eyes darting nervously.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, leaning closer. “But where’s the fun in that, Soonyoung?”

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. The playful challenge in your gaze gave him the courage he needed. With a deep breath, he moved in, his hand gently cupping your face.

“I think I’ll go for the lips,” he whispered back, his voice steadying.

The crowd held its breath as Soonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a simple kiss, not passionate, but filled with the warmth of years of friendship and the promise of a shared future. The applause that followed was thunderous, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you pulled away, you both wore matching grins. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased,

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not bad at all. Actually, it was kind of nice.”

You linked arms, turning to face the crowd together. Your parents looked relieved and proud, while your friends were cheering loudly, clearly entertained by the spectacle. Soonyoung’s eyes met yours again, and there was a newfound spark there, full of possibilities.

As you both shared champagne with your parents, Soonyoung playfully asked, "No tequila tonight?" You were about to respond when his mom's voice cut in, "Tequila?"

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter. You quickly improvised, "Huh, h-he meant... tacos! We had tacos with tequila last time, remember?" You forced a smile, hoping it sounded convincing enough. His mom seemed satisfied with the answer, nodding along.

After mingling with guests—aka talking with people from work about the next meeting—you finally found a moment to escape the spotlight. You and Soonyoung crouched behind the kitchen, hiding from the crowd. The chefs chuckled at the sight of the newlyweds sneaking bites of food, but they made sure to hand you the best eats, knowing how overwhelming the day could be.

Soonyoung grinned, playfully nudging you. "We're so used to doing this at parties that we're practically pros now."

You nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on your face. "Even though it's our own wedding party," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, looking at the gold ring on your finger with a sense of wonder. "Our wedding... I still can't believe it. Oh my god, we're grown adults now."

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pat his head mockingly. "We've been grown adults for... kind of a long time already," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then leaned in closer, his voice softening. "Yeah, but it feels different now. Like, we're really starting something new."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It was true. The reality of your situation was sinking in, but in a way, it felt comforting. You had each other, and that made everything seem a little less daunting. As you sat there, hidden away from the chaos of the celebration, it struck you how much you appreciated this moment—just the two of you, stealing away for a breather.

“Shall we follow tradition?” Soonyoung asks, a playful glint in his eyes. You frown, confused, as he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of tequila.

“Should tequila be kept in the fridge?” you ask, laughing at the sight.

“I hope so,” he replies, pouring the liquid into a cup. “This one is expensive.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking the cup from him. “The cheapest has the same effect,” you say, waiting for him to pour his own.

He chuckles, raising his glass. “But today’s a special day. We deserve the good stuff.”

You laugh it off, crossing your arms before taking the shot together. The familiar burn makes you both scrunch up your faces.

The wedding party was truly one of a kind. You and Soonyoung were a bit too excited, turning the waltz space into a wild dance floor.

At first, your parents were too embarrassed to join, especially at the sight of Soonyoung twerking on you. But soon, even the directors and business partners were on the dance floor, dancing and drinking extravagantly.

[...]

The next morning, you and Soonyoung were woken up by the buzzing of your phones.

Your makeup was smudged and stamped on the pillow, and you were still in your wedding dress. You scratched your scalp, feeling the bobby pins still tangled in your hair.

Soonyoung was no better; his shirt was unbuttoned to his belly button, his tie was loosened around his neck, and his hair looked like a bird's nest. He scratched his forehead groggily. Despite sharing the same bed, you both seemed unbothered by it.

You grabbed your phone and saw the company group chat flooded with messages:

“Wow, last night was incredible! Congrats to the newlyweds!”

“I can't believe we all danced that much! My feet are killing me. :')”

“Best wedding party ever! So happy for you guys!”

“My head is pounding, but it was totally worth it. ^^ Cheers to you both!”

“I’m still recovering from all that dancing. What a party!”

“Never thought I’d see the CEO breakdancing. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

You couldn't help but smile at the messages, as Soonyoung peeked over your shoulder, a sleepy grin spreading across his face.

“My head hurts,” Soonyoung complains, rubbing his temples.

You adjust the corset of your dress, feeling the tightness around your ribs. "My ribs are squeezed," you grumble, wincing as you try to get comfortable. "I can't believe I slept in this."

He yawns, glancing down at your leg. "You even kept the garter on," he points out, noticing the delicate band still around your thigh.

You crack your neck, feeling the weight of the long night. "Your sister gave it to me, so I put it on," you explain, lifting the voluminous skirt to reveal the bridal garter.

His eyes widen comically. "My sister?! Is there something I don't know?"

You frown at him, a bit confused. "You don’t know about the tradition?"

Soonyoung looks a bit lost, scratching his head. "I mean, it’s my first time getting married."

You sigh, laying back down. "Traditionally, the groom is supposed to take it off when... taking the virginity," you explain, watching his face turn a shade of pink.

His eyes dart around nervously, processing the information. "So... my sister thought I was... a virgin?"

You shrug, teasing, "Probably. Are you?"

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Definitely not. And you?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint."

He chuckles, finally relaxing. "Good to know. Not that it matters, but... it's funny to think about how everyone just assumes stuff."

“Are you going to take it off?” you tease, stretching your leg up and wiggling your foot playfully. Your eyes glint mischievously as you watch Soonyoung’s reaction.

He scoffs, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “What, you mean right now?” His eyes flicker to your thigh, then quickly back up to your face, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just messing with him.

You arch an eyebrow, maintaining your playful expression. “Why not? It’s tradition, right? Don’t you want to fulfill your husbandly duties?” You stretch your leg out further, making the garter more visible.

Soonyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s a sparkle of joy in his eyes. He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your thigh. The touch sends a shiver to your skin, and you can’t help but giggle.

“What’s the matter?” you prod, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Not at all,”

You bute your lip as his fingers graze the lacy fabric of the garter. His touch is feather-light, almost ticklish, and you squirm a bit under his hand.

Soonyoung smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re squirming,” he notes, his voice low and teasing. “Does that mean you’re nervous?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Me? Nervous? Please,” you retort, trying to sound confident despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I’m just surprised you’re taking so long. I thought you’d be an expert at this.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand a bit higher up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “Oh, I am,” he replies smoothly. “Just savoring the moment.”

“Well, don’t take too long,” you murmur, your voice softening slightly. “We wouldn’t want to miss out on any other wedding traditions.”

Soonyoung grins, his fingers hooking under the garter. “Right, can’t forget those,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness.

He gently tugs on the garter, slowly sliding it down your leg, his eyes never leaving yours.

As he finally slips the garter off, he holds it up triumphantly, a goofy grin on his face. “There, tradition fulfilled,” he declares, waving the garter like a trophy.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “Congratulations,” you say, clapping mockingly. “You’ve successfully removed a piece of elastic lace. Truly, a remarkable achievement.”

He bows dramatically, playing along. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

You can’t help but laugh, the light-hearted banter making the moment feel even more special. Soonyoung’s hand lingers on your leg for a moment longer before he finally lets go.

As Soonyoung gets up, stretching his arms with a yawn, he announces, "I'm going to take a bath." He heads towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sit up, still feeling the effects of last night's festivities, and shout after him, “Ya! Ladies first!”

From behind the closed door, you hear Soonyoung's laughter echo in the bathroom. “Sorry, didn’t hear you over the sound of me already starting the water!” he calls back, his voice filled with playful defiance.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself. It’s these little moments that make everything feel so natural and easy with him. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of running water stop, and Soonyoung emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“All yours,” he says, grinning. “I left some hot water for you, too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, grabbing your toiletries and heading into the bathroom. The warm water is a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of makeup and the night's events. After a quick shower, you step out feeling slightly more human, though the hangover still lingers.

As you both finish getting ready, the thought of breakfast crosses your mind. However, just the idea of food makes your stomach churn. The hotel's breakfast spread is typically lavish, but today, the thought of greasy bacon and pastries is anything but appetizing.

Soonyoung, dressed in a casual outfit, catches your expression as you look at the food options. “Yeah, not feeling it either,” he says, rubbing his temple. “Let's skip it.”

You nod in agreement, both of you opting for just a coffee to stave off the worst of the hangover. With minimal conversation, you gather your belongings, checking out of the hotel and heading straight to the airport.

But one thing you definitely didn’t expect was Soonyoung falling asleep on your shoulder within the first thirty minutes of the flight. His head rested heavily against you, and his hand, seemingly by accident, was placed on your thigh.

As he softly snored, you couldn’t help but chuckle at how comfortable he looked. Anyone passing by would probably think you two were an old married couple, so naturally attuned to each other.

His head's weight pressed down on your shoulder, a constant reminder of his presence. Every now and then, you felt him subconsciously moisturizing his lips, a small, almost imperceptible movement that somehow made the moment even more cute.

You glanced at the small TV screen in front of you, trying to focus on the movie playing. It was a romance novel adaptation, the kind with sweeping gestures and grand declarations of love.

Normally, you might have rolled your eyes at the cliché, but with Soonyoung sleeping peacefully beside you, it felt oddly fitting.

As the plane cruised through the sky, you found yourself getting lost in the storyline, occasionally glancing at Soonyoung. His breathing was steady, a gentle rhythm that added to the soothing hum of the plane.

You shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without disturbing him, but his hand tightened instinctively on your thigh, holding you in place. It was a small, protective gesture that made your heart flutter.

What you loved the most was when Soonyoung finally woke up, blinking sleepily and then immediately apologizing. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, his face flushed with embarrassment. You chuckled, assuring him it was okay, that he had every right to rest. He seemed genuinely mortified, even offering, “You can sleep on my shoulder too, I promise.”

You smiled at his earnestness, brushing it off with a light, “Maybe on the way back, then,” as the announcement came that you were about to land.

Once you arrived, Soonyoung was quick to grab the suitcases from the taxi, his efficiency a comfort as you made your way to the hotel's check-in counter.

The concierge’s eyes seemed to linger on you a little too long, his gaze sliding over your sundress and perhaps admiring more than just the attire.

As you waited for the receptionist, the concierge leaned casually on the counter, offering a friendly, yet slightly flirtatious, smile.

“First time here, ma’am?” he asked, his tone smooth and inviting.

“Well, yes...” you replied, keeping your voice polite but detached. You could feel the weight of his attention and tried to subtly stretch your hand, making sure the gold ring on your finger was clearly visible.

The concierge didn’t seem to get the hint, or perhaps he chose to ignore it. “You’re in for a treat. We’ve got some wonderful spots for—”

Before he could continue, you felt Soonyoung's presence behind you, a comforting warmth at your back. His body pressed lightly against yours, a subtle yet possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. His hand slipped around your waist, resting just below your belly, the touch gentle but unmistakably protective.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Everything alright?” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and a subtle edge.

You could almost feel the shift in the air. The concierge straightened up, his expression flickering between surprise and a polite smile. “Oh, just making sure your stay is perfect,” he said, his tone now more professional, eyes darting between you and Soonyoung.

“Thank you,” Soonyoung replied, his voice steady. His hand didn’t move from its spot on your belly, and the slight squeeze he gave was enough to send a clear message. You leaned back into him, feeling a rush of warmth at his silent claim.

The receptionist finally returned with your room keys, handing them over with a bright, “Welcome to our hotel! We hope you enjoy your stay.” With the keys in hand, you and Soonyoung made your way to the elevator.

As the doors closed, sealing you both from the world outside, you turned to Soonyoung with a smirk. “Looks like someone’s a little possessive.”

He grinned back, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

You tease him back with a playful smirk. “Well, it’s just a business marriage. You shouldn’t worry about stuff like that,” you say, your tone light and slightly mocking.

Soonyoung scoffs, turning his gaze to the side with a dramatic sigh. “You’re such an idiot,” he mocks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“An idiot, hm?” you counter, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Well, I’m an idiot you agreed to marry, so I guess that makes you twice the fool.”

He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Sharp tongue of yours, huh?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I’ve had years of practice.”

Soonyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, it’s a shame. I was really looking forward to giving you something special once we got to our hotel room.”

Your curiosity piques immediately. “Something special? Like what?”

He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, just something that’ll make you remember tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge his meaning. “Something that’ll make me remember tonight, huh? Care to elaborate?”

Soonyoung chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I think you already know what I’m talking about.”

You narrow your eyes, playfully challenging him. “Do I? Because you’re being awfully vague.”

He leans back, enjoying the game. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The teasing glint in his eyes only fuels your curiosity further. You know exactly what he’s implying, but you play along, eager to hear him say it outright.

“So,” you press, “what is it? Can you give me a hint?”

Soonyoung’s grin widens, clearly relishing the moment. “Let’s just say it’s something that’ll make you very excited. And not just because of the hotel’s decor.”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re being all mysterious.”

You sulk, trailing behind Soonyoung as he walks down the hallway toward your room. “Tell me, pleeeease,” you plead.

Soonyoung glances back at you with a mischievous smile. “Nope, not telling,” he says, his grin widening as he enjoys your insistence.

When you reach the door, Soonyoung unlocks it and pushes it open, gesturing for you to enter. You walk in, your eyes scanning the room briefly, but your focus quickly returns to Soonyoung. He places the suitcases by the door and then hops onto the bed, sprawling out with a relaxed sigh.

You stay standing by the door, your arms crossed over your chest, giving him a sulky, upset look.

“So,” Soonyoung says with a defiant glare, “am I forgetting something?”

You pout, trying to look as curious and frustrated as possible. “You’ve got me curious,” you admit, your eyes wide.

He laughs, brushing his hand through his hair with a playful sigh. “You’re almost throwing a tantrum over this?”

Soonyoung slides his hand down his abdomen slowly, getting lower and lower, until he's wrapping his fingers around his cock through his white shorts. The outline is clear, thick, and perfectly defined against the fabric.

He gives it a little shake, a sly smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

You stare at him in shock, your knees almost giving way as you take in the sight. Your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out as you struggle to process what you're seeing.

Soonyoung’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Are you surprised?”

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Well, I figured it was time to give you a little hint,” he says, his hand still resting casually on his bulge. “So, do you think you’re ready to find out what else I have in store for tonight?”

You stammer, unable to look away from the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. “Do we have to wait until nightfall?”

Soonyoung licks his lips, his gaze never leaving you. “Oh,” he drawls, “but you have to walk properly tonight, so we can go to the restaurant.”

Your eyes darken, a fire igniting within you. “You think I can’t handle all of this inside?”

He raises an eyebrows. “You shouldn’t,” he says, his voice dripping with devilishness. “It’s just a business wedding, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Just a business wedding, huh? You really want to test me?”

Soonyoung chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “That’s right. Let’s see if you can keep your composure while we enjoy a nice dinner.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Challenge accepted,”

You’ve never been so turned on by someone’s mere presence before. The entire city tour was a cruel game of torture, all at Soonyoung’s hands.

In the taxi, his hand had wandered to your nude thigh, brushing against your skin like a feather. The way his fingers lightly caressed your inner leg made your heart race and your breath catch.

At the restaurant, the casual caresses continued. His leg pressed against yours under the table, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

The warmth of his skin against yours, the way he would occasionally let his knee slide up your thigh—each movement was like an electric current surging through you, leaving you squirming in your seat.

Walking through the jewelry fair was an exercise in restraint. As you admired the sparkling displays, Soonyoung’s hands kept drifting to the exposed skin of your back. His touch was light, almost playful, but each graze against your bare skin made you shiver with need.

You could barely focus on the dazzling jewels in front of you; your mind was consumed with the need for him.

By the time you were back in the elevator, you felt like you were on the edge of losing control. You could feel his eyes on you, sharp and hungry, as you pressed yourself against the wall.

You turned your face away, but you couldn’t hide the truth from him. Your nipples, straining against your dress, betrayed your arousal. Your legs, pressed tightly together, were a clear sign of your desperation. Even your unsteady breaths gave you away.

When you finally arrived at the hotel room, you barely made it inside before your desperation took over.

You throw him against the wall, hands planted firmly on his chest. The sound reverberates through the room, probably making the neighbors wonder what the hell is going on. His usually small eyes are wide, staring at you flaggerblasted.

Your breath mingles with his as you lean in, letting your lips barely graze his. Your voice comes out breathy, almost desperate, “Please. Stop teasing me.”

For a moment, he's stunned, caught off guard by the whininess in your voice and the look on your face—like you might break if he doesn't give you what you need right now.

It's a twisted scenario, considering you're his childhood friend turned wife is standing before him with an expression that borders on agony—an agony only he can alleviate.

For a moment, he looks like he might laugh, but he knows he's on the verge of losing all sense of control, but a part of him relishes the idea.

“Say it again,” he murmurs. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't resist the thrill. His lips barely brush against yours, teasing, taunting.

“Soonyoung, I'm going to fucking cry if you don't—”

“Hold it,” he commands,you shudder, your breath hitching as he lifts your dress. And you comply, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep it out of the way.

His hand slides down the front of your panties, and your head falls back.

Soonyoung leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re so fucking impatient,” he growls.

His fingers slide through your slick folds, finding you wet and wanting, throbbing everytime he rubs his fat fingers on you. “You’ve never even tasted my cock, and you’re already obsessed, huh?” He presses his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand. You can barely think straight. “Please, Soonyoung,” you beg again, your voice cracking.

He chuckles darkly, clearly relishing your desperation. “You want my cock so bad, don't you?” His fingers slide inside you, curling just right, and you cry out. “You want me to fuck you senseless? Make you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. The words spill out of you, unfiltered and raw. “I want you to ruin me.”

“You’ve never had anyone fill you up like I will,” he says. “I’m gonna stretch you out so good, baby. You’ll be begging for more, even when you can’t take it.”

The dirty talk, the sheer vulgarity of his words, makes you even wetter. You feel like you're on the verge of losing control, and it's rousing.

Soonyoung's fingers pump in and out of you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs relentless circles on your clit, and you can feel the tension building, winding tighter and tighter.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers first,” he whispers. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days. Is that what you want, baby? To be fucked so good, you can’t even think about anything else?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you pant, your voice high and desperate. You can feel the orgasm building, Soonyoung's touch is all-consuming, driving you wild with every stroke.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.“So eager to please. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Here and there, Soonyoung is driving you insane with his body affixed to the wall, one strong arm holding your leg up. His wrist swiveling to match his fingers as they explore your weeping cunt and his repetitive rubbing of the areas that cause you to roll your eyes.

You cry out, gasping as you roll your hips onto his fingers, the orgasm making you forget what would be appropriate at the time. Soonyoung's fingers work you through it, drawing out every last drop of you.

As you come down from the high, you realize you're still clinging to him, fingers deep on his muscular shoulders, your breaths coming in hiccups. Soonyoung pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel a pang of loss.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can barely stand. Soonyoung catches you, pulling you close.

Soonyoung's eyes rake over you, his smirk widening as he takes in the sight of your trembling legs. “You're trembling,” he chuckle. His gaze drops to the slick mess between your thighs, and he bites his lip, clearly reveling in the sight. “Better than this... you're literally dripping,” appreciating.

He lets your leg down, holding you firmly as he guides you back onto the bed. The plush mattress sinks under your weight.

“God forgive me,” he continues, “but if our mothers weren't in that dressing room that day, I would've fucked you right there in the store. With that princess veil of yours... I would've pinned you against the mirror and made you scream my name.”

Your mouth falls open. The image of him taking you into that bridal shop, surrounded by white lace and satin, hitting you like a punch to the gut.

You're not sure what shocks you more: his bold declaration or the way your body reacts to it, growing wetter with every word.

He smirks at your reaction.

“What's the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?" He teases. His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. “Or are you just too turned on to speak?"

He's right; you're completely at his mercy, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

He strips off his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso, then shucks off his shorts. His erection strains against the fabric of his boxers, and he groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he palms himself.

“I could've fucked you on that altar,” he visualize. "In front of all those guests. Just to show everyone that no matter how arranged this marriage was, you're mine. No one else's.”

He opens his eyes, locking onto yours. “I would've spread you open right there, had you screaming my name, showing them all who you belong to."

His dirty words, the way he claims you with every syllable, makes your head spin.

Soonyoung's hand moves over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don't even know how much I've wanted you,” he hisses. “How much I want to fuck you senseless, make you mine in every way.”

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “And tonight, I'm going to do just that. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget about everyone else. Just me, and this cock inside you, filling you up until you can't think straight.”

You squirm, your body responding to his filthy promises. You can't tear your eyes away from him, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the night holds.

Soonyoung's fingers brush against the hem of your dress, and you shudder at the contact. “Take it off,” he orders, his voice rough. “I want you naked, spread out on this bed, ready for me.” His eyes bore into yours, and you know he's not just asking—he's demanding.

You slip your dress over your head, tossing it aside as you finally catch sight of Soonyoung completely naked. His hand moves over his erection, the cockhead glistening with precum. The sight makes you lick your lips.

“Can you—” he starts to ask, but you cut him off, not needing him to finish.

“Yes!” you nearly moan. His eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips as you drop to your knees in front of him.

You take a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His cock is thick and veined, the head an angry red, glossy with precum. You can almost taste it just from looking.

Tentatively, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. It's musky and slightly bitter, but it makes you want to choke on this cock. You swirl your tongue around the head, savoring the taste and the way his breath hitches above you.

Soonyoung's hand tangles in your hair, guiding you closer. “Yes, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. The texture of his cock is smooth yet rigid, the veins pulsating against your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you bob your head, taking more of him with each movement.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, and you hear a strangled moan escape his lips. “Shit, that feels so good,” he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The sight of him looking down at you, his face twisted in pleasure, spurs you on.

You slide your hand up his thigh, wrapping it around the base of his cock to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth. Your other hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you continue to suck him.

You hum around his length, sending vibrations through him. He shudders, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. “You're so fucking good at this,” he praises, his voice breathless. “So eager, so perfect.”

You moan around his cock at the praise. You take him deeper, pushing your limits as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly but push through, wanting to please him, wanting to show him how much you want this.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his hips bucking forward again. “You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”His voice is strained, you don't know if he's warning you or if he's desperate.

You don't let up, doubling your efforts. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head every time you pull back. Your hand continues to pump the base of his cock, matching the rhythm of your mouth. You can feel him throbbing, his cock pulsing with need.

Soonyoung's moans grow louder, more desperate. His breaths come in uneven pants, his body tense with the need for release. “Fuck, Y/N, I'm so close,” he warns, his voice breaking.

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his as you take him even deeper. You want to see him come undone, to watch him lose control because of you. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and with one last swirl of your tongue, he lets out a choked moan.

He comes hard, his hips jerking as he spills into your mouth. The taste of his release floods your senses, warm and salty. You swallow every drop, savoring the way he trembles above you. His hand in your hair tightens, holding you in place as he rides out his orgasm.

His hand gently strokes your hair after, a contrast to the rough grip from moments before. You pull back, licking your lips and savoring the last taste of him.

He lifts you up effortlessly, his lips crashing into yours. He doesn't care that his cock was just in your mouth seconds ago or that his cum lingers on your tongue. The taste of himself on your lips makes him moan, the sound vibrating between you.

After a moment, he pulls back, one hand wrapping around your throat, not tight but firm enough to make you feel his presence. His eyes bore into yours, as he licks his sensitive lips.

“You were sucking me so good,” he rasps, “that I almost said ‘I love you’.”

A laugh bursts out of you, hearty and genuine, and he watches you with a smirk.

“I swear,” he continues, his tone playful. “if I'd known marrying you would come with benefits like this, I would've done it way sooner.” “I feel like I owe you something after that blowjob,” he says, his voice dropping into a deeper, more sultry tone.

You bite your lip, a dirty thought flashing through your mind, and Soonyoung picks up on it immediately. Soonyoung's gaze narrows, reading the filth in your expression

“What is it? What do you want?” he asks excitedly.

“Can you fuck me… doggy style?” you ask.

“Yes, I can,” The corners of his mouth twitch, barely holding back a grin.

You look up, pretending to be lost in thought, then say, “Can you fuck me in missionary?”

He nods again, biting his lip, his grip on your throat tightening just a little.

“Can you fuck me inside… the shower?”

He presses you tightly against him, his hand gripping your waist possessively, but your gaze still eating him whole.

“I can fuck you upside down, sideways, any way you want, baby,” he answers, his voice steady and confident. “Just say the word, and I'll make it happen.”

You moan in response. Too early to say that you're already dumb for his cock?

“Get on all fours and lift that pretty ass for me.”

As you crawl up the bed, you make sure to put on a show. You arch your back, lifting your ass higher, giving Soonyoung the view he wants. You wiggle it a little, teasing him.

The motion makes your pussy lips part slightly, already slick and ready for him. You can feel his eyes on you, burning with thirst. Without warning, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. You let out a yelp. You know that mark will be there tomorrow, like a postmark, like a stamp, like a reminder of this moment, and the thought makes you even wetter.

He moves behind you, the bed dipping under his weight. You feel his hands on your hips, gripping you firmly as he positions himself. You can't help but push back against him, seeking more contact.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, running his hands over the curves of your ass, squeezing the flesh and kneading it roughly. He spreads you open, taking in the sight of your wetness. “Look at how ready you are for me. You're dripping, baby.”

You moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “Please, Soonyoung, I need you.”

“Fuck, you sound so desperate,” he taunts, positioning himself behind you. His cock slides against your folds, teasing you, making you whimper. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock.”

“Please, Soonyoung, fuck me,” you whine. “I need your cock inside me, please. I can’t wait any longer.”

He doesn't tease, doesn't make you wait any longer. He thrusts in with one hard, deep stroke, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion makes you cry out, a slight discomfort as your walls stretch around him. But it makes your toes curl.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move. “So fucking tight and wet for me. You feel that? That’s my cock stretching your pussy.”

You moan loudly, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Yes, Soonyoung, I feel it. It feels so good. Fuck me harder.”

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. The sudden burst of pleasure makes you gasp, your body jolting.

He pulls back slowly, only to slam back in, setting a rough, punishing rhythm, making you roll your eyes back.

He's so deep, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Each thrust makes you see stars, and you can't help but moan loudly, not caring if the entire hotel hears you. The stretch, the fullness, it's all so overwhelming, so fucking good.

“Come on,” he urges, voice a low growl. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you squeeze this cock.”

It's all too much. The feel of his cock, his fingers on your clit, the dirty words spilling from his lips—it all sends you over the edge. The second orgasm of the night making you feel already exhausted. Your voice hoarse, as you feel yourself sloppier between your legs.

There's no mercy in his movements; he's fucking you through your high, pushing you beyond your limits. Each time he hits your cervix, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain ripples through you, making your arms tremble uncontrollably.

You try to hold yourself up, but your strength falters. With a soft cry, your arms give out, and your chest falls against the bed. Soonyoung lets out a low chuckle, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watches you crumble beneath him. Even with your body slack, you're impossibly tight around him, your pussy squeezing him like a vice.

Soonyoung’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to pound into you from behind. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you, making your walls clench involuntarily around him.

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the pride in his voice as he coos, “Aww, look at you. So fucking helpless, so fucking wrecked. You can’t even hold yourself up, can you?”

You can barely muster a response, a breathy whimper escaping your lips as you feel the tears start to stream down your cheeks. It’s an almost incredulous feeling, the tears mixing with the sweat on your face.

You’ve never been fucked like this before, never been pushed to the brink and then beyond, your body betraying you as it trembles under his control. It’s a raw, visceral experience that leaves you gasping for air, your mind a hazy blur of feel.

Soonyoung notices the tears, and his smirk grows wider. “Look at you, crying for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Is it too much, baby? Too fucking good? Love being fucked so hard you can’t even think straight?”

His hand moves from your hip to your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your back even more. The angle shifts, and he hits that perfect spot inside you, making you moan loudly, your voice cracking with the intensity of it all.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips snapping forward with even more force. “God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard. It’s like your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.” He punctuates his words with deep, hard thrusts that leave you reeling, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“So pretty when you cry,” he continues, his tone almost taunting. “I could do this all day, just watch you fall apart on my cock” His words are filthy, degrading, but they ignite something inside you, a desperate need for more.

The way he speaks to you, the way he claims you with each word and each thrust, is addictive.

You can’t hold back your sobs. “Please,” you manage to choke out, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore.

More, less, anything—just something to ease the dizzying sensation coursing through you.

He laughs softly, a dark, knowing sound that makes your skin prickle. “Please what, baby? You want me to stop? You want me to fuck you harder?”

He pulls out almost completely, the emptiness leaving you gasping, and then slams back in with a force that makes your whole body jolt.

“You’re so fucking greedy. Can’t get enough, can you? You want this cock to ruin you, want me to fuck you so good you’ll feel it for days.”

All you can do is moan and sob, your body shuddering with each thrust as he pounds into you. The bed creaks under the force of his movements, it’s dirty, raw, and utterly nasty.

“Gonna make you cum again,” he murmurs, his voice a dark promise.

And as you feel the tension building inside you again, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your belly—you know he’s right.

He lays you gently on the bed, your back sinking into the mattress. Your face, flushed and glistening with sweat, looks completely wrecked, completely exhausted. Soonyoung feels a brief flicker of pity, but it quickly dissipates as you babble out your dirty words, barely coherent but dripping with need. “Please... Soonyoung... more, need you so bad... fuck…”

He smirks, spreading your wobbly legs apart, exposing the slick, swollen mess between them. “You can barely form a sentence, and yet you still want more.”

He slides his cock back inside you, stretching you open once more.

Soonyoung's thumb finds your clit again, and he begins to work it in slow, light-touch circles. The sensation is maddening, a delicious contrast to the deep, methodical thrusts of his cock.

He watches your face intently, drinking in every expression, every gasp and whimper."That's it, baby," he coos. “Let me see that pretty face when you cum.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body overly sensitive from the previous orgasms, but he doesn't let up.

His other hand moves to your chest, fondling your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple before sliding up to wrap around your throat. This time, the grip is firm, real, and you can feel the delicious pressure as he chokes you just enough to make your head spin.

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his body, pulling him closer as if you could merge with him, become one. The scent of sweat and skin mingling in the air—it all consumes you.

Your body is trembling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, a white-hot band of pressure that threatens to snap. Soonyoung's moans are louder now, but they seem distant, like they're coming from underwater, muffled by the roaring in your ears.

His pace quickens, and you feel yourself losing control, your mind slipping away from the physical world. The room, the bed, even Soonyoung—all of it fades into the background.

There's only the blinding, all-encompassing pleasure that fills every nerve, every cell in your body. It's like being pulled under a wave, the sensation crashing over you with a force that's almost violent.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, and you can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, the buildup to your orgasm reaching its peak.

And then, it hits. The climax rips through you, a white-hot explosion that leaves you gasping, the world narrowing down to the blinding sensation of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Your back arches off the bed, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your vision goes white. The intensity is mind-numbing, erasing everything else from your mind except the overwhelming euphoria that pulses through you.

Your body shakes with the force of it, your legs quivering, toes curling as the pleasure radiates outward from your core. You can feel the slickness between your thighs, the way your walls flutter and squeeze around Soonyoung, pulling him deeper inside you.

Soonyoung's name falls from your lips in a choked sob, your voice hoarse and trembling.

You slowly come back to reality, feeling the weight of Soonyoung's body on top of you, his cum warm and sticky between your bellies.

Soonyoung pants loudly, trying to catch his breath. He lifts his head slightly to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes despite the satisfied smile on his lips. “You okay, wifey?” he asks.

You manage a weak smile, still feeling the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. “I’m okay, hubby,”

His smile widens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. “You were amazing.”

You chuckle softly, the sound a bit strained. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, your hand coming up to rest on his back, feeling the muscles still taut from effort.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your own. “Glad I could satisfy my wife on our first night together,”

“Think we should clean up?” Soonyoung asks after a while.

“Probably,” you agree, though neither of you makes a move to get up just yet. You’re too content, too wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Soonyoung shifts, carefully pulling away from you. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver slightly. He helps you sit up, his hands gentle and supportive as you both make your way to the bathroom.

The weight of the wedding ring on your finger feels heavier now, more symbolic than ever. It’s not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a constant reminder of the commitment you’ve made and the life you’re building together.

Soonyoung, despite his own exhaustion, is kneeling beside the tub, gently washing you. His focused expression as he works to make sure you’re clean and comfortable. The sight of him, so dedicated and caring, makes your heart swell.

You feel a pang of guilt as you see the tiredness etched on his face, a reminder of how much he’s given for you, both physically and emotionally. Your legs, still trembling from the aftermath of the passion, had given up on you, leaving you reliant on him. The thought of him taking care of you, even in his weariness, makes you feel both grateful and a bit ashamed.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “You don’t have to do this. I can manage on my own.”

Soonyoung looks up at you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “I want to,” he says quietly. “You took care of me earlier, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, it’s kind of nice, being able to do this for you.”

You look him in the eye and sense the truth in his words. His warm, comforting smile belies the weariness that is evident in the lines on his face.

[...]

As you and Soonyoung lie together in bed, the room is quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from either of you. The memories of what just happened still lingers in the air, making both of you feel a bit shy and stunned.

As Soonyoung lays his head on your chest, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He sighs contentedly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around your breast.

“So,” he begins, his voice tinged with both surprise and a hint of playfulness, “when I hinted at what I wanted, I honestly didn’t think you'd go for it. I was kind of... hoping, but also preparing for a rejection.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers running through his hair. “Oh really? And why not?”

“Well, for one, you’re ridiculously hot. I didn’t think you’d be that into it right off the bat.”

You giggle, feeling a rush of confidence. “Oh, come on. Why wouldn’t I? You’re hot, and let’s be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Damn, so you think I’m hot, huh? And here I was thinking I’d have to put in a little more effort.” He rises to look at you, but you make him lay again, your cheeks flushed.

“I can’t believe we managed to go from ‘I do’ to ‘Let’s fuck’ in just a few days. We really don’t waste any time, do we?” You say, grinning.

“Yeah, I guess I underestimated how much I’d resist you, but I knew I was in trouble from the moment we got married… I thought I’d be a strong soldier, holding out a bit longer.”

He hums thinking.

“I’m surprised I managed to hold out for as long as I did.” he finishes.

You raise an eyebrow, a naughty smile playing on your lips. "Well, I guess you’re not as disciplined as you thought. Seems like you fell for me quicker than you’d like to admit.”

Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, your hand resting on his cheek. “Poor soldier. Captured by the enemy and all. What will you do now?”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. "I guess I’ll just have to surrender to you completely.”

“Even the strongest can fall. And let’s be real, I’m pretty good at making sure my soldiers surrender.” You shrugged, smirking.

He bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel like a total pushover.”

“I plan on keeping you hooked, you know—well, at least until the next time we have a ‘conversation’ like tonight."

“Well, if this is what marriage looks like, I think I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

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