#honestly still working on sitting positions

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Learning Curves 2 (M)

★ PAIRING: 00line+Mark x Reader ☆ WORD COUNT: 30k ★ GENRE(S): Smut, PWP, just vibes frfr ☆ SUMMARY: After spending Winter break with Jisung's family, you and Mark reignite a friendship that evolves into FWB. However, when the 00line discovers that you've been skipping out on time with them to be with Mark, they aren’t too pleased. ★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex. creampie, riding, dry humping, cunnilingus, bdsm, leash, use of spreader bar, iceplay, orgasm denial, fingering, voyeurism, shower sex, blowjob, lip biting which causes minor injury, switch Haechan, guided masturbation, choking, slapping, rough/forceful sex, thigh riding, slight coercion, reader gets train ran on her, free use?, MDNI ☆★ NOTES: I’m trying something new where I link the sex position im talking about because i suck at describing them so i usually try to stay away from anything other than missionary and doggy but thats lame and i want to write interesting sex scenes so if your confused on what the hell I'm talking about during a scene just click the link for the photo lmaoooo. LCpt.1 Here ao3 Link (like here before you leave TT)

You pull the blanket tighter around you, trying to warm up. Your space heater is humming in the background hard at work, but it's still not enough to fully heat up the apartment. You've been complaining about the heating system for weeks, and now it seems to have finally broken down.

You scroll through your social media feed and see videos of your friends laughing with their families, enjoying the holiday season together. Honestly, it makes you smile. You're genuinely happy for them, even if it stirs a little longing in your heart. You had opted out of going home for the holidays, you didn’t have the best relationship with your family so you were more than content with staying home. You double-tap on each post when a notification pops up. It's Jisung, he was going home today and had been begging you to come over to help him pack.

You [2:31 pm] Ji for the last time its too cold to go anywhere I finally got warm and Im not getting up again

Ji [2:32 pm] come on!!!! I dont ask you for anything plus how many favors do you owe me??? >:(

With a sigh of frustration, you toss off the blankets. The cold air instantly bites at your skin. It was a lot chillier in your apartment than you realized.

You shiver as you layer up and put on your good boots, the thought of Jisung's warmer apartment lifting your spirits for the time being.

Outside, you have to be careful with your footing. You cautiously make your way to your car and drive to his dorm. When you arrive, you knock and as soon as he opens the door, you reach out and pinch his arm.

“Oww, oww, oww!” He yelps, rubbing at the spot you’d pinched.

“Do you know how cold it is out there?!” you exclaim pushing past him into the room.

You surveyed his dorm room, your gaze taking in the chaotic scene before you. There were mountains of discarded clothes scattered across the floor, seemingly the result of Jisungs carelessness as he rushed to pack. Carefully making your way through the haphazard landscape, you navigate your way toward his bed.

Jisung ignores your complaints, bustling around the room and shoving a few last-minute items into his suitcase. “Listen, I’m sorry! Can you just come sit on this for a sec?” he whines.

You huff but get up anyway. You plop down on his suitcase successfully compressing it while Jisung zips it closed. He fell back onto the floor with a satisfied sigh. You spend the next few minutes helping him straighten up before finally collapsing onto his warm bed. "So," you asked, settling back against the pillows, "is your family doing anything special for the holidays?"

“Yeah, my grandma rented a cabin for the family get-together,” he says, and suddenly looks at you in realization. “Wait, why are you still here? You’re not going home for the holidays?” He asks eyes wide in disbelief.

You shrug, the truth spilling out before you can stop it. “Nah, I don’t really get along with my parents.”

Jisung's expression shifts to concern. “Come home with me! You can’t stay by yourself over the holidays. It would be so much fun!”

You hesitate, considering his offer. You’ve always had a good relationship with Jisung’s family. They’ve welcomed you before, and his mom cooks like a dream. It feels tempting, but you worry about intruding.

“Are you sure it’s not too last minute?” you ask, biting your lip.

Jisung shakes his head vigorously, a determined look on his face. “My mom would kill me if she found out I let you spend the holidays alone. She always says her door is open for you, and I know she’d be so happy to see you. Plus, it’d make things way more fun!”

Maybe your winter break wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

"You have reached the mailbox of…"

Ever since winter break, that’s all Haechan had been hearing. You’d been taking hours to respond to his texts, ignoring his and everyone's calls, and overall being pretty flaky. Whenever they pressed you an explanation, you just responded with half-hearted excuses.

I’m busy.

Sorry, can’t talk right now.

I’ll call you back later.

Finally after several failed attempts he managed to get you to come over under the pretext of a movie night with the guys. You were bundled up together under a heavy blanket, Haechan on one side and Jaemin on the other. The warmth of their bodies keeps away the night's chill. Haechan was working his hand up your thigh when your phone buzzed, casting a soft glow across your face. The smile that spread on your lips made his stomach twist with jealousy. You quickly typed something back and locked your phone before he could catch a glimpse of what had made you light up.

You let out a fake yawn, stretching your arms above your head. “Sorry, guys, I think I’ll have to call it a night.”

Before he could protest, you were already gathering your things. “You don’t want to stay for a little while longer. We’ve only got an hour left of the movie,” Jeno called from his spot on the couch, looking slightly disappointed.

“Sorry pup, I can’t,” you said, walking over to him and stealing a quick peck on his lips.

As you turned to leave, Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. When the door closes behind you he turns to his roommates. “She’s replacing us, isn’t she?” Haechan muttered.

“Dude, relax. It’s late she’s probably just tired,” Jeno replied, trying to be the logic that Haechan seemed to lack.

“Well, she could have slept over here! Nothing was stopping her before!” Haechan shot back.

“Would you two shut up? I’m trying to watch the movie!” Renjun snapped, glancing at them with irritation.

“And I’m trying to fuck, so I guess we’re both out of luck!” Haechan grumbled, throwing his head back against the couch.

Jaemin, who had been quietly huddled under the blanket, suddenly yanked it away from Haechan, seemingly unwilling to share any longer now that you were gone. “Jeno’s right, she’s probably just tired. Besides, how could she replace us?”

Haechan wanted to believe Jeno, to cling to the hope that you were telling the truth and were just too busy. But as the minutes passed and the movie flickered on, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut that something else was going on.

—

You were sitting at your vanity, doing your makeup when your phone buzzed with a notification. A smile crept onto your face as you read the message. Once you slipped on your heels by the door, you left your apartment and headed to join your friends waiting in the car.

“Where is he?” Mia asked curiously.

“He’s going to meet me there,” you replied, feeling your heart flutter in excitement at the thought of seeing him.

“I can’t believe you two are talking again!” Yuna cooed, her eyes wide with playful disbelief.

The car was filled with the sound of laughter and gossip as you caught up with your friends, sharing stories about what happened over winter break. You can't help but sing along to the music that plays in the car as your friends chatted excitedly about the night ahead. You belted out the lyrics to your favorite song, your voice a little off-key but you don’t care, you were tipsy and in a great mood. You felt a twinge of guilt for forcing the uber driver to listen to your terrible singing and the all-too-detailed gossip.

Once you arrive at the party, the bass of the music has your blood rushing with excitement. The living room was packed with people on the makeshift dance floor. You and the girls quickly made your way to the kitchen, where the clinking of glass and shouts of joy sound off into the night. You grabbed a couple of drinks and toasted to a night of fun.

It wasn’t long before your friends began to scatter, each one disappeared into the sea of bodies, eyes sparkling with trouble as they searched for their one-night stands. You didn’t mind, you hadn’t come to the party for them. Your heart was set on finding the one person you had been eagerly waiting to see all night. With a determined smile, you navigated through the crowded living room.

“Mark!” you called, spotting him talking with a few friends. As soon as he heard your voice, he looked up and broke into a smile. He quickly made his way over and engulfed you in a warm hug.

“You look so pretty, baby,” he said, eyes roaming over the dress you had picked out for the night.

You turn shy under his compliment. “Thank you,” you murmured, feeling a timid smile tugging at your lips.

Mark turned to his friends and excused himself, allowing you to drag him away. The house was dimly lit but you could still see how excruciatingly handsome he was under the flashing lights. You navigated through the mass of people until you reached the dance floor. His hands found your waist. He pulled you against him, your back pressed firmly against his chest before swaying your hips in time with the music.

His breath fanned against your neck as he leaned in. “Pretty girl…” he murmured, trailing hot kisses down your neck. “Want me to take you home?”

You catch his gaze as you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with desire and you can feel yourself growing wet already. You turned in his embrace until you were facing him, pressing your lips against his as you nodded eagerly. He grabbed your hand, leading you through the crowd, a wicked smile dancing on your face as you followed him.

Once outside, he pushed you up against his car, his lips claiming yours again. You hear the car beep as he fumbles with his keys to unlock it. Your hands tangled in his hair as he explored your body, fingers gliding up your thigh and pushing your dress dangerously high. You needed him now, you couldn’t wait. Glancing around to ensure the coast was clear, you pulled him into the backseat of the car, the tinted windows providing the perfect level of privacy.

Unbeknownst to you, another car had been watching you since they pulled up nearby. Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, and Jaemin were inside, their eyes locked onto the scene unfolding before them.

Renjun had given everyone a pep talk on the drive here about finding someone to hook up with to distract from thoughts of you. Renjun had put the car in park when he saw you stumbling across the street.

“Is that Jisung’s cousin?” Renjun asked, squinting at the sight before him.

“Where?” Haechan perked up, looking up from his phone.

“So that's where she’s been?” Jaemin questioned.

“No way, maybe they’re just friends,” Jeno said, but he quickly corrected himself. “Or not,” he muttered, watching as Mark pushed you against the car and kissed you passionately.

A humorless laugh escaped Haechan’s lips. “I fucking told you guys.” He says, eyes following the way your fingers tangle in Mark's hair.

They had intended to get out of the car, but now they found themselves watching in stunned silence as the vehicle rocked and the windows fogged up. They weren’t quite sure how long they sat there until you finally slid out of the backseat, pulling your dress down haphazardly. a stupid grin plastered itself on your face as you climbed into the passenger seat.

Jaemin knew that look. You were fucked out and it was driving him up a wall that he wasn’t the one who did it.

“Don’t let this discourage you,” Renjun chimed in, forcing the most upbeat tone he could manage. “We can still have fun, right guys?” But one glance around the car told him it wasn't the right moment for another pep talk.

They had finally realized why you had been acting strange and no one was in the mood to party.

Earlier, inside the car…

Mark was lost in a haze of desire, pushing your dress up past your hips. His warm hands setting your skin ablaze against the cool night air. You straddled his waist and grind against him, the rough fabric of his jeans provided a delicious friction that left you shuddering. His lips left bruises along your collarbone, and you tugged at his hair, bringing him closer for another heated kiss. His lips were so soft, like plush clouds you could easily get lost in—they were absolutely perfect. You kissed him feverishly, your hands roaming over the skin beneath his shirt. Exploring the contours of his strong chest, your fingers trailed downward until they hovered at his waistband. You nipped at his bottom lip playfully before pulling away.

“Are you going to let me have it?” you asked sweetly, blinking up at him with pleading eyes.

“You deserve it, baby. Take it,” he breathed, his voice filled with urgency.

With a quick motion, you unzipped his pants and positioned yourself over him, tracing his tip through your folds, soaking him in your juices. Every brush against you sent shivers up your spine.

“That’s it, baby, just like that. It’s yours, go ahead,” he encouraged, his voice a low whisper.

You sank down onto him with a moan, feeling him fill you completely. He was deep and the sensation was everything you’d craved. You lost yourself in the rhythm, pulling him to kiss you again as you rode him. His hands grip your hips harshly as you take him. His breaths were choppy and his eyes fluttered, unable to stay open from the pleasure. You circle your hips fluidly, it was a trick that you knew drove haechan crazy, you wonder if it would work on mark?

HIs hips thrust up sharply and he groaned. He spread his thighs a little wider and tilted his head back. “Fuck,” he groaned, his breath hitching. “You feel so good.”

You were just getting started, you were going to drive him crazy. You slam your hips down hard, a sharp contrast of the precise movements a moment ago. You bounce on his cock roughly, grinding down hard when his hips meet yours. You leaned back on his knees for leverage and continued to ride him. His hands try to hold your hips still. He needed a moment, he didn't want to cum yet.

“Let go, baby, I got you,” you whispered, determined to push him to the brink.

He shook his head, desperation lacing his voice. “Not yet, I can’t.”

The next moment he's pulling you off of him. He was strong and despite your best efforts you couldn't stop him from switching your positions. He had pinned you down on your back, legs over his waist and lips pressed against yours. He needed a moment to catch his breath and he could tell from the look in your eyes you weren't going to give him one unless he took control.

“Be a good girl and do what I say,” he warned.

You nodded obediently. You would do whatever he wanted to get him back inside of you, you didn't care. “Keep those legs open,” he instructed, then finally pushed inside you.

You bite back a loud moan as he thrusts into you. His face was buried in your neck as he drove himself into you deeper and deeper. Your head was hitting the car door with each thrust but you were too far gone to care. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist and pulled him into you with each thrust. You were close and with a few more sharp thrusts you were spilling all over him and dripping down the leather seats of his car.

“Look at you, making such a mess,” Mark moaned, his grip tightening on your cheeks as he opened your mouth. “Dirty fucking girl,” he whispered before spitting into your mouth. His pointer and middle finger rest against your tongue as he makes sure you swallow it before hooking his fingers into your mouth. He fucks you like that, eyes glazed over as he watches you suck against his fingers

His hips grow erratic, the sight of you, saliva dripping down your face and pussy spasming around his cock in overstimulation pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside of you and watched the cum drip as he pulled out.

When you eventually slipped out of the car, a stupid smile plastered itself across your face. Clenching your legs tight, you tried to hold him inside as you settled into the passenger seat. Little did you know, four pairs of eyes were still watching from the distant shadows.

—

"So, where did you and Mark run off to last night?" Yuna asks, flanked by your other friends, Mia, Chenle, and Yang Yang, as you make your way to the library.

“A true lady never kisses and tells,” you respond, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Except you’re not a lady, you’re a whore,” Mia elbows you playfully. “Now spill! What’s going on with you and Mark? Last I checked, you ghosted him.”

“You guys are so nosy,” you roll your eyes.

“Stop acting like it’s not killing you to keep this a secret,” Chenle urges.

You huff, feigning annoyance. “Fine! Since you guys won’t stop hounding me…”

A chorus of cheers and laughter erupts from the group, and you can’t help but smile shyly.

“We started talking again over winter break, during Jisung’s family vacation.”

“Wait, he was there?” Chenle asks, surprised.

“Duh, idiot. It’s called a family vacation for a reason,” Yang Yang retorts, shoving Chenle lightly.

As the group grows increasingly chaotic, you near the library. “Alright, guys, I’ll tell you everything later, but for now, shoo! I’m meeting Mark at the library.”

A chorus of teasing “ooohs” rings out as you wave them away like pesky flies.

When you arrived with Jisung to spend the holidays with his family, you were completely surprised to see Mark roll in later that day. You hadn’t expected Mark to be there. You should have anticipated it, given that they’re cousins, but it totally slipped your mind. At first, it was awkward given the fact that you had ghosted him for seemingly no reason, and now here you were at his family vacation trying to make small talk.

You eventually hashed things out and grew closer. You spent the break catching up with Mark while hanging out with Jisung and his family. After the break, you had started hanging out alone more frequently. It felt like a spark reignited between you two.The tension in your hangouts grew, conversations became flirtatious, and lingering gazes turned heated, until one of those moments finally snapped. You and Mark tangled together, exploring each other desperately while he fucked you six ways to sunday. You had agreed to keep things casual, Mark had just gotten out of a relationship a few months ago and wasn’t ready to dive back in.

That’s what led you to your current situation.

It’s not that you wanted to flake on the guys; you just happened to be really into Mark right now. You used to be so down bad for him, and now that you finally had him in your clutches, you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

You're sitting at a table in the back of the library as you flip through the pages of your textbook. You burst into a fit of giggles at something Mark says. He was seated next to you, his own reading material disgarded as he leaned over your shoulder trying to help you study. The way he leans in, his warm breath grazing your ear as he explains the lesson, sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Meanwhile, Haechan, sitting with Renjun at a nearby table, narrows his eyes as he spots you and Mark at the back of the library. “She can’t be serious,” Haechan mutters, incredulous.

Mark is unnecessarily close, his finger tracing a line in your textbook. You catch his eye and share a playful glance, and it makes your heart race. Haechan groans in annoyance at your obvious flirting. The way you're biting your lip and laughing at everything Mark says was aggravating. There's no way Mark was that funny!

“Shhh! Ms. Song already said if she has to kick us out again, we’re banned from the library,” Renjun interjects quietly, shooting Haechan a sharp look.

“Is she seriously ditching us for him? What’s so special about him, anyway?” Haechan grumbles, crossing his arms. Here he was, supposed to be studying, having begged Renjun to tutor him, only to be distracted by you.

“After what we saw last night, he’s probably some kind of sex god. I mean, did you see the look on her face when they got out of the car?!” Renjun says sarcastically. A smirk creeped onto his face, knowing the image he just painted is pushing all of Haechan’s buttons.

“I could do that! That should have been me!” Haechan waves his hands in mock frustration, his voice rising a little too high.

“Shhh!” Renjun hisses again, glancing around nervously to see if anyone is listening.

“Do you even care?” Haechan whispers furiously, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Renjun lets out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, I care, but unlike you, I’m mature enough to let it go! Now please,” he says, placing a finger over his lips in a quieting gesture.

Haechan grumbles under his breath but sinks back into his chair, arms crossed stubbornly. However, his eyes remain glued to you and Mark. He’s acutely aware that the lines etched across his forehead are deepening, and he’s sure he’ll regret it later when wrinkles form, but right now, he can’t tear himself away from the sight of Mark’s hand dipping below the table slyly.

—

You stood on the porch, knocking on the door a little louder than necessary. The cold weather seeped into your bones, and you hoped someone would be home to let you in. You had called earlier, but no one had answered. Mark was sick, and your other friends were all busy with work or studies. Bored out of your mind, you were looking for some fun.

You knew they were likely angry with you, after all, you'd been ignoring them for most of the week. Despite that, you felt confident they'd relent and let you in once they got a look at what you had on. Under your coat you made sure to dress in the shortest silk shorts and a top that was all cleavage and no coverage. Although you were practically freezing outside, you figured it was worth it for the extra brownie points it might earn you.

As you knocked again, a messy-haired Jeno opened the door. His headphones hung from his neck, and a gaming controller was in his hand. He looked surprised to see you, and for a moment, he simply stared. You smiled sweetly and ushered yourself inside as he stood frozen, his eyes fixed on your outfit.

Once you were warm and out of the cold, you looked around the quiet house for everyone else. "Where is everyone?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jeno shrugged, putting his controller down on the counter. "I don't know, they've been gone for a while." He raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to your cleavage again. "Who were you coming to see?"

You laughed and tilted your head, moving closer to him. "No one in particular. I was just bored and missed you guys."

"Missed us, but can't pick up the phone?" he joked, moving to sit on the couch.

You smiled and got comfortable on his lap,your legs caging him in as you straddled his waist. "Are you mad?" you asked him, your eyes meeting his.

Jeno shook his head softly, his gaze locked on your lips. "Could never be mad at you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt your face heat up. Suddenly, you couldn't meet his gaze anymore.

Jeno leaned in, his voice teasing. "Why are you acting all shy, little bird?"

You bury your face in his neck. "You're making me nervous."

Jeno's hands moved to rest on the tops of your thighs, and he massaged the skin there. "Now you see how I feel. Come on, look at me."

You finally brought your gaze back to his, and Jeno's eyes locked onto yours. His expression was soft and adoring, and you felt a flutter in your chest. "We have some time before they get back," he said. "Let me have you to myself, hmm?"

You nod and his lips cover yours in a needy kiss, your tongues and teeth in a passionate battle. You hold on to his face, returning the kiss with just as much fever. You can feel his sharp jaw flex under your fingertips as his mouth opens wider and a low moan escapes him. His hands slide lower, resting on your ass before he sits up and effortlessly lifts you. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

He drops you gently on the mattress, and you look up at him as he pulls his shirt off his body. The way he gazes down at you reveals the quiet longing in his eyes. He crawls onto the bed, looming over you with a teasing smile that makes your pulse quicken with excitement.

“Are you gonna be a big girl and take your clothes off, or do you need my help?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss. You feel playful as you brush your lips against his teasingly. “I think I can manage, but then again…” You give him a smirk. “If you’re offering your help, who am I to refuse?”

He closes the distance once more, smiling into the kiss as his hands deftly strip you of your clothes. Once he's got you naked he kicks off his jeans, the sound of fabric hitting the floor echoing in the quiet room. You reach for the waistband of his briefs, eager to take the next step, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them against the pillow.

“Let me take my time,” he warns.

He gropes your breasts, his hands warm as he teases your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body. With a swift motion, he kicks your legs open, sliding a knee between them, and your hips automatically grind down against it, seeking the friction you desperately crave. Your body is restless and all you want is to put your hands on him, to feel every inch of his skin against yours.

In your fight to keep your hands still, they slip under the pillow, where your fingers graze something cool and leather. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.

“A leash?” you ask, your voice laced with surprise.

Jeno’s head pops up, his face turning beet red as he processes the leather leash and collar in your hands. He glances between the items and your face, his mouth open, fumbling with whatever sentence he's trying to form.

“Uh…I—” He stumbles over his words, clearly flustered, and you can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Didn’t know you were this freaky,” you tease, arching an eyebrow as you lean in closer. “You like to leash your partners? Kinky.”

He looks down shyly, biting his lip in embarrassment. “No, that’s not it…”

An inquisitive “Hmm,” escapes your lips before the realization dawns on you. “No way! Our puppy likes to be leashed?” you say excitedly. “That’s so hot!”

In an instant, he snatches the items out of your hands, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re just teasing, it’s not funny,” he retorts, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious,” you insist, grabbing his face to force him to meet your gaze. “I want to try.”

The look he gives you is one of pure puppy-dog innocence, those large, expressive eyes reflecting the desire that's swirling in his stomach. You can’t contain your excitement at the thought of slipping the collar around his neck. With careful hands, you tighten the collar and attach the leash, you smile at the dominance you now wield.

Giving an experimental tug, you pull him closer until he’s a breath away, his warm breath fanning across your skin. It’s like a light switch flips, suddenly he's looking down at you, gaze dark like a predator despite being the one leashed.

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back as you urge his body closer. Jeno buries his face back into your chest, grinding against you, and you can feel the heat radiating from both of your bodies. You desperately cling to each other, hips moving with need, and you realize just how wet you are when the front of his briefs quickly become soaked by your arousal. Heaving breaths fill the room, mingling with your desperate moans that you can no longer hide. Each drag of his hips sends red hot pleasure through you, but you’re growing tired of his teasing. He knows what you want, all you can think about is feeling him inside you, but he seems determined to rile you up. You might be the one holding the leash, but somehow it feels like he’s still the one in control.

Frustrated, you tighten your grip, tugging him away from your chest. His forehead rests against yours giving you his full attention. Your hand trails down his body, skimming over his toned abs until you reach the waistband of his briefs. This time, he allows you to pull them down, and his eyes widen, round and innocent, as you grip him in your hand.

A low moan escapes him, reverberating through his body as he instinctively thrusts into your grasp. His eyes screw shut, and his head falls against your shoulder in sheer ecstasy. “That’s my good boy,” you whisper, a wicked smile curling your lips as pleasure overtakes him. His soft whimper in response makes you feel powerful.

But it's fleeting. He sits back, his leash glides between your fingertips as he pulls himself away from your grasp. He was still teasing and you were growing sick of it.

“Come on puppy, be good,” you coax. “I need you.”

A playful smile creeps across his lips. “You’ve got me,” he assures, finally relenting to the irresistible pull of your legs urging him inside of you.

In the next moment, he slips between your legs and slides into you. You’re so ready for him, slick and inviting, and you moan his name like a prayer. He has missed you—every delicious inch of you. He’s right where he needs to be.

Your grip on the leash tightens as he begins to fuck you with a steady rhythm. His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you against him with each thrust, making you feel every inch of him. When you slide up the bed, he yanks you back down and pins you in place to make you take it.

Suddenly, he manhandles you onto your side with ease, throwing one of your legs over his hip. His strokes turn deep and slow, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. You can’t help but squeeze him just right in this position, and he revels in it, those dark eyes locked onto yours with intensity.

His hands roam freely, groping and kneading your ass until he lands a harsh slap against the skin there, causing you to jolt in surprise. You glare at him playfully and in retaliation, you yank the leash roughly, asserting control. When his gaze meets yours, fire ignites behind those enticing eyes, and a wicked smirk dances across his lips.

He flips you over, twisting your body until you are on your hands and knees. He's on one knee behind you and the other is bent to keep your leg propped open. He drags his heavy cock through your wet folds, ready to take what’s his. He’s deep, you can barely catch your breath, each strong thrust knocking the air from your lungs. One of your legs is suspended over his and you're unable to do much but submit to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel your arms growing weak from holding yourself up, threatening to cave under the bliss. When Jeno notices, he deliberately drops his leg, and you collapse into a classic doggy style. Instantly, he pushes your head into the sheets, grinding into you before his hips pick up their relentless pace.

You moan loud and unashamed, surrendering completely to him as he continues to wreck you, his every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. When you look back over your shoulder, your breath hitches at the sight.

Jeno's chest heaves up and down, sweat glistening and trickling down to his happy trail. His hair, once lightly tousled, now spikes up in every direction, a testament to the way you'd run your fingers through it. The collar sits snug around his neck—a beautiful accessory that seems to belong there. The chain of the leash thrashes wildly against his chest with each powerful thrust, creating a rhythm that echoes through the room. His eyes are blown wide with lust, lips swollen from kisses shared, and he looks utterly delectable. In that moment, you can’t believe how you ever forgot just how much fun you had with him, or how stunning he was, and how he made you feel like the center of his universe.

What was a mark, anyway?

All you can think of is Jeno—crave him, worship him—as he fucks you into the sheets, your body begging for more. Each roll of his hips sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and you moan his name over and over in a chant of pure ecstasy.

You wrap your fist around his chain, tugging him down over your shoulder until your lips are just inches apart, and you kiss him as you cum. You don’t loosen your grip—you need him to look you in the eyes. You want to see every ounce of him when he fills you with his cum.

His brows furrow, and his mouth hangs open, breath coming in heavy gasps as he continues to pound into you. His eyelids flutter and he moans. “Harder,” he gasps out and you can’t help but clench around him. You tighten your hold on the leash, effectively choking him just as he reaches his peak.

He grunts loudly, head dropping between your shoulder blades as he spills into you. The sensation pushes you over the edge once more, and the two of you ride out your high together, clinging to each other as you breathe heavily. When he finally catches his breath, he spreads your ass cheeks, pulling out slowly, watching as he drips from your messy cunt.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs to himself.

As he rolls off you, he takes a moment to regain his composure, and when he does, he goes to grab a towel, gently wiping you down. The soft cloth feels soothing against your skin, and then he dresses you in one of his shirts—a perfect fit, soft, and smelling of him. You help him take off his collar, kissing and massaging the skin of his neck.

Once you’re both settled, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping you in warmth. It was cold outside and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

You don’t remember dozing off, but the soft sounds of movement in the house awaken you later. the guys must have finally returned. You shake Jeno awake, and he stirs, blinking sleepily as he looks up at you.

“I'm leaving, babe. I had fun,” you say softly, laying a gentle kiss on Jeno's cheek. His eyes are still barely open, and he groans something incoherent that makes you giggle before you slip on your shorts and head out of his room still wearing one of his shirts that hangs loosely around you.

As you step into the living room, you catch sight of Renjun sprawled on the couch, intently watching a show he had been raving about. Jaemin is in the kitchen, visibly busy with something that smells heavenly. You stretch and yawn, drawing their attention.

Renjun glances at you with a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, look who came crawling back,” he jokes, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh hush,” you laugh, picking up a nearby pillow and tossing it at him as you pass.

You walk into the kitchen and greet Jaemin, who glances over his shoulder as you approach. “Hi, baby,” he says sweetly, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

You eyed him suspiciously. Of all the guys, Jaemin is the one you were still learning to read but you knew there was something sinister behind that sweet smile. You knew better than to let your guard down. Beneath his seemingly sweet demeanor, he was likely still mad at you for ignoring him. He was the type to smile and say everything was fine while he was plotting his revenge.

“I didn’t poison it, dummy. Try it,” he insists, smiling as he lets you sample the dish. You hum appreciatively at the taste. “This is so good,” you moan, letting the flavors dance on your palate. Then you shoot him with your best pleading eyes. “Does this mean I’m off the hook?”

His smirk widens, and for just a moment, his mask slips, revealing a glimpse of the mischief underneath. “Not by a long shot. You've gotta get yours,” he threatens, playfully slapping your ass.

You shiver at the promise in his words but can’t help but smile at the teasing. Making your way back to Renjun, you wrap your arms around him in a warm hug.

“I missed you too, Junnie,” you coo, peppering his cheeks with kisses. He chuckles, enjoying the affectionate attention.

“Are you staying for dinner?” he asks.

You pretend to ponder, tapping your chin dramatically, before giving in. “Sure, I’ve been dying to see this show you keep telling me about anyway.” Truthfully, you missed spending time with them, and without an early class the next day, there was no reason not to.

Settling comfortably on the couch, you watch as Jaemin plates your food and Renjun glares when Jaemin casually tells him to fix his own plate. A few moments later, Jeno shuffles out of his room, clearly drawn by the scent of food. He plants a sweet kiss on your forehead before heading into the kitchen to fix a plate. You immerse yourself in Renjun’s show and it isn't until you've finished an entire episode that it hits you suddenly.

“Where’s Haechan?” you ask curiously.

“Probably working late on his project again,” Jaemin replies, shrugging. “His partner got sick last minute.”

“That sucks. I really wanted to see him,” you pout, disappointment washing over you.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be pissed when he finds out he missed you,” Renjun laughs.

After watching another episode and enduring about thirty minutes of Jeno and Renjun arguing over the show's plot twist, you finally decide to call it a night. You had contemplated waiting up for Haechan, but it was getting late and you were growing sleepy.

“Alright, guys, I’m heading out,” you say, waving goodbye. They were in the middle of cleaning up from dinner, chatting amiably amongst themselves before looking up at you.

“Drive safe, and get some sleep,” Jaemin calls out while the others wave goodbye.

As you get into your car and pull out of the parking lot, a familiar car rolls in just as you’re about to drive away. Your heart skips a beat when you lock eyes with Haechan in the driver seat. He’s looking at you in shock, not expecting to see you at the apartment. You looked just as shocked until you burst into laughter at the coincidence.

On the drive home all you can think about is how he is so going to kill you for leaving without saying goodbye. You can already envision the annoyance etched across his features when the others tell him about impromptu the hangout you had without him.

—

Mark was over at your apartment, his smile brighter than ever now that he had finally gotten better. You were glued to his side, huddled under a blanket against the winter night's chill. After making hot cocoa topped with marshmallows, you had settled in for a movie, completely engrossed in the plot.

Suddenly, your phone rang, causing you to jump slightly. Mark chuckled at your startled reaction before turning back to the screen, clearly unfazed. You glanced at the caller ID and noticed Jaemin's name flashing. Hesitating for just a moment, you hit the decline button and set the phone face down on the coffee table. A small pang of guilt washed over you, but you quickly brushed it aside, focusing instead on the warmth radiating from Mark beside you.

You turned back to the movie, snuggling deeper into Mark’s embrace. His warm hand rested high on your thigh, fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of your shorts. A smile spread across your face, and you felt your heart warm at his touch. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, prompting him to pull away slightly and meet your gaze with a smile. He then laid a gentle kiss on your forehead, trailing soft kisses down to your cheeks before finally capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, voice teasing.

“Of course! I’m glad you’re feeling better,” you replied, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Mark chuckled. “I knew you couldn’t live without me.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly. “Don’t let it get to your head. I was really just trying to keep myself entertained while you were out of commission.”

“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow, that teasing tone making your stomach do flips. “So, I’m just your favorite distraction?”

You laughed, leaning back a little. “I don’t know… this movie is pretty good. You’re not exactly doing a great job of distracting me.”

His laughter filled the room as he pulled you in for another kiss, making you forget all about the movie.

Suddenly, there was a rattling noise as your phone vibrated again on the table.

You ignored it as Mark pulled you into his lap, and the kiss began slowly — soft, and sweet. But as hands began to wander and your chests heaved, the kiss grew needier, more desperate. Finally, your phone stopped ringing, and you sighed in relief into his mouth.

The moment of joy was short-lived when your phone vibrated again. You groaned in frustration, and Mark pulled away, looking at you curiously.

“Don’t you want to answer that?”

You already knew who was blowing you up, and the last thing you wanted was to break the moment with a call from Jaemin. You had finally gotten to see Mark after weeks apart, and you would not let anyone come between you.

“I’m good,” you said absentmindedly, leaning in to steal his lips in another kiss.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, his words muffled against your mouth as you pressed more kisses to his lips.

You huffed in frustration. He clearly wasn't going to drop it until you answered. “Fine.”

You swiped your phone from where it lay on the coffee table and headed into your room, trying to keep your expression neutral.

“What!” you whispered-yelled in irritation when you answered.

“Renjun wanted me to ask when you were coming over for game night.” Haechan’s voice came through in amusement.

“Renjun told you to ask when I was coming over for game night? at 11:30 pm?”

"Yes"

“We haven't had game night in 2 months…” “Which is why I was trying to get that ball rolling again.”

You sign in frustration. “Did Renjun also tell Jaemin to call me or was that you?”

“You probably should have answered that. You know how he gets when you ignore his calls,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “He hates that.”

You sighed. “Haechan, what do you want?”

“I miss you. I want to know why you’re ignoring me. You stopped by the other day and didn’t even say hello.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not ignoring you, I promise. I was waiting up, but I didn’t know how long you would be,” you replied, your voice softening as you tried to explain. “I have to go though, I’m doing something.”

“Something named Mark? We all saw you with him. You know, that night at the party when you thought no one was looking,” he laughed darkly. “I already don’t like sharing you. You’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?”

The realization hit you hard. Jaemin had seemed off, and now you understood you might be in deeper trouble than you thought.

“Right now, I’m about to be your worst nightmare if you don’t stop blowing me up, and what I did that night is none of your business.”

“You don’t have time for me because you’re with him. I think that is my business,” Haechan pressed.

“I— I don’t have time for this, Haechan! I have to go!” Without waiting for a reply, you hung up, your mind racing. You rubbed a hand down your face, feeling the anxiety clawing at your insides. You were so screwed.

Taking a deep breath, you headed back out to the living room where Mark was waiting.

“Everything good?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

"Everything is perfect," you insisted, forcing a smile to mask your irritation. You couldn’t let the situation with Haechan ruin this moment. Not now.

Mark studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he picked up on the tension in your voice. You could see him searching your face, wanting to know what had just happened during your phone call.

“Are you sure?” he asks gently.

“Let’s just start another movie,” you suggested, getting up to grab the remote.

Mark’s hand found yours when you sat back down, squeezing gently. “Whatever you want, as long as I can hold you.”

—

Ever since that night, you and Haechan had been at odds with each other. If he hadn’t already hated Mark for leaving him with a project to complete alone, he definitely loathed him now for stealing you away.

“Don't let him get to you,” Yuna said, gliding gracefully in circles around you. She had practically dragged you out from under your blankets, ripping you away from the warmth of your heater to join her for some ice skating. Winter was her favorite time of year, but for you? The cold, the snow, and those bleak, gloomy skies felt more like a punishment than the jolliest season of the year.

You struggled to keep your balance on the ice, frowning at her as she effortlessly skated. “He’s being such an asshole right now. Acting like I’m going to just get rid of him or something!”

“Well, are you?” she teased, gliding up to you and grabbing your hands just in time to stop you from completely losing your balance.

There weren't many people at the rink tonight; the already chilly air grew frigid as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

“Of course not! I’m not getting rid of anyone. I just want to spend more time with Mark, that’s all. They’ve had their fun with me, it’s Mark’s turn,” you insisted, your voice wavering slightly as you shifted your weight.

“Our favorite little plaything,” she cooed, scratching under your chin like you were a cat.

“Stop, you’re so annoying!” you laughed, playfully shoving her away. You instantly regretted it as you lost your balance and fell.

Yuna burst into laughter, causing you to glare up at her. “I’m taking a break,” you pouted, waddling off the ice.

“Aw, come on! That was hilarious!” she called out, her voice trailing off in the distance as you moved to the safety of the bench just outside the rink.

You plopped down on the bench and let out a dramatic huff. Lifting your bag onto your lap, you dug through it in search of your phone, hoping that scrolling through some funny videos would lift your spirits. Instead, you found a text message from Haechan waiting for you.

Sunnyboy [8:00pm] miss how you feel pretty girl :(

Haechan had been torturing you for the past week in retaliation for you not making time for him. He had been bombarding you with pictures, showing himself gripping what was hidden beneath his grey sweats, videos of him stroking himself, his tip red and glistening with precum, and the worst of all—voice memos. If there was one thing you adored about Haechan other than what he could do with his mouth, it was his voice. The way he moaned drove you wild, he had a talent for begging so sweetly it made you weak and he knew it. In every voice memo he sounded like a slut and it was pushing all the right buttons. You needed him badly but he had to give you a taste of your own medicine first.

Whenever you tried to confront him, he feigned ignorance, playing coy like he had no idea what you were talking about. Over the phone, he would call just to tempt you, making you listen to him jerk off. His mic would pick up everything, the slick sounds his fingers made as he pumped himself to the sinful moans that he doesn't bother to hold back all before hanging up, leaving you wanting more. But when he was face-to-face with you, he acted like a saint, full of restraint. You had forgotten that while horny Haechan was a menace, brat Haechan was even worse.

He wouldn’t be satisfied until you came crawling to him on your knees, begging for forgiveness, and that was

Never.

Going.

To.

Happen.

You left him on read, knowing he would ignore your reply anyway, and made your way back onto the ice, hoping to escape the thoughts of him.

Later, you walked around town with Yuna, enjoying your little girls' outing. You loved hanging out with your friends, but one-on-one time felt more intimate in a way you cherished. You listened as Yuna shared stories about her winter break and showed you pictures of her dogs back home. She was eager for you to meet Menchi, the dog she had rescued from behind a froyo shop.

“You should have told me you weren’t going home for the holidays. I would have taken you with me!” she pouted. “You know my mom loves you.”

“As do they all,” you shrugged confidently. “Watch out—I might just become your stepmom.”

“Gay,” Yuna shot back, tossing a marshmallow from her cup at you. You had found a cozy late-night café to warm up before heading home.

“I’m an opportunist,” you replied, mixing your drink before taking a sip. You had gotten some wine, and the longer you stayed there, the more you loved the atmosphere. At night, the café transformed into a social club, serving up alcoholic beverages. You needed something to get your blood pumping and you were tired of hot cocoa.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you sigh as you see Haechan’s name on the screen again. Sunnyboy [10:23] Video attachment

"Who is it?" Yuna asked, sipping her coffee while trying to look at your screen. You quickly locked your phone before she could catch a glimpse. You didn’t need her seeing the outrageous things Haechan sends you.

"It's Haechan; I'm sorry. Give me a moment," you replied, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Once you were safe behind a stall, you unlocked your phone and navigated back to his messages. The bathroom was empty, but you still turned the volume down, cautious as you played the video. At first, you weren't sure what you were seeing until the camera angle shifted, and you gasped.

You couldn't see much, just a girl with her head in Haechan's lap, her hair obscuring her face and most of her actions. You turn the volume up a little and from the sounds of the video, it became clear what was happening. Haechan's hand rested on the back of her head, pushing it down until she was gagging. He moaned, holding her there until he finally let her come up for air. The video is short and sweet but you're still annoyed by the end of it. You noticed a message you had missed earlier beneath it. Sunnyboy [10:24] I can have fun without you too dont worry ur still my pretty grl

You shouldn’t be upset; you knew he wanted that reaction from you. If you showed your anger, it meant he had won, but damn, were you furious. You locked your phone and stormed out of the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" Yuna asked, concern etched on her face.

"Nothing. What were we talking about again?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. Yuna wanted to pry but saw the look in your eyes and knew now was not the time.

—

One way or another, you were going to show Haechan that you weren't the one to play with. You wouldn't fault him for going around and sleeping with other girls, you couldn’t, considering you were intimate with almost his entire friend group. However, you knew he was doing it to get under your skin, to provoke a reaction from you. And that's what infuriated you the most.

You had reached out to Renjun to see who was home, and he sent a text back letting you know it was just Jaemin and Haechan. You cursed under your breath, disappointed that Renjun wasn't home. He was the most suitable person to help you get under Haechans skin. If not him, then even Jeno would do, but you really wanted to avoid Jaemin. His punishment was not something you were looking forward to, but you steeled yourself, knowing it was a necessary evil in your quest for revenge against Haechan.

You were determined to get revenge, no matter the cost. You would walk through fire to make Haechan pay, and that included facing the punishment Jaemin was going to give you. You could only avoid it for so long. It was time to rip the band-aid off and if you could inflict some well-deserved payback on Haechan in the process, all the better. You [8:57] my prince wru doing today? Nana [9:00] well arent u sweet Im at home why? You [9:01] can i come thru? I miss you Nana [9:15] Oh now you miss me You [9:16] Please jaem im sorry Nana [9:45] You know your in trouble when you get here right?

When you knock on the door, it swings open to reveal Haechan, casually dressed in an oversized white t-shirt and shorts, a devilish smirk plastered across his face. His eyes take in your figure, and it’s clear he thinks he’s already won this round. The cute pink set you wore just for Jaemin catches his attention, and a flicker of desire ignites behind his gaze. You can tell you’ve got him hooked, but you have other plans.

With a determined stride, you walk past Haechan, refusing to give him a glance, fully aware of the heat of his gaze boring into your back. You get a rush of satisfaction the moment you catch a glimpse of his expression shifting from smug confidence to disappointment when he realizes you aren’t there for him. You can’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that Jaemin's punishment is about to be so worth it. Before Haechan can react or try to get his hands on you, you slip into Jaemin’s room, shutting the door firmly behind you before locking it.

Jaemin is already perched on the edge of his bed, waiting for you. His relaxed posture exudes an air of dominance that sends a thrill down your spine. He's got an easy smile on his face that you know not to trust. He sports a fitted black tank top, clinging just right, and loose grey sweats that hang low on his hips as his legs spread wide. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from a bedside lamp creating an intimate atmosphere.

You give him your sweetest smile, making sure to sway your hips as you close the distance. Standing between his legs, you let your hand come to rest on his jawline, your thumb grazing his cheek as he looks up at you. He’s so pretty—pretty eyes, pretty lips, and pretty lashes that frame his gaze perfectly. Behind that pretty exterior lies something dangerous but alluring.

“I love that color on you, princess. It’s my favorite,” he murmurs, his eyes roving over your figure.

You lean down, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “Thank you, Jaem. I know” you reply.

Maybe he wasn’t as mad as you thought.

“Did I say you could touch me?” His voice drips sweetly, yet the underlying bite sends a shiver through you.

Or maybe he was

You can feel the weight of your impending punishment closing in on you. Instantly, you pout and drop to your knees, resting your head against one of his thighs as you look up at him, your hand soothing the other.

“Don’t be like that, Jaem. I said I was sorry,” you plead, giving him your most pitiful puppy dog eyes.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness, and you close your eyes, relishing the sweet caress. But suddenly, his grip shifts to the back of your head, yanking your hair until you’re forced to meet his glare.

“I thought I asked you a question,” he states, eyes darkening. “I know you heard me, baby. Did I say you could touch me?”

“No, sir,” you whisper, a shiver of anticipation coursing through you.

“Hands behind your back,” he commands, releasing your hair.

You comply, settling back on your knees, heart racing as you await his next command.

“Don’t give me that look, baby. You know I hate being mean,” he says, standing up from the bed and moving to his closet. When he returns, it’s with a box of toys—the sight makes you clench your thighs involuntarily. “You know I treat you like a princess when you deserve it.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just—”

“Busy with Mark?” He tilts his head in question as he rummages through the box, pulling out a few toys. “I’m not mad. Just tell me one thing, does he fuck you better than I can?”

You swallow hard, biting back a whine. “No, sir,” you finally manage, desperation creeping into your voice.

“Then why does he get your attention while I get ignored?” The question hangs heavy in the air, and you know you have no answer.

“Looks like I just need to remind you who you belong to. Get undressed.”

Once you’re completely bare before him, he nods to the bed, and you get on the mattress, kneeling near the edge, obediently waiting for his instructions.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe.

“I’ve got a new toy. Can I try it with you?” He pulls out a bar with cuffs on either side and cuffs in the middle, designed to keep your legs open and your hands bound.

“What is that?” you ask, tilting your head in curiosity.

“It’s to keep you open for me,” he explains, voice smooth as silk. “Do you want to try?

Mind racing, you nod eagerly before catching yourself. “Yes, sir,” you correct, using your words. It had been awhile since you had been with Jaemin so you had to remember his rules

“Hands and knees then precious,” he commands.

As you position yourself, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbles inside you. You had never been bound like this before. You could feel yourself dripping and you had almost forgotten this was all for your punishment. He secures the velcro cuffs around your ankles, and makes you thread your arms underneath your body, binding your wrists to the bar in the center. Face down, ass up, spread wide—completely at his mercy. A breathless gasp escapes you as you realize just how vulnerable you’ve become, the anticipation coursing through your veins like electricity. You can feel butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Jaemin,” you whine.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked. His brow furrowed, studying your reaction, waiting for any sign of discomfort.

You whined again, feeling like you were about to implode. "Do something," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he playfully slapped your ass before leaving a gentle kiss that made your breath hitch. The spreader bar dug into your skin, forcing your body to arch in a way that’s almost painfully perfect. There was something about the compromising position that left you feeling extra sensitive. You’ve never felt so open, so on display, and it’s making you melt.

He walks over to reach back into his box of toys and pulls out a blindfold. You look up at him, eyes shining in a silent beg that you hope makes him go easier on you but he just kisses your cheek and ties the blind fold, stealing your vision. The darkness is immediate, suffocating, and it only heightens every other sensation.

You let out a soft sigh as his warm hands glided down your back, kneading your ass. You tense up a little, bracing yourself for the sharp sting of a slap that never comes. Instead his hands leave your body completely, leaving you to wonder what he would do next. You were dripping and you wanted to rub your legs together. You needed to find some kind of friction to ease the ache that was building inside you but the spreader bar held you firm and it was killing you.

You heard the door open and close and you groaned in frustration. He was gone for a few moments and you're glad he came back when he did because you were about to start crying and maybe scream for Haechan to come finish you off.

You hear the faint clink of glass against wood, and then his hands are on you again, cold and wet. Ice. He must have taken a sip of water, letting it chill his lips before he pressed them to your skin.

You gasp as his cold kisses trail down your back. His lips are teasing, brushing over every inch of your skin except where you need him most. When his mouth reaches the back of your thighs, you whine, desperate and broken. He’s avoiding you, toying with you, and it’s driving you insane. You hated this, you would rather him spank you until your ass was raw and get it over with but Jaemin was hellbent on making you suffer, making you feel the longing he had to endure.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe. “Look at that.” His thumb finds your clit, circling it lightly, and you moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. Anything. But he just chuckles, his hand leaving you again, and you feel the sharp sting of his palm against your ass. He pulls your cheeks apart and a silent “fuck” slips out as he observes you. “I always have so much fun with you, precious,” he says, leaning over you. His body is warm against your back, his hardened length pressing into you as he whispers in your ear. “I want you to myself so bad. I really hate sharing you.” Your breath hitches, and you push back against him, grinding your hips into his. “I’m yours, Nana,” you promise, your voice trembling. He doesn’t stop you, letting you rock against him, begging for relief. But just as you’re about to lose yourself in the friction, he pulls away, leaving you aching and empty. You hear the clink of the glass again, and shiver as you feel him press a cold ice cube against your pussy lips. He holds it in between his lips as it melts and drips down your cunt making you yelp. “Nana, it's cold.”

He slaps the back of your thigh, his mouth too full to speak. The ice eventually melts and you feel his tongue, cold and wet, tracing through your folds, and you whimper. It’s maddening. He’s relentless, licking and teasing, never giving you the pressure you need. You’re drenched, your thighs shaking, and all you can do is take it. You’re his to play with.

You know this isn't even the beginning of what he had in store for you.

“So fucking greedy,” he says, pulling away for just a moment. “That’s why you needed Mark, huh? We weren’t enough for you?”

“It’s not like that,” you choke out, your voice cracking with the tears threatening to spill.

“It’s okay, baby. I like sluts. They always make the prettiest noises when I break them.”

His tongue pushes into you, deep and searching, and you scream, your face buried in the sheets. His hands grip your thighs, holding you against his face, his tongue curling and flicking until you’re seeing stars. He moves to your clit, sucking and teasing, and you’re so close. His fingers dip inside of you and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes at the pleasure. His fingers thrust and curl up inside of you until your body is tensing up. You’re about to cum but then he pulls away and you sob.

“No! Don’t stop, please!” You hated orgasm denial and of course Jaemin found out about this little weakness of yours somehow.

“That’s too bad,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “Been spoiling this pussy too much, now it's become greedy.”

He watches as silent cries and hiccups make your body shake. His hands move gently, rubbing soothing circles against your lower back until your breathing begins to steady, letting you throw your tantrum. You feel him loosen the blindfold, and you blink to bring your vision into focus. Tear-filled eyes meet his gaze, and he leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "How’s my princess doing?" he asks, checking in on you again.

"I'm fine," you sniffle, but your voice falters as you add, "Please make me cum."

He chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Not yet, love," he replies.

You hear the sound of something being pulled from his box, and then you feel it—a vibration against your clit. It’s the rose toy, and the moment he turns it on, you lose all coherence. “F—oh my god!”

He holds it against you, the low setting sending a heady rush of pleasure through your body. You’re close again, your muscles tightening, but he pulls away just as you’re about to tip over the edge. “Be a good girl just a little longer, and you can have me,” he reminds you.

Your mind is swirling, pleasure clouding your thoughts. Your brain was practically mush in your head and when he leans back down to lick up your slickness, you completely lose it. Instantly, your legs quake, heat pooling in your lower belly, and you cry out, hips pushing back against his face for more. You were close again but it’s as if Jaemin has a sixth sense and he pulls away again.

"No, no, no, no, no!" you repeat urgently, your voice rising in frustration, but also laced with desperation

"It's ok, we're almost done," Jaemin's soothing voice tries to calm you down. “Take it one more time for me," he coaxes, "and I'll let you cum."

You’re a mess, tears streaking your face, your body trembling with need. He pulls off his shirt, then his sweats and briefs, and you hear the soft sound of him stroking himself. He groans as he watches you drip onto his sheets. The tip of his cock is angry red, and the way he grips himself tells you he’s close to breaking too.

He presses the tip of his cock against you, letting it slip through your folds before he’s pushing the tip in. Your throat had grown horse from how loud you had been moaning and screaming. Your back arches deeper as he fucks you with just the tip. He picks up the vibrator again, pressing it against your clit, and you’re so close. He bites his bottom lip as he watches the way you squirm. He was driving you insane. His free hand held firm on your hip to keep you still when you tried to press back into him. You were about to cum but he pulls out, switching the vibrator off, and you sob, your legs shaking as another orgasm is ripped away from you.

Jaemin’s hands move swiftly, the velcro cuffs releasing with a soft rip as he unbinds your ankles and wrists. The spreader bar is tossed carelessly to the side, landing somewhere on the bed with a muffled thud. Before you can even process the relief of being freed, his strong hands are flipping you onto your back, and there’s no time to catch your breath before he’s positioning himself between your legs.

“Jaem, wait—it’s too much,” you gasp, your voice breaking as he pushes into you, the stretch almost overwhelming after so much teasing. Your body jolts, every nerve alight with sensitivity, and your nails instinctively rake down his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. He hisses, but his pace doesn’t falter, his thrusts deep and relentless.

He doesn’t hear you, only responding with a growl as his hands grip your thighs and shove them up against your chest as he continues to fuck you.

The angle is punishing. Your body arches, every muscle tensing as pleasure builds to a breaking point. You’re so close, teetering on the edge, and then—you’re there. Your body convulses as you cry out, your release soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you. You’re squirting, the sensation utterly overwhelming, and you hear Jaemin’s voice, rough and guttural, as he watches the mess you’ve made.

“Fuckkk,” he moans, as he gazes down at you. “So fucking good. This pussy is so fucking good.” His words are a low growl, and you can see the way his eyes flutter, his own control slipping as he gets lost in the sight of you.

But he doesn’t stop. His hips snap forward again, driving into you intensely. His hands move to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it in a firm but not crushing grip. You gasp, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax, and he leans down, his breath against your ear.

“You gonna answer me when I call you? Gonna text me back?” he demands, his voice low and commanding, his gaze intense as he searches your face for an answer.

“Yes, Nana!” you scream, your voice raw and ragged, your body thrumming with overstimulation. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again.

“Are you going to make me punish you again?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, but it’s no less threatening. His hand tightens slightly around your throat, and you whimper, shaking your head frantically.

“No, Nana.”

“That’s my fucking princess, atta girl.” He says, his lips curling into a wicked grin, his eyes alight with pride. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin, and you’re mesmerized by the way he looks in this moment—utterly wild. Your juices drip down his thighs, and your eyes flicker to the claw marks decorating his biceps, a testament to how badly you’ve wanted him, how much you’ve needed him.

He’s insane, and you love it.

His thrusts grow harder, more erratic, and you can feel him teetering on the edge. His hand leaves your throat, moving to grip your hip as he drives into you one last time. He groans, his body tensing as he spills into you, his release hot and filling. You can feel him pulsing inside you, and it’s enough to send a final, weak shiver of pleasure through your body.

When he pulls out, you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent. Your muscles ache, your throat is sore, and you’re completely wrecked. Jaemin catches his breath above you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and you swear it’s like watching a switch flip. The demon that had possessed him—the one that had pushed you to the brink over and over—it’s gone, replaced by the Jaemin you know. His eyes soften, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle now, almost tender.

“Was that too much?”

“Never.”

After cleaning you up, changing the sheets, and tending to your bruises you decide to spend the night. You had no energy to get up and go home, you weren't sure you could even walk to do so. That morning you wake up in Jaemin's arms, snuggled up to his chest with your legs intertwined. You catch a glimpse of his sleeping face and can't help but smile.

You kiss his nose and untangle yourself from the sheets, careful not to disturb him. He's a deep sleeper, and all he does is roll over and go back to sleep. You quietly get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen to get some water.

You pour yourself a cup of water, savoring the silence of the morning. The gentle chirping of birds fills the air as you lean against the counter, relaxing with a content sigh and letting your mind wander to thoughts of nothing.

Your peaceful moment is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by footsteps approaching. You assume it's Jaemin coming to join you, but you freeze when Haechan rounds the corner.

In that instant, you remember the original reason you had come over—to rile him up. And boy, does he look pissed. He watches you with a fierce glare as you gulp down your cup of water, standing in front of the fridge while he remains across the kitchen, separated from you by the island.

"When you're ready to come home, I'll be right here," Haechan says.

“You're talking about what?" You inquire annoyed.

How our little Princess runs to everyone but me when she's needy." He rebuttals.

"You brought this on yourself," you shoot back. "You decided to send those photos to get a rise out of me, so forgive me if I felt inspired to do the same."

“Jaemin did a number on you, didn't he?" he says, his eyes drifting to your skin, where the bruises from Jaemin are visible.

Your face flushes as you remember the bruises that litter your skin and how loud you were with Jaemin. “Maybe he did. But that’s none of your business, Haechan.”

“Except it is. it's a little hard to ignore when you're parading around with marks from someone else."

"Maybe they could have been from you if you weren't so insufferable," you snap.

"I've wanted it to be me, but you're too busy with your new plaything," Haechan says, his jaw set in irritation.

"I wish you would stop worrying about Mark." You whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down from waking the whole house. “What's your issue with him anyway?”

"Besides him fucking me over for my last project… let me think. Maybe it's the fact that you're throwing us to the side for him."

You feel a twinge of guilt at his words, but you try to deflect it. "You're ridiculous when you're jealous, you know that right?"

"Says the girl who just screwed my roommate to get back at me," Haechan says, his voice cold. He rounds the corner of the island and closes in on you.

"Only because you never learned how to wait your turn."

"Don't like sharing," Haechan says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Not my problem, maybe one of those girls can keep you company."

He pins you against the counter, his eyes boring down on you. "Stop acting like you don't want me, if you didn't want me, you wouldn't be here right now."

You glare back at him, trying to maintain your cool. "Well, you're in my way," you say, gesturing to your current position pinned against the counter.

"Admit you want me," Haechan challenges. "Then you can go."

You refuse to answer, keeping your mouth shut as he looms over you. You can practically feel his pent-up desire and frustration as he eye-fucks you a breath away.

His hands find their way to your waist, and with a subtle firmness, he pulls you away from the counter, pinning you to the cool surface of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You find yourself face down on the marble as Haechan stands behind you. His hips pressed into your ass as he reached around to the front of your panties. The soft pads of his fingers stroke you through your panties, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Soaked just like I thought,” he murmured, his voice teasing. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Fuck you, Donghyuck,” you spit.

He chuckled, his breath huffing against your neck. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, and you clenched your jaw, determined to stay quiet. But your body betrayed you, your legs parting almost instinctively.

“That’s right, princess. Keep that damn mouth closed and let your body talk,” he said. His fingers teased your clit, and you jolted when he pinched it sharply.

“You’re an asshole,” you hissed, glaring at him over your shoulder.

His innocent expression didn’t fool you for a second. “Me? Never.” His fingers dipped deeper, stretching you open, and you couldn’t help but grind against his palm. His other hand slid up your shirt, his rough palm massaging your breast. You could feel his hardness pressing into you, and he rocked his hips forward, the friction maddening.

The sound of a door creaking open down the hall made you freeze. Your heart skipped a beat, your body heating up with embarrassment. It wasn’t like the guys hadn’t seen you in compromising positions before, but this—bent over the kitchen island at nine in the morning, legs spread open—felt different.

Jaemin emerged from the hall and paused in the doorway, his sleepy eyes taking in the scene for a moment before he shrugged. He yawned, reaching into the cupboard for a bowl, completely unfazed. He leaned against the counter opposite you, crunching on his cereal as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Haechan didn’t stop, and didn't even acknowledge Jaemin’s presence. His fingers continued to thrust into you, his pace relentless. He didn’t care about anything other than the way you were clenching down around his fingers as he scissored you open.

Haechan slipped a third finger into you, and your attention snapped back to him. “Focus on me, baby. Why can’t you ever focus on me?” he tutted, his fingers curling inside you. You whined, your body trembling as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

Jaemin’s eyes were on you, watching intently as Haechan worked you closer and closer to the edge. The combination of Haechan’s fingers, his palm teasing your breast, and Jaemin’s gaze was overwhelming.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice breathy and desperate.

Haechan smirked, his fingers slowing just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. “I don’t think so, princess. You don’t deserve it.”

“Jaemin,” Maybe he’d take pity on you and finish you off if Haechan wouldn’t. You plead and turn your head to look at him.

“Calling for another man when I’m right here? You just don’t learn,” Haechan sneered, his hand leaving your breast to deliver a stinging slap to your thigh.

“Sorry, princess, I can’t save you,” Jaemin said with a teasing smile. He set his bowl in the sink, pausing to press a kiss to your temple before heading back to his room, leaving you at Haechan’s mercy.

Your thighs trembled, your body begging for release. “Please, Haechan. I’m sorry. Please don’t stop.”

You turned your body enough to pull him into a desperate kiss. You missed his lips, the way they felt against yours. It was him—only him—you wanted. He faltered for a moment, his breath stuttering before he regained his composure and pulled away. He had to stand on business.

“Uh-uh, baby. You were bad,” he said, his fingers slowing to an agonizing pace. You squirmed in his grasp, your orgasm slipping further away.

“No, no, please, no!” you begged, rocking against his hand pathetically. But he didn’t relent. His fingers stopped entirely, and he pulled away, leaving you empty and frustrated.

“Better go find Mark to finish you off,” he said with a bite, his tone sharp and cutting. He turned on his heel and left the kitchen, leaving you alone and seething.

You slumped against the island, your body still throbbing with need. That bastard. You wanted to scream, to chase after him and demand he finish what he started. But instead, you stayed put, your mind racing as you tried to figure out your next move.

Now more than ever you wanted to rip his head off.

—

You had been grumpy all week, and your friends were starting to notice.

Sitting around the fire pit, the crackling flames burn hot against the chilly winter night. The air was biting cold, each breath forming a small cloud of mist that vanished into the darkness. Snowflakes continued to fall gently, blanketing everything in a thick layer of white, while your friends settled in around the fire. Absent-mindedly, you burned your marshmallow to a crisp, imagining it was Haechan melting over the flames.

“You guys see that evil look in her eyes?” Jisung asked the group, bundling himself tighter in his parka and scooting a little closer to Yuna for safety.

“And no one believes me when I tell you she’s been signing me up for spam emails!” Yangyang chimed in, his hands tucked deep in his pockets, shaking his head dramatically.

“Because why would she do that?” Yuna defended you, shooting both of them a disapproving look.

You smirked at her loyalty. To be honest, you had signed him up for all those spam emails, but only after he pushed you into a lake two summers ago, right after you’d spent hours on your hair. Your favorite form of revenge came in the shape of minor inconveniences.

“She’s got you all brainwashed. I’m going to expose her. Just you wait!” Yangyang declared under his breath, plotting your demise.

You roasted another marshmallow, this one perfectly toasted, and handed it to Yuna. She smiled and took a bite, closing her eyes in bliss.

A few days had passed since Haechan left you hanging in the kitchen, and your frustration was starting to build up. Mark was suddenly too busy to reply, Renjun was buried under a mountain of books, Jaemin was working overtime, and Jeno… well, Jeno was back at the gym. He had invited you numerous times, but you had been hoping for a different kind of workout.

“There’s nothing wrong, guys. I’m just cold and picturing Chenle as a marshmallow for dragging us out here,” you lied smoothly.

Chenle rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s called bonding, you ungratefuls. We haven’t had a chance to hang out in forever!”

“Yeah, maybe because it’s been negative two degrees outside,” Mia chimed in.

“I’m having a great time, Lele.” Jisung declared, flashing a warm smile despite the chill.

“Stop flirting,” Yangyang teased as he scooped up a handful of snow and crafted a perfect snowball. He hurled it over the fire pit, and it landed squarely in Jisung’s chest.

Jisung’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Hey! I thought you were on my side!” he shot back, throwing his own snowball in retaliation.

Laughter filled the air as Jisung and Yangyang dashed through the snow-covered field in the woods behind the campus, their shouts echoing through the trees. A stray snowball from Yangyang hit you in the back of the head, and in an instant, you shot up, declaring war.

You charged at Yangyang, who was doubled over with laughter. The others joined in, hurling snowballs at each other, blissfully caught up in the chaos. You took the opportunity to sneak up on Yangyang, aiming to smother him in the snow when no one was looking.

“I told you she was crazy! Look!” he cried, but no one seemed to pay him any mind as they all ran, slipping and tumbling in the soft snow. The laughter, the playful shouts, and the thrill you got from strangling Yangyang made you forget everything else that had been troubling you. Chenle was right, hanging out with everyone was worth it. By the end of the night, you found yourself laughing easily and feeling relaxed.

—-

Renjun had a secret.

He was at your apartment today, just like he was every Tuesday, surrounded by a mess of textbooks and scattered notes. The coffee table was a chaotic mess of highlighters and crumpled paper, a testament to your hard work during the study session. Soft music played in the background and you hummed along quietly.

His secret?

While his roommates thought you were growing distant, Renjun didn’t feel any distance at all. The truth was, he had been tutoring you for months, regularly texting you and making sure to see you once a week since winter break. So when the guys complained about your lack of attention, he just played along. Unlike them, he wasn’t worried about Mark because he didn’t have to be. Mark wasn’t taking you from him, so he couldn’t care less about the “competition.” They had no idea about the tutoring sessions, and he was perfectly fine keeping it that way. He enjoyed having you all to himself, and he wasn’t about to let anyone ruin that so he kept his mouth shut.

Most of the time, you two really did focus on studying and making progress, but there were occasions when things got heated. By the look in your eyes, Renjun could tell that this would be one of those times.

“Why do you look like you’re about to pounce on me when you still haven’t tackled number 7?” he teased, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. He leaned back against the couch, closing his textbook.

“Because I can’t focus. I’m just… horny,” you groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “Everyone’s been too busy to hook up, and this 8=D is starting to look way too much like a penis!”

Renjun picked up your paper and glanced at it, snorting with laughter. “Well, you literally just made that up, so let’s start there,” he chuckled, handing it back to you as you sat cross-legged on the carpet, trying to find some semblance of concentration.

“It was on the paper, I swear it was!” you protested, dramatically laying your head against the coffee table hoping the cold wood would cool you down.

“Need me to take care of you?” he asked sweetly.

“No, I can do this. I’m just being pathetic,” you insisted, sitting up straight and attempting to put on your best brave face, but it was getting harder by the second.

“Really? Are you sure? I’ll make it quick,” he replied, a hint of desperation in his eyes. Maybe he needed it just as much as you did.

You looked at him, and your resolve just crumbled. You were starting to feel a bit like a whore, but honestly, it was hard not to be when everyone was so irresistible. Each one of them had their own charm and quirks that you couldn’t help but love. They each drew you in making it impossible for you to replace any of them. You wished they would understand that and stop worrying about Mark.

Renjun was the one who kept the balance among the chaos, never demanding too much but always there when you needed him. That’s what you liked most about him: his easygoing attitude. He could adapt to every situation, cracking jokes at the right moments while always knowing when to be serious. He was sweet but firm, guiding you without pushing. With his playful charm and sass, he kept you on your toes, making every moment fun. Renjun was your anchor, the constant in your life that you could rely on. You could talk to him about anything, and he always knew how to make you feel better. He was your always.

You finally let out a deep sigh, and the tension in your shoulders eased just a little. “Okay, I could use a little help relaxing,” you said as the corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, making you think he’s going to lay you down on the mattress but he guides you to the connected bathroom instead. He turns on the shower, checking the temperature and making sure it’s warm enough before both of you start to peel away your clothes. Once under the soothing cascade of water, you let out a sigh of relief.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close for a moment, letting you rest and relax against him. Then, he gently pulls away and kisses you, his lips soft against yours. He presses you against the cold tile of the shower, and you shiver, but the warmth of the water quickly envelops you, warming your skin as the kiss deepens.

“Am I selfish for wanting to keep you all to myself?” he whispers, laying kisses under your ear.

“I wouldn't mind” you whisper back, meeting his gaze before bringing his lips back to you.

The water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet before swirling down the drain. Renjun’s lips trailed along your jawline, his breath warm as the steam rises around you. His thigh pressed firmly between your legs, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you as you instinctively rolled your hips against him. You couldn’t help but moan softly into his mouth.

“God, Renjun,” you gasped, your hands sliding up his slick chest to rest on his shoulders. His skin was so smooth under your fingertips and you dug your nails in lightly as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate, tasting every inch of your mouth as if he wanted to memorize it.

His hands slid down your sides to grip your hips. He lifted you slightly, shifting his thigh higher, and you gasped at the sudden pressure against your core. Your head fell back against the wall, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as he nipped at your neck, leaving little marks that made you squirm.

You tilted your hips forward, seeking more friction, more contact, more. Renjun chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and he reached down to grip the back of your thigh, lifting it to hook around his waist. The shift in position made you groan, the angle perfect as he pressed himself harder against you.

“Is this what you needed?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand moved between you, fingers teasing your clit, and you nodded frantically, unable to form words. All you could feel was him—his touch, his warmth, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours.

Renjun’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds, and you whimpered, arching into his touch. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You really were desperate, weren’t you?”

You didn’t even try to deny it, too far gone to care about anything except the way his fingers circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure racing through you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rocked against his hand, chasing the sensation, and he let out a soft groan, his own need evident in the way his hips pressed insistently against your leg.

“Fuck, Renjun,” you moaned, your voice breaking as his fingers slipped inside you, curling just right to make your vision blur. “Don’t stop… please…” If he stopped you would just die. You couldn’t take any more teasing.

“I won’t,” he promised, his lips capturing yours again in a searing kiss as his fingers worked you expertly, plunging in and out while his thumb rubbed tight, insistent circles against your clit. The combination was overwhelming, and you clung to him, your legs trembling as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you.

“Look at me,” he commanded, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark with lust, but there was something softer there too, something tender that made your heart stutter. You obeyed, locking eyes with him as he increased the pace of his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “Come on baby. Cum for me.”

The command broke something inside you, and you came with a cry, your body shuddering in pleasure. Renjun held you through it, his arms strong and steady as you rode out the aftershocks, your breathing ragged and uneven.

When you finally opened your eyes, he was watching you with a smug grin, his hair plastered to his forehead and his lips swollen from kissing. “Feel better now?” he asked, his tone light but his expression still hungry.

“Much,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But we're not done.”

He laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh, I know.” With that, he turned you around, pressing your front against the tiled wall. Anticipation coursing through you as he stepped closer, his chest flush against your back.

“Ready for another?” he murmured, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips. Your breath hitched as he nipped at your shoulder.

“Always,” you breathed, reaching back to thread your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled before kicking your legs open further and guiding himself to your entrance, the tip teasing at your slick folds. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

You bit your lip, your whole body quivering with need. “You,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. “Just you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and then he was pushing into you, filling you completely in one hard stroke. You cried out, the stretch and fullness stealing your breath as he began to move, his pace steady and relentless.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust into you.

“Harder,” you begged, nails digging into the tiles as he obliged, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tight in your belly, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

“Cum with me,” he growled, his voice strained as he reached around to rub your clit, the added stimulation pushing you over the edge. You shatter, crying out his name as he follows after you, his release spilling deep inside you.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, panting and tangled together, the water washing away the evidence of your passion. Finally, Renjun shifted, pulling you back against his chest as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Let me stay tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness and contentment. “No more studying, no more stress. Just us.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his temple and nodded, holding him tight. “Anything for you, always.”

When you step out he dries you off and helps you slip on a robe and some slippers. He’s got a towel draped around his hips, and another sits on his head as he towel-dries his damp hair. You glance at him, feeling a lazy wave wash over you; the thought of getting dressed seems pointless when you know your hands might wander again throughout the night.

—

Ringing

Ringing

Ringing

This mailbox is currently full please try—

Mark’s phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t pick up. After a few moments, you hang up with a frustrated groan. You’ve been trying to reach him all day, and it was unusual for him not to respond at all. You had spoken to him a little over the past week but it was always a quick text here or there. He’s always made time for you, so the silence feels deafening. You try to shrug it off, but something gnaws in the back of your mind.

You make your way to Jisung's door and knock. Chenle answers it, looking like he’s about to head out.

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.

“In his room, playing video games. What’s up?” Chenle says, adjusting his shades.

“Mark’s acting weird, he hasn’t replied to my messages,” you explain.

“Ha ha! Someone's getting a taste of their own medicine!” Chenle teases, grinning. He and the others know the details of your drama with Mark and the guys, but you still haven't told Jisung everything. You didn't know how to bring up your arrangement with Mark without making it awkward. He knows the two of you talk, but you’ve kept the specifics to yourself.

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes. “Where are you going, anyway?”

“Jisung’s being loud with the game, and I need silence. I’m going to go bother Yangyang and Kun.”

“Just don't go over there stressing Kun. He’s my backup husband and I don't need you raising his blood pressure.”

“Lol whatever,” Chenle laughs, closing the door behind him.

When you enter Jisungs room, you see Jisung seated at his desk, yelling into his mic while playing an online game. Big chunky headphones sit atop his head, and the RGB lights of his keyboard and mouse illuminate his dark room.

You tap his shoulder, causing him to jump and yell into the mic. You hear muffled voices coming from his headset. From Jisung's "Sorry, guys," you can assume his teammates are scolding him for almost bursting their eardrums.

“Hold on, guys, I’ve gotta go AFK real quick,” he says, muting his mic and taking off one headphone.

“You scared me! Did Lele let you in?” he asks, confused.

“Yeah, sorry,” you instantly regret barging in to ask him a dumb question now that you see he’s busy. “I was just wondering if you’ve seen Mark lately? He hasn’t been picking up.” Your cheeks heat up when you realize how needy and stupid you sound. Maybe you can’t fault Haechan for the way he acted because here you are sounding the same way.

“Mark? Yeah, one sec,” he replies, pulling up Discord on his second screen. “Looks like he’s playing League with Haechan. They’ve been grinding for days. I swear, he’s addicted.”

“Mark games?” you ask, surprised. He’d never mentioned it before.

“Yeah, he joined our Discord server like a week ago. Haechan got him hooked on Overwatch and League now.”

Your mouth drops open as everything starts to click into place in your mind. That bastard.

You reach for Jisung's mouse and start scrolling through his chat. Sure enough, there are messages back and forth between Mark, Haechan, Jisung, Jeno, and Jaemin. It makes sense that they’d be gaming together. Before Jisung can stop you, you begin typing in the chat.

thefamousandy [9:33] Haechan you’re dead

—

Lately it's like Mark is never alone, Haechan is always right there with him. It feels like everywhere you turn, there’s Haechan.You spot them on campus, and it’s hard to miss Haechan casually hanging off Mark’s shoulder, that signature cocky smirk plastered on his face as he catches your eye for a split second. If you text Mark to hang out, his response is always “Can’t, out with Haechan already.”

Finally, you’re hanging out alone with Mark at his place, but instead of the quiet, intimate time you were hoping for, you're subjected to a marathon of Mark's League of Legends ramblings. Every sentence starts with the name "Haechan."

Haechan showed me how to…

Me and Haechan played until…

Haechan is really good at…

Haechan

Haechan

Haechan

You were starting to feel like you're stuck in some kind of bizarre, Haechan-centric vortex. You think you might just kill Haechan.

Mark mentions the others, too, but it's like they're mere background noise. All you can hear is Haechan's name echoing in your mind.

"…and then Haechan told me about this one champion, Ezreal, and how you can use his Mystic Shot to last-hit minions from a safe distance. I'm glad Jisung introduced us I’ve been wanting to get into league for forever” he says and you zone back in

"Wait, wait, Jisung introduced you to Haechan?" you ask.

“Yeah, he said they needed another person on their team,” Mark replies.

Right after Haechan, you think you might just kill Jisung too.

“You really like this game, huh? I want to see if you’re any good,” you tease, already cooking up a plan in your head to shut him up.

Mark blushes a little. “Nah, I’m not that good, really. Haechan carries the team.”

You feel a twitch in your jaw at the sound of that name.

“Well, I want to watch you play. it sounds fun! Maybe I can get good and join too,” you say, determined to keep him focused on you.

Mark beams at you, and you trail behind him to his room as he powers up his computer. Without hesitation, you settle into his lap, and he reaches around you to log in. You can’t help but think he looks adorable in his little gamer headphones.

As he dives into the game, he starts explaining the mechanics and the characters but it all sounds like blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff. Your eyes drift away from the screen and back to Mark's face, where you get lost in the sparkle in his eyes.

“Are you even listening?” Mark chuckles, his smile widening as he glances at you. You realize you’ve been staring at him for the past three minutes.

“Sorry, it’s just… you’re such a nerd, and it’s kinda hot,” you admit.

His cheeks flush a bright red, and he shakes his head, turning back to the screen to hide his embarrassment. You can’t help but smile as you watch him grow shy under your gaze. He playfully scolds you, “Pay attention!”

A notification pops up on his screen. thyluvhae is online.

You watch as Mark types out a response to Haechan’s request to play Overwatch. “Wanna watch me play a quick match?” he asks.

“Of course!” you smile.

Mark turns on his mic and greets the guys, while you settle back into his lap, content to watch for a little while. He finishes a round, glancing over to check if it’s okay to boot up another.

About halfway through his second round, you shift in his lap and push yourself off, kneeling between his legs. Mark’s eyes flicked down to you, wide with surprise, but before he could say anything, someone on his team started shouting instructions, pulling his attention back to the game.

His hands stayed glued to the mouse and keyboard, but you could see the tension in his body as you began to glide your hands up and down his thighs. Your touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to make his breath hitch. He stuttered a little on his sentences when he responded to something that was said, his voice trembling slightly.

You decided to escalate, pulling him from his sweats. His sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but you heard it. He covered it with a cough, his cheeks flushing as he tried to maintain his composure. You spit on his tip, the wetness glistening in the dim light, and began to stroke him with slow, deliberate movements. You take him into your mouth and swirl your tongue deviously around his tip before you trail teasing kisses down the side of his cock,

Mark’s hand shot up to mute his mic, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He looked torn between wanting to tangle his hands in your hair and needing to keep playing the game. The team was too close to victory, and they had been trying all day to secure a win. His moans were quiet and breathy, still afraid someone might hear him.

You paused for a moment, looking up at him deviously. “Let me hear you, baby. Don’t be shy,” you whispered. With that you took him back into your mouth and down your throat.

Mark’s moans picked up in volume, his legs spreading wider as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into your mouth. The sound of his keyboard clacking and his mouse clicking filled the room, but you could tell he was struggling to focus. It wasn’t long before his fingers suddenly stopped moving, and he froze. A long, shaky inhale escaped his lips, and his hips twitched upward involuntarily.

You knew you were doing a good job when he let out a low groan, and his fingers flexed on the keyboard. He jolted as someone on his team snapped him out of his trance, bringing him back to the game. Quickly, he unmuted himself. “I’m here, I’m here. I—my eyes are just tired. I’m sorry,” he lied, his voice strained as he tried to cover up his gasps.

You continued to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, and Mark leaned forward, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony. “Fuck,” he groaned into the mic, his voice trembling. “F-fuck, I almost died,” he said quickly, trying to cover up his moans.

The match dragged on, and you could feel Mark’s frustration building. His body taut with tension as you continued to work him. Finally, the match ended, and Mark let out a sigh of relief. He leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling as he watched you.

Without a word, he reached down and gathered your hair into a ponytail, using it as a makeshift handle to control you. “That’s right, open that throat up,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. He pushed your head down, forcing you to take him into the back of your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel him throbbing against your tongue.

Mark’s head leaned back against the headrest of his gaming chair, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. He held you there for a moment, savoring the feeling before pulling you off of him. He shivers with a groan. “Just like that.”

You stare up at him with doe eyes as your lips shine with a mixture of his precum and your saliva. You pump him faster wanting nothing more than to have him paint your face.

Mark bites his lip before pushing you back down on him. You bob your head up and down sloppily just like he liked it until he was releasing down your throat. “Shit,” he groaned, his voice trembling as he moaned your name. You pull away continuing to pump him and the last of his release lands on your face.

He released your hair, and you pulled away, making a show of licking your lips and swallowing. Mark’s eyes were dark with desire, and he reached down to pull you into a kiss. You moaned at the prospect of him tasting himself on your lips, but before the kiss could deepen, he turned off the game and powered down his computer. With a swift motion, he picked you up and threw you into his sheets, his body covering yours, prepared to return the favor.

When you get home, you decide to FaceTime Jisung. He picks up and props his phone up, grabbing a bowl of food. Dressed comfortably in a hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, he sits at his desk and slurps his dinner.

“What’s up?” he mumbles around a mouthful.

“You were the one who introduced Mark to Haechan!?” you exclaim.

“Yeah, he asked me to! We needed another teammate, so I told them about Mark. How was I supposed to know you were… together?”

“Together? Together in what way?” You roll over onto your stomach in bed, your expression turning serious. Did he mean together together or together together.

“He forgot to mute his mic, and I heard a little too much,” Jisung admits, his face turning red as he looks away from the camera.

You cringe at the thought of what Jisung could have heard. “Are you mad?” you ask, genuinely concerned, your voice softening as you try to gauge his reaction.

“Ew, no! You’re like my sister,” he replies, dismissively.

"I meant about me fucking your cousin, asshat. I said mad, not jealous, genius," you retorted, raising an eyebrow at the screen.

“Why would I be?” he says, taking another bite of his food.

“I don’t know, some people have those boundaries about their family. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t cross any lines,” you explain.

“It’s a little weird, yeah, but that’s probably because I had to listen to him moan in my ear,” Jisung says, shivering slightly at the memory.

“Sorry!” you reply, trying to stifle a laugh. If Jisung had heard that meant Haechan probably had too and you were a little happy to exact a little revenge on him even if you couldn’t see his reaction.

—

As you walk into Mark's house, you're greeted by the sight of Haechan already lounging on the couch, looking like he's made himself right at home. Your face falls, and you shoot Mark a disgruntled glare.

"Seriously?!" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down.

Mark looks apologetic, whispering back, "I'm sorry! He just showed up. I didn't want to be rude."

Haechan, sensing the tension, looks up from his phone with a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Hey there! Ready for some fun?"

You force a smile, trying to play it cool, and sit down next to him on the couch. "Can't wait."

Haechan leans back, still grinning, clearly enjoying the fact that he's inserted himself into your plans.

Mark tries to diffuse the situation, saying, "Yeah, we were just about to load up some Mario Kart, actually." He starts rummaging for extra controllers near the TV and turns it on.

“I'm down” You say. It did sound fun but you weren't over here for Mario you were here for Mark and you were trying to play with his other joystick. Mark plops down on the other side of Haechan and passes over the remotes. As the game starts, you quickly take the lead, using your knowledge of the shortcuts and boosts to secure first place. Mark is second, and Haechan is fourth.

As you speed ahead, Haechan tries to take you down with a banana peel, but you dodge it effortlessly. "Too slow," you tease.

The race is heating up, and the three of you are getting increasingly competitive. Mark’s laughter drowns out the sound of the game, and for a moment, you almost forget about Haechan's ever-looming presence. But as the race comes down to the wire, Haechan and Mark make a alliance against you.

“Just let her have it, Mark. I’ll take care of her next round!” Haechan goads.

“Hey! No teaming up!” you yell, half-amused.

Mark just shrugs, a grin plastered to his face as you get blasted with a blue shell that causes you to cross the finish line in second, Haechan gleefully taking first place.

“Cheater” you mumble under your breath.

As the night winds down, Mark puts on a movie and you go grab some blankets while Haechan makes popcorn.

“Wanna share a blanket” You say, trying to snuggle up close to Mark on the couch.

But before Mark can respond, Haechan is back with popcorn and plops down right between you again, acting like a natural cockblock. “Share some with me too.” He hands off the bowl to Mark and throws the cover over all three of you

For whatever reason, Haechan picked a three-hour-long movie, and you're bored out of your mind. You grab your phone and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

You [9:45] Come get your roommate hes being a nuisance

You text out an sos to Renjun.

RJ [10:20] Lol which one

You [10:21] The annoying one

RJ [10:23] Jaemin?

You [10:23] annoyingerrrrr

RJ [10:24] Haechan lmaooo What did he do

You [10:25] Cockblockingggggg hes everywhere he wont leave me alone

RJ [10:28] Just fuck him already

Before you can even think of a reply, the bathroom door creaks open, and you jump in surprise. Haechan pokes his head in.

"What the…?" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down. “What are you doing?”

Haechan shuts the door behind him and locks it, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You were taking too long to come back," he whispers.

"What about Mark?" you ask, trying to keep your cool.

“He fell asleep.”

You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "So?"

Haechan chuckles and takes a step closer, his face inches from yours. "So I'm bored and I knew you'd be in here, trying to escape."

You poke a finger into his chest, trying to assert your dominance. "You know what you're doing," you hissed.

Haechan's smirk only grows wider. "Oh? And what's that, princess?"

"You’re cockblocking. Stop getting in my way."

“Or what?” he teases.

Anger boils up in your chest, and you grab Haechan by the front of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're face-to-face, your grip unrelenting. The harsh words you intended to unleash fade away, caught in your throat. Instead, you slam your lips against his, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Haechan hisses in pain, but rather than pulling away, he leans into the kiss. He's been wanting this for too long, and now that it's finally happening, he's not about to let go.

He tries to push you up against the bathroom counter but with a swift move, you flip your positions around, pinning Haechan up against the counter instead.

Your eyes blaze with fury as you pull away from the kiss. "You think you're clever, stealing Mark away from me like that?" you hiss.

"Someones jealous," he says. His lip is slightly bleeding from the harsh bite, but he's not bothered, instead, he licks at it cockily.

Your anger only grows, and you reach forward, hands tangling in the back of his head, tugging hard enough to make Haechan whine. "You want me?" you say, your breath hot against his lips, your knee pressing up between his legs, making him shudder.

You've taken a few pages from Jaemin's playbook, it seems, learning how to put someone in their place, how to make them feel submission and powerlessness. And from the look on Haechan's face, it's working. He doesn't look so cocky anymore, instead, he looks…vulnerable. Helpless.

Haechan's head nods as best as he can in your grip, the defiance in his earlier demeanor fading.

"When have you ever been afraid to run that mouth?" you say. “Speak up.”

The way he’s pressed up against your knee, you can see a change in his gaze. He’s Hard against your thigh and his body is pressed impossibly close to yours, like you were his only lifeline.

"I want you. I need you so bad," he admits, his voice small.

You can't help but pat his cheek, a smirk forming on your lips. "Good boy."

He whines, reaching out to pull you close, eager to reconnect your lips, but you simply pull away entirely, enjoying the way he falls, eyes swirling with confusion and longing.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? Hands behind your back," you instruct. "You have to earn it if you want to touch me."

He complies without hesitation, his eyes innocent and docile, and something wicked stirs within you; you want to ruin him, to break him. You think you will.

Pressing yourself back against him, you slot your leg between his thighs again, "Go ahead, grind against me. Show me how pathetic you are, and maybe I’ll take pity on you."

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers gripping tightly against the cool marble counter of Mark's bathroom. "I’m sorry, I’ll be good."

“Don't make me tell you again.”

Haechan swallows hard, his breath hitching at your authority. You can see the conflict in his eyes—part of him wants to push back and be a brat, but the other part, the one craving you, is ready to surrender completely.

Haechan whines softly as he grinds against your thigh, his gaze locked onto yours. Your fingers grip the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He groans into your mouth, frustration evident as he aches to reach out and grab you, to pull you closer, but he holds himself back, wanting to please you, to be good for you.

As your hands sneak under his shirt, you feel the warmth of his skin. You rake your nails down his stomach, teasingly, before pinching his nipples. The sound that escapes him is a soft moan, and you swallow his noises pressing your lips together until they are sure to bruise.

Your hands continue their exploration, sliding down to the waistband of his sweats. You tug at the fabric, freeing him from its confines, your grip finding the base of him. You hold him firmly, feeling the way he twitches under your touch, and you look at him with a smile.

“Spit on it,” you instruct him sweetly.

Haechan gazes at you with a hazy expression and rosy cheeks as he collects his saliva in his mouth. The spit drips down onto the head of his cock, and he sighs at the way it trickles down. His breath hitches as you tighten your grip just slightly.

“You listen so well, why can't you be like this all the time?” you say in a whisper.

You stroke him slowly, ensuring to twist your wrist around the head as you move up. Your movements are deliberate, slow, and drawn out to drive him crazy.

His hips buck up into your grasp.. You make a ring around the head of his cock with your fist and watch as he fucks into it. His breath is choppy, and his noises are high-pitched as he throws his head back.

“You make me feel so fucking good, I can't take this,” he cries. “I need you.”

“Shut up before you wake up Mark,” you say cruelly. Your hand stops at the base of his cock and squeezes punishingly causing him to curse and shudder.

Your hand starts moving again, and you attach your lips to his neck, sucking a pretty bruise into the skin there. You nip at the skin meanly before pulling away. You release him and the noise he makes is devastating. You laugh in his face and mock him.

“Grip it, you think I'm going to do all the work for you?”

Both hands lift off the counter, but you stop him. “Keep one hand on the counter and don't move it.”

He follows your instructions, gripping himself firmly. He doesn't move, just looks at you waiting for your next command.

“Look at you catching on fast,” you commend him. “Show me how you like it.”

A broken whine leaves his lips as he starts fisting his cock in front of you. His cheeks are red, and he's clearly embarrassed, but he doesn't stop.

His pace is fast and rough, and he bites his lip to silence his moans. “Slow down,” you instruct.

He shakes his head stubbornly. “Can’t, so close.” He says, words coming out broken.

“You want to finish like that? Be my guest, but you’re not fucking me.”

He whines, but finally stops, his chest heaving as he fights back his orgasm.

“You’re hard headed, so don’t think you’ll be rewarded.” You lean over the counter, pulling your bottoms down but leaving your underwear on. “Fuck my thighs, that's all you get.”

Haechan is behind you in seconds, pushing into the tight space between your thighs. He leans over you, his hips slapping noisily against your ass as he chases his high. His fingers dip into your underwear, playing with your slickness before plunging deep inside you. His fingers match the rhythm of his thrusts, and he imagines it’s his cock filling you.

“Wanna fuck this pussy so bad. You’re so fucking selfish.” He moans in your ear, slowly transforming back into the brat you know and love.

“You’re always doing me dirty, but I still worship this pussy.” His free hand grips your hip, his fingernails biting into your skin. “I’d fill you up, stretch you out like you need, but you won’t let me.”

You moan at his words, grinding back against him as his fingers plunge deeper. “I should fucking break you. I’m too nice to you.”

You’re not sure when the tables turned, but you’re soaking his fingers. He curls his digits deep inside you, and suddenly you’re cumming. He pulls his fingers out and slides your panties to the side, lining up at your entrance. He splits you open and moans at how wet you feel. Wet squelching fills the bathroom as he begins to fuck you. You want to protest but he feels so good you can’t. You hadn’t felt him in so long you would be insane to stop him now.

He had needed this for so long but he's frustrated beyond belief because he's already so close. This was not how he’d envisioned having you after so long. But it was alright, there would always be a next time, and next time, you would be his good girl.

He grips your hair roughly pulling you back to meet his lips and after a few more deep thrusts he's cumming inside you, groaning in frustration. He pulls out, and your panties slip back into place, trapping his cum inside of you. You both clean up and fix your appearances. Honestly, you had forgotten whose house you were at, and you cringe at the thought of how loud you must have been.

You both try to make your way back to the living room as inconspicuous as possible. When you enter the room, Mark is sprawled out on the couch, deep in sleep. You sigh in relief; he’s always been a heavy sleeper, and you thank the lord for that.

“Wanna go fuck on his bed?” Haechan jokes.

You punch him in the shoulder. “Shut up”

—

Jeno had finally convinced you to come with him to the gym. The cold air nipped at your skin as you approached the entrance, and it was late, making you question how he managed to get you here. Maybe it was the fact that you had been missing him more than you cared to admit.

“One more rep, you got this!” he motivates from behind you, his chest pressed warmly against your back, closer than what was probably necessary. The 10-pound dumbbells in your hands were starting to feel like they weighed a ton, and you could feel the burn in your muscles as you struggled through the sets of butterflies. “Come on, don’t stop. Almost there!”

His hands ghost beneath your arms, providing just the right amount of support to help you finish your last rep. You exhale a heavy sigh when you’re finally done, sweat slick against your forehead and trickling down the sides of your face.

“Good girl,” he coos, a playful glint in his eye as he hands you your water bottle.

“I’m never coming back here,” you declare, plopping down on a nearby bench, your legs feeling like jelly. The gym had already long closed for the night, leaving the two of you alone. Jeno had started working part-time at the gym and had gained free access to the equipment during off hours. You spent the first hour there helping him tidy up, wiping down machines and stacking weights, before he finally dragged you onto the floor for a workout. Once he noticed how bad your form was, he stepped right in, transforming into your personal trainer.

“Don’t be like that, it’s not so bad! Besides, who else is going to keep me company?” he pouts cutely.

“I don’t know… how about you bring the other musclehead?” you say.

“It’s easier to work out when I’m looking at something pretty,” he replies.

“Since when isn’t Jaemin pretty?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” he counters, sitting down beside you on the bench. You can’t help but notice the way his broad shoulders fill out his tank top. He hands you his sports water bottle, and you shoot a mouthful of water down your throat.

“Have you had enough fun torturing me yet? Can we leave now?” You yawn, stretching your arms above your head and feeling the pleasant release in your muscles.

He takes the water bottle back and drinks from it before he stands to find his bag. “Yeah, want to shower first?”

You try to follow him into the men’s locker room but he stops you abruptly, a serious look crossing his face. You quirk an eyebrow, and he gives you a stern look in return. “Cameras, dummy,” he reminds you, then dramatically gestures toward the women’s bathroom, his playful tone returning. With a chuckle, you head in the opposite direction, hoping anyone monitoring the footage later would see you as merely lost.

After you freshen up, you meet him in the office, where he’s already sitting at his desk. “I just need to finish up a few more things, and then we can go,” he says.

You take a seat on the edge of the desk, watching him as he focuses intently on the screen. He logs something on the computer, brows furrowed as he concentrates on the screen in front of him. He looks so good, especially with his hair still slightly damp from the shower, beads of water clinging to the ends.

Reaching over, you grab the towel draped around his neck and gently use it to dry his hair a little further. When you pull away, he instinctively reaches out without looking and kisses the back of your hand in thanks, his lips brushing against your skin softly. The warmth of his gesture sends a flutter through you.

You need him bad.

Your eyes dart around the room, scanning every high corner and every hidden nook, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Hey, Jen, are there any cameras in here?” you ask.

“No,” he responds absentmindedly, his eyes glued to the computer screen, focused on the task at hand.

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“Anything you want, sweet girl, just shut the door,” he replies. You shut the office door, the soft click of the latch resonating in the otherwise quiet space, effectively sealing the two of you inside.

Jeno scoots back in his chair, giving you ample room to settle down on his lap. You straddle his waist, positioning yourself so that you’re facing him. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you can feel the warmth of his body radiating against yours as he resumes his work.

After a few moments, he hits the last key of the keyboard with a sound of finality, and then the soft whirring of the computer comes to a stop as he shuts it down. You pull back slightly to look at him

“I’m done, baby. You ready?” he asks

You shake your head no, your eyes glazing over and you lean in, closing the space between you, and press your lips against his in a kiss.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, caught off guard by the sudden shift. But then his body responds instinctively; his hands slide up your thighs to grip your waist, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepens as all the air in the room seems to disappear, his tongue brushing against yours in a slow waltz.

You break away from the kiss just enough to whisper, “There’s one more workout I want to try before we leave.”

Jeno snorts a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Corny,” he teases.

You give his shoulder a playful slap, pouting slightly. “Stop! I’m trying to be sexy!”

He just shakes his head at you in amusement before bringing your lips back together.He shifts in the chair, his hands guiding you to adjust your position. You can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your gym clothes, his body pressed against yours, hard and throbbing.

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he lifts you slightly, guiding you to grind against him. The friction is everything, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that makes you gasp into his mouth. He chuckles, the sound vibrates against your lips. “You like that?”

You nod, unable to form words as his hands move to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. His eyes rake over your body, and you feel a flush of heat as his gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your waist. “so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

Your hands fumble with the tie of his sweats, eager to feel him. He helps you, shoving his bottoms down just enough to free himself, and you can’t help but let out a small moan at the sight of him.

You shift back slightly, lining yourself up with him, and then you’re sinking down, taking him inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, it's a fullness that makes your head spin. You let out a shaky breath and your hands grip his shoulders for support as you adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Jeno groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he helps you move. You start slow, rocking against him, testing the rhythm, but it’s not enough. You need more.

You lift yourself up slightly before sinking back down, harder this time, and the moan that escapes Jeno’s lips is enough to spur you on. You set a steady pace, riding him with a growing urgency. He matches your fire as his hips snap up to meet you halfway. His hands roam over your body,the pads of his fingers touching and teasing to drive you wild.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in praise. “Just like that.”

His words fuel you, and you move faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands grip your hips, guiding you, helping you find the perfect angle. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, building and building until you’re teetering on the edge.

“Jeno,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you cling to him. “I’m so close.”

He tightens his grip on your hips, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. “Come for me sweetie, ” he growls, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you.”

His words push you over the edge, and you shatter, your body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. He follows you with a low groan, his hips jerking up as he spills himself inside you, his grip on you tightening as he rides out his own climax.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, the two of you clinging to each other as you come down from the high. Jeno’s hands move up your back, pulling you close, and you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling.

“I’m ready now,” you say with a breathy laugh.

As you drive back, Jeno’s hands are interlocked with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your palm lovingly. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, a soft smile on his lips as he hums along to the melody playing on the radio.

In moments like this, you feel a flicker of guilt. He’s so loving, so affectionate, and you absolutely cherish it, but a nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind. You know he likes you, and your heart aches every time you consider it because you’re not sure you’re ready for a relationship. The last thing you want to do is break his heart.

You can’t keep putting it off forever.

“Jeno, can I ask you a question?” you say.

He hums in response, granting you permission to go on, his attention still largely on the road.

“How do you feel about me?” you ask shakily.

A look of surprise crosses his face, and he stutters for a moment, clearly searching for the right words. Taking a deep breath, he finally says, “Honestly, at first, I had a crush on you. I kind of still do, but I know casual is your thing, and I don’t want to ruin what we have now,” he confesses.

“Jeno, I don’t want to hurt you, ever. If you want, we can stop. I don’t want to keep trampling on your heart like this.” You knew friends with benefits could become a dangerous game once feelings got involved. You wish you could return his feelings fully, envisioning a future together, but the timing isn’t right for you.

Jeno shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face as he squeezes your hand tighter. “No, really, it’s not like that. It’s not some undying love, and I’m not heartbroken that you don’t feel the same way. I’m a grown-up, I can handle it,” he laughs lightly, dispelling some of the heaviness in the air.

You sigh a little in relief and you can see in his eyes that he means it. You could kind of feel the shift as well. Before he was more like a love sick puppy but now he's more….content? Mature? It feels like you’re connecting on a different level, almost like best friends, similar to how you feel with Renjun.

Your heart blooms at the thought. Maybe when you’re ready, Jeno will be the first place you look.

—

Sunnyboy [9:00] jun forgot to pay for the wifi can i come over and use yours? library closed and have a paper due at 12

You read the message, a small smirk playing on your lips as you consider the true intention behind it. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine he’s just making up an excuse to end up at your place, but you can’t deny how much you enjoy his company. When he arrives, though, it becomes clear he wasn’t lying.

Haechan sits on your couch, furiously typing away at his laptop, his face stone serious as he races against the clock. Classic him—procrastinating until the last possible minute to whip up something to submit for an assignment he had weeks to complete.

You quietly make him some tea, settling down by the window with a book you had been eagerly waiting to dive into. The storm outside intensifies, rain pounding against the glass, setting the perfect atmosphere for a cozy read while Haechan works alongside you. After about an hour of reading the thunder was becoming too distracting, striking down hard and scaring you away from the window and onto the couch next to haechan.

“Scaredy cat,” Haechan teases without taking his eyes off the screen.

You roll your eyes playfully, closing your book and propping your head on his shoulder, stealing a moment to watch him focus. It’s five minutes to twelve, and he’s typing furiously, powering through the conclusion. Just as he finishes and hits the submit button, the storm roars louder, and suddenly the power cuts out, plunging the room into darkness.

“Shit!… YES!” he cries in triumph as he realizes the submission page went through just in time.

You laugh beside him. “Your luck scares me sometimes.”

He turns to you, a triumphant grin lighting up his face, and he leans over to kiss you in celebration. “Thank you so much. you’re a lifesaver,” he says.

“Anytime.”

Finally catching sight of the storm outside, his eyebrows shoot up. “Damn, when did it get that bad? I don’t think I can drive in that,” he worries.

“Did you think I was going to make you? You’re staying over.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Me and you all alone in the dark? Does that mean I finally got you all to myself?”

With a teasing smile, you stand up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom. “How will we possibly pass the time?” you ask, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

He closes his laptop, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable as he follows. “I have a couple ideas.”

Once you cross the threshold of your bedroom door you turn to face him, a playful grin dancing on your lips. With deliberate slowness, you begin to strip, giving him a show as you remove each piece of clothing, throwing them at him tauntingly.

“I’m sorry for making you wait so long,” you tease as you toss your shirt in his direction and he catches it before it can land on his head. His eyes roam up and down your body hungrily, and you could sense the dominant headspace he was slipping into. You realize it wouldn’t be like last time, you wouldn’t be in control.

“You will be,” he states firmly, gripping the fabric of his shirt and pulling it above his head as he strides towards you.

"I'm so scared," you taunt, letting out a soft, mocking laugh as you saunter backward towards the bed, your hips swaying with every step. You watch as his jaw tightens, his eyes darkening with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

“You’re really asking for it tonight, aren’t you?” He says finally standing in front of you.

You smirk, as your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Let’s see if you can keep that attitude.” In an instant he's pushing you down and climbing on top of you. His lips crash against yours and his tongue seeks entrance eagerly. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. But he swiftly grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other trails down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He spreads your legs open roughly, forcing his way between them and grinding his hips down sharply against you.

“Feel me, baby? That’s what you do to me,” he moans against your skin.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Please, I need you.”

“Begging already?” he teases, his fingers slipping between your bodies and dipping inside you. “I haven’t even started yet.”

He collects your juices on his fingers before he pulls them out, savoring the taste of you on his tongue when he licks them clean. “Sweet.” He groans before connecting your lips again. You chase the taste, but he pulls back, sitting up to strip off the rest of his clothes. Breathless, you watch as he reveals himself, his hard cock standing at attention.

He slips off the bed, positioning you how he wants. You find yourself lying on your back with your head hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“Tap if you need air,” is the only warning you get before he slips his cock past your lips.

One hand grips the back of your neck while the other trails down your body, teasing your nipples before he’s leaning down to kiss your navel.

You relax your throat, taking him deeper with every thrust. There’s little for you to do other than lay there and be his toy. His movements are gentle at first, but then he picks up the pace, thrusting harder as he watches the way he bulges in your throat.

Suddenly, he spreads your legs wide and delivers a stinging slap to your cunt, making you jump. He circles your clit expertly before opening you up again with his fingers. You moan around his cock, and he shivers at the vibrations the sound makes.

His pace quickens, thrusts becoming more forceful as he fucks your mouth. You choke, and he moans, pushing himself down your throat and holding himself there despite your struggles for breath. You hold on until tears prick your eyes and he finally pulls back to allow you to gasp for air.

“So good,” he whispers as you catch your breath, focusing now on fucking you with his fingers.

You clench around his fingers and he pulls out delivering a wet slap to the inside of your thigh. “Not yet”

Using the juices that coat his fingers, he strokes his cock, covering himself in you before he thrusts back down your throat. The wet, gargled sounds echo in the room, and his balls slap against your forehead as he pushes into your mouth.

With a light grip around your throat, he wanted to feel the way he moved inside of you, his thrusts quickening. You can sense he’s close, but after a few long, slow strokes, he pulls out, not wanting to finish yet. He helps you sit up, and you know your throat will be sore tomorrow.

You crawl further up the bed and get on your hands and knees, but as he joins you, he delivers a slap to your ass, shaking his head. “No, I want to see you. Turn over.”

You follow his command, spreading your legs wide for him, a desperate need coursing through you.

He lines himself up at your entrance, teasingly gliding his tip through your folds. “Tell me you want me,” he says, his free hand gripping your throat tightly.

“I want you so bad,” you say struggling to breathe.

He slips inside, just barely giving you the tip, teasing you as he pushes in and out. “Tell me you missed me.”

You nod pathetically. “I missed you, bear.”

A low moan escapes his lips at the nickname, and he responds by giving you another inch. “Now apologize to me.”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’ll think twice before I do it again,” you reply slyly.

He smiles. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I get it from you,” you tease, rolling your hips up daringly with a soft moan.

Without a word, he tightens his grip on your throat, thrusting into you hard. His hips slap against yours loudly, your back arching at the intensity. He doesn’t hold back or let you ease into it, he starts fucking you into the mattress.

“Not so funny now, is it?” he breathes, his movements relentless.

Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locked together to keep him close. “Fuck!” you moan, overwhelmed with pleasure.

He leans down, connecting his lips with yours, moaning into your mouth as he lets go of your throat. His hand moves down to grip your hips instead, leaning until your chests touch. Buried in your neck, his hands squeeze your ass cheeks as he lifts your hips to meet each of his powerful thrusts. He fills you completely, stretching you in all the ways you love, and the sounds he makes in your ear has you clenching tight around him.

Suddenly, he pulls out, manhandling you into a new position. He grips your ankles, yanking your legs from around his waist and pushing them above your head. Your hamstrings stretch to the limit, but he pins you down, making sure you take every bit of him. He pounds into you from above, and you claw at his skin, all you could think about was how he feels inside you.

“Look at you,” he says, his eyes locked on where he’s plunging deep inside you. “Spread open like this, pussy swallowing me so easily. We trained you well, huh? You’re a fucking pro.”

One of his hands releases your ankle, dropping down to rub your clit with urgency. His fingers move in a blur, pushing you to the edge as he strikes that perfect depth. You squirm in his grasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure building inside you. It’s almost too much, and every thrust makes it harder to hold on.

“Come on, baby, you know what I want. Don’t fight it,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your chest.

Your body tenses and you're practically showering him with how hard you squirt. Your walls force him out and he just sits back and watches you convulse and make a mess.

He smiles wickedly at you “look at the mess you made.” Your juices drip down his chest and stomach.

Your cheeks heat up, and you watch, frozen, as he takes in the sight of you. “Don't get shy now,” he teases, before plunging back into you.

You're drenched, so wet that he slips in and out of you with ease. He loses all sense of control, the grip of his hands is bruising as his hips grind down hard. His moans are loud and primal, and he gets rougher the closer he gets to the edge. He slaps your thigh harshly, trying to keep you still and open for him as you squirm, trying to close your legs from the overstimulation.

“I know you can take it big girl come on,” he coos.

“I can’t… it’s too much,” you plead.

He slaps your cheek, the shock of the pain sending a jolt through your body. Then, he grips your face, his eyes boring into yours as he chants, “Take it. Take it. Take it,” with each thrust.

“Yes! Haechan!” You moan.

He uses extra strength to keep your hips pinned down as he uses you. His eyes flutter and his brows furrow and he finally cums deep inside of you. “Fuuck” he moans drawn out. His hips continue to move, fucking you through his high. He didn't want to stop, his thrusts turning pathetic as he finally succumbs to his overstimulation and locks up, unable to move.

When he finally pulls away, everything is sticky and wet, and you're left lying, exhausted, on the bed. The wet sheets stick to your body as you peel yourself off.

“Ew, who made this mess?” Haechan teases, as he changes the sheets, and you throw a pillow at him, leaving to take a shower.

Once he's finished cleaning up, he joins you in the shower for round two.

—

Chenle had rented a cozy cabin for the weekend, and you and your friends sat in front of the fireplace, laughing and sharing stories as the night wore on. Some movie flickered on the screen behind you, mostly forgotten as you all munched on snacks, wrapped up in blankets scattered across the floor.

Jisung was the only one still watching the movie, completely engrossed given the fact he picked it. It was some old alien abduction movie that the internet told him had “real alien footage” in it.

Meanwhile, Yangyang was sprawled on the couch, completely passed out, a half-spilled bag of Cheeto puffs resting on his chest.

You, Mia, Yuna, and Chenle were deep into your usual gossip session.

“Guys, I can’t hear anything! It’s getting good!” Jisung complained, shooting you an exasperated look.

“That’s what captions are for!” Yuna shot back.

“Spoiler, the aliens are fake,” you added.

“Shut up bro. You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jisung hissed back in annoyance

“Can you all ignore him like I do and focus?” Chenle scolded, trying to redirect the conversation. “I’m trying to find out what happened next!”

The group pressed you for the juicy details of your sex life, eager to hear what had happened since you last caught them up. You had spent the day playing drinking games, chatting, and even sledding outside. But now, with the moon high in the sky, it was the perfect time for some dirty gossip.

“Basically, he had my legs up like this,” you said, using Mia as a demonstration dummy. Your friends were nosy, they wanted explicit details and you were more than happy to share with the table.

Mia started moaning dramatically, adding to the theatrics, and you playfully smacked her butt before pushing off.

“Omggggg, where do you find these guys?” Yuna squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.

Mia sits up and grabs her snack, throwing some trail mix in her mouth. “Literally, it’s not fair! You’re hogging all the good dick!”

“Sorry, guys, find your own.” you retorted.

“So, what are you going to do next?” Chenle asked, his tone turning more serious.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to gauge where he was going with this.

“In the long run—are you going to pick one or…?” he left the question hanging.

“Yeah, whoever you don’t pick, I call dibs,” Mia chimed in jokingly.

You felt a weight settle in your chest as reality hit you. You hadn’t truly confronted the question. The thought of the "what ifs" and "whens" sent a shiver of fear through you and whenever your mind would wander to those questions you ran away.

“I really don’t know,” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “I guess I’m just scared. I don’t think I can handle being thrown away again. I’m not ready to open my heart up yet,” you admitted quietly.

“That’s understandable,” Yuna replied gently. “But what about them? Are you sure they haven’t caught feelings?”

“I talked to Jeno about his feelings, and we came to an understanding,” you shared. “But for the others, as far as I know, it’s been strictly casual.”

“Just have five boyfriends,” Chenle suggested with a shrug. “That way, if one dumps you, you have a backup.”

“That’s the kind of greed they warn about in the Bible,” you laughed. “You know your ideas are always terrible, right?”

“I say don’t worry about it. Just have fun and enjoy yourself.” Mia advised with a wink.

“Be young and turnt!” Yuna added, throwing her hands up in a playful cheer.

You laugh and the talk lifts a weight off your shoulders. They were right. You should just enjoy what life threw your way and accept things for what they were.

“Glad we had this chat. Now can we watch the movie? The aliens are about to have an orgy!” Jisung exclaimed.

All heads whip towards the screen.

“Got your dumb ass now, watch the movie,” he scolded, a triumphant grin on his face.

—

Mark invited you over for game night with the guys, and you were a bundle of nerves. The last time all of you were together, things got a bit… wild. Mark had really bonded with the others outside of gaming, and they all hung out often now. You never knew who you'd run into when you arrived - sometimes it was Haechan, but other times you'd catch Jaemin just as he was slipping out the door, sending you a sly wink as he left. On occasion, you'd find Jeno sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in animal crossing on Mark's Switch while you and Mark would sneak off to his room for a quickie. Essentially, Mark’s house had become the new hangout spot.

When you got there, the kickback was already in full swing. The guys were all over the house. You could smell food, and you were already feeling better about being there. Jaemin and Jeno were locked in a Mario Kart battle, while Mark and Haechan were in the kitchen watching Renjun carefully arrange the food as they rambled about some MMORPG. Your stomach growled at the sight of the spread. Ducking past the TV, you slipped into the kitchen, offering greetings as you passed.

You walk up behind Renjun, swiping a nacho while he adjusts a bowl of salsa, tilting it ever so slightly for the perfect angle, everything had to be perfect for maximum snacking efficiency. It's the second time he's done so since you walked up. A furrow appears between his brows as he considers the placement. "I wasn't done yet," he grumbles, not looking up, his focus solely on the geometric harmony of the snack arrangement. You kiss his cheek with a laugh and turn to Mark and Haechan.

"What are you geeks talking about?" you tease.

"Don't listen to her babe, she just doesn't get us," Haechan jokingly reassures Mark.

Mark laughs, nudging him in the arm. "Dude, shut up."

Renjun straightens, pleased with his organization of the snacks. "We were waiting for you to get here so we could actually eat before the game," he says, gesturing towards Haechan. "He's been trying to sneak chips since we got here."

"Not sorry," Haechan shrugs, already reaching for the salsa.

"Okay, I'm starving," you say. Everyone piles into the kitchen, assembling their own plates before heading back out into the living room. Conversation flows easily as you all eat, enjoying the food Renjun brought for everyone.

Once the food is gone and the cleanup is finished, you collapse onto the couch. "So, what game are we thinking?" you ask innocently.

You hadn't yet realized you had walked into a wolf den.

"Well, before you got here, we were having a nice little chat with Mark," Jaemin says, his tone giving away exactly what that chat entailed. He's sitting to your left on the couch, too close for comfort. “We thought of the perfect game.”

"Oh," you laugh nervously. "…Really? And what's that?"

"Mark here thinks he's the best you've ever had, but clearly he hasn't met me," Haechan chimes in from his spot on the floor, leaning forward with a mischievous grin.

"This was their idea," Renjun says, gesturing to Haechan and Jaemin. He's standing near the TV, having just returned from throwing something away in the kitchen.

"Hear them out, though. It will be fun I promise," Jeno adds from beside Haechan.

Your head whips back and forth, searching for someone, anyone, who'll give you a straight answer. What the hell was going on.

"I thought I was special, baby. You should have told me you were fucking around," Mark says, his voice laced with a teasing possessiveness. "I don't mind, though, as long as they know I fuck you the best." He's on your right, effectively boxing you in.

Your face heats up instantly, and your eyes widen in disbelief.

"W-what are you guys talking about?" you stammer.

Finally, Renjun takes pity on you. "They want to see who can make you cum the fastest."

You knew nothing good would come of having them all together in one room. "And what does the winner get?" you ask, swallowing hard.

"The winner gets you all to themselves for a week," Haechan says, his smile predatory. Definitely his idea.

Jaemin pulls something from his pocket and hands it to you. "We're gonna roll this die, and that will decide how we try to make you cum" he says. It was a sexy die. Of course, Jaemin’s freaky ass had a sexy die. Written on its sides were “Fingers,” “Thigh,” “Dick,” “Dry Hump,” “Tongue,” and a Free Space.

"Some of these aren't very advantageous," you point out.

Mark shrugs, a confident smirk on his face. "That's the fun of it."

They were the players, and you were their board.

"You down? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course," Mark adds.

You take a deep breath. "I’m down." If you were honest with yourself, you were more than down. "How are we doing this?"

"You'll be the timekeeper to make sure it’s fair, and we'll start oldest to youngest," Renjun informs you, inching closer to the couch as the game is about to begin.

You nod, your heart racing as you contemplate what’s coming. You can already feel yourself growing wet despite them not having done anything yet.

"I’m first," Mark says, his voice a low rumble beside you. He pulls you to straddle him, his eyelids heavy as he takes in how pretty you look perched up on his lap. He leans back lazily on the couch and he reaches up to grab the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer for a kiss. His hands are busy stripping you while your lips move against each other. his touch drags teasingly over your body as he removes your clothes. His fingers brush against your nipples, making you gasp, and his hips grind into you from below as he helps you adjust your position after removing your panties.

"He's cheating lowkey," Renjun complains.

"Literally," Jaemin rolls his eyes.

“Yea! you're getting a head start, hands off.” Haechan chimes in.

“I'm just helping her undress to make it easier," he smirks, raising his hands in defeat.

He takes the die from your hands, his fingers lingering against your palm, sending a shiver down your spine. He tosses it onto the coffee table in front of you, the sound echoing in the suddenly quiet room. All eyes turn towards it, anticipation thick in the air, to see what it lands on.

THIGH

Mark groans at the fate that's been dealt to him, while the others snicker.

"That's what you get," Haechan teases.

Renjun quickly hands over his phone, the timer already pulled up.

"You ready?" you ask Mark, a sly smirk on your face, finding amusement in the choice he got.

His hands gripping your waist firmly as he positions you over his jean-clad thigh. His face showed nothing but determination. "I'm ready, baby."

You start the timer and Mark doesn't waste any time. His mouth descends upon your breasts, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin as he bounces you on his thigh, the friction creates a delicious sensation, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You're already wet, and the way he's handling you, dragging you over his thigh wasn’t helping the wet patch forming on his jeans. He slaps your ass before gripping it roughly, "just like that, baby, give it to me," he breathes against your skin, words muffled against the nipple in his mouth.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You love when he talks dirty, the sound of his voice doing something primal to you. You grind down roughly against his thigh, chasing your orgasm, wanting to be good for him. His hand finds your breast, joining the insistent tug of his lips as he expertly works you up. You tremble, a live wire under his ministrations. You were surprised at yourself. You didn't think you could come from a little thigh riding, but the rough pads of Mark's fingers, the way they pinch and tug at your nipples as you grind against him… it's only a matter of time now.

A hand reaches out for your face. You expect it to be Mark's, but his hands are fully occupied. It's Jaemin's face that greets you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pulls you into a searing kiss. Your surprise breaks way to pleasure as you let him take control.

His kiss melts you, and a whimper tumbles from your lips. You kiss him back feverishly and he matches your passion as his tongue slides into your mouth. Mark's hands tighten on your waist, his movements becoming rougher, pressing you down harder against his thigh. Mark's mouth, his hands, and his thigh, along with Jaemin's hot wet tongue, drives you over the edge.

You cum against Mark's thigh with a shuddering gasp, the phone almost slipping from your grasp before you realize you have to stop the timer.

8 minutes 19 seconds

Haechan groans dramatically when you show everyone the time. “You fucking helped him, dumbass! He could’ve gotten to 10 minutes,” Haechan complains, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

Jaemin shrugs, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips, "I don't care."

"I'm next," Renjun pipes up from his spot on the floor, a gleam in his eye. Despite the fact that there was plenty of room on the couch, Haechan, Renjun, and Jeno all sat crowded at your feet on the floor ensuring they had the best view of the show.

You climb off Mark's lap, and Renjun takes his place on the couch, settling in comfortably. "You're literally last, trade places with me," Haechan tells Jaemin.

Jaemin just rolls his eyes and scoots down on the couch, allowing Haechan to take his place and sit on the other side of you. Mark situates himself on the floor beside your leg.

Once everyone is settled and comfortable, Renjun rolls the die. Everyone holds their breath as it rolls to a stop.

DICK

"Fuck yes!" he shouts in triumph.

Everyone else groans in unison, but you can't help but smile. You didn't care who did it; you were just happy that you're finally getting filled up.

"It's rigged," Jeno huffs.

"Shut up, dog boy," Renjun smiles, unbuckling his pants.

Renjun pulls himself from his confines and strokes himself a few times before helping you over his lap. "Take all the time you need, baby, I don't mind," he winks.

He didn't care about winning, not when he still had his Tuesdays with you. Also why would he rush you, if you were riding his dick he was winning either way. He helps you sink down on his cock, and you start the timer, biting your lip at the stretch.

You could feel their eyes burning into you as you ride Renjun, other moans accompanying yours as you bounce on his hips. You look over and see Haechan already pulled himself free, stroking himself lazily while watching you intently. One of his hands reaches out to grab your wrist, resting your hand in his lap,and you grip him. Jeno is a little more conscious, only palming himself through his sweats, while Mark does the same. Jaemin sits beside Haechan, leaning back cockily, waiting for his turn.

You're so turned on it's driving you crazy; Renjun's hips kick up, fucking up into you roughly. "God damn," he moans, his eyes locked on yours.

You bounce on him with everything you have while trying to stimulate Haechan. Renjun feels amazing and with everyone watching, you feel twice as sensitive. You press your lips against his, and you kiss him desperately. "I'm close," you moan.

He grips your waist, stilling your movements, before grinding you down against him. He spreads his legs a little wider, then jackhammers up into you, jostling you around in his lap. You grip his phone with one hand and release Haechan from your other. All you could focus on at the moment was Renjun.

"Hold it, baby, there's no rush," he says, his voice a husky murmur against your skin. You throw your head back, and a loud moan escapes your throat.

You take it, savoring every second as he fucks you. You feel yourself tightening down around him, close to cumming, but he slows almost to a stop.

"Didn't think I'd ever say this, but hurry up!" Jeno groans, his impatience growing.

Renjun throws his head back, his hands gripping your waist tight as he guides you up and down his cock. He makes you ride him slow, enjoying every moment of being inside of you as he drags out his time.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans out. You could tell by the lazy look in his eyes he was enjoying this. He looked like he was floating on a cloud, high off the feeling he got when he was 6 inches deep in your warm cunt.

His hips pick up their pace, and you can tell he's close. He pulls you down into a kiss, smacking your ass as you ride him. You can feel your orgasm building back up quickly, and with one well-placed deep thrust, he's cumming deep inside you. You shiver as he fills you up and spill over the edge with him, clamping down hard as you cum together.

10 minutes 22 seconds

The others look at the two of you, unsure if they should be happy or mad that Renjun just lost, because from the blissed out look on his face did he really?

Renjun helps you off his lap and you sit down on the couch, your legs still gently shaking. You can feel your wetness dripping onto Mark’s couch, and you cringe a little at the thought.

Renjun stands up and zips his pants again while Jeno takes his spot. Die already in hand, he rolls it on the coffee table eagerly.

FREE

The gods must have been looking down on Jeno, because he rolled a free space, and he was about to use the hell out of it. Jeno was in it to win it.

His eyes lock onto Haechan and Jaemin. "Get off the couch," he commands.

Haechan groaned, his hand still wrapped around his hardness, but he obeyed, sliding off the couch with a reluctant sigh. Jaemin, however, didn’t move. Not an inch. Jeno’s glare sharpened, but Jaemin simply raised a cocky brow, his expression daring Jeno to make him. Jeno rolls his eyes but doesn't push any further. He had other priorities.

Jeno tugged his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. His muscles flexed as he tossed the fabric aside. “Lay down,” he ordered. You obeyed instantly and sank into the couch cushions.

Jaemin shifted slightly, settling your head into his lap with a handsome smile. His fingers brushed against your cheek as he caressed your face. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, he always looked good from above you.

Jeno noticed, his jaw tightened and a flicker of irritation crossing his features. Without a word, he shucked his pants down, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He freed himself, thick and heavy, and positioned himself between your legs. His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze back to him. “Pay attention, baby,” he reprimands you. “Start the timer.”

Your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the phone, your breath hitching as Jeno’s free hand caressed your thighs. The moment the timer started, Jeno didn’t waste a second. He throws one of your legs over his shoulders and bottoms out instantly. The sudden stretch made you gasp, your back arching slightly off the couch. Jeno’s thrusts were sharp, precise, and calculated, each one driving deeper, harder, you could feel him all the way to the tips of your toes.

You moaned embarrassingly loud, your free hand gripping the couch cushions for support. Jeno’s rhythm was relentless, his hips slamming into you with a rhythm that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by your desperate whimpers and the occasional grunt from Jeno.

From his new spot on the coffee table, Haechan moaned, “Shit,” his hand moving faster now as he watched you get fucked. His face was twisted in pleasure, his eyes locked on where Jeno was buried deep inside you. Mark had grown a little bolder. His hand now down his pants, his strokes slow but deliberate, his breaths quickening as he watched. Renjun, still sprawled on the floor, was too spent to join in, but his eyes watched as your chest bounced with each thrust.

Jaemin pets your hair as he looks down at you, stealing your attention away from Jeno again. “Look how well our pretty girl takes it.” He coos.

Jeno brows furrowed in frustration once he realizes you had taken your eyes off of him again. His hips grew rougher, his thrusts harder, until the springs of the couch groaned in protest. His hand moved to your clit, fingers pinching it meanly before rubbing soothing circles. Your eyes were on him again and he was going to keep it that way. He leans down, crashes his lips to yours and swallows your moans, keeping them all to himself.

The phone slipped from your grasp but you didn’t care. You couldn’t think about anything except the orgasm building in your lower belly. Jeno’s rhythm was unrelenting, each movement driving you closer to insanity. A particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot just right sends you over and you shattered.

Your thighs trembled as you came, your mouth wide open in a silent scream. The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Jeno didn’t stop. He kept fucking you, forcing both your thighs to your chest as he chased his own release. His breaths were ragged, his muscles taut as he pushed himself over the edge. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he filled you.

“7 Minutes 43 seconds” Jaemin calls out showing everyone the time posted. Somewhere in all the chaos he found Renjun's phone.

Jeno didn’t pull out immediately, his forehead pressed against yours as he caught his breath. “Good girl,” he murmured loud enough for only you to hear.

Jeno finally pulled out with a grumble, tucking himself back into his briefs. “Someone didn’t stop the clock in time,” he muttered, shooting a pointed look at Jaemin, who only shrugged. You were too spent to sit up, laying still on the couch as your chest rose and fell with your labored breaths. Jaemin leaned down, stroking your cheek gently. “Good?” he asked, voice tender as he checked in on you.

You nodded weakly, your mind hazy and body still buzzing. Haechan took Jeno’s place and rolled the dice.

MOUTH

The others laughed at his luck but he only smiled wickedly. A shiver ran down your spine. They didn’t know the things Haechan could do with his mouth when he wasn’t running it.

Jaemin handed you back the timer and Haechan laid down between your legs on the couch, his face inches away from your used cunt. He blew air on your core teasingly causing your breath to hitch, you were still so sensitive. Haechan chuckles darkly, eyes boring into yours. “You ready baby?”

“Yes,” you whispered, starting the timer.

Haechan isn’t shy and he's not afraid of being a messy eater. Combine that with his competitive nature and you're in for it. He shoved his tongue deep inside you, curling it upward and tasting you with a satisfied hum. He didn’t care that he was eating his roommate’s cum from your pussy—if anything, it seemed to spur him on. He slurped away at the mix of your fluids like a whore. He was so nasty, so unapologetically filthy, and it was turning you on more than you cared to admit. You were already close and you couldn’t help the way you rocked your hips shamelessly against his face, clit bumping up against his nose deliciously. It was becoming too much and your thighs clamp down instinctively, trying to escape the growing overstimulation.

His arms pryed your thighs apart and pinned you down quickly. “None of that.” he tsked.

His fingers replaced his tongue, sliding deep inside you as he sucked harshly against your clit. He flicked his tongue expertly, scissoring you open with his fingers. The look in his eye was deadly. You couldn’t stop your hand from tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you rode his fingers. Your hips trembled, your body tensing up as he devoured you.

“Fuck, Haechan, don’t stop—I’m so close,” you begged, your voice breaking.

His lips found your clit again, humming against it before pulling off with a loud pop. His fingers rubbed at your clit messily, gliding back and forward easily through your slick. His tongue dived back in to lick you clean. It was all that you needed. You came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure ripped through you. He didn’t stop, rubbing your clit through your orgasm as you came on his tongue. He didn’t stop until your hips thrashed wildly, your moans filling the room.

“Time,” he reminded you and you scrambled to cut the timer.

3 minutes 35 seconds

You dropped the phone with a huff, your body sinking into the cushions as you tried to catch your breath. Haechan sat up with a triumphant smile, face soaked and glistening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You waited for him to move, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down, his face inches from yours.

“I’m not done. Everyone else got to have their fun with you, baby. It’s my turn,” he said, voice dangerous.

He had been rock hard for a while and he slipped into you, not bothering to take off any of his clothes. His cock stretched you, filling you completely, and you gasped at the sensation. He buried his face into your breasts, licking and sucking at your nipples as he fucked you. His hips moved erratically, selfishly, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Haechan,” you gasped his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he buried himself into you again and again. He was so deep, so relentless, and you could feel him in your stomach with every thrust. He pulled out suddenly, stroking himself over your stomach. He had already been close due to him humping the cushions earlier. He wanted to make a mess of you. His cum splattered across your chest and stomach, hot and thick, and he groaned as he finished, his eyes locked on yours. It felt so disrespectful and degrading to do it but he loved it. You were his own little cum dumpster.

Haechan gave you a parting kiss when he finally moved off the couch. Before you could catch your breath Mark suddenly took his spot between your legs. You looked up at him in confusion, your mind still hazy from the intensity of Haechan’s attention.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I need you,” he moaned, sinking into you without hesitation.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you, his hips slamming into your brutally. He regretted going first so badly, it was torture watching everyone else have their way with you. He was so fucking horny, he felt like he was going to die. He lifted your hips up off the couch and the new position hit deep. Your toes curled from the pleasure and you screamed. He knew you were probably still sensitive from Haechan, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He couldn’t slow down, not when you felt this good.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, his voice strained as he drove into you harder, deeper. Your hands pushed at his waist, it was too good. He shook his head, his grip tightening as he forced you to meet his thrusts. “Be my good girl. Come on,” he grunted, his breathing ragged.

You shook your head, your body tensing as another orgasm ripped through you. He bit his lip, his hips stuttering as he came inside you. He dropped you back down on the couch like a rag doll, your body limp and spent.

Jaemin tapped your cheek, bringing your hazy vision back into focus. “Our princess is doing such a good job,” he praised you, his voice soft and sweet. “I’m so proud of you.”

You gave him a dopey smile, your mind foggy and body completely wrecked. You were out of it—fucked stupid by this point.

“Can our big girl take one more for me?” he asked, his touch caressing your shoulder soothingly.

You pouted, your bottom lip trembling. You were so tired, but you didn’t want to let him down.

“Come on, princess. You can take one more. I know you can,” he coaxed, his voice gentle but firm.

You gave him a nod, and he smiled, his pearly white teeth gleaming. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed.

He sat you up, taking the die that Haechan handed him and rolling…

FREE

Maybe the dice really was rigged

Jaemin looks over at you with a questioning gaze. "You sure you're up for it?" he asks again.

"Yes, sir," you reply, already slipping into your role.

He gives you a wicked grin. "In that case, stand up for me, pretty girl," he says, helping you to your feet.

You stand on shaky legs, and he grabs Renjun’s phone, still pulled up on the timer. "Don't drop it this time, princess," he warns, handing you the device, his eyes glinting with amusement.

He bends down, his hands cupping the back of your knees, signaling for you to jump. He lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. The others look at the both of you curiously as Jaemin walks you over to the nearest wall and pins you up against it. He shoves his sweats and briefs down his thighs before lining himself up at your entrance.

“Start the time,” he said and once he hears the chime of the phone indicating that the time has started he slams into you.

You’re suspended in mid air pinned up against the wall, he uses you like you were nothing more than a sex doll. You were unable to move, your mouth made an o shape when you moaned and you stayed spread wide open for him. Maybe you were a sex doll.

You can feel the tears that stream down your face in overstimulation as he pounds into you. His lips steal your breath as he kisses you and his arms bulge as he keeps you lifted and steady for him.

"Touch yourself, princess," he instructs you, his voice muffled against your lips. Your free hand comes up, and shakily starts circling your clit. You moan, throwing your head back against the wall and your fingers falter, causing Jaemin to scold you, "Nuh-uh, baby, stay with me."

His hips don't slow, and he's fucking you so hard that the picture frames on the wall start to shake and threaten to fall. Jaemin's hips pick up an impossible pace, and you can feel yourself growing close to the edge. Your fingers play with yourself faster, trying to reach the climax.

“Thats right baby, almost there i can feel it” he moans “dirty pussy gripping me so fucking tight”

You moan at his words, and cum against him, pleasure washing over you. You stop the timer immediately, finally allowed to drop it from your grasp. You hear it clatter against the floor, followed by curses from Renjun. You slump against the wall behind you, and Jaemin helps you to your feet.

Jaemin picks you up and carries you back to the couch, and you all but welcome the soft cushions that support your body. You are dead tired. Renjun collects his forgotten phone and looks at the time stamped on the screen before showing it to the others. "4 minutes 19 seconds," he announces.

As you catch your breath, Haechan lets out a joyful whoop, while Jeno and Mark groan in response. Jaemin tends to you on the couch, checking in on you with a concerned expression. Mark gets up, announcing that he's going to run a bath for you, and the others begin to dress themselves or adjust their clothing. Jaemin helps you to the bathroom, where he and Mark carefully help you wash up, the warmth of the water soothing your tired muscles. The sounds of the others cleaning the living room filter through the closed door.

Later, you lay in Mark's bed, feeling exhausted but content. The others shuffle into the room, Renjun speaks first, "We're going to head back now, if that's okay. Do you need anything?" You shake your head sleepily and get cozy under the sheets.

“Rest up, ok?” Jaemin leans down to kiss your forehead before following Jeno and Renjun out of the room after they say their own goodbyes. Haechan lingers, a mischievous glint in his eye, and says to Mark, "Enjoy your time with her while you can, because starting tomorrow, she's all mine." He winks before leaving the room.

Mark jokingly rolls his eyes and gets up to lock the front door behind the others. When he returns to the room, he crawls under the sheets next to you and pulls you tight against his chest.

"Mark, I'm sorry," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I should have told you that I had something going on with the others."

Mark shrugs, his expression relaxed. "I was a little shocked when they told me, honestly. You just look so… innocent." He chuckles.

"Do you see me differently now?" you ask, a frown growing on your face.

Mark kisses your frown away, his lips gentle. "You're still my baby girl. I don't care what you do, nothing will ever change that."

He showers your face with kisses, making you giggle, and you playfully push him away. Then, you climb on top of him, straddling his hips.

"You're not tired?" he asks in amusement. You grin, feeling a surge of confidence. "I've got pretty good stamina," you say, leaning down to kiss him. "Plus, it’s like Haechan said, tomorrow I'm his, but tonight…" You trail off, your lips brushing against Mark's skin as you snake down his body.

Mark's eyes darken, and he whispered, "You're mine."

A/N: THE ENDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe ill do the HC spin off maybe i wont, you'll just have to see. Lets see how well this does and ill think about it.

a/n: all choices during the dice game were randomly selected except haechan, he originally got thigh but mouth was literally made for him so I changed it

[peasant-player]

Maedhros again :D

Maedhros in @papita474 style ~

Of course I needed to draw maedhros too since I already drew Fingon here !

His design is very uhm scarred up but still has a baby face so I tried to copy that!

I kept his clothing simple and used one of my favorite designs papita made its from this one here !

He is less spicy then Fingon but I make that up with my Christmas special ~ ❤️

Here is a close up of his baby face :3

[quicksilversquared]

Love that my university requires that we register for "thesis credits" during our second year- credits that are pretty much going "we acknowledge that you are doing work on a project right now and that takes time" and don't require faculty resources anywhere close to the extent that classes do- and then charges us for them with all of the freaking "fees" that are apparently calculated per credit.

Like, fine, I can understand the fees for regular classes (though it's still stupid as fuck that we have to pay an 'athletics' fee- like, I could not give less of a fuck about student athletes, and if the athletics program isn't self-sufficient with costs/ticket sales, that's a them problem), but tacking on more fees for credits that aren't even associated with a class? For research that I'm doing mostly on my own? Freaking highway robbery, that is.

[inkskinned]

no, actually, where is the whimsy?

my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?

we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.

earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.

i stared at my ex. he stared at me.

his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!

it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.

and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.

my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.

which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.

but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.

the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.

so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.

and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.

where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.

it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.

this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.

[cosmicdahlias]

I Like Hearing You Talk

Logan Howlett x Reader

MINORS DNI

You’ve pined for Logan since the day he came into your life. He makes you so flustered you can barely speak around him. After Wade interrupts your drunken moment together, you’re left feeling incredibly pent up and in desperate need of release.

tags: caught mid-masturbation, oral, face sitting, multiple orgasms, p in v, big dick hurts, rough sex, choking, creampie

y’all i got nothing to say this time, i’m just down bad for logan 😭

Living with Logan Howlett had proved to be… frustrating. For most this would be due to his incredibly abrasive personality, however for you it was for an entirely different reason.

You found him PAINFULLY attractive. He was rough around the edges, blunt, quick tempered, and would maul anyone with his foot long claws if they dared look at him wrong. All of these things should have scared you off, but it only made him more alluring.

Ever since your other roommate, Wade, had introduced him to you, it had been so hard to not feel that primal need deep within your core. You struggled to even form sentences when he talked to you. He didn’t just give you butterflies, he gave you the whole damn garden. So when he invited you to sit on the couch with him and share a few drinks you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust.

An hour had passed and even though the help of a little liquid courage made it significantly easier to talk to him, you were still very much flustered. You had been telling the story of how you and Wade met back in the days when he was still a merc-for-hire.

“But yeah, essentially I hired him to rough up my abuser, make him finally pay for all the shit he did to me.”

“What’d he do to the fucker?”

“Honestly what DIDN’T he do? He beat him so bad that from what I heard he could barely even crawl. Wade gave me one of his teeth, said it was ‘a souvenir of a job well done’.”

“Well was it? A job well done?”

“I mean he never bothered me again.”

“Good, but if he ever does decide to be enough of a dumbass to come near you just let me know and I’ll take care of it. Can’t guarantee he’ll still be breathing after I’m done with him though.”

“That might be going too easy on him.” You joked.

Logan chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

“You know it’s funny, this is the most I’ve ever heard you speak.” He said.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I like hearing you talk.”

“Y- you do?” You stammered, your cheeks turning a dusty pink.

Logan tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I really do.”

You felt your heart thump rapidly in your chest. Everything within you was screaming for you to kiss him, but your whole body felt like concrete, immobile. Logan took your cheek in his hand, coming in so close that his lips almost brushed against yours.

“Do I have to make the first move, babygi-“

Wade burst into the room and the two of you jumped back from each other.

“GUYS! YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE WHO JUST GOT FRONT ROW TICKETS TO MADONNA! I MIGHT’VE HAD TO SELL A KIDNEY, BUT THIS HANDSOME MOTHERFUCKER REGENERATES SO I BASICALLY GOT THEM FOR FREE!” He shouted, sitting next to you on the couch.

The rest of the night was spent with Wade completely, and unknowingly, third wheeling you two and killing all possible sexual tension.

The next day your mind ruminated heavily on the night before, you had been so close to finally having his lips on yours. You played out in your head how differently things could’ve gone had Wade not interrupted. Images of Logan taking you, claiming you from every position consumed your thoughts. By the time you came home from work the overwhelming need to touch yourself was too much to ignore.

You quickly said “hi” to Logan and stole yourself to your room, undressing and lying back on the bed. You wasted no time letting your fingers move straight to your clit, your other hand caressing one of your breasts.

You closed your eyes and moaned softly, imagining Logan’s strong hands in place of yours. You allowed your mind to echo his voice uttering words of praise, telling you all the things you desperately wanted to hear from him.

“Mmmnn, Logan.” You whimpered as you felt yourself grow close.

At that very same moment your door swung open.

“Hey, you alright? I thought I heard- oh shit.” Logan said.

You jumped nearly a foot out of your skin and your eyes snapped open to the sight of him in the doorway. You quickly pulled the covers over yourself.

“FUCK! WAIT! I WASN’T- I- hold on, could you hear me?”

“Did you forget how thin the walls are?”

“Motherfucker.” You groaned.

Logan closed the door behind him and walked over to stand at your bedside.

“Now, my turn to ask a question with an obvious answer. Who were you thinking about?” He asked.

You felt your heart do a somersault.

“You really want me to say it?”

He cupped your chin, stroking your lips with his thumb.

“Yeah, I do.” He said softly, pulling down the covers to reveal your body.

His eyes looked you up and down with the intensity and hunger of a wild animal.

“You, Logan.” You said softly.

“Yeah? Then is this little pussy all wet because of me?” He asked, slipping a hand between your legs.

You nodded.

“Thought so.”

He dragged the pads of his fingertips along your wetness.

“Now, why don’t you finish giving me that little show I walked in on?” Logan instructed, leaning down to kiss you passionately.

You turned deep scarlet.

“Logan, I-“

“C’mon babygirl, you were so close.” He coaxed, taking your hand and guiding it down. “Are you gonna be good girl and cum for me?”

You drew circles against your clit and with a shudder felt the pleasure return to you. Logan watched you intently.

“Fuck, I can’t hold myself back, not with you looking like this. I need your mouth around my cock.”

Logan unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his intimidatingly massive cock. Your jaw dropped at the sheer size of him.

“Holy shit, Logan.”

“You good?”

“Yeah, my jaw might not be.”

Logan turned your head to face his throbbing cock.

“It’s alright, only take what you can handle.”

You went to take him past your lips when he stopped you.

“Wait, one second.”

He reached over you, turning your stuffed animal on the bed to face the wall.

“Logan Howlett, what a gentleman.” You laughed.

“Hey, I’m just protecting their innocence. Now c’mon, keep touching yourself and open that pretty little mouth for me.” He said.

Logan guided himself into your mouth and you took him down to the base of his shaft.

“Fuuuuck babygirl, no one’s ever gone all the way down before.” He groaned, tangling his fingers in your hair.

He bucked his hips against your face as you stroked your clit.

“How the fuck are you not choking on me? You ever sucked cock this big before?”

You shook your head with him still in your mouth, Logan chuckled.

“No? Guess you just got lucky to not have a gag reflex. God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

You whimpered around him at his words, growing close.

“That’s it, keep going for me babygirl, yeah, yeah like that. Make yourself cum with my cock in your mouth.” He said as he throbbed against your tongue.

Your back arched off of the mattress as you felt yourself tip over the edge. Your moans were muffled by Logan’s cock buried deep in your throat.

“Jesus, you moaning like that feels too goddam good.” He grunted, giving one last thrust into your mouth before pulling out.

He watched as your orgasm subsided, the heaving of your chest slowly steadying. He lowered his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers inside you and curling them against just the right spot to make you writhe underneath him. He pulled out his fingers, taking them in his mouth and giving a growl.

“I can’t fuckin’ resist, I need you to sit on my face. Just tasting you isn’t enough.”

He moved onto the bed and picked you up, lowering you to straddle his face. His hot breath lingered on you for a second before his mouth made contact with your clit. Having cum already, it wouldn’t take long for him to get you there again. You laced your fingers in his dark hair.

“Oh god, Logan.” You whined as you felt your orgasm build.

“Mmm, fuck.” He growled against your clit.

The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through you, making you gasp as you came again for a second time. Your grip on his hair tightened as every single wave of pleasure rippled through you, rolling your hips involuntarily on his face.

You panted breathlessly, the only words coming out of your mouth being “Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmy-“

Logan took your hand in his.

“Hey, hey, easy babygirl. Breathe.”

He picked you up off of his face, lying you down on the bed. He shrugged off his flannel, pulling his white shirt from over his head and slipping his jeans off his legs. He returned his attention to you, lifting up your lower half by your thighs and slipping a pillow under your ass.

“What’s that for?” You asked.

“Makes me able to go even deeper and hit all the right spots. Trust me, I’ve been around for over two centuries which is more than enough time to figure out what feels good.”

“You know, I’ve always had a thing for older men, but you might be pushing it for me, Logan.”

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

“But there isn’t a gray hair on me, is there?”

“Yeah, and it’s honestly a shame you don’t age like the rest of us. You’d be damn good looking with some salt and pepper hair.”

“I think Wade said there’s a variant of me like that.”

“Well shit, I got the inferior model?” You teased.

“Watch it babygirl, or I might just have to fuck you hard enough to shut you up.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Only if you want it to be.” He said with a smirk.

Logan sat on his knees and pulled you by your hips to him, your legs against his chest. He pressed the head of his cock against the entrance of your pussy.

“I’ll start slow so it’ll be easier for you take me. Just tell me to stop if it’s too much. Alright?”

“Okay.” You said softly.

“Attagirl.”

He gingerly slid his way in. Despite his attempts to be gentle you still struggled to accommodate him. You winced and drew a sharp breath.

“Shhh, easy babygirl. You’re doing so well for me, but you need to relax if you want this to feel good.”

It was beyond attractive to see this side of him, so soft and affectionate. You knew only certain people had been privy to this. He buried himself to the hilt, pausing to let you adjust.

“I’m gonna start moving. Think you can handle it?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah.”

“Good girl.”

Logan began to thrust at a gentle pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned.

Even though he was going slow it felt like he was ripping you in half, but it felt good, incredibly good. You wanted more, you needed to see how that raw, aggressive nature played out in the bedroom.

“Harder.” You whined.

Logan’s brow furrowed.

“Babygirl, you’re already struggling to take me as it is.”

“I know, but I want you to tear me apart. Fuck me like an animal, Logan.”

You felt him throb inside you.

“Fuck, why didn’t you let me walk in on you sooner?”

Logan increased his pace dramatically, fucking you with an animalistic intensity. By god did it hurt and you loved every second of it. Noises, a mix of pleasure and pain, escaped from your mouth. He cocked a brow at your yelps and whines.

“You doing alright there?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah, h- hurts so good.”

“Goddam babygirl, you really do like it rough, huh? You’re gripping me like crazy. Here, I think this’ll help you relax a little.”

His hand moved to stroke your clit, drawing circles against the delicate, sensitive skin. You bucked your hips, taking his cock further inside you.

“Goddam, look at you, fuckin’ yourself back against me. Tell me how much you love this cock splitting you in half.”

He fucked you even faster, purposefully trying to make it harder for you to speak. All you could manage was a whimper.

“C’mon babygirl, you know I like hearing you talk.” He teased, slowing his pace slightly to let you answer.

“Y- you fe-el i- incredible, b- biggest I’ve e- ever h- had.”

“That’s my girl, so good for me.” He said, resuming his brutal rhythm.

You moaned at Logan’s praise and he felt you tighten around him.

“Oh you like that don’t you? You wanna be my good girl?” He smirked, knowing he’d found your weakness.

“P- please.” You murmured.

“Good, because you’re fuckin’ mine now.”

The sound of Logan’s hips meeting yours reverberated throughout the room. He grunted at every thrust, sliding his cock out until only the tip remained inside and then sharply forcing himself back in again, making you take every single inch. His nails on the hand that wasn’t on your clit dug into your calf.

“Choke me.” You begged.

He let out a deep chuckle.

“Damn babygirl, aren’t you just a little masochist? How could I say no when you’ve been such a good girl for me?”

With one hand still on your clit, Logan wrapped his other around your throat, squeezing it tight. You let out a strained moan.

“Yeah, makes things feel even better, doesn’t it?” He purred.

Between the feeling of Logan’s hand gripping your neck, his fingers stroking your clit, and being fucked hard and fast by a cock thicker than a beer bottle, you felt your orgasm begin to build. Logan was right on the edge as well.

“Fuck, I’m so close. You gonna cum too, babygirl?” He asked, releasing your throat.

“Y- yeah, I’m- oh g- god.” You whined.

“Good girl, cum with me.”

His words were all it took. Your breathing becoming shallow and fast as you felt yourself come undone, pulsing around him. Logan groaned, burying himself deep within you, his hot, thick cum coating your insides.

“Jesus fuuuuuckin’ Christ, you feel so perfect.” He panted as he gave his last few thrusts.

You whimpered as Logan slowly pulled out and laid beside you, pulling you to him with your head against his chest. You both lay in silence for a moment, him stroking your back before finally speaking.

“You know, when I offered to have drinks with you last night I thought you’d take the hint. I was really banking on you at least kissing me, before Wade killed the mood and all.”

“I wanted to, I just…” You trailed off.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Just what?”

You fidgeted with the hair on his chest.

“I dunno, I just feel like you’re way out of my league. You’re incredibly handsome and I’m… me.”

He gave a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the stupidest goddam thing I’ve ever heard, and that says a lot because we live with Wade. Babygirl, do you not see how fuckin’ gorgeous you are?”

You felt your cheeks turn pink.

“You think so?”

He kissed the top of your head.

“Of course I do, been dreaming of this since I met you. Not gonna lie, wanting you as badly as I did when you were too nervous to even talk to me was kinda torture. There was a few times you almost walked in on me the same way I did with you.”

“O- oh.”

“Yeah, it’s uh… it’s been a while since someone’s made me feel like this. When you live in a world where everyone hates you there isn’t much opportunity for even just casual fucking.”

You looked up at him.

“Sounds lonely.” You said softly.

Logan kissed your forehead.

“Doesn’t matter now that you’re finally talking to me.”

“If you’re referring to what we just did, you’ve got a weird idea of what talking is.”

“Yeah? Then how about we continue our conversation?” He said, turning you over onto your back and kissing his way down your body.

“Very smooth, Logan.”

[rxzilvia]

Don't cry

Warnings: fingering, suggestive, eventual smut.. in the middle of it, gentle fingering, and that's all, if I missed any don't hesitate to tell me <3

Word count: 1k, honestly ended up shorter then expected, enjoy <3

As you were kneeling on your shared bed, crying and venting to Riki about your day, how much you missed him and needed him, and apologizing for humping his pillow while he just sat cross legged next to you caressing your back and silently easing your worries

He moved closer to you, his soft hands holding your face, gently caressing your skin, trying to soothe you and calm you down

"Shhh, shh.. It's ok, baby, there's nothing you need to worry about.. you want me to finger you?"

At those words you looked up at him.. suprised to say the least- you gently bit your lip before nodding, you needed him and he was clearly happy to get your mind of off things..

"Mhm.."

He hummed in response, his hands on your face still, feeling his heart aching slightly at how submissive and cute you looked. He looked into your eyes, speaking with a soft yet low voice

"Baby.."

Before he did anything else you spoke up, stopping him for a second

"I've only ever.. rubbed myself.."

His eyes widened slightly at your words, his hand caressing your hair as he spoke

"Mmm... So this is the first?"

You nodded, taking a barely audible deep breath as his hand still held onto yours

He nodded as well, his expression still soft as he spoke again

"mm.. okay baby, we'll work you open.. mkay?"

He had nodded as well, his hands leaving your face as he shifted on the bed, sitting behind you as he gently pulled you against him, your body pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands caressing your stomach softly as he planted a few loving kisses on the nape of your neck

He spoke again, his breath grazing your skin as he spoke, his hands caressing the soft skin of your stomach, his eyes still looking at you

"Scoot back a little, sweetheart.. I need to be able to reach, mkay?"

You obeyed, doing as he said so, scooting back and relaxing yourself against his chest

He watched you shift back a bit, his own body shifting to keep you in a position where you were leaning on him, pressed against his chest, his legs on each side of you as he spoke again

"Good girl.. such a good girl"

He spoke, his lips on your neck as his hands moved, slowly trailing down your stomach from your stomach to your inner thighs, his lips still planted on your neck as his hands started moving higher on your inner thighs, his eyes still on you

His kisses moving up your neck to your jawline, his hands slowly massaging your inner thighs, his eyes still on you, admiring how adorable you looked in his hoodie, especially as he felt the smooth material on your skin against his palms

Little by little he slowly got to your pussy. He felt heat spread through his body, his breath getting a little heavier as he felt how soft and delicate you were.. how wet you were, his eyes on yours, watching how you reacted to his touch

"Baby.."

He spoke again, his voice a bit more low as he said that, his breath still on your neck and his soft and plump lips on your jawline as he slowly ran a finger over your clothed slit, feeling how your body relaxed into his as he tried to hold in a moan of his own at the feel of how soft and delicate you were. His lips still planted on your neck, gently kissing the skin as his finger kept rubbing over your panties, feeling how wet you were

His breathing getting a bit heavier, his eyes still on you, his arms still wrapped around your waist, holding you tight against him, his lips still on your neck, his fingers gently pressing against you, feeling how you were already so sensitive and wet, you couldn't help but twitch a bit at that, your clit pulsing

He felt you twitch against his finger, his own breathing becoming a bit heavier as he felt you, his own body starting to react, his lips still on your neck but pulling away for a bit before speaking once more

"Baby.."

And that.. made you twitch again.. he felt how you twitched again against his finger at the sound of his raspy deep voice, biting his lip in the process as he spoke again

"Ah.. I love your little reactions, baby"

He gently circled your pussy before pushing a finger in, he heard you let out a soft moan, a shiver going through his spine and down to his dick, his own breathing getting heavier as he felt your soft gummy walls squeeze his finger so tight

His other hand gripped your hip a bit, holding you close and trying to contain himself from making any sounds at the feel of your walls against his finger, his lips slowly moving back to your neck pressing sloppy kisses on your skin

"Mm.. a-am i.. d-doing g-.. ahh.."

You couldn't form a sentence as you moaned again while he moved his long slender fingers inside of u

He spoke against your neck, his breath grazing your skin as he spoke into your ear again, his hand slowly moving a bit inside you

"Doing what, baby?"

You took a deep breath before stuttering out

"G-good?.."

The slight stutter in your voice made his stomach twist in the best way, his finger moving slightly inside you as he spoke, his voice lower than before, his breath still hot against your skin

"Mmm.. very good.."

He knew damn well you liked praises, and it was his kink too.. your reactions and behavior always giving it away, so he knew it was working as he heard you respond so well to it

"Doing so well for me, sweetheart..."

You gulped again, gently throwing your head back as you put it on his shoulder and he kisses you forever before putting his head on yours, continuing his ministration on your cunt

"Mm.. a-another o-one.."

His heart thudded, aching in an almost painful way at the way you asked, and he couldn't deny you, so he nodded

"Mmhmm... Another one.. okay sweetheart.."

He said, his hand moving again, and he slowly pushed another finger inside you, his breath heavier than before as he spoke again, his lips still on your neck

"Shhh... You're doing so well, baby.."

He sped up his movements a bit as he felt you clenching around his fingers harder, assuming you were close, he moved his other hand to rub your clit, giving you extra stimulation

Before you knew it you were cumming all over his beautiful long.. slender fingers, he smiled at that and rode you out through your orgasm before looking down at you on his shoulder. He planted a soft kiss to your forehead before removing his fingers and licking them clean, keeping eye contact

"Mm.. i-if your fingers were that long just how long is your dick.."

You said with a sigh, clearn tired asf meanwhile he just smirked

"how bout you find out.."

[girlygguk]

CRAZY | JJK (Part 2)

summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

word count 13.2k

chapter content [read part one for full character & story warnings pls.] jk & oc first encounter, jungkook lowkey goes a bit yandere in one two of the scenes 😭, jk punches another guy, love at first fuck lets b real, mention of oc's superior abusing their power (not jk), hyungwon appearance 🙄, heejin appearance 🙄, hobi appearance 🎉, bff jiminie appearance 🎉, time skips, jealous mcs, heated argument, jk lies but like... for the greater good? god idk

warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system and degradation consent, doggy, dirty talk, protected p in v sex, praise kink, um slight exhibition kink, rough sex, squirting...(on their first fucking encounter yeeeppp help me god)

a/n this is only 75% edited bc i honestly wasn't going to post it for a whilee as i'm working on some other things atm but i felt bad just watching her sit in my drafts all sad n semi finished 😢 alsoo if a bit of the smut dialogue looks a lil familiar... cough salsa.. its bc i was gonna completelyy change up the sexy scene 🥺 and so i used the smut as inspo for the salsa drabble so it didnt go to waste... bye im such a clown. okay thank u, enjoy, and pls lemme know what u think <3 mwah

crazy pt 1 | masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

801 DAYS AGO

Your twelve-month contract as a temp Administrative Assistant at Jeon Corp was creeping to an end, and it was safe to say that you were fucking pissed.

You had put everything into this place—countless overtime shifts, moved into an overpriced house in the city near the firm so you were never late. You eat, sleep and breathe this fucking company. And what did you get for it? An almost certain rejection, apparently.

You were more than sure they'd offer you a permanent position. Your stats spoke for themselves. They were flawless. You’d single-handedly cleaned up the absolute fucking disaster left behind by the previous administrative assistant who bailed after Jeon Jun-seo’s passing—and that was not light work.

And by "bailed," you meant that they were part of the bloodbath that ensued when Jungkook took over and wiped out almost half the staff for incompetence.

The staff who remained still grumbled about it—loyalists, maybe, or just people too comfortable with the way things used to be. They hated him for it. He was ruthless, sure, but effective. Jeon Corp wasn't just successful; it was dominating. They went from merely hitting targets to blowing right past them. And that shift started with him.

Jungkook was good. Really fucking good.

He was young, driven, passionate, and not to mention—a sight for sore eyes. Even as someone who didn't like to openly praise men, you couldn't help but be impressed.

Still, you knew your fate wasn't in his hands directly. He wasn't going to be the one deciding whether your temp position would become permanent. He was the CEO—too high up to care about such things. And besides, you'd never even spoken to the guy. You spent most of your time on the twelfth floor, and he was always buried in work on the nineteenth.

Except for that one time.

Maybe three months ago? You had shared an elevator with him when you both arrived at work around the same time. For eleven floors, you stood silently beside him. Well, you were silent. He was on the phone, speaking in that low, gravelly tone that had a way of crawling under your skin. Being so close, you could hear the slight slip of a Busan accent when he spoke. He wasn't rude, just... intense.

Even while curses slipped from his lips to whoever was on the other end of the line, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was just his usual tone—whether he was speaking to a business partner, an enemy, a lover. Either way, you didn't think it was negative. It was just him.

You knew bits and pieces about the guy from what Jimin had shared—him being Jungkook’s assistant and all—but nothing too personal. Not that you needed to know. Though, admittedly, he had piqued your interest.

A month prior to that elevator ride, you’d caught a glimpse of something that had you squirming in your seat. From your office, you had glanced over to see him leading a meeting on your floor. His suit jacket had been tossed over the back of his chair, revealing the dirtiest, prettiest fucking sleeve you’d ever laid eyes on. His big, tattooed bicep flexed with each movement as he pointed at the projector screen.

The sight had you groaning, pushing your unfinished lunch aside and retreating to the bathroom.

You’d tried calling your boyfriend, hoping to pull him into some filthy phone sex, but he was too nervous to go through with it. In the end, you hung up frustrated, finishing yourself off in the stall, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

The elevator ride felt quicker than usual. You kept your eyes fixed on the LED screen, watching the numbers tick up, though you were more focused on the way his cologne filled the space, light but somehow intoxicating. By the time the doors slid open on your floor, his call had ended. You adjusted your bag, turning to him with a polite bow.

"Have a good day, seonsaengnim," you'd said, your voice soft as you smiled.

He didn’t say anything back, just looked at you for a second, his dark eyes sweeping over your face. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he gave you a subtle nod, and you walked off, feeling his gaze linger as you left.

And that was it.

You didn't see him again. Not in the lobby, not passing by in meetings, not even when your car and his were the last ones left in the parking lot after late shifts. It wasn't unusual; he was literally the CEO, always busy, always somewhere else. He didn't have time to notice you.

But you couldn’t help but think about it more than you’d like to admit.

If you'd known that you'd never cross paths with him again, never ride the same elevator, never exchange more than those few words before your temp contract ended—would you have done something different? Said something more?

Maybe you would've clicked a higher floor.

But here you were. No offer. No permanence. Just three job offers from other firms sitting in your inbox, waiting for your reply. Of course, you had a backup plan—you weren't that naive. But something about it stung anyway. You'd take one of those offers at the end of the week, move on, and maybe one day, you'd forget about Jeon Corp entirely.

Sigh.

You were really going to miss Jiminie, though.

“So... how's your shift going?”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping as you twisted the cap off your water bottle, taking a sip before tearing the lid off your salad. Your phone sat on your desk, Hyungwon's voice crackling through the speaker.

"It's going good, Hyungwon," you replied, voice tinged with sarcasm. "Same as every day."

A sad chuckle echoed through the receiver. "Oh, yeah? Well, we just got new printers at the firm, you know, the Lexmark MX8s? What about y—"

The forkful of salad that was halfway to your mouth dropped back into the bowl. "Hyungwon," you interrupted, incredulity dripping from your tone. "Did you really call me to talk about printers?"

"Well, I—no, I just—"

You sighed, reaching for your water again and setting your untouched lunch down. "Hyungwon, I hope you're okay, I really do. And I'm happy for you and your fancy printers," yours were two seasons ahead, "but this isn't helping. You're not going to feel better if—"

"I just miss you, Y/N," his voice cracked, and instantly, your appetite evaporated. You let out another deep sigh, rubbing your temples, as Hyungwon's next words came out shaky. "And I just want to know what I did wrong. We were doing so well. W-what did I do?"

"Hyungwon…" You picked up the phone, taking it off speaker as you leaned back in your chair, eyes focused on the ceiling. "You didn't do anything. You're a great guy, okay?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, his voice bitter and teary. "Girls don't break up with 'great guys' after an amazing year together out of the blue, Y/N."

Was it out of the blue? Had it been amazing?

"We've been over this," you sighed, adjusting the phone in your hand. "A hundred times in the last month. It's not about what you did. We just—"

"Weren't right for each other," he finished, his voice robotic, like he was reciting a script he'd memorized against his will. A sniffle followed as you heard him reach for tissues. "Just… wanted you to know I miss you. And… could I come by next week? Pick up my clothes?"

You took a long drink from your water bottle, feeling a headache forming. "I’ll leave it with reception. You can pick it up from the office—"

"No," he cut in, his voice tight with desperation. "Please, from your place. I just… I need to see you one more time."

You exhaled deeply, eyes unfocused as you stared out your floor-to-ceiling window. It had been a month since you ended things with Park Hyungwon—a month since you stuffed his clothes into a box and offered to drop them off. A month of excuses, a month of him putting it off, dragging out these unbearable phone calls, asking to see you in person, to talk.

You knew why he wanted to make the exchange in person. You weren't stupid. But lately, something about his calls had been giving you a bad feeling—a taste in your mouth that lingered long after you hung up. Hyungwon wasn't dangerous. He wouldn't hurt a fly. But he was... off. These calls always followed a pattern.

First, 1:15pm, right when you started your break, your phone would buzz. You'd glance down, see an incoming call from P.H, and immediately regret ever sharing your lunch schedule with him.

Then, he'd be kind. Sweet. Boring. Asking about your shift, your day, until something—something trivial—would break his composure. He'd start to crack, voice shaking, or worse, he'd burst into tears over something like… printers.

By the end of the call, there was always that weird shift. Not angry, not sad… something in between. A mix of emotions that left you unsettled, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why. You could feel the resentment beneath it all, though—like he definitely blamed you for the breakup, no matter how many times he asked what he could've done to keep you.

That was fine. You were used to people resenting you. You were top of your major, gorgeous, and a bit of a bitch. But hearing that tone in Hyungwon's voice? A human puppy dog you'd spent a year of your life with? It made your skin crawl in a way you couldn't shake.

And now, here he was, asking to see you again. For what? Closure? An emotional showdown? You didn't care. You just knew you had to end this, fast. Another call filled with sniffles and pleas, eating away at what little break time you had? You'd throw yourself out that fucking floor-to-ceiling window before you let that happen again.

"Fine," you sighed, glancing at your watch as you switched the phone to your other ear. "You can come over next week. I'll check my schedule."

"Really?" His voice immediately brightened, and you rolled your eyes. "Shivers! That sounds great! Just text me when—"

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat. Shivers? SHIVERS?

"Break's over, Hyungwon," you interrupted, forcing a smile into your voice. "Talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Y/N. I'll call you tomorrow."

The line went dead, and your fist clenched around the phone.

"God," you muttered to yourself, tossing it onto your desk with an exasperated sigh, "I'm changing my fucking break time."

"Should I come back later?"

You yelped at the sudden voice, spinning around in your chair to see your best friend standing in your office doorway, his signature Cheshire grin firmly in place.

"Jiminie!" you beamed, frustration melting away as you rushed over to pull him into a hug. "No, it's okay. It was just—"

"Hyungwon," Jimin finished for you with a knowing, apologetic nod. "You know, you could always just… not answer when he calls?"

You rolled your eyes, brushing a piece of blonde fringe from his face. "And have his suicide on my conscience? No thanks."

"He's a grown man. He can make his own decisions," Jimin shrugged, laughing when you widened your eyes in faux shock.

You shuffled back to your desk, stabbing a cherry tomato from your salad. "Aren't you supposed to be telling me to run back into his arms and admit I was wrong? Some sort of cousin code or something?" you quirked a brow teasingly, humming around the mouthful.

He laughed softly, adjusting the files in his hand. "I'd never tell you to go back to something you were clearly miserable in, Y/N. Even if he is my cousin."

You swallowed another bite, giving him an appreciative smile before finishing the rest of your water bottle. "That is why I love you, Park." You threw the rest of your papers into a folder and linked your arm with his. "And why I'm going to miss you so much." You pouted playfully.

Jimin rolled his eyes, guiding you out of your office. The usual hustle and bustle of level twelve filled the air as he snorted, "Don't say that. You're not going anywhere, Y/N."

"Mm, I beg to differ." You shot back, bitterness lacing your voice. "I haven't heard a word about permanency, and my contract ends in four days." With a dramatic sigh, you added, "Guess you'll just have to visit me at KimCo on your lunch breaks instead."

"First of all," Jimin smirked, "I wouldn't drive across town on my lunch break to visit anyone, even you." You squinted at him as he teased, "And second, yeah, it's shitty that you haven't heard anything about the promotion—"

"And unprofessional," you interjected, rolling your eyes. "And discourteous, and obnoxious, and plain fucking rude—"

He chuckled, cutting you off with a light shrug. "Yes, all of the above," he agreed as you both reached the elevators. Unlinking his arm from yours, he pressed the button to go up. "But… have you accepted the offer at KimCo yet?"

You frowned, glancing at the lit-up arrow pointing up. "No, not yet. I was going to tonight…" You trailed off, turning to him in confusion. "Jiminie, why are we going up? Our meeting's on level seven."

Jimin glanced down at the file in his hand before his mouth opened to respond, but the elevator dinged, catching your attention.

The doors slid open, and you were immediately hit with the faint scent of tobacco and Bvlgari. Your head turned slightly, seeking the source.

Jungkook stood inside, eyes focused on the phone in his hand, dressed in a perfectly pressed designer suit that somehow looked more sinfully casual on him than it had any right to.

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from him and turning back to Jimin, waiting for an explanation.

"Oh yeah, uh, the meeting's been pushed back a bit," Jimin said, nodding to the elevator. "But you're needed upstairs for a moment."

You frowned, glancing down at the heavy folder in your hands as you stepped into the elevator. If the meeting was postponed, you wouldn't have dragged this big fucking thing around with you. You left some space between yourself and the CEO and Jimin happily slid in between, his usual smile bright and easy.

The doors closed, and silence settled over the small space. Jungkook was still looking at his phone. Jimin still hadn't pressed a button.

You frowned. "Jiminie, why haven't you clicked a floor?"

He turned toward you, feigning confusion as his eyes flicked toward the panel. "Oh, because it's already pressed." He shrugged, flashing a quick smile before turning forward again.

You stared harder at the panel. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jungkook's broad frame. His phone was tucked away now, but his gaze remained fixed straight ahead. He hadn't said a word.

"Level nineteen?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

Jimin nodded, offering you a simple smile.

The elevator crawled its way up slowly with a few more words exchanged between you and Jimin. Then, finally, the elevator dinged open at level nineteen, and the air shifted.

The sleek, pristine hallway stretched out before you, polished floors gleaming so bright that you could almost see your reflection in the tiles. You had only been here once before, for a department meeting with the CCO, Kim Namjoon.

Jimin politely bowed to his boss as you instinctively stepped back, allowing Jungkook to exit first. His gaze never wavered as he nodded in acknowledgment, his movements calm as he stepped out.

As you followed Jimin down the hall, you couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet everything was. The glass-paneled meeting rooms stood empty, the reception desk vacant. The last time you were here, the place had life, but now… nothing.

Jungkook disappeared into his office without a word while you and Jimin continued walking. Your confusion only deepened as you glanced through the glass panes into all the very empty meeting rooms.

Jimin slowed at the entryway to Jungkook's office.

"Jiminie, what's going on?" you asked, gently grabbing his arm. "Am I supposed to have a meeting with Jeon Jungkook-seonsaengnim? Why wasn't I informed? I need to know what's required—"

"Y/N," Jimin interrupted softly, his hand covering yours reassuringly. "I'll explain soon, okay? I know it's last minute, and I'm sorry for that. Let me just make sure everything is on track." He smiled at you before gesturing to the plush seats outside the office. "Take a seat. I won't be long."

You hesitated, but trusting your best friend, you nodded, setting your folder on the table before sitting down. Jimin gave you one last encouraging smile before disappearing inside Jungkook's office, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Your eyes darted around the hallway as you waited, the clean surroundings feeling almost too sterile, too perfect. The glass walls of Jungkook's office made it impossible not to glance inside. You caught a glimpse of him flipping through a file, his expression focused, detached. Jimin approached him, placing his own file down on the desk as the two exchanged quiet words.

Jimin greeted his boss again with a respectful bow. "Seonsaengnim," he smiled, placing the file in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook didn't look up from the papers he was thumbing through. "Is she waiting for me?"

"Yes, sir," Jimin replied, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. "You have about thirty minutes before the board meeting, so I thought now could be a good time for you to meet with Y/LN Y/N… The temp administrative assistant from level twelve? Her contract ends in—"

"Four days," Jungkook finished, finally closing the file in front of him. He reached for the one Jimin had brought, flipping it open. "Why hasn't her contract been extended? Her performance is strong, and she has streamlined operations in her department. Does she not wish to stay with the company?"

"She does, sir," Jimin nodded. "But I was informed by Namjoon-seonsaengnim's assistant that Lee Dohyun does not plan to extend her contract. He intends to let it end."

Jungkook's brow twitched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he flipped through the papers. "And why does Dohyun plan to do that? She's efficient, profitable. She cleaned up the mess the last administrative assistant left behind." His tone was clipped, irritation poorly masked.

Jimin shifted on his feet, the hint of hesitation visible in his posture. "I'm not entirely sure, sir. It's mostly hearsay, but…" he cleared his throat, glancing at Jungkook before continuing cautiously, "there's a rumor that she rejected one of Dohyun's advances a few months ago. Since then, word has flown around that he's been less than accommodating toward her."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his fingers stopping their idle flipping as his gaze snapped back to Jimin. "So, he's punishing her for not entertaining him?"

Jimin's silence was enough of an answer.

Jungkook's jaw clenched, the tension in his shoulders building. He flipped the file shut, the subtle thud of the paper echoing in the quiet office.

"Why have you brought her to me, Jimin?" he asked, shooting a sharp look at his assistant. "There's a chain of command. At least six people between Dohyun and me."

"There are," Jimin acknowledged. "But some months ago, you mentioned noticing a significant increase in productivity and efficiency in Administration… You said the improvements could be attributed to the new assistant's work. I just thought considering her contract ends in four days, you'd want to meet her personally before she accepts another offer."

Jungkook leaned back against his desk, glancing at the glass door where you were sitting, your legs crossed, eyes absentmindedly focused on a strand of your hair. His gaze flicked over your tight black pencil skirt, the cream blouse that hugged your figure, the neat ponytail held in place by four bobby pins.

"She's very good," he admitted, eyes dropping back to the folder. "But I don't meddle in the hiring department. Tell Dohyun to reconsider his decision."

Jimin shifted slightly. "He's on leave for the rest of the week, sir."

Jungkook sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Then go to the next in command, Jimin. I'm not—"

"She's accepting an offer from another firm tonight, Jungkook," Jimin said quickly, catching himself. "Jungkook-seonsaengnim," he corrected. "Once she signs the contract with KimCo, there won't be time to make a counteroffer."

Jungkook went quiet; his eyes focused on the closed folder in front of him as Jimin pressed on. "Just five minutes, sir. That's all she needs."

Jungkook's eyes flicked up to meet Jimin's. He rolled his eyes, leaning back on his desk, arms crossing over his chest. "You're supposed to make my life easier, not harder, Park."

Jimin couldn't help but grin, looking over his shoulder to catch you glancing down at your Apple watch. He bit back a snicker when you rolled your eyes, clearly getting impatient.

"She'd be a big loss, seonsaengnim," Jimin said honestly as he turned back to his boss. "I believe I'm making your life easier. You live, eat, and breathe this company."

Jungkook groaned, closing his eyes briefly before nodding. "Send her in. Five minutes."

"Thank you, seonsaengnim." Jimin bowed, turning toward the door.

"Jimin," Jungkook called out, his assistant's hand freezing on the handle.

"Yes, sir?"

"Draft effective immediate termination papers for Lee Dohyun and put them on my desk when you leave for the night."

Jimin bit back a grin. "Yes, sir."

You straightened in your seat as soon as you saw Jimin approaching, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He looked like the cat that caught the canary, and you didn't trust it for a second.

"Y/N, this way, please—"

"No," you snapped, swatting his outstretched hand away. "Brief me."

There was no way you were walking into a meeting with the fucking CEO without any preparation. Was he fucking high?

Jimin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Relax, Y/N. It'll only take a few minutes. Jungkook's not much of a talker…" He reached out again, and you batted his hand away once more.

He laughed again, then pouted, blinking at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Please, Y/N? Just trust me."

"God, you're a cunt," you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare as you stood and smoothed your skirt. Reluctantly, you started toward the office.

"Unprofessional…" Jimin teased with a grin, snickering when you turned and mouthed 'get fucked' at him before stepping inside.

The glass doors clicked softly behind you as you entered the impeccably tidy office. "Seonsaengnim," you greeted with a bow. “Y/LN Y/N. It's nice to formally meet you."

Jungkook barely glanced up, his dark eyes sweeping over you for just a moment before he dropped them back down to the file on his desk.

His nod was curt, his voice low and indifferent. "Jeon Jungkook," he said, as if his name wasn't already plastered across every inch of this building.

When he gestured toward the seat in front of his desk, you sat down, crossing your legs as he settled back into his chair. His attention returned to the open file. "Your contract ends in four days."

"Yes, sir," you nodded, hands resting in your lap as you held back any trace of bitterness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" His voice was steady as his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

You blinked, a little surprised by the question. "No, sir. I do wish to stay. But I haven't heard anything from management regarding a permanent position."

"Who do you report to?" Jungkook asked, though you were sure he already knew the answer.

"Lee Dohyun-seonsaengnim."

He leaned back in his chair, drumming his tattooed fingers lightly against the desk as he skimmed the file. "Your work is impressive."

"Thank you, sir." You smiled softly, ignoring how those four simple words made your stomach flip. "That means a lot coming from you."

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he closed the file and set it aside. "Y/LN Y/N," he said, his voice calm, "Why do you think your contract hasn't been extended?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "I'm not entirely sure, seonsaengnim."

Jungkook hummed. "You've been here almost a year. Your work speaks for itself. Yet your contract hasn't been extended." His gaze locked on yours, and for a second, he almost looked genuinely interested. "Why?"

You inhaled slowly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. "I've heard rumors, sir. But I'm not one hundred percent certain."

An eyebrow arched, and Jungkook tilted his head slightly. "Let's say the rumors are true. Do you think personal reasons should outweigh performance?"

"No, sir," you answered steadily. "But I don't control the decisions."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with amusement. Whether he appreciated your honesty or just liked watching you squirm, you weren't sure. "Do you plan on accepting an offer from another company, Y/N?"

You gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir. My first choice is KimCo. They've offered me a permanent coordinator role in their administration department. I plan on sending my letter of acceptance tonight, after my shift."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes roaming over you lazily, but enough that it was impossible not to notice. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" he asked finally, his voice casual as he leaned back in his chair. "Or are you happy to go to KimCo?"

"I would prefer to stay, sir," you said, holding his gaze. "If Jeon Corp is willing to match the salary offer and I'm guaranteed a permanent position."

"What's the offer?"

"₩67m, sir."

Jungkook's expression didn't change. "We can do eighty."

"Wha—"

"I'll have your permanent administrative coordinator contract drafted by tonight and emailed to you. Will that work?"

It took you a second to process his words before you blinked in surprise. "Yes, sir," you replied, fighting to keep the smile tugging at your lips in check. "It would."

Jungkook leaned back further in his chair, his eyes flicking over you once more, lingering in a way that wasn't accidental. Then, with a simple nod, he closed the file in front of him. "Good. I'll expect your response by tomorrow morning."

You still don't really know how it happened.

Maybe it started when you stood to give him a polite bow before leaving his office, and he reached out for a handshake at the exact same moment. His cold hand accidentally brushed against the side of your inner breast through your blouse as you leaned forward, and suddenly, both of you froze.

Jungkook pulled his hand back sharply, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the file on his desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world, muttering a low apology, his usual confident tone suddenly gone.

It was... so cute.

Seeing the man who looked like he could ruin your life with just a snap of his fingers suddenly all shy and flustered as if he was more embarrassed than you were? Fucking adorable.

Maybe it was his instinct to avoid an HR complaint, to maintain professionalism in what could have been misconstrued as an inappropriate touch.

But you weren't going to misconstrue it. It was an accident.

And, honestly... you always were kind of a sucker for bad boys with soft eyes.

"Fucking goodddd!!!" you moaned, your voice barely coherent as your cheek pressed against the cold surface of his desk. Each relentless thrust from Jungkook had your body jiggling under him, your mind lost in a haze as his hips slammed into you without mercy. "S-so fucking b-biiiiig."

Your eyes rolled back, throat raw from the croaky whimpers that escaped between each ragged breath. His hand was firm on the back of your head, keeping you pinned down, helpless as he took you apart, piece by piece.

"I know, baby," he cooed, his voice laced with that condescending pout that only made you clench harder around him. "I know it's big, baby. But you can take it, can't you?"

His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing lightly over your flushed cheek in a teasing, mocking pat. Then, without warning, he pulled back and slammed into you harder, deeper, until you felt him hit that spot. That fucking spottt. Your breath caught in your throat as he didn't stop, didn't let up, just kept going, over and over and over.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, nails scraping into the polished wood of his desk until you felt the lacquer gathering beneath your fingernails. The loud, wet slaps of his hips against your ass echoed through the room, his heavy balls smacking into your swollen clit.

"'Course you can take it. 'Cause you're such a hard worker, hm? Such an overachiever, aren't you, baby." His voice dripped with dark amusement, each taunting word sending shivers down your spine. His hand pressed your head harder into the desk, the weight of him leaving you trembling, drool pooling on the wood beneath you as you gasped and whimpered, completely at his mercy.

"You can take it, Y/N. Know you can," he murmured, every word like a filthy promise, his gaze locked on the way your body was surrendering to him, giving him everything. He wasn’t going to stop until you broke. Until you were his.

"Color, baby." He growled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He hummed in delight when he felt you swallow, your gasps feeding into his satisfaction.

"Green," you choked out, barely able to form the words. "Do anything to me. Green, fucking green to it all," you cried, voice raw as tears blurred your vision, and Jungkook groaned, teeth grazing the delicate skin of your throat in approval.

His grip tightened in your hair again, yanking you upright until your back was flush against his chest. "G-g-godddddd," you choked out, body trembling, tears threatening to spill as his thrusts grew quicker, more brutal, each one slamming harder and louder, drowning out everything else.

Your hands shot up, clawing desperately at the back of his neck as you tried to hold on, your body burning from the inside out as he destroyed you. His lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin just as his hand slipped down your stomach, his fingers finding your swollen, slippery clit with ease.

Jungkook's pace became punishing, driving into you harder and faster, your body quivering under his touch. His lips brushed lazily over your neck, whispering filthy praise into your ear as his fingers circled your clit, sending a jolt through your entire body. The wet, sloppy sounds of his hips smacking into your ass filled the room, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, your voice cracking as his pace quickened even more at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's s-so… fuck…"

He groaned low in your ear, his hand fisting your hair tighter, yanking your head back as his hips crashed into you over and over. "So good, Y/N baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "You're doing so fucking well. Taking it so good."

The praise made your throat bob, your entire body teetering on the edge of collapse. You couldn't think of anything but him—full, Jungkook, full, Jungkook. It was all-consuming, the only thing that mattered.

You weren't just wet anymore—you were disgustingly soaked, your arousal dripping down your thighs, mixing with the sweat on your skin as he ruined you. You let out a sob as tears streaked down your cheeks, your mascara no doubt smeared beyond repair as your entire body burned with pleasure.

"Careful, baby," he hummed darkly, voice tinged with amusement. "Don't want anyone to hear you, huh. Coming to check if you're okay..."

Your eyes flicked toward the glass doors, your head lolling back into the crook of his neck as you realized the vulnerability of your position. Fucked out, skirt bunched up around your waist, tits spilling over your bra, completely on display and helpless in his arms—holy fuck. The idea of someone seeing you like this had your thighs pathetically trembling as you felt yourself get even wetter. Sicko.

"S-sir," you stammered, the words forced out between his relentless thrusts that threw your body forward. "Cl-close the blinds."

Jungkook's lips curled into a smile against your neck at the lack of conviction in your words. Fucking perfect. His breath was warm as he whispered, "Why would I want to do that?" His hand slid to your chin, his fingers gripping firmly as he forced your eyes to the glass. "Y'look so fucking pretty, Y/N. Who would want to hide all that?"

Humiliation mixed with need, making your core throb even harder. The reflection of your wrecked form stared back at you—trembling, sweaty, makeup running down your tear-streaked face.

Well, he wasn't wrong. You did look kind of pretty.

The thought of how many other women had been in this same position with him briefly slithered through your mind, but you whimpered, pushing it away.

"H-harder, Jungkook… please," you gasped, voice a broken plea. "P-please, baby?"

That was all it took. His low groan vibrated through you, his hands gripping your waist tight as he snapped his hips into you with a force that made the desk rattle beneath your hands. One hand cupped your breast, tugging harshly at your nipple, while the other slipped down to mercilessly slap at your clit over and over.

"Shit, shit, shit, shittttt!" you sobbed, your voice high and broken, pleasure tearing through your body.

"You're close, aren't you?" Jungkook rasped, his voice rough as his thrusts grew erratic, harder, faster. "Getting so fucking tight around me. Gonna come for me, aren't you, baby?"

Your mind was gone. You couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, filling you, owning you. "J-Jungkook..." you slurred, your head falling back against his chest, "please make me come, baby, pleasepleasepleaseeee."

Jungkook's arms tightened around your trembling body, and in one quick motion, he sat back in his office chair, pulling you down into his lap. You cried out as his hands hooked under the back of your knees, planting his feet on the ground and spreading your legs wide, completely open, and facing the see-through fucking doors.

He didn't give you a second to breathe before he started pounding into you again, his fat cock hitting so deep at the new angle that your body shook uncontrollably. You couldn't even hear your own cries—just the wet, obscene slapping of skin and Jungkook's gorgeous groans in your ear.

"Rub your fucking clit," he commanded, his voice thick with urgency. "Come. Now, Y/N. Fucking come."

Your hand flew to your clit, trembling fingers rubbing furiously, slipping because you were so fucking wet. "Jungkook," you gasped, voice breaking, tears pouring down your cheeks.

"No, baby, f-fuckkk, I'm sor—" You couldn't stop the sobs, your body convulsing as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you. "Jungkook, I'm—I'm so sorry, ahhhh fuckkk! I-I'm gonna squirt, oh my goddddd!"

"Fuck, yes," he growled, and just as your body started to seize up, his hand shot down, pressing hard on your lower belly and bladder, right where he was buried deep inside you. His hips didn't relent, pounding into you with the same brutal pace.

The pressure on your abdomen made everything inside you snap. Your scream tore through his office as your walls clamped down hard on him, your body shaking violently as your hand trembled, losing its grip on your clit. You came so hard that your hand slipped away entirely, but before the overwhelming release could fade, Jungkook's hand was there, replacing yours instantly. His fingers rubbed your swollen clit with intense pressure, refusing to let you stop.

"Fuckk, look at that fucking pussy, Y/N," he growled as he slapped your pulsing clit over and over. "Keep going, fuck, keep squirting on my fucking dick, baby, holy shittttt."

The filthy command tipped you over the edge again. The sensation was too much, and you started to gush even harder. Wetness sprayed everywhere, soaking his lap, drenching the desk. You were fucking gone.

"Holy fuck," Jungkook choked out at the sight of your cunt gushing out liquid, his hips jerking erratically as his body tensed beneath you. He came hard into the condom with a deep, broken groan, his grip on you tight as he rode out his release, still rubbing your clit with nasty, unrelenting strokes, making sure you didn't stop.

Your body convulsed violently, your legs shaking uncontrollably as he kept rubbing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were a trembling, sobbing mess. His big hand cupped over your warm pussy, feeling it throb beneath his palm as he slowed his thrusts, easing you through the last shudders of your release.

"My godddd," he growled, his voice raw with awe as he moved his hand and looked down at the mess you'd made. Your quivering pussy, glistening and red, his slacks drenched, the chair wet, and even some paperwork on the desk soaked through.

Fuck, he groaned internally. He's obsessed.

Your chest heaved as you slumped against him, completely spent, your head falling onto his shoulder. Jungkook’s hands glided up and down your trembling thighs, suppressing the smile tugging at his lips as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together.

"Well done," he murmured, his lips grazing your forehead before pressing a soft kiss there. You could still feel his heart racing against your skin as you tried to catch your breath.

"Seonsaengnim," you muttered, still panting, "I'm so sorry about your papers—"

"Shut up," Jungkook cut you off with a roll of his eyes, your sudden shift to formalities clearly grating on him. His hands continued their soothing path over your stomach, fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin before he gently adjusted your legs on his lap. His strong thighs kept your feet dangling above the floor, his touch softening as he patted your belly absentmindedly, his voice easing. "It’s alright."

You tried to gather yourself, your mind still spinning. "I haven't done that in a while," you mumbled into his neck, the words slipping out without thought. "God."

Jungkook swallowed hard, suppressing the mix of emotions rising in his chest. Pride at making you feel this way. Anger at knowing someone else had. His jaw clenched briefly before he cleared his throat, forcing a casual hum of acknowledgment. "Good."

He patted your belly a couple more times, as though resetting his focus. "You okay to get dressed?" he asked, his voice slipping into something nonchalant, though the grip on your thighs lingered a moment longer than necessary. "I've got a meeting soon."

You cleared your throat and nodded, feeling a little unsteady as you began to push yourself up from his lap. His hands helped guide you as you stood, and you winced slightly as he slipped out of you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you ignored the sensation, letting your skirt fall back into place. You glanced around the room, searching for your panties.

You crouched down, looking under the chair, then the desk, even flipping through some of the papers on his desk, but there was no sign of them.

"Have you seen my…?" you trailed off, turning to look at him, feeling the confusion settle in as you noticed his casual indifference. Jungkook, now having disposed of the condom, zipped up his slacks with an air of calmness that seemed just a bit too casual for your liking.

You raised a brow, suspicion growing. His expression mirrored yours with a glint in his eyes.

"Where are they?" you asked, narrowing your gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he straightened his shirt. Then, he casually slipped his hands into his pockets, and that's when you caught the faintest flicker of black lace peeking out from one of them.

You scoffed, stepping toward him, but before you could snatch them back, Jungkook caught your hand. He snickered softly as he brought it to his lips, pressing a mocking kiss to your knuckles.

“01J09. Lock the door when you leave, Y/N." His tone was commanding but light as he slipped past you, grabbing his suit jacket as if nothing had happened. He gave you one last look before walking out of the room, leaving you standing in the middle of his messed-up office.

You slumped back into his chair with a huff, quickly adjusting your bra and buttoning your blouse. As you started to tidy the room, you found some disinfectant wipes in a cupboard and began cleaning the desk, trying to distract yourself.

The sound of the door opening behind you startled you, and you quickly turned, assuming Jungkook had returned. But when you locked eyes with your best friend smirking widely at the scene, your stomach dropped.

"You fucking slut!" Jimin shouted, closing the door behind him as he made his way toward you, cupping your face with both hands. His grin was bright, teasing, as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Holy shit! I'm mortified that I just walked past and saw my best friend getting railed by my boss… but I'm also so fucking happy! So, are you staying? Are you guys a thing? How did it happen? Holy fuck—"

"Jiminie," you whined, pulling his hands away and turning back to the desk to finish cleaning, "I'll tell you later. My legs hurt, and we need to get to the meeting—"

"The meeting's over," Jimin interrupted with a snicker, "it's been an hour."

"What the fuck?!" Panic washed over you as you turned to face him, eyes wide.

Jimin just shrugged, still wearing that smug smile. "It's fine, Y/N. I took notes; they're on our shared drive. It wasn't anything important. Definitely not as important as the 'meeting' you were in."

You snorted, tossing the used wipes into the bin and slipping your heels back on as you made your way toward the door, legs still shaky. "Jesus, Jimin, I can barely walk."

"I noticed," Jimin teased, his voice full of amusement. "Want me to carry you?"

"No thanks," you replied quickly, shuddering at the thought. "I'd rather crawl than have anyone see you carry me out of here."

"Are you at least going to the bathroom to fix your hair and makeup?" he asked, eyeing you critically. "You look like you were attacked by a swarm of wasps..."

You groaned. "Yes, Jiminie. I'm going to the bathroom. Now stop pestering me, or you'll be having movie night alone tomorrow."

His smirk softened into a playful smile. "Okay, okay. I'll wait for you in your office."

You waited for him to leave before entering the pin code to lock Jungkook's office door. After hearing the beep and confirming the door was secure, you turned to head toward the bathroom, only to find Jimin still blocking your path, brows furrowed and eyes wide.

"Jimin-ah, move—"

"He gave you the code to his office?" Jimin's voice was serious now, the lightheartedness from earlier gone.

You blinked at him, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. "Yes. Can you please move?"

Jimin didn't budge. His frown deepened as he processed the information. “Y/N… He doesn't just give the code to his office out. To anyone."

Your stomach twisted at his words. "Maybe he'll change it later. He said he had a meeting to go to—"

Jimin shook his head. "He hasn't changed that code since he took over. And… he just canceled his meetings for this afternoon. I thought it was because…"

The sinking feeling in your stomach grew worse. Of course, Jungkook lied and just wanted to leave. What was he supposed to do—sit there and cuddle you? Offer you aftercare? This wasn't new for him. You weren't special. Just another woman in a long line.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the bile rising in your throat. "Jiminie, can I… meet you downstairs? I need to go to the bathroom."

Jimin's expression softened instantly, his hand reaching out to brush some hair from your face before leaning in to kiss your forehead. "Okay, love. I'll get you some water and wait in your office."

You thanked him quietly before heading to the bathroom, locking the door before you leaned heavily against the sink. Staring at your reflection, you sighed at the sight. Your sleek ponytail was merely a distant memory, makeup smeared beyond repair. And there, on your neck, was a deep hickey blooming against your skin.

"Idiot," you muttered to yourself as you turned the tap on, starting to scrub your face clean in attempt to erase every trace of what just happened.

What was happening to you? You never let stuff like this get to you. You'd had more than your fair share of one-night stands, and you knew better than to let them mean anything. It was nothing to him, and it should've been nothing to you.

But god, it felt like so much more than nothing.

"Idiotttt," you muttered again, this time more frustrated. As you aggressively wiped away the mascara and dried tears, your eyes kept drifting back to the hickey. You sighed, knowing you had no makeup to cover it until you got back to your office.

With a huff, you walked toward the toilet and sat down, your hand grazing the mark on your neck while you peed. The memory of his lips still lingered fresh in your mind, and the longer you sat there, the more the reality of it all began to sink in.

Fuck, you groaned internally. You're obsessed.

Jungkook pulled the keys from the ignition, stepping out of his car and adjusting the collar of his suit jacket when it shifted out of place. The door clicked shut behind him as he locked the Mercedes, casually slipping his phone into his pocket—right next to your panties, still snug in the black fabric of his slacks.

When he reached the reception desk, a fake redhead sat behind it, focused on a stack of paperwork. She didn’t notice him at first, not until the sound of his footsteps caught her attention. The moment her eyes met his, Jungkook noticed the way she straightened in her seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted, her voice sweet but dripping with an attempt at seduction. “Welcome to Jang Merriott. How can I be of service?”

Jungkook swallowed the grimace threatening to surface, but his lips curved into that fake, charming smile he’d perfected for work events. “Hi, darling.” His voice was smooth, just the right amount of warmth. “I’m here for a business meeting, but I’m so silly...” He leaned in slightly, watching her eyes widen. His voice dropped to a lower, more intimate tone. “I forgot which room it’s in. Think you could help me?”

His eyes flicked to her nametag—Cho Minju—and when he looked back, he could practically see her mind spinning. “I-I…” she stammered, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Do you have the name of the—”

“Lee Dohyun,” Jungkook answered easily, not missing the way she gulped when he added softly, “Thank you, baby.”

“L-Lee Dohyun,” she echoed nervously, typing the name into the system with shaky fingers. Then she paused, biting her lip. “I, um… I really shouldn’t if you aren’t—if you’re not on the guest list…”

“It would really help me out, Minju-yah,” Jungkook murmured, his voice taking on a softer, boyish edge. His brows furrowed just slightly as he leaned in a touch more, looking at her through his lashes. “If I’m late, Dohyun-seonsaengnim will kill me… I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Her wide eyes blinked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. He could see the internal battle playing out in her head—protocol versus the hot guy in front of her. Predictably, protocol lost.

“Floor 13, room 304,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, baby,” Jungkook replied with a charming smile, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into her tip jar before walking toward the elevator. Minju’s breath caught again as he turned and walked toward the elevator, not looking back once.

As the elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, Jungkook’s facade dropped, and he let out a small, amused scoff. He thought that was going to cost him at least a couple grand.

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended. When the monotone voice announced floor 13, the doors slid open, revealing a quiet, plush carpeted hallway. Jungkook strode out, his eyes narrowing slightly as he made his way to room 304.

“Jungkook-seonsaengnim?” Dohyun’s voice cracked in surprise when he opened the door, eyes widening at the unexpected sight of his boss. “I’m on leave, sir, is everything oka—”

The words barely left his mouth before Jungkook’s fist connected sharply with the side of his jaw. The force of the blow sent Dohyun crashing to the ground, his head snapping back as he sprawled out, half-dangling outside the doorway. His feet splayed awkwardly on the floor, barely moving. Jungkook nudged his limp body inside with the toe of his polished shoe, stepping over him as he calmly closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“Everything’s fine, Dohyun.” Jungkook’s voice was casual, almost too calm, as he crouched down to level his gaze with the man on the floor. Dohyun was clutching his jaw, eyes wide with terror, blinking back tears as he struggled to sit up. Confusion mixed with fear spread across his face, trembling as he tried to find his words.

Jungkook tilted his head, a slow, cold smirk pulling at his lips. "Great, actually," he continued, the menace in his voice unmistakable. His eyes flickered over the man on the ground as if he were nothing more than something to be dealt with. “And it’ll be even better in a second.”

TODAY

The soft click of heels against tile echoed down the pristine hall of level nineteen. Jimin and Hobi were either side of you, all three of you deep in conversation about Jimin's latest epic love saga.

“And afterward, we went and got ice cream,” Jimin sighed, a dreamy smile spreading across his lips. “And he even paid for my cone. I think he’s the one.”

You and Hobi shared a knowing look before turning back to him. Hobi giggled, shaking his head, while you leaned your head on Jimin’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “I’m sure he is, honey. Was it at least a double scoop?”

Jimin beamed, nodding enthusiastically, but his excitement faltered the second he caught the teasing smirks plastered on your and Hobi’s faces. His expression morphed into a pout as he narrowed his eyes at the both of you.

"Whatever. Just because you—" Jimin shot a pointed look at Hobi, "—don’t sleep with anyone more than once because of your deep-rooted commitment issues, and you—" he turned his accusing gaze to you, "—have found the only person in Seoul as crazy and fucked up as you to spend the rest of your life with, doesn’t make Min Yoongi any less of a perfect prince."

Hoseok grunted, crossing his arms dramatically as you broke into laughter. "You're not wrong," you hummed with a shrug, right as Hobi muttered defensively, "I don't have commitment issues."

It was Hobi’s turn to receive knowing looks from both of you before he sighed, dramatically slowing his pace as you reached the entrance of the meeting room. "Whatever, you guys suck."

Snickering softly, the three of you stepped inside, bowing politely to the handful of executives already seated around the large meeting table. As usual, the three of you were early, but you noticed that a few others had already claimed their seats. Unfortunately, there weren’t three consecutive spots left for you all to sit together.

Your gaze immediately went to the head of the table, the seat reserved for the CEO, which was still empty. You knew Jungkook was in a meeting with Kim Namjoon that had run overtime, so their arrival was indefinitely delayed.

The seat closest to the CEO’s chair—Namjoon’s usual spot—was unoccupied, but the one on the opposite end, typically claimed by you, Jimin, or Hobi, was already taken. You felt your blood boil when you saw Heejin, the newly appointed temp head of Communications while Sana Minatozaki was on maternity leave, sitting there comfortably, scrolling through a document on her laptop.

Jimin caught your eye, noticing Heejin as well, and gestured toward the chair next to her, silently offering it to you. You just shook your head, flashing a small smile as if to say, no fucking thanks. He and Hobi settled into two seats beside each other, leaving you to scan the rest of the room for an available spot.

Your options weren’t great.

A middle seat between Hailey and Vernon—two relentless chatterboxes from levels three and four—caught your eye. You grimaced immediately at the thought of being dragged into their non-stop, ping-pong conversation about god knows what. They could probably talk about fucking office supplies for hours if given the chance.

Then your gaze shifted to the next option: a seat next to Kang Minho, the scruffy finance head. As expected, he was already twirling a cigar between his fingers, his eyes twitching in clear defiance of the new no-smoking rule in meetings. The urge to light it was practically vibrating off him.

You sighed.

That left the only bearable choice: a seat next to Oh Sehun, the head of Technology and Innovation. He was known to be quiet and professional, and most importantly, he's least likely to annoy you.

Resigned, you pulled the chair next to Sehun, placing your laptop and phone on the table in front of you. He glanced over with a polite smile, nodding in greeting. You returned the gesture, settling into your seat and immediately focusing on starting up your laptop.

The room settled into a quiet lull, with only a few hushed conversations breaking the silence. Most of the attendees were either finishing up side discussions or preparing for the meeting as they trickled in. As your laptop booted up, you instinctively picked up your phone, slipping it under the table. Your fingers moved quickly, opening the location app and tapping on Jungkook’s name. The pin was still loading when you heard a throat clear beside you.

Oh, here we fucking go.

“Y/N-ssi?”

You locked your phone and turned toward Sehun with a forced smile. "Yes, Sehun-ssi. How can I help?"

His smile widened slightly, a little shy. "Uh, I just wanted to say… congratulations. Your promotion to Head of Operations & Efficiency—it's no small feat. Not an easy title to earn or handle. But I've seen your work, and it's… admirable. Truly."

You almost frowned, caught off guard. That was… really sweet.

"Oh," you replied, your voice softening. "Thank you, Sehun-ssi, that’s very kind of you. I appreciate it a lot." You smiled genuinely this time. "And I’ve heard a lot about you, too. Running your department is also no easy task, and you do it well."

Sehun grinned, his head dipping slightly as his ears turned a bit red. "Ah, thank you so much," he murmured, looking humbled. "I’ve learned a lot from our CEO, Jungkook-seonsaengnim. He’s incredible. One day, I hope to have my own business and run it just like him."

You bit the inside of your lip, warmth swelling in your chest at the compliment to your man. "He is," you agreed softly, your smile a little more private this time. "And I’m sure you will."

Sehun’s lip was caught between his teeth as his eyes seemed to linger just below yours, but before you could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room, drawing your attention. You turned toward the entrance.

Jungkook and Namjoon strode into the room, their presence immediately commanding attention. Namjoon greeted the department heads with a dimply smile, but your eyes locked onto Jungkook. His gaze, however, wasn’t on you—it was unwaveringly fixed on Sehun’s reddened face. A flash of something dark crossed his features, and he didn’t spare you or anyone else a glance as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Straightening in your chair, you swallowed the scoff that rose in your throat. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention already on the file in front of him as he flipped through it silently. Namjoon’s eyes flickered over Jungkook’s hardened expression before realizing the CEO wouldn’t be opening the meeting. Clearing his throat, Namjoon stood up and took over.

"Good morning, everyone. Glad to see you all here," Namjoon greeted, flashing a bright, toothy smile. The room responded with polite murmurs. "We’ve got a full agenda today, so let’s start with—"

About thirty minutes into the meeting, you were still focused on your notes. Namjoon was wrapping up his discussion on a new marketing campaign strategy that had piqued your interest. You were typing up the last few points when Jungkook’s deep voice suddenly rang out. Your body reacted instantly, muscles relaxing after hearing him finally speak after what felt like hours of his silence.

"Sehun," Jungkook called out, his tone firm and commanding, and your head snapped up instinctively, surprised to find that Sehun had leaned over, perhaps about to whisper something to you while Namjoon was speaking.

"Did you have a question about the campaign strategy?" Jungkook’s voice was measured, but you felt the tension behind it.

Sehun jerked back, startled by the sudden attention. "Oh, I- no, sir, I was just—"

"Conversing with your colleague while your superior was in the middle of speaking," Jungkook finished for him, his dark gaze unwavering, pinning the tech head in place. "I'm sure I’d be more than capable of answering any questions you have regarding the project. Go ahead."

It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order.

Sehun swallowed nervously, eyes flicking down to his laptop as if it held the answers. Then, foolishly, he glanced at you, probably hoping for some kind of lifeline. You could only offer him an apologetic look, knowing your boyfriend's ways.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched visibly, his irritation evident as he barked out, "Do you need her to speak for you?" His fist tightened on the table beside him, knuckles paling. "Are you that incompetent?"

Your gaze slowly shifted from Sehun, who was visibly shaken, to your boyfriend, who was fucking seething. You sighed softly, dropping your gaze back to your laptop, fingers resuming their typing with a small shake of your head.

And then his voice came again. A little softer, but still pissed. "Did you have something to add, Y/N?"

Your fingers froze mid-typing. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel every pair of eyes turning to you. Everyone knew about your relationship with Jungkook. It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t exactly something you had announced over the firm intercom, either. Most of the department heads were aware and knew better than to draw attention to it, but there were still some, like poor Sehun, who hadn’t quite pieced it together yet.

When you looked up, Jungkook’s dark eyes were locked on you. From your peripheral, you saw Jimin and Hobi exchanging wide-eyed glances, while Heejin’s gaze flickered nervously between you and the CEO.

Every fiber in your bratty being wanted to fight back, make him repeat himself, ask him what the fuck he was trying to prove by putting you on the spot in front of a room full of department heads. But the professional in you won out, forcing you to bite your tongue.

You shook your head calmly. "No, sir." The silence was deafening. You turned to Namjoon, whose eyes were carefully trained on his papers. "My apologies, Namjoon-seongsaengnim," you said. "We didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please, continue."

Namjoon nodded appreciatively, sending you a brief smile before moving on. “Right, as I was saying…”

The meeting finally wrapped up, and everyone began packing up their things. Some were quicker than others to vacate the room, with Kang Minho leading the pack, cigar already halfway to his lips, lighter flicking in agitation.

You closed your laptop with a little more force than intended, irritation still simmering under your skin. Grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, you stood, feeling Sehun shifting beside you, fumbling to gather his things. You could almost sense the apology hanging on the edge of his lips, and you sighed internally, praying he wouldn’t try and engage in conversation with you again.

Jimin and Hobi walked over, ready to leave, but your attention was drawn to Heejin’s voice as she spoke to Jungkook. Your movements slowed as you listened.

“Thank you for such a great meeting, seonsaengnim,” she said sweetly, her fingers tapping the edge of her laptop.

You clenched your jaw slightly, the inside of your cheek caught between your teeth. Namjoon had handled ninety percent of the presentation—what the fuck was she even thanking him for?

“I actually had a few concerns for the Communications department that I was hoping to run by you—"

"Take them up with your superior," Jungkook replied, not even bothering to glance her way as he slipped his phone into his pocket and made his way toward the door.

Heejin smiled, clearly undeterred as she closed her laptop and followed after him. "But you are my superior," she giggled. Your brows furrowed as you turned to look at her follow after your man like a lost puppy. Your grip on your laptop tightened.

Jungkook sighed, forgetting she had even been promoted recently. Still, he didn’t glance at her. “Make an appointment with one of my assistants, Heejin,” he said, his voice dripping with impatience. “I have somewhere to be. Excuse me, please.”

Excuse me, please? You rolled your eyes. Why doesn't he just tell her to get on her knees and get to work?

Heejin nodded, still all smiles as she left the room, laptop clutched to her chest. You gathered your things and fell into step with Jimin and Hobi. Jungkook paused near the end of the table, his gaze boring into you, but you ignored the stare, slipping between your friends as you headed out.

“Y/N-ssi,” Sehun’s voice cut through the air as he jogged to catch up with the three of you.

You sucked your teeth, glancing down at your watch. Fifteen minutes until your production conference. Enough time to grab something to eat since you’d skipped breakfast—thanks to Jungkook’s insistence on christening yet another room in your new house this morning. The laundry room, this time. And as it turns out, sex on top of a dryer was a lot better and less uncomfortable than you’d expected.

Jimin took your laptop from your hands, giving you a soft smile. "I’ll drop this off at your office. Hobi and I are heading that way."

You nodded in thanks, turning back to Sehun, only to catch Jungkook’s eyes glaring at you from behind the tech leader’s frame. His brows were furrowed, a silent question written all over his face—what the fuck are you doing?

Ignoring your fuming boyfriend, you refocused on Sehun. "You alright?" you asked.

Sehun nodded quickly. "Yeah, I just—" He started to say more but stopped abruptly, his body stiffening as if he could feel Jungkook's glare on the back of his neck. Turning, he blinked, clearly startled to see the CEO still there. "Oh—hi, sir. Once again, I’m so sorry about—"

"It’s okay, Sehun-ssi," you cut him off, drawing his attention back to you. "I need to grab something to eat. Is this important?"

Sehun shifted nervously. "Ah, well... it can wait." His ears were going red again. "How much time do you have? Did you want to stop by the cafe on level 10 before your conference? I was heading there anyway—"

At that, Jungkook’s head snapped up, his gaze zeroing in as he pushed himself off the table. You stepped around Sehun, positioning yourself between him and your clearly furious boyfriend.

"No, thank you, Sehun. I’ll catch you later, okay?" You kept your tone light, ignoring the fact that you had definitely not told him that you were on your way to a conference.

Sehun, still a bit confused, turned slightly to see what had you moving so quickly. And that’s when he saw it—Jungkook’s dark, cold glare burning holes through him. Before Sehun could stutter another word, Jungkook’s eyes flicked down to you, noting the goosebumps on your arms. He grabbed the jacket from your hands and silently made you slip your arms into it.

That’s when the realization hit Sehun like a fucking brick.

His face went ghostly pale, and you could visibly see him swallow nervously. "Oh my god… are you—are you two—"

You nodded simply, sliding your arms into the jacket as Jungkook remained silently brooding behind you.

"I—I am so—sir, I’m so sorry! I would never—"

"Sehun-ssi, it’s fine." You gave him a polite, almost bored smile. "Let's talk later."

Sehun barely managed a shaky nod before he bolted, red-faced and flustered, out of the room.

"You’re such a jealous psycho," you muttered under your breath, turning to face Jungkook, who was still fuming quietly. You puckered your lips for a kiss.

Jungkook just glared, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before leaning down to give you a quick, soft peck. You frowned, leaning in for another, but he pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Why’d you sit there?" he asked, glancing down at your jacket, noticing you hadn’t done up the top two buttons. When he reached to fasten them, you smacked his hand away, refusing to let him make you look like a nun.

"Because your girlfriend was in my usual seat," you shot back, poking him in the stomach before turning on your heel and heading toward the door.

"And I’m the jealous one?" he muttered, flicking the lights off as he followed behind you.

"Yes," you hummed, walking down the now-empty hall, clear of all the departmental seniors and visitors.

You reached the elevator when Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek as you reached out to press the down arrow.

"That poor boy almost pissed himself because of you."

"I felt like I was very soft on him," Jungkook shrugged, taking a deep inhale of your honey scented skin before pressing a kiss to your neck and standing upright. His hands slipped under your jacket to rest on your belly over your blouse, his fingers grazing your skin gently. "Could’ve been a lot worse."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t resist the urge to look up at his adorable pout. You puckered your lips again, and this time, he gave in, leaning down for a proper kiss. Spinning in his arms, his hands fell naturally to rest on your ass as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

A soft moan escaped your lips when his tongue slid between them, licking into your mouth in the way only he could. It felt like only milliseconds before the elevator dinged, snapping you back to reality. You reluctantly pulled away, biting his lip gently before spinning around to face the opening doors.

The elevator revealed Kim Namjoon, standing there with his head tilted, eyebrow raised. "Jungkook-ah, the board is waiting. Answer your fuckin' phone, man," the CCO huffed, gesturing for you both to step inside with a hurried wave of his hand.

You smiled at Namjoon and walked into the elevator, Jungkook right behind you. His hand found its way back to your belly, rubbing absentmindedly as you hit the button for level 12.

Namjoon scrolled through something on his phone, snickering. "What time are you planning on getting there tonight, Kook? The RSVP says 6, but they don’t start serving drinks until 8, so I'll be there around 9," he chuckled.

Your ears perked up at the mention of the event. You fiddled with Jungkook’s tattooed fingers on your stomach, glancing up at him as you waited for him to respond.

"For what?" Jungkook asked, not looking up from his phone.

You almost frowned at his response. He already told you he had a sponsorship function tonight. Jungkook never forgets things like that.

Namjoon barely glanced up. "That promo celebration for the girl taking over for Sana-ssi?" He explained, locking his phone and leaning back. "Shit, I forgot if we need to bring gifts. I'll check with my assistant—"

You didn’t hear anything after that. Everything faded, the muffled sounds of the elevator blending together like white noise. Jungkook’s hand stiffened against your stomach, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

He hadn’t gotten his schedule mixed up. He knew damn well what event Namjoon was referring to. The "sponsorship function" was actually a celebration for that dirty slut from level 7, and that dirty slut from level 7 had gotten a permanent promotion, which would bring her even closer when fucking working with him.

The elevator doors slid open, and without a second thought, you shoved Jungkook’s hand off you and stormed out.

"Baby," Jungkook was immediately on your tail, ignoring Namjoon’s confused calls from behind.

"Wh— Jungkook-ah? What the fuck? Where are you going?"

"Baby, wait." Jungkook's voice was tense as he caught up to you, but when his hand reached out to grab your arm, you shoved it off aggressively.

"I’m so fucking serious right now, don’t touch me, Jungkook." You spat, whipping around to face him. He just shook his head, trying to step closer, but you put your hand up, keeping him at a distance. "I’m not fucking kidding—"

"Baby, listen to me—" he tried, his voice urgent.

"Get the fuck away from me," you snapped, digging into your pocket for your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. "God, you know I fucking hate it when you lie, and you just—" You groaned, your fist tightening around your phone as you shoved his hands off you once again.

"Who are you texting?" Jungkook frowned, trying to get a look at your phone over your shoulder.

"None of your fucking business," you spat, stepping out of his reach.

"Y/N, don't. If you're not going to let me explain—"

"My mom," you snapped sarcastically, your fingers flying across the screen as you started typing. "They finally adapted technology so you can get cell reception six feet underground now. It's great."

Jungkook scoffed, clearly unamused, but he continued following closely behind you as you started walking again. "If you can lie to me, then I can fucking lie to you, right?" you added mockingly.

He tried to grab your phone, but you dodged him, sending the message just in time. His jaw tightened when he saw the screen. "Like hell you’re sleeping at Jimin’s tonight, are you fucking crazy?"

"Well, I’m not staying in a house with a fucking liar, that’s for sure," you shot back, your tone sharp as you moved further away from him.

"You’re not staying at Jimin’s," he repeated firmly, his voice absolute.

His certainty made you laugh bitterly. "I’m staying at Jimin’s or I’m staying at Hyungwon’s. You fucking choose."

Jungkook’s fists clenched at his sides, his face hardening in disbelief. "Why the fuck would you say that, Y/N?"

"I don't have anywhere to go, Jungkook!" Your voice rose, frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. You could feel eyes on you from the staff scattered around the floor, but you didn’t care. "You are my home. I don’t have anywhere else to fucking—"

Jungkook’s expression softened when your voice broke, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He stepped closer, his hands slipping under your jacket, palms smoothing down your hips. "Then don't fucking go, baby. Just don’t go anywhere, please. Don’t go to Jimin’s." He begged.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the warmth of his hands, the familiar comfort of his body close to yours. His face rested in the crook of your neck, and despite your anger, you found yourself leaning into him slightly, knowing full well that getting to your conference on time now was just a lost cause.

"Tell me why you lied then," you mumbled, your voice quieter, your sniffles betraying you.

Jungkook pulled back, his thumbs swiping gently under your eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fully form. His fingers brushed under your nose as he wiped away the dribble there. "Because I knew it would upset you. We’ve been doing so well in our new place, baby—I didn’t want anything to ruin it." His voice was soft, almost pleading. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was only going to make an appearance and come home straight away."

You studied his face, your own expression softening despite the anger still bubbling inside you. You understood him, you really did. But you still hated when he lied. "Then why didn’t you just ask me to go with you?" Your voice wavered, doubt creeping in despite yourself. "Did you... not want to be seen with me?"

You didn’t even know where the self-doubt was coming from. Jungkook loved you. He loved letting people know you were his. He didn’t care who was around when he kissed you or rested a hand on your body, claiming you without shame. But something about Heejin… She got under your skin in a way that you couldn’t describe. Maybe it was because she’d been here longer, known him longer. She was going to be in meetings with him now—department head meetings, one-on-one meetings. The thought alone made you feel sick.

Jungkook sighed, his hands cupping your cheeks, and pressed two quick, soft kisses on your lips. "Don’t say dumb shit like that," he murmured, his voice soft but firm. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. "I wanted to have a joint office, but you said that was unprofessional or whatever." He rolled his eyes, giving you a little smirk.

You blinked, hugging your arms around yourself, stepping back a little. "Then why?" Your voice was quieter now, laced with the confusion and hurt you couldn’t hide. "Why didn’t you want me to go? I’ve gone with you to plenty of functions."

Jungkook hesitated, and you felt the tension settle back into the air between you. His silence weighed heavy, and that familiar twist of anxiety and anger began to gnaw at you again.

"It’s because of Hyungwon, isn’t it?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer. "You didn’t want me to go because people from his firm are going to be there, and he could be too, right?"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening slightly as he averted your gaze. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence confirmed everything.

You let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head. Not only did he keep you away from a party celebrating the one woman you couldn’t stand the most when it came to him, but he also made sure you didn’t go because of the one man he had a problem with the most when it came to you was attending.

"Fucking hypocrite," you muttered, stepping further back from him, your stomach turning in disgust.

"Baby, it’s not like that—" he started, his tone filled with urgency.

"Then what is it like, Jungkook?" Your voice rose again, frustration spilling out as you threw your hands up. "You didn’t tell me about the party because you knew it would piss me off that it’s for Heejin. But you also didn’t want me to go because there was a chance Hyungwon could be there! So, what? I can’t go because you have a problem, but I’m supposed to sit at home and wait for you like a fucking housewife while you go to a party for a bitch that you know I can’t stand? How the fuck does that make sense?"

Jungkook’s face was a mixture of guilt and frustration. He took a step toward you, but you held up your hand again, stopping him in his tracks.

"God, can you just go away?" you spat, your voice trembling slightly as you felt the tears begin to well up again. Shaking your head, you started to walk away.

"Baby," Jungkook grunted, his frustration growing as he followed you.

"No, Jungkook. I need space. Seriously." You didn’t even turn around, your voice sharp as you neared your office.

"We don’t do space. That’s not how we work," he argued, right behind you.

"Well, maybe we need to start doing space," you snapped, reaching for the door handle.

Before you could pull the door open, Jungkook grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him. His eyes were intense, wild, like he was barely keeping himself together. "If you keep walking away from me, I'm going to follow you into that conference room and make you sit in my fucking lap during your entire presentation."

The seriousness in his voice made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept your expression blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop. "I can’t have you two in the same room, Y/N." His voice was low, almost dangerous, as if just saying Hyungwon’s name triggered something in him.

You just blinked, still silent.

“If I see him anywhere near you, I’ll kill him.” Jungkook said it simply, like it was just another fact. “I wouldn’t regret it. But they probably won’t let you stay in my cell with me, would they, baby?” His brows furrowed, head tilting as he asked, like he was genuinely curious to know the answer.

a/n i cut it here because the rest is nawttt edited at all and very rough 😬 but any takers on a part 3 ??!!?! just give me 6 months and it's all yours xx

[oceantornadoo]

bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)

honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.

“you ate my last cookie?”

soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.

“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.

“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.

“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.

you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”

he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.

finally you were at peace, and all because of him.

[ohmy-gojo]

(pt.2)

jjk as cats with you as their caretaker au

you were just a simple employee at a cat adoption center. for most people it would be a dream, getting paid to take care of kitties? hell yeah. it was yours for a long time, but now..

"satoru, suguru. how many times have i told you both to not go outside?"

the white and black cats stared at you sheepishly, caught red handed trying to leave the shop. you had closed the shop, which meant no going out now. they both were the troublesome duo, always causing chaos. satoru tried to appease you by rubbing his head in your leg which made you crouch down and pat his head. this action however irked suguru, causing him to meow angrily at the white cat and jump to your arms

"oh hush, stop being so possessive suguru. satoru deserves love too, everyone deserves love here," you paused then took them both in your lap "well everyone except sukuna, thats why hes in the cage."

at your words the unusually colored red cat hissed angrily, giving you a stink eye. can cats even make such expressions? you honestly dont know. maybe the lack of sleep is getting to you. satoru and suguru simultaneously looked at him haughtily, flexing to not be stuck in the cage, rather in your arms

"everyone should be like kento here, hes such a good cat. isnt that right ken?"

you left the black and white cats to check kento— whom you affectionately call ken, sitting in his cat couch unbothered. you in fact have nicknames for every cats here but only call them that when theyre not being naughty. which means you call kento 'ken' all the time, much to the annoyance (and jealousy) of other cats

satoru and suguru's faces fell at the sight of you leaving them, giving a whining mewl. sukuna smirked at their frowny faces. 'heh.. karma' he thought in cat language

you took kento in your arms and gave him rubs. "youre such a good boy ken, arent you? yes you are, yes you are!— the goodest boy,"

kento preened at your words and huddled closer to your arms. hes always on his best behavior to get this treatment. he looked down on satoru and suguru, giving them a look of superiority

you were now walking around with kento in your arms, you already closed the shop so you just gotta leave for home. suddenly you remembered about the other cat, choso. whom you haven't seen in quite some moments

"shit!" you hastily put kento down much to his dismay "have any of you seen choso??""

sometimes you thought you were going crazy. here you were asking them questions as if they could answer. maybe you should quit and start therapy

but thats a problem for later! now you had a cat to find. in a hurry you accidentally stepped on something.. soft. which was chosos tail, he hissed in pain from his position under the chair where he was sleeping

at this satoru, suguru, sukuna laughed. even kento let out a quiet snort. in cat language of course. they already knew where choso was, opting to stay quiet instead.

"im so so sorry cho!!" you held the brown cat face to face with you, "forgive me?"

the brown cat pouted at you before finally accepting your apology with a quiet meow. you smiled happily and peppered his face with kisses. choso was now a happy cat. the others? well not so

sukuna, sick of you giving all these stray cats (deregatory) affection meowed loudly to get your attention. he then did something he absolutely hated but since he was desperate... he gave you kitty eyes (cat version of puppy eyes) you stared at him for some time before sighing heavily

"yeah yeah, im gonna get you out now. maybe don't scare away customers anymore?" you rolled you eyes but took out the keys to unlock his cage, he knew this method would work. "but who am i telling this, you still gonna do that no?"

sukuna just stared at you innocently, tilting his head. you scoffed but took him in your arms at the same time. you looked down at the four other felines who were at your feet, eager to be picked up. they were truly spoiled. weird thing is, they only ever acted this clingy and affectionate towards you, not other people or even their owner, mr. gege (they hated him for some reason, especially satoru). you stared at their hopeful blinking eyes and sighed again

"okay okay, you all can come to stay at my home tonight."

they all cheered. you once again thought you were mad to think cats can cheer. but oh well.

[cheesit-notes]

TASK FORCE 141

and how they fuck you

cw: MDNI!, fem reader, rough fucking, raw dogging it, riding (cowgirl), finger fucking, slow ghost, thigh riding, fucking in front of recruits a/n: teehee pls don't ban me for this Tumblr, this is 18+

soap who likes fucking you rough, and even rougher when in front of the recruits. not really into condoms, likes it raw kinda guy you know? don't worry, he'll do tons of foreplay for you. kisses trail from your face down to your thighs. will get down on his knees to eat you out, and mind you, he's as good as he says. he honestly forgets about any forms and sorts of dirty talk at this point because he's too busy, your moans do most of the talking. by the time you're ready, he's already superr impatient. his pants strained and he's leaking precum like a faucet, he's been so patient up until now so he feels like he deserves a reward. his reward being he gets to ram his cock into you with little to no warning^^ if you think being fucked hard and rough is the end of it, you're wrong. he's a cocky fucker, he'll fuck you in front of the recruits just to show them who's better.

gaz who has you ride him, cowgirl style. you could be on the couch in the common area or in his barracks on the bed, doesn’t matter. he’ll sit there and watch as you do all the work. at first you’re doing so well and he’s praising you for it but after a while, you start to get tired :( poor you. he knows when you’re slowing down and he can get soo mean. a hand on your hip as he instructs you to go faster, harder, until he has you slammed down, bottoming out in you. the entire time, he’s spitting out insults about how you can’t do something as simple as riding him properly. cums inside you, sticky hot white cum drips down your thighs as you try to get up before his hands force you down on him again. he’s just trying to keep the cum where it belongs so let him fuck it back into you, yeah?

ghost who, surprisingly, likes fucking you slow. really slow. so slow in fact you start begging him to go faster. it feels like he’s teasing you with how little he’s giving you, but he’s enjoying it. there’s two position you’re in: on your knees taking him from behind with his hand on your stomach, or on your back with his thumb pressed over your abdomen. has at least a finger over your stomach to feel the bulge as he slides in and out. shit gets him high. calls you his little doll ‘cause you’re honestly just laying there letting him do whatever. he cums just from feeling the bulge that’s his cock in your stomach. even after he’s all soft, he’ll still shove some fingers in. he’ll curl his fingers and they’re so big and fat, and god, even his fingers stretch you out. this’ll go on for hours until you’re a babbling crying mess who came just from some fingers. he’s got all the time in the world to play with his doll.

captain price who’s a more hands-off kinda guy. he won’t even fuck you until you’ve cum from riding his thigh. making a mess over his pants as your legs tremble from the sensation. shoves toys in your cunt in the morning, “quiet, i’know you can take it”, so by nighttime you’ll be all wet for him! he’s not rough like soap, and not slow like ghost, he’s just normal fucking. not too rough, not too slow, just right. trust, he’s got tons of experience so he knows how to please a woman. if there’s one thing to complain about, it’s his death grip on your thighs. it doesn’t stop at red markings that last for hours or days, there are bruises on your thighs that can last up to weeks. he takes making you unable to sit normally to a whole new level. price is like soap in some ways, he wants to show people that he’s superior but not as obvious as soap. he won’t fuck you in front of the recruits, but you will be riding his thigh during briefings with the team.

[luveline]

could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333

thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k

You bend forward and breathe. 

Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent. 

Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks. 

“Hotch?” you ask. 

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” 

Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.” 

You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.” 

You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands. 

Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it. 

“What happened?” 

“They were kissing.” 

Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?” 

“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…” 

“Are you sure?” 

“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…” 

You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose? 

“They were too close,” you say more firmly. 

“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.” 

“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon. 

“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?” 

“You think I’m overreacting.” 

Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.” 

You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?” 

“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open. 

“Well… perhaps you can–”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.” 

You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

“What did JJ do?” you ask. 

“Angel?” 

He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.” 

He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath. 

“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence. 

“I didn’t really look.” 

Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?” 

You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.  

“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.

“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says. 

Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?” 

You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm. 

“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble. 

Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy. 

If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him. 

“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks. 

“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely. 

Footsteps. A door opening. 

You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?” 

“Can you hug me?” 

“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.” 

“I am?” 

“Just a little…” 

You try your best to stand completely still. 

“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.” 

It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better. 

“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.” 

“Can I explain it to you later?” 

“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. 

You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers with a significant other who is a cam girl and wants them to be in one of their videos? 💃

2 posts in 2 days who do I think I am? See ya'll in a year! /j

CW: NSFW

You do Cam Work and Ask the Slashers to be in your Videos:

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is pretty conservative when it come to sex and such, but he's come around to your cam work, especially since you let him help with the details.

You like when he picks what you were or what scene you might do. You made Thomas feel like a part of it and that made him comfortable with it.

Still, he's very surprised when you ask if he wants to do a video with you. He refuses immediately and you respect that.

You ask again a while later but with more details. Like nobody would know who he was, you would keep his face out of the shot, and the two of you will do whatever he is comfortable with.

Your first video with him is of you riding him. His head isn't in the shot but the rest of his frame is. The size difference goes hard and your audience agrees.

Thomas is a flustered mess when you sit to read with comments with him. Everyone is talking about the new man in your video, gushing about how big he is and how attentive he is. Even with his size it seems your audience could sense his gentle soul, commenting on the chemistry you both have and how they would love to see him again!

Thanks to all the lovely comments, Thomas agrees to do another video even if he doesn't see himself putting his face on camera any time soon.

Michael Myers

Michael honestly does not care that you do cam work.

When you first ask him to be in a video, he pretty much ignores it.

But when you ask again some time later he doesn't see why not.

As long as his face isn't in the video or anything, you can film it, he doesn't really care.

The videos you make with him afterwards are pretty similar to your first video with him.

Usually you bent over while Michael fucks you to tears.

Michael is barely in the shot most of the time. Sometimes it just a close up on you, other times it includes Michael but only ever getting at high as his chest.

Everyone is obsessed with your mystery man. Where did he come from? What was that scar from? Can we see more of him please!!!

Jason Voorhees

We all know that Jason's comfort levels with sex is extremely low and it takes a while for him to become comfortable with physical intimacy. So cam work is certainly going to take some time for him to come around to.

And once he's become more comfortable with that, it's going to take a whole lot longer before he feels comfortable being in a video.

When he does decide to give it a go, he is a real hit!

He refuses to show his face on camera and you do whatever it takes to make sure he is as comfortable as possible.

Before Jason says you can use his name in videos and descriptions, your audience referred to him as 'the gentle giant', which is completely accurate!

No matter your usual content, Jason is nothing but gentle with you when he's in a video.

Brahms Heelshire

Watches your videos over and over again, he loves them. He'll watch you record them and watch them later once you've posted them. He can't get enough.

He's already got his pants off when you ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. You end up fucking even though you're not filming it.

He actually doesn't have much of a problem with having his face on camera. He's still a little insecure about his facial burns but you have alleviated most of that by this point.

And after the first video and he reads all those positive comments. Some are as horny for him as they are for you.

Fully embraces his new pornstar identity. He's insufferable.

He'll be in any video you want and your audience love watching you take care of your needy brat.

Bo Sinclair

Bo is in fully support of your work, it brings some money in and he gets to watch your videos. Even if his possessiveness still often gets the better of him. Whenever he reads comments of people praising you, Bo has an insatiable need to bend you over something just to prove a point.

Gets all cocky and arrogant when you ask if he wants to be in a video.

Needless to say, he agrees to do it.

And he takes to it pretty easily. He knows how to get all of his favourite reactions from you, how to get you pleading and begging for him, and he wants everyone watching to know.

Bo is arrogant and always smirking when the camera is on but it performs well.

He likes to how the camera and film himself entering you. He really does have a terrible ego.

Vincent Sinclair

It gets Vincent flustered, he could admit that, but he appreciates the artistic side of it all. It takes more effort and consideration than one might think!

He likes helping you get ready for a video and taking care of you afterwards.

He's hesitant when you first ask if he wants to be in a video. A part of him wants to do it with you but he's not confident enough in himself.

But he loves making you feel good and at this point he knows he's good at it, so he gives it a try. You can film them without posting them after all, like practise runs.

He may never show his face but he doesn't mind having his body on camera. Sometimes he even just hides his face with his hair instead of keeping his head out of the shot completely.

On Vincent's more self-conscious days, he'll film close ups of him fingering you instead.

He's very good with his hands and your audience agrees. They are very jealous of you.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is pretty neutral on your work, but of course he absolutely loves your videos.

He's mostly just surprised and flustered when you first ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. He thinks you're perfect so he understands why people would want to watch you, but he doesn't really see why people would want to watch him.

But he still agrees to it because he's your biggest supporter!!!

Your audience love the chemistry and intimacy between you both, leaving comments about how real your videos feel.

The videos that perform best are usually the ones where the two of you forgot you were even filming, just giggling together and enjoying each other. Lester gets all nervous and shy when the camera turns on, which is adorable, but forgetting that the camera is there really does help him perform better, the sweetheart.

Your audience love your more thought out and planned videos but appreciate the occasional more relaxed video with your sweet boyfriend.

Bubba Sawyer

Super flustered by your work but he's supportive.

Is super surprised and nervous when you ask if he wants to be in a video.

He agrees to give it a try once you explain that you can always delete it and nobody has to see it if he changes his mind or doesn't like it.

Bubba is just a big sweetie really, and you know just how to turn him into a squirming, blubbering mess.

And your audience love to watch you do it!

In later video's you do, you use the viewers' comments to fluster him even further. Using all the kindest and sweetest comments that say how lovely he is .

Come on, Bubs, they love you, they're being so nice. Why don't you say thank you?

Billy Lenz

Billy loves watching your videos and when you ask if he wants to be in a video with you, he is so excited!

He's completely down to make some home videos but he's a little unsure about putting it online for other people to see.

So you make it so his face isn't visible and let him watch the final edit before uploading it. He thinks it's so hot, he can't say no.

Honestly, you could do really well with just audios alone though. People will go wild for it. Billy unable to keep his mouth shut, all those desperate moans and whines and noises, the sticky wet slapping of skin. Honestly, a video element is just a bonus at this point.

And who gets off to the video the most? Billy obviously!

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Asa monitors your accounts anyway, even if you don't know it. He wants to know what you're posting and how people are responding. Don't want any bullies or trolls, right?

He's probably tried to manipulate you into suggesting it anyway.

He doesn't have much of a problem with your cam work, he's just a possessive bastard and would love to claim you in front of your entire audience.

The mask stays on!

Okay, he designs a new mask to avoid any chance of self criminalisation but whatever.

You two can make it big in BDSM communities.

Ties you up, blindfolds you, gags you. Whatever he feels like, but often seems to focus the camera on your reactions rather than on what he is doing to you. Studying his favourite little specimen.

Your audience already adored you of course, but they also love this new Dom you brought it.

There is no doubt as to who you belong to now.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Obviously Jesse has no problem with being on camera and he already has a pretty big ego, so he'll probably even wear the Chromeskull mask. It's his signature whether it's for his snuff films or your cam work.

Like Asa, you do absolute numbers in the BDSM community. Everyone is very pleased with his fully suited up, masked Dom that you brought in.

He already has his Chromeskull persona all fleshed out so he just brings that energy to your videos.

He's a sadistic Dom and you might have to upload an Aftercare video at some point just to reassure your more loyal audience that you're alright and always well taken care of afterwards.

Otis Driftwood

Is obviously a fan of your videos and isn't going to stop you from making them. You aren't actually fucking anyone else, so he's cool with it. And if he feels particularly jealous or possessive at some point, he knows he's the only one who can actually pin you down and have his way with you.

Oh yeah, he's down to make a few videos with you. He's probably got some old tapes of his own somewhere, long forgotten. He's not shy.

Says the filthiest shit, it kinda becomes his think on your platform.

Otis can be absolutely disgusting but, fortunately, there is an audience for that and they flood to your videos.

Calls you all sorts of names, asks you if you get off on knowing everyone is going to watch him fuck you. That everyone is going to see all the things you let him do to you.

Baby Firefly

Baby loves that you do cam work, she loves performing. She happily does your hair and makeup, she helps you pick out costumes and which toys you'll use in that video.

Hell, she's even filmed a video or two for you!

She's your number one supporter so of course she jumps on camera as soon as you ask if she wants to be in a video.

The two of you are all dolled up and she's magnetic, the audience love her as much as they love you.

The two of you are absolute menaces if you decide to do a livestream, pulling in huge donations because Baby is going to pout and taunt. Why should the two of you put on a show if they're not showing their appreciation properly?

Baby is the type to respond to very low donations with "it's alright, you can just say you're poor". She never promised to play nice and she just thinks you're worth more than that!!!

You end up apologising for her.

People are into it though.

Yautja (Predator)

Your mate doesn't quite get it but he's cool with it.

Is hard as soon as you ask if he wants to be in a video. Yautja's aren't very conservative or prudish when it comes to sex and nudity, so you weren't too surprised.

He loves the thought of taking you, of claiming you, and everyone knowing that you're his mate. That he's a worthy mate for you.

Even when he's a regular feature in your videos, he doesn't completely understand it, he just knows he's into it.

Everyone loves to watch you try to take him fully, the struggle, the determination, the satisfaction when you manage it.

You have cornered the Monster Fucker market. They don't know if it's real, if it's a very elaborate costume, or very realistic animation, either way they are eating it up.

All the other performers who use alien dildos and such are super jealous, obviously.

[rowarn]

TAKING WHAT YOU NEED (m.)

tags: afab!reader, no prns, a smidgen of hurt/comfort, soft!simon as usual, established relationship

cw: wet&messy, masturbation(reader), multiple orgasms, riding him<3, u pin him down and he lets u, creampie, simons uncut bc i said so, tiny praise, overstimulation

note: i wrote this against my will it was supposed to be simon bein lazy and making u ride him and do the work and it turned into a sickening beast. please enjoy it. MDNI!

; in which ur terribly horny and neglected for simon but hes so busy and tired u have no choice but to take what u need &lt;/3

3.5k words

he's been so busy lately, almost distant without meaning to. you still get the sweet little bits of affection he always gives; a kiss to your forehead, and soft hand on your back when he passes behind you in the kitchen, your hand wrapped in his while u watch tv late at night, his hand petting your hair as you lay against his chest in bed.

but you want more, you're greedy.

it's been days since he last touched you. you're not used to the dry spells, simon always willing and ready to fuck u stupid into the mattress until u cant keep your eyes open anymore.

ur fingers simply could never compare to his. he's a man who studied your body, spent the better part at the beginning of your relationship playing with you and learning what exactly made you cum the hardest and easiest -- what your favorite spots and positions were. ur fingers tired quickly, leaving you with an orgasm u knew would be better if simon was the one with his fingers buried in your pussy

what did he expect you to do, honestly? when he came out of the shower with his towel low on his hips? his back to you as he rifled through his drawers looking for something comfy to sleep in, his back muscles flexing with the movement? were you just supposed to be able to roll over and sleep, go take a shower and act as if your panties weren't sticking to you from looking at him?

you wanted him so badly that it actually brought tears to your eyes. you didn't care how silly it was; you wanted him so bad it hurt.

"si..." you whimper, unable to stop how your voice wobbled when you spoke.

his head snaps back to look over his shoulder, brown eyes wide in concern. he briskly walked to the edge of the bed where you crawled to, sitting on your knees looking up at him pitifully.

"what is it, love? what's wrong?" his eyebrows were furrowed as he cupped your cheek, thumbing over the soft skin as his eyes analyzed every inch of you for signs of injury -- a little habit he always had.

"wan' you," you whine, placing your hands flat on his chest, moving down over his stomach where his abs flexed under the ticklish touch.

he scoffs, rolling his eyes before batting your hands away, "thought you were actually upset."

he sounds a little miffed, turning his back to you again to pull out the pair of sweats he had been eyeballing. he lets his towel fall and pauses when he hears you actually whine.

he says your name low in his chest, a warning. whether he actually wants you to stop because he's not in the mood or he just doesn't want to get started with it, you don't know. but it makes you pout a little, flopping back in the bed with a huff.

you hear simon shuffling about, getting changed into the sweats before turning off all the lights, save for a little nightlight you keep on beside you until you're ready to sleep -- on the dimmer side so it doesn't bother simon while he sleeps.

he crawls into bed with a sigh, leaning over where you're still pouting into the pillows to kiss your temple.

"i'm just tired, love," he coos, no malice or annoyance to be found in his voice. his hand comes up to rub your back and you fucking whine again, making him pause, "pouting like this is a little pathetic."

he's teasing you, you can hear the huff of a laugh under his voice. tears prick your eyes again and you petulantly push his hands away to sit up. he's leaning back against the headboard, staring straight at you.

"it's not my fault you've been neglecting me!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest.

he actually throws his head back and laughs, "neglecting you? 'cause i haven't given you dick in a few days?"

"it's been more than a few days!" you spit back. although he's taking your bratty behavior in stride, you're actually a little annoyed.

he rolls his eyes and holds back a yawn, "you'll live. just...use that little vibrator you've got, it'll get the job done."

he goes to roll over and go to sleep but you make a noise that doesn't sound like your usual pouting -- it sounds actually upset. it pauses him in his tracks and he looks at you through the dim lighting.

"it's not just that," you mumble, flopping forward to smush your cheek against his chest, "i wanna have sex because i like being close to you, si...of course it feels amazing but i like being connected with you like that....'cause i love you."

he's still for a moment before his hand finds purchase on your back, softly rubbing against you in slow circles. he hums in his chest and kisses the crown of your head.

"'m sorry, love," he coos, "didn't think about that."

"it's okay..." you mutter before sobering up and sitting up to smile at him, "u get some sleep, i'm gonna go...take a shower."

he watches you crawl out of bed and root through your drawer, pulling out that vibrator he just mentioned and slink into the bathroom. it makes his heart ache a little but he slowly lies back against his pillow. his eyelids grow heavy as he lays there and before he knows it, he falls asleep.

he wakes again when you crawl back into bed, the smell of soap still fresh and wafting off of you. you keep your back to him as you curl into yourself in that cute little way that you do. it makes him drowsily smile to himself before he closes his eyes again.

but he can't fall asleep. you begin shifting and fidgeting almost as soon as he settles, it keeps him awake. he wonders what the problem is but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

you roll onto your back and he hears you sigh to yourself. his eyes crack open and he sees you staring at the ceiling. you glance over at him, not seeing the way his eyes are ever so slightly open.

he watches you slowly spread your thighs and your hand slide under the blanket, watches the way your brows furrow as you begin to slowly work at yourself.

his cock twitches in his pants; as tired as he is, no man would be able to sit there like nothing was happening while watching the one he adored touch themself.

he watches you, vaguely hears the wet, sticky noises of you touching yourself. he wonders if you're just working your clit in tiny little circles or if you've maybe stuffed a finger or two inside to get the feeling of being stretched. his cock hardens even further against his thigh and the sleepiness he felt begins to melt away but he can't bring himself to fully open his heavy lids.

after a few minutes, you make a frustrated little huff and pull your hand out from under the blanket, using a tissue on your night table to wipe your fingers off before flopping back into bed. you don't make another move to touch yourself, instead stare into the very dimly lit room in what he can fully understand is frustration. he even hears your sniffle a little bit.

his heart gives a painful little tug. he watches you close your eyes and obviously attempt to fall asleep. his own cock is throbbing by now and he's sure you're uncomfortably wet.

"got a problem, love?" he asks softly, voice thick and heavy with sleep.

he sees you jump and your eyes snap open before you look at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. how cute, he thinks.

"si?" you whisper, "did i wake you? i'm sorry..."

he can actually hear the guilt in your voice as you apologize, "all your tossin' and turnin', not a man in the world woulda been able to sleep through it," you look even guiltier and he reaches out to place his hand over yours that's on your stomach above the blanket, "thought you went and took a shower to take care of that problem?"

you look almost defeated and shrug, then a look of embarrassment crosses your face and he feels the need to click his tongue and tell you none of that, but you speak before he can, "couldn't um...you know...finish..."

he's quiet when you say that. he could tell, obviously. the way you pulled your hand out of your panties and nearly cried in frustration. he huffs through his nose in a noise you mistake for annoyance and give him a sheepish, half-hearted smile.

"sorry, si," you mutter, leaning over to kiss his nose, "i'll be still so go back to sleep, 'kay?"

he watches you lean over and flick the switch to your little nightlight, plunging the bedroom into complete darkness at last. he feels you shift one last time and then nothing.

he should simply go to sleep, he needs sleep. he's got a busy day ahead of him, like always. his hard on is starting to flag from watching the sad little display of you so embarrassed and disheartened. he could easily close his eyes and drift off, get his precious z's in.

but he just can't. knowing that you're going to sleep with sticky panties and completely unsatisfied because you can't seem to make yourself cum despite how badly he knows you need it.

he sits up and leans over you, hearing you make a confused little noise before he flicks the dim little light back on. you're staring at him in confusion but he doesn't offer any answers as he grabs your arm and hoists you out of the blanket you'd nestled yourself under. you let him manhandle you until you're sitting on his lap with him laid back in his pillows still.

"let's get this off you, love," he mutters, hands sliding up the t-shirt of his that you wore.

you make another confused noise but let him strip the fabric off of you anyway, "si..? what are you doing?"

"what do you think?" he asks, shoving the blankets away from him and haphazardly tugging the band of his sweats down so his half-hard cock is freed.

"y-you should be sleeping, si, really--" he interrupts you by forcing you to stand on your knees so he can tug your panties down and off.

you're so wet that there’s a mess of stickiness that clings to the fabric, making little strings that break when he pulls them down all the way.

"fuckin' hell, love," he whispers, his cock quickly hardening completely once again against his stomach, "you were plannin' to sleep while you were this fuckin' wet?"

you look sheepish again, "w-what else was i supposed to do..?"

he grits his teeth because he knows you're right; he hadn't exactly done anything except brush you off and tell you to deal with it yourself. it wasn't like he gave you the green light to ask him for help.

"sorry, love," he whispers, cupping the back of your head to tug you down for a kiss, "shouldn't 'ave been such an ass."

"wha-?" you shake your head, "you weren't, si. you were tired and i was just bein’ too needy."

he huffs out of his nose and grabs your hips, shifting so you sit directly on top of his heavy cock. your eyes roll back a little at the feeling of his hot length against your sensitive cunt.

"nah, was bein' selfish," he mutters, "knew you wanted it 'nd i chose to sleep. you even told me you just wanted to be close with me and i shrugged it off. i've missed you too, love, you know?"

"really?" you ask softly and his heart gives that painful throb in his chest again. had you doubted him? that didn't sit right with him.

"course..." he whispers, biting his lip. he wasn't used to being vulnerable and open with his feelings, so being put on the spot while telling you how he missed you made an uncomfortable feeling stir in his chest.

quickly understanding this, you shift against his cock, grinding your hips back and forth in smooth, slow motions. it makes his head sink back into the pillow; you're so wet that you slide effortless against him, covering him in a coat of slick juices. your motions also make his foreskin slide along his length as well, making him twitch every time the leaky head is stroked.

"fuckin' hell..." he groans through gritted teeth, "c'mon love, you do the work, yeah?"

you desperately nod your head and stand on your knees, gripping his cock to line him up with your entrance. he stops you for a moment with a hand on your wrist, a little glare in his eyes.

"you need prep?" he asks, a sweet little question that makes your heart melt despite yourself.

simon was a lot to take, thick and long. he always bumped against your back wall before he even fully bottomed out. the stretch was a sting that always made you both pause until it went away lest it hurt too much to continue.

you shake your head, "i-i used the toy and my fingers...earlier..." you remind him.

his grip on your wrist slackens at that and you take the chance to slowly and carefully sink down on him, jaw dropping open at the feeling of being stretched so fully by him after however many days.

you're greedy and needy, not even pausing as you quickly descend and take more and more of him in. it's faster than you usually handle it and he moves quickly to grab your hips and stop you, intent on making you take a second to adjust before taking all of him that you can.

you make a strangled noise akin to a sob in your chest and look at him with angry little tears in your eyes. the sight makes him pause and his cock twitch.

you slap his hands away harshly and continue taking all of him despite his apparent protests. he's taken aback by the little show of aggression.

"shit, love," he growls, brows furrowed, "is that how it is then?"

you nod your head and let your eyes roll back. it wasn't very often that you got to ride him, simon was more of a 'do all the work' type of man but this position definitely allowed you to take more of him than you usually could when he had you folded up into whatever positions he wanted.

once you took him as deep as you could, your hand flew down to your clit and with a few little circles and slow grinds of your hips, you were clamping down around him and cumming with a cute little squeal and a gasp.

he felt you soak him with your cum, his eyes locked onto where he was buried deep inside you. when you pulled up, he could see the creamy ring of cum around the base of him.

his head slammed back against the bed as he gripped your hips, your hands on his flexed forearms for support as you began to fuck yourself on his cock with a vigor he hadn't ever seen from you.

you hadn't ever been this needy before. seeing you fucking yourself completely stupid on his cock, only moans and sobs of his name to be heard besides the underlying squish of your cunt being stretched and stuffed.

"fuck!" he groaned, feeling the way your pussy clutched and pulsed around him as you angled your hips just right to hit that tender little spot that made you gush messily around him.

you once again slap his hands away from your hips. he glares at you, preparing to scold you for being such a brat but then you do something that shocks the words right out of him.

you grab his wrists and pin them beside his head on the pillow, using the grip as leverage to really begin fucking yourself back onto his cock. his jaw falls open, little moans and gasps escaping his throat as he watches you work yourself to another peak.

your tits bounce from the way you fuck yourself back on him and he wishes he could reach up and cup them, pinch and roll your hard nipples just the way you like. but he doesn't want to break this little hold you have on him, pinning him down like you think you're in charge. it's cute, really, the little show you're putting on.

it's clear he's denied you so much this whole time that you've simply snapped and now you're determined to get your fill until you've orgasmed so much that your little brain just melts. and he's more than happy to be there, not even lifting a finger and merely being a nice, hard cock for you to cream all over.

he has to admit, it's alluring to see his sweet little love acting so desperate.

he doesn't know how many orgasms you work out of yourself, but it's enough to have covered his cock and thighs thoroughly in your cum. he doesn't mind. you've always been quite a bit messy when he made you cum. but you've never came this hard and this much before. he's not even sure you're giving yourself a chance to come down from one high before you've worked yourself into another.

he's speechless, content to just lay back and watch the desperate show you've put on for him until your movements finally begin to slow.

you go from bouncing on him and pinning him down to grinding against him and cupping your own tits. your body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the workout and he's sure your thighs are fucking burning by now. you're panting and your eyes are half lidded as you stare down at him.

for the first time in a long time, simon feels...small. you had just fucked yourself better than he ever had using his own cock. the thought of that made him twitch inside you and he sees the corner of your lip twitch up and you smile at him. the heady, frustrated, desperate look in your eyes fades and you look so satisfied. the weight that he hadn't realized had been on your shoulders is gone and you lean down.

he tilts his head up and meets your lips in a kiss. your tits squish against his chest and he finally moves his hands from the position you'd pinned him in earlier and he smooths his palms down the length of your back, making you shudder.

"gonna let me cum now, love?" he asks breathlessly.

when you nod, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back, simon pins your legs open with a rough grip under your thighs and begins working his hips.

it's clear you're painfully sensitive; your clit is swollen and tender, your whole body twitching when he meanly presses his roughened thumb against it. your hands once again find purchase on your tits and you squeeze and tug at your nipples.

he fucks you at a leisurely pace, listening to the filthy, clicking noises coming from the complete mess that you've made of your cunt. your eyes roll back and he rolls your tender little bud under his thumb until you seize up in one final orgasm that makes you kick your feet out helplessly.

“there it is…” he coaxes, tossing his head back to moan when you tighten like a vice around him, “so good f’me. that’s it, ride it out, little love.”

you've no choice but the ride out this final, painful orgasm on his cock as he fucks you through it to his own end. he spills inside you, pumping his hips a few more times, watching his own cum mix with the mess of your own that oozes and drools out of your gooey little cunt.

you flop against the bed when he pulls out, both of you panting and you trembling from the overstimulation.

he flops down onto his side of the bed with a sigh, eyes finally growing heavy once again as his exhaustion catches up with him alarmingly fast.

usually, he would clean you up and fix the mess you both left behind but he just truly can't bring himself to even consider getting out of bed. so he tugs you against him, listening to you whimper when more cum drools out of you from the way you involuntarily clench from the continued aftershocks of your numerous orgasms.

he hums and holds you close, dragging the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of you, kissing your forehead before tucking your head against his chest.

he would deal with the aftermath of the night tomorrow, when you both have clear heads. though, he's sure you're going to be sore. he can't wait to see it, he muses.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[forsworned]

part one

cw: onlyfans!simon, canon universe, cybersex, solo sex/masturbation, being simon's good girl while he has some downtime, parasocial relationship???

author's note: and let me say this once to be clear, if you don't know how to ask for a part two properly without giving some sort of positive feedback and instead demand it from me you will get a verbal spanking from me and i will embarrass you, i do not care

Your breath catches as you gawk at your phone, rereading the message. The sensation of anxiety pricks at you causing you to perspire under your pits and the temple of your forehead.

The thought of him—TacticalHeat—or Ghost or whatever the hell his name is waiting on the other side, possibly stroking himself at the notion of you joining him on a private call sends a rush of arousal up your spine.

Ping!

TacticalHeat: You still there, lovie?

Oh, fuck. You card your fingers through your hair and let out a heavy exhale. It's awful timing really. Like getting caught with your pants down...literally.

Fingers sticky with lube and your own arousal, you stretch your limbs to open the drawer of your nightstand and pull out a wet wipe to clean off your hands and get a gander at the state of your appearance. It's slightly disheveled, but honestly? In a super sexy bedhead kind of way.

You wipe the corners of your eyes to remove the accumulated smudged mascara from your gruesome work day and let a sharp expire through your nose. Well, if you were going to do this, you'd at least look hot doing it.

You: Yeah, I'm here.

TacticalHeat: So what do you think, lovie...you up for it?

"Fuck!" You exclaim to yourself, not realizing that your dumbass forgot to reply to his original message. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment, tracing circles in the air as you try to unscramble your mind.

You: Now works...what do you have in mind?

The three dots appear almost instantly like he's waiting for your response with the same fiery intensity that has you gripping at your phone.

TacticalHeat: I'll send you a link. I wanna see you, too.

Ghost has invited you to a Zoom meeting.

Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, and you feel the heat sidling to your cheeks. You hadn't expected this to escalate so quickly, to be pushed into the spotlight. And yet, the idea of him watching you is thrilling.

With trembling fingers, you adjust the lighting in your room and the camera on your phone to ensure you're getting the best quality. One last look in the mirror to smooth out your hair, and make sure your top reveals a little cleavage before you tap on the link, muddying your phone screen with oils on your finger.

Twiddling with the tripod that sits by the edge of your bed as the link loads, you clip on your phone and sit back while you wait to get accepted. He wastes no time getting you out of the waiting room and you watch as the screen shifts, and suddenly, there he is. Simon's half-lidded gaze fixates on you, his familiar skull-mask in place, but this time it's different. He's relaxed, clad in a black loose-fitted henley that outlines his taut physique, and he's manspreading in light-wash denim jeans, hands exposed and you're already aching at the sight. It's an intimate setting and the atmosphere shifts when he gets a real gander at you. His gravelly voice sends a frisson up your spine:

"There's my good girl," he purrs, and just like that you're hooked.

There's a moment where your heart drops to your ass, and you let out a little shaky breath before giving him a shy smile. His gaze doesn't waver. It's intense and focused as he drinks in every detail of your appearance. You're half wondering what he thinks of you and half focused on the hoarseness in his voice when he calls you 'good girl'. How the blood rushes to your face and your trepidation tingles on your skin.

"Hi," You finally muster up and you swear his dark eyes light up, or maybe it's the delusion that spikes into your prefrontal cortex. "I'm a bit, um, surprised that you wanted to chat like this."

His mask warps in the corner of where you assume his lips are indicating a smirk. "I like a bit of spontaneity," he says, leaning closer to the camera. "Besides I wanted to see how you would handle this."

You avert your gaze for a moment, feeling hot all over again. He notes how you suck in your bottom and how your dilated eyes flicker all over the screen, a subtle sign that your adrenaline is pumping. He wishes he could hear your heart beating through the screen.

Your fingers delicately trace over your collarbone, "what do you wanna see?" your voice drops to a sultry whisper.

His eyes darken and he takes a slow breath as fixates on you, taking in all your subtle gestures and the silkiness in your dulcet tone.

"Show me how you've missed me," he rasps. "show me what you've been doing while you've waited for me."

Christ, you want to melt into your mattress. You knew it was a playful gesture to create a more intimate atmosphere between you two, even if it wasn't true.

The challenge in his tone exhilarates you with a hint of collywobbles that infest your tummy. With a quick glance at your full-size mirror mounted on your closet door, you begin to tug at the strap of your skimpy top, teasingly revealing enough of your skin to keep him riveted.

And it works.

As you continue, you can hear the jingling of his belt being unbuckled and the sound of his zipper going down.

Your blown eyes are entranced by how he frees himself from the waistband of his briefs and you’re driveling over how the muscles under the porcelain skin of his cock twitches. He tilts his head back, transfixed on how you’re exposing your pebbled bud to him.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly as you squeeze your breasts between your fingers. “Every inch of you looks perfect, lovie.”

You practically fawn over his compliments. He’s praising you, watching you, getting off to you. And that feeling is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You feel liberated and exposed, knowing that he’s eagerly watching you as the lines blur. This feeling consumes you, consumes him, and soon you’re stripping off your panties and he doesn’t even bother to hide the groan that escapes his lips. 

“Look at you, absolutely stunning. Every bit of you…” His tone changes when you part your silken, glistening folds. “Touch yourself for me, lovie.”

It’s a demanding tone. One that sends a frisson up your spinal column and you feel the need to please, but there’s another side of you that awakens. The kind that crawls out when you’re being railroaded by a domineering man. 

“Say please,” You wave your wand around. 

He softly snorts at your attempt at trying to tame him, but he humors you, “Please, lovie. I crave ya.”

And that’s enough to inflate your ego. Your fingers switch on the vibrator and you tease it over your clit, bucking your hips at your sensitive clit. 

There’s a twitch in his eyes when they widen. Like the light in his head switched on. “So you’ve been playing with yourself, have you, pretty girl?” he coos, sitting up a bit more. Oh, you’ve really got his attention now. 

Your heart flutters at the same rate that your pussy does when you realize he takes note of your current over aroused state. “Maybe,” you give him a coquettish grin. 

As you take the initiative and push the boundaries with him, a rumbling growl emits from him. His gaze intensifies as they lock on yours with a mixture of surprise and approval. He loves a good brat.

“Is that so?” he susurrates, his tone oozes with amusement. He likes the way your pretty face glimmers with the excitement to satisfy him. “You wanna take control now, do you?”

He shifts in his seat. “Go on then, lovie.” he gestures to you, and oh how his dick creams at the sight of you shaking your legs on for, gasping at the vibrating sensation of your toy caressing your cunt. You’re really such a site for sore eyes.

“Such a pretty pussy,”he praises with a husky voice that makes your heart race. The saccharine moans that leave your lips as you spasms against the silicone while you instruct him to tug at himself. 

He obliges because how can he not when you’re looking so fucking luscious on the other side of the camera as you winsomely order him to smear the opulent precum that oozes from his angry, swollen tip. A little sob leaves your lips when you see how compliant he is, and how his chest shudders at your words and creamy cries of delight. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, pumping at himself and in an instant the tables turn, and you’re more than willing to let him take control. He pants at the sight of your parted, saliva-lacquered lips and lolled back eyes. “No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”

And that sentence alone leaves you breathless. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles, through his own labored breaths. The raw emotions in his voice makes it clear how much he’s affected by you, “God, you’re everything I want and more.”

And that does it for you because your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you feel your spine involuntarily arch in pleasure, peaked breasts splayed out as your pussy rapidly pulsates on full display for him. They bounce at your ragged breaths and throes of passion and he’s quick to follow, elongating the pleasure of your peak. His velvety, opulent cum spurts out in plentiful, white cords as he bucks his hips and throws his head back. His guttural moans are like music to your ears and you’re quaking at the pure rapture. 

There’s a long moment of silence as you both come down from your highs. A laugh leaves your lips, and a wry grin twitches at his features under his balaclava. You’re no longer dripping nerves. Your smile lights up the room, and his heart swells at the sight of your afterglow. Your confidence shines through and he’s still hard. Not a very common occurrence in the world of Ghost.

Your eyes flicker to his girthy cock and your grin spreads. His eyes follow yours and he chuckles and gently pumps himself, “not every day that happens.”

You cock a brow. “What the inviting me for a cybersex sesh, or the staying hard after cumming part?”

He barks out a hearty laugh, “Both I s’ppose.” he softly plashes. “Really got me goin’ there, lovie.”

And the nickname brings you back to life. Maybe you really were delirious because you can sense that his eyes display a different range of lingering emotions--persisting lust and a genuine admiration. You can’t help but to feel a little victorious as you watch him continue to stroke himself, even after the both of you reached your peak.

“Not everyday I meet someone who can keep up with me,” he rasps. He lets out a breath of satisfaction.

You tilt your head, a coy smile etches into your lips. “Guess I’m just full of surprises,” you reply softly. There’s that sensual confidence seeping into your tone and it shows on your body.

He chuckles. It’s low and alluring and it causes gooseberries to trail up your skin. “That you are, lovie,” he counters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His voice makes you feel warm and gooey. “Could get used to this…to you.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air making his interest in you clear and undeniable. Your heart skips a beat as the heat between you simmers again. It’s no longer the deviancy alone that tips him off, it’s the fact that he’s brought out a different side of you.  

“Maybe next time,” your voice is low and tempting as your eyes motion to his still-engorged length. “you’ll let me show you how much more I can handle.”

His smirk widens under his mask, and his hunger for you multiplies. “Count on it.” he replies with the promise of fulfilling that request.

You both share a yearning moment. The spark between you is electrifying and certainly obvious. You decide to make the first move as you sit up to hover your sticky thumb over the end call button, “Good night, Ghost.”

He chews at the end of his cheek and his eyes crinkle signaling that he was smiling wide. “Good night, lovie.”

There’s no doubt in your mind that this won’t be the last time you’ll see each other like this.

taglist: @fallen-angelslove @cinnabeanz @pricesugarwife @daikongirlie @firesgod @marierg

@multifand0midi07 @surenotsorry @forgottensomewhere @teenagellamaangel @nijiru @deliverancesix

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@ki-ssshot @essentialbeats-blog @dmitriene

[mortallydeepestobservation]

Glitter, glue, I love you

Summary: You and Namjoon have been married for quite some time, your relationship having only grown since you first met as bright-eyed students back in the day. Now, you're a passionate primary school teacher, and Namjoon is an inspiring college professor, both deeply invested in shaping young minds. This holiday season, after a long day at work, you find yourselves staying late to decorate your classroom. Namjoon, ever the considerate soul, swings by to pick you up, but of course, you take advantage of the opportunity and put him to work. As you hang twinkling lights and arrange paper snowflakes, the conversation takes a meaningful turn. In the midst of the holiday madness, you talk about your future, and the idea of starting a family emerges… Best Christmas gift ever. Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: Fluff and smut. Married couple Au. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: this is honestly just a fluffy slice of life drabble. Namjoon is clumsy, and whipped. Spandex? drinking. Smut warnings: soft dom Namjoon, big cock Namjoon, oral (m and f receiving) praise, multiple positions, a little overstimulation, just a smidge of breeding kink. Word count: 14k Author’s note: Okay. I know I have an ongoing story, but I do this thing, where I get overwhelmed with life and just blurt out a whole drabble. Usually in those moments the story I’m already working on drives me insane, so I… do this. sorry?😊 thank you sweet sweet @callmenoona25 for accepting my... quirk when i just drop a whole new fic on your lap out of nowhere lol. Thank you @rpwprpwprpwprw For the perfectly aesthetic joonie photos!

(fun fact, i used to know a baby chicken little. He'd always break his glasses down the middle) Merry Christmas everyone!❄️🎄

Your new crafting scissors glided against the construction paper with ease. A flurry of cut-off bits, small pieces of colourful paper, glitter, pompoms, and anything else that merely resembled a Christmas theme littered your classroom floor.

A delightful chaos surrounded you—scraps of red, green, and gold paper mingled with stray stickers, twisted up pipe cleaners, and the occasional orphaned googly eye. It was a mess, the kind only a classroom holiday crafting session could conjure, and yet here you were, adding more to it.

The new scissors, sharp and precise, were a joy to wield, effortlessly turning construction paper into stars, trees, and snowflakes. You got so absorbed in your work that the mountain of scrap paper piling up next to your desk barely registered anymore.

The room was silent now. The kiddos had left hours ago, followed by a parent-teacher conference and a staff meeting to finalize plans for the upcoming Christmas holiday party. By the time you returned to your classroom, the exhaustion was bone-deep, and the sight of the disaster awaiting you made you groan.

But as you approached your desk and spotted a few abandoned crafts—a lopsided tree, a glue-smeared snowman—a spark of creativity flickered to life. The supplies were already out, and with autumn decorations still clinging to the walls, you figured you might as well get a head start on transforming the room into a winter wonderland before the weekend.

You lost yourself in the rhythm of cutting and crafting, glueing and arranging, the silence of the empty classroom wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was practically the only moment during the long, exhausting day when you could to sit down and just let your thoughts wonder.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice the sun setting—or the faint creak of your classroom door opening.

“Mrs. Kim, it seems my wife forgot to come home today after class.”

You froze mid-snip, the scissors poised in your hand, a half-finished snowflake dangling from your grip. The familiar voice carried a teasing warmth that made your cheeks flush before you spun around in your chair, to catch a glimpse.

Standing in the doorway was you husband, Namjoon, leaning casually against the doorframe with that playful grin you loved (or occasionally cursed for how easily it could fluster you).

His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, and his coat draped over one arm, a telltale sign that he’d come straight from his own long day at work. Yet his smile was bright, his tired eyes twinkling with delight upon seeing you, like he was about to tell you the best pun he ever heard.

“You know, most people would’ve taken that parent-teacher meeting as their cue to call it a day,” he teased, crossing his arms. His gaze swept over the room, taking in the colourful chaos, before settling on you.

“Well,” you started, trying to sound casual as you placed your scissors on the desk and brushed the glitter from your hands, leaning back against the chair. “After that I also had a staff meeting.”

His grin widened. “Did you cut out the staff out of paper?”

You huffed at his playful remark, picking up a pompom from the desk and tossing it in his direction. The fluffy projectile sailed weakly through the air before plopping to the floor with an overly dramatic bounce, getting lost in the multicoloured mess on the ground. “Very funny, Mr. Kim,” you said, shaking your head as you reached for your scissors to finish the snowflake.

Namjoon laughed, stepping into the room, his footsteps soft against the glitter-dusted floor. “I prefer clever over funny.”

You mused, pretending to consider his suggestion. “I’ll agree when you grab some paper and make something clever yourself.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. I’m just here to admire the handiwork—And maybe rescue my wife before she buries herself in glitter.”

“Too late for that.” You laughed, showing him the underside of your hands, covered in an array of colourful plastic bits and flecks of glitter.

He laughed too, his warmth filling the classroom as he settled into a nearby chair. He watched you with quiet amusement as you snipped away the final pieces of the snowflake.

Once done, you brushed the remains off the desk with a casual sweep of your hand, letting the scraps fall to the already messy floor. Reaching for a spool of string, you began tying a loop to hang the snowflakes.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, “I was just thinking I could use a tall, handsome man to help me hang these from the ceiling.”

His dimples deepened slightly as his lips curled into a smirk. “Should I fetch the principal for you?”

“God, no!” you exclaimed, shooting him a mock-horrified look.

Namjoon’s laughter echoed again, and he stood, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of your chair. “Fine. Lucky for you, I happen to know a tall, handsome man who’s free to lend a hand. On one condition.”

“And that is?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed him the snowflake.

“I get to take you out for dinner afterwards.”

“You hang up my décor and I don’t have to cook dinner?” you said with a grin, watching as he reached up to hang the snowflake with ease. “You’ve got yourself a deal, my love.”

Namjoon smirked as he hooked the snowflake onto the ceiling, his long fingers adjusting it so it hung perfectly. “Don’t get too excited. You’re paying, and I’m starving,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you handed him another snowflake. “Starving? You make it sound like you haven’t eaten all day.”

“I haven’t eaten enough,” he corrected, taking the snowflake and hanging it with the same care as the first. “Besides, all this helping is hard work. I’m burning calories just by existing in this glitter cloud.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, before standing up and stretching as much as possible, waiting for that satisfying pop that made your back come to life after sitting at your desk for hours.

While Namjoon made remarkable progress on the snowflakes, you retrieved your broom and vacuum cleaner, trying to salvage the floor and not declare war with the cleaning staff in the process.

Once it finally started looking like a classroom again—crayons arranged, glue sticks all capped and drawings proudly hung up on the walls —you fetched your seasonal décor box from the supply closet, gathering the autumn leaves and acorns as you went.

The sound of Namjoon’s soft humming filled the room as he continued to hang the rest of the snowflakes. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, so effortlessly blending into your little world. His tall frame moving with ease as he reached up to secure another delicate snowflake.

“You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” you teased, carefully arranging the autumn décor for storage.

“Just trying to make your life easier,” Namjoon replied, his voice warm. He stepped back to admire his work, hands on his hips like he’d just solved a complex philosophy problem.

You smiled, unrolling the fairy lights on your desk, silently thanking your teacher assistant for her knack for packing them neatly and knot-free.

“Think you can help me with this too?”

When you looked up, you noticed Namjoon standing next to the wall where your classroom photo was hung up. It was a large picture of you surrounded by your students, all laughing and holding colourful balloons.

The parents had given it to you as a gift on the first day of this school year, though it had been taken during the end-of-year celebration when your little first graders graduated.

Around the group photo, you’d carefully arranged individual pictures of each child, their names neatly written underneath and decorated with felt stickers.

Namjoon stood quietly, his eyes scanning the display with a soft smile tugging at his lips. His expression was a mix of pride and warmth, the kind that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“What’s baby Chicken Little up to?” he asked, glancing over at you, the playful nickname making you giggle.

Last year your heart had been stolen by a little boy named Minjun, who made it his yearlong mission to bring you a leaf or a flower every single day of school. His little backpack was almost as big as he was, and he’d always greet you with the brightest, most infectious smile when he walked through the door, before dropping the little plant on your desk and giving you an adorable bow.

You’d told Namjoon all about him at the end of each day, and when you proudly showed him the photo you’d snapped of Minjun on your phone, Namjoon cooed and playfully nicknamed him baby Chicken Little. All because of his “iconic green glasses,” which happened to bear an uncanny resemblance to the ones the animated character wore.

“He’s doing really well. A little genius when it comes to multiplications, although his calligraphy could use some work.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples making an appearance as he glanced back at Minjun’s photo. “Multiplications, huh? Guess he’s already ahead of the curve.”

You smiled fondly, scavenging through your storage boxes for the chalk markers. “He’s a sharp one. Always so curious. His mom says he’s been teaching his little sister how to count using her barbie dolls.

Namjoon’s expression softened further. “Sounds like a future teacher in the making.”

You giggle, “Only if he can pass your philosophy 101 class in college.”

“Oh, come on! You know I’m not as mean as you make me out to be.”

You raised an eyebrow, pausing your search for the chalk markers to give him a teasing look. “Not as mean? Should I remind you about that one student—what was his name? Jungkook? —who said your essay prompts were harder than his organic chemistry final?”

Namjoon groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “That was one time! And he clearly didn’t read the syllabus.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, stifling a laugh as you finally found the markers, holding them up triumphantly. “I’m just saying, if Minjun wants to pass your class, he better start practicing his critical thinking skills now.”

Namjoon crossed his arms, feigning offense. “For the record, my students love me. I’m approachable, insightful, and, dare I say... inspiring.”

You watched as Namjoon gave you that challenging look, daring you to tease him further. But deep down, you knew 100% that he was right.

After all, he’d proudly told you about Jungkook— the ‘Muscle Bunny’—who, by the end of the year, would refuse to leave the classroom after lessons, just for a chance to talk with Namjoon about everything from philosophy to general life issues. (And on more than one occasion, you had to swing by the college to collect your husband, because they were both so emersed in the conversation.)

Sure, Jungkook may have started out as a bit of a tough nut, but by the end of the semester, he was one of Namjoon’s biggest fans.

You chuckled softly at the thought. Namjoon had a way of drawing people in, even the most unlikely candidates. It’s what made him such an outstanding teacher. And you couldn’t be happier that you managed to snatch him up before he even graduated with his teacher’s degree.

“I know you are.” You said honestly, watching his posture soften, his eyes almost twinkling with delight at the compliment.

Namjoon’s dimples deepened, and he turned back to look at the photos on the wall. A comforting silence falling over the classroom again as you started drawing with the chalk markers on the windows.

It was just as you were finishing the last details of the snowman that Namjoon spoke again, his voice steady but carrying a weight that immediately caught your attention.

“Do you think we’d make good parents?”

The question hung in the air, quiet and unexpected, causing you to freeze mid-stroke. Your hand suspended, the tip of the marker just inches away from the snowman’s little top hat. You hadn’t expected that. Namjoon had always been thoughtful, but this… this was something entirely different.

You turned slowly, finding him looking at you, his expression unreadable but soft. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure why he asked the question, but was waiting for your answer nonetheless.

“Good parents?” you repeated, your voice quieter than usual, the weight of the question settling into your chest. It wasn’t just a casual inquiry—it felt loaded and significant. It felt like he was asking something deeper, something that might change your life in the very near future.

Namjoon seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His lips parted slightly, as if trying to find the right words, but instead, he stayed silent, letting the question linger.

You cleared your throat, your thoughts racing. Was he asking about parenting techniques? Was this a hypothetical question, or was there something more to it? You couldn’t quite tell. But the thought of it—of you and Namjoon as parents—flashed across your mind, and for a split second, you felt a warmth spread in your chest.

You’d talked about your future many times—even while you were still just dating—and you both agreed you wanted kids. But there was never a set timeline or a specific goal you wanted to reach before starting a family.

You took a slow breath, trying to gather your thoughts as the weight of the question settled in your mind. The idea of having a baby—it was something you’d talked about casually, even dreamt about in passing. But now, with his eyes on you, the conversation suddenly felt real, more tangible than it ever had before.

You finally put the chalk marker down on the desk, turning fully to face him. “You’ve asked me before about the future,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “But this... this feels different. Are you asking because you’re actually thinking about it?”

Namjoon looked at you, his eyes soft but filled with a quiet intensity that made your cheeks heat up. “I mean-” he said after a beat, his voice almost uncertain. “I guess I’ve been thinking about it more lately, especially with everything we’ve built together. I don’t think we can get any more financially stable. And we’ve got a good thing, right? We work well as a team. I just... I wonder what it would be like to take that next step, with you.”

Your heart nearly exploded, a big grin spreading across your face that would certainly make your cheeks hurt if you kept it up. He had a way of making everything feel possible, of making you believe in the future even when you didn’t have all the answers. The thought of raising kids with him, of teaching them the way you both wanted to, filled you with an overwhelming sense of warmth and certainty.

“I think we’d be great,” you said, your voice full of honest affection. “We’d make an amazing team. I know we’ve got the love, the patience, and the understanding to do it.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, as if taking in your words, before a soft smile crept onto his face.

You knew you weren’t about to get a confirmation from him, not now at least. Namjoon needed to steep in his thoughts a bit more before he would finally and ultimately tell you he wants a baby.

Still, his smile lingered, and he slowly nodded, as if to affirm your words without needing to say anything else just yet.

The silence between you both felt comfortable, like a promise for the future—an unspoken understanding that this was a conversation that didn’t need to be rushed.

After a moment, he reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft but sure.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and peace settle in your chest. Even despite hearing those same exact words come out his mouth millions of times, they still wrapped around you like a protective embrace, making everything else, every worry, every unfinished plan and every glitter-littered snowflake fade into the background.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the moment. “I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady but filled with the same devotion that was in his eyes.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, before glancing around the classroom, “What did you ask me to do?”

“Fairy lights, Joon.”

Namjoon chuckled softly at your reminder, his fingers still lingering on your cheek for a moment before he stepped back. “Right, right,” he said, shaking his head. “I got distracted from the important things.”

You watched him walk toward the desk to finish hanging the fairy lights, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you returned to your drawing. The weight of the earlier conversation still lingered in the air, but it left you with a spark of excitement.

As he carefully draped the lights along the chalkboard, you noticed how effortlessly he moved, how much care he put into making sure everything was perfect. You’d always admired that about him—his attention to detail, his quiet confidence in everything he did. And now, with every little task, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of certainty.

“Almost done,” Namjoon called out, glancing over his shoulder. You gave him a thumbs-up, your smile widening as he finished the last strand of lights.

The classroom now looked like a cozy little haven, with the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle warmth over the space. Everything felt perfect.

 You capped your marker once the windows were done, and walked over to your desk to organize a little bit, putting away the potentially dangerous supplies, before closing the drawers and the boxes.

Namjoon stood beside you, his hands in his pockets as he admired the room. “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. But it’s still missing one thing.”

You frowned, stopping mid-motion, to glance around. “What’s that?”

He reached down, gently tugging you to your feet and closing the last box for you. “Us. Out of here, enjoying a well-deserved dinner.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, grabbing his coat and your bag before stepping away from the desk. Namjoon fetched your coat from the hanger, draping it over your shoulders with a soft smile. He then took your hand, a firm but gentle hold, and started guiding you toward the door, almost certain that if he didn’t, you’d find something else to do.

As you walked together, you paused by to the classroom pet cage, drawn by the soft rustling inside. The little chinchilla scamped out of his enclosure and over to the bars, his nose twitching as he looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes.

“Did I tell you we need to take Professor Fluff this Christmas break?” You asked, grabbing a treat from the nearby jar and tossing it into the cage, watching as the chinchilla eagerly snatched it up and started nibbling on it.

Namjoon, holding the door open for you, tilted his head as you walked back to him.

“Wasn’t it Teacher Assistant Park’s turn?”

“She’s pregnant, Namjoonie. She can’t.”

You slipped your hand into his, smiling as his fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the dimly lit school halls.

“She should be able to handle a chinchilla if she expects to take care of a baby.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “No, babe, it’s about allergies.”

Namjoon sighed dramatically but couldn’t fully hide his grin. “That settle it. Definitely getting you pregnant. Even if only for the perks —wife comes home on time, and I get to have her all to myself for the holidays.”

You blushed furiously at his comment, a big, droopy smile tugging on your lips.

“Oh, come on. How much time do you think Professor Fluff is going to keep me occupied?” you tease, bumping your shoulder against him as you walk.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, playful glint in his eyes. “With what I have planned for you, more than I like.” he replied, pulling the door shut behind him as the two of you stepped out into the crisp evening air.

You laugh, your cheeks still warm from the blush he had put there. Namjoon's teasing always had a way of making your heart flutter, but this time, there was something deeper in his words—something that felt like it carried a promise.

“I swear, you really know how to keep me on my toes,” You glanced up at him, feeling the warmth of his touch on your hand as he guided you out into the crisp evening air.

He grinned, pulling you closer to him as you made your way to the car. “That's the idea. Keep you guessing, keep you interested.” He gave you a wink, the playful glint never leaving his eyes, even as he opened the driver’s door for you.

“I don’t think you need to work too hard at it. You're already the most interesting person I know.” You said when he settled into the passengers seat.

Namjoon's smile softened, and for a moment, you could see the sincerity behind his teasing demeanour.

“I like that you think that,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, as he slowly leaned over the console to catch your lips in a sweet kiss.

You melted into him, the soft press of his lips against yours lingering for just a moment longer than usual, making your heart race. It was the type of kiss that had you coming back for more, the kind that melted all your worries away, and made you feel like you two were the only ones in the world.

As he pulled away, he gave you a playful smile, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “Now please drive. I’m starving.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden shift in tone, your heart still fluttering from the lingering kiss.

“Always about food with you,” you sigh, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. “I guess I'll just have to accept that food is your first love.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his expression turning mischievous. “Well, if food's my first love, you, my dear, are my favourite dessert.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, a mix of amusement and affection swirling inside you, butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach.

You glanced over at him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Is that so?” You said, your voice teasing as you focused on the road.

Namjoon's grin widened; his eyes gleaming. “Absolutely. You’re sweet, irresistible, and I could spend hours between your legs.”

A flush crept up your cheeks as your grip on the steering wheel tightened, the tension between you two shifting. His words hung in the air, teasing but also carrying an edge that made your pulse quicken.

“Keep talking like that and I'm taking you home,” you threatened.

Namjoon’s expression shifted in an instant from playful to mock-serious. “No, no,” he whined, leaning back into the seat with a dramatic sigh. “I promise I'll be good.”

You giggle. “What do you want to eat then?”

He lit up again, his mock seriousness giving way to his usual enthusiasm. “That little BBQ place that opened up down the street from us.”

“The one you haven’t stopped talking about since they put up the ‘coming soon’ sign?”

“That’s the one,” he admitted unabashedly, his grin growing wider “It’s fate. They opened just in time for us to have the perfect date.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned the car toward home. “I guess it is. But I’m parking at home and we can walk—that way, I can drink too.”

“Oh, is my baby planning to get wasted tonight?” he teased, his tone light and playful.

“No,” you chuckled, glancing at him with a smirk. “But I know for a fact you’re going to order that fancy whiskey you always get, and I don’t want to be stuck as the designated driver.”

Namjoon laughed, his deep dimpled grin lighting up his face. “Fair point. That whiskey is worth the walk. And hey, I’ll carry you home if you have one too many.”

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your lips. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. It hasn’t been such a bad week” you smile at him, “But I won’t say no to being spoiled by you a little.”

“Always,” he replied without missing a beat. “I’ll spoil you every chance I get.”

You couldn't help but grin at his words, the warmth in his voice making your blush reappear. There was something so comforting in the way he always knew how to make you feel special, how he was so genuine in every little thing he did for you.

“So, you’re paying tonight?”

“Nope,” he smiled, popping the p, and earning a heartfelt laughter from you.

As the two of you approached your home, you turned the car into the driveway, the familiar sight of your house welcoming you. Namjoon was already getting out of the car, his excitement for the evening palpable.

“Let me grab my bag, and we’ll head out,” you said, stepping out of the car and locking it. Namjoon waited by the gate, glancing around as the evening air started to cool, a few stray little snowflakes lazily drifting through the air. The stars above twinkled in the dark sky, and the soft hum of the city around you made it feel like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

“Ready?” he asked as you approached him, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Let’s go,” you replied with a grin, your arm slipping through his. You walked down the quiet street together, the comfortable rhythm of your steps matching each other effortlessly.

The neighbourhood was peaceful, with only a few cars passing by, and the crisp air reddening the tip of your nose. As you reached the corner of the street, the warm glow of the BBQ restaurant came into view. The scent of grilled meat and spices filled the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation, and reminding you your last meal was breakfast, many hours ago.

“There it is,” Namjoon said, his voice full of excitement. “I’ve been dreaming of this all week.”

You laughed, the sound easy and full of affection. “It’s definitely been a long time coming, huh?”

“Worth the wait,” he replied, grinning.

As you entered the restaurant, the cozy atmosphere wrapped around you, and the delicious smells only heightened your anticipation. Namjoon gave you a playful glance, watching as you all but jump with excitement, before leading you to a little booth. You, of course, slid in next to him, and cuddled up against his side as you waited for the waiter. Namjoon grinned as you cuddled up against his side, his arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. The booth was small, but cozy, and the warm lighting of the restaurant made it feel like a private little nook just for the two of you.

As you settled in, your gaze drifted to the menu, although, truthfully, you were more focused on the tall and handsome man next to you. His warm presence besides you, the way he always seemed to know exactly how to make you feel safe and cared for. The man who wanted a family with you, who would undoubtedly take perfect, tender care of your little human being, and who would hang out at the museum talk hours on end about his favourite pieces with the kiddo, like they could grasp every single concept. Before, undoubtedly trying to teach your baby the deepest philosophy concepts ever, and five different musical instruments all at once.

The waiter soon approached, and Namjoon, with his usual confidence, ordered for the both of you without missing a beat. He didn’t even need to ask what you wanted—he already knew. A small smile tugged at your lips as you watched him. He always did that, always taking care of things in his own calm, capable way. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

Once the drinks arrived—a neat whiskey bottle that you couldn’t remember the name of—you clinked your glasses together in a soft toast.

“To perfect dates,” Namjoon said with a glint in his eye, his voice warm and filled with affection as he held his glass up to yours.

“To many more to come,” you replied, your voice light but sincere, the sound of it carrying a promise in the air between you.

The glass met with a soft clink, and the warmth of the whiskey settled in your chest as you took your first sip, savouring the smooth, smoky flavour. Namjoon mirrored your actions, the ice in his glass gently clinking as he took a long sip, never breaking his gaze from you.

You smiled at him, the familiar tenderness filling your heart, a slow, easy feeling of contentment settling over you. There was something special about moments like this—about sharing time in each other’s presence, just the two of you, with no outside distractions.

It reminded you of your first few dates, back when you two were both overworked students with a seriously high number of sleepless nights, and a very poor diet consisting mostly of cola and noodles. Back when he was so nervous that he basically talked to himself the whole date, stumbling over his words in a rush to make the ‘conversation flow’, but still managing to make you laugh with his awkward charm. You didn’t tease him about it back then, how could you? When he’d look at you like you could single-handedly change the world with a flutter of your eyelashes.

And when you agreed to a second date, he gave you the biggest, cheesiest smile you ever saw, before accidentally bumping into you as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, somehow managing to smack you in the face with his forehead.

You froze for a second, both of you staring at each other in stunned silence, before he apologized in a flurry and left you alone and confused in front of your dorm room.

Imagine his surprise when you called him for details about the promised second date.

Even so, there was never a moment when Namjoon ever made you feel unsafe, or like he was going out with you just to make up for his awkwardness. No, despite his nervousness, he always made sure you felt valued, cherished, and like you were the most important person in the room. That was one of the things you’d grown to love about him. He was sincere in every gesture, every word, even when he felt uncertain about himself.

That second date he got to kiss you right.

You had both come a long way since then. The clumsy first kiss was just a part of the story now, a little cherished memory that always brought a warm smile to your lips whenever you thought about it. You’d grown together since that day, and with each date, each shared moment, your bond had only deepened.

Now, here you were, sitting next from him, your husband, in this cozy little restaurant, enjoying the warmth of the whiskey and the various dishes that the waiter brought out for you.

Everything felt right. There was no doubt in your mind that this, right here, was exactly where you were meant to be.

Namjoon caught your eye, a small, playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re smiling to yourself.”

“I’m happy,” you replied simply.

Namjoon softened, his eyes filled with warmth as he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “Me too,” he said, his words wrapping around your heart and making it jump in your chest. You quickly leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, giggling a bit when he let out a soft, surprised puff, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected gesture. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice light with amusement but still smooth .

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, the devotion in your gaze unwavering. “For making me happy. And for hanging the snowflakes in my classroom.” You paused for a quick second, before smirking. “And for paying for dinner?”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “Nope.”

He laughed at your fake little pout, before holding out his chopsticks to you. “Here, try this.”

You opened your mouth wide, waiting for him to feed you the piece of beef he cooked, only for it to fall from his chopsticks and right on your button-down shirt.

You both froze for a moment, staring at the little piece of beef resting on your chest. Namjoon blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief before he broke into a fit of laughter, his deep voice filling the space between you two.

“Smooth,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you reached for the beef and popped it into your mouth, before grabbing a napkin to wipe away the mess on your shirt.

“I'm so sorry,” Namjoon said, still laughing, but his voice filled with genuine concern. “I swear I aimed for your mouth.”

You dabbed the spot on your shirt, trying to suppress your own laughter. “That’s what he said.”

At that little comment he gave you a deep belly laugh, a hand covering his mouth, before grabbing another napkin for you.

“I’ll take it to the cleaners tomorrow. I’m sorry.” He still giggled like a little kid watching you try to rub the stain away.

You couldn't help but smile, your heart warm at the small, sweet gesture. “I think it’s fine,” you said, your voice softening as you met his eyes. “It's just a shirt. But it’s the thought that counts.”

Namjoon tilted his head, his dimpled grin returning. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, leaning in slightly, his voice lower and softer. “I swear.”

The temptation to flirt back tugged at you, but the urge to tease him was simply too strong to resist.

“You can start by not burning the rest of the meat on the grill.”

“Shit!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction as he whipped around to check the grill. The sizzling sound of beef filled the air, and he immediately sprang into action, grabbing the tongs and flipping the steaks with exaggerated haste.

“Shit, shit!” he muttered under his breath, his hands moving quickly but still a little too late to save the edges of the tender cuts from burning.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching the frantic yet adorable way he tried to salvage the meal. "Maybe next time, don’t get so distracted by my chest," you teased, leaning back in your chair with a sly grin

“I swear I’m a better cook when I’m not trying to impress you.” he confessed with an embarrassed smile that made your heart pick up again.

“Why are you still trying to impress me? You’re already getting in my pants tonight.” You flutter your eyelashes up at him, leaning into his side.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered under his breath, focusing back on the grill with renewed determination.

You let out a laugh, unable to resist bugging him further. “Come on, Namjoonie, you don’t have to work this hard for me. I’m already sold. Burned beef and all.”

He shot you a quick look over his shoulder, his dimple making a reappearance as he smirked. “Oh, I know you’re sold. But I still have to keep my reputation intact. Can’t have you thinking you married a man who can’t even grill properly.”

You shrugged playfully. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly drawn to you for your cooking skills to begin with.”

Namjoon smirked, his eyes briefly flicking to yours with a teasing glint before he said, “Good. Then I guess my other skills will have to do now too.”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, and you raised an eyebrow, “Careful, Mr. Kim. You keep that up, and I’m taking you home.”

Namjoon’s laugh was loud and deep, echoing around the room as he handed you the piece of meat. “Eat first,” he said with mock seriousness, his tone firm but the amusement dancing in his eyes betrayed him. “And you’re getting dessert too.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, smirking “You’re just going to eat half of whatever I pick, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he admitted shamelessly, his grin widening in triumph, dropping some veggies on your plate too.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your laugh as you reached for the menu. “Fine. Let’s get the profiteroles. They look amazing, and you can’t mess up sharing that.”

Namjoon arched a brow. “Are you implying I messed up sharing earlier?”

You shot him a pointed look, lips twitching with amusement. “There’s beef on my shirt, Namjoon.”

Namjoon paused mid-grin, glancing down at your chest, before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. No more distractions.” He turned back to the grill, but not without throwing you a cheeky wink first. “Although, just for the record, you’re quite distracting when you wear that skirt.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I swear, you're impossible.”

Yet there wasn’t even a crumb of conviction in your tone.

The evening carried on naturally, the warmth of the alcohol and the steady rhythm of conversation made everything feel comfortable. The intimate little interludes— the flirting, teasing, the way his eyes never strayed far from you—kept the energy between you two charged. You weren’t sure whether it was the drinks, or Namjoon’s smile, or a mix of both, but you couldn’t deny the way everything felt amplified. You were tipsy, needy, and feeling more than a little flushed.

Namjoon noticed it before you did, that little shift in the air around you. He leaned in, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he casually placed his hand over thigh. “You’re looking a little red,” he remarked softly, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made a shiver run down your spine.

You tried to laugh it off, shifting slightly in your seat. “I think I might’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Mm, I noticed,” he said, his voice smooth, low. He didn’t pull his hand away, but instead gave your leg a gentle squeeze, before moving his hand higher up edging the seam of your skirt, “You look adorable though.”

A soft heat spread through you, making your heart beat in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. There was something in his gaze—something undeniably intense—that made the air between you feel thick. Like you could just eat him up, and he’d thank you.

“Do I need to carry you home?”

“No.” You swallowed, shifting your eyes away. “But you should stop looking at me like that. You’re making me blush.” You replied, trying to play it off, but your words felt like they were slipping from your lips a little too easily. You could feel his gaze on you, assessing, as if he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.

Namjoon’s gaze softened, and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he leaned in a fraction closer. His thumb gently stroked your skin, the simple touch sending a spark of heat straight to your core. “Am I?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach twist in the most wonderful of ways.

You tried to steady your breath, but it felt impossible under the weight of his attention. “Yes.”

“Good,” he smirked.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, not sure whether it was a plea or a warning.

The playful banter felt more like a slow burn now, the kind that lingered in the spaces between your words and between your slowed movements.

 “Mm?”

“Please get the tab, so I can pay and we can go.”

Namjoon’s lips curled, his fingers still moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“Impatient, baby?” He murmured, his voice deeper now, like he was savouring the effect he was having on you.

You nodded, the growing need clouding your thoughts. “Yes,” you whispered, barely audible. “I want to go home.”

He leaned in slightly, his face just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to blur out of existence. His breath was warm against your skin, and the weight of his gaze made you feel both exposed and electrified. It didn’t even register that you were out in public anymore, or that there were other patrons around. The only thing on your mind was his dark eyes staring at you.

“Alright,” he said, his voice low and steady, his smirk never wavering. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He slid his hand off your leg, but not without one last lingering touch—soft, deliberate, and devastating—leaving you absolutely wrecked as he leaned back to call the waiter.

(Of course, he didn’t even let you see the tab, snatching it up and paying for your meal without a second thought.)

Every movement of his was slow, measured, like he knew exactly where your limit was and he was drawing it all out with maddening precision. The air between you thickened with unspoken tension, humming in the spaces where his fingers lingered, where his gaze met yours.

And when he brushed your hair to the side to help you slip into your coat, his hand found the back of your neck, resting there for just a second longer than necessary—firm and warm, enough to leave your heart pounding and your mind spinning.

The moment the door of the restaurant swung open, a gust of cold air hit you, the crisp night biting at your skin. The alcohol in your blood dulled slightly, replaced by the clarity of the chill as you instinctively pulled your coat tighter around you. Yet, the thin fabric did little to shield you from the cold, the breeze slipping through the seams.

Namjoon was right beside you, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened street as if the cold didn’t faze him at all. With a glance your way, he stepped closer, shrugging his own coat higher on his shoulders before slipping his arm around you without hesitation. His hand rested lightly on your back, the weight of it both grounding and comforting.

His warmth beside you was enough to make the walk more bearable, and the anticipation bubbling inside you made it all worthwhile.

He turned to you, a slight smile on his lips. “Cold out here, huh?” he said, his breath visible in the night air, quickly leading you towards your home.

You nodded, pulling your scarf up a little higher to shield your face from the cold.

Without a word, Namjoon slid his arm around your shoulders, tucking you closer to his side. His touch was casual yet deliberate, like he didn’t need permission but still silently asked for it. The fabric of his coat was rough against your cheek, but his body heat bled through, chasing away the chill that had started to seep into your skin.

The street was quiet, the glow of streetlights casting long, soft shadows as you walked side by side. Those shy snowflakes from earlier now growing bolder, swirling down in earnest. They clung to your hair and coat, melting into tiny droplets against the warmth of your skin.

Namjoon’s hand shifted after a while, slipping down to find yours. Without hesitation, he slid both into the pocket of his coat, the gesture so natural and intimate that it made your stomach flutter anew. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absently, a small but steady movement that set your heart racing. Each step brought you closer together, your shoulders brushing now and then, as you neared your house.

His presence, the solid warmth of him beside you, was more than enough to keep the chill at bay.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the crisp night air as he glanced over at you.

You nodded, your breath forming soft clouds in the cold. “Yeah. This is nice.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Nice? You’re freezing.”

“You’re hot.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, accompanied by a fit of giggles that felt almost too loud in the still night. The alcohol still hummed faintly in your system, loosening your tongue, but it was worth it just to see Namjoon stutter, his eyebrows raising.

And then he laughed, full and rich, the sound reverberating through you. “Wow,” he murmured, shaking his head with an amused smile. His cheeks tinged pink—maybe from the cold, maybe not—as he reached into his other pocket, pulling out his set of keys.

“Smooth,” he teased, glancing sideways at you as he fiddled with them, making quick work of finding the right one. The lock clicked open, and he stepped aside to let you in first, the warmth of the indoors beckoning you like a sanctuary.

As you passed, he caught your arm gently, his fingers brushing along its length. His eyes met yours, a daring glint in them that suddenly made your heart pick up again.

It wouldn’t be the first time Namjoon pins you to the first flat surface as soon as you walked through the door, fucking every single sensible though out of your brain, and that idea sends a tingle of excitement coursing through your body. You smile up at him, leaning further into his touch.

But Namjoon is undeterred.

“Don’t make snow all over the place. I mopped yesterday.”

You tilted your head, a little indignant puff escaping your lips before you smirk, toeing off your snowy boots by the door. “You’re so sexy when you do chores.” You push your luck further, but your lovely husband can’t seem to pick up on it.

 “That’s it. No more drinks for you.”

“Mm, you love it,” you teased, stepping past him into the warmth of the hallway.

The cozy embrace of the house wrapped around you, softening the crisp chill that clung to your skin, inviting that sense of ease that only your home could bring. You made quick work of shedding your coat and boots, setting them neatly by the door before stretching your arms high above your head, a little moan escaping your lips as the tension of the day melted away.

Namjoon glanced over just in time to catch your little display, his eyes flickering with amusement—and something else. “Comfortable already?” he shrugged off his own coat and tossing it over a chair.

“Very,” you replied with a content sigh. Without much thought, you made your way to the living room and plopped down on the couch, curling up against the soft cushions.

Namjoon followed behind, shaking the snow from his hair before taking his seat right next to you. His long body settled into the couch with easy grace, his head leaning back against the cushions, eyes lazily studying you as you sink further into the couch.

The warmth of the room wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, combining perfectly with the comfortable silence that filled the air. You could feel the weight of the night slip away.

The alcohol was still buzzing lightly through your veins, making you feel a little lighter, more complacent.

Namjoon shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours as his hand found its way to your thigh, his fingers resting there with an easy familiarity. The warmth of his palm seeped through the fabric of your skirt, and when he shifted again, his touch grew bolder, fingers tracing slow circles just above your knee.

The small touch made your heart pickup again, and you looked up at him, catching the softness in his expression as he glanced back at you.

“So tired,” he confessed, almost like it was a secret. The day had been long for both of you, and you had no doubt the holiday season weighed just as heavily on him. Sure, yours was filled with glittering snowflakes and loud kids singing out of tune Christmas carols, while his likely consisted of conference calls, paper grading and presentations, but fatigue didn’t discriminate.

Still, there was something about the evening, the silence between you two, that made it all feel worthwhile. The day was over, but the night had a way of stretching on, leaving just enough space for small moments like this. Because with Namjoon, there was always something that made the world feel quieter, easier. Like he was grounding you, helping you recharge in a way no one else could.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response, your voice a little dreamy as you let your head fall to the side, leaning against his shoulder.

“You look tired too,” he said softly, his voice laced with tenderness, still his hand shifted to the inside of your thigh, fingers massaging your skin softly.

“I am,” you admitted with a small sigh, your body naturally melting into his touch as the knots in your muscles began to dissolve.

Yet, even as your body relaxed, a spark flickered deep in your belly—undeniable and growing—kindled by the deliberate care in his movements, each touch purposeful and impossible to ignore.

“But I’m also horny,” you tack on after a few seconds, your voice a little breathy, your eyes flicking up to meet his, watching for his reaction.

Namjoon’s hand stilled for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze dropped briefly to where his fingers rested against your leg, then lifted to meet your eyes. His smile turned slow, deliberate, and his voice dropped an octave when he finally responded.

“Is my baby needy?”

You nodded slowly, feeling completely vulnerable under his deliberate admiration “Yeah,” you whispered, the word falling form your lips like a confession. “I want you.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, as if testing the waters, giving you a chance to pull back if you wanted to. But the way his eyes locked onto yours, the way his touch lingered now a little longer, a little rougher, said he wasn’t going anywhere unless you wanted him to.

Instead of answering, you shifted, turning around to straddle his hips, tugging your skirt higher in the process so you could sit comfortably on his lap.

“Always,” you muttered, your voice a breathy promise before closing the gap between you. You pressed your lips to his with fervour, cutting off the teasing words he was no doubt ready to deliver, swallowing them whole.

 Namjoon’s hands quickly went to your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, and you giggled when he squeezed at your flesh, then shifted like he sensed something unusual.

“What are you wearing?” Namjoon murmured against your mouth, his breath warm and pleasant. The low timbre of his voice made you giggle, the vibration of your laughter mingling with the tickle of his breath.

“Spandex,” you replied with a grin. “How do you think my butt looks so good in this skirt?” With a playful movement, you lifted the hem of your skirt just enough to show him. The spandex hugged your curves perfectly, a sly smirk plastered on your face.

Namjoon chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the spandex before his hand returned to its frisky grip on your ass. His gaze lingered, warm and unguarded, as if memorizing every curve.

“Sexy,” he concluded. His other hand grabbing the edge of your shorts and letting it slap against your skin; the gesture drawing another burst of giggles from you.

“The sexiest,” you replied, your laughter dissolving into a grin as you shook your head. With an easy motion, you dropped your head onto his shoulder, muffling your laughter against his shirt.

It was ridiculous, you knew that—the whole moment—but there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart swell. Like he found you beautiful even in the silliness, even in spandex.

You remained like that for a moment, enveloped in the comfort of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with your own. His hands continued their gentle kneading of your flesh, and you shifted your hips, pressing closer, feeling his hardness through your clothes.

Namjoon let out a soft huff, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes, an impish glint in your own. With a wicked smile, you began moving your hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding against him, enjoying the way he hardens beneath you. His hands tightened, pulling you closer, a soft moan escaping his lips as he let his head fall back against the couch.

“Ah, babe-” His voice was strained, thick with desire, the heat between you intensifying, his hips buckling up slightly.

Your hands wander up his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath his shirt. You can feel his heart racing, matching your own as you lose yourself in the rhythm you’d set. With a bit of fumbling, you managed to unbutton his shirt, watching as he shivered under the touch of your cold fingers as you chart his toned muscles.

“Fuck. Kiss me please,” he breathed out, his voice rough and needy.

Your mouth hovered just few inches away from his, the warmth of his wrapping around you like a cocoon. Close enough to count the moles and freckles that dotted his skin, to take in the slight stubble along his jaw. His breath mingled with yours, teasing your lips.

 Your gaze flickered down, lingering on his mouth for just a moment longer.

And then, you didn’t hesitate. Leaning in, your lips find his in a fervent kiss. His mouth moved with yours, tongues tangling as you explored him, your hands roaming the expanse of his now exposed chest. The kiss was all-consuming, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you since he stepped into your classroom earlier today.

Namjoon's hands are not idle either. They roam up your thighs, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, making you shiver. You can feel his arousal pressing against your core, and you grind against him, eliciting a low moan from him.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands squeezing your thighs. “I want you so bad.”

His words send another wave of heat through you, and you deepen the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You can feel the tension building between you, your own arousal growing with every passing moment.

With a reluctant movement, you pull away to stand up, your skirt falling back down to your thighs as you stare down at him. Namjoon looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement as you slowly, deliberately, begin to undress for him.

Pulling your button down over your head, you let it fall at his feet, watching the way his eyes barely flicker to it. Instead, Namjoon watches you, his breath quickening as you reveal more and more of your body to him.

You slip out of your skirt, tossing it aside as you stand before him in nothing but your spandex shorts and a lacy bra. His eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your body with a hungry gaze.

“God, you're beautiful,” he breathes, his voice thick with longing, watching you kneel between his legs on the floor, your hands quickly moving to his belt to unbuckle it.

You take your time with it, savouring the way his breath hitches as you brush your fingers against his hardness. Once the belt is undone, you unbutton his pants and pull them down, taking his boxers with them. Namjoon lifts his hips to help, his gaze never leaving yours.

Now that he's fully exposed, you can't help but admire him; He's always been handsome, but in this moment, with desire burning in his eyes and his body tense with need, his unbuttoned shirt still clinging to his shoulders, he was downright irresistible.

You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock, hard and ready, resting against his stomach, and he hisses in a deep breath, melting under your touch.

“Fuck.” His head falls back against the couch pillows, breaking eye contact once you wrap your lips against his dick, running your tongue over his leaking tip, swirling it and dipping it into the slit, enjoying the lewd sounds that escaped from his chest without abandon.

Emboldened, you keep taking him deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and finding a steady rhythm that has him unravelling quickly. Your tongue rolling over his head every time you come back up.

Your hand starts working the part you can’t reach mirroring the rhythm you've set with your mouth, unleashing a flood of moans from him.

Namjoon’s hips buck, accidentally bumping the back of your throat, making you gag, and a quick, weak apology falls from his lips, although you feel like he doesn’t truly mean it, because he does it again right after.

 But you barely care, because his taut stomach clenches, showcasing his pretty abs, and the long, low sound he makes sends a new wave of wetness between your legs, urging you on. You were the one making him weak. You were pleasuring him in such a way that made him lose himself.

“Just like that, love.” He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, not tugging at it, but guiding your movements, fucking your mouth. You keep up with him, your lips now redden, tongue rolling on the underside, and your chin covered in spit as you bob faster.

The room is filled with the wet vulgar sounds your mouth makes and his low groans, the air thick with desire and anticipation.

“Fuck. Babe, stop.” He whimpers, tugging at your hair. “I’m close. Don’t want to cum-”

Suddenly, Namjoon pulls you away, holding you just out of reach as his head falls back against the couch, a long miserable “Fuuuuuck,” filling the space between you, as if he’d just received the worst news ever.

You blink up at him, your mind scrambling to understand his sudden outburst. His gaze meets yours again, and the regret swimming in his eyes deepens your confusion.

“Fuck. I knew I forgot something.” He groaned, voice thick with frustration, his fingers releasing their hold on your hair.

Your hand stilled mid-movement, your head tilting slightly as you tried to make sense of his words.

“You… can’t get blowjobs?” you asked cautiously, your knees wobbling as you stood up, bracing yourself against his legs for stability.

“What? No,” he blurted, his brows furrowing in indignation. “I forgot to go to the store. We’re out of condoms.”

Namjoon looked utterly defeated, his hands reaching out instinctively to steady you. Yet, there was something almost comical in the way his lips formed the smallest of pouts.

You bit down hard on the wicked grin threatening to spread across your face. He was adorable—even now, red hard cock pulsing against his chiselled thighs, neck flushed red, chest rising and falling rapidly as his mind raced. Likely scolding himself for forgetting something so crucial.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips, and again, you bury your face into his shoulder, leaning into him to press a kiss against his neck, drawing his gaze back to you. His thumbs began rubbing slow circles against your hips, grounding both of you as you whispered softly into his ear, “We could always go without.”

Namjoon froze. The suggestion sent a visible shiver through him, and his eyes widening slightly.

 For a moment, the room was silent save for the soft hum of the heater in the background, the suggestion hanging in the air between you like a loaded secret. His hands, still resting on your hips, tightened slightly as he stared at you, trying to gauge how serious you were—or how far he could let himself go without losing control.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out broken despite his best efforts, and you lean back to look at his face, your hands holding onto his shoulders.

“It would make a nice Christmas gift.” You admit, almost bashful, but maintaining eye contact.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. The playful tension had melted away, replaced by something heavier, more profound.

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course, not” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “I want that too. I want a family with you.”

His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t quite get enough of you.

Namjoon let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes closing as if to let your words sink in fully. When he opened them again, his gaze was filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart feel like it might burst.

“I really fucking love you.” He murmured, his hands settling more firmly on your hips, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between you.

Your lips quirked into a small smile, your hands moving to cradle his face. “You better,” you whispered back. “I’m your wife, after all.”

Without warning, his arms tightened around you, and in one smooth motion, he stood up, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace.

You let out a startled gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders for balance.

“Namjoon!”

But he only laughed at your reaction, the sound of it lighting up his features as he carried you down the hallway with ease. His fingers pressed gently into your skin, steadying you, and even despite your mock annoyance, your heart still fluttered at the way he held you—like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Don’t think being my wife means you can get away with teasing me like that,” he murmured. His steps were steady, purposeful, the warm glow of the bedroom lights spilling out into the hallway as he nudged the door open with his foot.

You grinned, brushing a soft kiss against his jaw. “Actually, I think it means exactly that.”

He shook his head, his lips curving into a smirk as he laid you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering as if reluctant to let you go, while your legs remained wrapped around his hips, his hard cock pressing against your thigh. His gaze roamed over you, warm and full of affection, but the spark of desire in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned over you, bracing himself with one arm while the other trailed down your side, sending a delicious shiver through you.

“You love it,” you replied, your tone just as playful as you tugged him closer.

Namjoon hummed, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started sweet but quickly deepened, every touch and movement making you feel lighter, like you were floating.

His soft lips were moving yours and controlling the kiss, and you melted in his arms, letting him do anything he wanted. He pushed your lips open, and you willingly allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, moaning against him when he hooked it around your lip to softly bite on it.

His movements were slow and deliberate, as if savouring every second of the connection between you two. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders to push away his shirt, letting it fall off somewhere, and in response, Namjoon pressed against you further, pushing you into the mattress.

You can feel the weight of his body on you, every inch of him pressed against your curves, and you revel in the sensation, though it does very little to soothe the burning ache spreading through you. You try to arch your back, try to make your hips meet, desperate to feel more of him, but Namjoon keeps you pinned down. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you're lightheaded from the kiss, each one of his lingering touches drawing you deeper.

His hands move with purpose, gliding down your arm and leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. Each touch feels purposeful, yet it only strokes the fire within you, the tension between you building with every measured caress.

Namjoon shifts, his lips abandoning yours to travel along your jaw and neck. Soft and warm, they graze your skin, leaving a searing path of heat that makes your breath hitch with every press of his mouth.

The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his breath on your neck made your head spin, the room narrowing to just the two of you.

 You gasp when he nips at your neck, his lips a welcome contrast to the sting of his teeth. His hips rock against yours, and you moan at the feeling, even if it's just his length pressing against you, but at this point, you’d take anything to ease the lustful haze that clouded your mind.

“Joonie,” you whimper squeezing your thighs around his hips, “Please.”

You fought to keep your breathing steady, but it was a losing battle.

 “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your skin, his voice soft like caramel, dripping with longing, his hands still caressing the sides of your body, stopping over your breasts, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra.

You mewl, arching instinctively towards his touch. “Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice hushed, sounding so needy that you barely recognise it as your own.

His eyes shift to your face for a quick second, a big teasing smirk tugging on his lips.

“Mmm, I will.” He replies casually, before pinching your nipples through your bra. A little whimper falls from your lips as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you.

He tugs your bra down, letting your tits spill out, and with an almost primal movement, he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand continues to tease and pinch the other one. You gasp, throwing your head back, letting out soft moans as your fingers weave themselves into his hair, pulling him closer.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breaths against your chest, goosebumps erupting across your skin, before switching his attention to your other nipple.

You look down at him, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire. His hands slide down your body and you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your spandex shorts, tugging them down your legs, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable before him.

He lifts his head from your breast, his lips red and slightly swollen, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. You feel a flicker of shyness wash over you, an instinctive reaction under his steady, adoring eyes. It isn’t that Namjoon ever made you feel uncomfortable—far from it. If anything, he had taught you more about how to love yourself than anyone else ever had.

But still, those small insecurities lingered, faint whispers at the back of your mind. The little things only you noticed, the things you thought didn’t measure up. You tried to push them away, focusing instead on the warmth in Namjoon’s gaze, the way his touch seemed to erase every doubt and hesitation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but brimming with conviction, like he couldn’t hold the words back even if he tried. His eyes traced every curve and detail, lingering as if memorizing you all over again. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he whispered, the words tinged with awe before he leaned down to place slow, deliberate kisses along your ribs.

A shaky moan slipped from your lips, a sound of your clear frustration as his seemingly endless patience began to test your resolve. He chuckled softly against your hip, the vibration of it sending a wave of heat through you.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, your voice teetering on a plea, your fingers threading through his hair to tug gently.

His lips paused their trail, his gaze lifting to meet yours, mischief and adoration mingling in his dark eyes. “What is it, love?”

“Stop teasing,” you demanded, your tone shaky but resolute. “I swear to god-” but before you could finish your threat, Namjoon’s fingers swipe across your pussy, rendering you absolutely speechless.

“Holy fucking shit.” Namjoon breathed, the disbelief in his voice almost comical as his wide eyes flickered from your face to your cunt. “You’re dripping wet.” His fingers parted your lips, pulling them apart so he could see better. “Is the idea of me knocking you up turning you on this much?” His other hand joined in, both of them exploring your wetness, spreading it around. “Fuck.” He muttered, his fingers positioning at your entrance, sliding in and out of you easily.

You couldn't help but moan, your back arching as you pressed yourself into his touch. “Namjoon,” you sob, your voice filled with longing. “Please, just fuck me.”

“I will. I will,” he mumbles, moving lower to settle between your legs, spreading your thighs further apart, “After I get a taste.” He tacks on, quite proud of himself.

You couldn’t help but huff in frustration and desire as you felt his breath against your slick folds, ready to complain. But before you could get the words out, Namjoon quickly shuts you up, his mouth on you.

“Be good.” He warns, his tone firm but gentle, voice muffled against your pussy. As the words left his lips, his tongue darted out, tracing a line from your entrance all the way to your clit and then back down, causing you to shiver in pleasure. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open for him as he explored every inch of you, his fingers moving in tandem with his lips.

“Joon,” you whimpered, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to control the rhythm, your hips trashing against his face. He chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of heat through you, but his patience never wavered, even as your breaths became shorter and your whimpers turned into moans.

He slurped loudly, pressing his face in hard as he moved his lips and tongue expertly. You couldn’t help throwing your head back and moaning, the movement completely involuntary to you. His head moved around as he devoured you like a starving man, moaning to himself as he worked, his tongue lapping at your wetness, before coming back up to your clit and sucking hard, driving you crazy with the way his fingers moved and arched against your sweet spot.

“Namjoon!” Your eyes closed and you bit your lip, trying to muffle your moans, feeling the way his tongue swirled around your opening and licked up your wetness like he was savouring every drop of you.

He was worshipping you, consuming you like he’d been starving for you, growling whenever you pulled his hair too hard or moaned for him in a way he liked. Your back arched and you let yourself close your eyes, unable to stop yourself as your loud moans turned into gibberish, raising in pitch as he brought you right up to the edge.

His name was falling from your lips like a prayer, your hips bucking, thighs trembling and stomach clenched. You felt like you were about to explode, but he didn’t let up, not until you were unravelling against his touch. Your orgasm was so sudden, so violent and unexpected that you didn’t even get a chance to warn him, wave after wave of staggering pleasure washing over you, rendering you an absolute useless mess in his grasp.

 Namjoon didn't miss a beat, continuing his assault on your pussy as you came hard around him. Your muscles quivered and pulsed, and he groaned, the sound reverberating through you and adding to the intense pleasure crashing through your veins. And he didn't stop, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your body, his fingers pushing your release in his mouth.

As you slowly came down from your high, Namjoon gently kissed your inner thighs, his lips warm and soft against your sensitive skin. You could feel his proud smile against you, and you couldn't even find the energy to glare at him.

It wasn't until your breaths evened out and your body went limp that you finally managed to push him away, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips when he looked up at you.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked, his voice twinged with amusement, although a little breathless.

You couldn't be bothered to reply, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. But you managed a small, satisfied smile, your eyes closed in contentment.

“I told you I would take care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing softly against your hip. At that you chuckled, the sound light and airless, the remnants of pleasure still humming through your body like an electric current.

Namjoon began a slow ascend, pressing soft kisses against your skin as he went, each one making your breath hitch just a little more. When he finally reached your lips, his gaze was heavy with intent. He kissed you deeply, and the moment you tasted yourself on his tongue, a wave of heat crashed over you.

Your lips parted instinctively, drawing his tongue deeper as you sucked on it, the sensation unravelling something primal in your mind. A soft, desperate moan escaped against his mouth, your hands fisting into his hair as you clung to him, utterly consumed by him, by his mouth, by his hands against your hips. By Namjoon. Your husband.

“Ready for me to fuck you now, my love?” he asked, his voice low, a whisper against your lips, but one that sent a new wave of wetness to your core.

 You were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence, so your let your hand drop to hips and pull him closer, eager for him to take you.

You could feel his hard cock press against your entrance, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to glance down and watch as he positioned himself at your opening. A low moan falling from your lips as you waited for him to thrust inside you.

But instead, Namjoon teases you further, swiping his cock against your wet folds, driving you wild.

“C’mon love, don’t leave me hanging. Say something.” He chuckles, watching your expression carefully as he pushes the head of his cock against your clit, circling it.

That completely makes you snap, a flurry of uncoherent begging and threatening falling from your lips, filling the little space between your heavy breathing and his low chuckles.

“Please, please, please Namjoonie. Fuck me. Get me pregnant. God! Move! You always do this,” your head falls back against the pillow, tears prickling at the inside of your eyes, your fingernails digging in his skin. “Knock me up, please. Just fuck me. I’ll delete your homework gradings if you don’t.”

He bets you have almost no idea what you were spewing, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Not when his heart swelled with love and desire at your words. He couldn’t resist you any longer. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you just for a second longer, before he finally pushes inside, agonizingly slow.

You gasp, your body trembling in his arms, feeling him fill you all the way to the brim. The feeling of him bare inside you, the warmth and the intimacy of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein. You feel every movement and every thrust as if it's the first time all over again. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelming, that you can't help but let out a series of weak, trembling moans every time he moves inside you.

“Holy fucking shit, you feel so fucking good.” Namjoon whimpered, his hips slapping against you, pulling almost all the way out before filling you up again, “Fuck, you're so tight. I can feel every inch of you, gripping me, love.”

The sound of your skin slapping fills the bedroom with his steady thrusts, punctuated by the occasional slap of his balls against your ass. You gasp, your orgasm building deep inside you. You can feel it coiling in your belly, ready to explode at any moment.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” you moan, your hips moving in time with his.

“Shit love, look at that.” Namjoon presses a hand hard against your lower stomach, “Can you feel it?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. “Can you feel how deep I'm inside you, how close I am to filling you up?”

His words sent another wave of heat crashing over you, and you nodded eagerly, your breath hitching as you felt his hand press against your stomach. His cock, so deep  and snug in you that you can feel the bulge faintly against your abdomen as he moved.

You nodded frantically, your eyes wide as you felt him pulse inside you. The thought of him coming inside you, of him potentially getting you pregnant, only served to heighten your pleasure. You were so close, so unbearably close to the edge, and with each thrust, you felt yourself slipping closer and closer to the brink.

“Yes, yes, I can feel it,” you gasped, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “Please, Namjoon, please fill me up. I want to feel you cum inside me, fill me up, I want to carry your baby.”

Namjoon's thrusts grew more desperate, spurred on by your pleas, more urgent as he chased his release, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside you, hitting places you didn’t think possible.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Don't stop,” you beg, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Don't you dare stop!”

But of course, ever the contrarian, Namjoon pulls out, making you scream in frustration. An elongated, miserable “Nooo,” falling from your lips, your body going limp, “God! Namjoon! I swear-” but he ignores you, flipping you over on your stomach.

You still angle your hips up in invitation, although angrily, your body trembling with anticipation and frustration. You’ve known your husband long enough to know how he liked to play, and how to play his games. You plant your knees on the mattress, lifting your ass higher in the air as your chest falls against the pillows, slowly swaying your hips for him.

 Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Watching you offer yourself to him so willingly, so eagerly. He can’t resist your lure much longer. He positions himself behind you, his fingers tracing a path down your spine before grasping your hips firmly. You feel the head of his cock against your entrance once more, and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips, as again, he swipes it against your clit before sinking into you.

This new position allows him to reach deeper somehow, and you can feel him hitting your sweet spot with every movement. Your fingers clench the sheets as he starts to thrust harder, his hips meeting your ass with a satisfying slap, and you push back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke, your pleasure mounting right back up, bringing you closer to the edge.

 Sweat starts to collect at your hairline, your breath hitching with each of his powerful thrusts.

“That's it, love. Take all of me,” Namjoon growls, his lips finding your neck as he continues to fuck into you. His hand snakes around to find your clit, and he starts rubbing slow circles around it, making your knees buckle under your own weight.

Your body trembles as he pushes you closer and closer to ecstasy. You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode at any moment, with any one of his thrusts that hits right against your g-spot.

“Namjoon, I'm so close,” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets like a lifeline.

“I know, love. I can feel it. Let go, let me feel you come undone for me,” he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with need, his fingers flicking your clit softly, completely stealing the breath from your lungs. “Let me feel you clench around my cock baby.”

His words are your undoing. You cry out, dissolving into pleasure, everything around you cutting to white noise. Your elbows give way, and you collapse onto the mattress, completely boneless as he coaxes wave after wave of bliss from your trembling body.

His hands fly to your hips, holding you up for him as his thrusts grow more erratic, dragging out your orgasm and making you clench so hard against him that his movements stutters. You felt utterly weightless, as though your body had melted into the sheets, as if you had no strength left to hold yourself together.

“I’m so close,” Namjoon moaned your name, his sounds growing lounder and more uninhibited, as he relentlessly chased his own climax.

“Cum inside me,” you beg, egging him on. “Fill me up with your seed. Make a baby with me.”

His movements falter, his most base instincts taking over, and with one final, powerful thrust, he releases. Filling you up with his hot, sticky cum, you can feel it, coating your insides and leaking out. You clench around him, another orgasm, less intense but just as blissful as the first one washes over you.

The feeling of him coming inside you, the warmth and the intensity of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel your heart racing, your entire body trembling with the aftershock. You can feel him still inside you, pulsing to the rhythm of his own release, and the sensation of it is just overwhelming.

“Fuck, love,” Namjoon whispers, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. “That was...incredible.”

You can only nod in agreement, your breathing still heavy and uneven. You can feel him softening inside you, but you don't want him to pull out. You want to stay like this forever, connected in the most intimate way possible, his full body weight on you.

But eventually, he does pull out, rolling onto his back beside you and you snuggle up against him, your head resting on his chest as you catch your breath. You can feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, broken only by your breathing, a soft, tired chuckle escaped your lips. You rested your chin on his chest, gazing up at him through fluttering eyelashes, a playful glint in your eyes.

“You have a breeding kink.” You state with a sly grin, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Namjoon huffs, his lips quirking into a faint smirk as he mutters, “Maybe.”

“Good,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Means you’ll enjoy these next few months.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair as his gaze locks onto you, full of equal parts amusement and surrender.

“Fuck. You’ll be the death of me, woman.”

[racew1nn3rs]

─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘷. (𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺) 🍑

⤷ summary: austria. mclaren pr department can't read the room so shit officially hits the fan. at least y/n is getting paid for her troubles. lando thinks he can think his way out of this one 🤣

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"You want us to what?" Y/n asked incredulously.

There is no way. No. Fucking. Way.

"I know this may seem out of the blue, or even slightly unorthodox, however-" Michael started. Thirty-nine years old, head of the McLaren PR Department, her boss, and he thought this was only 'slightly' unorthodox. Right.

"I think we're a little past slightly, don't you think?" Lando muttered from the chair next to her. He wasn't looking at her directly anymore.

She had successfully ignored 127 messages, 53 phone calls, 3 emails, and a handful of indirect messages from Oscar, and he still didn't seem to get the hint. She shot him down once again when he tried to approach her before their meeting, after she had purposefully shown up as soon to the start time as possible to avoid him. Maybe that had been the final straw and he had understood she had no intention of speaking to him.

Lando's eyes met hers and Y/n swallowed down the guilt at his kicked puppy dog look. He was very good at looking pathetic, and she was starting to become skilled at ignoring it.

Not skilled enough.

"I'm well aware this is putting you both in a very precarious position, especially you Y/n considering your career," Michael continued, "but since you two have begun to interact on social media our numbers have nearly tripled. We've increased our social following across all platforms, we've increased engagement, Christ, we've even increased our merch sales. But if you two dated, a real, PR contract-based relationship, the results would be more than we could have hoped for at the start of the project."

"That was the point of hiring me," Y/n said sitting up. Yes, she was annoyed, but at this point who could blame her, "I knew my strategy of personalizing ourselves to the internet would work. I told you guys this would happen, and if we keep to it we could probably still reach these numbers you're looking for. What you're suggesting doesn't seem a bit far to you? A bit too risky?"

"Honestly, Y/n, the fact of the matter is this: we could increase what you've already started. If we go through with this project, we could see a skyrocket in our social media. This could do wonders for the team, especially given the results this season. No offense, Lando."

The Brit seemed to be dragged out of his thoughts at the comment and he simply shrugged and waved his hands impassively. Y/n intentionally ignored his disregard for the situation, because jumping across her seat and choking him would not solve any of her current problems- even if she really, really wanted to choke him.

"Do you understand what this can do to my career? This would look so unprofessional for me. The point of a PR relationship is that it doesn't really seem like a fake relationship. It would seriously decrease my options if or when I leave McLaren if it seems like I date my coworkers. You're basically condemning me to a life where I would never be hired again. I won't do it. I can't do this." Y/n said shakily, before standing up. It felt like she couldn't breathe, and it's not like she could turn to Lando for comfort in this because they weren't even friends. Not that he seemed all that bothered anyway. Lando seemed perfectly comfortable staring into space like the airhead he was.

Zak, who had been standing calmly in the corner of the room leaned toward her and squeezer her shoulder comfortingly. She had no doubt he knew how uncomfortable this situation must be for her. Unfortunately for her, he just didn't seem to care. Or at least not enough.

Michael sighed and stood up as well, walking around the desk he was sitting at so he was directly in front of her and Lando and sit on the desk itself.

"I hear your concerns Y/n, I really do, but you cannot truly expect that we wouldn't have some safety measures in place for your protection, can you? When I said this would be a contractual relationship, I meant it. There would be physical evidence that you were not violating any workplace policies, and were instead participating in a project that involved the relationship you would be a part of. We would provide any future employers with proof of this, given that they are willing to sign an NDA. You would not be left at risk in your future endeavors," Michael explained sympathetically. Y/n couldn't help but feel the insincerity of his words in comparison to his face.

They understood they were putting her in an uncomfortable position. They understood they were endangering her career no matter how many contracts she signed. And yet here they were, asking anyways.

"And if I just don't want to?" She asked and she heard Zak sigh from behind her. He took his hand off her shoulder.

Oh.

"Then I'm afraid we've reached a standstill here, haven't we?" Michael said. She inhaled sharply and looked down.

Oh. They were going to fire her. Of course.

"Are you serious?" Y/n finally turned to look at Lando. At some point in between when she had last looked at him and since she had begun to have her job dangled in front of her face he had stood up. He looked angry, not that he hadn't looked some variation of hurt, angry, and sad since he arrived.

"You can't seriously be threatening to fire her, right in front of me, over a project that no one in their right mind would agree to without any incentive. You do realize you haven't really offered her anything that would make her agree don't you? Do you do this to all of your employees or just the ones who carry nearly an entire department on their back?" Lando spit out angrily. He wasn't yelling, but he had sure as hell left the station of speaking calmly a while ago.

"Lando," Zak started through grit teeth, but Michael held up a hand.

"You're right Lando, I'm sorry, let me-"

"Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one whose job you were just threatening."

"You're right," Michael cleared his throat and returned back to his chair, "I'm sorry Y/n. Truly. I don't think we've approached the topic correctly at all. Let me start over. There is, of course, some incentive for you."

Y/n sighed, and looked over at Lando. Like usual, he was already looking at her. He was letting her take the reigns of the situation, he was letting her be in charge.

Because he respects you, a small part of her brain whispered and she closed her eyes and breathed in. She wasn't thinking about that anymore. She couldn't think about him anymore.

She sat down and stared at Michael. He could continue, but that didn't mean she would agree. Lando sat down as well, glaring at Zak over his shoulder until the older man walked away from behind Y/n's chair and back to the inconspicuous corner he had been in when they started.

"We had some extra money allotted in the budget," Michael started uncomfortably, pushing his glasses up his nose. His voice was wavering and uncertain, making his British accent even thicker. Y/n seemed to have an affinity for upsetting British men this week. Call it American reparations or whatever, but she was finding the prospect quite enjoyable.

"There would be a salary increase for you, should you choose to participate in the project." Michael stated, as he shifted some papers around on the desk. He uncapped a pen and wrote down a number on a piece of company branded legal pad paper. He folded the paper and slid it across the desk. Y/n, who had begun rubbing her temples irritatedly, closed her eyes as she sighed through her nose before reaching a hand out to look. Lando's hand slid in front of hers and grasped the paper before she could.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she looked at him incredulously as he unfolded the paper Michael had passed.

"Lando," Michael began and Lando cut the man off with a scoff. He crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash.

"You're asking the girl to put her career on the line and that's the amount that you offer?" Lando scoffed. Michael continued to try to speak but Lando held his hand up.

"Let's break this down properly before we make anymore stupid offers," Lando said, voice dripping the arrogance that typically bothered Y/n the most.

"You're asking her to stick out her neck for a PR project that may not work the way you're hoping, you'll be expecting her to keep performing her current work functions while also appearing at additional McLaren events as my partner. On top of all of that, you'll probably also want us to be making public appearances on days and times where she wouldn't be working at all anyway," Y/n thought briefly that this might be the most serious she had ever heard him sound.

"You also can't expect anyone to believe any of this if she doesn't also behave like we're dating in public, and expecting physical affection with someone she isn't actually dating is a lot to ask of someone who isn't a robot, if you weren't already aware," Lando stated patronizingly.

"And that's not even acknowledging the multiple hostile workplace environment policies you've broken in this meeting alone. I really hope you're not expecting her to sign a contract right now without a lawyer on top of that, considering that's illegal." Lando finished, staring at Michael with more anger she had ever seen him show.

"So maybe we should try a much bigger number," Lando said, leaning forward in his chair, "might I recommend doubling it?"

Why was he doing this. She hadn't even heard him out since their argument, ignoring any attempts at conversation, and now he was fighting tooth and nail in a room where no one else was defending her. Including the CEO of the company, who quite literally held his job in his hands.

Maybe that's just his charm. That he never thinks things through. That he doesn't think at all, whether it hurts someone else or himself in the process or not. It's just in his nature to fight first and ask questions later. She couldn't decide whether that was something she could handle or not.

Michael cleared his throat and wrote a number down quickly, handing it to Lando this time instead of her. Lando looked at the number and turned to look at her, nodding and handing the paper over.

Y/n fumbled with the paper slightly before opening it and exhaling sharply through her nose. Right in front of her eyes was a one, a five, and 5 whopping zeroes.

One and a half million dollars. Lando had just gotten her one and a half million dollars.

"This," Y/n started with a shaking voice, before clearing it with a harsh swallow. This was more money than she had ever seen before in her life.

"This is what you're offering me instead of my current salary?" She asked uncertainly. She was getting a headache from the tension of the furrow of her brows.

"No of course not," Lando started, never looking away from Michael.

"This is a bonus they're offering in addition to your current salary, right?" He narrowed his eyes at Michael. Michael nodded aggressively.

"Yes of course. This would be a bonus for participating in the project. You would be receiving your current salary as well for the work you were already participating in," Michael assured and his shoulders slumped in relief when Lando looked away to finally look at her.

"You don't have to make any decisions now," Lando began gently, eyes visibly softening, but Y/n could hardly hear him.

Half a million dollars would be more than enough to pay off her student loans. One and a half million dollars was more money than she even knew what to do with.

"I'll do it," She agreed.

One and a half million dollars, she reassured herself as Lando smiled at her softly. She smiled back. She was only doing this for the money; the one and a half million dollars.

Lando ignored the fluttering in his stomach as she smiled at him for the first time all day. He cheered internally. Who cared about money, this would be perfect. He would make sure to be perfect.

Lando would be the best fake boyfriend she could ever ask for, starting now.

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liked by mclaren, lilyzneimer, and 38,890 others

ynusername austria views hit different this time of year 🥴

19,208 comments

user1 you need a bark cause i can dog real loud

user2 so close op, but not quite!

user1 ... i'm too embarrassed to try again atp

user3 A SOFT LAUNCH?? ON THIS FINE TUESDAY EVENING??

user4 i HATE happy couples, they ruin my mood fr

user5 no deadass, like i hope y'all find out you're cousins

user4 she's dating a m*n i feel so sick

user5 the white men got her 🧎‍♀️

user6 you know who else is in austria 👀

user7 i want to tell you to be fr... but lowkey that does look like lando

user8 BE SO FR YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE HIS FACE

user9 i can't believe i'm lany/n truthing in god's year of 2023, but i am

user10 maybe lany/n is the friends we made along the way

user9 don't patronize me bitch iT'S RIGHT THEREEEEE

landonorris what book are you reading 🤨

ynusername stop acting like you know how to read

landnorris i didn't want to know anyways 😀👍

user11 damn girl they pay you to do this 😫 i don't even get vacation days

ynusername hi i'm saul goodman. did you know that you have rights? the constitution says you do. and so do i ☝️

user12 going on a date on a work trip, are we? 🫣

ynusername let's just call it an employee outing (;

user12 WAHT DOES THAT MEAN Y/N???

user13 OH MY GOD???

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liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, and 40,103 others

mclaren lando norris p4? more likely than you think (ignore oscar, an intern let him out of his cage again) 😞

user14 he looks so happy, no one speak to me ever again

user15 it's that y/n effect

oscarpiastri quick question! WHAT THE FUCK.

oscarpiastri i am NOT an animal 😡 i don't need a cage

lilyzneimer DON'T YELL AT HER OSCAR 🫵 I'LL HAVE THE INTERN PUT YOU BACK.

mclaren yeah oscar 🤨 watch it

oscarpiastri this isn't a funny joke 😔 this isn't haha funny

user16 lando's best results after there are rumors they've started dating... hmmmm

user17 omg not y'all starting already

user16 what can i say the fanfics write themselves

user18 oscar fans can never catch a break, huh?

user19 i knew that last post was too good to be true

user20 @/oscarpiastri what happened to bribery??

oscarpiastri sorry guys, i pissed her off 😓

user21 ig since lando's off the shit list someone had to take his place

landonorris i got p4 for you admin 🤭

mclaren this is workplace harassment

landonorris ):

mclaren 🎻🤏 (it's the world's smallest violin playing the world's saddest song)

landonorris alright, fuck you ig

user23 lando flirting in the comments and then getting turned down in the most humiliating manner, what's new

landonorris ... it wasn't that humiliating

user23 🎻🤏

landonorris STOP OT NOW.

user24 i know y/n's boyfriend is reading these comments and weeping

user25 boy oh boy do i have news for you op

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liked by user26, landonorris, and 21,844 others

f1wags Various sources have reported seeing Y/n L/n, the current McLaren social media manager and McLaren F1 Driver Lando Norris together across Austria during the GP weekend, and celebrating after. Various kisses and intimate interactions were reported by our sources, including the ones pictured above. What do we think about this new workplace romance?

9,450 comments

user26 IS THIS REAL???? IS THIS REALLLLLL??????

user27 THE PICTURES ARE THERE BUT I STILL DON'T BELIEVE IT

user28 they're so cute, it almost makes me forget that this is the most insane thing i'll see all year

user29 bro beat the norizz allegations

user30 THE KISS?? THE BEACH PICTURES??? THE DINNER HUG??? OH THEY'RE IN LOVE IN LOVE

user31 they grow up so fast

user32 he's not hot enough for her, next question!

user33 be so serious 🙄

mclaren zoo wee mama

user34 THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF????

mclaren hubba hubba

user35 from the team account is diabolical

user36 and they say bullying isn't a love language

user37 she hated on him so hard he fell in love with her

landonorris damn right she did

user38 lando try not to be down bad challenge *impossible* *never seen before*

user39 oh i know the twitter users that have been getting hate for weeks for saying the truth are MADDDD

user40 they couldn't have been more obvious, we've been in denial

user41 the eyes chico, they never lie

user42 oh i know zak brown is throwing up over this pr nightmare

user43 right like i think people are forgetting she's an employee 💀

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liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 77,954 others

landonorris post-p4 cooldown 🧡

25,001 comments

oscarpiastri what's all this then 🧍‍♂️

oscarpiastri i really love how you're so good about telling me things 😮‍💨

user44 someone free oscar from lany/n bro

user45 this was NOT on my 2024 bingo card

user46 i don't think anyone could have predicted lando having rizz

ynusername so true

landonorris HEY.

danielricciardo i wasn't familiar with your game lando

landonorris STOP HITTIG ON HER SHES MINE

danielricciardo damn lil bro no one is taking her from you

user47 "she's mine" down horrendous once again

user48 bro was born down horrendous i fear

carlossainz55 i can't believe you didn't tell me lando! congratulations

landonorris it was a secret you muppet 🙄 but thank you

maxverstappen1 you too make a great couple! congrats mate 🤝

ynusername this was the most max verstappen way you could have said this

maxverstappen1 still bullying me i see 😔

lilyzneimer CUTIE PATOOTIES <3 oh and hi lando

landonorris can't even be mad cause they are too damn cute 😫

lilyzneimer good answer!

bsfuser1 congratulations i guess (she was mine first) 🙄

landnorris thanks! (we can share)

bsfuser2 hurt her and i kill you!!! so cute together tho <3

landonorris you lot are fucking terrifying!! appreciate it (:

zbrownceo Congratulations you two! Can't imagine a better pair 🧡💪

landonorris Thanks Zak!!!

ynusername you gave cali kisses so i guess you're alright <3

landonorris as many kisses as my girls want

user49 MY GIRLS KMSSSS

user50 cat dad cat dad cat dad ‼️

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that's the end of act 1!!! part 2 coming shortly <3 i'm moving into college and starting classes so if updates slow down a bit just know i'm getting things out as quickly as i can ((: hope you enjoyed and feel free to leave your thoughts!!

-

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666