#hes like oh you can work in [other girls] office shes out this week!!! like omg thank youuuuu thats a perfect setup for me 🥰🙏🏻 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

osaemu · 9 months ago

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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene.

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against.

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room.

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor.

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal?

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own.

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second.

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it��s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket.

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips.

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you.

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate.

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin.

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you.

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat.

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”

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obsesssedblerd · 4 months ago

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"Who's your new teacher?" (Part 3)

Synopsis: Toji takes Megumi to his doctor's appointment, and you, his teacher, hunt for a gift to give him.

Pairing: single dad! toji x f! reader

Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, protective toji, protective tsumiki, megumi being scared of doctors, mentions of shiu kong, everyone is happy bc i said so

part one here, part two here

a/n: here's part three! barely proofread. sorry for mistakes.

update: pt. 4 here

--- --- --- --- ---

Though Megumi said that he would be brave, Toji Fushiguro knew his baby all too well. In the waiting room of the doctor’s office, Megumi sat stiffly beside him, clinging his dog plushie way too tight—an obvious sign that he was scared. Toji’s heart aches within his chest, and once he finishes filling out the paperwork for him, he sets the clipboard aside and pulls the small boy onto his lap. “Megs, it’s okay, I promise. We won’t be here long, alright? No scary shots.”

His eyes fill with tears, and he buries his face into Toji’s shirt with a distressed whine. Tsumiki—who was sitting next to Shiu and playing a game on his phone to pass the time—immediately lifts her head once her ears register the sound of her little brother crying, and she hands Shiu his phone back before coming to stand in front of the two of them. Toji moves an arm so she can inch her way closer to Megumi.

“Don’t worry, Gumi, we’re here,” she coos softly as she wraps an arm around Megumi’s free side, so he was being comforted by her and Toji at the same time. “Me and Papa won’t leave you alone, okay? We’re right here. You can hold my hand the entire time.”

A middle-aged man sitting across from them sighs loudly in annoyance, and Toji looks up in time to see him rolling his eyes at Megumi’s little sniffles. “Oh, c’mon, it’s not that big of a deal. Besides, boys don’t cry.”

The concern that Toji feels for his son is immediately replaced with sheer rage, his blood boiling as he squeezes his hand into a tight fist. He’s about to open his mouth to say something, but his seven year-old daughter beats him to it. Tsumiki whirls around angrily, meeting the asshole’s stare head on. “Nobody asked you, stupid head!!” She yells.

The man’s eyes go wide, the receptionist at the front desk gasps, and a few of the other patients in the waiting room either stifle a laugh or turn the other direction. The man looks at Toji, as if expecting him to intervene on his behalf and correct his daughter. Instead, he pats Tsumiki’s shoulder and stares at him with a small smirk. “You heard her,” he tells him, his voice dark with warning. “Stupid head.”

He must’ve seen the utter violence in Toji’s eyes, because he chooses not to say anything else. Toji looks over to see Shiu giving Tsumiki a high-five. Then, Toji gives her shoulder a small, loving squeeze. “That’s my girl.”

To his relief, Megumi—who had watched the exchange silently—had finished crying and was a little bit calmer. Though he’s done crying, Toji’s little blessing decides to remain in his lap, smiling up at his sister when she turns back around to hug him some more. He notices Megumi taking slower breaths, and holding up his little fingers to count the seconds as they go by.

As he silently counts to himself, a memory from three weeks ago floods Toji’s mind. You, sitting on the ground next to Megumi, explaining a good tactic to calm himself down after crying and experiencing stress for too long. “Breathe in for four seconds,” you explained in a soft voice, holding up your fingers in front of him to count. “Then you’re going to hold for seven seconds, and finally, breathe out slowly to last eight seconds.”

Now that he’s thinking of you, Toji smiles, wondering if it would be awkward or not to send you a message after Megumi’s appointment. Just what did you like to do after work?

—

“...What?!” You shout into the phone, your heart pounding as you pace back and forth in your living room.

“Uh, sorry,” the store clerk on the other line says, gulping nervously around their words. “We’re unable to put this item on hold for you.”

Your head is spinning. You think you’re about to throw up. Your eyes drift back to your laptop which displays the email announcing the special, limited edition of the dog plushie Megumi has—a bright white one, matching the dark-colored one that he kept with him all of the time.

You subscribed to the brand’s website around a month ago, and had been keeping an eye out for it to drop so you could get one for him. Since it dropped this afternoon shortly after all of your students had gone home, you immediately knew that it would be the perfect gift after his doctor’s appointment. For the last three hours, you had been calling store after store, only to be met with disappointment when customer service revealed that they were completely sold out. It was a popular plushie, after all. You finally found a store that had the plushie in stock, but—

“How come you can’t put it on hold?!” You exclaimed. “I’ve never heard of something like this before!”

“Um, well, since the plushie is a special edition item, they can’t be ordered from the store or put on hold, just so everyone has a chance to get one. It has to be fair.”

You’re shoving your shoes on, using your shoulder to hold the phone to your ear as you grab your keys and purse. “Okay, how many are left?”

“I believe just one. They sold out super fast today.”

You didn’t care what had to happen. You were getting that damn plushie for Megumi.

—

You thank every deity that you didn’t get pulled over, and that you didn’t get into an accident. You pull into the store’s parking lot, run out of your car, skip the cart, and go straight towards the toy section. The store is busy this evening, and that worries you. You hope that you’re not too late. When you reach the aisle where the plushie is supposed to be located, you skillfully maneuver your way through the crowd of parents and kids. You are a teacher, after all.

You see the stand where the special edition plushie is supposed to be, and your heart sinks when you see that it’s completely empty. You groan as you walk down the next aisle of toys away from the crowd, reaching into your purse to grab your phone. Maybe there’s another store nearby, or even about thirty minutes away with at least three of them in stock. Maybe—

A brightly-colored package barely sticking out from underneath the rest of the stuffed animals in a large bin gets your attention. You shove your phone back into your purse, then dig into the bin, pulling out stuffed animal after stuffed animal until you reach it. You gasp, then pull out the last special edition dog plushie. Luckily for you, it’s not damaged. You squeal in victory, already excitedly imagining what little Megumi’s reaction is going to be like once you deliver it to him tomorrow. You check the price of it, and wince. Definitely a special item. You’re definitely going to have to dip into your savings account.

It doesn’t matter. The smile on Gumi's face will be worth it. You know that much.

As you’re transferring money from your savings account to your checking account, you hear footsteps approach the aisle you’re standing in. “Shiu, I’m telling ya, it’s supposed to be here, but it isn’t. You sure you called the right store? I swear, this shit-” You look up to see Toji, who comes to a complete stop once he sees you, his eyes widening in shock.

Oh.

------------

tags: @abadbitchblogs @koriisworld @queendessi24 @chosoyukisgf @blubearxy @starmapz @atomictrashcreator @levixbby @jjknanamin @roxytheimmortal @eternallyvenus @jup1tersuccubus

sorry if I missed anyone! I went based on the replies in the previous part. if you would like to be tagged for part 4, kindly let me know in the replies! this includes those who have been tagged previously! <3

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji imagine #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #shiu kong #jjk fluff #toji x you #written by rey <3

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highvern · 8 months ago

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Patterns II

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play

Length: ~9.9k

Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!

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Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives.

But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.

“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.

Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.

“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?”

Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.

Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?

Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project

Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies

Y/N: and joy

Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.”

“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.

Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”

“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.

“And?”

The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.

Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary.

Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA

Y/N: Your honor free her!!!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand

Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :)

Y/N: whore

But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…

Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.

Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?

Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.

—

The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.

As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s.

The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.

The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.

A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.

“Okay, I need to go home.”

Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.

“Why?” You ask skeptically.

Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.

“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”

“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”

“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”

Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”

He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.

Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.

“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?”

“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.

You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.

When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time.

Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.

“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.

“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.”

Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.

Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.

“Nope.”

“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.

“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.

Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”

“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?”

“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.

“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.”

You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”

“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.

“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?”

“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.

“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again.

Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect.

“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.

Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite

Y/N: im not spooked so easily

Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.

The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company.

Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.

A trio of voices echo down the hallway.

“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.”

The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them.

You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.

Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter.

Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.

“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.

You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television.

Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.

Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body.

Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.

You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.

“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.

You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.

Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.

You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation.

But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again.

You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel.

The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between..

In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.

The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.

Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.

Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.

Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.

Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.

Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.

The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.

Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.

What is he waiting for? You think.

Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.

But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm.

Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure.

Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in.

Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.

He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.

Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.

But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it.

Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge.

When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again.

But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.

Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.

Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.

She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.

Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover.

The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered.

Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough.

He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.

The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.

“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.

In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence.

The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.

Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.

With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine.

Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.

You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut.

He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.

On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

Wonwoo: Next time?

Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait

The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.

On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing.

More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?

But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.

Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight.

Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing.

His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.

When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day.

Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.

When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door.

Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live.

Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.

Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.

The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat.

A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.

MISSED CALL: Wonwoo

A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.

“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.

He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.

“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.

“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”

“Why?”

It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.

“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”

“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.

“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”

“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.

Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.

“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”

“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.

You wince, “Sorry.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”

“Your landlord can’t let you in?”

“Not answering his phone.”

“And Mingyu?”

“Also not answering.”

After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.

Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”

Silence.

“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”

Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.

“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.

“Wai—”

Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior drowsiness transforms into irritation.

Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.

It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”

The pause on the other end of the line is heavy.

“I was being an ass.”

“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.

“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”

Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man.

“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.

“…Thanks.”

The call ends.

Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.

If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.

“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.

“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”

Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.

“Wait, let me get some towels.”

Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra.

It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.

Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head.

“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”

Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came.

Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.

Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”

“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.

The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.

You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.

Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.

You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.

While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.

Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair.

“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”

“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago.

Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.

Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”

“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”

“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”

In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway.

How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet.

More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.

“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”

Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently.

Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”

“You’re right.”

“What?” You choke.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes.

You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy.

“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”

Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.

“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.

He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch.

“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”

“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up.

You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you.

Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.”

Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants.

“I’m a really, really good actress.”

A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath.

Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones.

A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.

Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.

Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.

He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”

Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.

Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back.

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt.

A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.

Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.

Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions.

Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.

Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.

Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want.

“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.

You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place.

“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”

Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action.

Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start.

Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.

Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.

“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.

You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.

Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.

Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.

You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate.

Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls.

Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.

“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?”

The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples.

“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”

The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue.

Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.

You snap. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.

Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.

Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.

Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own.

The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”

His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half.

If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.

Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper.

One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.

“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.

Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance.

Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.

You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught.

“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”

The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.

You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.

Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.

“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.

Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”

Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again.

It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you.

And you take it.

“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”

Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips.

“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.

The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.

“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?”

His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.

Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing.

Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.”

Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy.

He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole.

“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”

Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.

“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant.

He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.

With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.

Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care.

You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.

You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho @kyeomofhearts @beananacake

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #svthub #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt smut #🫡 highvern

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fillinforlater · 11 months ago

Text

Eleven to One: Pet Play

Male Reader x Choi Yena

Length: 3966 words

Tags: pet play, you knew that, pet/master dynamic, blowjob, bad table manners, indulging in the pet kink, collar and leash, spankingas punishment, undressing, doggy, creampie, sex toys, overstimulation, kitten!Yena

TW: I guess if you don't like kitten Yena...

Inspiration: The great works of @writerpeach and @worldsover. Go check out their work on this specific... let's call it topic.

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being my awesome co-writer and instigator of many BFH-sessions

(A/N: Looks like someone else is added to the family-harem, this time with a bit of an set up. Check out the previous story with the teaser for this one! Oh, and here are all the other chapters. Enjoy!)

"Sho tashty~"

Minju has no table manners, talking with food in her mouth. Well, the 'food' in question is your cock she is feverishly sucking from underneath the table while you and Yujin enjoy a nice, quick breakfast before Yujin has to leave for a group schedule. That's also why Minju is the only one naked, something she is perfectly accustomed to ever since you found the right room temperature for her.

"Before you go, I'll let you know that we have to move into a hotel for a week," you say as Yujin takes her final sip of coffee.

"Why is that?"

"I bought the penthouse below and above us and want to connect them via some automated staircase. I promised the construction company a huge bonus if they finish in a week, so it shouldn't be longer than this. Damn Mr. Kim, I’d love to buy the entire building, but he is too greedy."

"Daddy," Minju asks from below, her soft fingers massaging your balls while she twirls your cockhead. "Why do we need so much space, so many rooms? Isn't this big enough?"

You take a quick glance at Yujin who shakes her head. This is not the right time, don't introduce Minju to the full family plan yet. Especially not when she is busy playing with cock, the only thing on her mind, on her tongue.

"I'll tell you later, Minmin."

"And I'll see you two later," Yujin says and gives you a quick tongue kiss while cupping your cheek. Too bad you can't cup hers because you are busy playing with Minju's hair. That’s not even a first world problem, so you’ll live with it. "Love you, Daddy."

"Love you too.

"Hey, Minmin, did you drop the bowl on purpose earlier?" you ask with Yujin out the door. Minju looks utterly confused, which is heart-meltingly cute.

"Why would Minmin do that, Daddy?"

"So I'd punish you and make you suck my dick?"

"B-but Minmin can suck your dick just by crawling in your office and opening my mouth. Why would she break Daddy's bowl?"

You laugh a little. This girl is too pure and impure at the same time.

Going on a date without Yujin feels quite odd, you must admit. What's even weirder is that you won't need to do it in secrecy, hidden from literally everyone. Today you just walk into the cafe, a gift underneath your arm and look for your date, a girl with colorful hair. At least she was last seen with light pink strands during a meet and greet.

In the corner of the cafe is a table, in full light of the sunshine, falling in through crystal windows, and at said table is a small person, covered in a bucket hat, sunglasses and a large, black overcoat. Someone who likes to hide their identity to the world, but not you, because a flock of pink hair she flaunts from underneath the hat confirms your suspicion. It is your date.

"Do you mind if I just—"

"Oh, no, please, sit down~"

As you pull back the chair to have a seat, you intently watch the young woman remove her glasses and reveal her face to you. This is your first time seeing the Choi Yena up close in person, and with her gleeful smile, she really looks like a duck or cat or something adorable that you want to cuddle.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," you tell her and raise your hand to get the waitress's attention. "Can I invite you for a treat or a beverage?"

"Oh, I'd love to," Yena says, mocking your formal, almost posh way of speaking, before she has a light bulb moment. "Wait, you're very—let’s say well off, right? Can I order whatever I want?"

Now the ducky cat has puppy eyes, for no reason, really. You're here on this friendly date and she seems to have some sort of issue that only a wise person can resolve—of course you'll treat her.

"Get yourself whatever you want, but please." You lean forward and whisper. "Don't order too much. I find it embarrassing if they have to throw good food away."

Yena grins widely and nods, before going on a spree to order all kinds of cupcakes, pastries and milkshakes. You raise an eyebrow and calmly sip your coffee as she digs down sweet treat after sweet treat after sweet treat. To your surprise, she is not only fully capable of eating all of it, but also willing to talk about the most random shit while stuffing her face with sugary goods.

Yena lacks table manners, just like Minju did this morning.

You sit there and listen. Yena mostly talks about her daily life, mixed in with complaints about her company and sudden outbursts of adoration for IVE and their super star Yujin and how happy she is for you two.

Then she goes on tangents about IZ*ONE and what the girls have been up to. She is sad about Wonyoung, who apparently decided to pursue some rich people stuff, just like Hyewon, but when you tell her that you and Hyewon are rather close (yeah, that's all you will tell her for now), she lights up once more.

"Really? I only heard rumors about her new, joined company buying huge shares in Starship. Do you like working for Hyewon-unnie?"

You put your cup of tea down and smile. "Something like that, yeah. But now, Yena, I'm pretty sure you're avoiding something."

"Wha-what do you mean?" Yena sweats profusely, not because the overcoat is too thick, though it is, but because you finally want to get to the point. Why were you here again?

"You know what I mean. The reason you wrote the letter, Yena. You have to tell me why, all I can do is make assumptions."

Yena wraps her lips around the straw of her milkshake and quickly drinks the remaining droplets until she makes this annoying slurping sound that has your temple in scrunches. Before you can complain however, Yena finally speaks up.

"I'll tell you, bu-but can you at least guess what it's about first."

"I can, but I have to warn you, I'm very honest and upfront, no nonsense, I might trample over your feelings or say something absurd, rude even."

Yena blushes and gulps. She is all ears to what you're about to say, which has you confident that your guess is spot on.

"I believe that you are very unsatisfied with your sex life and unsure how to act out the stuff you like, so you try to look for someone with experience who you can trust but is also not in your closessed circle."

"Is it that obvious!?” Yena quickly responds as not to let awkward silence fill a possible void in this conversation.

You nod and Yena throws her hands dramatically into the air. She looks embarrassed and a bit distraught that you were able to look right through her, without shame or hesitation.

However, to your pleasant surprise, she is able to gather herself and speak like a proper grown up about her sexual frustration:

"Yeah, you were spot on. I have a lot of free time in between comebacks and schedules, which is nice and all, but I-I'm unsure about hook ups and scared that someone will... leak stuff. So I wanted to try normal dating, but even among other stars that is so ha-ard. I just want to fu-uck."

"That is very understandable," you say and lean back into the chair, feeling a bit like a therapist with an immorally large bulge in your pants. "But don't you think you could find a very loyal fan, who'd do anything for you, have an NDA ready and go for it? Or maybe you could go out of country, where they don't know you? I bet you still have a lot of options, and with a pretty face like yours, you're bound to find more than enough people to fu-uck."

Yena pouts at you mocking her pronunciation.

"But that's a lot of effort and little guarantee. I want something reliable, in this country and I can’t wait any longer.”

"You want a relationship where you can trust the other person," you summarize. "So... what was your goal with all this? We don't know each other and I'm in a relationship with Yujin. I don't get this from you point of view."

"I-I, it's just that I—I need someone with experience to guide me through this. And I have seen Yujin, her happiness, her smile, the glow around her. That's a woman that has good sex all the time, so please, tell me your secret."

"I'm the secret, Yena. Do you want to take me from Yujin?" You stand up straight, face stern as Yena looks up at you, helpless and needy. "Finish up your milkshake, we'll take this somewhere else. Don't forget your present."

You picked out a nearby hotel, actually the first one that crossed your eyesight. As is often the case, you underestimated how high end these places can actually be. You already consider making this your home for the week your flat becomes unlivable. Minju won’t say anything against it, Yujin though might want something even more posh and polished.

Good thing that you decided to wear that brown thousand dollar suit that makes you look like a mixture between gangster and manager, otherwise bringing a fully costumed stranger with you would have been an eye raiser. Now you're just some less important person bringing a celebrity to their room.

But it's your room, your money, your decision what’s about to happen. Yena walks in after you and stands in the middle of the vast, cozy room, adorned with all kinds of paintings, a carpet on a wooden floor, an impeccable color scheme from the darkest of brown to a soft beige. You sit down on the bed and look at the still dressed idol expectantly.

"Hm, which present do you want to open first: mine or yours?" you ask her, voice in deep thought as Yena removes her glasses once more.

"I-I don't know what you mean by your present but I think I'll open this."

Yena taps the wrapped box nervously, hoping for some kind of reaction from your part, but you leave her hanging and after agonizing seconds she begins to rip into the colorful wrapping paper. Yena opens the lid beneath and her eyes open wide.

"I know what you want, Yena. Don't underestimate me. Be blunt, be honest, most importantly,

"Be my good little pet, hm?"

Yena takes deep breaths when she pulls out a long, silver chain with a leather handle on one end and her favorite collar on the other. There is more inside it though: a pink feeding bowl with a cute kitten on it as well as a bullet vibrator, its cord and remote and a thigh strap.

Yena drops the box and most items on the creme carpet when you put her chin between two of your fingers and tilt it up. She looks dreamy, you must have hit the spot to activate endless sexual possibilities and the urge to succumb to them right now. Honestly, you too have always wondered what it would be like to have a pet cat and now she is right here, ready to purr for you.

"What are you?" you ask, quietly, firmly, unmistakable power in your eyes. Yena melts in your fingers.

"Masters... good pet."

"Very good. After I have opened up my present, I expect my kitten to get into character. Because that is what good kittens do."

Without ever breaking eye contact, you begin to pop open the buttons of Yena's overcoat until it's time for the zipper to open up the curtains. In the meantime Yena loses her hat—maybe her mind along with it. You are in no rush to have her bare before you, after all, you left the world of haste and constant work behind. It's time to indulge in this thrilling moment, feel every second of this new life.

"Wow, what a beautiful kitten I have," you coo when you look at the skimpy stage outfit on Yena's body, a radical contrast to the all covering black of her overcoat which is thrown behind the bed. The shortest of white shorts and a crop top that barely fits her are all that's left to hide Yena's private parts.

"Now, how about I give my kitten the proper accessories, hm? C'mon, get the collar."

She is in a bit of a daze, your kitten, clumsily bowing down and reaching for the chain. Before she can straighten her back, you kick it out of her hand, and sigh deeply in disappointment.

"No, no, no, not like that. Get it like the little kitten you are."

The kick had her stunned, hurt a bit even, but now she knows what to do. Teaching your pet how to behave properly comes first, before any fun tricks can be trained. Yena begins to kneel and crawls to the collar. She picks the leather handle up with her teeth and carries it to you.

"Good girl, you've done very well." Your praise comes with another reward. The tips of your fingers begin to scratch and tickle Yena's chin and she calmly purrs, lays her cheek into your hand, fuck, she isn't even cat coded anymore—

—she is living this.

"Kitten, I have many obligations, you know? Caring for Yujin is a handful too. But you, you'll be a good kitten for your Master, won't you? You'll never cause me any trouble, right?”

Yena responds with rapid nods. From her point of view, you are doing her a huge favor, with or without the approval of Yujin. She thinks you are taking risks and loves you for it. Her devotion is only natural, so you happily offer her a couple of fingers to suck on.

While Yena indulges in getting her drool all over your fingers, you get the tight collar around her throat. It's a good thing that she already sent you this one, a different kind might not have been such a perfect fit. This one looks so natural on her and the thin chain is a great addition.

"My kitten has fine taste. I think she deserves some belly rubs."

If she had a tail, Yena would probably swing it around in excitement. She won't go long without one, you already have plans of buying hundreds of toys for her—well, okay, these "plans" are just now forming, you’ll have to adjust the shopping list later—and a tail is at the top of that list.

Purrs when Yena rolls over playfully, her arms and feet stretched away from her like paws and thanks to that crop top, you have perfect access to her midriff. The moment you touch her navel, she unexpectedly kicks upwards, right into your chest. A stinging pain, one you have to swallow down with a heavy gulp. That's how they are, wild, young, untrained pets.

Nevertheless, they have to be taught properly. A good punishment is an essential part of their training.

"Some lying pet you are!” you snap at her. “How fucking dare you kick your Master!"

Yena wanted to make a deal with the devil, a deal to be your pet. Unlike Minju or even Hyewon, she wants to be your literal property, not your girl, property and not a human. The treatment has to match the deal.

You easily lift the petrified idol-turned-kitten off the ground and place her bend over on your lap. Yena's cute, firm little butt is in your striking zone, while she desperately turns to face you. You hook a finger into her waistband and pull her shorts down to the folds of her asscheeks.

"Are you sorry, Kitten, for kicking your Master?" you ask Yena with a deeply judging tone. She nods with a deeply sorry expression. "Say that you're sorry!"

"I-I'm sorry, Master. I was a dumb kitten." Not enough meows in that sentence, but you will work on that later.

"What do you think you deserve now, kitten?"

"I de-deserve to be punished by Master.”

"That is right, kitten." You barely touch Yena's butt with the tips of your fingers, and she is already stiffening, readying for impact. To her surprise, your digits rather gently dig into her small cheeks and massage them in preparation. "But are you really sorry?"

"Yes, Master, yes I am—ah!"

The first hit always stings the most, to the point where involuntary tears stream down one's face and lips quiver uncontrollably. You don't let your hand rest on the red spot, instead lifting it up and striking again to make Yena's butt sore all over.

"You don't mean these words. I will have to hit you more."

"N-no, please!" Yena tries to push her upper body up but you make sure to keep her down, pinned to your thighs. "Master, I really, really am sorry!"

Another slap, straight on the same spot, enough to make Yena squirm out a pained meow. In the ensuing set of a dozen hits, six on each beautiful ass cheek, your kitten winces more and more, like a cat hurt in the wild. It tugs at your heart strings, surprisingly, but you continue regardless. When the set is finished, your fingers travel down Yena’s creek to her pussy.

"Do you like to be hit, kitten?" you ask calmly, two fingers gliding across Yena's labia, finding her clit. Yena purrs and shakes her head. "Do you think you need more punishment?"

"No, Master. Please, stop. I'll be a good kitten for you. I’m sorry."

Those dreamy, teary, glassy eyes—could they ever lie?

"I believe you.” A small pat on her head. “God, you are very cute, your hair is so silky and your little entrance is already getting wet." You remove your digits and show the tiny strings of arousal that remain in between when you spread them before her eyes.

You take your time, again, no reason to rush. Climb on the bed, watch Yena rest on her knees before it. A light tug at the chain and Yena gets it. Today, she'll be allowed on the bed, just for this special occasion.

"Thank you, Master," she purrs and you comb through the pink, smooth hair. You give her a final smile before getting behind her. Belts and pants have never stopped you from getting what you need, to the point you'll probably disregard them entirely in the future.

This future in your home, with all these girls; Yujin and Minju already live there, Eunbi and Hyewon will surely follow. Chaewon is a wild card, probably a couple of sessions away from any commitment. And then there is Yena.

Will she commit to being your pet full time? Or is this a one off thing for her, to get rid of all the sexual tension you feel on her soaked and hot pussy lips that graze your tip? The extent of her kink is still a mystery to you.

"Relax, my little kitten, here comes your favorite cock.”

How can she know if this is her favorite? It's been ages since something this big and girthy has spread her open, pushed past any tension and made her feel full. Comparing this to those she had in the past is impossible—but not because of the difference in time or position or foreplay.

The comparison fails because your massiveness makes Yena's brain short circuit. All stages of humanity and human behavior are shut off; when your tip presses against her cervix, she goes straight to purring, meowing more than moaning.

Yena is incredibly tight, mostly because this is the first time she has something so big inside her, you assume, so you give her time for adjustments, slow movements, even slower rubs on her back, then her belly.

"Let's get rid of this." And you do get rid of her top, see her small breasts jiggle, the tiny, hard nipples too, when Yena is ready to move on her own.

Her kitten butt moves in a mesmerizing dance, not only a linear back and forth, but a subtle shimmy from side to side. You get to see your cock glazed in her sweet juice, then it disappears in that cavern again. Up to this point, you're just kneeling behind your kitten, undressing further and further, sometime pulling the chain to get her back into that doggy position—it seems that she likes the slow fuck.

"You are such a good kitten," you groan and lean towards Yena's ear until she can't push backwards anymore. "What do you say, next time we're alone, you get some ears and a tail?"

"Bu-but Master," Yena murmurs, face now in the mattress because you start pushing yourself into her. "What about Yujinnie, your girlfriend?"

"Don't you want to stay with us? Get head pats from my good baby girl too?"

Don't give her time to think about it. This revelation of your open and rather complex relationship might have been too early. So thrust harder into her and make the entire bed shake, her brain a useless mush. Yena's toes curl as she bites the sheets below her and lifts her ass a bit higher for easier access. She gets wetter and tighter, a clear sign of enjoyment, of thrill that is soon to be bliss.

Without warning you yank at the chain. Yena chokes hard, quickly getting back into the doggy position which you immediately use to fuck her roughly against the backboard of the bed.

The chain in your hand, the thought of a personal pet and its snug cunt make you greedy for your own orgasm which always comes before hers, however only in terms of relevance. Yena has finally adjusted to your width, length and the harsh grip you exert on her collar. She drools and purrs, until an ultimate, mindless scream leaves her mouth. Her knees begin to buckle as she cums on your length, that pistoning length, in and out of her cunt, completely disregarding her sensitivity.

"Oh, looks like my kitten is wetting herself. Look, you're ruining the sheets! Such a dumb little pet."

Yena doesn't even hear the taunting. She holds onto some pillows, then the backboards, as you applaude her for the resilience by fucking faster and making the pelvis on ass sounds louder and louder.

"Me-me-meow~" Yena's irises disappear in her head. The idol has fully become your kitten; in due time to you surrendering to the tight grip of her cunt by cumming. A day's worth of semen, directly into her womb, and you tell yourself that she is safe today. She has to be, otherwise she wouldn't have agreed to your dick inside her.

"Ma-Master, so much," Yena breathes and her paws try to remove all the sticky hair from her sweaty face.

"You better not spill it on the sheets, kitty. Keep it inside your pussy, all of it." You pull out and immediately get up close with the pink snatch. Yena clenches her muscle, trying to force her pussy to stay shut.

"So, so much—I can't ho-old it!"

With that said, Yena loses some of your precious cream. She just lets it fall out of her in an incredibly lewd display that has you smiling at her embarrassed expression. In a scramble of genius and horniness, you find the bullet vibrator and shove it inside Yena’s cunt before she can ruin more of the bed. Her ensuing moan is music to your ears.

"I guess my kitten is not yet potty trained. We need to change that as soon as we can.

"Wouldn’t you agree?"

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #male reader smut #choi yena smut #yena smut

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 9 months ago

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Training

Joe Rantz X Ulbrickson!Reader

Summary: When Joe Rantz meets his coach's daughter. He develops a crush...

Warning: 18+/ blowjob/ Swearing/ Mean Joyce (she's a sweetheart, but in this, she's annoying)/ historical sexism/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: Guys! I just watched The boys in the Boat and I'm in love with Joe Rantz. Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy❤️

The first training for the new rowing team. Al Ulbrickson, his daughter and other people made their way to the dock. ‘’Honey, can you go upstairs? The boys need their maximum focus, it’s their first training and I don’t want them to be distracted by you.’’ Her father asked. Normally, she would’ve complained, saying it wasn’t fair. But her father was already stressed, so she nodded and went upstairs, to watch the training while she did her homework. She was studying to be a teacher, even though it wasn’t her first choice, she wanted to help design the boats, but engineering wasn’t an option for woman. ‘’Distracting, yeah, my outfit is distracting, its like a million degrees outside, try wearing a blouse!’’ she whispered, complaining about her father. She also wore pants, just like her mother. She liked skirts, but pants were better. She pulled her things out of her bag and started to work.

He was exhausted and his body hurt. The other guys on the team went away, but when he saw a light upstairs, he decided to let his curiosity win. She heard footsteps coming up, but when a man that was not her dad opened the door, she was surprised. But she recognized him, he was in class with her. ‘’Oh, sorry I thought the room was empty. ‘’ He said. ‘’Hey you’re Joe Rantz, right?’’ she asked. He looked at her, he thought that she was beautiful, and really cool for wearing pants. ‘’Yeah, but I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.’’ he said, shyly. ‘’Don’t worry, I’m Y/n’’ she extended her hand. They shook hands. His were rough, it showed that his body was tired. ‘’Rough day?’’ she asked. ‘’Yeah, what are you doing up here alone?’’ he asked. ‘’Uh, my dad is, uh, the coach’’ she mumbled. ‘’And he didn’t want me to be by the dock, he was scared that I would distract the boys.’’ She was nervous, but for no reason at all. He was really handsome, and it intimidated her, usually, she didn’t have trouble speaking with boys. But that blonde boy was making it hard to look at him in the eyes. ‘’Well, he’s right, you’re really pretty, and I would’ve been distracted.’’ He flirted. She blushed and bit her bottom lip. Just when she was going to say something, her dad comes in the office. ‘’Y/n let’s – Joe, what are you doing here?’’ he asks. ‘’Nothing coach, I, uh, I thought someone let one of the lights open, so I came to check’’ he stutters. ‘’It’s okay, dad, he and I have a class together, I know him’’ Y/n came to his rescue. ‘’Alright, go home, get some rest. Come on Y/n, I’ll bring you back to your dorm.’’ He spoke. She decided to stay on campus, she wanted her parents to have the house for themselves and she wanted the hole experience.

Weeks passed since they first met, they kept talking and they sat next to each other in class. But now, he couldn’t be fins, today was the first race and coach wanted them to be there early. Joe was at the library, when he was about to leave, a girl he went to school with stopped him. ‘’You’re Joe Rantz, I remember you, you had a huge crush on me in 4th grade’’ Joyce rambled. Joe wanted nothing more than leave, to avoid being late, but Joyce was holding him. Y/n was running in the halls to try and find the missing blonde, when she ran past the library, she finally found him, with Joyce. She entered the room, sweating from the running she just did. ‘’Finally, Joe!’’ she said, walking up to him. Joyce stared at her, judging her. ‘’Joe, we have to go, you’re almost late.’’ She panted. ‘’Hi, I’m Joyce! And this is Joe, but he’s nervous right now, so he’s not very chatty’’ she said. Y/n wanted to roll her eyes, but she managed to put a fake smile on her lips. ‘’Nice to meet you, and I know who he is. Come on’’ he was packing his stuff as Joyce walked away. ‘’By the way, did you ever lose that crush?’’ she teased as she left the room. Joe wanted to explain that she was just a friend, and an annoying fan. ‘’Y/n – ‘’ she cut him off. ‘’I don’t care, explain later, you have to go!’’ she rushed him.

He'd just won the race! He felt so happy! He’d work so hard to get there, and now he just won his first race. She felt so happy! Her dad’s team just won! They were gonna have a party to celebrate. She decided to leave to go and get ready, she had the perfect dress for the occasion. It was a baby blue long dress with small puffy short sleeves. It was simple, but really pretty, she let her long hair down and putted white heels on. 2 hours later, she stepped inside the reception room, with the loud music. She didn’t see Joe, but he saw her. The second she stepped in the room, he spotted her. Joyce was becoming a problem, not wanting to leave him. ‘’Joyce, you’re really great, but please I need space.’’ He said, trying not to sound mean. The second she left him, Joe almost ran to Y/n. She saw him walking towards her, Joyce was not with him, so she smiled. ‘’Hi!’’ he said. She had to lean in to reach his ear do they could hear the other. ‘’Hi, congratulations on the win!’’ she said. He had trouble hearing her. After they tried to yell in the other’s ear, the decided to go somewhere quiet. They went to her dorm room, she was on the first floor, the only room there. Being the Coach’s daughter had its privileges. When she shut the door, they were both standing up. ‘’Look, Y/n about earlier. – ‘’ he begun. ‘’Joe, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re an adult, you do what you want, with who you want, as long as it doesn’t affect the team, your okay’’ she said, hiding the pain in her voice. She didn’t want him to be with Joyce. She developed a crush on him over the past weeks. He did too, he thought she was amazing, and so smart. ‘’Y/n, I don’t care about Joyce. And I don’t have a crush on her, I have a crush on you!’’ he confessed, his confession wasn’t supposed to be heard. She blushed and smile. ‘’I, uh, I’m sorry I – ‘’ she cut him off by quickly kissing him. She kissed him before her brain starts to panic. When they broke the kiss, he was red, so was she. ‘’I have a crush on you too, Joe’’ she admitted. She saw that he was not believing what just happened, so she pulled him by the tie and kissed him again. ��’You deserve a reward for your win today’’ she whispered.

He wasn’t a virgin, but he wasn’t the most experienced person on earth. When she said those words, he thought he was going to faint. ‘’I know your stiff, and we don’t want to make it worse, sit down’’ she said, pointing her bed. He didn’t know what she was going to do, but when she straddled his lap to kiss him, he knew that she was in charge. ‘’You’re okay with this?’’ she asked him. He nodded and kissed her again. ‘’You trust me?’’ he nodded again. She felt him get hard underneath her, so when she dropped to her knees, she took his pants with her. He never got sucked before, the guys on the team said it was amazing, he was about to find out. She spat on his dick, before taking him in her mouth. He was big, but she’d done it before, so she didn’t gag. She started to bob her head at a medium pace, not wanting to torture him, but not making him cum too fast. ‘’Holy shit’’ he moaned as his hand found her hair. He felt really good, he was so excited. He just won a race, and the girl he has a crush on, feels the same thing, and is currently sucking him off. He was in heaven. She felt him jerk his hips a little, after all, he didn’t do it for a long time. And he had roommates, it was hard to jerk off. She took him further down her throat, making him moan again. ‘’Y/n, oh my, this is a-a-amazing. Shit’’ his brain was starting to malfunction. She felt him twitch in her mouth, she moaned on his dick. The vibration from the sound she just made drove him crazy. ‘’ I’m gonna cum, shit Y/n, I’m gonna – ‘’ his sentence was cut short by his orgasm. His sperm went down her throat as she swallowed. He was feeling euphoric. She got up, wiping her mouth. She smiled at him, seeing how beautiful he was.

‘’Thank you, it was amazing.’’ He praised her. She blushed and looked at him while he laid down in her bed. She went to lay next to him. ‘’I’m really proud of you, Joe Rantz’’ she whispered. ‘’And I really like you, Y/n Ulbrickson’’ he said, kissing the top of her head. ‘’When you win in Berlin, would you let me wear the gold medal?’’ she asked him. ‘’Of course I will, so does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?’’ he asked. ‘’Do you want me to be your girlfriend?’’ she asked, joy in her voice. ‘’I would love for you to be my girlfriend’’ he replied. ‘’Then yes, I’m your girlfriend, Joe.’’

#joe rantz x reader #joe rantz #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #callum turner #boys in the boat

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somethinginthewayiam · 5 months ago

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The girl behind the bar (Part 1)

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: language, high-quality banter

words: 2.7k

Summary: You freshly moved to San Diego and were in desperate need for a job. That's how you wandered into the Hard Deck, following the "Help Wanted" sign in the window. Not only is it your first time working in a bar, the crowd it hosts is also very new to you and one navy pilot in particular managed to get under your skin quite qickly...

a/n: I've started working on this story back in November 2023 and haven't touched it since February 2024. I'm halfway through the main story line but I'm kinda stuck. I hope showing you guys gets the wheels working again. Feedback is much appreciated!!

Link to my masterlist

“Hello?”, you asked as you entered the bar. It was a big room with a round bar counter in the middle of it. Tables and booths were spread across the space and hundreds of beer mugs were hanging from the ceiling. But besides that, the room was empty.

“Hello?”, you called out again, a little louder this time. An older man came through a door to your left, a dish towel hanging over his right shoulder and a trey of empty glasses in his hands. “Oh, hey there”, he said as he laid eyes on you. “Hi. I saw the ‘Help wanted’ sign outside”, you explained your early visit to the establishment, pointing towards the door.

“Penny!”, he called out. “Oh no, my name is Y/N”, you corrected him. “Penny’s the boss, darling”, he said and walked past you with a grandfatherly smile to put the trey on the bar counter.

“Sorry”, you said and felt your cheeks burning up. Great first impression, you thought to yourself with embarrassment. “What is it, Jimmy?”, a tall brunette came out of the same door the man had just appeared from. “This girl’s here for the job”, Jimmy told his boss and pointed at you before he started putting away the glasses under the bar.

“Hi”, you said to her when she looked at you. “Penny”, she said and extended her hand with a smile. “Y/N”, you replied as you shook it. “Come with me to my office, I got a few minutes”, Penny said and led you to a booth nearby.

“So, you want to work at a bar?”, she opened the impromptu job interview. “Ehm, yes”, you said and it came out like a question. “Have you ever worked at a bar?”, she asked further. “No, but I learn really quickly and I’m good with people”, you hastily explained. “Tell me a bit about yourself”, Penny continued with a warm smile.

“I just moved here from New Jersey. Two days ago, actually. I’m a hard worker and I really need the job to pay rent, so you can be sure I’ll show up every day super motivated”, you told her and tried to cover your anxiety with humor like you always did.

“This bar is the hot spot for the naval base her in North Island, so a lot of guys with all sorts of ego and authority issues. You’re sure you can handle that?”, she asked and narrowed her eyes a little bit. “I had all kinds of jobs dealing with difficult people”, you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m confident about handling a bunch of drunk guys”, you continued.

Penny looked at you in silence, contemplating your words. “Alright, let’s try it”, she finally said after what felt like forever. “Really?”, you asked surprised. “Yes. We are closed on Mondays, so you’ll have to work every day for the rest of the week. We’ll talk again after your first weekend shift, they’re our busiest nights. If I’m happy with your work and you’ll like it, too, we’ll see where we go from there”, she explained to you and a big smile formed on your face. You shook her extended hand, sealing the verbal contract.

“Jimmy will show you anything. We open at five”, she said and scooted out of the booth and led you over to the bar circle. That was in three hours, you noticed as you looked at the big clock hanging on the wall behind the bar. Suddenly you became very nervous. Somehow you hadn’t thought that you would be working the same day.

She formally introduced you to Jimmy, the other bartender that was working here and that Penny got along with the bar she had purchased three years ago.

“Disrespect a lady, the navy or put your cellphone on my bar – you buy a round. These are the three golden rules in this bar”, she said as she recited the plaque that was hanging in the middle of the bar circle on the middle counter. “If anyone disobeys the rules, we ring the bell”, she continued and reached her hand out and rang a big bell that was hanging from the ceiling and the loud noise rang through the empty bar. “And then what?”, you asked a bit irritated. “Then they have to buy a round for the whole place”, she answered your question with a smile that let you know that she liked it when that happened.

“Wow, that sounds expensive when the bar is full, right?”, you asked. “It is and therefore the rules shall not be broken”, Jimmy chimed in and a deep chuckle escaped his lips. You had to chuckle, too, at his words. “And if they can’t pay, it’s Overboard”, he added and winked at you. “They get thrown out”, Penny answered your inaudible question as you raised your eyebrows. “Okay”, you said and it sounded like a question. “Just wait for it, you’re gonna love it”, Jimmy told you and knocked on the bar counter.

“Okay, I’m gonna leave you two for now. Jimmy, you’re gonna take good care of our new girl”, Penny said and walked out behind the bar. “Sure thing, boss”, he promised with a nod. “We’ll take care of the paper work tomorrow”, she said to you before she left through the door again.

Jimmy spent the rest of the time until opening to give you the basic instructions on how to pour the most common drinks, work the register and running tabs.

Your first ever shift in a bar, you spent mostly handing out drinks that Penny or Jimmy had prepared, opening bottles of beer and cleaning up the empty glasses off the tables. Before you knew it, Penny called out the last call of the night and sent you home as you had finished cleaning up.

Your feet hurt like hell and your back was killing you when you fell into bed but you were happy that you had found a job. Penny and Jimmy seemed nice and you were sure you would get the hang of the whole bartender thing.

Two days later you worked your first Thursday, which according to Penny, would be your first busy night. You had the basics somewhat down but you were still nervous about the evening rush.

You had just started your shift and always spent the first hour restocking the bar, checking the register and wiping down the counter one more time.

When Penny opened the doors at 5 PM a few people already started to come in but thankfully it was still slow going. Penny went back to her little back-room office at the end of the little corridor where you would also find the storage room and the restrooms for the guests.

You were at the bar alone and spent your time cutting some limes. A man sat down at the bar, putting his phone on the counter. “Hi, what can I get you?”, you asked him as you noticed your new customer and wiped your hands on your apron. “A Whiskey please”, he said and gave you a friendly smile. He looked a bit older, maybe in his early fifties? But he still looked very good.

You nodded and grabbed a tumbler from under the bar. Then you turned around and looked at the dozen liquor bottles behind you. You had no clue what a Whiskey bottle looked like.

“Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey”, you mumbled to yourself under your breath. Or so you thought.

“On the far right”, you heard behind you. When you looked over your shoulder, the man pointed at the right end of the line of liquor bottles. You smiled apologetically and walked over. You still didn’t reach for a bottle immediately. “Second from the right”, he added and you finally found the right bottle.

“Thank you”, you told him with an apologetic smile and felt your cheeks getting warm. You were sure they were turning a red color as you filled his glass about an inch tall.

“I’m still new”, you explained your incompetence for fulfilling a simple drink order. “They often keep them in alphabetical order”, he told you and winked at you almost in a fatherly manner, like he had shared a secret to life with you. And in your current situation, he really did.

You turned around and looked at the bottles from left to right. “Huh, she really did. Thank you”, you said to him when you turned back around. “I’ll pretend I didn’t just notice that after three days of working here”, you told him and made it sound like you were sharing a secret with him, too. He chuckled into his glass before he took a sip. His phone buzzed and when he picked it up, he turned away from you to answer a text.

You turned around as well and took a look at the line of liquor bottles, trying to memorize their order. “Y/N, can you get this in the back and bring the next case of beer?”, Penny asked of you as she appeared in the circle. “Yeah sure”, you agreed and took the empty box from her hands.

“You gotta be kidding me”, you heard her say and thought she was talking to you, but when you looked up, you saw her staring at the man with the Whiskey.

“Pete”, she said. The man looked up and turned back around. “Penny?”, he asked, clearly surprised to see her here. And yet this one word carried so much, you felt like you shouldn’t be here.

“I’ll get the beer”, you excused yourself and left the two to themselves. Before you finally left the room, you turned around at the door and saw how they looked at each other. There was definitely some history there. You bit your lip to hide a smile and finally left for the storage room.

When the evening rush hit, you were overwhelmed by the number of orders coming from every side. Damn circle. The three of you tried to handle every order as fast as you could. Penny and Jimmy had a certain ease to them, moving quickly but without haste. You on the other hand ran around like a startled chicken, always bumping into Penny and Jimmy and seemingly always being in their way.

“Here you go”, you said as you handed three bottles of beer to a man, putting the money in the register, already receiving the next order from a woman to your left.

A blonde man in a khaki navy uniform appeared through the crowd, commanding his place at the front of the line. “Three beers”, he said. “Just a moment”, you told him and bent down to grab the tall beer glasses for beers from tap and walking over to the middle of the circle to fill them up.

“Come on, I ain’t got all night”, he said with an annoyed tone in his voice after just a few seconds of waiting. “I’ll be right there”, you told him again, sounding more and more desperate.

You didn’t pay him any more attention as you were in the middle of drawing a beer but he suddenly appeared again in the corner of your eye. When you looked over, you found him behind the bar, just grabbing three beers out of the cooler and prying the caps off with the metal opener. “Hey!”, you called out, putting down the glass you were holding. “Put them on my tab”, he just said and walked in front of the bar again.

"I don't even know who you are", you said surprised by his cockiness. "Name's Hangman. And you gotta be quicker if you wanna earn some tips, sweetheart", he said and winked at you. "And you will never drink here again if I ever catch you behind my bar again", Penny said as she appeared behind you, handing two tumblers with a brown liquid to another guy at the counter. "Your girl needs to be faster if she doesn't wanna start a riot", he said with a southern accent and a cocky expression on his face before he turned around and disappeared in the crowd. You noticed him coming back out at the dartboard as you couldn’t stop looking at him. His boldness fascinated and angered you to no end.

“Hangman…is he for real?”, you asked Penny when you turned around again. “That’s his call sign as a pilot. They all got one”, she explained to you as she added the drinks to his tab. “Most of them go by their call sign even outside of base”, she continued. “His real name is Jake”, she added, all while keep preparing drinks and handing them out. With a cock of her head, she motioned you to open some beers and she handed them out.

"You can't let them walk over you like that, you need to command your space. And your space right now is this bar", she told you. Normally you weren't too shy to talk back, but since you were new, you still needed to test the waters. But you took this as Penny's permission to be a bit mouthier to customers if needed.

You looked over at the dartboard where Hangman played with another guy in Khaki uniform. “Jake”, you mumbled his real name under your breath. And just like he had heard you, he looked over to you, winked and threw the dart into bulls eyes while still looking at you. He probably expected you to be impressed or swoon, but instead you rolled your eyes so hard at him that you feared they would get stuck.

A little while later, when the rush was over and you had time and room to breathe, Hangman and two of his buddies came over for another round. "Three beers, sweetheart. And don't make me come back there again", he said and gave you another wink, paired with a sly smile. It took everything you had not to pull a face of disgust.

Pretty boys like him always thought they owned the world. You learned quite early on that guys like him never even looked your way, let alone were interested in you. And because of that you learned to push down any interest you might have in them and cover it with sarcasm and wit.

Instead of an answer, you opened three bottles and placed them from right to left, Hangman being the last. "8,50. 8,50. 12 Dollars", you said as you placed the beers in front of the men. "Hey, why's mine more expensive?", Hangman asked with knitted eyebrows. "Douchebag tax. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him and now it was your turn to shoot him a cocky grin while you collected the money from his friends.

“You wanna pay cash or want me to put it on your tab?”, you asked him, an image of innocence. He looked at you a bit stunned by your boldness. He probably wasn’t used to be spoken to like that.

"Come on, I ain't got all night", you told him and let him hear the impatience in your voice. “Put it on my tab”, he answered after a few moments, unsure what to make of your behavior and took a sip. You turned around and put his latest drink into the register.

“Anything else I can get you, gentlemen?”, you asked but looked only at his friends. They answered with a smile and a shake of their heads, seemingly enjoying the way you treated their friend and colleague.

The three of them kept sitting at the bar but you took care of other customers.

When Penny rang for last round, she served them their final beers of the night and closed their tabs as you started to collect the empty glasses from the tables.

Just as you walked past the dartboard with a full trey of empty glasses and bottles, Hangman took a step back and smashed into you. The glasses clinked together loudly but somehow you managed not to drop any of them. Your whole body stiffened until the glasses stopped shaking.

“Whoa, gotta be careful there. You don’t want 7 years of bad luck if you break them”, was his only comment. Not sorry for running into you because I’m too arrogant to be aware of my surroundings. “I already met you tonight, it can’t get any worse than that. Also, that’s mirrors not glasses”, you told him with an annoyed sigh and let the unspoken jerk hanging in the air as you walked back to the bar.

“Oh, we’re gonna have a lot of fun”, Hangman said to himself under his breath as he watched you walking away.

next chapter: Part 2

#jake hangman seresin #the girl behind the bar #jake hangman seresin x plus-size reader #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #glen powell #glen powell imagine #glen powell fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction

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itstheghostofmypast · 9 months ago

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15.07

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?

Genre: PURE FLUFF

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: 2.1K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING

@edenesth version: [12.58]PM

"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.

Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.

"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."

Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"

"No, why?"

"Do you like cats?"

"Yeah, why?"

He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.

The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.

"Can I put the litter here?"

"All your windows are locked right?"

"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."

"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."

"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"

He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.' Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.

"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.

Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.

She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.

"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "

"I'm taking her to the vet."

"She's shivering."

"Okay, my car isn't working!"

'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."

"They say she has a fever, some bug?"

"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."

"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."

"San plz reply soon."

"San I'm scared."

Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.

"San!"

His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.

"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."

It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”

“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”

After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.

Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."

Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.

Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"

"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"

"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.

"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."

"What an analogy." she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."

"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.

“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”

Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”

“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”

“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”

Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.

“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.

“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

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bachissidehoe · 11 months ago

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“I already have a girlfriend, so stop asking me.”

“Oh you do? Congratulations Itoshi! Who is it?”

“Who is it Rin?”

“Who’s the lucky girl Rin?”

A bother. Rin thought saying something like that would get those damn reporters off his back. Why do they care so much if he has a girlfriend or not? He doesn’t even want one. But somehow not having one is worse than having one.

It may be best just to continue with the charade. Maybe having an actual real person to be his girlfriend would make them stop asking stupid fucking questions.

“Her.” He points to someone, a pretty girl he’s seen quite a few times. He knows her as a journalist for the Blue Lock organization, but he never cared to learn her name.

Seemingly, Rin’s charade worked. The reporters left him alone after that, finally allowing him to exist in peace.

However, Rin was not prepared for the aftermath of articles being sent to him, a meeting with his coach where he was considerably reprimanded, and a barrage of texts and calls from more reporters trying to get the latest gossip on the most famous striker in the world’s new relationship with a hot older journalist.

So he finds himself in her office the next day, his head down as she too reprimands him for involving her in this in the first place.

“That being said, it would make my ex jealous.” She states, leaning back in her office chair as if she’s a principal scolding a student.

And then the charade deepened, drawing new fans to the soccer scene who were just dying to obsess over a player x journalist fantasy romance story. Suddenly Rin realized he had caused the exact opposite of what he wanted, and now he has more reporters on his ass than ever. Who would have guessed that having a relationship would be worse for him than not having a relationship?

“You have to at least look like you want to be around me. People are wondering if we got in a fight.” She crosses her arms over her chest, looking at a picture from a newly released article on the two of them. Rin stands at least 4 feet away from her, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his gaze directed toward the ground.

“I went out with you. That’s not enough?” Rin rolls his eyes.

“No! We have to also look like we’re in a relationship!” She raises her voice, but drops it again when she realizes she may have been too harsh. “Just, you know, hold my hand or something.”

The normally expressionless striker suddenly finds himself beat red with his eyes wide. “Y-yeah. I get it.”

His fake girlfriend stares him down, refusing to let the short display of emotion pass them by. “Rin, have you ever done anything with a girl at all?”

“No.” He answers honestly.

“Ah, I see.”

That’s when she realized she’ll be taking the lead on this “relationship”. She finds herself both planning and coaching Rin through their “dates” and other public appearances, doing her best to prepare him for any questions they may be asked.

Maybe she’s taking this too seriously, but now they’re too deep to suddenly back out. She just has to go with it, wait at least a few months until she can announce a “breakup”. Hopefully then, that’ll be the end of it.

“I just want to let you know, it’s looking like at some point someone will ask you to kiss me for the camera.” She says, drawing her conclusion after reading the latest scoop on the two of them.

“I’ll just say no.”

“You’d refuse to kiss the girl you’re in love with?”

Rin pauses. “Hmph.” He understands his predicament.

“I figured we could just practice here, you know, since you’ve never done it before. That way you’re prepared.” She finds her cheeks growing redder, trying not to let the bottled up feelings from the last couple weeks get to her at a time like this.

It’s the same for Rin, who looks to the floor, the ceiling, and anywhere else besides her pretty eyes. Kissing her may be all it takes for him to acknowledge that maybe this isn’t as fake as he thought.

“Yeah. I guess that’s fine.” He finally answers.

So she balls her fists together, forcing herself to be mature about a measly kiss. “Look at me.”

He looks up with his eyes, though doesn’t raise his head.

So she lifts his head with her finger, just enough to bring it at an angle where she can meet his lips. He’s much taller than her, after all.

“Okay, just, close your eyes.” She whispers, they’re close enough now where she can hear his heart thumping and every short breath that escapes his slightly parted mouth.

Rin obliges, handing control over to his fake girlfriend, leaving his hands resting at his sides. He doesn’t know exactly what to do with them.

And she kisses him, just a lingering, closed-mouth peck. Her lips are so soft and warm, much different than kissing her cheek like he’s been doing for pictures. Even though it’s short, Rin can feel her hot breaths against his face.

“That was pretty good. There’s not much to it.” She says quietly, finding herself unable to move her hand away from its position under his chin.

“Hm.” Rin responds, his gaze still focused on the floor.

“Do you need to try again?” She asks, wondering if his lack of expression is due to him just not getting it.

“No.” He answers flatly.

“Oh.” His answer confuses her. Did he not like it? “Why not?” She can’t help but ask.

“I feel like I won’t want to stop.”

Continued in Part 2.

#itoshi rin #blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #rin fluff #fake girlfriend #bllk rin #blue lock rin #bllk headcanons #blue lock headcanons #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #Rin x reader fluff #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin one shot #bllk one shot

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aestheticaltcow · 6 months ago

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Proposal Gone Wrong

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

Murphy's Law: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. Carmy definitely didn't see this one coming.

No warnings, just fluff :)

The Bear Masterlist

“Hello?” you said, answering your phone. “Hey girlie, could you come in at about 7ish instead of 5:30? I don’t wanna rush your nails.” your brow furrowed at your nail tech's words. “What do you mean come in at 7ish? My appointment isn’t for like two more weeks.” “Oh, I thought that yummy chef of yours told you… he booked and prepaid for a full set.” you hummed in acknowledgment. “Okay…I’ll come in at 7ish. You want a coffee?” “That’s why you’re my favorite client, babes.”

You slipped your phone into your pocket and returned to the front counter. "Is everything okay?” your coworker Dev asked as you sat in front of your computer. You shrugged, “I guess Carmy booked a nail appointment for me. So sweet, right?”

Dev bit her lip to suppress a squeal, “He’s gonna propose to you, girl!” you scoffed at her reaction. There was no way Carmy was going to propose to you. Sure, the two of you had talked about getting married and buying a house, maybe havin’ a kid or two someday, but that was the caveat ‘someday.’ There was no confirmed timeline. It was just sweet post-sex pillow talk.

“Yea-yeah, I’m askin’ her. Can you steer her toward gettin’ somethin’ less… unique?” Carmy watched his words. You were known to get more interesting nails, claiming that your boring work clothes needed some fun. Carmy listened to your nail tech chortle on the other end of the phone and mentioned something about ‘clown nails’ but agreed to steer you toward something more minimalist. He grinned and said bye before hanging up the phone and texting her a picture of a 2-carat platinum pear-shaped diamond ring. Carmy stared at the small velvet box in his hand and imagined the ring adorning your finger. He closed the box and put it into his open desk drawer before quickly exiting the office to do his prep work for the evening’s dinner service.

Natalie slipped her jacket off as she walked into the kitchen from the back alley. “Bear. I’m here!” she yelled as she beelined to the office to get started on the paperwork Carmy had asked her help on. “Yo!” Carmy yelled without looking up from his station.

Before Natalie could sit at the desk, her phone started ringing. “Hello?” she answered. She held her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she reached for the laptop in the middle of the disorganized chaos Carmy called a desk. “Is Carmy going to propose to me?”

Natalie held her breath as she quickly thought of a believable lie: " Uh—not to my knowledge.” You didn’t believe her answer for a second. “Natalie, is he proposing to me?” you asked again more assertively. Natalie sighed as she leaned back in the office chair, “Y/N, I can’t answer that question.” she heard you groan through the phone, “I need to know. I don’t need to know when or how- is he going to propose to me?”

“Yes.”

It was nearing midnight when Carmy returned to your shared apartment. You were asleep on the couch with an open book on your chest. Carmy grinned and crept over making sure not to wake you. He leaned over the back of the couch and kissed your forehead softly. “Baby. Let’s get you to bed.” Carmy whispered as he squeezed your bicep. You stirred in your sleep and mumbled something Carmy couldn’t make out. “Baby, com’on, you know I can’t sleep without ya,” he grumbled and peppered your cheek in kisses. You let out a sleepy groan and rolled onto your side to escape his affection. Carmy chuckled as he walked around the couch. He took your book and dog-eared the page you’d been on before placing it on the coffee table. As he scooped you into his arms, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggled into the crook of his neck. Carmy smiled when he noticed your freshly manicured nails. He couldn’t wait to see the ring he’d bought you adorn your left hand.

Carmy woke up before his alarm went off the next morning. He watched the rise and fall of your chest as you peacefully slept beside him. He grinned and kissed your forehead before getting his phone off his bedside table. He turned his alarm off before responding to a text from Syd. You started to stir beside him as he hit send. Carmy put his phone down and pulled you onto his chest, he wrapped his arms around your waist as you mumbled a ‘Good morning’ sleepily. He smiled and kissed your head before lazily rubbing your waist.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” you questioned Carmy as he handed you a cup of coffee. He shook his head and leaned against the counter before drinking from his coffee cup. “Sugar helped out with paperwork last night, and it’s Syd’s ship tonight.” he casually explained as you narrowed your gaze at him.

“You’re taking a Saturday off?” you asked in disbelief, “You never take Saturday off.”

Carmy shrugged, “Takin’ my girl out on a date tonight.”

“What’s the occasion?” you questioned as you watched Carmy step forward. He shook his head. “No occasion. I just wanna take you out,” he said softly as he placed his hands on your hips. You looked up at him after your conversation with Natalie last night; tonight had to be the night he was asking. You swallowed as he kissed your temple.

“You wanna go out tonight, right?” Carmy asked as you put your mug down on the table behind you. You moved your arms around his neck and stared at him with a soft smile as you nodded. “Good. I have to run a couple errands, but I’ll be back soon.”

Tonight had to be the night. Natalie had confessed to Carmy wanting to propose. He paid for you to get your nails done. Took a Saturday night off of the restaurant. You sighed as you put your eyeshadow brush down. You wanted to marry Carmy; you really did. The idea of him asking sent you into a realm of anxiety you’d never experienced before. His specific brand of neuroticism was… unique. He was a perfectionist. You’d seen him scrub the grout on the kitchen floor with a toothbrush enough times to know that.

How the hell was he going to propose to you?

He probably planned everything down to the most minuscule detail, and if anything went wrong, he’d start spiraling and questioning the entire relationship. “Relax. Relax. Relax. Everything is going to be okay. It’ll work out. Carmy and I will get married in the South of France and then honeymoon in Greece. I’ll get pregnant in September and have the baby in June… it’ll all work out. Just relax.” you said with a deep breath. “Just finish getting ready.”

After retrieving the ring from The Bear and picking up a bouquet of peonies, Carmy felt more confident in his plan. He’d made a reservation at La Baquet, the restaurant he’d taken you on your first date, and it would be the perfect place to wine and dine before going to an indoor botanical garden that was doing some intricate light show he’d read about online. You would say ‘yes’; he was confident you would. As he walked into your apartment building that evening, he had a pep in his step.

“Hey baby, I’m back,” Carmy called as he walked into the apartment. He walked through the living room and into the master bedroom to see you pulling on a pair of fitted trousers; he admired how they hugged your hips. You smiled at him before gushing over the bouquet in his arms, “You got me flowers? They’re beautiful.”

Carmy shrugged nonchalantly, “Not as beautiful as you…” Carmy’s attempted flirting made you giggle. “Smooth one Berzatto. Very smooth.” you took the flowers from his arms and kissed his cheek before exiting the bedroom to get a vase from the kitchen. Carmy couldn’t help but check your ass out as you walked away. He shook his head and changed his shirt before pulling his infamous grey sweater over his head.

“Ready to go?” Carmy asked as he joined you in the kitchen. You nodded, “Let me grab my bag, and we can head out.”

“What the fuck…” Carmy trailed off as he stopped his car a little down the road from La Baquet. The Chicago Fire Department surrounded the restaurant, “Did it burn down?” you questioned, looking between him and where the restaurant had been in disbelief. Carmy scoffed exhaustedly, “Shit.”

“We can go somewhere else?” you suggested. As he put the car back into gear, Carmy mumbled something about a new pizza place not too far away. While it may not have been the farm-to-table French food that brought the two of you together, it was impossible not to enjoy eating pizza in the car with Carmy on a Saturday night.

“I found this place online, you’re gonna- the fuck?” Carmy scoffed as the two of you walked up to the botanical garden. There was a group of people yelling at the overwhelmed information attendant. Carmy dropped your hand and managed to get to the front of the group, “Yo calm the fuck down.” he yelled at the group as he gestured for everyone to step back. Carmy turned to face the information attendant, “Are you okay?” she shook her head in response. Carmy nodded, “Take a deep breath. Tell me what’s goin’ on.” he tried to be as calm as possible.

“It’s my first day—we’re understaffed, and the event organizers didn’t plan for this many people to come for the light show, and we’re shutting down. You can get a ticket refund on the website,” she stuttered as she explained the situation. Carmy frowned but nodded, “Okay… this would happen…” He chuckled as he flashed the attendant a sympathetic smile, “You got this.”

Carmy came back to you, clearly disappointed in his conversation with the attendant. “Is everything okay?” you asked; he shook his head.

“Everythin’ is goin’ wrong tonight. Just disappointed, I guess.” Carmy shrugged and put an arm around your shoulders as you returned to the car. You wrapped an arm around his waist, “Well, I still had fun, Bear. Now, the real question… do you wanna get ice cream from that place by your old apartment and then go home and let me put these pretty nails to use?” you asked looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Of course, baby.”

“I’m thinkin' brown butter chocolate. What bout you?” you asked Carmy as you scanned the tubs of ice cream displayed in the freezer case before you two.

“Are you sure, baby? It’s pretty close to the peanut butter,” he asked, concerned. “I’ll tell them about my nut allergy like I do every time. It’ll be fine.” your nonchalant tone regarding your allergy always annoyed Carmy. He watched the ice cream scooper change their gloves and rinse the scooper twice before packaging your order. It was never enough in his eyes.

“You know what, I always like your order better.” you laughed as you took another bite of Carmy’s ice cream. He rolled his eyes and scooted closer to you on the bench, “Have as much as you want, baby.” Carmy mumbled as he kissed your temple.

This wasn’t the night he’d planned. Carmy felt out of control but felt like this was the moment. With his free hand, he reached for the box that had been burning a hole in his pocket all night. “Tonight didn’t go as planned, and maybe it’s a sign, but uh…” Carmy started as he pulled the box from his pocket. “I love you so much, baby. Will you-” Carmy cut himself off when you started coughing. “Baby? Are you okay?” He put the box back in his pocket before shifting in his seat to look at you. You clutched your chest as you wheezed and coughed more intensely. “Epipen! Where’s your EpiPen?!”

“Carmy?” you asked, your voice muffled by an oxygen mask. You looked around your curtained-off bed and pushed yourself with your elbows. “Carmy?” you asked again as you pulled at the oxygen mask. The curtain opened, and you saw relief wash over Carmy’s face as he looked at you in the bed. “You scared the shit out of me, baby.” Carmy playfully scolded as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed. You shrugged, “Gotta keep you on your toes.” you struggled to get out as the oxygen mask now dangled around your neck. “We’re never goin’ back to that ice cream parlor. They don’t know shit bout cross-contamination.” Carmy scoffed as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“This’ll be a fun story to tell our kids, though.” You laughed as you lovingly looked at Carmy sitting on the edge of your bed. “The night Daddy proposed to me, I ended up going into anaphylaxis.” Carmy chuckled and was about to say something before you cut him off: “Yes, I would love to marry you, Carmy.”

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chiriwritesstuff · 11 months ago

Text

The Girl in IT - 2. Off to the Races

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Previous Chapter │ The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful." "The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration." "and the carnations?" "For fascination and enchantment." "Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?" He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Joel Miller is hungry and wants to EAT, Smut, One massive Tess sized-cockblock, Boss x Employee relationship, Time Jumping to and fro, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, Joel jumps right in, Explicit language, Did I mention smut?, Soft boy Joel Miller

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: You GUYS. YOU GUYS (!!!!!)

Thank you so much for all of the love for the first chapter of my silly little series with my even sillier Old Man Joel and his Sugar. I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the likes, reblogs, and comments from all of you, it really means a lot to me! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I have the first few chapters written and planned out, and I hope to post at least a new chapter once a week. I can't make any promises as I go back to work next week, but I will try. I apologize in advance if I skip a week, it is not my intention to let you guys down.

I hope you all enjoy!

Today.

[Hey Sugar, are you in your office right now?]

Yes, did you need something, Mr. Miller?

[Yes, actually, I do. I'll come to you, don't leave!]

A knock on the door startles you.

"Hey, Sugar?" Tommy Miller's voice rings out from the other side of the door. "Have you seen Joel? I know he said he had to ask you about something, but that was an hour ago-"

"Yeah?" you reply, almost in a whine, your head tipped back in pleasure as you try to muffle a scream. "Joel? No, haven't seen him around. No, not since this—"

There's a pause, and then Tommy's voice comes again, this time with a hint of amusement. "Still wrestling with his laptop, huh? The man can't even change his wallpaper without causing a crisis. I'll check his usual spots. If you see him, tell him Tess needs him in her office, pronto."

Just then, the muted sound of a cough under your desk catches your attention. You look down to find Joel, crouched beneath the desk with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Now, where were we?" he chuckles, his eyes meeting yours with a mischievous glint.

“Joel!” You smack him playfully as you roll your desk chair back. “Tess will have your head if you don’t show up soon!”

“But I’m starving, baby! Just let me have a little snack-“ he pulls your chair back to him as he situates himself under your desk, lifting your skirt as he smiles at the sight of your barely-there scrap of lace one would call underwear. “Shit baby, is this for me?” He lowers his head to your aching cunt, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you closer to his mouth. He rubs the tip of his nose along your slit, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips. He licks at your covered mound, the tip of his tongue adding just enough pressure for you to gasp out in pleasure. “I asked you a question, baby girl. Who did you wear these panties for?”

“You,” you say breathily, covering your mouth to muffle up your moans as he plants kisses along your thighs. “You, Mr. Miller. Only you.”

“Who owns this pretty pussy?”

"You do, Sir."

"Damn right, I do." Joel licks his lips as he pushes your panties aside, licking your clit. "Fuck, she's aching for me, isn't she?" He locks his eyes with yours, his mouth hovering over your pussy. "Can I?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to keep quiet.

Joel shakes his head, displeased with your answer. "No baby, use your words-" he growls, nipping at your thighs as you wince in pain.

"PLEASE Joel, keep going!" He smiles at your eagerness, licking and parting your folds with his tongue. He pins you against his face, tightening his hold on you as your body trembles.

"Fuck, you taste so fucking sweet-"

"JOEL!" Tess's voice reverberates through the hallway, the urgency evident in her heavy-footed approach, each step echoing past your office door. "Has anyone seen him?!"

Joel lets out an exasperated groan, his head dropping onto your lap as you suppress a giggle. "Duty calls, Mr. Miller. Can't keep your boss waiting, can you?"

"I am the boss, just so you're clear on that."

"Sure, Joel, keep telling yourself that."

Joel crawls out from under your desk with a grunt, stumbling onto the carpet with a thud. "I'm definitely too old for this shit," he mutters, trying to regain his footing.

"It's your list, Mr. Miller. You make the rules, I just help you execute it," you quip, smirking as you extend a hand to help him up.

He takes your hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He yanks you towards him, and you end up falling into his lap. "Right where I want you," he smirks, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You smile as he starts to kiss along your jaw. "You are insatiable."

"Only for you, Sugar."

"JOEL, FOR FUCKS SAKE!" Tess bellows from across the building.

"You better go before she breaks down all the doors," you wince as you give him a small frown. "Again."

Joel sighs, pressing one last kiss on your forehead. "Fine, but once I'm done with Ms. Pain in my ass-"

"You're going to go back to work like a good boy?" you reply sweetly, straightening out your skirt as Joel heads towards the door. He gives you one last glance as he turns the doorknob, a hungry look on his face.

"This isn't over, baby girl. When I come back, I expect to eat."

Ten years earlier.

"Joel! Tommy! Thank you so much for coming! Please, come in, come in!"

Joel straightens up and smooths out his flannel, nervously fiddling with his tool belt slung taut on his hips. He gives a curt nod to the client, turning to his side expecting to find Tommy next to him. His eyes narrow at the empty space. "Tommy, you fuck," he hissed under his breath at his brother, who was casually smoking a cigarette off to the side of the client's perfectly manicured lawn. "Put that out and stop fucking around, we're getting paid for this shit!"

Tommy takes a long drag, exhaling a long plume of smoke before flicking the cigarette onto the street. "This is small-time shit, Joel. We should be playing with the big dogs, not wasting our time doing residential work. How much was the bid?"

"20."

"Bullshit. This is no more than 5, and you know it. It's just a fucking scorched roof, and at only one side, it's not even a complete replacement."

Joel scoffs at his brother, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Have you seen the size of this fucking house? We're in fucking Westlake Hills, for fucks sake. Think of the potential! Maybe we can convince them to replace the entire roof, replace their windows... fuck, I just want to make a good impression!"

"Oh, so is that why you're dressed like a fucking moron? Cowboy boots? Really? You're 46, not 26." he appraises him as he makes his way towards the front of the house. "Don't tuck in your shirt, man. I can see your fucking beer belly from here!" Tommy looks towards the front door, the client having already retreated into the home. He cocks his head and whispers to his older brother. "Is the wife hot? Shit. Maybe I should have run a comb through my hair-"

"They want this project done in a month."

Tommy whips his head towards Joel. "Are you fucking KIDDING ME? JOEL-"

"Boys!" The client's voice cuts through the building tension between the brothers, a sweet conspiratory smile on her face. "Are you coming?" She looks out into the distance beyond the brothers, a big smile blooming across her face. "Oh, Sugar! come and meet the boys who are fixing up the roof, you know, the side where your antenna thing exploded?" She beckons to the figure who was suddenly behind them, motioning her to join their conversation.

She's a sweet little thing, Joel muses, all nerves and jitters like a baby calf attempting to walk for the first time. So fucking cute, he thinks to himself. You were dressed for the brutality of the Austin summer, with barely there cut-off shorts and a tiny white baby tee, the sweat forming on your skin wetting the thin fabric, and if Joel looked hard enough, he swears he saw the outline of your nip-"

"Baby," the client rings out, forcing Joel to look away in embarrassment, a blush forming on his neck all the way up to his face. "You remember Joel Miller, the contractor we ran into in the mall?"

"Yeah. I remember. Hi, Mr. Miller."

You cringed as you approached, your head downcast as you awkwardly reached your overbearing mother. "Tommy, come and meet my daughter, we call her Sugar, because she's so sweet! She's back home from UT Dallas, she's working her way up to her master's in IT! We're all so proud of-"

"Mom," you whine, glaring at the ground as you shift around uncomfortably. "I don't think they care about what I'm doing at school."

"Don't be silly, Sugar," the mom chided with a dismissive wave. "These fine gentlemen surely appreciate a smart, capable woman, right, Joel? Tommy?"

Joel, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected introduction, nodded with a friendly smile. "Absolutely, ma'am. Education is valuable, and we're glad to have such esteemed company. It's hard enough to go through earning your bachelor's, I'm sure it's hell trying to navigate trying to get your masters!" Joel clears his throat as he gives her a nervous smile. "You look great, by the way. You look well rested, I reckon this break is doing you some good."

Tommy, giving Joel an amused look, chimed in. "Smart is the new sexy, Sugar. Nothing to be shy about. I agree," Tommy winks at his brother as his smile widens at Joel's nervous shuffling. "Joel sure likes them smart and capable, alright."

You blushed, still uncomfortable with the attention. "Well, uh, nice to meet you, Tommy, and it's nice to see you again, Joel," You mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Pleasure to see you again too, Sugar," Joel replies.

Tommy chokes on nothing as he witnesses his brother taking the girl's hand in his, placing a soft kiss on it.

"Oh, brother of mine," he whispered to himself, shaking his head at seeing how smitten his brother was for you. "For fucks sake, what the hell am I going to do with you?"

Six Months and One Week ago.

"Sugar? Is that you?"

You turn towards the deep voice, smiling at the body that it's coming from. "Mr. Miller, it's nice to see you again. Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"I heard from your mother that you got that Masters, I'm proud of you, girlie."

"Oh," you stammer, "It was nothing-"

"Don't do that," Joel says with a frown, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Do what?" you ask, matching his frown as he steps towards you. You can't help but gasp at his sudden boldness. You keep your hands glued to your sides, willing yourself to not reach out to his chest. You forgot just how much he affected you, even if it's been a decade since you've seen him last. He's older, sure, with strands of grey peppered throughout his curly hair... but he's different too, the remnants of his boyish charm morphing into something harder, more rugged, more broad. You tremble under his scrutiny. You force yourself to meet his heavy gaze. "Do what?" you repeat out louder, your voice getting caught in your throat as you push an errant strand of hair away from your face.

"You shouldn't downplay yourself like that. Earning something like your Master's is a big deal, don't sell yourself short like that, okay?"

You grant him a small smile. "Okay."

Joel, satisfied with your answer, nods. "Want to grab a cup of coffee with me?"

Six Months Ago.

"Are you sure she's good? Joel! Are you fucking listening?" Tess snaps, her fingers snapping for emphasis as Joel jolts in surprise. "It says here that she's been working at the Geek Squad for the last eight years; that's hardly enough experience to run an entire department—"

"She has her masters in Management Information Systems from UT Dallas, and the person who vouched for her-"

"Yeah, her mother? If she's as old as you, I highly doubt she can grasp what we need... what are we doing Joel? Are we just letting little old rich ladies headhunt for us now? I don't need no privileged priss in some ball gown running IT, we're a multi-million dollar company-"

"... who didn't even have a decent IT department in the first place, and now that Gloria is retiring, shit, Tess-" Joel runs his hands through his hair as he groans in frustration. "... she's better than everyone else we've interviewed, hell- at least we know that she's a lifer, being that she's worked for minimum wage at Best Buy for almost a decade! We have a chance to bring someone in to help out with the draftsmen, shit, she's even proficient in Revit! Tess, level with me: with her knowing that 3D modeling shit - we need her! More than she needs us!"

"So it's not that you want to fuck her, then?" Tess rolls her eyes as she throws your resume on his desk. "Yeah, Tommy mentioned your little high school crush on her, it's funny, you conveniently forgot to mention that-"

"Tess, don't."

"So if we decide to hire her, I won't catch you fucking her in your office? Her office? The conference room, the supply closet..." She glares at him, tipping her head back as she pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"For fucks sake Tess, are we hiring her or not?"

Tess rises from her seat, running her hands down her slacks to straighten them, and gives Joel one last glance. With a half-smile, she shakes her head as she heads toward the door. "I'll email her an offer. If she takes it, she takes it... But, I will be starting her off at our base pay."

Joel nods, suppressing the urge to beam as much as he'd like. "That's fine."

"Oh? And Joel?" She pivots back to Joel, hand on the doorknob. "I didn't hear a no. If I catch you guys in my office, I will fucking castrate you, you hear?"

Two weeks ago.

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: About that list...

11:30 am (30 min ago)

Sugar,

Thanks for saving my ass last night. The meeting with The H Hotel went off with a hitch and Tess was none the wiser for my little mishap... no harm, no foul, right? Right.

About earlier today, when you said "Let's do this", was that a "Yes, maybe?" or a "Yes, definitely?" because I would very much like to do this, with you, at your pace, of course. I don't want to pressure you or anything. I'm just fucking excited, you know? You have no idea how much I've wanted to talk to you back then... I let shit get into my head, you know? Fuck. I'm rambling.

Thank you for giving me a chance, Sugar. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it worth your while.

Joel

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: RE: About that list...

11:45 am (0 min ago)

Yes, definitely. Yes to all of it.

When do you want to start?

One week ago.

[Hey Sugar, are you busy?]

Not at the moment, I'm about to clock out for lunch, what's up? Did you click on a phishing link again?

[Sugar, have a little faith! Say, I'm about to head out to lunch too, meet me in the parking lot in 5?]

That's rather forward and presumptuous of you, Mr. Miller. What if I had already brought lunch from home? What if I was looking forward to eating my adult lunchable?

[What the hell is an adult lunchable? It sounds terrible! What if I take you to that little Sushi joint down the road? Would that be enough to convince you to come out with me? I'll let you snack on the lunchable on the way there.]

Hey! Don't knock my charcuterie! Also, Doesn't that "little sushi joint" have a two-month waiting list? It's impossible to get in! I thought that it was only open for dinner?

[Baby, don't you know that we built that restaurant? Masayoshi is a good friend of mine, and he owes me a favor. All it takes is one call, what do you say? Nothing's impossible for my Sugar.]

Nothing's impossible for my Sugar. Sugar. My Sugar. You read Joel's message over and over again, your stomach growling as you contemplate the current state of your life. If someone had told you six months ago that you would manage to not only crawl your way out of the depths of Geek Squad hell, snag a decent job, and catch the eye of your hot-as-fuck boss, you would have laughed in their face at how ridiculous that sounded. It is ridiculous - how one little mistake led to having everything you could have possibly wanted out of your minuscule life, hot man included. So what if you haven't had a serious relationship since college? It's not like you were with your ex long enough for you to go all the way, and even then, you weren't remotely even into him, he was too skinny and nerdy and didn't scream 'man' at all. His nervous laughter and awkward shaking did nothing for you. Joel, on the other hand- now that was a man. A man you wouldn't mind climbing like a tree, all thick and firm and sturdy...

[Sugar? You still there? Are we doing this or not?]

You snap out of your daydreaming, your decision already being made. Your hands shake as you type out your response, your fingers striking the keys with a finality that you never would have thought you would ever have the courage for. Well, you think to yourself as you press enter. Here goes nothing...

I'll be right there. See you soon.

[That's my good girl.]

"Hey, Sugar," Joel greeted with a playful grin from the driver's seat of his F-150, his arm casually resting on the open window. His eyes lingered on you as if savoring the moment. "Hop in, Masayoshi is heading over to the restaurant now."

You rolled your eyes with a teasing smirk as you approached the passenger side, clamoring into the cab with a bit of awkward grace. "Just like that? A single call to your chef friend, and he drops everything to cater to your every whim? Color me impressed, Mr. Miller."

Joel chuckled. "Well, what can I say? I am sort of a big deal." He reached for your hand across the center console, fingers intertwining, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Is this okay, Sugar?" He lifted your hand to his lips, planting a gentle kiss. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a delightful flutter in your stomach. Turning your head away, you mumbled, "It's very okay, Mr. Miller."

"Now, what did I tell you?" Joel teased, a glint in his eyes. "It's Joel, none of this Mr. Miller nonsense. Save that for when we're crossing off items on my list, alright?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks as Joel's easy charm and forwardness caught you off guard. "You're going to be the death of me, Joel," you quipped, half-jokingly, half-serious, unsure how to navigate the sudden closeness. The air in the truck seemed to hum with a subtle tension, and you wondered if Joel could sense the rapid beating of your heart.

Joel's gaze held a playful sparkle, and he grinned. "Well, Sugar, I hope it's a good way to go." He revved the engine, and the truck rumbled to life as he pulled out onto the road.

"So, Sugar, tell me something interesting about yourself," his fingers tapping the steering wheel to an imaginary beat.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, Joel, I like to teach myself new things, I have a British shorthair named Sir Bubbles, you know, because I was obsessed with Bridgerton, And, by the way, it's Mr. Miller only when executing things on your list, right?" you teased, recalling his earlier remark.

Joel shot you a sly grin. "Sharp memory, Sugar. You're catching on quickly."

As you neared the sushi restaurant, the conversation seamlessly transitioned to lighter topics. Joel shared stories about his work, and how it felt working with Tommy and Tess, and you found yourself drawn into his earnestness and honesty. The playful banter continued as Joel made his way towards the edge of town, your cheeks hurting from how easy it was to smile in his company.

Parking the truck, Joel turned to you with a playful glint in his eye. "Ready for some sushi and more of my irresistibly charming company, Sugar?"

You roll your eyes, feigning reluctance. "Oh, the charm? I don't know if I can handle it, Mr. Miller."

He grins, opening your door with a flourish. "Well, brace yourself, because it's coming."

As you step out, Joel pauses, reaching behind your seat. "Wait a sec," he says, unveiling what looks like the botanical equivalent of a small garden. "A little something to brighten up your day."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is this part of the list?"

Joel chuckles. "Maybe."

You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful."

"The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration."

"and the carnations?"

"For fascination and enchantment."

"Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?"

He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

You playfully roll your eyes, holding the bouquet to your chest. "You're quite the charmer, Mr. Miller."

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, taking your hand as you both head towards the sushi restaurant. "After you, baby girl."

After lunch, you and Joel emerge to find the heavens have opened up, rain pouring down in sheets. Joel stops you in your tracks, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of sincerity and mischief.

With a twinkle in his eye, he asks, "Mind if I tick off the first thing on my list?"

You smile, stepping closer to Joel as he tucks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the both of you soaked to the bone.

"Yes please, Mr. Miller."

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

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