#how to be a millionaire in 3 years | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyunnie04 · 1 year ago

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cat and mouse

summary: your co-worker has been on your case ever since you've started your time at the company. a strange turn of events and circumstance changes all that.

pairing: coworker! lee know x reader

trope: enemies to lovers <3, office au

genre: slight angst, smut, and fluff

warnings: fem-bodied reader, oral, creampie, overstim, unprotected sex, bulge kink, spitting, etc. 18+ mdni

word count: 9.8k

a/n: a little practice piece for you guys, i hope i did well;; so sorry this took me so long to write :( i also hope it's cohesive enough, i keep writing this fic on and off sleep deprived lol

tick…

tock…

tick…

to-

“the clock isn’t going to speed up just because you keep staring at it.” the cubicle beside you chirps in, momentarily shaking you out of your thoughts. by now, you’ve trained to pay him no mind as you keep your focus on the clock that reads 4:56 pm, almost taunting you in a way.

a few more minutes and you’ll be home free for the weekend. maybe you can finally relax and get away from your dreaded paperwork. perhaps look through your shopping apps since you had nothing else better to do for the weekend, or better yet- you could run a well deserved bath with that bath bomb you always wanted to use but never got a chance to. all the possibilities sounded heavenly although all that would have to actually wait until you get home.

one other thing that you had been anticipating all day was having that dinner after work with jeongin- your close friend and coworker from a different department. he had been begging you for ages to finally try that one soba place that opened up nearby with him. you being a good friend, agreed.

“you might actually melt the clock if you keep doing that y’know.” your cubicle neighbor- lee minho smirks, now standing and leaning over your workspace.

"what do you want?" pointedly asking him.

"oh, nothing. nothing."

“you just don’t ever shut up, do you?” you deadpan and tilt your chin up to stare at him, minho just offers a sly smirk in return. he always liked to bother and butt into your business for some odd reason.

minho shrugs, “it’s fun teasing you. you do that thing where you scrunch your nose when you get riled up.” a vain visibly pops up from your forehead, but turn to your computer, hoping to drown him out with your typing.

you knew better than to give him a reaction. if you had a penny for how many times that particular vein popped from your forehead because of minho, you’d probably be a millionaire by now.

“oh, one more thing-” the brown haired man saunters back to his desk, and comes back to yours with a huge stack of papers. he unceremoniously plops it down, the annoying feline-like grin on his face.

“what’s…this?” raising an eyebrow at him, you hope it's not what you think he's planning. you have plans. he crosses his arms and pushes his framed glasses back.

“paperwork, of course.” you wanted to strangle him. “yes, i’m well aware that this is paperwork. why is it now on my desk?”

before you could protest any further, “they want this finished by next week.” he leans to practically whisper in your ear. minho grins mischievously after he sees your pink flustered face take a step back.

the humongous stack was already on his desk, so your boss most likely assigned it to him in the first place. you furrow your eyebrows and turn to him, worst fear coming true.

"ohh no. not in a million years." you get up from your seat, avoiding the offending pile. he starts going back to his desk, neatly placing his things in it's organizers.

“why can’t you finish it? you- what are you doing?” but minho was already grabbing his bag and blazer and looking at his wrist watch.

“would you look at the time- thanks for covering for me!” aaaand he's gone.

plopping down on your chair, you bury your face in your hands, stopping yourself from pulling out hair. frustration creases on your forehead. well, you could kiss that dinner with jeongin goodbye. now you definitely want to strangle him.

lee minho. if you were to find a personification of the word annoying, the brunette would certainly be it. that man has done nothing but annoy the hell out of you ever since you started your time in the company. other people in your department often regarded him as one of the most reliable and polite employees here.

you would inwardly scoff at the frequent mention of minho and his apparent “reliable-ness and politeness” since all he was, was just the opposite. to you at least. it was hard to believe at first.

but then you actually saw the way he carried himself with effortlessness and composure, handled business affairs, and how he mingled so seamlessly with fellow colleagues. it was nothing short of professional.

so you had a theory that he was only like that towards you. a complete dick only to you. you although weren’t quite sure why.

the girls in your department would often talk about him as well, mostly for his appearance. you really weren’t one for gossiping but you would listen in sometimes, curious about what they see in him. it was hard not to when they would gush about their workplace crushes and love lives so openly, a tinge of envy seeps through your bones every time it would be mentioned. you have got to get laid one day.

“he’s totally my type, you think i should ask him out?” your other cubicle neighbor says quite loudly during her break. her friend beside her shakes their head, “no, no you can’t.”

“why not? isn't he hot and available?” she asks absentmindedly. you start to zone out for a minute, only catching bits and pieces of their conversation. but you contemplate about what she said for a second, you would be lying if you said that lee minho was unattractive.

far from that actually. distinctly remembering catching a few glimpses of him from your first day, intrigued and interest piqued. his sharp nose and cheek bones, features were like sculpted by michaelangelo himself, his toned and lean figure accentuated by the perfectly well fit suit that he always seem to wear.

you definitely found him attractive at first.

that was until he started annoying you, so all of that was quickly out the window.

but you would probably end yourself before admitting that to anyone. you let out a disgruntled sigh, appearance wouldn’t really matter if he wasn’t such a knob to begin with.

as you approached your dimly lit street, all you could think about was that feline faced jerk. what was he thinking, dumping all that work on you last minute? you felt really bad about cancelling on jeongin, texting him earlier about the sudden change of schedule. the dark haired man you've come to know just replies with a little;

'we'll just try again next week lol'

you breathe out a relieved sigh, thankful that he wasn't mad. kicking the pebbles on the side of the road, you imagined that the little rocks were minho's face. you could not wait until you get home.

“stupid paperwork, stupid minho, stupid…”

your muttering fades and you suddenly stop in your tracks as your elderly neighbor waves you over from her front door, grandma lee or just grandma- as she insists you call her instead.

you bowed and greeted her, “hi grandma, did you need something?” you were quite close with the sweet old lady, her gray hair swaying lightly in the wind.

the elder would often check up on you after hearing that you traveled all the way from your hometown to the city, almost taking you in as her own. you were grateful for the company since homesickness would often creep up. she would also often bring you comically large jars of kimchi which you appreciated greatly.

she smiles as she gestures to the multiple bags she was holding, "i just need a little help getting these inside the house, dear." you take the heavy bags from her hands. what were in these, rocks? grandma claps her hands together in remembrance.

“have you had dinner yet? i made extra.”

grandma sets a bowl in front of you, the sight of seaweed soup instantly brings you comfort. your stomach grumbles as you dig in. she watches you intently as you practically inhale the soup, starved from the long and terrible day you had.

you sent her a polite questioning look. “i want to ask you for a favor.” she finally starts, flicking through the channels of her tv. the weather was on, the forecaster droning on about rain happening this week in the same monotone voice for the past 10 minutes. you look at her and nod immediately, she had done so much for you, doing a few favors aren't going to hurt.

“do you have a car, dear?”

blowing on the steaming hot seaweed soup, you nod again at her question, wondering where this conversation is heading.

“i need someone to drive me to my son’s house tomorrow, i'm staying over there for the weekend and my bags are a little heavy. would that be alright with you, dear?” you’ve heard about her family from her stories when she would have you over like now, little bits and pieces. you smile and agree.

a cheshire grin graces your features after a moment. “what’s in it for me?” it was a joke of course, grandma knew it too. having spent a large amount of time with her, your humor must’ve rubbed off at some point.

you didn’t expect her to actually answer but she replies, “actually, i’d like you to meet my grandson as well. i think you two would get along. he's the same age as you too.”

the aforementioned grandson was someone you’ve seen in a bunch of grandma lee’s hallway pictures. you remember that he was an only child, often the only kid and the lone subject in the photos. your favorite was the kid in red with a toothy grin. he must’ve been 5 when it was taken.

"it was a joke, grandma. i'm sure your grandson wouldn't want a stranger suddenly coming to meet him." she shakes her head,

"nonsense. that boy doesn't know what he wants." you laugh at her persistence. getting another bowl of rice, you ponder her offer for a second. maybe this could finally cure your dull and dry love life, it couldn't hurt to try. if worse comes to worst, you could just pretend it never happened.

“but of course, i’ll drive you there. i have nothing to do anyways.” you say with a mouthful of rice. grandma pats you on the back and continues to flick through the channels once more.

“thank you dear.”

the sunset blears through your windshield, sun rays momentarily blinding you. it was clear as day. the ride to her family’s house was relatively quiet, the elderly lady in your passenger seat preferred to sleep the whole ride through after handing you the address, giving you a moment to leave you in your thoughts.

pulling up to the neighborhood, you let out a low whistle. the house was at the end of the street, steep and uphill. it was surely going to be a struggle to get the car way up there.

you get to the curb, reverse and try to park your car as best as you can. the house was really pretty, you thought. it looked pretty lived in too, but in a cozy way. vines was sprawled all over the brick exterior and flowers had bloomed all over the property.

you wake up grandma and start to haul her luggage up and out the car.

"you go up, grandma. i'll catch up."

after struggling to get the multiple bags of luggage up hill, you finally waddle to the front door. the door was left slightly ajar, probably for your convenience. you took a quick peek around, hoping for someone to let you in.

calling out before entering, you were met with silence. you figured they were too busy catching up so you eventually let yourself in.

the furniture adorning the hallway and rooms were made out of wood, the handiwork and craftsmanship was evident, intricate carvings on each and every one of them. it must’ve been made by grandma lee’s son as you’ve heard from her many stories.

a ginger cat with white stripes greets you as you enter the front door, it strides over to you in intrigue. leaning down and dropping grandma's bags gently, you let the feline sniff your hand before allowing itself to be pet. soon enough it starts rubbing its body on your legs and purring loudly. adorable cat, you thought.

silence fills the house, aside from the soft chatter coming from the other side of the wall. the cat leaves it's spot, not wanting to be pet anymore. you sit up and observe the house again, noticing a myriad of family photos adorning the walls and some of the tables.

coming closer to one of the pictures, again, you encounter the same young boy in red but this time he was wearing a cap sideways and a puffer jacket that seemed to be way too big for him.

"hello! you must be y/n!" a feminine voice suddenly calls out from the living room. you straighten your back from the mention of your name, hoping she didn't catch you closely staring at their personal and probably private photos. grandma lee comes out from the living room as well and walks towards you with a younger and kind looking woman in tow. she had another cat in her arms, this time it's coat was gray with dark streaks.

you smile and greet her politely, exchanging pleasantries. you quietly pick up the neglected bags and place them near the guest room. they continue their conversation with each other from before, you now awkwardly standing in the middle. looking at your wrist watch, you figured you should probably head on home.

"i suppose i'll get going now, it was really nice meeting you." mrs. lee looked startled at your sudden announcement.

"why don't you stay for a while? it must've been a long drive here, you're probably hungry." these two women weren't related by blood but they practically were, having the same idea when it came to hospitality.

"well, i don't want to overstay my welcome. i'm just here to give grandma a ride." smoothening out your non-existent clothes wrinkles in apprehension.

she waves her hand in dismissal, "but you must stay, you're already here anyways." she grins and pats your back. mrs. lee didn't seem to budge at your refusal.

you relented, finally accepting her offer. "my son is in the kitchen whipping something up. he's a great cook." you totally forgot about her son being actually here. the joke offer from yesterday completely forgotten and flew out of your mind. slight embarrassment runs through you, realizing that the offer was somewhat serious. you would surely need to mentally prep yourself for more socialization than you've anticipated.

but you instantly believe her claim that her son was a great cook, the amazing and aromatic smell of what seems to be steak and multiple herbs and spices from the kitchen wafts through out the entire house.

"okay- while we're waiting," mrs. lee gestures for you to take a seat, "you should go sit on the couch, y/n. i've been dying to meet you."

she hands you a mug of hot tea and sits down next to you. "mom here talks about you all the time, thank you for keeping her company."

"it's no problem at all, i like her company too." and with that, the three of you fall into a smooth and comfortable rhythm of conversation. the younger of the two women across from you continues to poke and prod into life, not that you minded. she would ask you about your life, where were you from, where you went to school, and where you went to work and among other things.

she offers you stories of her son gleefully in return, laughing about a particularly embarrassing story when he was younger. you learned that he was quite fond and talented in dancing, loves cats, and loves to cook. oddly enough mrs. lee never mentioned his name at all, you didn't want to pry. now that you've thought about it, grandma hadn't mentioned his name at all either. all you had for a lead was initials you remember seeing etched on one of grandma's photos. you figured you'd meet this person soon enough anyways.

after a while, grandma lee retreats to the guest room they've set up, assuming that she'd want to fix her belongings. mrs. lee starts to drag you around the house, urging you to help her set the plates up and talk more while doing so. midway through placing the chopsticks on the table, the sound of pots and pans clanging from the other room shakes you out of your thoughts.

"mom?" a voice calls out from their kitchen. it must be her son. you slightly raise your eyebrows, he sounds oddly familiar but you can't place your finger who he might've sounded like. you quickly brush it off.

"yes?"

"have you seen the slow cooker?" the man finally reveals himself and pokes his head through the entryway to the kitchen.

you lift your head and lock eyes with the said person. shock freezes your movements, dropping the utensils that you were holding. blinking owlishly in surprise, you weren't sure if what you were seeing was real.

you feel the wind knock out of your lungs. this was not happening. the brown eyes, brown hair, and cat like face from work that you've come to dislike stared back. you must be hallucinating.

standing across from you was lee minho, the lee minho. grandma lee’s grandson. the same one that's been tormenting you all year round. you just couldn't believe it, wondering what kind of luck you had to end up here.

you think back to when you looking (--more like snooping) at grandma lee's framed hallway photos, the kid- that was him all along? you're really bad at recognizing faces, you thought to yourself. well, she certainly made him seem like a complete angel from the stories.

"oh! this is y/n. your grandmother invited her to eat dinner with us." mrs. lee pulls your figure closer into a side hug and beams at her son.

he furrows his eyebrows at you, glancing back and forth at you and his mother. he must be as confused and shocked as you are. "hi." minho says, nodding at your direction. you purse your lips and shuffle uncomfortably in place.

minho again asks where the slow cooker was since the first time he asked was ignored. he was wearing a loose fitting shirt, his broad shoulders looking more prominent. you realize you've never seen him outside of his work attire before. he looked comfortable, domestic even.

his mom says to check the cupboards, paying him no mind and continuing to set the table up. minho nods slowly, eyes not leaving yours and heads back to the kitchen. a little shell shocked about your little encounter, you clear your throat and go back to the task at hand. you'd just have to deal with this for the evening and then you could go home.

when the table was done, mrs. lee turns to you, "y/n? would you mind helping minho over there with bringing the side dishes to the table?" you freeze at the realization that you would have to interact with him alone.

"sure." you say meekly. she thanks you and goes to the guest room to presumably get the older lady for dinner. psyching your self up before entering the kitchen, his broad back facing you. he senses your presence and chuckles.

you were sure he was going to make this whole night unbearable.

"well, this is a nice surprise."

"what are you doing here?" stupid question from you seeing as this was his own house. mentally face palming your head, he hums smugly and starts dividing the side dishes onto smaller plates. you notice his very toned arms flexing as he puts the tubs away.

"i should be asking you that. i didn't expect you to be here." he says nonchalantly, but you could feel a sly smile forming on his face as he speaks.

"neither did i." you grumble and lightly shove him aside, wanting to get the side dishes out to the table already. you ignore the way he looks so domestic right now.

you stare at him from directly across the table, hoping he would keep his mouth shut. he smirks while he eats, purposefully riling you up and glancing at you with a knowing grin.

do not lose your cool, y/n.

silence rings out the dining room aside from the quiet clattering of utensils on plates.

"y/n?"

"i'm sorry?" you snap out of your little less than friendly staring contest with him.

"do... you know each other?" his mother finally breaks the silence and here eyes flickers back and forth between both of you.

"yes-"

"no-"

a full on headache is surely forming now, it's going to be hard to hide your annoyance. quick, think of a lie.

"we're coworkers. same company." you grimace as he answers for the both of you. no use in hiding it now. "oh! that's wonderful." the older lady to your right clasps her hands in delight.

"you didn't tell me you worked together." grandma turns to you grinning brightly. you avoid eye contact with her, nodding and forcing out a smile. you wanted nothing more than want the ground to swallow you up right then and there.

"you two must be close." his mother says, sipping at her drink. you were about to open your mouth to say that you really aren't actually, but minho beats you to the punch.

"we kind of are." minho rests his elbows on the table and turns to you. he's enjoying this. the bastard was enjoying this. resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back to finish your meal.

hatred for the man aside, he really was a great cook as mentioned countless of times. you actually find yourself enjoying the meal he had prepared.

"tell me what you two get up to at work, i want to hear all of it."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, being honest wouldn't be the best idea. you didn't want these two lovely women to know how much of an unpleasant man their son and grandson is. and it was his house after all, the best decision might be to at least be civil with him.

so you play along with his facade, not wanting to disappoint them even if it was probably going to bite you in the ass later.

minho starts cutting the meat up into bite sized pieces while the conversation between the two ladies continue. he places it on your plate without saying anything. this takes you by surprise, looking at his face for an answer.

the two audience members among the dining table seems to have noticed your little exchange. a wrinkly hand touches over yours catches your attention.

"oh, so are you two..." she trails off, implication heavy on her tone.

"no- no, grandma. i told you i wasn't seeing anyone." you shoot a discrete glare towards minho.

"ah, i see..."

you shrink down your seat for the remainder of the hour, embarrassment flooding your being. why did he have to do that? you were already practically fighting for your life not to get too involved with all this, and he pulls that?

after that very eventful dinner, it was already nearing 8 pm. you figured that you should probably get out of their hair, not wanting to disturb them than you already had. that bubble bath and movie marathon you had planned in your head sounded amazing right about now. maybe that would help you forget about this crazy night.

"grandma," she turns in response, "i think i better get going." you smile at her, digging through your pockets for the car keys. a different cat from the other two that you've met takes long strides, stopping by your feet. you greet it by petting it's head gently. you wondered how many cats they have.

"now? look at the weather dear," you look briefly at the window nearest you, surely enough it was heavily pouring. you deflate at the sight.

"i don't think it's a great idea to drive out in a storm." she looks at you in concern. crap. the conversation at dinner must've carried you away, not even noticing the angry rumble of thunder that came from the sky. she was right, you don't think you could drive out there immediately.

the last time you drove into hard pelting rain, you couldn’t see through the windshield and almost crashed your car in the process. you could still remember how your car swerved and screeched when you couldn't control the way the tires' direction.

reluctantly dropping your hands to your side in defeat, "i guess i can wait it out for a bit." you finally say.

"yes, please do stay. we made extra dessert!" mrs. lee chuckles, seemingly enjoying your presence. glancing at minho, he was leaning on the side of the couch watching the exchange between you three, uncharacteristically silent and expression unreadable.

you reckon he wasn't all that thrilled about the whole thing either.

"the storm isn't letting up." minho sighs next to you, observing the dark and heavy rain pelting the window. it continues to pour down, filing in the silence.

"great." you mumble lowly, crossing your arms. a loud cackle of thunder makes you jump from your spot. he just laughs in response. you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, anxiety quietly eating at you. damn weather man. you should've paid more attention to the forecast.

the smart watch on your wrist flashes with a notification. it was 11 pm now. "you should stay until tomorrow, dear."

you feel a comforting hand on your back, it was mrs. lee. it was only her staying with you two right now since grandma had already retired back to her room.

"tomorrow? oh, i- uh... i don't want to intrude." you stutter and look down, unsure how to accept her offer. but as much as you wanted to turn her down, you knew deep down you don't really have a choice in the matter.

another strike of thunder confirms your pitiful situation.

"i know what you're thinking, you can take minho's room." her words take you aback, that really wasn't what you were thinking. but she wasn't serious, was she?

at the mention of his name and apparent lending of his own bed, he whips his head towards his mother. he points to himself silently and gawks in disbelief.

you try to stifle a laugh at his ridiculous face. it wasn't often that you see minho all flustered.

realizing that mrs. lee might actually kick minho out of his room if you don't say anything, you decide to spare him. "that's okay, i'll take the couch."

"are you sure? the couch isn't the most comfortable..."

you reassure her that the couch is fine and not to worry. mrs. lee takes this as a confirmation that you'll stay for the night. she beams and grabs her son's shoulder,

"minho, do you have clothes that you can lend to y/n?" she catches you about to protest at the unnecessary offer, "don't worry about that, you're going to end up uncomfortable if you sleep in your clothes right now."

she leaves not long after with a quick good night to you both, also not leaving any room for any counter arguments. minho nods after registering what she said, hesitantly gesturing you to follow him towards the room at the end of the corridor.

he was quiet these past few hours, you observed. the annoying minho that you have gotten used to was no where to be found. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood. having a person that you dislike come into your home and spend the night would irk you as well.

the unexpected warm lighting and a subtle citrus scent with notes of jasmine and sandalwood welcomed you upon entering. it instantly brings comfort. not really expecting anything coming into his room, it was truly a pleasant surprise.

you stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, not wanting to touch or disrupt any of his space or belongings. he heads straight to his closet near his bed.

"it's alright, uh..."

minho ignores your attempt to refuse and starts digging deep for clothes that he could lend.

okay, nevermind.

you quietly glance at the homey decor that adorns the wall of his bedroom. multiple pictures of what you assume to be his friends were strewn all across the room. some of them seemed to be taken when he was in high school and some more recent. there were doing various funny and serious poses, minho seems to be really well liked.

"alright,"

he starts handing you a pair of black jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt. you reluctantly take the pile of clothes from him, your fingers momentarily brushing. you were certain you could hear your pulse thump in your ears. it confuses you greatly.

"this is the smallest one i have, sorry."

he coughs and rubs his neck, "the bathroom is over there, if you wanna change."

awkwardly shuffling on the way to the bathroom, a sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you lock the door behind. why were you so affected by a simple touch of his fingers? this was minho. you quickly shove the odd feeling down.

you hold the white shirt up to your torso, it was definitely too big. the hem of the shirt reaching your thighs and sleeves reaching your elbows as well.

peeling out of your clothes, and hold up minho's large shirt to finally wear. as you put it on, you could faintly smell the cleanness of detergent and a faint musky patchouli scent. your cheeks burn with the realization that you were really going to spend the night here.

when you return to the empty main corridor, the leather couch was already set up with a cozy looking blanket and multiple plush pillows. you struggle to hide a smile.

tossing and turning, you struggle to find a comfortable position on the couch. the blanket proving to be too hot right now, you push it off. you check your phone out of boredom and the led screen lights up.

1:19 am. it was in the middle of the night and the rain continues to pour outside. the occasional rumble of thunder once again evoking anxiety in you. sighing, you don't think you will be getting any sleep tonight. it's just you and your thoughts for now.

thinking back to this afternoon, the whole situation seems so absurd and surreal. who would've thought that you and minho would pretend being friends even if it was just for one night. it was a strange chance of circumstance.

the door from the end of hallway opens, a scruffy and disheveled minho rubs his eyes to get rid of his sleepiness. you sit up in curiosity to observe his sleepy state. he pads over the wooden floors to the kitchen looking for water, not sparing you a second glance.

when he was out of sight, you start thinking of ways to distract yourself, wanting to already succumb to slumber.

“oh, it’s you.” he says after coming back, finally noticing your slumped figure. "didn't sleep yet?" minho ruffles his hair haphazardly, trying to smoothen it down. you shake your head,

"insomnia. it's the thunder."

"ah."

"the couch is making your neck hurt isn't it?"

"yeah, that too."

he opens his mouth to hopefully offer another solution, but shuts it immediately. he wasn't sure if it would make you comfortable so he just stands there quietly.

"i'll go get you more pillows." he places his cup down on the coffee table before going to his room. minho stops in his tracks when he feels your fingers tug on his shirt. another strike of thunder flashes outside making you flinch.

"stay." you catch yourself saying before even realizing. it's selfish to ask but you don't think you could stand the thunder alone. watching him stare into your eyes, as if looking for an explanation- you offer him no words.

minho takes a seat at the end of the couch silently joining you, sipping at his mug. to fill the awkward silence, you clear your throat and fiddle with the ends of the cotton blanket.

you start thinking of ways to justify your selfish request of making him stay.

"i finished that damn paperwork you dumped on me. dick move by the way." you chortled to try to lighten the mood. he seems to notice your attempts to distract yourself and indulge your sudden desire to chat.

he folds his hands on his stomach, grinning. his bunny like teeth poking out. you always thought it was endearing. "it's fun seeing you all grumpy."

"sadist." you simper, the anger you felt from a yesterday dwindling at the surprisingly pleasant banter.

quietness takes over again. he stares into the celling, pondering. "i didn't know you were close with my grandmother." he says after a while. he avoids your gaze and places his mug back on the table.

"neither did i. it wasn't deliberate," you reply. he turns to you, curious about the story. so you explain to him how you met, for how long and that you didn't even recognize him despite seeing the photos.

he chuckles, "i bet it was this pose, wasn't it?" minho imitates the very same pose that he did in the photo, eliciting another laugh from you. it was exactly the same.

minho shuffles a little bit closer to you, now propping his arm on the back of the couch. you straighten up, now being hyperaware of his presence and proximity. he looks really different without his glasses.

a furry tail suddenly brushes against your exposed leg. you lean forward to check what had just rubbed past you, it was one of the cats. it meows for attention, pawing at the base of the couch.

"your cats are really cute." you watch him pick the orange haired feline and place it on his lap. one by one, two of the other cats that you've seen this afternoon start padding over to where you and minho were seated, jumping on the couch.

"that's dori," he points to the gray furred kitty. "doongie," an orange cat with a predominately white underbelly, "and soonie." the last one who's also orange but more so than the other. minho raises soonie's paw, waving it at you. cute.

"this one looks like you."

you scratch soonie's chin, the low purring getting louder the longer you do it. minho stares longingly at your eyes with an unreadable expression at the comment. you're not paying any attention to him.

after a while, the cats start to get tired of the two of you. they walk of to the end of the couch, now ignoring you and minho. you fold your arms and relaxing into the back of the couch, falling into a deep and comfortable silence that would be sorely missed.

"why do you hate me?" you say abruptly. the curiosity finally won, anxiety gnawing at your every fiber of your being. it was finally starting to be peaceful between you two and actually talking like normal people, your sudden comment might've affected it's chances of becoming true.

his head whips towards your direction in what you assume to be disbelief, furrowing his eyebrows. "since when did i hate you?"

you struggle to not scoff at his blatant charade, "minho, you have it out for me." this was strange and ridiculous. was he really being serious? how could he not be aware of the months of months of his incessant attitude towards you, and only you.

you remind yourself to be calm, to be civil. but he continues to feign ignorance. it was starting to get difficult.

"you don't treat me like the others, you constantly make my life harder by teasing me, and you dump your own paperwork on me. only me. the only time you talked to me normally was just a few minutes ago." your voice rising with exasperation.

"what did i do?" voice ultimately faltering, tired.

"i-..." minho refuses to meet your eyes, offering no solace.

instantly feeling vulnerable by your little outburst and by the lack of response on his end, you hug and bury the plush pillow for comfort. you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home and pretend this conversation did not happen. confrontation wasn't your strong suit.

after a long while of silence, he at last utters a low, "i'm so sorry."

"that was very, very stupid of me." minho's eyes are now trained on the hardwood floor, unable to even glance at you.

"what? the paperwork?" you scoff, "no, not just that. all of it."

you furrow your brows at him, "i just find you really really cute when you're mad." he continues. you stare at him, incredulousness and anger painting your features. before you could give him a piece of your mind, he speaks.

"and i realized i didn't know how to actually approach you normally without the teasing." he purses his lips, the cup on the table long forgotten. minho is staring up the celling now, still refusing to look to your direction.

"would you also believe me if i said i was jealous?"

you don't know what to say in return, heavily processing what he just said. what was happening? your mouth runs dry, confusion knocking the wind out of you.

"of your friend." he says, emphasizing the last part. you try to rack your brain of who he was referring to.

"jeongin?" you tilt your head. he says nothing, confirming the assumption. "i overheard him talking to his friends, bragging about how he was gonna take you out to this restaurant that he wants to drag you to." you couldn't possibly think of a reason why he would be jealous, you and jeongin are just friends. and why was he jealous in the first place?

"why are you so worked up about it? he's just a friend, minho."

"i'm not even sure myself," minho shakes his head in exasperation and turns to you. "but i like you, y/n."

standing there, paralyzed at his unexpected confession. minho likes you? he was giving you crap all year round, and yet he likes you? you shoot him a perplexed look, "wait, what?"

"let me get this straight," you hug your legs, trying to decipher what he was saying. "so your plan was to annoy the hell out of me, dump your paperwork seeing that you don't want me hanging out with jeongin because...you like me?"

"well, now it sounds stupid when you put it like that." he huffs, crossing his arms and pouting cutely.

deafening silence falls between you two, unable to say anything meaningful without stuttering and fumbling through your words. you just sat there, not really saying anything and staring at the floor. realizing that you probably don't feel the same, he sighs. its about time he went back to bed too.

"it's late. you should probably get some-"

before you knew it you felt your pulse roaring in your ears, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from standing up. you were going to regret it if you let him go.

"i like you too."

a magnetic pull causes you both to inch closer together, wordlessly gazing into each others eyes. you make the first move to lean into him, slowly placing an experimental peck on the side of his lips. you unsurely place your hands on his chest, "is this okay?"

his eyes flickering down to your lips and then back to your eyes. he licks his lips, still staring intensely- lovingly at you. he softly grins, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears and returns the kiss on your lips.

eyelids fluttering shut, you feel him press against you with much enthusiasm, deepening the kiss. you cup his cheeks as a reply, roughly pulling him towards you.

you already forgot about the rain outside.

he hoists you up his lap, a hand on your waist as he trails desperate kisses on your neck. minho pays his attention back to your lips, sloppy and open mouthed, saliva stringing from your mouths. urgency and eagerness was reflected in the way you both tangle your arms around each other, touching and caressing every part that you could reach.

all of the unresolved tension was slowly slipping away, replaced by desire.

a sudden meow breaks the two of you out of your trance. the green eyes of soonie stares up at the two of you, sitting quietly and their tail swishing side to side.

you loosen your arms around his neck, you two bursting out in laughter at the interruption.

"do you want to maybe take this to my room?" minho asks, placing a thumb on your lips. you didn't need to think twice.

your head hit his plush pillow, the cold and crisp linen feeling heavenly against your hot and flushed skin. shuffling up to the headboard, you watch minho with hazy eyes as he inches towards your form and props his knee on the edge of the bed.

he smirks as he sinks down on the mattress, hovering over your feverish body. minho sneaks a hand behind your back, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over so effortlessly to the top as if you weighed nothing.

"now, where were we?" he murmurs into the column of your neck, his hot breath sending tingling and electrifying shivers down your spine. you respond by trailing your hands all over his clothed chest, wanting to get the offending article of clothing off.

he chuckles and grabs your wrists, halting you from doing so. minho kisses the inside of your wrist, a teasing smile dawns on his face. you look at him with desperate, pleading eyes, wanting to have him already.

minho adjusts his tight hold on you, biting his plush lips in anticipation. with you now towering over his figure, you lean down to capture the lips that you had been fantasizing about all evening and bury your hands into his hair. the kiss was wet and messy, your tongues sloppily and desperately swallowing each other's moans. a trail of saliva strings from both of your lips.

it was starting to get too hot for your liking. you cease your movements for a second to remove minho’s borrowed shirt from your body. minho’s eyes shamelessly rake over your chest, his finger leisurely trailing the middle of your breasts. you let out a low chuckle, finally unclasping the hook of your bra. you release a breathy shudder upon feeling something hard poking you from where you sat. grabbing both of his wrists, you eagerly put them up to your tits, you could feel your sensitive nipples harden because of his cold touch. minho starts pinching at the sensitive buds, prolonging his eye contact with you, clearly enjoying your erratic squirming.

you suck in a sharp breath and almost topple over him in pleasure as he takes a nipple into his mouth, hot, warm, and wet. it was overwhelming, having no one touch you like this before. he continues to lap at your hardening bud. minho groans, closing his eyes and further burying his head in your chest. your tits were covered in spit, glistening under the subtle light of his night lamp.

minho, while smothering himself in your chest, takes a moment to hook his arm over you. his skillful hands trail over to the waistband of your jogging pants and pulls it down. you oblige, leaning closer to him and lifting your hips so he wouldn’t have to leave your tits. you jump in surprise once you feel a light teasing smack on your now semi exposed ass, only covered by thin panties. it elicits a small moan from you, pulling his head closer. you lightly pet his head and thread your hands in his hair affectionately as he continues his sucking, feeling a coiling sensation from your core.

but before you could cum, he detaches from your breasts, leaving his lips glistening with his own spit and his breath raggedy. a sly grin that you have come to love and hate graces his face upon seeing you whimper. the lack of stimulation makes you deflate, heaving frustratedly at his relentless teasing.

the familiar throbbing heat from your pussy suddenly gives you an idea. his hungry gaze watches you in curiosity. the bulge you were currently sitting on now immediately taking all of your attention. you do an experimental hump on it, hoping to relieve the aching heat from your cunt. minho's hands fly to your hips, groaning at the sensation.

"all this time, you made me think that you hated me-" you moan out, the fabric of his pants providing just the right amount of resistance. "when really you liked me?"

he stifles his moans by biting his bottom lip, his pants surely soaked through now.

"i did say i liked seeing you mad." minho manages to grunt out, licking his lips. you almost reel in disbelief but you keep your composure.

"you're confusing." another thrust.

"and i'm still mad at you." you huff out. hips now wildly humping against every ridge and curve of his cock. the sight of him makes you delirious, even more so that you’re humping against him.

"i-i'll make it up to you," he murmurs lowly, hissing the more times you buck up against him. "fu-fuck..."

despite the way that you were using him, it does nothing to quell the horniness you were feeling, in fact, it even spurs you on further. the wet patch from your panties soak and slowly transfer on to the front of his pants, your own wetness spreading messily every time you grind on his delicious dick, the ridges providing the needed friction that you've been so desperately craving. minho watches you, your tits bouncing up and down- he feels like drooling. "i love it when you use me." he finally breathes out, hands still on your hips, his nails making crescents on your skin. and finally, you cum, his words sending you over the edge.

it tremors through your body, white hot cum leaks out from your panties and you can’t seem to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on his broad chest. you clench your eyes shut in shyness, suddenly embarrassed from using minho so blatantly. he coos and pats your head in comfort, almost like how he pets his cats.

planning to make it up to him and eat his words, you sit up and shuffle down his hips. you admire the wet patch that stains his front, mouth watering. this surprises him, watching you with tantalizing eyes. you make a move to grab at his waistband, pulling it down slowly. he hisses out in pleasure as the waistband runs over his still clothed dick. minho’s boxers were thoroughly wet, you could see a dark patch on the front where you sat on him and where precum leaked out. you lift up a hand to experimentally give his bulge a tight little squeeze, him letting out a little shudder response.

it hardens even more under your touch- so you decide to tease him to test the waters even further, running your fingers over and over his tent causing him to hiss out, sending you a warning look. taking this as a sign, you lift the waistband of his boxers and stare at his eyes while doing so. it springs up immediately after freeing it from its confines. his long and fat cock stands tall, the tip a deep red, and the veins prominently running along the sides. the sight makes your mouth water in anticipation. you place a thumb on his cockhead, running slow circles on his slit causing it to drool heavily on your hand.

his cat like mouth parts in ecstasy once you start teasing the underside of his length with your hand and licking the oozing liquid up. minho’s hips start thrusting at the sensation, forcing you to hold him down. it was admittedly hard to do so, his thick thighs almost the size of your head but you still managed to restrain him from rutting wildly. the groan that leaves his lips sound is absolutely nothing short of sinful when you finally put your mouth on him. every desperate huff from him leaves you light headed, wishing you could record and replay it over and over again. when couldn’t fit all of him, you resorted to pumping the remaining of the shaft were you couldn’t reach. you egg him on even further by running a hand over his abs, seeing how his thighs and abdomen tense up.

you look up through your lashes to watch minho unravel. his eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the stimulation. while it bobs messily in your mouth, you try to pay special attention to his hot and heavy balls, rubbing it back and forth in the palm of your hand, hoping to get him to cum. minho closes his eyes shut again and tenses his thighs, finally cumming. his hands travel down to grasp at his length, taking it over yours, spurting his essence everywhere. minho finishes with a loud relieved groan, slapping his dick lazily against your cheek which you greedily lapped at.

“that might be the best head i’ve ever had, bunny.” he bites his lips, his voice light and airy. you quickly sit up from your position and gawked at him, suddenly feeling bashful at his apparent pet name for you.

minho gives you a mischievous cat like grin in return, feeling absolutely delighted at your expression. he begins to lightly graze your leg, leaving tentative touches and gentle pecks along the stretch of your lower limb. lifting your right leg up, you stop minho from inching any closer towards you by putting your foot on his chest.

"y/n..."

you pretend to think for a moment, stretching this out for as long as possible. he would just have to wait since he had yet to make up for being so mean to you. a little fun also wouldn’t hurt, right? no, you were quite wrong.

minho again grabs your ankle albeit more roughly this time and continues to place chaste kisses with more passion this time, clearly adamant about giving your legs and thighs hickeys. at long last, minho slides the wet and abused fabric off you, the panty is thoroughly soaked and it’s material sticking and clinging to your core.

he hooks ur leg over his shoulder, urging to part your legs apart and spreading them obscenely open. staring intensely into your eyes, minho starts teasing your core with feather light touches. “you like this?” he says his mischievous grin, continuing his ministrations. you offer him no response as he traces figures and shapes on your wet pussy that has you seeing stars. his fingers now erratically sliding up and down your folds. you almost sob at his nonchalant teasing, eyes clenching shut and begging him to put something in.

something about observing his veiny hand treading lightly just the outside of your lower lips leads you to tuck your face into your hands, the sight was like straight out of porn. “no, no. hands up bunny.” minho takes a hold of your wrists, putting them effortlessly above your head.

“you have to look.”

his free hand drags along your legs to pull them apart and starts lowering his chiseled face down to your core. his nose just close enough to feel the small exhaling puffs of hot air on your pussy, causing it to twitch in suspense. the brunette sneaks a peak at your trembling figure before diving right in, the first contact of his tongue on your cunt was searing hot, instantly making jolt out in shock and cry out. minho takes this as a sign to hold down your hips, pressing, flattening, and letting his tongue rampant against you all while avoiding your clit. he hums at the taste, huffing and delving further into your pussy, eating you out with such intensity, placing open mouthed sloppy kisses. he spits to make your pussy wetter so he could languidly and erratically make out with your cunt.

you throw your head back into the heaps of pillows behind you as he starts to pay attention to your clit, softly biting the bundle of nerves. minho then moves to swipe his index up at the large amount of cum and spit trickling from your core, using it as lube for his fingers. he gently prods his index in your entrance all while still licking you up. his long fingers, deliciously stretching your hole, deeper than all those nights you've tried to do so yourself. the bliss you were feeling was overwhelming. minho croaks out a little ‘hah, hah, hah…” every time he would come up for breath, completely drunk off your musky and intoxicating scent. you also don’t miss how he subtly humps the bed sheets he was lying under either. you began to arch your back upon hearing his desperate sounds, your arousal spurting on his face.

minho looks like a cat who got the cream, his pupils blown wide open and wetness trickling down the side of his mouth. he lets go of your hands after you were finished, the numb arm falling on your forehead as you catch your breath. he stands up to re-adjust your form on the bed, pulling you closer to his pelvis.

minho stares at your eyes, asking silently for permission. you look up at him with a toothy- fucked out grin.

the feelings that you couldn't place earlier was now clear, you wanted him.

minho reaches a hand over your face, caressing your flushed cheeks. he wordlessly leans to tenderly place a kiss onto your forehead and on your lips. you reciprocate lovingly, capturing his lips once again. minho without warning, pushes his long and girthy dick into you, the abrupt intrusion making you sob out. the bulbous head of his cock rubs deliciously against your gummy walls, you swore you could feel it in your throat.

“there we go. there we go…”

minho sets a rough pace, his hips thrusting against your pelvic bone. “ah-ah!”

toned and skillful arms cage you in, forcing you to look deep into his dark pools. "you better keep quiet, or else the whole house will hear you." that for some reason makes your cunt even wetter, weeping more than you thought was possible. the sole idea of getting caught with their precious son doing such lewd acts, it seems sacrilegious and absolutely sinful.

he once again reaches for your hardened nipple, tweaking and pinching the bud between his thumb and index. the bed was now creaking with how fast minho was going, you silently prayed that no one in the house suspects anything. the thought mortifies you.

minho leans against your figure and nuzzles up on your chest, looking up at you with an oh so innocent grin while he continues to pound your cunt. his movements start to stutter once he feels your walls clench around him. your mind begins to feel like mush but you still try to make an effort to suppress your groans of pleasure. a strangled sound between a moan and a whine leaves your throat once he hits that one particular spot in you.

“keep quiet, little kitty.”

you start squirming uncontrollably at the huskiness of his voice, not having experienced an intense orgasm like this before. “cum, you can do it.” your rutting hips stop to convulse for a moment, feeling your orgasm rip through the ends of your nerves. leaning back on his chest, you struggle to catch your breath, heaving from the aftermath of your orgasm.

fogginess still clouding your vision, you caught a small glimpse of minho to notice that he still hadn’t pulled out, his hands circling your waist gently. you unintentionally clench on his cock, yep he was still hard, very hard. minho sets his eyes on you, and gives you that look. oh no, you knew that look. the same one that he uses around the office to persuade a higher up to heed to his request. you nibble on your lower lip in excitement.

“one more, you can do one more right?” he coos, lifting your legs and his hips starting his monstrous once pace again. you double over in overstimulation, crying out in pleasure. his breath hitches after a particularly hard thrust, choosing to muffle his own cries by shoving his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your exhilarating scent. you respond by coyly playing with the hair on his nape, hoping that it would ground you to reality.

minho then sneaks a hand from below you and hugs your figure, pulling you impossibly closer. he swallows your moans, kissing you feverishly and running his hands wildly all throughout. it was so urgent, so intense, like he’s finding a way to meld your bodies together, his erratic and messy thrusts reflecting that.

your fingers clutch his thick bed sheets, euphoria piercing your body every time he drives another rough thrust into you. the lewd noises coming from the two of you echos and bounces off the walls, the conversation tomorrow morning was going to be so humiliating and awkward at the dining table.

you can’t hold it in any longer, and by the looks of it, neither can he. minho cums with a loud groan, spurting inside you. "goooood kitty." minho rasps out. you gape at the warmness, causing you to finish as well. minho reaches his hand downwards to spread your combined release, spreading it messily. it drips out of you obscenely as he pulls out.

you were positively flushed. he was too, sweat still glistening on the wide expanse of his chest and forehead. minho brushes your hair back affectionately before plopping down tiredly next to you. you turn to him, wanting to admire his fucked out features but he looks occupied and staring into space.

“what's the matter?”

"i really am sorry about the misunderstanding. i feel terrible that i made you feel like that. and i do really like you. wasn't lying about that." minho sighs out, closing his eyes for a moment and then faces you. “i want to start over, properly this time.”

"apology accepted. and yeah of course." you say, quite happy with how this whole misunderstanding turned out. "i really like you too." he kisses the top of your head, making you wrap an arm around him to cuddle.

"now you'll just have to figure out how to reject the girl beside your desk. she wants to ask you out."

"maybe we can start by just making out in front of her."

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids hard thoughts #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst

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mountainsandmayhem · 4 months ago

Text

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You decide it's time to put yourself on Joel's radar.

CW: Age gap (Joel 45, Reader 22), dual POV. Specific warnings in small red below the cut, do not read to avoid spoilers.

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

AN: I'm continuously surprised by the love, excitement and joy that this story brings anyone but me. That probably doesn't even make sense, I'm just lost for words, tbh. Forehead kisses to @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk, and @milla-frenchy for screaming with me or pre reading this for me. @lotusbxtch gets a forehead kiss and a tip of the nose kiss for deep dive beta reading this, she's solely responsible for every semi colon.

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates to be alerted for future chapters.

Content Warnings: Flirty, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual acts, kissing, mutual pining, reader being pinned against a wall, sexual tension, touching. Reader does have some description so may be considered more of an OFC.

The week after Joel removed you from his club goes by in a well-scheduled blur. You work your usual three days, cleaning mansions of people who don’t tip as well as Mister Miller. You pour yourself over LSAT study guides, practicing insane logic questions. You enjoy a coffee date with Jamie who asks you what happened the night at the poker game. You tell her a practiced lie that feels like acid on your tongue as it leaves your lips. You hate lying to your friends, especially her. You can feel that lie sitting heavily on the top of your stomach the entire time you’re with her, but you simply cannot afford to get fired with three years of law school on the horizon. You spend an evening with your roommate, Odette, watching Netflix and eating dumplings from her favourite spot, the only spot in Austin that has those little white paper boxes with the red writing.

If you decide not to lie to yourself, on top of everyone else, you also spend at least an hour a day watching videos of women tied up and dominated, thinking of Joel goddamn Miller the entire time. Since learning his full name, and the name of his club, the Google searches you swore you’d stop doing have been much more productive. You’ve found multiple blogs and Reddit posts, not just about kink, but also about Joel. It turns out that he’s well-known in the kink and BDSM communities around the world, but is essentially changing the face of kink in Austin.

One night, you get lost in a Reddit wormhole of women in Texas, and one in Paris, who have been a submissive for a man that sounds a lot like Joel. They don’t actually mention him by name but there’s advice on what he likes and doesn’t like, and how he never actually has sex with any of his submissives. It also sounds like some of these women pay him to be their dom, and, based on the conversations in the comments of one thread, it seems like he has a few submissives at the moment, and majority of their interactions happen at the club.

The club. Fuck, Jamie wasn’t kidding when she said JMK was exclusive. Anyone can join, assuming you can pay the yearly membership fees that, according to Reddit, are around $80,000 per year. From the minimal, cryptic information you find, Joel Miller is the main owner and he has two business partners. One you assume is his brother that you served the other night, but the third you are unable to find any information about.

Since everything you find online is up to interpretation, it’s hard to say what is and isn’t true. According to one disgruntled poster, once you become a member at JMKink, there are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone has to get tested monthly; it’s highly recommended that women are on birth control; and even if you’re married to the guest you bring, men must wear condoms. You can’t just bring anyone in with you: every member and their guest has an app, and the only way to get that app is from a QR code and an assigned activation code. According to another poster, the app is full of waivers and consent forms. You can’t stop the shy smile that crosses your face when you remember how concerned Joel was with your consent the first time you met.

The Monday before your usual every-other-Tuesday shift at Joel’s, you find a blog post about becoming a submissive, and it’s like it was written just for you. The writer explains how she had a hard time shutting off her brain and how, by the end of the day, she was so exhausted from making decisions that all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do for once. This led to her and her husband exploring a sub/dom partnership. Now, she feels lighter and freer; they’ve both discovered new ways to get pleasure outside of the idea of sex that society feeds us. Being a submissive isn’t always about orgasms or pleasure; it’s helped her build confidence, and she’s found that as they progress, that little voice that tells her she isn't good enough has stopped being so loud.

After reading through the post a few times, you shut your rose gold laptop and stare at the wall behind your desk. You feel seen, heard even though you didn’t speak. At first, you found yourself feeling ashamed of getting off to these videos, like there was something wrong with you for being turned on by it, but it’s really that ability to let go of control that you crave, the feeling of someone else making the decisions for once. You want that, but more so, you think you need that, and badly.

As a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason,’ it all comes together for you. You aren’t even nervous as the thought consumes you. If Joel shows up at his house, tomorrow I’m going to ask him to teach me.

On Tuesday, you do as you always do, following Joel’s instructions to a tee while listening to a podcast. However, today you only wear one AirPod in hopes of hearing that familiar and comforting engine rev that signals him either coming or going. Every creak or pop of the house causes your heart to flutter, but it’s never him. Much to your chagrin, Joel doesn’t come home.

Inside the envelope is that expensive matte black paper again, ‘Thanks -JM’ neatly written along it.

Great, you think to yourself sarcastically, we are on initial terms again.

Twelve hundred dollars is tucked into the envelope this time, you roll your eyes after thumbing the crisp green bills. The first tip you ever got from him felt sincere, but after walking in on him, and everything since then, it’s feeling more and more like apology money. You shouldn’t complain; people would kill to make this kind of money, but everything would be so much easier if he’d just fucking talk to you.

Your fingers run along the thick, rich paper that he uses as company letterhead. You can’t explain it, but the paper feels like Joel. It’s rough and thick, yet has a vulnerability to it, like you could easily destroy it with just a pinch of your fingers and a flick of your wrist. Your mind flashes back to his club the other night. He was literally begging you to leave, you can still hear it, the pleading in his voice as he said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me”. Your fingers trail across the golden ink of his neat handwriting and then open the paper the rest of the way. At the very bottom of the page, in shiny black print similar to the JMK logo at the top, is a phone number. Your heart slams against your ribcage as your eyes scan across the numbers.

When you get home, you unfold the note on your kitchen counter and pace the three or four steps it takes to walk the length of your small kitchen, never taking your eyes off the paper, looking at it like it’s a live bomb or like it’s going to disappear if you let it out of your sight. This is it: you could call the office, make an appointment or something. You’d probably have to lie, but you just need to see him; you need to make a case for yourself. Your stomach lurches, throat tightening at the thought of being in the club with him again. You open the freezer and grab the bottle of tequila, taking a big swig right from the bottle. It’s a cold burn and you clench your eyes as you swallow it down. Your body shivers involuntarily.

You dial before you can talk yourself out of it and before you know it you have an appointment under a fake name to speak to Joel tomorrow afternoon before your study group meets. You take two more large gulps of tequila after hanging up the phone.

Fuck, this is really happening. You take another large sip of the frozen tequila for good measure, your nose scrunching up at the taste.

Joel’s office isn’t attached to the club, it’s in a smaller building across the street and that has seemed to tamp some of the nerves that are vibrating your very core. Still, you can stop from nervously smoothing the wrinkles that have formed on the short, flowing skirt of your white sundress as you sit on the red velvet couch across from Joel’s receptionist. She is a small woman with a chin length bob, she’s probably in her late fifties and you wonder if her kids or grandkids know that she works for the owner of a kink club, or maybe she’s part of the community too. You’ve done copious amounts of research; kink isn’t just for young people, and you suppose Joel isn’t exactly young either. For all you know, she very well could be a dominatrix in her spare time.

She says your fake name in a soothing tone as she stands and walks towards the tall black door, pulling it open effortlessly. “Go on in, sweetheart. Joel’s ready for you.”

You smile at her sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously as you walk over the threshold to try to convince the millionaire whose home you clean to dominate you. The air in his large, bright office feels heavy and thick. Blood rushes through your ears as he looks up at you from his seat. He slips off his 1950’s style black horn rimmed glasses and places them on his desk. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he assesses you. Your heart lurches, knees trembling as you take a few nervous steps towards his desk. As his eyes meet yours you feel it again, that exposed and naked feeling that only his gaze seems to be able to cast. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, but it’s an unseasonably warm March day and even before leaving your apartment you were sweating in a mix of nervousness and excitement.

You see his lips move, but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your heart. You stop just past the door, then hear it click shut behind you. Joel’s silky lips move again and this time you hear your name followed by a calm, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The words come out before you even think about them, you practically yell them at him, “I want you to teach me.”

His hand waves to the chairs across his desk. When you don’t move he harshly says, “Sit.”

You rush across his expansive office, the plush carpet feels luxurious under your shoes. When you reach the black leather chair you sit on the very edge of the seat, your knee nervously bouncing up and down in time with your heart.

“You want me to do what?” He asks hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair. He looks absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon sun - orange hues reflecting off his tanned skin, the few greys along his temples glistening like the moon on the ocean. He’s in a black dress shirt again, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. You noticed today that he’s wearing a black watch and a gold ring on his right ring finger. Between his accessories and the veins that line his toned forearms your mouth goes dry.

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

The last word has barely passed your lips when he scoffs out, “No.”

Your face falls, “Joel, please. I’ve been doing research and I’ve decided that, well, that I want to be…that.”

He places his large palms on the desk, the square black diamond in his ring glittering in the sun, and pushes himself up. You crane your neck to look at him as he slips his hands into his pockets, his eyes already locked on yours. His intense eye contact wraps you up in a weighted blanket of safety and comfort, which is a dangerous and vulnerable place, a place that has the ability to rip you in half, much like you could do with that company letterhead he left you. He walks slowly to the other side of his desk. Once in front of you, he leans back onto it, keeping his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black dress pants.

“You can’t even say it.” He challenges.

You furrow your brows, ready to confront him like you always seem to do. In the few interactions you’ve had with Joel, more often than not, it’s been him trying to tell you what to do, you fighting him over it, and then him ultimately winning. It’s infuriating, but not this time. No, this time you’re going to win. You have valid reasons to want this, and they’re all backed up by your research. You are leaving this office as his submissive.

“I can too!”

He shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, “Say it then. You wanna learn how to do what, sweetheart?”

You sit up tall on the edge of the chair, crossing your arms under your breasts, praying your cheeks don’t flush as you finally admit it out loud. “I want to learn how to be a submissive.”

“No.” One of his meaty hands comes out of his pocket, waving you off as he says it again.

“Please!” You plead, “I want to learn how to be a sub.”

Joel actually squirms at the sound of you being so needy. He lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath and then whispers your name, “I can’t do this with you.”

Got him, you think to yourself, failing to fight the smirk as you lower your voice and sweetly beg, “Please, Mister Miller?”

Joel ‘Your-Consent-is-Most-Important’ Miller is not a small man: his broad shoulders take up almost an entire door frame and he’s easily nearing six foot four, but at the sound of you calling him the one name he’s asked you not to, he moves faster than your brain can comprehend. You gasp as he lunges towards you, his hands landing on the arms of the chair, his wide shoulders pushing you back as he cages you in. Your exposed back hits the back of the chair, your short skirt riding up your thighs slightly. He is practically on top of you and for a second you can imagine that this is what having sex with him would look like. His knuckles blanch from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his eyes are practically black, and that familiar flush he gets when you challenge him paints his neck and cheeks.

His voice is deeper, thick with arousal, rattling your bones as he speaks slowly, “I said not to call me that. You can’t even…You can’t.” He shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. His tone softens as he opens his eyes, “No, I ain’t doin’ this with you, sweet girl.”

You practically writhe in your chair. Sweet girl. He’s terrifying and commanding and so fucking beautiful like this. He obviously has a soft spot for when you beg, so you soften your eyes and stick out your velvety smooth bottom lip enticingly before whispering, “Please, Joel.”

He lets out a groan as he pushes himself off the chair and walks towards the large wall of windows behind his desk, his hands resting on his tapered waist. He avoids your gaze as you sit up, squeezing your thighs together tightly to calm the need at your core. “Lemme set ya up with someone else. My brother Tommy. You were gettin’ him a drink at that poker game.”

“I remember,” you mumble, looking down at your hands like you always do when your lack of confidence gets the best of you. You can’t let that self-doubt creep in now, not when you’re this close. You look back towards his broad back. “But I really don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” He spins towards you, the lighting behind him gives him an almost ethereal glow. There’s absolutely no denying it, Joel Miller is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

You tuck your hands under your legs, simply stating, “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me. I could be a horrible guy.”

You let out a sad laugh, shaking your head at him. He’s right, you don’t know him, but you have a feeling about him and you consider yourself pretty good at reading people. “You’ve never given me reason to think I couldn’t trust you. Even that first day. You were so calm and apologetic.”

Joel presses his lips in a thin line, eyes raking over you. You subconsciously slip your bottom lip between your teeth, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “How old are you?”

“Twenty two,” you immediately regret lying; the avenue of trust is of utmost importance between a submissive and their dominant, so you quickly add, “Almost, I turn twenty two on Friday.”

“I can’t do this.” He croaks and you can’t help but feel a little bad. You’ve put him in an uncomfortable position and his voice sounds defeated.

“Please. I always felt I needed more but,” you stand up and take a few slow steps in his direction. “But…I didn’t know what more was and I - I think it’s this.” You audibly swallow pleading, “Please. I need you to help me. I want you to help me. Teach me.”

He holds his hands up and steps back as you inch closer. A silent call that signals you to stop or that he doesn’t trust himself, not here, not with you. “Jus’ let me set ya up with Tommy. You’re his type.”

Your heart sinks and an acidic taste lines your tongue. Of course. You aren’t that tall, slender icy blonde girl he had strapped to his desk. No, you have curves, and stretch marks along your hips, your boobs are a B cup on a good day. He can get whatever woman he wants, why would it be you? You look down at your hands, pushing back the nonexistent cuticle on your right thumb. This nervous habit of yours used to drive your mom crazy, ‘you’re going to have no skin left soon’ she’d lecture, but you can’t help it. The immediate result of the nail bed looking clean and perfect is like a dopamine hit. It leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment. The problem is, the initial confidence you had about this decision on Monday night has dwindled and you’ve been so anxious about this meeting that every single finger has a nicely pushed back cuticle.

It’s silent in the room for a while, you shut your eyes as you sheepishly ask, “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

“No!” He says insistently and without hesitation. His hand runs through his beard, a faint scratching sound fills the room drawing your eyes open and away from the skin of your thumb. As they land back on him you wonder what his patchy facial hair would feel like between your legs or along the soft skin of your stomach as he kissed you. His voice softens, “That’s not it. I just - I’m sorry. I jus’ can’t do this, sweetheart.”

You feel your chance to become the woman you want to be slipping through your fingers. Your plan is failing and for once in your life you don’t have a Plan B, this is the only plan that makes sense to you. Sadness creeps into your throat, “Why?”

“‘S not a good idea, sweet girl,” he answers, his soft brown sugar flecked eyes reaching out to yours.

His face and voice seem to be at war with his words. He’s saying no, but there’s a sadness in his eyes and a caring undertone to his voice. You’re not sure how you know it, but him calling you sweet girl means something to him. “Because I’m not your type?”

He shakes his head, that same curl falling into his eyes as it did in his foyer the other day. “That’s the problem, you’re exactly my type.”

Hearing that you’re this beautiful man's type should feel like you’ve won the lottery, but the way his shoulders slump as he says it only builds that lump in your throat. As you swallow the sadness down, his eyes travel to your neck, watching as the muscles flex and relax with the motion. “I - then why?”

He lets out a long breath and as he walks to the door he says, “I ain’t havin’ this conversation. I said no. And someone who is cut out to be a submissive would just take that answer for what it is.”

“You’ve made it clear that I’m not a submissive,” you counter and walk towards the door. He cracks the door open and you step in close to him, unconsciously taking in his leather and ash scent before adding, “Have a nice night, Mister Miller.”

Joel

The door feels like a feather behind his hand as he slams it shut - your body, warm and already vibrating, trapped between him and the solid piece of wood that separates the two of you from his receptionist. He made himself a promise in his rear view mirror the other week; he had to cut this off, create distance. He needed you to be just his house cleaner. Because everytime he looks into your eyes he feels the same way he felt at seventeen when he met Tiffany in that garage. Everything about you oozes sweetness and innocence, his sweetheart, his sweet girl. He didn’t think he was capable of feeling that way again. And he definitely should not feel this way for someone who is younger than his own daughter.

His large frame looms behind you, forcing your chest and forehead to rest against the door. He uses his foot to spread your legs wide. A breathy gasp passes your lips as your hands scramble for purchase against the wood grain of the door. He keeps pushing your legs apart, wide enough for your short white skirt to ride up your creamy thighs. Thighs he’s imagined wrapped tightly around his head as he makes you scream.

Joel takes a small step forward, caging you completely, making it so you’re completely at his mercy. He can smell the sweet scent of your arousal growing between your thighs; he knows if he reaches a calloused finger to the gusset of your panties they’d be soaked through. His cock is hard as steel, pressing against the zipper of his pants and the small of your back. You’re practically panting and he fights to keep his breathing steady when really he wants to mirror the quick, uneven pace of your breath. This is much more serious and intimate than when he had you trapped in the chair. This is dangerous. This could lead to more.

His strong fingers wrap around your dainty wrists. He loves the way you don’t fight him as he pulls them above your head, gathering both your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the door roughly. His free hand draws a slow line down your arm, then along the sensitive skin of your neck, and down your spine. Goosebumps break out over your skin and you instinctively arch your back into him, a desperate whine passes from your lips between laboured breaths, and that sound nearly buckles his knees.

His lips come to the shell of your ear, his beard tickling you as he speaks in a slow and commanding tone. “Do you feel what you do to me when you call me that. I’ve asked you not to. Multiple times.”

Your mint and lavender scented shampoo fills his nose as he nudges at you to tilt open your throat to him. He revels in how easily you oblige, cocking your head to the side like the good little girl he knows you are. He continues, lips just a hair away from your pulse point; he’s sure if he pressed his lips to it he’d feel how hard your heart is racing. “But I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I fucking love that you haven’t stopped.”

Your soft skin is warm against his rough fingers as they continue their trail down your body, running over the firm globe of one of your ass cheeks. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, distracting himself from the urge to spank you for calling him Mister Miller yet again. Finally, his fingers find a home on one of your thighs. He brushes lightly against your soft inner thighs, small little touches jumping from one leg to the other. The little involuntary twitches of your body and the needy little gasps of air you suck through your teeth has his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He’s aching for you in a way he hasn’t felt for years.

“You infuriate me with your insubordination and it makes me weak,” he mutters. “Makes me absolutely insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about what’s underneath those clothes, and after seeing your perfect breasts and your little pink nipples… fuuuuck, baby. All I can think about is how good they’d look with my handprints tattooed on them after I slap them while you orgasm. Can’t stop thinking about how wet your little pussy must get. How tight she would be around my fingers as I claim her as mine. How fucking delicious she must taste. How goddamn sexy your cries of pain and pleasure would sound.”

Your whole body shudders against his. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and he knows he needs to stop before he crosses a line, but the way your body responds to him is precisely how he likes it: pliant and ready. His mind reels with all the naughty things he’d like to do to you. If he reaches just a little bit higher he could finally know how you sound when you come, how silky your cunt is, how you taste. He runs the tip of his hooked nose down your neck, the light citrus of your perfume replacing the scent of your shampoo.

“That what you wanna hear?” Joel continues. “How fucking weak you make me? How desperate? I can’t do this because once I start…I ain’t gonna be able to let you go. Ain’t gonna be able to stop. Never gonna be able to have any other little play thing. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. If I start this, this is it for me.”

Joel releases your wrists with a growl and walks away, carding his fingers through his curls and looking out at the cityscape as the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings. He doesn’t look back, he can’t look back or he’ll fucking crack. He’ll haul you over his shoulder and take you into his club. He’ll show you everything right now and he won’t stop. His eyes flutter closed as he takes controlled breaths to slow his heart rate, the unmistakable sound of his office door opening and closing behind him.

You

You yank the door open and walk as fast as your legs will take you, your mind swirling, every emotion trying to win for first place. You’re painfully turned on, you can feel how soaked your panties are. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. It’s like it’s been carved into your brain. Only you. You jam at the elevator close button as your lungs scream for fresh air, and as you step out into the warm spring night you suck in breath for what feels like the first time since you made this appointment last night.

Your phone vibrates in the small purse you have across your body. He doesn’t have your number, you remind yourself as you reach for your phone. Jamie’s name across your slightly cracked screen. “Hey!”

“Are you ok?” her voice is thick with concern.

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

“You sound like you're out of breath.”

You laugh a little, “Oh. I was..” fuck, what was I doing. “I mean I am walking. Like on a walk.”

Even a toddler wouldn’t be convinced by your lie, and Jamie isn’t either as she gasps loudly on the other end before whispering, “Were you having sex?”

“No! God no!” Your clit twitches at the thought of how close Joel was today. “I’m on the street, can’t you hear the cars.”

“Ok. You do need some sex though,” she laughs.

“Jamie,” you sigh, “I have to get to a study group. What’s up?”

She giggles devilishly. “Wellll - It’s your birthday weekend. I want to throw you a party at this really amazing club on Friday.”

“Umm, ya. Sure. Nothing too crazy though, right?”

“Promise you can keep your top on this time, prude.” She says teasingly and you laugh. “It’s called Mystique. The owner is an old family friend and she gave us a sweet VIP booth and bottle service, all completely free!”

You slide your key into the door of your SUV to unlock it, “Ok. Let’s do it.”

“Good, because I already invited the girls.” You sigh and your phone buzzes in your ear as Jamie’s computer dings on the other end. “Oh, weird. Your regular every other Tuesday clean just requested for you to go on Friday. Weren’t you just there yesterday?”

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind.

“That’s shitty,” Jamie continues, “That’s your birthday. The shift is only 4 hours, but I can offer it to someone else if you want.”

“No!” It comes out too eager and you remind yourself to chill the fuck out as you put her on speaker phone and open the app. “I mean, no, that’s ok. I need the money and my calendar shows 11 to 3, lots of time to get ready!”

“Text me when you’re done with your study group and we’ll hammer out the details for Friday night. We didn’t get to celebrate you turning twenty one with your insane schedule -”

“Hey!” You exclaim, pretending to be hurt.

“Ya ya, I know,” her voice an amused sarcasm as she continues, “The master plan to graduate early. Which you did. So can we please make this the best celebration yet?” Even without being able to see your best friend you know she’s dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet while giving big green doe eyes.

Friday rolls around quickly, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking forward to more; a much needed night out with your girlfriends or the possibility of Joel being home today. You’ve tried not to think about how his body felt against yours, but every few hours you found yourself with your hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit until you came to thoughts of him, whispering Mister Miller like a church prayer.

Pulling up to his house today feels strange. He requested an extra clean this week just minutes after you asked him to teach you how to sub and after finding out that your birthday was today. You haul your stuff into his house, letting out a frustrated sigh when you find it quiet and empty. You click open your app and he’s asking you to dust and vacuum the basement, as well as wipe out the fridge. You look down at the app confused. He’s never asked you to clean the basement, and the fridge? He doesn’t cook. The eleven thousand dollar fridge is basically just a decoration to fill a gap in the countertops.

You pop in your airpods and head downstairs. The cozy white carpet of the stairs feels like plush clouds under your Keds. As you round the corner of the stairs you see everything that makes someone's house a home. So this is where he keeps it all, you think to yourself.

The short hallway from the stairs to the large open concept basement is covered in photos of Joel at all stages of his life. The first picture that catches your eye is a teenage baby faced Joel and a beautiful young woman sitting on a hospital bed, she’s smiling at the camera as Joel looks down at the tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. He looks so happy and soft, and it ignites a small flame of jealousy. Not at the woman, but at the happy little family.

As your eyes scan all the pictures you see that baby at all ages. There’s a picture of her holding a trophy as big as her with little cleats and shin guards on. In another, she and Joel are holding a big fish, her toothless smile bright and brilliant, while something in Joel’s eyes looks sad even though his plush lips are curved up in a sexy smile.

Another picture is of the little girl sitting on her mom’s lap; the woman doesn’t seem as vibrant in this picture. The next one to catch your eye is her holding a cupcake with a candle in the shape of the number sixteen, then him in a pressed black suit and her in her high school cap and gown. The last picture is similar, except it’s a college graduation photo.

As you peel yourself away from all the pictures you haven’t managed to look at yet, you face the main living area, a large open concept space. There’s a cozy grey sectional facing the big screen TV, shelves of DVDs surround it and you can only imagine all the movie nights the two of them had down here. There's a pool table along the far back right side of the room and to the left are a bunch of guitars, both acoustic and electric, hanging on the wall. You walk towards the guitars, there’s a stool and a small table beside the amp. An open notebook with lyrics lays on the table and as tempting as it is to read it, you look away. This space is who Joel is and he’s obviously trusting or testing you by sending you down here. He did tell you that you didn’t know him, and that he could be a bad guy, but everything here screams wholesome family man.

You dust and vacuum, then fluff the couch cushions and fold the blankets nicely. There’s an empty glass on the side table, so you grab that and wash it at the small wet bar before placing it with the other glasses. You take one last longing look at the notebook, it’s tempting but decide you are right to not read it. It’s none of your business what he writes and sings about. You picture him there, dressed casually in sweat pants and t-shirt, his large fingers plucking with a practiced finesse at the strings, you wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor with a cup of coffee and a book. The two of you being independently together on a Sunday morning.

Thoughts of the two of you like that are dangerous; being his submissive isn’t being his girlfriend. You’ve been very good at compartmentalizing, mostly as a coping mechanism to your past, so you find a metaphorical little box in the back of your mind to stuff all those feelings and thoughts into. As you gather your cleaning supplies, you take one last look around. maybe this was his way of showing you that you can’t have a future with him, that he’s done with the kids-and-marriage part of his life. None of that matters to you; you don’t want kids and marriage, you just want a partnership, and the support and comfort that comes with it. You want to become a lawyer, and eventually a judge, and one day sit on the supreme court and defend everyone's civil and human rights. That’s the goal, the only goal.

From this point on, any feelings for Joel Miller go in that box. If he ever changes his mind, he is my dominant and nothing else. You push the lid on the feelings box and run through your life plan as you head up the stairs. Law school and lawyer, then a relationship before judge and supreme court. That’s the plan, it’s always been the plan.

Once you’re in the kitchen, you pop open the fridge to see a single red rose. You lose a fighting battle with your face, smiling huge from ear to ear. You grab it and close the now empty fridge, bringing the rose to your nose to breathe in the sweet and powdery scent. The black and red envelope sits on the shiny marble countertop. You place the rose down and pop open the envelope. You pull out fifteen hundred dollars and a black business card. Your brows knit together as you inspect the card, flipping it over. A QR code for the JMK app, an activation code, and a note that says “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”

You practically rip your phone from your back pocket and scan the QR code. You dance nervously on the balls of your feet as the app downloads. With shaky fingers you create a username and password, then type in the activation code. A bunch of permissions pop up, and while the baby lawyer inside of you screams that you need to read them, you’re too eager, so you hastily click accept on all of them. A profile with your newly appointed username splays across the screen. Right below your name it says “Beginner Submissive” and you roll your eyes. You upload the hottest selfie you can find of yourself to be your profile picture, smirking at what you imagine Joel’s reaction will be when he sees you in that tight fitting gold dress, a picture Jamie took of you on New Year’s Eve.

On the top right of your screen are 3 little lines, you open the menu and have two options. ‘Assigned Dominant’ and ‘Limits and Waivers’. You are eager to fill out whatever Joel wants on this app, but none of this will feel real to you until you see his name as your Dom. You giggle as you click the first menu. Holy shit, you think as the new window loads, this is going to happen, he’s going to do it.

Your heart freezes in your chest, and every ounce of excitement and happiness drains from you as you read ‘Assigned Dominant: Tommy Miller’.

When you get home, you open your JMK app again, looking at the assigned dominant screen in hopes you made a mistake. But there it is, clear as day, ‘Tommy Miller’. You lock your phone in frustration and toss it onto your unmade bed. Why would he do this? You’re sure that everything in the limits and waivers menu would have been a yes if Joel was your dom. But Tommy? Not that there’s anything physically wrong with Tommy. He’s definitely attractive, but he’s not Joel and you thought you made that perfectly clear.

After you shower you've decided you’ve cooled off enough to continue in the app. Tommy is still not Joel, but you want this for yourself, right? And it’s not about pleasure or attraction, it’s about the escape, and more importantly, it’s about having someone to push you and help you grow.

You click the ‘Limits and Waivers’ menu, a whole quiz comes up where you can rate your interest in different sexual and non sexual acts on a scale of one to five, and secondary checkmark if you’ve already done those things. You scroll through the list, this would be easy with Joel, all fives, all ‘highly interested’, or so you think. As you scroll through the list you get some real fetish level stuff - diapers, feet, scat play, being hung from hooks. You know enough not to kink shame anyone, but none of that interests you. As such, you rank them as a one, not at all interested.

You scroll back up to fill in all the stuff you’re more interested in.

Spanking, five.

Whips and Crops, five.

Paddles, five.

Nipple Clamps, five, fucking five hundred at this point.

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five.

Butt Plug, three - ya, that one surprised even yourself, but it’s Tommy, not Joel.

The little box to click if you’ve done those things remains unchecked. You aren’t a virgin, but the small handful of college boys you’ve entertained had the same two or three moves, all of which left you unsatisfied.

Odette bangs on your door, and you jump as your phone goes flying from your hand as she barges in. “Let’s get ready! Repeat twenty one, baby!”

You scramble off your bed to grab your phone before she does, one of your hands in a death grip on your towel, “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Oh god, you were watching porn again weren’t you?” She laughs as your cheeks flush crimson. She wanders to your closet and opens the doors, “We gotta find you something real hot for tonight, you need to get laid.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you sing nonchalantly, wandering to your vanity to run a brush through your wet hair.

A few hours later and you’re all ready to go. Jamie and Laren came over to pre-drink and do their hair and make up. The four of you blasted nineties Shania Twain while drinking rosé and doing shots of cheap tequila. You pick a floor length black dress with a slit that goes almost to your hip and drips low between your breasts and leaves your back bare. You leave your hair down, curling it loosely before applying minimal makeup, flirty false lashes and a vibrant matte red lipstick. The packaging says that it's guaranteed not to smudge for up to twelve hours.

“We’ll test that tonight on drinks and men,” Laren says as she steals it from your hand and puts it on her full, pouty lips.

Jamie surprises you with a limo. Before getting in you swipe your JMK app open and save your half-finished preferences. Tonight is not about Joel or Tommy; tonight is about you, and you deserve to be celebrated.

The table Jamie managed to secure for your birthday is perfect. You’re just off the dance floor, but raised up so that you can see the entire club. The music is loud and the room is dark, dimly lit with light pinks and purples. As you settle into the booth a young icy haired blonde girl in small black shorts and a lacy bra wanders in. “Hey babes! I’m Jade, let’s get these bottles going! Here’s the menu.”

Her eyes fall to you as she hands the bottle service menu and you both freeze. It’s her, the girl from Joel’s desk. The thump of the music fades and all you can hear is her moans and cries, the squelching of her pussy as Joel finger fucked her hard and deep. Shit, fuck, why me. She smiles at you, “Oh hey! Good to see you again.”

A chorus of, ‘again?’ and ‘how do you know each other?’ comes from your friends, all of their wide eyes staring at you.

“We don’t really,” you rush. “Just a mutual acquaintance really.”

Luckily, she gets the hint and just nods along. “What are we getting to drink ladies? I’ve heard it’s on the house so pick something expensive!”

You pick a bottle of Clase Azul tequila, Jade saying she can make different cocktails with it so you’re not all just doing shots. After a few rounds you find yourself alone in the booth while your friends go to the bathroom. Jade sits on the black leather seat beside you.

“Look, I just want to say that I’m sorry for what you saw the other week. Joel sort of forbade me from seeking you out, but if you’re in my section at the club I work at then I’m not really breaking any rules.” She’s even more beautiful up close, no fucking wonder Joel wants to give you to Tommy. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. But you see it now, why he’d pass you along. You can’t compete with a woman like her, and from the sounds of it Joel has more than one gorgeous, tall, slender blonde at his beck and call.

“No, it’s ok. I’m actually learning to be a sub soon.” You smile at her, trying to tamp down the jealousy that’s threatening to choke you.

“No way! Joel is amazing, I only see him like once a month now but you’re going to love it.” Suddenly your entire body feels like an open wound, and the lime and salt left on your hands from tequila shots burns through you. The back of your eyes burn, frustration and jealousy don’t mix well with Rosé and tequila. You blink a few times to stop the tears.

“He actually set me up with Tommy,” you croak, “Said I’m more his type.”

Just as she opens her perfect pink lips you hear the unmistakable opening to your all time favourite Shania Twain song, and as if your friends appeared from thin air the four of you yell, “Let’s go girls!”. The icy blonde pats the top of the table in your booth with one hand and holds her other hand out for yours. You climb up onto the table, your friends getting on the chairs.

Every insecurity dissipates from your body as you sing loudly with your friends, swaying your hips to the music. You surrender yourself to the genius that was Shania Twain and Mutt Lange. As you break into the chorus for a second time, a glint of silver across the club catches your eye. Standing on the other side of the dancefloor, leaning against the bar top, is Joel Miller.

His eyes are locked on yours; he’s wearing brown dress pants and a white short sleeved button up shirt, the top few buttons are left undone and it pulls at his biceps perfectly. He looks so sexy and casual, hair pushed back as he swirls the amber coloured whiskey around in its glass. He smiles devilishly, shaking his head jovially at you as you put on a show for him. As the song ends he crooks his pointer and middle fingers at you, silently calling you over. The simple motion of his fingers makes your pussy flutter, wetness slicking your thighs since you decided to forgo underwear tonight. Risky choice with the high slit of the skirt but suddenly it’s feeling like it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to your girlfriends as they help you off the table. They call for more shots and you refrain from all out sprinting to Joel.

“Quite the show you put on up there,” he says, grabbing your bicep like he did at the poker game and pulling you gently along with him.

“You didn’t seem to mind.” You twist your arm out of his grasp and stumble. You’re definitely well on your way to being drunk, but you don’t want him to know that.

He grabs for your waist to steady you. “Careful, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not. And even if I was, I’m celebrating, so I’m allowed to be drunk. Not allowed to be your sub, but allowed to be drunk.” His eyes darken and you know you’ve crossed some sort of undrawn line, but you’re at that reckless sass point in your tipsiness and you really don’t care. A saccharine sweet smile crosses your face as you plant your hands on your hips.

“You sure you wanna play this game, sweetheart?” He practically growls.

“I’m not your sweetheart, I’m Tommy’s,” it comes out poutier than you expect. You spin on the balls of your feet and head back to the dance floor. As always, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. When you approach the dance floor you see a handsome man about your age looking at you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms Joel is watching, you grab the hand of the stranger and say, “Let’s dance.”

As all young, drunk boys do, he obliges. You spin and press your back in this body, grinding your ass into him and keeping your eyes locked on Joel. How did he find you here? Why would he be out at this particular club, unless of course he’s keeping an eye on the icy blonde woman. She confirmed they only see each other once a month though, so why? Is he following you somehow?

The boy's hands move to your hips, traveling up your abdomen. You wink at Joel, pulling your hair to the side and tilting your head so the boy behind you has access to the same spot on your neck that he had in his office. Just as his lips start to lower Joel snaps. Got him, you think. He takes a few long strides onto the dance floor, pulling you away like you’re some sort of toy, like he’s a caveman coming to take what’s his. You let him pull you, yelling an apology to the boy on the dance floor.

Even though you’re happy to go with him, you can’t let him know that. “Joel, stop it. You can’t kick me out of here too.”

He takes you down a quiet, dark hallway, barely illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign. “I own half this place, baby. So I can.”

You twist your arm free from his grip, “You’re the bane of my existence, Joel Miller.”

“Why haven’t you filled out your app yet?”

You scoff, anger and annoyance starting to replace the happy feeling you had when he pulled you from the dance floor. “Are you stalking me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Doms can see where their subs are at all times if they accept the location tracker on the app.”

Shit, all those menus that you just clicked ‘Accept All’ to at the beginning. Of course your dom would be able to find you, depending on the relationship they can control everything you do. “You’re not my dom!” You state.

Joel rolls his eyes. “I know. Tommy told me you hadn’t filled it all out yet and where you were. So, why haven’t you filled out the app?”

You lean back on the railing along the wall and slide your feet from your heels, placing them on the cool tile of the floor to soothe the ache in your arches. Your hands come back to grip the railing. “It’s none of your business.”

“Sweet girl, in this case it literally is my business. The JM stands for Joel Miller.”

This time you roll your eyes and then mumble, “Because I don’t want Tommy. I don’t think I’m going to fill it out anymore.”

Joel leans back against the railing across the small hall from you, pinching the bridge of his noise in annoyance, “Please. For me, can you just fill it out?”

“For you? You made it clear you don't want me. I’m filling it out for Tommy.”

He crosses his arms, biceps bulging even more against the tight fabric of his short sleeved button up, if he’s not careful he’s going to go full incredible hulk on that shirt. Not that you’d mind.

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ and that’s also where you’re wrong. You’re fillin’ that out for you. If you’re fillin’ it out for anyone else, then you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

You let out an unimpressed sounding huff, “I’m not.”

His lips press into a tight line as he considers his words carefully; Joel is old enough to know not to argue with a twenty-one year old who’s had tequila. “Ok, you’re not. So then why do you want to be a sub?”

He watches as your whole body seems to deflate, there’s a shift, almost like desperation in your body. Sadness lines your eyes as they meet his and your voice comes out small and uncertain. “Because I’m exhausted, Joel. I - I spend all day making decisions, and studying, and learning about civil rights law. I’m always having to come up with a plan A, and B, all the way to plan Z sometimes. And then,” your head falls back to the wall as you continue speaking to the ceiling with your eyes closed, “Then I do it all over again the next day. I can’t shut it off, my brain. It just keeps going and going. It's so loud, so constant, so fucking overwhelming and there’s no escape.”

You fall silent and he steps forward, slipping his large hand behind your neck and bringing your gaze to his. You continue, fighting against the boulder that’s forming in your throat, “I don’t think I’m good enough. Or strong enough…Smart enough. I want to see for once that I am, want to see what I can overcome. For once,” you sigh heavily. “For once I just want someone to tell me how well I’m doing.”

Joel’s eyes fall to your lips, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Fill out the app.”

You take a deep breath. You feel lighter after finally getting to confessing all of that to him. That was your plan for his office the other day, but something about him flusters you and you were completely knocked off the rails by that special unknown thing Joel has over you. You whisper, “I don’t want to do this with Tommy. Please, Joel.”

Joel’s forehead comes to rest on yours, you can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes at this proximity. He smells like mint, and that same ash and leather from his office the other day. You should ask him right now why he let you in his basement today, but he speaks before you can. “Can you please, just for once, show me that you can listen?”

“Kiss me,” you hum, trailing your hands up his strong arms.

He stiffens under your touch. “What?” he asks dumbfoundedly.

“Kiss me and I’ll go home right now and fill out the app,” you whisper, inching your lips closer to his.

“You’ll go home, fill out the app, and you will not touch yourself.” It’s not a question, it’s a deep command.

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you say, “What?”

He crowds his body closer to yours, pulling his face back slightly so he can take you all in. You’ve never seen this expression before, that flash of darkness from the first time you called him Mister Miller in your car has permanently etched itself into your mind, but it’s almost like he’s transitioned into full dominant Mister Miller now. “If you want to convince me to be your dom, it’s not going to be through just a kiss. So prove to me that you can listen, prove to me that you can be a good girl. ”

The wetness between your legs starts to coat your thighs at the sound of him asking you to be a good girl. You clench your thighs together as his forehead meets yours again.

He continues, his voice just as commanding, “If I give you this kiss, you’ll go home alone, you will not touch that dripping little cunt, and you will fill out the app.”

Your pussy is throbbing with need. You should have known better than to sass him so hard tonight. Someone as competent and experienced as Joel would know exactly how to punish his sub when they were acting up. You nod your head and hum in agreement to his demands.

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

“P-please…kiss me, Joel.” Butterflies assault the inside of your stomach.

You didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to crowd you even more, your entire body pressed firmly against his. Every skin cell is screaming for his attention, every nerve firing off signals making you hyper aware of anywhere he’s touching you.

“Ask me again using that name I told you not to call me,” He knows he’s playing with fire, but at this exact moment he doesn’t care, he fucking loves the way his preferred dom name sounds coming off your lips.

“Kiss me, Mister Miller. Please?” It’s airy and desperate, your knees feel weak below you and it feels as if you can’t get a full breath in. The anticipation is killing you.

“Why?” he growls. Growing up you were always afraid of dark spaces, but if there were any monsters in this hallway they’d be running scared at the timbre of his voice right now.

Your back arches instinctively into him. You’re safe here, Joel Miller is your safety. “Because I need you, Mister Miller. Please. Just one kiss…then I’ll do anything. I promise. P-please. I need to feel you on me, Mister Miller.”

Joel bends slightly, his hands come to the back of your thighs and he lifts you, slamming you against the wall. You squeal, arms flinging around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. He pins you to the wall with his hips and lets go of your thighs. Both of you are practically panting, his cock is hard as steel, pressing against his zipper and your bare pussy. Your skirt is covering you from exposing yourself to him but something about the glint in his eye when your bodies connect makes you think he might know you don’t have any panties on.

His hands peel your arms from around his neck and he pins them with one hand above your head like he did in his office. You whimper and grind your hips against him. His free hand wraps around your throat, holding it gently.

“No,” he growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have to stop your hips. “Say it again.”

He watches your mouth hungrily as you lick your lips and you fight back a moan. He can feel your pulse firing rapidly under his calloused fingertips. A needy whisper passes your lips, filling the miniscule space left between your bodies. “I need you, Mister Miller. Please kiss me.”

With that he slams his lips against yours. It’s a desperate and heady mess of tongue and teeth, your moans being swallowed by his greedy mouth. You tilt your head to allow him in more. His tongue devours every inch that it can reach. He nips at your bottom lip before diving back in. He takes whatever he wants from you and you let him. For the first time in years your brain is quiet. No anxiety about the quickly approaching LSAT, no thinking of whatever practice question you’re stuck on. That nagging fear of being rejected from all the law schools you’ve applied to goes silent. The worrying voice that tells you you’re not good enough disappears. Everything you are is replaced by whatever Joel gives.

You grind down onto him as you flick your tongue against his; he’s so rough yet so very soft. His tongue tastes like mint and whiskey. You can feel your orgasm building, it’s going to happen embarrassingly fast at this rate. You feel light headed from lack of oxygen and the slight push of his fingers into the side of your throat. More, more, more, you yell in your head.

Joel breaks the kiss and puts you down on your feet, holding you steady as you find your legs again. His lips are puffy and even though it’s not the time to be thinking of this, you realize there isn’t a single drop of red lipstick on his face, so it really will last twelve hours without smudging.

His thumb comes to your face, swiping along your bottom lip gently, “Put your number in my phone, sweet girl.”

He holds his brand new iPhone Max out to you and you tap your number in with shaky fingers. He sends a quick text when you hand his phone back and then he kneels in front of you, helping you back into your heels. As he stands his hand trails from your ankle, all the way up the slit of your skirt to settle on your clothed hip. “Go get your stuff and go home now, baby. There’ll be a car waiting for you out front.”

He pats your bum gently as you walk on shaky legs back to your VIP booth. You feel like a newborn giraffe as you make your way to your table.

“Where have you been?” Jamie proclaims, holding up a tequila shot for you.

You wave her off, “I think I’ve had too much. I’m gonna go but I want you girls to stay. Enjoy your night for me.”

It takes a few minutes but you convince your friends to stay and that you’ll be fine and already have a ride arranged. As you exit the club there’s a gorgeous blacked out town car parked in front. An older gentleman in a suit looks at you and nods, “Good Evening, Miss. Are you the young lady Joel Miller has asked me to escort home?”

You nod back, trying to act like this is an everyday occurrence and not the most outrageous thing that’s ever happened to you. As soon as you get home you change into your most unflattering set of pajamas, hoping that if you feel unsexy then it’ll stop that insistent throb between your thighs. Joel was so fucking close again, and this time there was no underwear in his way.

You slide open the app, Tommy Miller is still set as your dom, but you go through the preferences carefully and answer as honestly as possible as to what you want. You try to focus on the questions even though you can still feel Joel's throbbing cock pushing against you, and his warm hands around your wrists and throat. You can still taste him on your lips. You shake the ghost of him off of you and remind yourself again what you want from this, aside from mind-blowing orgasms.

You fill out every section and then hit save. Just as you are about to lock your phone and try to fall asleep your phone vibrates, the JMK app as a notification.

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you stare at the notification, your head feels fuzzy, possibly from the booze, or that kiss, but you can’t believe your eyes. You close out of the app and go back in, staring at where Joel’s name has replaced Tommy’s. Just as it all starts to feel real you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved. You click on the message app.

“No coming until I say so, I know you weren’t wearing any panties tonight. Messy little pussy ruined my pants. Go to sleep now, my sweet girl.”

Next Chapter

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drdemonprince · 3 months ago

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So that was the DNC. The young liberals, white feminists, and leftists-in-name only have gladly fallen in line behind Kamala Harris, because she makes them feel good, and because all they have wanted was to find sufficient reason to stop feeling bad and get back to brunch. They've abandoned Palestine, the same way they abandoned the immunocompromised and abolition of the police, because these and so many other left political movements were little more than fashion to them. They were never interested in seeing the destruction of a political system that many of them could, theoretically, make themselves comfortable inside. They just wanted to be seen as current and good.

Did you know that there are 24 million millionaires in the United States? 24 Million. Millionaires. 24,000,000 millionaires. Up from 22 million in 2022. That's about 7.2% of the population. So much for "we are the 99%." There is a sizeable segment of this population that benefits from economic inequality and imperialism, increasingly so, as both the size of the lower class and the upper class expand.

Many millions of additional people have no interest in changing the U.S. political paradigm, because they have been propagandized to believe all compassion and competence fall away under "anarchy," or because they lack community in any meaningful sense and have no conception of how to act collectively. This is not their fault, but it means they act in ways counter to leftist organizing: calling the cops on people, refusing to show up for others, hoarding what property and wealth they do have, demanding that all acts of resistance be peaceful and brief, and pouring all of the political energies into exhorting others to vote (no matter how dyed blue or gerrymander red their districts are, no matter how genocidal, transphobic, and xenophobic all the options might be).

People think that participating in community is buying a $355 Chappel Roan ticket. The big voices for leftist organizing, supposedly, are individuals who market themselves as such on Instagram and TikTok in order to sell books, tarot decks, subscriptions, and workshops.

The sole method for social or political engagement that most people know of is making posts online, on an overblown advertising platform, and then complaining that they did not receive enough attention on their (monetized) posts. A person with shrewd social media instincts and a strong writerly voice can fake an entire political identity, professional connections, and expertise, and be followed by tens of thousands while doing nothing constructive in their day to day life or even being the person they claim to be. The more actively they post and generate revenue for Meta, the more lucrative their grift becomes for themselves and the more social power they accrue. Chasing power and profit for oneself is definitionally counter to leftist ideals. Even if they do not believe in electoralism, people like this produce endless content about the subject, because people follow it like it's sports. They're glorified entertainers, selling politically themed content, never taking themselves off the stage.

Challenge any of this and people will lash out at you, because you've attacked their cloth mother, and they're very lonely and afraid. The corporately-moderated semblance of connection is nearly all they ever get. You can't talk about sex, drugs, death, or any difficult human realities. If you don't present a disneyfied version of yourself you get accused or being a degenerate predator. If you don't participate at all, you must be apathetic, which is very bad, because having the wrong emotions or thoughts makes you evil.

The protests at the DNC were all either ill-conceived PSL honey traps leading dozens of 19-year-olds into arrest via Signal chat, or bloated 3-hour fundraising attempts miles away from the United Center and corralled by the police and Department of Justice marshalls and their collaborators. Everybody else is far away, enjoying brat colored cocktails and picking out demure tradwife clothing to disappear into for the fall. Dreaming of not having to worry anymore is akin to longing for death, and many liberal Americans have gladly embraced total obliteration.

It's not just conservatism that is a death cult. It's also the preservation of the nation-state. State-making obliterates whole cultures, languages, lands, traditions, and unique, person-to-person modes of relating. You get your food from a corporation or a government bureaucracy that does not know you and makes you fight for it, never from a person. This makes you forget that it's just persons, like the ones you know, like yourself, who do everything. It makes you cling to the state, and to normalcy, rather than speaking openly and messily to anybody else.

This is where it all begins and ends. The hope of a revolution rising up to somehow liberate Palestine was always a fantasy, the stuff of kid's movies. The truth is much darker, but more bearable, because it's real. We are very far from a dramatic political change. Most people aren't willing to even let a stranger into their homes to keep them sheltered. Did we really think they were going to rise up and put their body on the line to fight the state? Give up Starbucks and their PPO? Break the law? Lower their property value? Of course not. Get real.

And so, where do we start? By moving far, far away from the individualistic, capitalistic, clout-based avenues of political "participation" that do nothing but benefit people who present themselves as influential voices. By doing the small, slow, humble work of actual community building. Talking to your neighbors, feeding people, housing people, sacrificing something for others, driving a senior to the doctor, building a way outside of your own head.

We have to become more reliant upon one another and less moved by big personalities who will never know us or give a damn about us as people. Instagram pays me the more of you look at my posts and share them on their app. It pays every other high follower account you take political guidance from, too. You should be suspicious of me. And all the rest of them. You should place more trust in your friends, your neighbors, and the power of your own mind.

The way out of all this will not be easy. And it will not happen on here.

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serial-unaliver · 1 month ago

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had an honest to god californian moment. im in los angeles for job training and my trainer started talking about how much better seattle is for taxes cause his millionaire cousin pays hundreds of thousands in tax every year. he only has 3 million now and apparently that's not a lot to me cause "i'm from seattle". the trainer also said he's at the bottom of the barrel economically and he pays 4k a month in rent

only 3 million...can't imagine the struggle 😔

#sarcasm

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afeelgoodblog · 1 year ago

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The Best News of Last Week - August 21, 2023

🌊 - Discover the Ocean's Hidden Gem Deep down in the Pacific

1. Massachusetts passed a millionaire's tax. Now, the revenue is paying for free public school lunches.

Every kid in Massachusetts will get a free lunch, paid for by proceeds from a new state tax on millionaires.

A new 4% tax on the state's wealthiest residents will account for $1 billion of the state's $56 billion fiscal budget for 2024, according to state documents. A portion of those funds will be used to provide all public-school students with free weekday meals, according to State House News Service.

2. Plant-based filter removes up to 99.9% of microplastics from water

Researchers may have found an effective, green way to remove microplastics from our water using readily available plant materials. Their device was found to capture up to 99.9% of a wide variety of microplastics known to pose a health risk to humans.

3. Scientists Find A Whole New Ecosystem Hiding Beneath Earth's Seafloor

youtube

Most recently, aquanauts on board a vessel from the Schmidt Ocean Institute used an underwater robot to turn over slabs of volcanic crust in the deep, dark Pacific. Underneath the seafloor of this well-studied site, the international team of researchers found veins of subsurface fluids swimming with life that has never been seen before.

It's a whole new world we didn't know existed.

4. How solar has exploded in the US in just a year

Solar and storage companies have announced over $100 billion in private sector investments in the US since the passage of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) a year ago, according to a new analysis released today by the Solar Energy Industries Association (SEIA).

Since President Joe Biden signed the IRA in August 2022, 51 solar factories have been announced or expanded in the US.

5. Researchers have identified a new pack of endangered gray wolves in California

A new pack of gray wolves has shown up in California’s Sierra Nevada, several hundred miles away from any other known population of the endangered species, wildlife officials announced Friday.

It’s a discovery to make researchers howl with delight, given that the native species was hunted to extinction in California in the 1920s. Only in the past decade or so have a few gray wolves wandered back into the state from out-of-state packs.

6. Record-Breaking Cleanup: 25,000 Pounds of Trash Removed from Pacific Garbage Patch

Ocean cleanup crews have fished out the most trash ever taken from one of the largest garbage patches in the world.

The Ocean Cleanup, a nonprofit environmental engineering organization, saw its largest extraction earlier this month by removing about 25,000 pounds of trash from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, Alex Tobin, head of public relations and media for the organization

7. The Inflation Reduction Act Took U.S. Climate Action Global

The U.S. Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) aimed to promote clean energy investments in the U.S. and globally. In its first year, the IRA successfully spurred other nations to develop competitive climate plans.

Clean energy projects in 44 U.S. states driven by the IRA have generated over 170,600 jobs and $278 billion in investments, aligning with Paris Agreement goals.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

#blessed #best news of last week #Youtube

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auspicioustidings · 4 months ago

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Not to be on my romance novel trope bullshit but like... 141 who got out of the game and started a security company years ago. They weren't the most honest about how they made their money, but now they're easily multi millionaires heading to billionaire territory. They're mean fuckers, a little entitled, think they are better than everyone else and are jaded towards the idea of protecting the innocent that they signed up for all those years ago (why should they? Nobody is really innocent).

What I'm saying is you could totally fix them <3

#mhairidrabbles #which is your prerogative - I would simply make them worse

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mecachrome · 11 months ago

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pre-mclaren oscar piastri primer (ft. maxf, landoscar)

0. introduction

for a few months now i've been wanting to make both an oscar primer and a timeline of pre-mclaren landoscar moments, but i couldn't figure out which one to prioritize… then after some deliberation i finally realized i could just combine the two things together! so. here is an oscar-centric timeline that is mainly about his racing background, moving to the uk, and how he became acquainted with other members of the rfm pack—aka lando, maxf, and logan. i don't know whether any of this information is useful or even vaguely interesting, but i mostly just wrote it for myself and thought i'd share what i had in case anyone else wanted to check it out. please feel free to comment or shoot me an ask if anything here is egregiously incorrect; i've checked and linked as many sources as i could but it's of course possible that some errors remain :)

1. background, rc racing, early karting days (2007-2015)

oscar piastri was born on april 6, 2001 in brighton east, a suburb of melbourne not far from albert park circuit, as the son of chris and nicole and to-be oldest brother to 3 younger sisters. a love for all things automotive ran deep in the piastri family: both of his grandfathers were mechanics and his father had also co-founded his own vehicle diagnostics software company, hp tuners, aka oscar's sponsor throughout his racing career. thanks to his father's business, oscar's family was objectively well-off and managed to contribute a fairly substantial amount of support toward his junior career, but they also weren't swimming in cash by multi-millionaire motorsport standards either.

(L-R) edie, mae, hattie, and oscar, from nicole's twitter — each sibling is ~2 years apart (source)

while most drivers on the current grid were introduced to motorsport through go-karting, usually at or before the age of 7, oscar's path to single-seaters differed slightly. he first developed an interest in racing via remote-controlled cars at the age of 6, when his father brought him a monster truck as a souvenir back from a business trip in america. oscar began racing them that same year, eventually moving to safer electric track vehicles and even winning the second class of the national titles in 2010, at the age of 9. he was so small then that he often needed to stand on a milk crate to see the cars on track, and the next-youngest competitor at the time was twice his age. (source)

youtube

oscar on the podium at age 8 (nov 16, 2009)

oscar with his father chris, who often competed alongside him in a separate class (dec 21, 2010)

by 2011, oscar and his father were seriously considering his potential of pursuing rc racing as a viable career path, but things changed when he was introduced to karting via a friend's daughter in the rc community and his aspirations slowly shifted toward racing from inside a car. oscar was an unsurprisingly sporty and competitive child growing up; he'd played some cricket and aussie rules football and knew that all he wanted to do was race professionally, full-stop, at the time thinking along the lines of australian racing categories like v8 supercars. he was still competing in remote car racing as late as 2013, but he began karting seriously within australia in 2014, placing respectably in the junior categories of several regional karting series against relatively senior and more-experienced racers, and even going to france for a one-off event where he finished on the podium of the iame international junior x30 final. this outing affirmed his potential to his father and motivated the two of them to split time between australia and europe in 2015 as they juggled his karting future; plans for two more european events that year fell through, including the cik-fia world championship at the kfj level (which logan sargeant would go on to win), but at this point they were officially looking to take his career to the next level and commit fully to european karting in 2016.

this is when ricky flynn (and the hypothetical idea of lando norris!!!) comes in. before we get into rfm and karting professionally in europe, it's important to note that the defining aspect of landoscar's junior careers is that their pathways never once intersected. in fact, they don't even seem to have met properly before oscar entered the f1 grid as alpine reserve, although they'd spoken over social media and oscar was familiar with several people around lando's life—for example, maxf, logan, guanyu, and even lando's older brother oliver, who had also raced for rfm.

in short, you could say that landoscar's biggest hindrance was their parallel excellence. oscar was good enough to catch up and even surpass everyone else at lando's level, but lando remained untouchable throughout the years. oscar is only 1.5 years younger than him, but their f1 careers are offset by 4 years (2019 vs. 2023 debut) because of exactly two things: oscar's 2022 gap year in alpine and his two attempts at formula renault eurocup. on the other hand, lando sped through all of his junior categories in blistering fashion, falling short of the championship only once: the year he placed 2nd in f2 behind george russell. this is significant because many talk about the clinical nature of oscar's rapid single-seater ascension and three b2b2b victories (still very impressive, especially given his limited karting career!), but all of that speaks equally to the illustrious nature of lando's junior success and the sheer magnitude of faith placed in him as mclaren's "golden boy" coming up the ranks. to put things into further perspective, lando was teammates with maxf and jehan daruvala at rfm until 2014, jehan competing in the same class and max one below, yet by the time oscar was racing max and jehan—in f3 in 2020 and f2 in 2021, respectively—lando was already into his 2nd and 3rd years of f1. here's a chart that hopefully makes a bit more sense:

majorly simplified timeline showing lando, guanyu, maxf, logan, and oscar's junior careers + the karting classes they primarily competed in each calendar year. maxf did not complete his 2nd f3 season and many of them contested multiple/different formula renault series, but this is just a rough overview of their feeder series experience.

2. moving to europe, rfm, regional formulae (2016-2019)

back in australia, oscar was a member of the oakleigh go-kart racing club and being actively mentored by james sera, a multi-time australian karting champion and fa kart dealer who worked with young karting talents alongside his cousin david. in late-2015, he presumably helped oscar and his father reach out to ricky flynn, who ran ricky flynn motorsport (rfm) and whose team was at the time enjoying exorbitant success in the karting scene; lando had won the world championship at the kf level the year prior, and logan would soon clinch the kfj title in 2015, results which further drew oscar's interest toward the team. ricky flynn agreed to take oscar on and have him and his dad move out to europe, and by november 2015 oscar announced on social media that he would be joining rfm the next year. in january of 2016, he and his father moved to hertford, uk, so that oscar could begin a 100-day karting program and travel extensively around europe to attend races. this is where he met logan sargeant, who was in his final year on the team but competing a class above, now at the ok (previously kf) level. oscar himself was only competing in the okj class.

not oscar-related, but as you can see guanyu, logan, and maxf were already acquainted before oscar and logan met, since the three of them and lando had been in rfm together as of 2014 — (may 11, 2014) & (feb 6, 2015)

oscar and logan in 2016

in an interview published on june 7, 2023, oscar reflected on leaving australia and committing to his racing dream, saying:

"i think if there was a turning point, it was probably when i started finishing towards the front in australia, and i started winning a couple of races here and there and finishing in the top three of championships and stuff, and then went to europe and fully committed to going down that route. [...] there's obviously a very big commitment at that point when you move halfway across the world without family and stuff. so i knew at that point that i really wanted to become a professional because, firstly, that's what i want to do anyway, but, secondly, now i'm sacrificing seeing my family, and stuff like that to be able to do this — which was a sacrifice i was more than willing to make."

like the majority of oscar's karting career, his time with ricky flynn can primarily be summarized as decent. none of his performances were particularly stellar, and in november 2016 he placed 6th in the fia world championship final behind the likes of victor martins and théo pourchaire (he mainly competed against guys like them, dennis hauger, caio collet, etc… once again logan was a class above and lando/maxf had already graduated to single-seaters), but he showed promising racing foundations and a great capacity for improvement, especially given that he'd moved to europe the same year and was still adjusting to life and racing on the opposite hemisphere. about 6 months into his new karting venture, oscar had settled in reasonably well and his father decided he would return to australia to continue on with his life, so they made the joint decision that oscar was to begin boarding at haileybury's uk campus and continue racing in europe entirely on his own. uk and australian school years are misaligned, so my personal understanding is he moved to europe after finishing year 9 in australia, attempted online school/took a few months off (he says he did online coursework here, but mentioned here that he was out of school, so it sounds like it must have been a very half-hearted effort…), came back to australia over the uk summer to do some more karting, then began boarding in september 2016 as a year 10 student. he spent ~4 years there and eventually received his a-levels in 2020, except his final year was disrupted by covid and he never sat his exams. (blog post mentioning his a-levels + btg transcript excerpt about his exams; his website says he attended haileybury from 2016-19, but i think this mainly encapsulates his boarding period, as he was still doing remote work in april 2020.)

oscar in f4 with his gcse revision guide, 📸 sebastiaan rozendaal (may 20, 2018)

2016 is also when oscar began his well-documented super-liking of several of lando's social media profiles. i think understanding oscar's time in rfm and his extremely british single-seater origins helps better paint his history with lando and maxf; my personal understanding of pre-mclaren landoscar is that while oscar never formally met lando or maxf during his karting days, he knew of them quite well through rfm and thus followed them on instagram/twitter after moving to the uk. of course, oscar has a fairly active social media presence in general, so young oscar quietly liked instagram posts and tweets from many different people, but i do feel compelled to note that in the early days he liked lando, maxf, and logan's posts with seriously impressive frequency compared to anyone else on the grid (or anyone in general, really); after creating his twitter account in may 2016, some of the very first tweets oscar liked were from maxf, and he also liked a multitude of mundane lando tweets from 2016 until… today, while on the other hand he didn't start liking george's tweets—another similarly-aged young british talent—until late 2017. (he does have some fun george-admiring moments though, but that can wait for another time!) outside of rfm, other people oscar was familiar with during his early racing years were british f4 teammate ayrton simmons, to-be series champion jamie caroline, and old australian karting friend christian pancione, who appears to still be one of his best mates (if not his best) as of today. fun fact is that christian raced for the carrera cup as a support event to the australian gp in 2023; here's oscar allegedly checking the quali live timing at lunch during his own media day.

so, to conclude, oscar's early lando focus basically traces back to the motorsport path he took at the behest and guidance of his early rfm connections in the uk. the thing is that despite growing up in australia and vaguely admiring several aussie drivers in f1 as a child (read: mark webber and eventually daniel ricciardo), oscar has never had a specific driver he consistently mentions when pressed for his racing "idol," likely since his personality inherently resists idolatry and he instead views successful people more as actionable benchmarks or reference points for self-improvement rather than as unattainable paragons of accomplishment. as a kid forced to grow up almost entirely on his own, the majority of his racing aspirations were molded independently in the uk—he completed his karting career in the uk, boarded at haileybury for 4 years (fun fact: other drivers to attend include jehan, callum ilott, and clément novalak; callum was a few years above oscar and finished school in 2017, but the two would later become quite talkative over social media anyway), raced in british f4, became a brdc member, contested eurocup under a british license and therefore had the british flag raised and british national anthem played during his wins, stayed in the uk even at alpine since the factory is based in enstone, etc. oscar basically moved to the uk from australia without having really met anyone significant in the racing scene (other than jack doohan, or more importantly jack's father mick, but jack is younger and did an extra year of karting) and pretty much didn't have anyone specific to "look up to" at the time. oscar's first acknowledgement of lando's online existence was in december 2015, when he liked one of lando's instagram posts prior to moving to england, so it can be assumed that lando basically functioned as his most accessible reference point in the junior ladder as a 14 year old dipping his toes into the european racing scene for the first time. that is my highly subjective analysis of the situation!

select quotes re: oscar's inconsistent responses to his motorsport "hero" (or his favorite driver / a driver he looks up to in general):

(f1fs; mar 9, 2022) "i started watching f1 in… 2009 was the first season i properly watched. so when brawn came in, obviously mark was the only aussie on the grid at that point, so i was kind of naturally going for him. then joined by daniel, so obviously going to support the aussies, but i think watching lewis has been nothing short of spectacular, and a very good role model. [...] i think when i was first watching, i supported mark, but, you know, and i hope he takes no offense to this—vettel was winning everything at that point. so i was supporting mark, but vettel was doing most of the winning. i think now that i understand more about racing though, i would say [the driver i look up to the most is] lewis, mainly. the way he goes about things on and off the track is quite exceptional."

(mcl youtube; mar 29, 2023) sporting idols mentioned: ayrton senna, alain prost, michael jordan (see also ultimate athletes list)

(p1; aug 10, 2023) "i would say i never had like one specific idol. when i was growing up watching mark webber was at red bull, and obviously being australian, red bull being very quick at the time, i kind of naturally followed him. i mean—even like some of the guys in the junior ranks above me. like lando was always kind of two, three years above me, winning… most things on his way up. so i guess kind of him in some ways?"

(eff won; dec 4, 2023) "i don’t really have like one specific [idol]. i think what lewis has been able to do in terms of getting to seven world championships was incredibly impressive. i think what max is doing now is also very impressive…"

the first lando post oscar liked on instagram (dec 21, 2015)

the first maxf posts oscar liked; instagram (feb 26, 2016) & twitter (may 9, 2016)

anyway, back to british f4! despite his initially unconventional foray into motorsport, oscar's journey progressed in a much more orderly fashion once he stepped up to single-seaters. his actual debut was in f4 uae, which he ran 3 rounds of between 2016 and 2017 (another fun fact: this is where he briefly acquainted himself with mclaren indycar driver david malukas, who would later recall him being very intelligent and whom zak brown allegedly spoke to oscar about before appointing to their indy team). after cutting his teeth on actual car-racing for the first time, oscar decided against moving up to the ok class as he felt confident in his ability to be competitive in single-seaters. his first full season was therefore the 2017 british f4 championship, during which oscar signed with arden while logan went to reigning champions carlin (lando had won with them in 2015, then maxf in 2016). oscar made his way to the top step 6 times in the season and placed just barely above logan for 2nd in the championship, finishing behind the considerably more experienced jamie caroline. arden was also founded and is currently owned by red bull team principal christian horner, so it was during oscar's time there that christian took note of and interest in his talent; oscar reportedly did a few runs in the red bull simulator but was passed over for joining the academy, which christian later voiced regret on. (source)

maxf, logan (center), and oscar (to max's right) on a day maxf was visiting the 2017 british f4 grid (april 11, 2017)

linus lundqvist, oscar, and logan on the podium at snetterton (jul 30, 2017)

jamie and oscar, who were… er, mathematically in the main championship fight. for some reason they made them take these photos (sep 30, 2017)

after a successful f4 outing with arden, oscar returned to the team for his first season of formula renault eurocup in 2018, a renault series that ran in its specific configuration until 2020 before merging with the parallel regional series frec to become what is today known as freca. this season proved to be less competitive for oscar, as arden was relatively inexperienced in this series and oscar's three teammates were afflicted with what can colloquially be referred to as a "skill issue," making it difficult to collectively develop the car throughout the season. (blog interview) the series was thus returning driver maxf's to lose, who at the time was racing for reigning champs r-ace with teammates that included oscar's fellow rookies logan and victor martins.

despite the unideal environment, oscar managed to prove his worth by placing a respectable 8th in the series, scoring 110 points as a rookie driver and capping the season off with 3 podiums and a top-finish of 2nd place—a jarring contrast to his teammates' joint total of 12 points. this result attracted the attention of r-ace and granted him a seat with them for the 2019 season, at which point maxf and logan both graduated to f3. thankfully that wasn't too much of a concern for oscar since he'd always intended to do two seasons of eurocup, and now he finally had a chance to win the first serious championship of his racing career with an established racing outfit.

oscar, max, and yifei ye on the hockenheim r2 podium (sep 23, 2018) [full gifset]

oscar's second season of eurocup is when he truly started proving himself as a driver, or at least to the people whose names, money, and opinions mattered around the paddock. his main competition in 2019 was again victor, who was now racing for mp and had been made a member of the renault sport academy back in 2018 after a strong performance in french f4. despite a close title fight, oscar managed to hold him off for the championship in the final race of the season, kicking off what would soon become an impressive string of consecutive single-seater series titles. even sweeter was the fact that all eurocup champions were awarded a renault sport academy spot that could be left or taken as they pleased, and of course—while the finances weren't nearly as impressive as alpine would later proclaim in their baseless smear campaign—oscar's connections in the racing world were limited as an australian driver almost exclusively managed by his father, so he gladly accepted the offer for the many venues of support renault presented to him.

see also: bby oscar briefly mentioning lando after winning eurocup in 2019 (@ 1:10)

oscar being lifted by his team (r-ace) after placing 4th in the abu dhabi finale and winning the title by 7.5 points

3. renault sport academy, lockdown, f3 (2020)

many things happened in 2020. one: oscar became an official member of the renault sport academy, joining the likes of max (who'd been picked up on merit after winning british f4 in 2017), guanyu, christian lundgaard, caio collett, and fellow new recruit hadrien david (victor had been strategically demoted after oscar's win because renault is a notoriously unserious organization, but again this is not the post). two: by the time oscar was ready for f3, moving up the ladder proved to be exorbitantly expensive, and he realized he needed better funds and managerial support to sort his career out. he'd been offered a spot in prema's f3 team by team-owner rené rosin at the end of his eurocup season, who'd named him for the post-season test before the championship was over and stressed that the spot was his no matter where he finished. (source) prema is unquestionably one of the top—if not frequently the top—teams one can drive for in most junior series (though there is also somewhat of a self-selection bias; if you ask oscar he is not a significant beneficiary of prematax!), having absolutely demolished the f3 competition that same year and achieved a clean sweep of the drivers' standings with rob shwartzman, marcus armstrong, and jehan at 1-2-3 consecutively. oscar completed post-season testing with them in spain alongside to-be teammates logan and fred vesti in october (source), before confirming on jan 26, 2020 that he would be joining them for the f3 season as a renault junior.

so, where does mark webber come in here? apparently mark's trainer from red bull and wec had also been oscar's trainer since 2016 (i'm pretty sure this is australian physiologist simon sostaric), and it was through their joint connection that oscar was introduced to mark. according to mclaren's 2023 season preview, "the pair hit it off, and webber took his countryman under his wing," signing oscar to jam sports management, aka the management agency he runs with his wife ann. mark's support would become a major factor in helping oscar progress through the feeder ranks and establish himself in f1, mainly because he had actual connections and could help oscar network with sponsors and negotiate his way during future signings. of course, more on this later.

as an aside, here are a few things mark has said about oscar:

"he’s got that white line fever when he puts his helmet on and turns into a different character, which is sensational." (mar 1, 2020)

"one of oscar’s biggest strengths by a mile, compared to everyone he is competing against — and this will be a huge string to his bow when he makes it to f1 — is his composure. he has immense levels of composure. [...] if you are weak mentally you won’t make it. he was on his own from an early age. he did brilliantly with his studies. but the racing disease would not go away, he wants it very much." (sydney morning herald; dec 11, 2021)

"he’s a prost, mate. he’s such a thinker and so calm. at first i thought i needed to inject a bit of urgency in him, but actually no, he’s got his own frequency. that’s just where he is." (the race; oct 7, 2023)

estimates provided by chris piastri on the cost of oscar's junior career, stressing the million-dollar commitments of running a single season of f3 or f2 (source)

anyway, back to the chaotic events of 2020. i think something that's good to keep in mind when discussing oscar's time in the renault sport academy is that he was actually a relatively new recruit, as in he only participated in a single training camp with the other juniors in 2020 and most of them (max, christian, guanyu, the temporary ghost of victor) already knew each other before. oscar essentially met with renault's factory team in early 2020, filmed promotional material with other juniors in january before attending the season opener together in february and then heading to winter training camp later that month, after which he and max left early for f3 pre-season testing in bahrain on march 1—a blessing in disguise, seeing as caio, hadrien, and christian remained behind and would soon be stuck quaranting in a hotel in tenerife—then briefly spent a week at school before returning home for what was meant to be a quick pit stop at the australian gp, which at the time had yet to be canceled.

then, of course, lockdown happened.

simplified breakdown of renault junior stints, notably showcasing the academy's struggles to meaningfully promote any of its juniors

oscar at the 2020 renault season opener alongside then-academy director mia sharizman, then-tp cyril abiteboul, alain prost, f1 drivers esteban ocon and daniel ricciardo, and the other academy juniors: fewtrell, lundgaard, zhou, david (feb 12, 2020)

oscar and maxf behind the scenes of the same event (feb 12, 2020)

stuck in australia for three months, oscar would end up participating in two fia virtual races, one for f2 and another for f1 (jun 7, 2020). a fun landoscar tidbit is that he finished 5th in the virtual gp right behind lando, so they technically had raced each other before 2023, depending on... well, whether you count a 2020 sim race wherein george russell and alex albon lead the pack as a real race. nevertheless, this was a time when drivers were becoming much more active online, seeing as streaming was the best way to keep their images relevant and connect with fans, and despite oscar expressing little interest in streaming on twitch he would still experience a considerable uptick in his online activity and twitter reach that year.

racing resumed on july 4 at the red bull ring in austria; oscar had been granted an exemption to travel to the uk and complete a 2-week quarantine back on may 27, a reassuring indicator to the motorsport world that the f3 season would run after all. now that he no longer had to attend school, having received 2 b's and 1 c for his maths, physics, and computer science a-levels, oscar relocated from hertford to oxford in june to be near the renault facilities, which he visited nearly every day to train at, and began living independently (as in in a flat) for the first time since 2016, rooming with fellow renault junior caio collet.

as i said before, this season is when oscar's online presence and "memeability" began to really conceptualize, enabled primarily by the fact that he was a) finally living outside of a school dormitory, and b) now, of course, signed at prema, a team notorious for its social media visibility, literal family atmosphere, and frequent youtube pandering. according to this f3 article, his twitter followers jumped from 795 at the start of the season to 11.6k by the time he won the championship, an audience built significantly off the self-deprecating string of jokes he used to tweet regarding drs and general reliability issues faced throughout the season.

what i guess i want to touch on here is how oscar's online presence has always been concentrated around the bare fundamentals of his personality: dry humor, candid words, sparing emojis, a few humorous photos detailing the mundane reality of his everyday routines, and at most the occasional inopportune meme or reaction gif (#thepiastri 🤷‍♂️, f2 in baku, jetpack guy, so on). he's bantered frequently with callum on twitter and near-obsessively liked memes, videos, and other updates lando shares with his audience, but he also has seemingly little interest in building up his own "brand" the way lando so smartly has with ln4 and quadrant, and quite frankly seems viscerally incapable of wanting to engage one-to-one with fans or otherwise leveraging the popularity of his material image. basically what i like to say is that oscar enjoys being adjacent to "lad humor" and will happily enable it, but he really has no interest in being the one to initiate it himself!

"there's some things you want to share, some things you don’t. in today's age and sort of having the profile that us drivers do, we kind of just have everything shared,” piastri said. “but (social media) can be used for good, certainly within the profiles that we have. but in some ways, it can be negative, and there's always going to be people out there that don't like you for being you.” piastri tries to write as many of his posts as possible, and he checks those written by his team to be sure they sound authentically him. (the athletic; jun 29, 2023)

along these lines, oscar does enjoy the spotlight, only he seems to prefer it concentrated in a specific lens toward a specific productive end. he's endlessly capable of seeing the objective upside of a situation, joking after he was made a meme in baku following his f2 sr1 collision that he was all for it if it got him popularity. after his eurocup championship he also said: "i think everyone loves a bit of spotlight on them. i think that's just human nature, so a bit of attention's always nice." which is interesting to me!

but back to racing. this season would unexpectedly become two things: maxf's last competitive season in motorsport—especially disappointing considering that he'd gone into the championship expecting to put on a second-season title charge, instead failing to gel with the hitech team to the point that each increasingly poor weekend made him spiral mentally—as well as oscar and logan's last season racing against each other before f1, since logan would later encounter financial difficulties that left him stranded in f3 as oscar catapulted himself to f2 victory. 2020 was obviously a weird season in general because of covid and the gap from pre-season testing, so it also meant that oscar had gone into the season fairly rusty; he managed to win the first race of the season, but on top of his drs rollercoaster he did struggle with middling results in qualifying and was met step-by-step throughout the championship by logan.

maxf's last race in f3 was the barcelona sprint race on august 16, with three rounds left to the end of the season. he dnfed in an unfortunate first-lap incident mere moments after oscar charged his way up from 5th on the grid to the front of the pack, where he would eventually breeze his way to victory and pull himself near-level with logan for the championship lead. i recognize that this is an oscar post and not a maxf post, but i think their time in f3 during an extremely isolated and covid-affected period speaks to both an interesting dynamic between them (the little kid who always lagged a series behind you suddenly beating you on merit) and their respective temperaments toward racing. while at renault, max reportedly lived with jack aitken during the week but would return to his family home on weekends, so it makes sense that he struggled to adapt when covid hit and drivers were collectively forced into very regimented sporting bubbles. mark webber, who worked for channel 4 as a commentator and had access to the f1 paddock, basically couldn't see oscar in person and instead spoke to him over the phone every day on race weekends. maxf said of his decision to quit:

"normally [...] i’m able to stay calm under pressure and i don’t let many things get to me but when you have a bad qualifying result and you see guys up there that you know you’re capable of beating, it definitely takes a dig at you inside and it’s been a lot to process throughout the year." (source)

while then-academy director mia sharizman, who worked closely with the renault juniors, spoke of oscar's inherent propensity for independence and how he adapted well to the pressures of living on his own:

"if you look at oscar piastri, he has been living on his own, [away] from his family who are in melbourne for the past five to six years. because he has been living on his own in boarding school, he learns how to live on his own, and he thrives in that. we have to force him... 'have you spoken to your father?!' it's just things like that, but he thrives in that. that's why he thrived in those weekends racing. he loves being on his own without anybody. on the other hand, we had max fewtrell, for example, who can't – he couldn't survive the 11 weekends racing, because he always needed his family to be around him. so those are the things that suddenly you see and, i think that that we see now, after a few years a driver who is quick, a driver who has the talent, and then the driver who is stable." (source)

2020 is also when lando and oscar spoke to each other on twitter for the first time. yay! after lando went semi-viral for having a meltdown over a hornet on three separate social media platforms, oscar first joked with him about it on august 24 (this was incidentally also the day maxf announced his functional retirement, which oscar liked as well 😭), before referencing the incident again a few weeks later in september.

(aug 24, 2020) / (sep 10, 2020)

outside of drs tweets and trying desperately to banter with lando norris, oscar's popular tweets at the time included several food-related mishaps and home appliance tragedies. while this isn't actually a lando moment, he was also slandered by the LN4 twitter account a month later on october 17 for reasons that remain a mystery, resulting in this set of interactions:

(oct 17, 2020) / (oct 19, 2020)

bonus: maxf's tweets @ oscar (when you aren't close enough to just text him.......)

but back to f3. similarly to his second season of eurocup, oscar would go on to clinch the title in only the final race of the year, this time even more stressfully—he never got pole that season and won arguably off of consistency, benefiting from errors and unfortunate collisions involving his primary competitors. after a hectic qualifying and string of contentious grid penalties set for the before-last round in monza, he began the feature race 15th on the grid but put on an impressive performance to finish on the podium, buffing his points lead after logan was tapped by clément and put out of the points. he, logan, and fred all dnfed in race 2 (read: the novalak pendulum swung away from oscar's favor to maintain stringent cosmic equilibrium, while logan and fred threw away a points opportunity with a teammate4teammate love tap), and oscar went into mugello with only an 8-point lead over logan and a 24-point lead over pourchaire. this weekend proved equally hectic, as is frequently the case with f3 racing standards, but in short oscar and logan entered the final sprint race level on points, with théo approaching terrifyingly near in their rearview mirrors. logan was unceremoniously taken out of contention on the first lap after contact with zendeli, and oscar managed to squeak his way to 164 points in the championship by placing 7th in the race; théo finished 3rd, with 161 points, two positions away from claiming both the race and the championship title.

a succinct summary of an eventful season! (posted jun 30, 2021)

despite winning the f3 championship in far-from-dominant fashion, oscar's career was now steadily on an upward trend. on october 30 he was rewarded with a private test in the r.s.18 at bahrain alongside christian and guanyu, and a month later confirmed that he would be racing for prema again in f2 (december 1, 2020). as a rookie f3 champion there was a moderate amount of interest in him, but no one really expected him to carry home the f2 title on his first try and so one of the main favorites going into the next season was his second-year teammate and 2019 f3 champion rob shwartzman.

4. f2, alpine reserve duties, #piastrigate (2021-2022)

at the start of 2021, fernando officially took daniel's place at renault and the team rebranded itself as alpine, parting ways with team principal cyril abiteboul and functionally replacing him with new ceo laurent rossi—part of a no-tp management structure, frankly a self-evident infrastructural faux-pas from a million miles away. the renault sport academy was then also renamed to alpine academy; again i know that this is an oscar post so i won't get too into the details of Alpine Being Alpine, but understanding how the academy functioned does help better contextualize the inevitable unfurling of piastrigate.

the main issue, really, would always be laurent rossi, or at least the values laurent rossi had been hired to represent and which he willingly peddled during his controversial tenure at alpine. after rossi's appointment it was reported that "the renamed alpine academy was now being tugged in two directions between director mia sharizman's ideal as a creator of future f1 drivers and alpine's chief executive officer laurent rossi's commercially-led preferences." (source) mia directed the academy from january 2016 until may 2022, and had been the one to restructure its recruitment process by demanding better funding and robust testing programs to cyril:

"when we first restarted the team in 2016, it was, we didn't even have a two-year-old car program at that time. we had to use a 2012 program using the [lotus] e20. [...] then in 2018, i went through it, and i said to cyril abiteboul, "look, let's try and do this." we needed financial resources. i needed a head start with financial resources to kick start the program whereby you entice drivers, and you offer [a place] to the academy drivers. it was more to see how they are... it was more of an evaluation process... that was what the first idea was. then we developed the program to develop the drivers to suit their formual 2 program." (source)

(note: mia also believed that 2020 was a disappointing year for all of his juniors save for oscar's performance in f3, which is a whole other thing. but rossi's greatest shortcoming was that he had singular, insulated vision, and he resisted any external input to the detriment of reactionary business decisions, a fact that alienated alain prost and soon led to his exit from the outfit in 2022. not a good look!!! prost would later call rossi "the best example of the dunning-kruger effect, that of an incapable leader who thinks himself able to overcome his incompetence with his arrogance and lack of humanity toward his troops." 🤌)

so basically, the cracks of mind-boggling incompetence within the team's leadership structure were long evident. on a brighter note, oscar's 2021 f2 season would quickly become his strongest single-seater contest ever (f1 youtube has a good summarizing video of his season, if interested); because of covid, f2 was experimenting with a three-race format this year in which quali set the reverse grid for sr1 and sr1 results then set the reverse grid for sr2, which essentially meant high qualifiers were rewarded for simply maintaining composure in the first sprint and running cleanly in the top 10 in order to secure a favorable grid spot in sr2. oscar adapted well to this format, building off his reputation of smooth, consistent driving on top of slowly improving his qualifying results over the course of the season, finally breaking through with his first feature-race win in monza.

oscar with mia sharizman

this is also around the time when lando mentioned oscar in official f1 media for the first time, reading off a question about him to daniel in an interview posted in october:

"this one's not even about formula one. it's about oscar piastri. oscar pias-tree! [...] he's been on it this year." — (full video) (oct 1, 2021)

of his own f2 campaign, oscar said:

"i thought that i could challenge for race wins, but i probably wasn't expecting to be so consistently at the front. consistency is something that i’ve had as a trait throughout my career, and i was expecting to be consistent in my results this year — but maybe a bit lower down!" (source)

not only did he end up being consistently at the front, he became virtually unstoppable in the second half of the season. on december 11, oscar clinched the title in abu dhabi with two races to spare, ending the season with 5 consecutive poles and 4 consecutive feature wins, 60.5 points above his previously-favored teammate in the standings. #notbadforashitqualifier!

by now oscar was a hot commodity in the paddock; the only problem was that alpine didn't really care, mainly because rossi had enthusiastically re-signed ocon to a three-year deal in 2021 and held zero intention of actually promoting any of its juniors to one of the race seats, plus the one open spot at alfa romeo had instead gone to guanyu and his considerable financial package (though oscar has always been vocally defensive of guanyu's appointment to his detractors). instead of moving to another series, such as indycar or super formula, oscar recognized that he'd proven everything he needed to prove within the feeder system and opted to remain on the grid as alpine's reserve driver, mainly so that he could embed himself in an f1 team environment and—most crucially—avoid being left "out of sight, out of mind," because once you go to america you usually don't come back.

i'll keep the rest of this post brief since i feel like everyone already knows What Went Down, but a quick highlight for fellow landoscar enjoyers was the 2022 australian gp on april 10, during which oscar accompanied rosanna tennant for the post-race show and awkwardly participated in a chaotic lando & alex interview. as far as i know, this was landoscar's first time interacting on-camera!

o: "i haven't raced either of them, no." l: "not yet!" o: "not yet. hopefully soon." — (full video) (apr 10, 2022)

then silly season started, and everything was thrown into disarray when sebastian vettel announced his imminent retirement and fernando subsequently took his place at aston martin; alpine scrambled to recover from this blindsided move and prematurely promoted oscar to an f1 seat, to which oscar eventually posted The Tweet—claiming he'd never signed a contract with alpine and would not be racing for them in 2023, thus kicking off #piastrigate. or the piasco, or whatever you prefer to call it.

here's a good article that properly summarizes the crb ruling, but tl;dr: mclaren and alpine had come to an agreement back in march to loan oscar to mclaren's stable of reserve drivers after daniel contracted covid; mark webber, who was close to andreas seidl from their time at porsche in wec, quietly negotiated a contract with mclaren for 2023 that oscar would then sign on july 4, which was reportedly initially a reserve deal with an upgrade clause to a full-time drive given a dr buyout; alpine's legal team turned out to be essentially one overworked legal director who mishandled the situation thanks to a lack of organizational support, while a concrete williams deal never actually existed no matter what people continuously allege, and any proprietary right to oscar's services that alpine purported to have for the 2023 season would soon be voided by crb rule on september 2. in other words, they dun goofed.

because tumblr dies when i try to include it in this post, here's a link to a condensed chronological timeline version of this post.

that's it for now. i'm sure you know how the rest goes!!!

#oscar piastri #*m #quite possibly the dumbest thing i've ever written and most likely of no use to anyone at all. but i had fun so no flames pls 🥲☝️#there's so much more i could have said this is quite frankly the condensed version... scrapped a whole separate section on just his psyche #i need 2 be normal.........#op meta

526 notes · View notes

ybklix · 4 months ago

Note

forbidden love with innie 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

★ pairing: yang jeongin x fem!reader

✦summary: Jeongin has it all, he’s a sweet millionaire man with a passion for photography, his only flaw has always been his family, obsessed with power and money, they force him to marry as if he was living in the past, but the only past he loves is you, an old crush that came back into his life as the most beautiful muse. Now he’s trapped, between a false love and a true one.

♡ genre - warnings: MDNI, angst, fluff, brief smut (sex w a lot of feelings): oral sex, fingering and piv, cheating ?, classism, mean jeongin but not to reader, forbidden lovers trope.

word count: 14.4k

╰ ⋆⭒˚.⋆ masterlist - taglist

request<3!

a/n: i feel inspired by jeongin, my bad if it's too long oops

It was like destiny. You never thought you would meet him again like that, the last time you had heard from him was in high school, your mother stopped working for them a couple of years ago so she doesn’t have as much news from the Yangs as she used to tell you, plus you were living with two other roomies and you were trying your best to visit her. But... it happened so strangely for you, the ad didn’t even have his name, it was a completely unknown one, Hwang Hyunjin, and you looked up his face on the internet but being so overwhelmed between the jobs you kept in the summer and the university, you completely forgot about it.

You looked at him as you entered the gallery, you couldn’t believe it, it was the same Yang Jeongin who you had been in love with for years, looking slightly more mature, wearing a suit, standing next to another young man who you’re sure is Hyunjin. They both looked up when they heard you enter, but only Jeongin’s gaze captivated you completely, he still had the sweet look he had as a child, nothing had changed, only his hair color was a coppery blond now and didn’t have braces anymore; his hair combined perfectly with his slightly tanned skin tone, highlighting his marked features, making him look manly and more attractive; he was no longer a child, he definitely grew up. You started to get nervous after coming out of your little trance, where you both looked so stunned and fascinated by each other, for Jeongin, it was like seeing a divine figure in life, you glowed, and you looked just as he remembered you from the last time he saw you, so beautiful and full of life.

Hyunjin had no idea what this was about, but it was obvious he noticed the intensity between the two of you, Jeongin saw you as if he had just seen his favorite painting for the first time, the question if you knew each other popped up in Hyunjin’s mind, but the most important one was, how do you know each other and why did you look like old lovers meeting again.

“Y/n...” whispered Jeongin, taking the surprise of his friend standing next to him.

Hyunjin blinked in puzzlement looking at Jeongin, as there was not even a need to introduce yourself, Hyunjin knew your name because you had signed up for his summer course as an assistant and apprentice photographer at his gallery, you had applied and were about to have your interview, Hyunjin was really fascinated with your work. He considered you a fresh artist with a unique vision.

Hyunjin was Jeongin’s lifelong best friend, but he didn’t know about you and his huge crush he had on you throughout his years of youth because... deep down, Jeongin was an extremely reserved man, besides Hyunjin was studying abroad all the time, he studied with Jeongin in elementary school and they met again until college, although Hyunjin was only one year older than him, but they were never separated even for a moment, they visited each other so often, and in his childhood, the Yangs hung out too much with the Hwangs. They still do, in a nice tradition.

Hyunjin was also surprised by the sudden change in his best friend’s countenance, his face was now shining, he could see the illusion reflected in his sharp eyes that he knew so well. He was shocked, a few moments ago he was so down and furious, shouting how overbearing and disgusted he felt at his family’s stupid decision to arrange a marriage for him... and then nothing, you showed up interrupting the conversation, just when Hyunjin was trying to process the information and reassuring him, saying softly, “Wow, slow down, Innie, what are you talking about?”

And you, you couldn’t help but smile as you heard him say your name. Your breath went out of you, it truly was very pleasing to see him again but... the impact was massive. Your Jeongin, who in fact was never yours beyond your pure imagination. He was so different from you, something so unattainable that you only sighed for, the one who taught you everything, even your greatest passion, like photography.

“Hello” you replied shyly and nervously, “it’s been a while.”

“A very while” Jeongin replied, almost breathless.

You were a considerable distance away from them, if you got any closer to him you think you would melt, more than when you were out there walking a few blocks in the intense summer sun to get all the way to Hyunjin’s gallery.

Both of your hearts pounded, every hair on their bodies bristled with emotion, the feelings never left, they only returned once you met again so unexpectedly. This time the feeling burned with more intensity, you were no longer children who used to play in his backyard.

“Ah, hello, I’m Y/n, I’m here for the interview...” you spoke, clearing your throat and breaking eye contact with Jeongin to see Hyunjin.

Hyunjin smiled amused, there wasn’t much to interview, in fact he was never that serious nor did he plan to be so hard on you, he was just like Jeongin, kind and down to earth despite growing up with all the riches and luxuries of life. But he liked you after seeing that you had the trust, and adoration, of his best friend.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Hwang Hyunjin and this is my gallery, my work area is a few blocks away, we’ll be passing from here to there.”

You raised your eyebrows, gripping your crossbody bag tightly and nervously, looking around the establishment, about to speak and compliment the place but then it dawned on you... he had spoken as if he was already taking you into account.

“Oh... it means that...”

“You’re in” he smiled at you.

Your face still reflected surprise but you were still grateful, you really were grateful, it was a decent job from which you’d learn more about what you actually study and do; and the pay was excellent.

“Can we start now? I’m having an exhibition this weekend and I need opinions” Hyunjin added, rounding his friend’s shoulder, amused to see that Jeongin couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You nodded. You had nothing better to do, than to finally start working. Hyunjin dressed more casual and relaxed than Jeongin... a part of you questioned why he was dressed so smartly, you wondered if he really continued his family’s legacy and company, but you hadn’t read any news of him being the official successor... maybe, after all, from their continuous complaints and dislikes, he forgave them and simply continued to work for them, or at least you thought so. You were not so aware of Jeongin, since years ago, since you treated him as a first love you had to let go, as an ex —you never had absolutely nothing— which you had to forget; besides, despite being handsome and rich, Jeongin was so private, he didn’t share much on social media and kept an impeccable image for the rest of the media, without even his parents asking him to, he really was like that, he never used his money for excesses and whims.

Hyunjin started walking, inviting the two of you to follow him, Jeongin waited for you, to line up with your step and see Hyunjin with his back to you leading you both.

“So... how do you two know each other?” Hyunjin asked amused, turning his head to look at you and then stopped his walking in front of a large white wall, with portraits leaning on the floor.

You were both surprised and saw Hyunjin’s expression waiting for an answer, he was quite interested to hear a good story of two lovers meeting, something new for Hyunjin since he didn’t know you and, during all his friend life, he only knew one girlfriend of Jeongin, whom he dated her since he was 13 and broke up with when he turned 18. And, as far as he knew, Jeongin has been single ever since... until now of course, when just today he angrily yelled at him “I’m getting married!” And it wasn’t at all a happy tone.

“Oh, she’s a childhood friend...” replied Jeongin.

You sighed, knowing that... that was indeed partly true, but the rest of it, somehow embarrassed you. For you, both Hyunjin and Jeongin, were two attractive men from a world very different from your own.

Hyunjin frowned innocently, crossing his arms and hunched his posture to get a closer look at your face, since he thought you were the daughter of someone close to the Yangs, your appearance and attire were so elegant that he naively believed you might be someone Jeongin studied with, took lessons in something as a child and he wanted to know...

“Really? I don’t remember your face? What did you say your last name is, again?” Hyunjin commented in confusion.

Your heart stopped for a moment... you weren’t the daughter of someone with money, you were the daughter of one of the Yang’s maids, who worked for them for long years, even before you and Jeongin were born.

“Ah, nothing like that, Hyunjin; she’s the daughter of one of my nanny’s when I was a kid, she used to come to my house and we used to play all the time” Jeongin answered again, so naturally and calmly, not meaning to say that your mother was a maid.

For Jeongin, your mother was more than a servant, she really raised him when his mother could never do it; as his mother was... a glamorous woman, more concerned about her status than her children, she was always busy with other unimportant matters, being a real high society woman. Jeongin had affection towards your mother, she made him a kind and tender child, in touch with humanity, and made him see the world with normal eyes, not in a privileged way as he lived from day one. Jeongin was only a year older than you, your mother was absent from work as soon as you were born and until you were 2 years old, she went back to work for them on a more irregular schedule and, when you turned five, she went back to a more fixed and continuous schedule so she could earn more money and, at that age, she found a way to sneak you in, putting you in the Yang’s house while she worked; that’s when you met Jeongin, a lonely rich kid who didn’t know the world and lived like a small adult, he had private tutors for everything, math, music, languages, fencing, karate... but he didn’t know the fun of being a kid, you taught him that.

“Ah, I see is that” Hyunjin commented a bit nervously, biting his lip at the thought that maybe he goofed a bit in deducing that you were someone from his same social class, “I think it’s very cute, that you know each other since you were kids.”

Hours passed, Jeongin didn’t want to leave and even less Hyunjin wanted him to, he still had so many questions once you could give them some privacy, still he continued, helping you to tell what your job was and the way you were going to work. So much time passed that it suddenly became night, so Hyunjin didn’t want to keep you any longer, plus he thought it was very likely that Jeongin would suggest you to take you all the way home.

All the information was also useful for Jeongin, who planned to have his own photography exhibition... but he was such a perfectionist that he didn’t know if he was one hundred percent pleased with his work, felt stuck and.... with the stunned news of his supposed marriage it upset him too much... but in all the haze of emotions you showed up again. Clearing it all.

You were more than nervous but you were trying to act like an adult and maintain your posture at Jeongin’s closeness.

“Mmm well, you can come from 10 a.m. and we’ll finish at 5; you’ll have your lunch break and... only when there’s exhibition I’ll need you most of the day, is that okay with you?" Hyunjin spoke, wanting to say goodbye gently so you could finally go home.

You nodded frantically with a smile. You were happy, relieved of something new and that you could finally quit all those little jobs that kept you stressed.

“Good. Nice to meet you, Y/n, see you tomorrow then” Hyunjin smiled at you.

You looked at Jeongin, about to say goodbye but he was quick to say:

“Aren’t you hungry? Let me take you to dinner.”

Your legs almost trembled; you didn’t know how to say no and.... you were seriously dying to spend some more time with Jeongin, you weren’t sure if it would be the last time you’d see him, like on your high school graduation night. It was obvious that you took another less prestigious and financially accessible university because of your parents, while Jeongin took it upon himself to study at the best university in the country. However, your mother, working for the Yangs, kept you in the same schools as Jeongin, from elementary to high school, since one of the good things that family did for you, besides allowing a nice friendship between you and Jeongin for years, was to keep you in that kind of education. Your mother thought it was too much to ask for the expenses of an expensive university so she did her best to get you into a good and decent institution as well.

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes looking at you two amused, he was also starving and wanted to accompany Jeongin to grab a bite but decided to leave his moments to you two alone.

“Okay” you replied with a soft smile.

“See you tomorrow, we have a lot to talk about, huh” Hyunjin said goodbye to his friend in a joking warning tone.

Hyunjin let out a chuckle and as soon as the two of you walked away and walked to the exit, he picked up his cell phone and texted his best friend in amusement:

Weren’t you about to get married? Watch out You’re still missing your bachelor party

The summer air was so hot, hitting your skin and, as you approached Jeongin’s luxurious car, you swallowed dryly nervously, wondering what the hell you were getting into. Jeongin opened the door for you and you sighed as you got inside, sitting in true leather seats, until you saw Jeongin also get in, you put their seat belts on and Jeongin looked at you happily one last time before starting the car, still processing the fact that... you had come back to him.

You felt slightly nervous, not knowing where he was going and insecure that you weren’t dressed for the occasion, he looked so good without trying, he was wearing his suit and he was a handsome man. You didn’t know how to feel clearly, but you were so sure of the warm feeling in your chest at having him close again.

“Mmm... what are you in the mood for?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Whatever you decide is fine with me.”

Jeongin didn’t respond to that, only spoke again, leaning his elbow on the armrest, bringing his long fingers up to his mouth, slightly awakening in you a spark of desire and tension as he looked so attractive.

“It’s been so long, what have you done? I want to hear from you”

You averted your gaze from him only to take courage and answer him.

“Oh, well, I still have my last year left in college, I’ll graduate until next summer.”

Jeongin released a soft chuckle.

“I see you went into photography, didn’t you?”he turned to look at you briefly.

You hummed in approval.

“I studied photography too, but I’m still thinking about which path to take exactly.”

“Oh, I see, it can be difficult but... you used to like fashion, film and creative director in general, didn’t you?

Jeongin licked his lips, his body was so warm from your presence and he smiled in satisfaction that you still knew him well and hadn’t forgotten his little details.

“Well, I still like all that and I’m in that dilemma... maybe you can help me find my way.”

His comment made a wave of heat travel to your cheeks, luckily the strong air conditioning was hitting your face and you couldn’t quite allow yourself to get hot.

You continued talking, about little things you used to do as kids, reminiscing all your memories and situations you spent together, between big smiles and shy glances; until Jeongin parked his car in the exclusive parking lot of the fancy restaurant-bar he frequents, of which one of his friends is the owner. You had a glimpse of the place and got nervous again, inwardly shouting that if you had known you’d come to such a place with Yang Jeongin, you’d have dressed much better for the occasion.

“The sushi here is the best, you’re going to love it” he commented, turning off the car and getting out so he could open for you.

He was such a gentleman and you smiled warmly knowing he still remembered your favorite food.

You couldn’t believe... this was your first kind of date with Jeongin. When you were young he used to take you all the time to decent, simple restaurants, trying traditional food since the Yangs had an exclusive diet and Jeongin was just dying to sneak out of school and go eat with you at a place where it looked like somewhere with homemade food, from a family, made with love. It used to be simple... now he’d take you to three star restaurants while you wore your slightly formal clothes since you were just waiting to have a job interview. But you couldn’t deny that it felt so good to walk alongside Jeongin, entering the place at the same time, as two men opened the doors for you, walking beside you, on a sort of date.

“So... do you have a boyfriend now?” he asked unexpectedly.

You shook your head quickly, still in surprise at his question.

“Good” he finished.

You and Jeongin approached with the receptionist, a tall, young woman monitoring each diner’s every entrance. You were dazzled by the elegance of the place and they were not yet fully inside, only in the foyer.

“Good night!” she greeted, “Do you have any reservations?”

“Mm, no. Yang Jeongin, table for two in a private room please.”

“Oh, welcome Mr. Yang” the girl corrected herself immediately, making an impression on you of the control and power that his name and image alone can have, “I’m afraid I don’t have any private rooms available” the woman informed, bringing one of her hands in a straight position near her mouth, saying softly like in a sign of something secret, “It’s Mr. Lee and his girlfriend’s anniversary.”

“Oh, really? Felix’s here? Mmm I see, I have to send them flowers,” Jeongin replied.

He quickly pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and typing quickly, of which you curiously saw his screen and realized that he texted someone saying:

Send flowers to Felix’s house for his anniversary with his gf

Jeongin’s attention returned to the woman.

“Amm and why didn’t Felix close the place today?”

The receptionist lifted her shoulders, “I think his girlfriend wanted it that way. Would you like some...?”

“Yes, please, do you have another table available?” he interrupted her.

“Sure, Mr. Yang! My coworker will guide you to your table, just a second” she spoke.

The woman approached another woman who was standing by waiting to guide people, the receptionist reminded her that he was a close friend of the owner and make sure to give him a good place and treat him lightly with specialty.

You followed the young girl until she took you to a very nice place, a little away from the people, close to the wall with perfect lighting. You were engrossed, you had never been in a place like this, not even on your birthdays where you spend your time looking for very good restaurants and partying around your 6 closest best friends; you never thought you’d get to a place like this. But you were with Jeongin, anything was possible with him.

“Thank you so much, Miss” Jeongin thanked politely as the woman left.

He came to your side, pulling out your chair, waiting for you to sit down. You did, and just as he was about to leave for the seat across from you, an old gentleman stopped Jeongin, shaking his hand and greeting him enthusiastically.

Jeongin smiled apologetically at him as he greeted him and suddenly, the old man mentioned a name that gave you chills.

“Congratulations on Nam Juhee; your grandfather told me the news, we’re all very excited!”

Nam Juhee. Jeongin’s first and only girlfriend, as far as you remember. She was... something else. The complete opposite of you. Why did he mention her all of a sudden?

“Ah, thank you, thank you” replied a chagrined Jeongin.

You subtly turned around, you noticed how the old man watched you for a few seconds, you didn’t know it, but he was judging both of you since he evidently found the future heir of the entire Yang dynasty with a woman who is not his future wife, and he thought he was an expert on the subject, believing the obvious, the temptations and slips of a relationship, so he whispered to Jeongin:

“I know you’re young and that can be very difficult... it’s hard to let go of other beauties, but you have to learn to be a strong man and be there for you one and only woman.”

The old man’s voice was rough and he spoke in a tone of a millionaire if that could exist, his sentence only left you more confused. You didn’t know that either, but Jeongin was full of fury to hear that his grandfather was spreading the rumor that he was going to marry Nam Juhee.

Jeongin sat across from you, softening his countenance when he saw you and trying to forget about the Juhee matter, it was something he would solve later, he was there now, with you. But you couldn’t put your curiosity aside, you hadn’t seen him in years, you didn’t know him as well as you used to, so you asked him:

“Why did he congratulate you... for Nam Juhee?”

Jeongin opened his eyes in surprise.

“Ah, it’s nothing. He’s an old guy, he surely didn’t know what he was talking about and I out of politeness just played along.”

You recognized his nonchalant tone, he was lying, you knew it, Jeongin was a bad liar. It was obvious something was up, he mentioned Jeongin’s grandfather and said something very strange... you wondered if it was possible Jeongin was back with Juhee after so long, you just knew they broke up before graduating from high school. You wanted to put it aside and enjoy your moment, however you still asked:

“What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

Jeongin raised his gaze from the menu, staring at you and gently denying with an adorable smile from his big lips forming dimples on his cheeks. God, you adored him, wondered why you never tried anything with him and then remembered her name, Nam Juhee, he was always hers.

But now that he didn’t have a girlfriend and you were both adults making decisions of your own... you wondered if it was possible to make Jeongin fall in love with you.

The horrible news was, that you had no idea that Jeongin was an adult without his own decisions, and for the Yangs he was no longer single.

You both ordered and talked again, so comfortable with each other that Jeongin came to think how stupid he was to never confess his true feelings to you, and even more stupid not to look for you all this time.

Jeongin’s life was sweet as vanilla because you were in it. He had everything and he was a great man, everything he wants he got, except for you. But ever since you walked away from him… his life was missing something and everything got worse when he found out about a useless proposal, but when he saw you, everything seemed sweet again.

Both were fascinated to meet again, you were about to leave the table when Jeongin felt another warm hand on his shoulder, he looked up, meeting his friend Felix and his girlfriend, greeting them both with a smile.

“Oh, hey, Y/n, nice to see you again” Felix greeted you.

He always has been a Jeongin’s close friend and you studied in the same schools. You greeted him as well as his girlfriend.

“Can you please explain to me what crazy thing is going on in the Yang's house now?” exploded Felix unexpectedly.

“Oh, you heard it too?” replied Jeongin chagrined.

Felix saw your confused expression and realized that it was not the right time to talk about Jeongin’s hasty marriage rumor.

“Anyway, we have to go, I hope you enjoyed the dinner” Felix hurried to say, with a slightly embarrassed smile, grabbing his girlfriend’s waist and leaving the place.

Jeongin sighed at how simple and affectionate Felix was with his girlfriend, a man 100% free to choose who to be with; he thought about the difference of both families, the Lee’s were free and kind while the Yang’s were incredibly stupid and conservative.

You both left the place after he paid, you waiting behind him with your pink cheeks of embarrassment as he finished up. Jeongin didn’t want to let you go but... he also didn’t want you to take it so rashly that he suddenly invited you to his apartment, you knew he wasn’t that kind of man and you trusted him, a part of you wished he would take the big step and actually invite you over, but you saw him struggle as he wanted to act sensibly. You found him tender.

“Well... I guess you must be tired, you have to work with Hyunjin tomorrow. I’ll drive you home” he warned.

You were so excited. You were living again in your fantasy of a world where only he and you existed... but for some strange reason, the vibe was different, it was still the same innocent feeling but this time you could add something slightly fiery. You had never lusted after Jeongin like that, but realizing he matured so well, you kept fantasizing from time to time about his pronounced jawline that looked so good on him and his long fingers with big hands. He was all man.

You gave him directions to your apartment building. He interrupted you just as you were about to thank him. It was something he came up with, this time he wanted you around, he wanted to make things right. He wanted you like he always did.

“Y/n, you know, I’m about to start my gallery too, but I think I need some help, with the pictures and stuff, mmm would you like to join me after you’re done with Hyunjin?”

You smiled broadly, biting your inner lip trying to contain your joy, he was looking for a way to see you.

“Sure, Innie.”

“If you want me to pay you…”

“I’m fine like that,” you interrupted him, “You, me and your camera just like old times.”

Jeongin smiled broadly, as sincere as he had ever been in a long time.

“Your number is still the same?”

You nodded. Jeongin blushed as he learned that it was only enough to talk to you again to see you again.

“Thank you, Jeongin, it was really nice to see you again.”

And you got out of his car, your heart racing pounding in your chest, so in love with Yang Jeongin again.

[...]

But Jeongin, who drove with a smile all the way to his apartment, came back to reality as he took off his shoes at the entrance of his home and went to sit on his couch, picking up his cell phone and reading Hyunjin’s messages, joking about his tense situation.

Jeongin sighed in frustration as he remembered the morning, his grandfather summoning him to the Yang mansion in his office. Jeongin was sweet and despite being a strange family, it was still his family and he had a soft spot for each of them. So he agreed to go, and his grandfather said everything tactlessly, reminded him that he was already old and his heart wouldn’t hold out long enough and that his wish was to leave Jeongin his legacy, confessing to him that he was always to him like a perfect son, when in reality he was a grandson. He confessed to him that he did not trust Jeongin’s father to leave him everything and that he trusted Jeongin, that he knew absolutely everything and it was true, he spent a lot of time of his life together with his grandfather and made him in a way an old spirit soul, his form of affection was not typical or affectionate, but the love was there.

And then he told him something that Jeongin initially took it lightly, almost as a joke, that also one of his last wishes was to see him married. Grandpa Yang was old and conservative and saw marriage as sacred and another life achievement, still mourning his dead wife for 15 years. The difference was that he did love his wife before he married her.

Jeongin was even tender at first and was about to leave his office trying to reassure him and play along by telling him that he was going to get married soon, but he suddenly says:

“That’s why you are going to marry Nam Juhee.”

Jeongin laughed in disbelief but his grandfather’s expression was serious.

“What?” replied Jeongin.

“You are going to marry Nam Juhee, you’re going to do in a couple of weeks, the ceremony will be held at Deung Jaesang field in the afternoon. Of course you’ll get married in the church. Everything is book, the Nam are more than agreed.”

Jeongin still couldn’t believe it. There was no point in an arranged marriage living in these times. He didn’t even love Juhee, at least not anymore.

He then understood the reason why Juhee was showing up more often at the family gatherings Jeongin was obligated to attend and running into her at every event organized by the Yangs or the company.

His grandfather ended up saying a “I am serious and I hope you are prepared; you can live in the house in the hills or if you prefer an apartment it’s fine, but if you consider having children, the house is the best option.”

Jeongin’s world spun and he almost felt nauseous.

“W-what are you talking about? Nobody here is getting married? I’m not getting married! You better stop with your nonsense.”

Jeongin tried to restrain himself from exploding into a myriad of things to still keep respect for his elder.

“Jeongin, there’s nothing to negotiate, you must do it or-”

“Or what?” he challenged him in annoyance.

“Or forget about what you have. I want it to be that way, end of conversation, what’s wrong? You know Juhee, you used to get along.”

“Are you listening to yourself grandpa? Keep everything, give it to Jeonsik, I don’t care.”

Jeongin knew his grandfather’s seriousness so he just walked out of his home without saying more, his mother tried to stop him but he didn’t listen, he stormed out to tell Hyunjin, trying to process what the fuck he had heard.

He sighed, thinking that he also would take his strike very seriously and from tomorrow he would not show up at the company, instead gathered Hyunjin in the morning so they could talk.

[...]

9:30 in the morning, Jeongin’s younger brother was flooding him with text messages, asking for an explanation of what was going on at home and why everyone was acting strange. Jeongin ignored him and just continued to get ready to meet Hyunjin, but the sound of his door being knocked on completely confused him, he hadn’t been warned that someone was coming into his hallway, so he quickly checked the security cameras outside his door to find his ex-girlfriend standing there.

Jeongin cursed internally and tried not to make noise, showing that he wasn’t home, but the thunderous ringing of his phone indicating a call from her rang; he had no choice but to open it for her, totally indisposed to see her just now.

“Jeongin” she said in surprise, seeing him with only a robe on.

“Juhee, who let you in? I’m gonna fire them” Jeongin replied in annoyance, avoiding looking at her.

“Jeongin, please, I need to talk-”

“About what? You knew about that whole circus? You better stop it with me...”

Jeongin finally looked at her, her eyes were shining and seemed to be asking for forgiveness but he was not moved by an inch of her.

“I don’t want to” she replied firmly interrupting him.

He looked at her incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

“You want to go along with this lie, you really want to marry me? What fantasy are you living in, Juhee?”

“That’s why I was coming to talk to you, to convince you how it can benefit us...”

“I’d rather you to not talk and don’t come looking for me again unless it’s to help me stop such stupidity. I am never going to marry you. Now go.”

Jeongin slammed the door in his face and his body filled with rage again, his blood became heavy, he had never been so angry in his life, but for the moment his plan was to not take the whole fake wedding thing seriously and he would let his whole family go on with their charade while he would continue to live his life, he’d deny everything with the media, call them crazy for attention if necessary, but he wasn’t going to marry someone he didn’t love and certainly not for convenience or a stupid family affair.

Jeongin truly was a romantic. He believed in love because his whole life he lived full of it thanks to you, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

The reason why he dated Juhee for so many years was because, before he fell madly in love with you, he couldn’t distinguish between true platonic love or a tender and innocent love like almost siblings’, all his childhood he had so much affection and respect for you and when his pubertal body started to notice changes, Juhee appeared, he knew then that something with her could be that kind of love, from thirteen to fifteen he was madly in love with Juhee, she was everything to him but then it became boring for him, almost as if he was just used to her and, at sixteen all the Yang’s believed their romance was so serious, beyond a childish thing and seeing the incredible benefits it would be to unite such young people forever, at that age he was more naive and docile, very easy to manipulate, if he saw the people close to him happy, he believed he was obligated to feel happy too, but it was not so, at sixteen he knew he could love you differently. Jeongin realized it when you had your first boyfriend and he died of jealousy when he saw you together.

You on the other hand, started dating other guys since you really believed you could never have Jeongin loving you the way you wanted so you just tried to fill the void, but you didn’t last too long with them, after all they were still spoiled rich kids and none of them were sweet like Jeongin was, most of the time they left when they found out about your life, humiliated you and treated you with pity; you had enough of them and in the end you walked away from that glitzy and glamorous world you thought you never belonged to, once you entered college.

[...]

On your first day at work you did your best to look prettier, this time you really put more effort into your appearance knowing that at any moment you could see Jeongin.

All night you waited for a message from him, but it never came, you felt slightly disappointed, like the first time you were estranged, when nothing from him ever came into your life again... but being so close to Hyunjin, who Jeongin himself claimed to be his closest friend, you were hoping to feel close to him too.

Hyunjin was with you for an hour and then advised that he had to leave for a moment and it wasn’t until the afternoon when he returned while you were with his assistant going over every detail of the weekend’s event. The footsteps of his characteristic Hyunjin’s chelsea boots touching the floor followed by a:

“Can I stay here to copy everything you do and do it in my gallery?”

From a very pleasantly familiar voice. You looked up to find Jeongin. He was dressed more comfortably, in jeans, boots and a thin sweater loose to his body.

Jeongin had spent the morning with Hyunjin, he explained everything he knew so far. And they both looked confused at the situation and then Hyunjin asked about you, to which Jeongin couldn’t quite explain what you were to him, after so many years.

Jeongin spent the rest of your shift with Hyunjin but he was only paying attention to you, giving you complicit glances and smiling at you, approaching you for gentle conversation and just as the clock struck five and Hyunjin was saying goodbye to you, Jeongin hurried to say:

“I’m leaving too, goodbye.”

This time Hyunjin looked at him proudly, like a father watching his son leave for a date.

“You look nice,” Jeongin complimented you, opening his car door for you to get in.

Your face turned warm; he drove to his gallery establishment, you were impressed, of course, it was a more popular and glamorous place; unlike Hyunjin’s location, which was more artsy and bohemian.

You both walked in and while you admired the place, Jeongin admired you, he felt so good to have all his feelings afloat, love was such a mysterious and unexplainable feeling but always enjoyable for him. It felt so good to be with you; you gave color to his gray and monotonous life at least for a few very long years, he came to the conclusion that in that gap where you didn’t see each other, he did come to need you; something was missing, he didn’t know what it was, until he saw your smile again.

“Woah, well, the place and location are great to start” you spoke, turning to look at Jeongin.

You were surprised, he was smiling and his gaze was so soft on you. You had never seen him like that and it gave you some delicious chills, you liked the way he looked at you. Jeongin was on cloud nine, he felt for a second when two lovers looked for their own place to build a home. His chest became warm, that’s what you were to him, a home where he always felt safe. You’ve seen him cry, get angry, laugh, grow up… and he did the same for you. Jeongin had overthought the situation and felt bad that maybe you must have felt empty as he walked away from you.

“So far this is my job” he mentioned softly, still lost in you and half oriented.

Jeongin showed you a thick photo album and pulled out his laptop to continue looking at his work. You were impressed, he always has been an excellent artist and you admired him too much since he was a kid, he was kind of weird and loved the detail of things, he discovered an old camera from his grandfather when he was ten and from there he found a passion.

“And you’ve never had your own exhibition? This is very good, Jeongin” you smiled at him.

“Thank you, but, I feel like it doesn’t have enough of a match to put them all together. I want a specific theme to exhibit and I can’t find inspiration, also, if I decide on something I like, I have to teach myself how to photograph people.”

“I think you’ll do great. Do you have something already in mind?”

You looked at him and went back to watching his work with fascination, he had already worked with luxury brands like Alexander McQueen, and you didn’t understand why Jeongin always demanded more of himself. You knew that feeling stagnant was a very low blow for him and you wanted to help him however you could.

Jeongin closed his album slightly, brushing against your hand and you looked up instantly.

“Sure. Maybe if I start photographing you again I can gain more confidence” he mentioned seriously, staring into your eyes.

“Me?” you replied with a teasing chuckle, nervous and not knowing how to react.

Jeongin nodded with a small smile, “The concept can turn to you; I’d style you, it’d be fun. Since the place doesn’t have anything yet, we can use it in the meantime as a studio.”

You were hot with embarrassment, the proposal flew out of your mind. But you said.

“Okay.”

“Can I take your measurements so I have the perfect outfit for you?”

Your heart flipped. The rest of your time together, finally Jeongin put shyness aside and started flirting with you, in his own way; he looked so cute that anything from him worked on you. And then, the proposal that was new much to your heart, meeting his apartment.

Destiny was something you didn’t think too much about… but knowing him for so many years, spending time apart and meeting again, made it feel for you so special.

“Finally we can drink without having to hide” Jeongin laughed, passing you a glass of wine.

You admired the spacious place, with an amazing view of the city… you thought of the long, lonely nights your old friend must spend and wished you had enough guts to tell him that it shouldn’t be like that now for him, since he had you, and you always wanted to be his.

“And when did you move?”

“To this place, two years ago, but I left the house as soon as I entered college; god and you only know how much I begged to get out of that madhouse.”

You laughed softly, making yourself comfortable on the soft couch in her spacious living room. Jeongin sat across from you, you felt more comfortable and less pitiful, after all, you used to feel so good next to him.

“And you since when do you live in the building?”

Jeongin just wanted to hear you talk… the words wouldn’t form properly but he really wanted to be with you. If nothing came to his mind, the next thing would be to suggest listening to music or watching a movie.

“Oh, since I started college.”

He stared at you and was lost in you, he thought about how cute you looked with your arm pressed into his couch, and your body turned in his direction so you could better see each other face to face, he was dumbfounded, by the image of your face with his lit up, beige apartment in the background he began to speak, totally aware of what he was saying, but at the same time in a soft, gone tone.

“Sorry for not calling you back…”

Jeongin’s lips were slightly parted and his big eyes were shining; you didn’t think you needed to hear that, until he said it.

A strand of your loose hair fell gracefully towards your face, Jeongin quickly brought his hand up to it and brushed it away putting it behind your ear.

“Were you?” he said again so you looked at him confused, “Were you waiting for my call?”

That gave you chills and you felt the distance of both bodies shorten little by little.

“Were you waiting for me to pick up right away?” you teased softly, tilting your head, an act that Jeongin found adorable.

“I’ve been always waiting for you…”

His thick voice and sincerity upset everything inside you, you knew an incredible tension was building in the place and you were dying for him to be able to calm down, until he said:

“I always wanted to kiss you.”

You smiled. You had nothing to lose now, the two of you didn’t have a partner and you had always dreamed of the feel of Jeongin’s lips with yours.

“You can do it now.”

It took Jeongin years to clear his feelings for you so he could see you again; but less than two days to finally say it all bit by bit without any strings attached, at least not for now.

He approached you, took your wine glass and his to put them on the small table in front of his couch, this time completely close to you, his big hand took your face and finally you kissed. Jeongin started nimbly on you, his lips felt so expert and soft that you tried to keep up with him successfully.

“You can always kiss me, now” you whispered between kisses to which he smiled.

Jeongin took advantage and made it more intense now, his lips were soft but his action was heavy, retaliating for every year of his teenage years where he adored you, he was finally there, with you.

Your night ended in some not-so-innocent kisses, his make-out was so hot that you couldn’t help but feel aroused, you were a woman being touched from the deepest part of your soul, where you will always have a place for Jeongin, but you both decided to stop and he only went to drop you off at your place, telling you very happily that he would see you tomorrow.

[…]

And your story was rewritten the next day when Jeongin picked you up after your work. Hyunjin could only see his best friend’s car outside his gallery and you getting in every day as soon as the clock struck 5.

It was your favorite time of the day, playing the lively little muse of Jeongin, who treated you like a princess and a doll. You would walk into his gallery which for the moment you treated as a studio, Jeongin would bring you amazing designer pieces that he loved for you to model, he would bring you professional makeup artists playing to perfection with your face and you would live in a glamorous world between the cameras flashes.

But your favorite part was when he would come up to you and sweetly shower you with kisses. When the pictures were over, he could kiss you freely as you no longer made use of your makeup, he would grab your waist and share such an affectionate and intimate act with you, then he’d take you out to dinner to different places, as he was terrible at cooking, but one night you offered to cook, living your little romantic dream, while he hugged you from behind and touched you the way he never did, giving you little caresses and getting too close to you.

You both lived carefree, in love, your chests puffing out with pride at finally being able to show your love and have each other. Jeongin was more than ready to ask you to be his girlfriend, he had never fallen in love again, it was as if his heart and mind were always waiting to be healed by you, waiting for your return, his whole world and worries were gone every time you were together, he didn’t want to be away from you. At the same time, he was in a dilemma, if it was too fast to formalize… or if it was exactly the perfect time and you couldn’t wait, as long enough time had passed.

There was no doubt that his feelings were so intense, worthy of being called love. He noticed it, as he lowered his camera from his face and saw you there, doing nothing, preparing a pose, acting awkwardly giving your best; you were to him as dazzling as ten rays of sunshine put together, your personality was beautiful and hadn’t changed a single day since he first met you, he wanted to hug you and never let you go.

And the matter of his fake wedding, it didn’t even exist for him, Jeongin hadn’t heard anything since then, so it wasn’t something he cared about, yet his whole family was acting behind his back, planned in the perfect event and wedding of the year without him knowing anything. There were all the invitees ready, Juhee had her dress, her ring. The last step was to go public, so that even Jeongin would get engaged.

The day of Hyunjin’s exhibition came, you were all the time busy there, a little stressed as you received each guest, until the weight left your shoulders as you saw Jeongin walk in dressed elegantly in a suit, looking so handsome. You smiled at him.

“Excuse me sir, I’m afraid you’re not on the list. Kiss me and maybe I’ll consider you may coming in” you joked with him.

Jeongin played with his coat button and leaned in to give you a quick kiss, causing both of you to explode in warm excitement and, a few seniors to burst into uproar, as the rumor of the wedding between Yang Jeongin and Nam Juhee was well known.

“You look beautiful tonight” Jeongin whispered in your ear.

“Thank you, someone special bought me the dress.”

You were somewhat modest to accept Jeongin’s luxurious and expensive gifts; but all your friends exploded when they saw the kind of gifts he gave you, designer clothes, jewelry, handbags, they encouraged you to receive them and staying with the handsome rich man you tenderly knew since you were little, it was like an unreal fairy tale.

“Will you be here all night?” he asked you.

“Oh no, just until most of them arrive and then another girl will cover for me and I can enjoy the event.”

Jeongin pursed his lips tenderly, “Okay, I’ll wait for you over there with Hyunjin.”

Everything was going well, until your heart burst in surprise at the sight of the woman of your nightmares. Nam Juhee. She looked so beautiful that you even had to avert your gaze, as if seeing her might disrespect her.

She was incredibly millionaire, naturally beautiful without the need for any surgery unlike most of all your former high school classmates who at some point touched the scalpel. She wore a nice black designer dress, a slim diamond necklace sliding down her slender chest and collarbones, looking like a superstar with her perfect image.

She had it all, but she wasn’t on Hwang Hyunjin’s guest list.

She was about to enter, but you stopped her.

“Nam Juhee” you whispered still surprised, catching her attention.

She looked at you in confusion.

“I’m afraid you’re not on the list…” you added.

She drew a half smile on her face, looking at you slightly with her frowns thinking if she knew you from somewhere since you looked familiar.

“I’m not on the list but do really you know my name” she replied amused.

You were about to speak, but Hyunjin’s voice interrupts you, appearing beside you.

“Nam Juhee, what are you doing here?”

“I have to accompany my future husband from now on to everything he does.”

Juhee had a proud expression that Hyunjin almost wanted to laugh in her face except that you were right next to him… and Hyunjin knew you didn’t know about the fake Jeongin wedding thing, so it wasn’t his place to overload you with that information, of something he was sure his friend was going to stop.

“Mmm, Y/n, I’ll take care of the guests now, thank you very much, you can go enjoy the event” Hyunjin spoke to you kindly, taking the iPad from your hands.

“But-” you tried to intervene.

You were confused at the situation since Hyunjin was supposed to be the main attraction and should be at his event getting all the compliments possible. And also slightly confused by Juhee’s husband’s comment.

“Please go” he smiled at you.

You walked away confused, still seeing them and noticed the slight astonishment on Juhee’s face, asking Hyunjin dumbfounded if you were the Y/n she knew.

You ran into Jeongin, who happily grabbed you by the waist and whispered a sweet, “Mm, you’re here.”

Hyunjin didn't want to make a fuss by denying her entrance in front of everyone, so he let Juhee in and immediately called to Jeongin, who confusedly turned away from you to see that it was Hyunjin calling him, he took the call and before he could speak, his friend did:

“Juhee is here and I guess Y/n still doesn’t know about the fake wedding.”

He upon hearing the words fake wedding, moved a little further away from you, with a nervous smile and turning his body so you couldn’t see or hear.

“What are you talking about? That’s not going to happen.”

“Yeah but imagine Juhee telling her all of a sudden, you need to explain it to her, bro. And stop the stupid rumors as soon as possible.”

“What can I do?” muttered Jeongin.

“I don’t know, hide from Juhee or get Y/n out of here. I told Juhee you weren’t here.”

Jeongin turned back to you, with a slightly worried expression to which you brought your hand to his cheek looking at him with concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, nothing. Shall we watch the exhibition?”

You knew he was lying and noticed that he didn’t look as good as he did a few seconds ago. Jeongin wanted to take you by the hand to start walking, but you stopped him.

“I already know every picture in here anyway, do you want to go get some fresh air? I have to tell Hyu-”

“He’s fine with that, I’ll let him know, grab your stuff and let’s go outside.”

You blinked at how quickly he responded, you felt worried about him since you knew something was up. And as soon as you grabbed your stuff, you were both already outside near where he parked his car.

You moved closer to him, drawing your body to him and holding his soft face again. You thought about how you hadn’t mentioned Juhee because you didn’t want to get upset but he was the one who seemed upset; you wanted to say things like hey, did you know Nam Juhee is getting married? but you thought certain things from the past weren’t worth bringing up.

Jeongin hugged you, you looked at his face closely and in detail and your mouth had to abruptly drop:

“You never told me why you broke up with Juhee.”

Jeongin sighed and lowered his gaze to stare into your eyes. It was time to speak from the heart.

“Because I didn’t love her. I could never love her like I love you.”

His lips twitched, as did every inch of your insides at the shocking news. That meant so many things that you slid your hands from his face to his shoulders.

“I love you” Jeongin confessed, “I don’t care if it’s too soon or too late, I waited too long and I’m here now and I want you to know that I love you, I always have.”

You floated for a few moments, your heart beating intensely but slowly, almost trying to burst out of your chest so it could caress Jeongin.

“Jeongin… you know what, I’ve always loved you too. I still do.”

You looked at him, not blinking for a second treasuring every moment of him with your eyes wide and bright. Jeongin smiled.

“You should date,” he spoke innocently, between giggles and holding you tighter, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

You widened your smile, you felt small again, young, being asked by your ultimate crush, but it was more than that, it was a love so intense you couldn’t leave.

You nodded, “Yes” you kissed him quickly, “What day is today?”

“August tenth” Jeongin replied.

You smiled warmly at him and rejoined your lips in a long kiss, there was no more worry just now, just the two of you after finally being able to tell each other that you loved each other under the moonlight. It was cheesy, but so cute that Jeongin’s chest exploded in excitement.

“Mm, do you want to sleep in my apartment?” he whispered between your lips and before you could create a sizzling scenario he spoke again, “Just to rest and sleep.”

You laughed softly, “Okay.”

You let your friends and roommates know that you were going to stay over with Jeongin tonight, clarifying that just to sleep. And amidst laughter and a very sweet Jeongin holding your hand as he drove, you made it all the way to his apartment.

“Mmm, I must have something for you to sleep comfortably” Jeongin said, looking for clothes for you.

Until he finally pulled out one of his oversize shirts and a pair of cloth pajama pants. You changed in his room after he left to give you privacy and pulled the pajama drawstring so you could tie it to your body, even so both garments were still too big for you.

Jeongin came in, finding you adorable in his clothes. He put on his pajamas, comfortable shirt and also a pair of thin cloth pants. You removed your makeup and finally approached Jeongin’s bed a little shyly where he was already lying down.

“Come here” he said to you, in such a manly voice that it almost made you shiver.

Once you lay down next to him, he picked you up and pulled you closer to him, hugging you and making you lean your chin on his chest.

“You’re adorable,” he said again, smiling with dimples in his cheeks.

He kissed you slowly, caressing your entire back and never taking his lips off you. Your body was slightly over his, you brought one of your bent legs up on him and the innocent kisses became more and more passionate. You were both starting to get aroused and panting, so shyly you both stopped right there. And you slept peacefully on his chest.

The next morning you were both awakened by the sound of Jeongin’s ringtone, he had already heard a myriad of notification sounds and ignored them, until a call managed to wake you up. Still asleep, Jeongin took his cell phone from his nightstand and turned to look at you happily, you were stirring in your spot on the bed, stretching your body and opening your eyes in such an angelic way for him.

“Good morning” Jeongin whispered in a husky voice to which you just smiled.

Jeongin knew it was early because of the light in his window and at last he saw that it was Hyunjin who was bothering him so early on a Sunday. Jeongin answered, still carving his eyes and yawning.

“Jeongin tell me you already explained to Y/n, you’re all over the fucking news with the weeding thing!!!” Hyunjin exclaimed from the other end of the line.

Jeongin abruptly sat up with his eyes wide as saucers, slightly alerting you to his violent movement.

“No! What?!”

Jeongin’s scream startled you, making you wake up completely, he sounded really terrified. Jeongin stood up completely from the bed to walk to his window.

“Dude, fix this now. I’ll be there for you for anything! Let me know everything!”

Hyunjin hung up the call and Jeongin realized the myriad of messages he had, from close friends completely confused, to complete strangers congratulating him. His assistant had flooded him with messages from luxury brands asking to dress him up and Jeongin sighed at the thought that congratulatory flowers would soon be knocking on his door.

“What’s wrong, Innie?” you spoke.

“Nothing, nothing, it was Hyunjin.”

You knew again that he was lying, his nervous countenance and smile were so easy to read. You also looked for your cell phone but realized you must have left it in your bag that was surely in Jeongin’s living room.

“Ugh, I left my phone in my bag” you suddenly said to which Jeongin couldn’t have been more relieved.

He crawled into the bed to get close to you. Faking a smile, he brushed his nose with yours and said:

“Let’s go have breakfast, shall we?”

You nodded happily, saying you’d like to go to the bathroom first and he warned he’d be in the kitchen waiting for you.

“Mm, pancakes, eggs? Or would you like to order something? Do you want to go to your apartment for more comfortable clothes?” he asked you, once he saw you walking towards him while he had his palms resting on the kitchen island.

“Mmm I’m not that hungry, do you want anything?”

“Coffee is fine with me.”

You were about to approach him but remembered your cell phone in your bag to which you changed direction, excusing yourself with a nervous smile and hurrying to his living room so you could grab your phone. Jeongin stood confused, waiting for you.

You and your obsession with checking your cell phone in the mornings upon waking up was perhaps your big mistake that particular morning. You had many text messages from your friends, alerting you, you thought something important had happened so you quickly entered the first group chat with over 100 messages. Your heart stopped, one of your friends sent a screenshot of a news: The most coveted young millionaire is about to get married: Yang Jeongin and Nam Juhee, heiress of Nam Group.

You scrolled down the screen with fear, eyes wide open as you saw pictures of the two of them, old high school pictures calling them a true and preserved love, articles telling you everything you should know about the wedding of the year, and your worried friends texting you:

is this the yang jeongin you’re talking to? at first I thought it was a joke but even the nam came out to confirm it y/n please tell us it’s not true!!! how are you?

It hurt you because they knew how much you loved Jeongin. You suddenly became a zombie absorbed by the news, searching for yourself every single article on the internet, filling yourself with information you didn’t want to read. Pictures of Juhee picking out a dress and showing off her ring, saying how much she loves Jeongin and that they both wanted to do it as soon as possible. You thought it was ridiculous you almost laughed, it felt unreal you also almost thought it was a nightmare and you hadn’t woken up yet.

Jeongin thought you took too long, so he went to check on you.

“Y/n…” he called your name softly, to find you leaning back on one of his couches, your eyes glued to your cell phone screen.

Fuck. He thought over and over again. He called your name again and you felt it like a distant voice.

You looked up, meeting the worried face of your barely boyfriend, who was walking towards you. Your face reflected nothing, your lips were sealed and only your eyes reflected disappointment and astonishment, causing Jeongin a pain in his chest to see you in a way you had never seen him before.

“You’re getting married?”

Was all you could say, wanting an explanation, but so skeptical of everything at this point.

“No, please, that’s all fake, it’s all nonsense…”

“And when were you going to tell me? Only to you I’m your girlfriend but to the rest of the world you’re Nam Juhee’s fiancé?!” you snapped.

“Y/n, please” he begged, trying to touch your arms, thinking what exactly to say.

You dodged his touch and turned away from him.

“It’s a fake wedding!”

“So you gonna marry her?!”

You didn’t want to listen anymore, you thought you knew Jeongin but he wasn’t who you thought he was after all, you thought. He was lying and saying nothing was going on, he was confessing to you that he loved you, you didn’t know if that was true after all either. You angrily made your way to his room, without thinking clearly you started to undress so you could put your dress back on.

“Y/n…” Jeongin went after you, but turned around when he noticed you were undressing, “Let me explain, it was something stupid my grandfather proposed and I flatly refused, I really did; but the damn old fuck wouldn’t listen to me and continued with his crazy game, I’m seriously sorry, please listen to me. I’m not getting married, I’ll come out and say it’s all a lie.”

You didn’t listen to him, you were struggling to put on your dress as fast as you could until you succeeded and quickly walked out, past him. Jeongin chased you back to his doorway where you were putting on your shoes. You ignored him until he stopped his door handle with his big hand, blocking your way.

“Y/n, please listen to me” he said again in a pleading tone.

You saw him furious, he looked agitated as if he had been exercising, his mouth was dry, he was terrified of losing you.

“It’s fake, it’s not gonna happen. I love you.”

His tone of voice was sincere but you were so blinded in anger that you put your hand over his on his doorknob.

“Talk to me when you clear it up. Let me out” you replied coldly.

Jeongin let you out, he followed after you, waiting for the elevator to open.

“I hope you can please try to understand me” he said again.

As the elevator opened, it revealed itself to be Juhee inside walking up to Jeongin’s hallway along with a tall stout guy wearing black with a thuggish look. You and Jeongin watched them with surprise and disappointment, it all looked comical, he told you it was fake but suddenly his future wife appeared in the elevator to his apartment, it was ridiculous.

Jeongin sighed in frustration as her showing up didn’t help him at all. Juhee looked at you in surprise, thinking the obvious, you had spent the night with Jeongin, but judging by your expressions, the two of you didn’t look happy and it was something she was afraid of, Jeongin coming back to you.

You hopped in as soon as they left and averted your gaze from Jeongin until the doors closed; frustrated, wanting to run all the way home.

“Who the fuck let you back in?” spat Jeongin.

“That was Y/N, are you with her?” Juhee hastened to say, raising her eyebrows in concern.

“What do you care, oh my god” Jeongin rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“We need to talk right now, please” Juhee begged, following Jeongin who was walking back to his apartment, ignoring her.

Jeongin was about to grab his stuff and go after you as soon as possible.

“What the fuck..?” he said annoyed as he felt the big guy stopped him from closing his door so Juhee could enter uninvited.

“I know you’ve been seeing Y/n, everyone knows, your family has been watching you and…” Jeongin watched her say, with distaste on his face, Juhee turned to the guy, “Can you give us privacy please? Thank you.”

The thug walked out of Jeongin’s apartment just as she instructed, closing the door behind him.

“Good dog,” Jeongin joked.

Jeongin was so annoyed by the fact that she was coming towards him talking about who he should be with as if she was entitled, one of the reasons he broke up with her besides the fact that he was betraying his heart himself, was because Juhee slept with one of his teachers.

“Jeongin, they are watching you and if you don’t go through with the wedding thing they are capable of… hurt Y/n.”

He sighed, frowned his face in annoyance and touching his forehead, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Junhee pulled out an iPad, showing pictures of each of your encounters with Jeongin, having dinner, going into his studio, taking you home; he didn't know how to react so once again he didn't take it seriously, except for the part where she mention hurting you, and it did scare him a little that you were being spied on.

“Are you spying on us or…?”

“Jeongin I’m serious, I think you’re aware of what your own family can do if you don’t listen to them.”

That sentence made his blood run cold, she was so right, but he didn’t want to see it clearly. His family could be a monster at times, but to such a degree of going so far as to hurt you? Jeongin didn’t know what to expect from the Yangs anymore.

“And what the fuck are they planning to do? I won’t let them hurt Y/n and I can’t marry you and fulfill their stupid whim either. I will never fucking marry you, Nam Juhee!” Jeongin burst out, it was being too much information and feelings in such a short time.

“You can just pretend!”

“Pretend what? Be a perfect husband for you? What the fuck is wrong with everyone? This isn’t the last fucking century to arrange a marriage.”

“Jeongin this is for real, did you see the fucking guy outside? He’s a fucking hitman your family hired to give me the details of your affair with Y/n, waiting for me to snap so I can send him to hurt her, putting all the blame on me!”

“What?” he said incredulously, ”Affair? Mine with her is not an affair, you and I are nothing, don’t talk about her like that.”

“Jeongin if you don’t get married… Fuck, you don’t know but your grandfather has some kind of terminal illness and arranged everything for this wedding. Do whatever you want with Y/n, I don’t care, but you must hide, a marriage with you is in my family’s favor.”

He ran his tongue the inside of his mouth, annoyed and incredulous, he couldn’t believe the typical excuse of the damn old man dying. Jeongin glared at her one last time, grabbed his things and walked out of his apartment leaving Juhee there amidst the tension and previous screams. He went out looking for you but it was useless, you didn’t answer his calls or messages, they wouldn’t let him into your apartment, so desperate he sent a message to Hyunjin, telling him to tell you that nothing was true and that he was about to stop everything.

Furious with no other alternative, he drove to his childhood mansion, where his parents, grandfather and younger brother lived. He stormed out in a fury, being rude to the poor maid who opened the door for him.

“Where the fuck is everyone, huh?!” he shouted, stranded and accelerated at the immense entrance.

“Mr. Yang Jeongin, they’re in the fifth room on the second floor,” the maid answered him timidly.

Jeongin did not respond and breathing heavily in anger, he pushed open the large doors, revealing in himself his grandfather in a hospital bed, with a nurse putting him on IVs and his parents sitting in front of him.

“Oh, so is it true? You’re actually fucking dying?!” he shouted without thinking.

“Yang Jeongin!” his parents scolded him, quickly getting up from their chairs, “Let’s talk outside, please” his mother whispered to him.

“No, I’ll do the talking. You want me to get married? Fine, I’ll do it, but with who I decide to do it with. And if you don’t have enough time left and want to see me do it already, then I’ll do it now, I’ll marry Y/n.”

Everyone seemed startled by the news, more so his grandfather with the disrespectful and raised tone of voice in which he spoke to him.

“You're not going to marry Y/n, are you insane?” this time his mother snapped.

“Ah, so do you remember Y/n?” her son challenged them.

“I’m not going to let you marry a servant’s daughter, what are you thinking, Yang Jeongin?” his mother looked at him in terror.

“What? I thought you wanted to see me married.”

Jeongin’s mother dragged him out of the room, closing the doors and letting her husband reassure his father.

“Just marry Juhee and let your grandfather believe you; do with Y/n whatever you want, make her your mistress and buy her a damn beach house, but marry Juhee.”

Jeongin was unable to believe what he was hearing, bullshit after bullshit. His body was as tense as it had ever been before.

“Why are you insisting that I do it?”

“Because it will bring us many benefits! Think about it.”

“Then what? I should stay married until the old fucker dies?”

“Yang Jeongin, don’t talk about your family like that! Every family has to make sacrifices, even for the ones they love. Our kind should stay with the same kind.”

“You are not my family. Don't talk to me about love, what do you know about that?” he spat in annoyance, scowling at her with his gaze.

“Just marry Juhee, or you know the unspeakable things your grandfather is capable of” she threatened him.

Jeongin let out a cynical laugh, deep down knowing the kind of psychotics the heartless rich could become.

“So what, you’re going to kill her if I don’t show up for the fucking ceremony?” his mother raised her eyebrows, “Do it!” he challenged her, blinded in anger not knowing what he was saying, “Kill her, do it!” he screamed in her face like a little kid, “Do it and I’ll fucking kill myself too. Will you be able to take the blame for killing your son too?”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Yang Jeongin, it’s a fake wedding! Do what you decide best for the maid’s daughter if you want to protect her.”

His eye twitched in fury and stress. He hated his family, hated the way they talked about you, hated every part of his miserable life. Her heart was empty without you, how could you possibly agree to be with a man who would publicly be married?

[…]

5:30 in the afternoon. You missed Jeongin, your anger had ceased and you wanted to hear his voice again, you wanted to listen patiently to what he had to tell you. You didn’t want to answer the thousands of calls and messages he sent you, you just decided to show up at his studio without telling him, where you just recently expressed so much love, hoping to find your lover there, and you did, his car was parked in front of the place. You knocked on the door and seconds later, Jeongin greeted you with a shocked expression and his big bright eyes, hugging you while whispering your name breathlessly, he couldn’t get enough of saying it and he couldn’t get enough of you either, he needed you in his arms so he hugged you tightly, as if he hadn’t seen you in years. His face got lost in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and brushing against your skin, making him feel in heaven again.

“I came because… I know you’re working on something important and you have to finish that thing about your project” you lied, wanting to sound cold but your voice cracked as you lay in his arms.

Jeongin let go of you, he sniffed hard, and as he nodded, you noticed he was about to cry and was holding back, breaking your heart.

He let you in without saying anything and you followed him into the room he used for lighting, cameras and equipment. Jeongin was very sensitive and understood if you didn’t want to talk, just with being near you and you being willing to see him was enough for him.

“Just, this outfit is missing and we’re done with photographs” he spoke in a thick and slightly weak voice, showing you a beautiful white dress, causing you to shiver at the irony.

You looked into his eyes and moved closer to him, you were about to push the dress away and kiss him as he looked so perfect and vulnerable, but the weakness of the moment won you over, thinking that it might be the only time you will wear a white dress together with Jeongin before his ridiculous wedding.

You took the garment and started to dress in front of him shamelessly, making Jeongin blush and avert his eyes, but he wasn’t strong enough to not to see you this time. You moved closer to him, turning your back to him so he can help you with the back zipper; his long fingers pulled up the tiny zipper, you felt the warmth of his breath, he caressed your shoulders for a moment and abruptly you turned around.

“I’ve been waiting for you to make it public about the fake wedding” you blurted out, unable to contain yourself any longer.

Jeongin averted his gaze downward and swallowed nervously.

“Y/n… I, I’m getting married, I’m gonna do it.”

Your chest tightened to an enormous intensity, not the kind of words you expected to hear. Jeongin expected a bad reaction from you, but you remained silent, wanting to hear an explanation. He looked up and met your kind gaze, watching him intently.

“I’ll do it… just to protect you, they’re threatening me that something might happen to you if I don’t, I’m sorry. I’d rather sell my image and sign an insignificant piece of paper than let anything happen to you.”

You couldn’t think of anything but him, so you just said, “And I won’t be able to see you again?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again after I told you I was going to do it.”

You sighed, Jeongin was again on the verge of tears.

“I don’t want to be the other woman” you confessed to which he pouted with his chin quivering as he nodded, ”But I don’t want to lose you either. Because… you don’t love her, right?”

“Of course not, I only love you…. I-I’m so sorry” he stammered finally to burst into tears.

Again you fell to pieces, you held his face as you tried to calm him down and watched him cry, cry for a love that he waited so long for and that he really wanted to be the purest and most adored treasure of both of you. You managed to calm him, wiping his wet cheeks and you watched each other, aching and only with the spark of hope of your love for each other. Your lips met only to reaffirm that there were still feelings in both of you, you did it so slow and desperate, like a goodbye kiss, releasing every energy from your bodies, touching him one last time before sharing him with another woman.

He began to caress you, his wild kisses involved his tongue and both of your bodies were caught between the seduction and pleasure of the moment, becoming completely aroused. Your hands moved down from his face to his marked pecs letting them rest there; Jeongin drew you closer to his body to the point of being able to feel his throbbing erection, absolutely devoted and working only for you, his body reacting and operating only for you. Your core throbbed in satisfaction and each new caress burned your body, you were as needy for sex as you had ever been, so needy for him and his demonstration of love.

Jeongin sensed the synchronization of your arousal with his own in your heavy, panting breathing so his soft lips moved down to your neck, kissing it, causing sweet moans to escape from your lips that were the motivating and pleasurable music for Jeongin. He subtly licked and nibbled your skin, unleashing the arousal of your femininity, moistening your entrance with warmth and intensity. Jeongin continued to lower his kisses, holding you tightly by your waist, he kissed your breast and pulled your dress up, tracing his sweet caresses down your abdomen to your intimate area covered by your panties, he raised his gaze to look at you with a small smile before pulling the garment completely down, leaving your pussy exposed. You sighed at the sensation of your uncovered pussy and felt his breath hit the skin of your mons venus to then be filled with pleasure with his lips kissing it and taking your entire pussy with his mouth, parting your wet folds and starting to lick and suck you, weakening your body, driving you crazy as you were perfectly taken care of in such a sensitive area.

You held onto his shoulder and your other hand stroked his hair, you threw your head back as your chest and abdomen rose and fell battling between the intensity and tension of emotions, while Jeongin enjoyed himself with his face buried in your core. His long, slick finger massaged your clit, while his tongue flicked past tasting your labia and with his other hand he leaned in to open your pussy and relished every inch of it. You gasped, climaxing with his tongue inside you, your body swooning at the force of your orgasm. Jeongin’s cock throbbed choking in his pants, but he just wanted you to have your moment and treasure every sensation he could make you get to feel.

[…]

“So you’ll just pretend until your grandfather dies..” you said, walking into his room, ready to be wrapped in his strong arms again.

“Mmhum” Jeongin murmured, calmer at having you, but at the same time uncontrollably uneasy about the situation.

He took hold of your hands, intertwining them, standing in front of you, unwilling to talk about it, but you had too many questions if you were going to live under Juhee’s shadow, being Jeongin’s mistress.

“And… Will you live together?” the answer was going to break your heart.

You didn’t want to imagine anymore, you couldn’t bear the fact that he would return home every day to her, Juhee would show off her husband and marriage to everyone while you would have to live in messy sheets of a deception with his divided love.

“Y/n, please” he whispered, to get you to stop.

“You’re right. If I will be your mistress I better start behaving like one” you joked, hiding your pain, you let go of his hands and brought your arms up to wrap around his neck.

“Don’t ever say that. You’ll never be that to me; you are everything. My true love.”

You smiled broadly at his corny phrase that made it turn warm to the depths of your soul. You loved him too. You spread your smile to him and you kissed again, more relaxed until the action became more passionate. The temperature rose, leading Jeongin to caress your pussy under your skirt with his fingers; after about your situation a few hours ago, he had this thought of making you his again and again in a passionate union of souls and bodies and, he felt more free to touch you.

You moaned still with your lips trapped in his as you let yourself be carried away by his caresses on your center, his fingers pulling away the fabric and touching you pleasurably all over your folds and sensitive spot, you trembled unable to resist anymore and your sweet lover surprised you with his thumb pressing perfectly on your clit and two of his fingers teasing your insides, filling you but leaving you insatiable.

Jeongin pulled away from you, brushing his nose against yours, enjoying your expression of pleasure and soft whimpers. You had never desired Jeongin sexually, until now, just when he became quite the man and gentleman who knew exactly how to treat you, how to drive you crazy and push you to the edge with his precise touches and movements. Your center moistened his fingers and in the cloud of lust you couldn’t stop thinking about his cock filling you and controlling every inch of you.

He found a rhythm with his fingers, digging effortlessly with his long, nimble digits, almost deep into your loins, bringing you so close to your orgasm.

“Je-jeongin, please.”

You knew exactly what you were begging for, you wanted to be taken by him and his manhood. Jeongin smiled and withdrew his hand from you, making you sigh.

“Let me see you naked, love” he requested, his eyes dark in desire still gazing lovingly at you.

And you quickly obeyed him, showing yourself purely vulnerable in front of him, ready to join your bodies together. Jeongin took you again and kissed you, squeezing and caressing your naked ass and still between kisses, you helped him undress completely, revealing his worked body and well endowed cock, making you throb at the thought of being filled by it, after seeing it finally.

“Let me put on a condom, make yourself comfortable on the bed” he said sweetly, giving you a kiss on your forehead as if it was already a normal thing between you.

You climbed onto his bed, flustered, with your wet pussy and aroused body, waiting impatiently as you watched him reach over to his nightstand and pull a condom from there and then put it on.

He positioned himself between your legs, his fingers again teasing your entrance for a few moments, then lining up his stiff, throbbing cock at your entrance, slowly sliding it in until it made you squeal as it stretched every part of you and felt it brush against your cervix. You both gasped, Jeongin feeling on cloud nine with your walls taking his cock so well.

“Does it feel good?” he added, somewhere between worried and excited.

“Mm, yes Jeongin, you feel so good.”

You hugged him, gently digging your nails into his broad, worked back and scratching him unintentionally as his thrusts were perfection, the latex wrapped around his cock sliding deliciously into you, pounding you slowly and deeply, letting him take you, filling you to capacity. Jeongin’s soft groans in your ear drove you further over the edge, he babbled cute things in his husky voice and kissed you sweetly from time to time, blinding him in lust to the idea of having you all to himself, demonstrating all his love for you.

He continued, thrusting intently, his hips performing a series of delightful motions into your core, his cock bulging over your belly, it felt so good that you cried his name until you arched your back and released the good pain and tension into an orgasm, surrendered between passion and love for him.

[…]

It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of a man whose soul is about to be united for life with the social approval of his acquaintances, with the love of his life. But Jeongin felt miserable, since that was not true, his true love that moved every inch of him would not be waiting for him at the altar today. You were lying in your bed, your heart open, waiting for news that the wedding was over so you could run into his arms and love each other on the sly.

Jeongin could only think of every part of you, all of you that completed him to perfection and the passionate and sweet act you shared before the wedding night, making love completely devoted, promising each other again a lasting love over any adversity, reciting truthful vows into the air as he caressed your naked body entangled in his sheets with his scent.

What rewarded him, was that the day after his wedding it’s gonna be the grand opening of his first exhibition in the gallery you both had worked so passionately on, dedicating it to his true muse, calling it in honor of you and only showing pictures of you, just to piss off the world and show them whose heart truly belongs to him.

Jeongin looked at himself in the mirror, his lip began to tremble and heavy tears slid down his cheeks. His hair was perfectly styled, his expensive suit tailored for him and he was about to leave, where he was surrounded by people and media ready to write fallacies about an empty and fake wedding, Jeongin thought that they believed he had it all, a kind millionaire about to marry another rich beautiful woman, but the truth is that he was and had nothing without you.

｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆｡°✩

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