#i feel a little nervous though since i know he's been through a lot+ there's a few other girls in canon he seemed to be head over heels for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simjaexy · 2 months ago

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𝘾𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙈𝙮 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 | 𝙇.𝙃.

Pairing ⇀ Popular Bad Boy! Lee Heeseung x (F) Nerd! Reader

Synopsis ⇀ You were a nerd, always with your nose in a book, acing every test, and keeping a low profile. What comes as a normal life of yours soon takes a turn when your mom finally gets married to a man that you soon found out was Lee Heeseung dad, the school bad boy. Even though Heeseung doesn’t know you, he can’t help but want to corrupt you in every possible way. So what happens when new things start to unfold between you two that he’s never felt before with someone?

Genre ⇀ Smut, Angst

Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Cheating, Karina is Heeseung’s girlfriend, Cursing, Crying, Minor character death, Family issues (on Heeseungs side), Heeseung is mean and toxic to reader a lot of times, Partying, Drinking, Bullying, Jealousy, Kissing, Making out, Biting, Hickeys, Receiving (m&f), Blowjobs, Eating out, Dom! Heeseung x Sub! Reader, Name calling (nerd, princess, etc.), Grinding, Semi public sex, Overstimulation (f), Fingering, Jealous sex, Rough sex, Breeding kink

W.c ⇀ 12.4k (oops)

A/n ⇀ Hi guys :), this fic honestly was fun and long to make. I was gonna make it longer but since I’m making a Sunghoon fic soon Kndecided to just keep it simple (somewhat). If you guys want a request of another fic/drabble I would not mind at all! This fic is based off of this song so take a listen to it! None of these characters act like this in real life! Like, Comment, Reblog, etc.. Not proofread!

Second marriages were a bitch. As much as you loved seeing your mom feeling happy again, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of something missing. Your Happiness. You wouldn’t say you were exactly happy when your mom sat you down at the dining table and saying she was getting married.

You remember how nervous she sounded, her fingers fidgeting in stress. You didn’t know you could make her feel that way over marriage. You’ve always been close to your dad until he died. It was a hard time coping, which is why you bury yourself with books and studies. You were called a nerd by other people though, but that’s not the whole point why you were moving.

Moving into a new house was supposed to be a fresh start for you and your mom. After years of living alone, your mom finally found happiness with a man you didn’t know at all, and their marriage meant a new family dynamic.

You weren’t sure if the mysterious man however had a kid. You were hoping he didn’t, it would mean less problems to you and babysitting when they go out. Only if you knew who would be the person that would be with you and your happy little life from that day on.

“Is he rich?” You asked your mom who was driving you guys to the house. You noticed she was less nervous now, but still had her fidgeting habit going on.

“I didn’t marry him because he is rich sweetie. I married him because I loved him.” You mom replied.

You shrugged your shoulders, “So he is rich.” You mumbled. Your mom didn’t say anything and continued driving with the music low. You didn’t mention anything else after that.

You and your mom drove through the winding roads, the scenery gradually changing from modest homes to grand estates. Your heart raced with anticipation and curiosity.

Once your mom finally came to a stop at a big house, your mouth went agape. The mansion loomed ahead, an architectural masterpiece that seemed to stretch endlessly. The sprawling gardens were meticulously maintained, with fountains and statues dotting the landscape. You couldn't help but gape at the sheer size and opulence of it all.

"Wow," You whispered, more to yourself than anyone else.

Your mom glanced over at you with a knowing smile, "Impressive, isn't it? Mr. Lee has done very well for himself."

As you pulled up to the grand entrance, you couldn’t help but think of the last name. Lee? It’s sounded somewhat familiar to you, but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

As you guys got out the car, Mr. Lee stepped out to greet you, his smile as warm and welcoming as ever, "Welcome! I hope the drive wasn't too tiring," He said. He went over to your mom and gave her a quick peck to the lips. You mentally gag at the way they were already being loved dovey.

He then went towards you, giving you a quick handshake that you appreciated before he ushered you both inside.

The interior was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings, elegant chandeliers, and art pieces that looked like they belonged in a museum. You tried to take it all in, but it was almost too much.

“This place is amazing," you said, still in awe. He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes.

"I'm glad you like it. Come on, let me show you around." He insisted. As you followed him through the grand halls and lavish rooms, you couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. It wasn’t something you were used too.

You were used to your cozy house that had a tiny garden on one side of your front yard, the claustrophobic hallway you used to run in when you were little. The small living room that only fitted up to five people. Thinking about your old house already felt nostalgic. Walking through this though, you didn’t know if you were gonna get used to it.

Mr. Lee finally came to a halt at the stairs and stared over at you, “The maid can show you your room. She knows where it’s at.”

You noticed a middle aged woman next to Mr. Lee smiling at you. You gave him a curt nod before following the maid upstairs. As you walked in the halls with the maid you couldn’t help but stare at the photos hung up.

You didn’t see any photos of a women or a kid anywhere with Mr. Lee, so maybe you really were gonna be the only child. Some part of that made you feel giddy. The maid finally stops at a door and opens it. You went inside in awe. Your room was beautiful to say the least.

The room was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows that let in streams of natural light. The walls were painted a soft pastel color, giving the room a serene and welcoming feel. A plush, king-sized bed sat in the center, adorned with fluffy pillows and a cozy duvet.

To one side of the room, there was a stylish desk with a comfortable chair, perfect for studying or writing. Shelves lined the walls, ready to be filled with your favorite books and trinkets. A beautiful vanity stood in one corner, complete with a large mirror and ample storage for all your beauty essentials.

The best part, however, was the view. Walking over to the windows, you pulled back the curtains and gasped. The room overlooked a stunning garden, filled with vibrant flowers and lush greenery. You could already imagine spending hours sitting by the window, enjoying the peaceful scenery.

You couldn't help but smile as you took it all in. This room was everything you had ever dreamed of and more. It was your own little sanctuary, a place where you could relax, unwind, and be yourself.

You turned to look over at the maid who was still smiling, “Beautiful isn’t it? It was my idea since I’m the only women in this house.” The maid chimed.

“It’s very beautiful. Thank you.” You responded. She gave you chuckle and a nod before slowly shutting the door, leaving you alone in the room.

As you started to unpack your belongings and make the room your own, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. This was your new home, and you couldn't wait to create beautiful memories here.

The sun was setting when you finally finished unpacking a few boxes. You let out a sigh and wiped your sweat off your forehead. You checked the time and saw that it was almost time for you to head to sleep.

As you were about to move a box, you suddenly felt the random urge to use the restroom, “Now that I thought about it I haven’t you used the restroom all day.” You murmured to yourself. You opened your bedroom door and stepped out.

You wandered through the unfamiliar hallways of Mr. Lee’s mansion, trying to remember the directions he had given you to the bathroom. Every door looked the same, and you were starting to feel a bit lost.

Pushing open yet another door, you suddenly froze. There, in the middle of the room, stood a boy you knew all too well. Lee Heeseung, shirtless with only a towel wrapped around him. It seemed like he just got out of the shower since his hair was still wet. His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" You blurted out, quickly averting your gaze, "I was just looking for the bathroom.”

Heeseung's expression shifted to one of annoyance, "Do you always barge into rooms without knocking?" He snapped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I-I didn't mean to," You stammered, feeling even more flustered. "I just got lost."

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles even more prominent, "Typical. Can't even follow simple directions from my dad."

You felt a mix of embarrassment and irritation at his rude comments, "Look, I said I was sorry. It was an accident. A-And your dad didn’t give me any directions!”

Heeseung scoffed, a scowl on his lips, "Whatever. Just get out of here."

You quickly backed out of the room, closing the door behind you. As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. Angry, embarrassed, upset, and flustered? You groaned as you entered your room again and slammed it shut. You plopped on your bed.

The thought suddenly came to you. Lee Heeseung owns this house too, and you don’t think he’s gonna be nice to you anytime soon. You sighed and rolled on your bed. You were just hoping tomorrow won’t go bad. And ignoring the fact that you still had to use the restroom.

The next morning, you groggily made your way down to the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. As you rounded the corner, you froze. There, standing by the kitchen island, was Heeseung, chatting casually with your mom and his dad. Your mom noticed you first and smiled warmly.

"Good morning, sweetie! Come here, I want you to meet someone," She said, beckoning you over. You walked over, feeling a bit nervous under Heeseung's gaze.

"This is Heeseung," Your mom introduced, "Mr. Lee son."

Heeseung smirked, looking you up and down. "Oh, so you're the one who lives here? I was wondering why the house felt so... ordinary."

You felt your face heat up with anger. He met you yesterday and now he’s gonna act like he doesn’t know you? The audacity! You forced a smile and replied, "Nice to meet you too, Heeseung."

Your mom looked between the two of you, clearly sensing the tension. "Well, I'm sure you'll get along just fine once you get to know each other," She said, trying to lighten the mood.

You shot Heeseung one last glare before turning on your heel and heading back to your room. You rather eat breakfast at school than in front of him.

You adjusted your glasses and gave yourself one last look in the mirror before grabbing your backpack. Today was going to be another long day at school, but you were ready for it. As you reached for the doorknob, the door swung open, and you found yourself face to face with Heeseung.

Heeseung leaned against the doorframe with a smirk playing on his lips, "Hey, nerd," He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You sighed, already feeling the tension, "What do you want, Heeseung?"

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Just a little reminder," He said, his tone turning serious, "When we're at school, don't act like we live together. In fact, don't act like you even know me."

You felt a pang of hurt but masked it with a cool expression, "Don't worry, Heeseung. I have no intention of ruining your reputation."

Heeseung's smirk returned, "Good. Just keep to yourself, and we'll be fine."

With that, he stepped aside, letting you pass. You walked down the hallway, feeling a mix of emotions. Living with Heeseung was already challenging, but pretending like you didn't know each other at school was going to be even harder.

As you walked out the door, you couldn't help but wonder why he cared so much about what others thought. But one thing was clear: you were determined to survive this, no matter how difficult Heeseung made it.

Classes slowly came along, you hated how tired you already were. But one thing for sure is that it was the walking this morning. You had to walk to school while Heeseung just drove right past you with his expensive car, not even offering to ask if you wanted a ride to the same damn school.

When it finally came to lunch you decided to go to the library, a place where you could immerse yourself in books and escape the chaos of high school life.

You were hunched over a thick biology textbook, diligently taking notes when you heard the familiar sound of giggles and whispers. You tried to ignore it, but the voices grew louder until they were impossible to tune out.

"Look at her, always with her nose in a book," One of the girls sneered. "Does she think she’s better than us?"

You kept your eyes on your notes, hoping they would get bored and leave. But they didn’t.

"Hey, nerd," Another girl said, leaning over your table and blocking your view, "Do you even have a life outside of studying?"

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, “I’m just trying to study. Can you please leave me alone?"

The girls laughed, and one of them snatched your notebook, “Oh, look at this! She’s taking notes like a good little student."

You reached out to grab your notebook back, but they held it out of reach, teasing you. Just then, you saw Heeseung walk past the library entrance. Your heart leaped with a strange mix of hope and anxiety. Surely, he would help you. After all, you shared a house, even if he pretended you didn’t exist at school.

"Heeseung!" you called out, your voice wavering slightly.

Heeseung paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours. But instead of coming to your aid, he simply looked away and continued walking, as if you were invisible.

The girls burst into laughter again, "Even Heeseung doesn’t care about you. How pathetic."

You felt a lump form in your throat, but you refused to cry in front of them. Summoning all your strength, you snatched your notebook back and gathered your things, leaving the library as quickly as you could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. You couldn’t focus in class, your mind replaying the humiliating scene over and over. When the final bell rang, you headed home, determined to confront Heeseung.

You found him in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. "Heeseung, we need to talk," You said, your voice firm.

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow, “What’s up, nerd?"

You took a deep breath, "Why didn’t you help me today? You saw those girls making fun of me, and you just walked away."

Heeseung shrugged, closing the fridge door, "Not my problem."

Your frustration boiled over, "How can you say that? We live together, Heeseung. You could have at least said something to them."

Heeseung leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, "Look, what happens at school stays at school. I’m not your babysitter. Deal with your own problems."

You stared at him, disbelief and hurt washing over you, "Is that really how you feel? That I’m just a problem?"

Heeseung’s expression softened for a brief moment, but he quickly masked it with indifference, "Yeah, pretty much."

You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, "Fine. If that’s how it is, then don’t expect anything from me either."

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Heeseung standing in the kitchen. As you retreated to your room, you couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal.

You had always known Heeseung was a popular person but also bad at the same time, for his rebellious nature, skipping classes, and getting into trouble, but you had hoped there was more to him. Today, he had shown you exactly who he was, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You were glad tomorrow was the weekend which meant you can just sleep all the embarrassment away from today. You quickly changed and went right to sleep, not even bothering to take off your glasses.

The morning sunlight gently filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred awake, feeling unusually refreshed. As you reached for your glasses, you noticed they were perfectly set on the nightstand. Confused, you distinctly remembered falling asleep with them on.

You slipped on your glasses and made your way downstairs, the aroma of breakfast guiding you. Entering the kitchen, you saw your mom chatting with Mr. Lee, but there was no sign of Heeseung.

“Good morning, sweetheart," Your mom greeted you with a smile.

“Morning, Mom," You replied, still puzzled, "Did you take off my glasses last night?"

She shook her head, looking just as confused, “No, I didn't. Maybe Heeseung did before he left with his friends?"

Your eyebrows furrowed more. Heeseung came into my room? You shook your head and gave your mom a tight smile. Whatever she was thinking had to be wrong. Not after what happened last night.

Your mom then got up and exscused herself to the restroom. You sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the breakfast your mom had prepared. Mr. Lee joined you, sipping his coffee and looking thoughtful.

"Did Heeseung ever get a chance to talk to you?" he asked casually.

You hesitated for a moment, the best you could do is lie after anything that’s happening between you, "No, we didn't have time to talk."

Heeseung's dad sighed, shaking his head. "That boy... He never wants to talk to anyone aside from me and his close friends. It's like he's in his own world sometimes."

Hearing this, you felt a pang of guilt for lying. You knew Heeseung was reserved, but it hurt seeing that his father noticed that too.

“I-I mean we say our hi’s and byes. We just don’t really have a full conversation.” You spoke.

His father nodded, “I’m just hoping you talk to him soon. I’m not trying to put any pressure on the two of you, but Heeseung has always done bad things after my divorce with my ex wife. He’d always go out doing bad stuff and getting in deep trouble. Then he’d go partying and drinking and come back home late. I feel like if you guys talked he’d understand on your side that it’s not just about messing up your life for the worse.”

You stared at him pitful. Maybe if you could try to talk to Heeseung about everything with his dad it could help, but then again it’s not your problem to fix.

“I understand where your coming from Mr. Lee. I’ll try to talk to Heeseung more often.” You smiled softly. Mr. Lee smiled back grateful. Your mom soon came back as you all continued eating your food.

The sun began setting when you decided to finally leave your room after studying for so long. You tiptoed downstairs and headed to the living room. There you saw Heeseung playing video games on the big TV yelling at his friends.

“Dude what the fuck? I said left dumbass!” He shouted. You rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen and grabbed a snack. You took a piece of candy bar and chewed on it while heading back upstairs while hearing Heeseung cuss out his friends.

You shut the door and grabbed your phone as you sat on your bed. You scrolled through social media for a while when all of a sudden your door slammed open. Your eyes widened when you saw Heeseung looking angrily at you.

His eyes widened when he saw you holding something, “Hey! Did you just steal my candy bar?"

You looked up, then looked down at the candy that was already almost gone. Feeling a bit guilty but also defiant, “I was hungry and it was just sitting there."

Heeseung frowned, clearly upset, "That was mine! I was saving it for later."

"I'm sorry, Heeseung. I didn't think you'd mind. I'll get you another one." You reasoned, but Heeseungs ant having any of it.

Before he was gonna rant, he suddenly stopped himself, “I don’t want another one.” He suddenly said.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “T-Then what do you want?” You stuttered. You mentally slapped yourself from how nervous you sounded. Heeseung didn’t say anything and suddenly walked to you, pushing you on your bed. You let out a gasp and stared up at him on top of you.

“Heeseung what are you-“

“Shut up.” He cut you off. You felt his breath on your face. You lay frozen underneath him, waiting for his next move. He took one of his hands and rubbed along your leg making you jolt.

“Hee-“

“I said shut up.” He snapped. You immediately shut your mouth. He then lowered his head on your neck. You felt his hot breath hitting your cold neck. Your eyes shot wide when you felt him lay a soft kiss on it.

“What if I wanna taste something sweeter?” He mumbled in your neck. You let out a whimper when he suddenly squeezed your leg tight. You shut your eyes closed when he finally lifted his head back up, staring right at you.

You waited, but nothing came. Instead you felt his weight get off of you making you slowly open your eyes. You saw him on the side of your bed, with his half eaten candy bar in his hand.

“Next time ask.” Was all he said before leaving your room, slamming it shut. You finally let go of the breath you were holding on to and held your chest.

What the fuck just happen.

After that incident you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the night. You didn’t wanna see Heeseung after what happened. You were deep into your late-night study session when a faint noise downstairs caught your attention.

Curious and a bit concerned, you quietly made your way down the stairs. The sight of Heeseung, dressed in his usual bad boy attire and slipping on his leather jacket, stopped you in your tracks.

"Heeseung, where are you going?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung glanced at you, his expression unreadable, "It's none of your business," He replied curtly.

You frowned, sensing something was off. "I know you're going to a party. You shouldn't go. What if your dad finds out?"

Heeseung scoffed, shaking his head, “I don't care what he thinks. I need to get out of here."

You stepped closer, your concern growing, "Please, Heeseung. It's not worth the trouble. You know how much your dad worries about you."

Heeseung paused, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. For a second, you thought he might reconsider. But then he turned away, determination in his stride, "I'll deal with it," he muttered before heading out the door.

You stood there, feeling a mix of worry and helplessness, hoping that Heeseung would stay safe and that one day he might understand how much people cared about him.

You didn’t get how he turns so fast from you. The mix emotions he gives you that leaves you a mess. Has he always had that impact on someone? You went back upstairs deciding to just leave it alone. Besides, he’ll never listen to you.

After few hours of thinking and worrying for Heeseung you finally were able to go to sleep. The house was silent and dark, when you heard the creak of your bedroom door. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see Heeseung stumbling into your room. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were unfocused.

"Heeseung? What are you doing here?" You asked, sitting up in bed.

Without a word, he collapsed onto the bed beside you, his head resting on your pillow, "I just... I needed to see you," He slurred, his voice thick with alcohol.

You frowned, worried about his state, "You shouldn't be here. You need to sleep it off."

Heeseung ignored your concern, his eyes half-closed, "You know, you're always so... so smart. I wish I could be like you. Those fuckers.. don’t know what their talking about," He mumbled, his words tumbling out in a disjointed stream.

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. Shocked, you froze for a moment before instinctively slapping him.

Heeseung pulled back, a hurt look in his eyes. "I... I'm sorry," he muttered, getting up and stumbling out of the room.

You sat there, your heart racing, trying to process what had just happened. You didn’t know what came over you to slap him. You then touch your lips. His faint soft lips printed on yours. It then hit you, he was your first kiss.

The next morning, you woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. The events of the previous night played on a loop in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. As you walked down the hallway, you saw Heeseung approaching from the other end. Your heart raced, and you felt a wave of panic wash over you.

Heeseung walked past you without a second glance, as if nothing had happened. Confused and hurt, you turned to confront him, "Heeseung, about last night..."

Heeseung stopped and looked at you, his expression blank, “What about last night?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“You- don’t you remember?" you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Heeseung frowned, shaking his head, "I don't remember anything from last night. I was pretty out of it."

His words felt like a punch to the gut. You had been so affected by what happened, but to him, it was just a forgotten moment in a drunken haze. Feeling a mix of frustration and sadness, you walked away to the restroom, trying to push the memory to the back of your mind.

How could he forget that? Now you're the only one to remember the mess he had made. You did your usual in the bathroom and came out. You didn’t Heeseung anywhere and went back to your room. Maybe going on a walk would be fine to clear the head. As you finished getting dressed, you opened your door and headed downstairs.

You didn’t noticed Heeseung anywhere and put on your shoes before heading out the door. As you stepped outside, you saw him playing basketball in the driveway.

Heeseung glanced up, noticing you, "Where are you going?" he asked, pausing his game.

"For a walk," You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He simply nodded and went back to his game, the sound of the ball bouncing echoing in the quiet morning. You continued walking, but your mind kept drifting back to the way he had kissed you. The memory was vivid, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake it off.

Each step you took seemed to bring back a fragment of that moment, making it harder to move on. You felt a pang of longing mixed with the hurt of knowing he didn't remember. The walk, meant to be a distraction, only made you more aware of the emotions you were trying to escape.

You came back a few minutes later, it was just a walk around the neighborhood anyways. Heeseung was still playing, not paying any mind to you. You walked past him and went inside. You decided to do your studies in the kitchen.

You went upstairs to grab your essentials before coming back down and sitting at the kitchen table, buried in a pile of homework. Heeseung soon came inside and sauntered in the kitchen. He grabbed an apple, and sat across from you. He watched you intently, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Why do you always have your head in a book? Don't you ever do anything fun?" he asked, taking a bite of the apple.

"Studying is fun for me," you replied curtly, not looking up.

Heeseung laughed, "You really are something else."

You rolled your eyes, “At least I don’t go out partying and getting drunk and coming back and doing the unthinkable.”

Heeseung stopped chewing and stared at you with an unreadable expression. It was silent for a few minutes and that’s when you were gonna apologize but he beat you to it.

“Did I bring my girlfriend over yesterday?” He whispered. You paused and looked at him. He has a girlfriend? You felt your mouth go completely dry.

Heeseung has a girlfriend. When the hell did he had a girlfriend? That’s when it finally came to you. Heeseung has a girlfriend, and he kissed you. Heeseung noticed your shocked face and waved his hand in front of your face, “Nerd? You there?” He said.

“Y-You have a girlfriend?” You questioned.

Heeseung frowned before nodding, “Haven’t told my dad though since he would freak out, but now that I’ve brung her over it’s fine.”

He thinks he brung her over last night. He really doesn’t remember anything, you thought.

“No you didn’t bring her over Heeseung, “ You didn’t know if it was even okay to say anything at this point, “I-I was talking about what you did with me-“

“Y/n sweetie were heading out can you lock the door?” You mom yells from the living room. You gasped, completely forgetting that your mom and Mr. Lee were even home.

“Coming!” You yelled back. You ignored Heeseungs look and went to your mom in the living room. She kissed your cheek before shutting the door. You locked it and headed back to the kitchen.

You noticed Heesueng looked deep in thought. You slowly walked over to him, “Heeseung-“

"Forget about last night," He said abruptly, his voice lacking its usual edge.

You blinked, taken aback, "What do you mean?"

Heeseung's eyes shifted away from yours, "Just forget it happened," he repeated, more firmly this time. Without waiting for a response, he got up from his seat and walked away, leaving you alone with a whirlwind of emotions.

You decided to shake it off and bury yourself in your homework, but his words kept coming back. Each time you tried to focus on a math problem or a history chapter, your mind wandered back to the way he said it so causally. It was impossible to concentrate, and your frustration grew with each passing minute.

As night fell, you heard the familiar sound of Heeseung's laughter outside. You looked out the window and saw him heading out with his friends, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. You didn’t even hear him leave. The sight of him leaving made your heart sink. A mix of anger and sadness welled up inside you, he really doesn’t learn.

The next morning, something felt off. You woke up and immediately went to Heeseungs room. You knocked on the door about five times before opening it, that’s when you noticed that Heeseung's bed was untouched. Panic started to creep in as you realized he hadn't come home. You tried to rationalize it, telling yourself that he might have crashed at a friend's place. But the nagging worry wouldn't go away.

As you made your way downstairs, you were greeted by Mr. Lee. His eyes were filled with concern, and you could tell he had noticed Heeseung's absence as well. "Did Heeseung mention anything to you last night? He didn’t come home last night or today." he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing. You knew you should tell him the truth, that Heeseung had gone out and hadn't come back. But something held you back. Maybe it was a sense of loyalty to Heeseung you didn’t know of, or perhaps a fear of getting him into trouble, "No, nothing happened," You lied, forcing a smile, “He probably just stayed over at a friend's place."

Heeseung's dad didn't look convinced, but he nodded, seemingly accepting your explanation. You quickly grabbed your bag and headed out the door, eager to escape the tense atmosphere.

School felt like a blur. You couldn't focus on your classes, your mind constantly drifting back to Heeseung. You scanned the hallways, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he was nowhere in sight. Each passing hour only intensified your worry.

By lunchtime, you were a bundle of nerves. You sat alone at your usual spot in the cafeteria, poking at your food without any real appetite. The absence of Heeseung was worrying you like crazy, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself checking your phone repeatedly, hoping for a message or a call from him. But there was nothing. The silence was deafening, and the worry gnawed at you like a relentless beast.

You knew you had to find him, to make sure he was okay. But where to start? Heeseung was a master at keeping his whereabouts a mystery, and you had no idea where he could be. The uncertainty was suffocating, and you felt utterly helpless.

As you walked home that evening, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. You couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened, something that had kept Heeseung from coming home.

Heeseung finally stumbled through the front door late at night, his usual nonchalant demeanor firmly in place. You had been sitting on the couch, unable to focus on anything but the worry gnawing at your insides. The moment you saw him, relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by a mix of frustration and concern.

"Heeseung, where have you been?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He shrugged, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the stairs, "Out with friends. I'm going to bed," He said casually.

Before he could take another step, Mr. Lee appeared, blocking his path. "Heeseung, we need to talk," Mr. Lee said sternly.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, "Not now, Dad. I'm tired."

But his dad wasn't having it, "No, we're talking now. You can't just come and go as you please without any explanation."

The tension in the room was palpable as the argument escalated, “And who are you to stop me?” Heeseung snapped. You gasped at the way Heeseung said that to Me. Lee.

Me. Lee let out a deep breath through his nose, “I am your father Heeseung.”

Heeseung scoffed, “You lost that status the second you told mom you wanted a divorce.”

Everything else just felt faint to you. Voices were raised, accusations were thrown, and you could see the hurt and anger in Heeseung's eyes. Finally, he stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

You hesitated for a moment, watching as Mr. Lee went to sit on the kitchen table. You decided to follow Heesueng. You found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Without a word, you sat down next to him and gently placed a hand on his back. Heeseung looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace, “It's okay, Heeseung. I'm here for you," you murmured.

Heeseung finally let the tears fall, his body shaking with silent sobs. You held him close, offering what comfort you could. Gradually, the tension began to ease, and the exhaustion of the day caught up with both of you.

Eventually, you both lay down on his bed, still holding each other. As the night wore on, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the day fading away in the warmth of both of your presence.

The next morning, you woke up early, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. You got ready for school, the house unusually quiet. As you walked into the kitchen, you were surprised to see Mr. Lee and your mom sitting at the table, sipping coffee and chatting.

"Good morning," you greeted them, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Good morning, dear," your mom replied with a warm smile, "Heeseung's in the shower. He'll be out soon."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. You quickly got dressed and gathered your things for school. Just as you were finishing up, Heeseung emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and a towel slung over his shoulders.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual.

"Hey," you replied, trying to read his expression.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment before speaking again, "Do you want a ride to school?"

You blinked in surprise. Heeseung offering to drive you to school was unexpected, especially after the tense night before. "Uh, sure. That'd be great."

As you walked to his car, you couldn't help but notice how different he seemed. The usual edge in his demeanor was softened, and he seemed genuine. The ride to school was quiet, but it wasn't the uncomfortable silence you had feared. Instead, it felt comforting.

When you arrived at school, Heeseung turned to you, "Thanks for being there last night."

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Anytime, Heeseung. Anytime."

Students watched as you and Heeseung got out of his cars. Whispers and chatters were heard around you, but you didn’t seem to care. Heeseung walked you to your class and bid you goodbye.

You didn’t know why Heeseung decided to change like this, but at the same time you weren’t complaining.

The school day went by fast to you. You didn’t see Heeseung at lunch, but decided to ignore it. You stepped out of the school gates and saw Heeseung. He made eye contact with you. You slowly walked over to him confused.

“Are you waiting for someone?” You asked him. He nodded his head and tilted it.

“I was waiting for you.” He spoke. Your eyes widened.

“Me? Why?” You mumbled. It was more like a question to yourself than him.

“Cause I can? Come on I’m getting tired. Feels like I’ve been standing here for ages.” He said. You guilty got into the car.

The car ride was silent when you guys got back. You and Heeseung both got out of his car, shutting it with slam. As you were gonna go to the door Heeseung suddenly grabbed your wrist. Your eyebrows furrowed as you look at him.

"I need your help," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "My dad owes me an apology, and I think you can help me get it."

You were taken aback. Was that why he was being nice to you? You didn’t know what to feel.

“Is that why you were nice to me today?” You mumbled, feeling somewhat offended.

Heeseung shook his head confused, “Of course not. I was being nice because of what you did yesterday. No one has ever done that before.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, you began to think that maybe, just maybe, Heeseung was more than his bad boy facade.

“Okay, I’ll help you.” You said. Heeseung gave you a sweet smile that made your feel some type of way. Nonetheless, you gave him a smile back.

Over the next few days, Heeseung's behavior changed. He started doing small, nice things for you—making you coffee in the morning, helping you with your chores, and even engaging in conversations about your interests.

You couldn’t help but notice how when he listened to you, he had a look in his eyes that made your heart race. How he listened to every last detail you’d tell about anything. How he makes comments about little things about you that you’ve never mentioned to him or anyone else. You felt like Heeseung was actually making a change towards you.

On the other hand, you gave out advice for him to follow to make his dad apologize, like suggesting he have an honest conversation about his feelings. Surprisingly, Heeseung took your advice to heart.

Finally, the day came when Heeseung confronted his dad about everything. It didn’t come as easy though.

“Heeseung, I want you to understand the importance of this family. I know we all don’t understand you the way your mom did, but I’m willing to make an effort to show you to see the good side of life.” Mr. Lee said. You noticed Heeseung was a lot calmer than the last time. While on your end, you were praying to god nothing breaks out into fits of anger.

“I know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how our family used to be. I miss how we we used to be.” Heeseung whispered the last part under his death.

You watched how Mr. Lee's face went from upset to sad. You felt bad that you couldn’t step in and comfort. The moment those two words fell out, Mr. Lee lips, for the first time you saw a glimmer of vulnerability in Heeseung's eyes. They hugged and departed from each other. Mr. Lee gave you a knowing nod with you smiling back.

Heeseung looked over at you and gave you a small smile. That was the first time he ever smiled at you. You gave a him a big smile back with a thumbs up. Just as you thought everything will finally get better, you soon found out how wrong you were.

Later that night, Heeseung, having achieved his goal, didn't stick around to celebrate with you. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and headed out to a party, leaving you standing alone in the house, feeling used and betrayed.

You sat on the couch, staring at the door he had just walked out of, wondering if any of the kindness he had shown you was real or just a means to an end. The realization stung, but it also made you stronger.

Instead of letting him leave like that, your only thought was to follow him. You knew where he was going after hearing a phone call with his friend about a party that was happening later today. You grabbed your moms keys and left the house. You knew the address since you also overheard when his friend was on speaker.

You had never been to a party before, and tonight, you decided to see for yourself what drew him away so often. The party was at a house a few blocks away, already throbbing with loud music and laughter. You hesitated at the doorway, but your determination pushed you inside.

The atmosphere was overwhelming, a stark contrast to your usual quiet evenings. You scanned the room for Heeseung, hoping to catch a glimpse of him amidst the chaos.

As you navigated through the crowd, you accidentally bumped into someone. You groaned and looked up. Your eyes widened when you saw it was one of Heeseung's friends, Park Sunghoon. He was tall, with a smug smile that made you instantly freeze, "Hey, aren't you that nerd that was with Heeseung that one day? What are you doing here?" he questioned.

You straightened your posture, trying to muster some confidence, "It's none of your business why I'm here," you replied, your voice steady despite the knot in your stomach.

Sunghoon let out a deep chuckle before leaning on the wall. You weren’t gonna lie and say he didn’t look attractive doing that, “Right. None of my business. So did you just come here to get a quick fuck?”

You gasped at his sentence, “W-What? No! I-I was here just because I can!” You stuttered. Sunghoon smug smile never left when he suddenly leaned towards you. Both of your face close to each other.

“You know, if you ever wanna have fun, you know where I’m at. Heeseung doesn’t need to know.” Sunghoon whispered. Even though the music was booming loudly, you could still hear him from how close he was to you. His breath smelling like alcohol and somewhat of a minty smell.

Just as you were about to walk away, Heeseung suddenly appeared beside him. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition. But then, his expression turned cold.

“What are you doing Sunghoon?" He coolly asked, acting like you aren’t there. Sunghoon backed away from you and gave Heeseung a pat.

“Nothing man. Just talking to this nerd. You know her right?” Sunghoon teased. He knew the answer, but to your confusion he still asked.

Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, "No idea who she is," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

Feeling a mix of embarrassment and hurt, you turned on your heel and pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to escape.

Thats when the tears stung your eyes as you made your way back to the apartment. The night air was cool against your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest.

You reached your car, fumbling with the keys. You finally managed to unlock the door and slid into the driver's seat, resting your head on the steering wheel. The sound of the passenger door opening startled you. You looked up, eyes widening as Heeseung climbed in beside you.

"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion.

Heeseung leaned back in the seat, his expression unreadable, "Why were you at the party?" He asked, ignoring your question.

You looked away, not wanting to admit the truth, "I just wanted to see what it was like," You muttered.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You don't belong in places like that," He said firmly, "Why didn't you just stay home?"

You clenched your fists, frustration boiling over, "Because I wanted to see you," You blurted out before you could stop yourself, "I wanted to understand why you always leave. How parties can make your worries disappear! Why you always switch out on me.” You voice cracking at the end.

Heeseung's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your cheek, "You don't always need to know everything about me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, Heeseung leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart raced as you melted into the kiss, feeling the barriers between your worlds begin to crumble. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You suddenly remembered about his girlfriend and pushed him away, “Heeseung your girlfriend-“

“I don’t wanna think about her right now.” He said. You gulped hard. You knew what you did was wrong, but seeing Heeseung so calm made you relax a bit.

He then looked at you again, “Let's go home," He said softly. You slowly nodded and started the car, exiting the driveway and leaving the loud house. The car ride was silent, with Heeseung staring out the window.

You averted your gaze to him from time to time, however not saying anything. When you guys finally got back you got out the car and headed to the door. You unlocked it, letting yourself in before Heeseung came in.

Just as you were about to say something Heeseung suddenly pinned you on the door, “Heeseung what are you-“

He cut you off and kissed you harshly. You let out a gasp when he nibbled on your bottom lip. He then entered his tongue in your mouth. You squirmed feeling his hot tongue swirling with yours. It all felt too hot. You moaned when he roughly gripped your hips.

The thought of his girlfriend completely washed away when he broke the kiss with both of your salivas connecting at your lips. He didn’t waste a second, grabbing your wrist and taking you to his room. Heeseung's eyes glinted with mischief as he led you to his room, his grip firm yet oddly gentle.

It was the second time going to his room, this time with him with you. The contrast between his tough exterior and the care he took in guiding you made your heart race. As you stepped inside, you couldn't help but notice how surprisingly neat his room was.

Your eyes wandered over the shelves lined with books, some of which you recognized from your own collection. A small, framed photo of a younger Heeseung with a genuine smile caught your eye, and you felt a pang of curiosity about the story behind it. The room was filled with little details that contradicted his bad boy image – a neatly made bed, a few potted plants, and a desk organized with precision.

Heeseung caught you staring and smirked, "Surprised?" He asked, leaning casually against the doorframe. You nodded, unable to hide your amazement. "There's more to me than meets the eye," He said, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it before.

You sat on his bed with him still standing in front of you. He then leaned down and pecked your lips before going on top of you as you lay on the sheets. He started trailing kisses along your neck. You let out a quiet moan when you felt him starting to suck on your neck.

Heeseung grinned at your sensitivity and playfully bit your neck, making you squeak. You wrapped your arms instinctively around his neck. You mewled when you felt him grind on your cloth core. Everything felt too unreal to you.

“Fuck. I can practically feel your wetness.” He groaned. He took his hand and rubbed against your leg like the last time, but this time he slowly crept towards you core.

“H-Hee.” You whimpered. Hearing you already making a nickname for him made him hard. You let out a relief sigh when he finally rubbed against your heat. The pressure of pleasure floating in your body.

Heeseung bit his lip, suppressing a groan when he finally felt your wet shorts.

“Hee please.” You groaned. Heeseung smirked and stared at your facial expression. Mouth agape, eyes rolled back, hair messy, Heeseung knew he was gonna be a goner.

“What do you want princess?” He whispered. His voice husky and filled with lust. You felt yourself already creating a pool with the way he sounded.

“I-It feels weird Hee! Please do something.” You weakly stated. Something inside lit up in Heeseung hearing you say that.

A virgin is probably his most favorite thing when it comes to sex. He didn’t waste any time taking off your shorts. He let out a breath when he saw the wet patch on your underwear and lowered his body down.

Before you could ask what he was doing you suddenly felt a wet sensation on your underwear, “Oh god Heeseung!” You let out a cry and arched your back. Heeseung hummed and licked up and down on your slit. The feeling of pleasure was too much for you.

He stopped and looked up at you, “I wanna see you begging.” He breathed out. He slid off your underwear effortlessly revealing your glistening pussy. You tried covering yourself up but Heeseungs wasn’t having none of that. He pulled your legs apart roughly making you whine. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The way his hard stare was on you.

“If I would’ve know your pussy looked this good I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He said. Your eyes went wide. Now your cheeks were definitely a crimson red. He lowered once again and didn’t give you a chance to say anything before he dipped his tongue inside.

You gripped the sheets at his sudden urgency and let out a loud moan. You didn’t know if your guys parents were home, but it was too late now. He licked your folds up and down, swirling his tongue around your bud. You gripped his locks and wrapped your leg around his head.

“Hee! Oh fuck!” You squealed. He cursed in your pussy and finally dipped his tongue in your hole. You couldn’t control any of your moans anymore. The sound of slurping and moaning bounced around his room.

You felt a weird pit in your stomach and thrashed around, “H-Hee I think I’m gonna- ah!” You moaned and jerked forward. Your orgasm coming quickly and hard. Your mouth went agape as you let out hard breaths feeling Heeseung lick everything up.

You squeezed his locks, feeling overstimulated. You tapped his head weakly, “H-Heeseung no more.” You rasped out. Heeseung finally stopped and licked his lips. Your cum on his chin, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

“How am I gonna fit?” He asked you. Your eyes widened. Shit, he really wanted to have sex with you. You started stammering random words while Heeseung stared at you. If he was gonna fuck you, you have to enjoy it too.

He cut off your rant by kissing you again. You immediately kissed him back, not feeling his fingers near your hole. You let out a scream when you felt his finger slowly enter you.

“Shh it’s okay. It’ll hurt for a quick second.” He muttered. You tried to get used to it, however the pressure was too much.

“H-Heeseung I can’t! It hurts!” You sniffled. Heeseung pampered you with kisses, trying to distract you. You looked so pretty when you cry.

“I know princess. It’ll feel good. I promise.” He reasoned. You panted hard when you suddenly felt your hole slowly getting used to it. Soon enough you were a moaning mess all over again.

“Another one. P-Please.” You dictated. Heeseung grinned and added his other finger. You let out a moan in pleasure feeling his long thick fingers stretching you out.

You felt another orgasm coming again, but Heeseung took his fingers out making you whine. He ignored you, his grin never coming off his face.

He took off his shirt revealing his body. You bit your lip seeing his toned body. You felt something poking you and looked down. There was his hard dick poking out of his pants. You whimpered when he moved it towards your pussy.

“You like what you see?” He teased. You slowly nodded, unsure what to say at that moment. He chuckled at your cuteness and kissed your temple.

You reached your hand unsure if you could touch him. He didn’t seem to mind and leaned in more. You rubbed his cloth dick slowly causing him to hiss. You felt a sudden confidence coming over you and stroked his dick faster. At this point you were practically jerking him off and he seemed to like it, or even loved it.

He pulled away suddenly making you furrow your eyebrows, “Is something wrong?” You mumbled, your brain in a haze.

“I don’t wanna cum like this.” He said. You blushed when he started unbuckling his pants and taking off his pants and boxers at the same time. Your mouth went dry seeing his dick for the first time. It was big.

Is that even gonna fit?

He groaned when he touched it and stroked it slowly. You watched him stroke his dick slowly, blushing and panting. He looked down at you, “Are you ready?”

You impatiently nodded, making him chuckle darkly. He lined his dick at your entrance before slowly pushing in. You felt the air knock out your lungs and gripped him tightly on his arms. He moaned at your tightness. Your whimpers and sniffles made him want to go right at it and fuck you hard.

“Fuck, can I move now princess?” He hissed. You shut your eyes and slowly nodded. He started at a slow pace, watching your every expression to make sure you're not hurting anywhere. Once he sees your face turning from pain to pleasure he picked up his pace faster.

The sound of hard skin slapping heard in his room. You felt dizzy with pleasure with the way he pounded in your pussy, “Oh fuck.” You whimpered.

“Feel good princess?” He asked. You frantically nodded your head. He sighed feeling you clench around him.

“M’gonna cum Heeseung.” You panted out. Heeseung hummed and buried his face in your neck, the feeling making you ticklish. You felt your orgasm coming and scratched onto his back. You bit Heeseung neck feeling your orgasm hitting you. Heeseung let out a pained moan and came after you.

You both panted unevenly and hard. Heeseung slowly pulled out and fell right next to you. You stared up at the ceiling rethinking everything. You had sex with Lee Heeseung, the schools bad boy. The one who made you feel like you were worthless.

Your thoughts were cut off when you felt a strong arm wrap around you. You looked up at Heeseung and saw him also in thought. The silence was somewhat comforting while also heavy. Heeseung nuzzled against the top of your head and sighed.

You slowly felt your eyes get heavy feeling his warmth accompanying you into slumber.

Heeseung looked down when he suddenly heard little snores coming out of you. He stared at your lips and leaned down, giving them a soft peck. Besides, it was gonna be the last time he would feel them.

You woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, feeling disoriented. As you slowly sat up, you realized you were in an unfamiliar bed. Panic surged through you until you recognized the room – Heeseung's room. The events of last night hit you like a truck, but you distinctly remembered the heated moment that had led you here.

Looking around, you noticed Heeseung was nowhere in sight. Your heart pounded as you spotted a neatly folded note on the pillow beside you. With trembling hands, you picked it up and read:

Had to head to school early. See you there. - Heeseung.

You sighed, a mix of relief and frustration washing over you. Gathering your things, you quickly got ready and made your way to school, your mind racing with thoughts of what had transpired.

As you entered the school grounds, you spotted Heeseung almost immediately. He was leaning against a locker, surrounded by his usual group of friends, exuding his typical bad boy aura. His laughter echoed down the hallway, and you felt an inexplicable pang in your chest.

But what shocked you the most was the girl under his arms, giggling as she whispered something in his ear making him smile. You stood there watching the scene unfold. Your eyes met his for a fleeting moment. His expression shifted from amusement to something unreadable as he watched you.

Suddenly, the memories of last night came flooding back – the new side he shown you yesterday, the intimate moment you guys had together.

Feeling overwhelmed, you quickly looked away and walked past him, determined to ignore him. You could feel his gaze burning into your back, but you kept your head down, focusing on getting to your locker.

Throughout the day, you couldn't shake the feeling of Heeseung's eyes on you. Every time you glanced his way, he was watching, a mix of amusement and something else in his eyes. It was as if he was silently pleading for you to acknowledge him, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him.

During lunch, you found a quiet corner in the library to gather your thoughts. The events of last night played over and over in your mind. Heeseung had been so different – so real. But now, in the harsh light of day, it was easier to retreat behind your walls and pretend it hadn't happened.

As the final bell rang, you gathered your things and headed out, hoping to avoid any further encounters. But as you stepped outside, you saw Heeseung waiting by the gate, his expression serious.

"Nerd," he called out, his voice coming out more firm than usual, "We need to talk."

You hesitated, torn between your instinct to flee and the curiosity gnawing at you. Finally, you took a deep breath and walked over to him, bracing yourself for whatever came next.

“what do you wanna talk about?” You questioned, knowing full well what he wanted to talk about. He knew you weren’t stupid.

"Do you regret it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t and that you would do it again if you could. To tell him that you feel something for him that you’ve never felt with anyone else, but reality came to you that he still has a girlfriend, and that your parents are getting married soon, "Yes," You replied, your voice trembling, "I regret it."

Heeseung's face fell, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair, "I figured," He muttered, "I agree... I just needed to know from your point of you. No hard feelings?”

You nodded your head, holding your tears in, “Agreed.”

After that conversation, you made a conscious effort to avoid him. It wasn't easy, especially when you saw him with his girlfriend, laughing and holding hands. Each time, it felt like a knife to your heart, but you kept your distance, knowing it was for the best.

Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but notice the change in Heeseung. He seemed more distant, more withdrawn. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a quiet facade that you couldn't ignore. He stopped speaking to you for once, walking right past you whenever you’d see him anywhere in the house. He wouldn’t add sarcastic comments towards your way anymore. He still went to parties and hang outs as usual, but he was a lot more aggressive than usual when he came home drunk.

Days turned into weeks, and you tried your best to avoid him. You buried yourself in your studies, hoping the memory would fade. But every time you saw Heeseung with his girlfriend, a pang of guilt and regret twisted in your chest.

Or when you would hang out with your mom and Mr. Lee it reminded you exactly why you’re there. Because they were getting married. How would they react when they would’ve found out there kids fucked each other? You didn’t wanna know.

It was like any other day with you reading in the living room. You were almost done with a chapter when you suddenly heard a knock at the door. You didn't think much of it until you heard voices—familiar voices. Curiosity got the better of you, and you opened the door revealing Heeseung's girlfriend, Karina, and his friends Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay.

"Hey, can we come in?" Jake asked, though it seemed more like a statement than a question. You nodded, stepping aside to let them in.

You heard footsteps coming downstairs and was greeted by Heeseung, “Baby!” Karina smiled and went to hug Heeseung. He hugged her back just as tightly.

“Hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming too.” Heeseung chuckled. Karina gave him a teasing smile in return.

“Well I haven’t seen you since yesterday so I decided to come over!” She chimed. Heeseung seemed to be ignoring you completely, his attention focused on his girlfriend.

You were cut off with your thoughts when Heeseungs friends all greeted you with a mix of politeness and indifference, but Sunghoon gave you a knowing smirk.

They made their way upstairs, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Heeseung didn't even glance your way, and you felt a pang of something—was it disappointment? You shook it off, returning to the living room with your book.

A little while later, there was a knock on the wall. You looked up to see Sunghoon standing there, leaning casually against the wall like he did the last time at the party.

"Hey," He said, his voice smooth and friendly, "Got a minute?"

You didn’t like where this was going. You nodded, putting down your book, “What's up?"

"There's this party later tonight," Sunghoon began, stepping closer to the couch you were sitting at. "It's gonna be pretty cool. I was wondering if you'd like to come with us."

You blinked, taken aback. A party? You remembered the last time and gulped. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"I don't know," you said finally, "Parties aren't really my thing, especially from last time.”

Sunghoon smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "Come on, it'll be fun. You might even enjoy yourself."

You bit your lip, still uncertain, "I'll think about it.”

"Fair enough," Sunghoon said, giving you a nod, "Just let me know."

He left, and you were alone with your thoughts. A party? With Heeseung and his friends? It seemed like a bad idea, but a part of you was curious. What would it be like to step out of your comfort zone again, even just for one more night?

As the hours passed, you found yourself thinking more and more about Sunghoon's invitation. Finally, you made up your mind.

You rifled through your closet, looking for something to wear. You settled on an outfit that was a little out of the ordinary for you—something that made you feel confident and a bit daring.

When you were ready, you took a deep breath and headed downstairs. it seemed as if Sunghoon was waiting for you, his eyes widening in surprise and admiration when he saw you.

"Wow," He said, a grin spreading across his face, "You look amazing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Thanks."

He offered you his arm, and you took it, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. As you walked out the door, you didn’t notice a certain someone watching the scene unfold in front him.

You decided to drive with Sunghoon since he insisted and made your way to the party.

The night was electric with the buzz of excitement as you stepped into the party, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nerves. You adjusted your glasses and smoothed down your dress, feeling slightly out of place among the throngs of people. Sunghoon was by your side, his easy smile putting you at ease.

"Come on, let's dance," He said, taking your hand and leading you to the dance floor. The music was loud, the bass thumping through your body as you moved to the rhythm. Sunghoon's presence was comforting, his laughter infectious as he twirled you around.

As you danced, you couldn't help but notice Heeseung across the room. He was leaning against the wall, his arm draped around Karina’s shoulder. His eyes, however, were fixed on you and Sunghoon. There was a dark intensity in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the fun you were having with Sunghoon.

But the more you danced, the more you felt Heeseung's eyes on you. It was unsettling, and you found yourself glancing his way more often than you intended. Karina seemed oblivious, chatting animatedly with her friends, but Heeseung's attention never wavered.

"Hey, you okay?" Sunghoon asked, noticing your distraction.

"Yeah, I'm fine," You lied, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just a bit hot in here."

"Let's get some air," He suggested, leading you outside to the patio. The cool night air was a welcome relief, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

Sunghoon leaned against the railing, looking at you with concern, "You sure you're okay?"

You nodded, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn't stop thinking about Heeseung. The way he looked at you, the way he seemed to be watching your every move. It was driving you crazy.

Before you knew it, you found yourself leaning in and kissing Sunghoon. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, a desperate attempt to get Heeseung out of your mind. Sunghoon was surprised but didn't pull away, his lips soft and warm against yours.

But the kiss didn't have the desired effect. Instead of forgetting about Heeseung, you felt his gaze burning into you even more intensely. You pulled away from Sunghoon, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion.

"Sorry," you mumbled, not sure what else to say.

Sunghoon looked at you with a mix of surprise and concern, "It's okay. Are you sure you're alright?"

Before you could answer, you felt a strong hand grab your arm. You turned to see Heeseung, his expression dark and angry, “We need to talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you away from Sunghoon and into the house. You stumbled after him, your heart pounding in your chest. He led you upstairs to a quiet room, closing the door behind him.

"What the hell was that?" He demanded, his eyes blazing with anger.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," He said, stepping closer, “You and Sunghoon."

You looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze, "It's none of your business."

Heeseung grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, "It is my business," he said, his voice low and dangerous, “You think you can just kiss him and I'll be okay with it?"

You felt a surge of defiance. "Why do you care? You have a girlfriend."

Heeseung's grip tightened, his eyes flashing with anger, “You think I care about her? The only reason I'm with her is because I can't have you."

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Anger, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite identify, "Then why didn't you ever say anything?"

Heeseung let go of your chin, running a hand through his hair in frustration, "Because I'm an idiot. All these fucking feelings I’ve been feeling pisses me off. Were too different for each other. Which is why I also thought you'd never be interested in someone like me."

You took a step back, trying to process everything, "And now?"

Heeseung looked at you, his expression softening, "Now I can't stand the thought of you with someone else."

You felt your resolve melting, the anger and confusion giving way to something else. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Fuck it. "Then show me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung didn't need any more encouragement. He closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a desperate intensity. You melted into the kiss, all the pent-up emotions finally finding release.

You moaned into the kiss, letting his tongue entering your mouth. You didn’t know how much you missed this when he finally lay you on the bed. He didn’t waste time stripping off his clothes, still leaving you cloth. Before he could take your clothes off you stop him, “Wait a minute.”

Heeseung frowned. Did you wanted to stop already? He didn’t have time to think before you suddenly got up and kneel down. Oh shit. Heeseung stared at you in shock.

“Are you, doing what I think you’re doing?” He said, unsure if you were actually gonna do it. You nodded and bit your lip. His hard dick leaking precum. You slowly grabbed it and stroked it slow. Heeseung threw his head back feeling you squeeze around the tip and went faster.

“Shit! Wait.” He muttered. You ignored him and put the just the tip in your mouth. You hummed finally being able to taste him. Heeseung let out a drawn moan feeling your hot wet tongue.

He grabbed your head and gently pushed your head deeper down. You obliged obediently and went back and forth. You felt his dick tense slightly, letting it rest on your tongue.

“Ah hell. Why are you so good at this?” He questioned. You took his dick out your mouth and stroked it.

“Google.” You simply said. Heeseung couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. You smiled and went back to sucking his dick. He soon felt his climax coming and made you deep throat him.

You gagged a little but recomposed yourself and let him use you. You moaned when you felt his hot spurts of cum going down your throat. You made sure you swallowed every last drop before letting go with a pop.

You got back up and kissed him. He sighed into the kiss and pushed you back on the bed. He helped you take off your clothes and kissed along your chest. You whimpered when you felt him suck on one of your breast while fondling with the other.

You grabbed his hand and lead it down to your wet pussy, he rubbed it in circular motion.

“Please Heeseung put it in now. I can’t wait.” You ranted. Heeseung chuckled and slowly lined his dick at your entrance. He rubbed his dick alongside your folds making you mewl.

He finally entered inside you making you both moan in unison. He didn’t wait a second to let you get used to his size and went full speed. You moaned uncontrollably, not being able to hold back. Heeseung kissed you to make you a bit quiet.

“You’re so tight princess. Fuck, gonna breed this pussy dry.” He moaned. You nodded your head, long gone to even cooperate what he was saying. He grabbed both your legs and pushed them against you shoulders, having better access to fuck your hole.

You let out a cry when he hit your spot and arched your back. Heeseung smirked, not stopping his brutal pace on you. You felt your orgasm coming and bit your finger to stop yourself from being loud. Your orgasm came out long and drawn while Heeseung watched you unfold.

He gave out a few more thrust before cumming deep inside you. You let out pants and watched Heeseung take out his dick. He got up from the bed to the restroom and came back with a wash cloth.

He wiped the both of you off and helped you get dress. As you guys finished you finally looked at him.

“Heeseung, what are we?” You finally asked. Heeseung stared at you before giving you a small smile.

“Whatever you want us to be.” He replied. You bit your lip uncertain. He still had a girlfriend.

“Your girlfriend. What about her-“

“I broke up with her. Right when I saw you and Sunghoon leave to the balcony I knew you were the one.” He admitted. You felt your heart swell up and smiled.

“Then I want us to be together then Hee.” You whispered. Heeseung nodded and cupped your face.

“Whatever you want princess.” He said before giving you a peck. You then went back downstairs to the party and walked towards the exit. Before you left you saw Sunghoon talking to one of his friends.

You both made brief eye contact, but what surprise you was when Sunghoon gave you a smile and wink. You quickly felt yourself smiling back at him and waving bye.

You went inside Heeseungs car and buckled your seatbelt. Heeseung started the car while having his other hand on yours. You didn’t know what you guys were gonna do when you get home, but you knew you will sort things out tomorrow.

For now, you’ll enjoy this moment with his comfort surrounding you. And the love that was finally growing that you guys held out for so long.

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s1m0nth3swag · 8 months ago

Text

Francis Mosses x GN!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.

The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.

The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.

Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.

A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?

Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.

You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.

"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.

Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.

"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.

When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.

Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.

Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #x reader #gn reader #thats not my neighbor #milkman x reader

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pucksandpower · 1 month ago

Text

A Permanent Claim

Day 24 → Piercing 💋 Toto Wolff

Warnings: 18+ content, body modification, genital piercing

Kinktober Masterlist

The paddock is buzzing, as it always is before a race. The hum of anticipation clings to the air, and for the first time in his career, Toto feels … distracted.

You stand next to him, your hands clasped in front of you, eyes wide, taking everything in. It’s your first race. The team is used to Toto’s steely focus, his towering figure commanding the space around him, but today something’s different. There’s an energy swirling around the two of you that no one can quite place. Whispers trail in your wake like shadows, and not one of the mechanics dares ask.

Toto rests a hand on your lower back, a possessive yet gentle gesture, guiding you through the crowd. His touch is firm, confident. He doesn’t look at you, but you know he’s watching, aware of every move you make, every breath you take.

“How are you holding up?” He asks, his voice low, cutting through the noise around you.

You glance up at him, a small, nervous smile tugging at your lips. “It’s a lot. I’m trying to take it all in.”

He nods, his gaze softening for just a fraction of a second. “You’ll get used to it.”

You will, you think. You have to. Because standing here, next to him, you realize how much of his world you’ve yet to understand. The power. The pressure. The eyes constantly watching. It’s intoxicating and suffocating all at once.

Toto’s phone buzzes, and his focus shifts. You can tell it’s important — everything he does is important — but he hasn’t left your side since you arrived, and part of you wonders if he’s more concerned about you than the race.

"You don’t have to stay with me,” you say, trying to sound light. “I know you have work to do.”

He turns his head slightly, his eyes narrowing just a touch. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

There’s a finality to his words that leaves no room for argument. You bite your lip, nodding, trying to suppress the heat rising in your cheeks. Toto doesn’t often make grand declarations, but when he speaks like that, when his tone shifts into something so sure, you feel anchored.

Across the paddock, you catch sight of a familiar face — Lewis Hamilton. He’s leaning against one of the barriers, casual, yet you can tell he’s been watching the two of you. You don’t know him well, but you’ve heard the stories, seen the headlines. A part of you wants to wave, to acknowledge him, but something holds you back.

Toto doesn’t miss the way Lewis’ eyes drift toward you. He never misses anything.

Lewis pushes off the barrier, walking over with that easy confidence of his. “Hey, Toto,” he greets, his voice smooth, eyes flicking to you for just a second before locking back on your husband.

Toto’s grip on your waist tightens imperceptibly, but his expression remains neutral. “Lewis.”

Lewis’ smile widens, clearly picking up on the tension, but choosing to play into it. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he says, turning his full attention to you now. “I’m Lewis.”

You blink, taken aback by his forwardness, but manage a polite smile. “I know who you are.”

“And you are?”

You open your mouth, but Toto cuts in before you can respond. “My wife.”

The words land heavily, like a brick shattering the easy rhythm of the conversation. There’s a pause — a beat of silence — as Lewis’ eyes flicker to Toto, surprise briefly flashing across his face.

“Wife?” Lewis repeats, clearly not expecting that.

Toto’s hand remains steady on your back, but his fingers press a little harder into your skin. You can practically feel the intensity radiating from him, even though his face remains composed, unreadable.

“Yes,” you say, softly but firmly. You tilt your hand slightly, the massive engagement ring and wedding band catching the sunlight, gleaming like a warning. "We’ve been married for a while."

Lewis glances at your hand, and something unreadable passes over his expression. “Huh,” he mutters, leaning back slightly. "Didn’t know that."

The silence stretches, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of both their gazes. You wish the ground would swallow you up, wish that the paddock wasn’t so exposed, that every curious eye wasn’t trained on the three of you like vultures circling a fresh kill.

Lewis, sensing the tension, chuckles lightly, trying to diffuse the situation. “Well, congratulations. You’re a lucky man, Toto.”

Toto’s expression doesn’t change, but you can see the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “I’m aware.”

It’s a simple statement, but the underlying message is clear: back off.

Lewis doesn’t seem fazed, though. He flashes you a smile, one that’s a little too charming, a little too familiar. “You ever need a tour guide around here, I’m your guy. Could show you all the good spots — where the real action is.”

You laugh awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. “I think I’ll be busy with-”

“Her schedule’s full,” Toto interjects smoothly, cutting you off. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it now, a subtle shift in tone that you recognize all too well. The kind of tone that means he’s done with pleasantries.

Lewis raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the push-and-pull. “Right. Well, if you ever change your mind-”

“She won’t,” Toto says, this time more forcefully.

Lewis holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just being friendly.”

“Friendliness isn’t necessary,” Toto replies, his voice low, sharp. “You have a race to focus on.”

There’s a pause as Lewis considers his options, then he lets out a low chuckle. “Fair enough. I’ll see you both around.” He winks at you, the gesture making your stomach churn uncomfortably. With one last glance at Toto, he turns and walks away, his strut a little too exaggerated.

You exhale, not realizing you’d been holding your breath.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

Toto’s gaze softens as he turns to you, his thumb brushing lightly against your side. “Like what?”

“Being … this visible.” You shrug, gesturing vaguely toward the paddock. “I didn’t realize how intense it would be.”

He studies you for a moment, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes — concern, maybe, or guilt. It’s hard to tell with him sometimes. “We don’t have to come here again.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, it’s fine. I just need to get used to it, that’s all.”

He doesn’t argue, but the way he’s looking at you tells you he’s not convinced. His hand slides from your waist to the small of your back again, grounding you, claiming you.

As you both turn back to the team garage, you can still feel the eyes on you, the whispers trailing in the air like smoke. You try not to think about Lewis, about the way his words felt like needles pricking your skin, or how the weight of your rings didn’t seem enough to stop him.

But Toto knows. He always knows.

Back inside the garage, the chaos of the upcoming race surrounds you. Mechanics are moving fast, engineers checking data, voices crackling over the radio. But you can feel Toto’s focus on you, his mind elsewhere even as he addresses the team. His hand tightens around his headset, the tension in his body mounting, until-

Snap.

The plastic cracks under the force of his grip, and the entire room goes silent. Heads turn, but no one dares say a word. Toto stares down at the broken headset in his hand, his jaw clenched tight.

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s fine.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the shattered pieces in his hand. Then, slowly, he exhales, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“I’ll get a new one,” he mutters, his voice tight, controlled.

But you know it’s not about the headset. It never is.

“Maybe,” you whisper, “next time, we’ll come without the drama.”

His eyes meet yours, and for the first time today, the tension breaks. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his hand resting firmly on your back.

“Next time,” he says softly, “I’ll make sure they know who you belong to.”

***

The drive is unusually quiet.

Toto’s hands grip the wheel with the same intensity you’ve come to recognize over the years, but his face gives nothing away. It’s the middle of the week, and you’re expecting something mundane — lunch, a meeting maybe — but the route he’s taking is unfamiliar. You glance out the window, trying to figure out where exactly he’s headed, but the streets become less and less familiar.

“Where are we going?” You finally ask, your voice light but curious.

Toto doesn’t respond right away. His jaw is set, eyes locked on the road ahead. Finally, after a long pause, he says, “Somewhere we should’ve gone a long time ago.”

That doesn’t clear up anything. You furrow your brow, glancing at him for some kind of clarification, but his expression remains unreadable. His focus is too sharp, too deliberate.

“Toto, seriously,” you say, sitting up straighter in your seat. “Where are we going?”

He exhales through his nose, a deep, controlled breath. “You’ll see in a few minutes.”

You open your mouth to ask again, but something in his tone tells you to wait. So you sit back, your fingers absentmindedly playing with your wedding ring, spinning it around your finger the way you do when you’re nervous.

After a few more turns, Toto pulls into a small parking lot. You look around, scanning the nondescript building in front of you. A sign hangs above the entrance:

Gilded Needle.

Your heart skips a beat. You turn to Toto, eyes wide. “What — why are we here?”

Toto unbuckles his seatbelt, turning to face you. His expression is calm, but there’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve seen only in moments when he’s dead serious. “Because,” he says, his voice low, steady, “the rings aren’t enough.”

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. “What do you mean, the rings aren’t enough?”

He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing over the engagement ring, then the wedding band. “These,” he says, his voice tight with restrained frustration, “aren’t enough to keep people like Lewis from flirting with you.”

A hot flush creeps up your neck. You hadn’t realized how much Lewis’s flirtation had gotten under Toto’s skin. “Toto, it’s not like-”

“Not like what?” He interrupts, his grip tightening just slightly around your hand. “Not like you noticed? Not like it bothered you?” He shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “It’s not about what you did or didn’t do. It’s about making sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to.”

Your heart stumbles over itself at the word belong. You’re not sure if you should be offended or flattered. Maybe a little of both.

You look at the building again, then back at him. “So … a piercing?”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Something more permanent.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Permanent. The weight of the word settles in your chest, both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

“But … where?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your mind races, thinking of earlobes or maybe a discreet stud somewhere, but when Toto speaks again, your world tilts.

“VCH,” he says, as casually as if he were discussing dinner plans.

You blink. “Wait, what?”

Toto’s eyes darken, and the intensity in his gaze sends a rush of heat straight through you. “The vertical clitoral hood. It’s more permanent than any ring. And no one else will ever see it. But you’ll know. And I’ll know.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Toto, that’s … that’s extreme.”

He reaches for you, cupping your face in his large, calloused hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I don’t do things halfway, and neither do you. This is just another way to show what’s already true.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and charged. You feel a mixture of disbelief, anxiety, and … something else. Something deep, primal, that you can’t quite name. Your pulse quickens.

“Toto, I … I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “Just trust me.”

And somehow, despite everything, you do. You always have.

He opens the car door, stepping out, and before you can fully process what’s happening, he’s at your side, opening your door. His hand is extended toward you, palm up, waiting. You hesitate for only a second before placing your hand in his, letting him pull you to your feet.

The piercing parlor looks unassuming from the outside, but the moment you step in, the sterile scent of disinfectant and steel greets you. A woman with bright purple hair stands behind the counter, her heavily tattooed arms crossed over her chest.

“Toto,” she greets with a knowing smile, her eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to him. “You called ahead.”

He nods. “Is everything ready?”

She gestures toward a door in the back. “All set up. Just head back, and I’ll be in shortly.”

Toto keeps his hand on your lower back as he guides you through the door. The room is small but clean, with a leather chair in the center, a tray of gleaming metal instruments set off to the side. Your stomach flips, anxiety mixing with the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You sit down, your mind buzzing with a thousand thoughts. “Are we really doing this?” You ask, your voice barely steady.

Toto kneels in front of you, his large hands resting on your knees. His gaze meets yours, and there’s a tenderness there that cuts through the tension. “Yes. But only if you’re sure.”

You swallow hard. “It’s … a lot.”

He nods, his thumb tracing circles on your leg. “It is. But I want you to feel … secure. Safe. This is a symbol. For both of us.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. A symbol. It’s more than just the act — it’s the message behind it. The permanence. The trust.

The door opens, and the woman from the front steps in, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Alright, let’s get started,” she says, her tone professional but warm. She pulls a stool over, sitting in front of you. “So, you’re getting a vertical clitoral hood piercing today. I’m going to explain each step of the process so you know exactly what’s happening, okay?”

You nod, your heart hammering in your chest.

“First, I’m going to clean the area,” she says, grabbing a disinfectant wipe from the tray. “It’s important to make sure everything’s sterile to avoid infection.”

You flinch slightly as the cold wipe touches your skin, but the sensation is brief. Your hands grip the sides of the chair, trying to stay calm. Toto’s presence next to you is grounding, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder.

“Next, I’ll mark the spot where the piercing will go,” the piercer continues, grabbing a small marker. “I’ll have you check the placement before we move forward.”

She leans in, making a precise mark on your skin. You feel her focus, her hands steady and sure. You can’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable, but Toto’s steady grip on your shoulder is an anchor.

“Take a look,” the piercer says, handing you a small mirror.

You glance down, your heart racing as you inspect the mark. It seems so small, so insignificant, but the weight of what it represents is enormous.

“Is the placement okay?” she asks, her voice calm and patient.

You swallow, nodding. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Great,” she says, setting the mirror aside. “Now, I’m going to use a receiving tube to protect the tissue and guide the needle. It’ll be a quick, sharp pinch, and then it’s over.”

Your grip tightens on the sides of the chair as you brace yourself. Toto leans closer, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing.

The piercer positions the receiving tube, her movements practiced and efficient. “Alright, I’m going to count down from three. Take a deep breath.”

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, feeling the cool air fill your lungs.

“Three … two … one.”

The sharp sting of the needle pierces through your skin, and for a moment, the pain is all-consuming, bright and searing. You gasp, your body tensing, but then — just as quickly — it’s over.

The piercer works quickly, threading the jewelry through the fresh hole. “And now the jewelry is in place,” she says, her voice almost casual, as if she’s done this a thousand times. “Just going to clean it up now.”

Your body relaxes slowly, the pain fading into a dull throb. Toto’s hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek, tilting your face up so you’re looking at him.

“You did it,” he says, his voice filled with quiet pride.

You manage a shaky smile, still feeling a little lightheaded. “That was … intense.”

The piercer finishes cleaning the area and steps back, giving you some space. “You’ll need to follow the aftercare instructions closely,” she says, handing you a small pamphlet. “Keep it clean, avoid tight clothing, and no … strenuous activities for a while.”

Toto chuckles softly beside you, clearly picking up on the implication. You shoot him a look, but the amusement in his eyes is impossible to ignore.

“Thank you,” you murmur to the piercer, your voice still a little shaky.

She nods, standing and removing her gloves. “You’re all set. Take your time, and come back if you have any questions or concerns.”

As the door clicks shut behind her, the room falls into a heavy silence. You lean back in the chair, feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. The reality of what just happened is starting to sink in, and you’re not sure how to process it all.

Toto stands, offering you his hand again. “Ready to go?”

You take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Your legs feel wobbly, but Toto’s steady presence keeps you grounded. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walk toward the door.

“How do you feel?” He asks, his voice soft.

You think for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Different. But … good.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

And as you step out into the cool air of the parking lot, you realize that this — like everything else with Toto — was never just about the piercing. It was about trust. About belonging. About knowing, in ways words could never fully capture, that you’re his, and he’s yours.

***

The night is quiet, a blanket of stillness settling over the room as you and Toto lie intertwined under the covers. His warmth surrounds you, his chest a steady rise and fall beneath your cheek. The faint light from the bedside lamp casts a soft glow across the room, giving everything an intimate, golden hue.

You’re nestled against him, your legs tangled with his, the weight of his arm draped across your waist. His hand moves slowly, lazily tracing the curve of your hip as you drift in and out of a blissful, relaxed haze. It’s been a few weeks since your piercing, and while the intensity of the moment had faded, the memory of it still lingers. A quiet reminder of just how deeply tethered you both are.

Toto’s fingers are gentle as they begin to travel lower, dipping just under the waistband of your underwear. You shift slightly, your breath hitching in anticipation, but you don’t say anything. The sensation of his touch is grounding, like he’s always known exactly how to unravel you, piece by piece.

His voice is low when he finally speaks. “It’s healed well, hasn’t it?”

You nod, biting your lip, feeling a flutter of nerves and excitement. “Yeah. It’s been good.”

His fingers brush against the piercing, and you inhale sharply. Even after all this time, the touch there is still new, still electric. He moves with a kind of reverence, testing the waters, gauging your reaction as he gently taps the small barbell. The sensation shoots through you, sharp and exhilarating, and you let out a soft gasp.

“I’ve been waiting,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, “for the right moment to give you something.”

You blink, turning your head slightly to look at him. “Something?”

He doesn’t respond right away, just keeps his fingers playing delicately with the jewelry, the pressure of his touch making you squirm. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as he watches you react, his eyes dark and full of something intense.

“Yes,” he says, finally shifting his weight to reach over to the nightstand. His arm moves smoothly, the drawer sliding open with a quiet click. Your curiosity piques, but you’re too caught up in the feeling of his fingers still teasing you to fully focus on what he’s doing.

When he pulls his hand back, there’s a small, sleek jewelry box in his grasp. He holds it in front of you, his expression soft but deliberate. “I had this made for you.”

Your pulse quickens. The box is elegant, understated, but you can tell immediately that whatever’s inside isn’t ordinary. Toto’s taste has always been impeccable, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now that tells you this is special.

“Open it,” he whispers, his voice thick with anticipation.

You sit up slightly, propping yourself on one elbow as you take the box from his hand. The weight of it feels significant, and your fingers tremble just a little as you lift the lid. Inside, nestled against a bed of black velvet, is a hoop — white gold, gleaming in the soft light, adorned with tiny garnets and diamonds that catch the light in the most delicate way.

Your breath catches in your throat. The garnets, Toto’s birthstone, are a deep, rich red, their contrast against the diamonds creating something timeless, yet intimate. The design is intricate but subtle, something that only you and he will ever truly see.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, unable to take your eyes off it.

Toto’s hand is on your back now, a comforting weight that steadies you. “I wanted something that felt more … permanent,” he says, echoing the words from weeks ago. “Something that’s not just for show. It’s for you. And for me.”

You nod, your heart swelling with emotion as you gaze at the jewelry. It’s more than just an accessory — it’s a symbol, another layer of the bond that ties you both together.

He shifts again, gently taking the box from your hands and setting it aside. “Let me put it in for you.”

You bite your lip, feeling a rush of nerves again. The piercing has healed, but the thought of him changing it — of him being so hands-on in such an intimate way — sends a thrill through you. You nod, laying back down, your head resting on his chest as he moves over you.

His hands are steady, and there’s something soothing about the way he handles the small barbell currently in place. He unscrews it with careful precision, his fingers working deftly even though the act itself feels deeply intimate. You hold your breath as he removes the simple piercing, your body humming with anticipation.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he positions the new hoop. “This might feel a little strange,” he murmurs, his voice low and calm, “but I’ll be gentle.”

You nod, barely able to form words, and then you feel it — the cool metal sliding through the piercing, the slight pinch as it passes through your skin. It’s quick, and before you can fully process it, the new jewelry is in place. Toto fastens it carefully, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary as if he’s savoring the closeness, the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“How does that feel?” He asks, his voice a soft rumble.

You exhale, your body relaxing into his touch. “It’s … perfect.”

He smiles, clearly satisfied, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not done yet. His hand trails lower, brushing against the new hoop, and your body jolts in response, hyper-aware of the sensitivity there. You squirm, but he holds you in place, his touch light but firm.

“I’m not quite finished,” he says, and you can hear the teasing edge in his voice.

Before you can ask what he means, he’s reaching into the nightstand again. This time, when he pulls something out, it’s not a box, but a delicate chain — white gold, matching the hoop. It gleams in the soft light, the intricate links catching the glow from the bedside lamp.

Your eyes widen as you realize what it’s for. “Toto …”

He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he attaches one end of the chain to the hoop. The sensation of the cold metal brushing against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, and you instinctively shift under his touch.

“I had this made, too,” he says, his voice smooth and calm as he works. “It’s detachable. Only for when I want it.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing as he finishes securing the chain. The weight of it is light but noticeable, and the idea of him having this kind of control over you, of being able to tug on it whenever he wants, makes your breath come faster.

Toto leans back, his hand still resting on your thigh as he looks down at his work, clearly pleased. “There,” he murmurs, his voice deep with satisfaction. “Now it’s perfect.”

You can feel the chain moving with every breath you take, a constant reminder of his presence, his claim. Your body is already hypersensitive, the tension building in your core as his fingers brush lightly over the chain, testing its weight.

Then, without warning, he gives a gentle tug.

The sensation is immediate, a sharp jolt of pleasure that courses through you, leaving you breathless. Your hands grip the sheets, your body arching slightly as you try to process the intensity of it.

“Toto,” you gasp, but he’s not done.

He tugs again, harder this time, and the sensation is so intense that your body trembles beneath him. Your breath comes in short, desperate gasps, your mind spinning as he continues to play with the chain, each pull sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you.

“Toto, please …” you gasp, your body tense, every nerve ending on fire.

He chuckles, low and dangerous. “Please what?”

You can barely think, let alone form coherent words. All you know is the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming sensation that’s building inside you, threatening to consume you.

“Please … don’t stop,” you manage to choke out, your voice trembling.

He growls softly, his hand moving to your hip, holding you steady as he tugs the chain again, this time with more force. The overstimulation is almost too much, your body trembling as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of control.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect. All mine.”

You can’t respond, your breath coming in shallow pants as the sensations build, one after the other, until they’re too much to bear. Your body arches off the bed, your hands gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“Toto, I-”

He tugs again, harder, and the wave of pleasure that crashes through you is too intense, too overwhelming. You cry out, your body going limp, boneless beneath him as the overstimulation sends you spiraling into a haze of sensation.

Toto watches you, his expression a mix of satisfaction and adoration as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your trembling body. “There’s my good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft now, soothing. “You did so well.”

You can’t even respond, your body too spent, too overwhelmed to do anything but lie there, completely at his mercy. But as you slowly come back to yourself, the weight of the chain still resting against your skin, you can’t help but feel a deep sense of belonging. Of being his, in every possible way.

Toto shifts beside you, his hand stroking your hair as he pulls you close. His voice is a low, soothing rumble as he whispers, “You’re mine.”

***

Toto’s hand rests possessively on the small of your back as you both step into the dimly lit penthouse suite. The heavy wooden door clicks shut behind him with a quiet finality, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. His grip tightens ever so slightly, a silent reminder of the tension that’s been simmering beneath the surface all evening.

The dinner had been a formality, an obligation for one of the team’s sponsors. You sat beside Toto, the perfect wife, engaging in polite conversation, flashing smiles at the right moments. But the man at the other end of the table — the one with the wandering eyes and smooth comments — had tested Toto’s patience in ways no one else ever dared.

Toto’s jaw had been clenched the entire night, his polite exterior betrayed only by the tightening grip of his hand around his water glass, the flicker of something darker in his eyes whenever the man’s gaze lingered too long on you. You felt it, too — the weight of Toto’s stare, the quiet tension in his posture, the way his fingers would brush your thigh under the table in a subtle, grounding gesture.

Now, back in the privacy of your suite, the air between you is charged, thick with the unspoken. You can feel the intensity radiating off of him, the silent fury he’s held in check for hours.

Toto doesn’t say a word as he leads you further into the room, his hand firm but deliberate on your back. He stops in the center, the large bed looming just behind you. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and unreadable, and you can see the storm brewing in them. The weight of his gaze alone is enough to make your knees feel weak.

“You know why we’re here,” Toto finally says, his voice low, steady, but carrying an unmistakable edge. It’s not a question. It’s a statement, a reminder of the man he is — and the man you belong to.

You swallow, your heart beating faster in your chest. You nod, your voice caught in your throat as you hold his gaze. The tension is palpable, and there’s a part of you that already knows where this is going, already craves it.

“I didn’t do anything,” you say, but your voice is soft, almost tentative. You’re not pleading, not really. You know that this is about something deeper, something that goes beyond the surface of what happened at the dinner.

Toto’s eyes narrow slightly, and he tilts his head, studying you for a moment. “No, you didn’t,” he agrees, but there’s a pause, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. “But you let him think he had a chance.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the accusation, but you know better than to argue. There’s a gleam in his eyes now, something dark and possessive that makes your pulse race. It’s not anger — not really — but something more primal. A need to assert his claim, to remind you, in no uncertain terms, who you belong to.

Without another word, Toto moves to the nightstand, his movements controlled, deliberate. You watch him, your heart pounding in your chest, as he opens the drawer and pulls out the familiar length of the chain. The sight of it — white gold, gleaming in the soft light — sends a shiver down your spine.

He holds it up for a moment, letting it dangle between his fingers, the weight of the chain swaying gently in the air. His eyes flick back to you, dark and intent.

“On the bed,” he says simply, his voice firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

You move without question, the familiar pull of his command guiding you. Your body reacts instinctively, your legs carrying you to the edge of the bed. You lower yourself onto it, the cool fabric of the sheets brushing against your skin as you lie back, your heart hammering in your chest.

Toto’s gaze never leaves you as he steps closer, the chain still clutched in his hand. He moves with the quiet authority that always sends a thrill through you, his presence filling the room as he towers over you. His eyes rake over your body, lingering on the curve of your waist, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath.

“You’re mine,” he says softly, but there’s no mistaking the intensity in his voice. “And I need you to remember that.”

You nod, your breath catching in your throat as his words sink in, reverberating through you. You already know it — know it in the deepest parts of you — but there’s something about the way he says it now, the way the chain gleams in his hand, that makes you feel it all over again.

Toto kneels beside the bed, his hand sliding over your thigh as he reaches for the delicate hoop piercing. His touch is gentle, but you can feel the heat in it, the barely restrained control as he attaches the chain. The sensation of the cool metal against your skin sends a jolt of awareness through you, your body already responding to him, to the unspoken promise in his touch.

Once the chain is secure, Toto stands again, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. He gives the chain a light tug, testing it, and the sensation sends a thrill through you — a reminder of the control he has, of the power dynamic that exists between you.

“Crawl to me,” he commands, his voice low, steady.

The words hang in the air for a moment, and then you move, the weight of the chain pulling against you as you shift to your hands and knees. The sensation of crawling, of being pulled by the delicate chain, sends a rush of heat through you, every nerve in your body attuned to him.

You move slowly, deliberately, each motion guided by the subtle pull of the chain as you make your way toward him. The distance between you feels both too far and too close, the tension between you growing with each inch you close. Toto’s eyes never leave you, watching your every movement with a dark intensity that makes your heart race.

When you finally reach him, you stop, kneeling at his feet, the chain taut between you. Your breathing is shallow, your body thrumming with anticipation as you wait for his next move.

Toto’s eyes darken, and for a moment, he says nothing, simply looking down at you with a kind of possessive hunger that makes your skin tingle. Then, slowly, he reaches down and unzips his pants, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Your breath hitches, your eyes widening as the reality of the moment sinks in. The tension, the anticipation, the slow, deliberate way he’s orchestrating this — it’s overwhelming, intoxicating.

Toto steps closer, the chain still taut between you as he looks down at you with that same dark, commanding intensity. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. The weight of his gaze, the subtle pull of the chain, the way his body towers over you — it all speaks volumes.

Your eyes flick up to his, and in that moment, you know exactly what he wants, exactly what he’s asking of you without saying a word. And you give in, the same way you always do — willingly, eagerly, knowing that this, this moment, is a reminder of everything that you are to him, and everything he is to you.

Your hands move slowly, trembling slightly, as you reach for him, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his pants. You hesitate for a brief second, but you know this is what he wants. No, it’s more than that — it’s what he needs. The reminder of control, of dominance, of the fact that you are his in every possible way.

His hand tightens around the chain, a light but unmistakable tug, guiding you closer, urging you forward. Your heart pounds in your chest, your body already humming with the anticipation of what’s to come. You undo his belt with slow, deliberate movements, your breath shallow as you pull the pants down, freeing him from the confines of the tailored fabric. The silence between you crackles with tension, the only sound the subtle clink of metal and your own uneven breathing.

Toto doesn’t say anything, but his hand remains firm on the chain, pulling gently, reminding you of the invisible line tethering you to him. His presence is overwhelming, his control absolute, and you find yourself moving without question, guided entirely by the silent commands in his eyes.

You lean forward, your lips brushing against the soft skin at the base of him, and the low groan that escapes his throat is enough to send a shiver through you. You know that sound well — it’s the sound of his approval, the sound of him letting go of the tightly held control that always simmers beneath the surface. You take him into your mouth slowly, carefully, your tongue swirling as you adjust to the weight of him, the taste of him.

Toto’s breath hitches, his hand gripping the chain a little tighter, and you know you’re doing exactly what he wants. He’s still watching you, his dark eyes never leaving your face as you take him deeper, your hands resting lightly on his thighs for balance. The connection between you — the chain, the tension in the air, the way he’s completely focused on you — is intoxicating, overwhelming in the best possible way.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, barely above a whisper, but it sends a thrill through you nonetheless. His fingers tug on the chain lightly, almost as if testing you, reminding you of the power dynamic, the control he holds so effortlessly.

You hum in response, the vibrations traveling through him, and his low groan tells you all you need to know. You work him slowly, methodically, your movements deliberate as you take him deeper, inch by inch. Every sound he makes, every slight tug on the chain, spurs you on, and you can feel the heat building between you, the tension coiling tighter with every passing second.

But Toto isn’t just letting you take control. His grip on the chain tightens again, and this time, when he tugs, it’s firmer, more insistent. The movement sends a jolt through your body, forcing you to take him deeper than before, pushing you to your limit.

You gasp around him, your throat constricting slightly as he presses further, the sensation intense, but not unbearable. He’s guiding you, controlling you, and you can feel the way he’s holding back, teetering on the edge of his own restraint.

“You know exactly what I need,” Toto murmurs, his voice thick with desire, and the words send a fresh wave of heat through you. “Show me.”

You obey without hesitation, your hands tightening on his thighs as you take him deeper again, your body trembling with the effort to keep up with his rhythm. His hand never leaves the chain, the slight tension a constant reminder of his control, his dominance, the fact that you belong to him entirely in this moment.

As you work him with slow, practiced movements, you can feel him beginning to lose control, his breath coming faster, his hips shifting ever so slightly. He’s close, and you know it. You can feel it in the way his grip on the chain tightens, in the low growls that escape his throat, in the way his body tenses beneath your touch.

And then, he gives the chain one more, hard tug.

The force of it sends a shockwave through you, your body jolting forward as he pushes you to take him completely. The sudden movement, the intensity of the moment, takes you by surprise, and you struggle for a second, your throat constricting around him as you try to keep up. You choke slightly, your body rebelling against the overwhelming sensation, but Toto is there, always in control, always aware of you.

His hand moves to your throat, massaging gently, his touch both grounding and soothing as he helps you adjust. “Breathe,” he murmurs, his voice rough but gentle at the same time. “Just breathe.”

You do as he says, forcing yourself to relax, to trust him, to let go. The tension in your throat eases under his touch, and you manage to swallow, the sensation intense but bearable now that he’s guiding you through it. He watches you closely, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his hand still massaging your throat as you swallow again, taking him in fully.

“That’s it,” Toto whispers, his voice thick with approval. “Good girl. You can take it.”

You nod slightly, your body trembling as you continue to work him, the weight of his hand on your throat a grounding presence as you find your rhythm again. His breathing is ragged now, his body tense as he hovers on the edge, and you know it won’t be long before he lets go completely.

He tugs on the chain again, his grip firm but measured, and the sensation sends another jolt of heat through you, your body reacting instinctively to his control. You’re close to your own edge now, the intensity of the moment pushing you closer and closer, and you know that he’s orchestrating this perfectly, guiding you both to the brink.

“Look at me,” Toto commands, his voice rough with desire.

You force your eyes up to meet his, the intensity of his gaze sending a fresh wave of heat through you. His eyes are dark, focused, filled with the kind of possessive hunger that makes your breath catch. And then, with a final tug on the chain, he tips you both over the edge.

The sensation hits you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming. You choke slightly, your throat constricting around him again, but his hand is still there, massaging, guiding, helping you through it. You swallow as best as you can, your body trembling with the effort, but Toto’s control, his steady hand on your throat, keeps you grounded.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl as he watches you struggle, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

You do. You let go completely, trusting him to guide you through it, to help you navigate the overwhelming sensations. You manage to swallow again, the intensity of it making your head spin, but Toto’s touch keeps you grounded, keeps you tethered to reality as the moment finally begins to pass.

When it’s over, you collapse against him, your body completely spent, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Toto is still holding the chain, still in control, but his touch is gentler now, soothing as he strokes your hair, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of approval as he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. “You did so well.”

You nod weakly, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment, but there’s a deep sense of satisfaction settling over you now. You did what he needed, what you both needed, and the weight of that accomplishment fills you with a quiet, powerful sense of contentment.

Toto presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips soft against your skin as he holds you close. The chain still dangles between you, a silent reminder of the bond that ties you together, the connection that goes deeper than words. But for now, it’s just the two of you, tangled together in the aftermath, completely in tune with each other.

And in this moment, there’s no doubt in your mind that you are his. Entirely, completely, undoubtedly his.

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month ago

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Menor's Halloween

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The second of my Halloween-centric fics

Alexia grins as she looks at herself in the mirror, straightening out her skirt and putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

The family Halloween party has been a staple ever since her childhood, bringing the family back together every year without question.

It was basically a rule at this point, something no one could get out of and chosen to take place on a day when no one has an excuse to be elsewhere.

"Are you ready yet?"

It's Olga's first time at the party, unable to make it the past few years. She's gone fairly conservative with her outfit, a generic Halloween costume of a zombie cheerleader.

Alexia can forgive her though because originally Olga hadn't been able to come until her meeting in Madrid was cancelled last minute so she had to buy the unpopular costume from the store.

Alexia, on the other hand, has had her costume planned out for months with everything ironed to perfection.

"Ready!" Alexia calls out," I just need to find-"

"The bag is on the table where you left it last night."

Alexia grabs the bag from the table, swinging it over her shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat of the car.

Family events like this one normally end up with a lot of drinking and, while she wouldn't usually partake, Alexia's already planned to allow herself a few more drinks than normal.

Olga's decided to take up the driving home duty to let Alexia drink however much she wants.

"I'm nervous," Olga says, straightening out her cheer skirt and rubbing at her face - though she grows a little annoyed when the face paint rubs off onto her fingers.

"Don't be nervous," Alexia says," You've met everyone before."

"I know but...Halloween party seems more official."

"They'll probably already be drunk," She replies," And try to ply your with pizza. Or paella. Depending on if my aunt cooked or my uncle convinced her to order in."

"Sounds delightful."

"That's the spirit!"

Alexia knocks on the door, greeted by the slightly tipsy face of her cousin when it opens.

He giggles a little, a sure-fire sign he's been drinking. "I-I thought you were already here." He bursts into more hysterical laughter after that and Alexia gets the feeling that she's not in on the joke.

"And you've brought the wonderful Olga! Come in! Come in! Can I interest you in some pizza?"

"So Tio convinced her?"

"No. Mama cooked. Papa just ordered in anyway! Off you go now, Ale. I want to talk to your girlfriend!"

He pulls Olga away without another word and Alexia rolls her eyes.

"Gee, I love you too. Typical."

Alexia rolls her eyes fondly, easily losing her cousin and girlfriend in the crowd of family members either halfway to drunk or already firmly there.

A giggling hiccup has Alexia turning to see another one of her cousins by the fridge.

"I could have sworn you were already here," She says, giggling and Alexia sighs.

"Alright, what am I missing here? You're the second person to tell me that."

Her cousin giggles again, downing another vodka shot and shooting Alexia a drunken smile. "Just that I could have sworn you came with Tia Eli today. Though...you did seem a little shorter."

She giggles off before stumbling away but she's already given Alexia all the information that she needs.

She picks her way through her family members, stopping briefly to say hello to the aunt and uncle who are hosting and then her mother before finally seeing who she's been looking for.

"Is that my shirt?!" She demands," And my armband?!"

You turn around, eyes wide. An answer is on the tip of your tongue before you take in what she's wearing.

"Is that my skirt?! Are those my rackets?!"

"Don't change the subject!" Alexia says," You've dressed as me for Halloween?!"

"You dressed as me!"

"That's different."

"How?"

"It-It just is!"

Alexia takes you in as she steps back. You've got your hair done up in her usual ponytail rather than your regular braids. You've got her full Barcelona kit on along with the armband and her boots. You've even brought a football with you just in case people didn't realise who you were meant to be.

Alexia, on the other hand, had gone out of her way to dress like you. She's wearing one of your tennis skirts and your Nike shirt. She's got her hair in your usual braid with your Barcelona cap and even the gold shoes Nike gave you for your Olympic run. She's got a racket bag over her shoulder, full of the old rackets you'd left at home before your move abroad.

You seem to be taking Alexia in just like she's taking you in before nodding.

"Those are the replica shoes, right?" You check.

"Yeah. They cost a lot though. You're quite the superstar. That isn't one of my hattrick balls is it?"

"No, just one of the ones you leave lying around at Mami's."

Alexia nods. "Good. You look good though."

"Thanks, I practiced your haughty look a lot."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "I don't have a haughty look."

"You so do all 'I'm Alexia Putellas, captain of Barcelona, the best team in the world'."

"But I am Alexia Putellas and I am captain of Barcelona which is the best team in the world. I won the Ballon D'or twice, you know."

"Yeah, well I won all the Grand Slams. And the Olympics."

"Now, now," Alexia says," This isn't a bragging match. Because if it was, I'd win." She reaches for you, trapping you in a headlock and rubbing her knuckles against your head. "Which one of us has more awards?"

"Only because you're an old woman now. By the time I'm your age, I'm going to be the greatest tennis player in the world."

"Yeah," Alexia teases," Aim high."

You grin at her, shoving her away before trying to tackle her to the floor. She doesn't move an inch but you had been expecting that.

"I guarantee I can score more goals on you than sets you can win against me."

Alexia laughs.

"The garden's free. Want to test that theory?"

You grin. "Well, don't start crying when you lose."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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certaimromance · 1 month ago

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𝜗𝜚 The Book Thief.

Spencer Reid x Librarian!reader

Summary: In your uneventful first week at work, a man arrives to return a book two weeks late, and you decide to test his patience for a bit of fun.

Words: 2,3k.

TW: fem!reader. teasing. spencer from the firsts season with glasses meow. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm putting a lot of myself here because teasing a little to flirt is so fun.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Spencer's day was quickly turning into a complete disaster, and anyone paying attention would notice. He thought that he probably looked like a lunatic. His glasses were misplaced, his hair was blowing in the wind, his pants were rumpled, and his bag was still open with a book that wasn't his on the verge of falling out. Normally he felt like a disaster, but this was beyond his usual limits. He didn't even know how he had gotten into this situation, let alone how he had managed to get up from the couch he had fallen asleep on the night before.

His feet made their way to the stairs of the library, which were quite imposing, and he struggled up them, holding on to the railing so as not to fall. He was somewhat taken aback when he walked through the door and noticed that the place was empty, without a single soul loitering or even browsing through a book. All the tables were empty and shiny, as if they had been cleaned recently and no one had used them since. Even the librarian's desk was empty, if a bit more cluttered with various books, papers, and pens strewn about.

Where was everyone? Was the place closed?

Reid was on the verge of departing, having considered the possibility that his time there might have been in vain. However, you emerged from behind the bookcase, observing him with a keen interest, almost as though you were equally taken aback by his presence as he was by yours.

“Hi.” You were the first to speak without taking your eyes off him.

“Hi.” He replied immediately, still showing a bit of his nervousness at your sudden presence. “I'm looking for the librarian. Do you know if she's here?”

As you listened to him, you walked to your desk and sat in the chair, feeling his gaze follow you. “Here I am.” You said, waving a hand to point to yourself.

He blinked a few times, his brain short-circuiting for a moment because you looked nothing like the woman who had been the librarian for years, with whom he always exchanged a few kind words and talked about the occasional book. She was probably three times your age, drank a lot of coffee, and didn't smile at him or anyone else as brightly as you did now.

“You're the librarian now?” He repeated, tilting his head slightly, looking for confirmation on your face. Noticing your nod, he felt even more out of place with his disheveled appearance and tried to straighten his unruly hair to look more decent.

It might have been a bit silly, but the fact that you were so young and probably about his age made him a bit more nervous than he would have liked. His social skills were already not the best with anyone, but with a pretty girl they were even less so.

“Yes, I am.” You confirm, noticing his slightly disheveled appearance at that moment. His subsequent attempt to clean himself up makes you chuckle internally as you watch him awkwardly try to look more presentable after learning who you are.

Spencer's curiosity grew by the minute. He looked at your desk, even though he had seen it before, but this time he noticed that most of the books there had dividers and post-it notes that made it obvious that you were reading them. He also noticed that the old caffeine smell that hit you as soon as you walked in was gone, and that was when he saw the cup of tea in your hands. It was clear to him that you had a different way of working than your predecessor. So he took a moment to watch in silence as you settled in.

“How can I help you?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts and startled him a bit.

He cleared his throat, hoping you hadn't noticed that he was trying to get to know you a little by spying on your stuff. His eyes moved quickly from the books on your desk to yours, pretending that nothing had happened and that he wasn't lost in his own thoughts.

“I've come to return a book.” He said after a few seconds, taking it out of his bag and placing it on the counter so you could take it.

You picked up the book and examined it with interest, running your fingers over the cover and checking that it was in good condition. It was the first time in your first week on the job that anyone had ever returned a book, or even approached your desk for anything more than asking where the bathroom was. After carefully checking to make sure the book was completely fine, you opened it to see if the due date was in order, and then you realized there might be a problem.

“Mr. Reid, you should have returned this book two weeks ago.” You pointed it out after going through the file. “And you didn't ask for an extension.”

When Spencer heard your comment, he looked surprised; his eyes went to the floor, and then he looked back at you with a hint of embarrassment. He realized that he had almost completely forgotten about the book after working on several difficult cases in a row for days. He had barely had time to get a good night's sleep as he had to travel non-stop from city to city.

“I'm sorry, I...” He begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had every intention of returning the book, but unfortunately the policy here is not to grant extension after extension…the last few weeks have been pretty hectic. I have to admit that I lost track of time a bit. I…”

At that moment, you noticed how nervous he seemed to be about the whole situation, and a somewhat wicked idea came to your mind to step into your total cliche librarian role.

“I understand your situation, Mr. Reid, but you are a regular visitor here, as far as I can see. The rules must be followed by all, and there are no exceptions.” You pointed as you handed the book back to the bookseller. “What if someone had wanted to read it? Imagine the sadness of someone who doesn't know if their favorite copy will ever be available again because someone missed the deadline.”

At your words, Spencer swallowed dryly, and a hint of horror came over his face at the thought that he might have prevented someone else from enjoying a good book. He automatically felt a bit selfish about it.

“I hadn't considered that.” He said, biting his lip nervously. “I really wanted to return it.”

Seeing him in all his nervous glory, you couldn't help but find him strangely adorable. You didn't understand how anyone could be so nervous about a library fine that wasn't even that high. You had already learned that most people didn't even bother to check out books because of the hassle and how easy it could be to forget to return them. Not everyone has a true appreciation for books, and to finally meet someone who does is comforting.

“This is a very serious matter. How do you plan to compensate the poor soul who might have been interested in reading that book?” You added, observing his reactions with careful consideration.

He looked down again for a few seconds and then looked up to meet yours in the midst of his great nervousness. He felt somewhat exposed and vulnerable, so he thought about apologizing again, but your expression suggested that perhaps that wouldn't be sufficient this time.

“I...” He seemed to have run out of words, his brain working quickly to think of a worthy excuse. “I'll pay the fine, of course.”

“Oh, certainly.” You laughed lightly at the obvious, easy way out I'd given him, and he raised an eyebrow as if expecting something else. “But I think that's a bit mundane, don't you? You can't throw money at every problem that comes your way.”

Spencer's mind began to consider what other possibilities you might be alluding to. He even contemplated offering more or apologizing again until he noticed a subtle gesture that suggested you were holding back a smile. It was then that you stood up from your chair to be closer to his height, surprising him. He wasn't accustomed to someone being so suddenly close to him, which made his cheeks flush a little.

“Can I ask you a question?” Your breath brushed against his, which made him nod quickly, indicating his willingness to engage in further conversation. “Are you a book thief, Mr. Reid?”

The question takes you by surprise, and he is momentarily at a loss for words, just watching the way the soft light from the lamps hanging above you two reflected in your eyes. The unexpected proximity and the sudden question were not what he had envisioned in any of the thousand scenarios his mind created per second. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and then answered, his voice slightly hoarse.

“A book thief?” He repeated, as his brain processed what you had just asked him. “No, of course not. I would never...”

“Then what are you stealing, Mr. Reid?” You look into his eyes in a way that makes him shudder and feel both the urge to run away and the desire to never escape. “Maybe hearts?”

Spencer's cheeks reddened in a mixture of surprise and shock at your words. The idea of being considered someone capable of stealing hearts sounded so absurd to him. He stared at you, unable to find the right words to respond, his brain went blank for a few seconds, which was an unusual experience for someone like him. And the fact that you kept calling him ‘Mr. Reid’ didn't help his heart stop beating so hard and his rational side come into focus a bit.

“What? I don't...I didn't...” He finally managed to stammer. “I don't steal hearts. I…I only read books. I love books.” He blurted out, noting how sappy that last sentence had sounded.

Tell a librarian that you love books. Really? That's a good response to a weird kind of flirtation?

Reid wanted to punch himself in the face.

“Did you know that a Yale University study found that those who read books live an average of two years longer than those who don't?” The words were pouring out of his mouth before he could control them and think about whether it was timely or not. “Reading keeps the brain healthy and strong by keeping it active...which...which could be one of the reasons why those who read live longer.”

“Well, that's interesting. It seems like we'll be living longer.” You said this with a seriousness and interest that surprised him because he expected quite the opposite.

At that moment, you noticed that his glasses were out of place, and you couldn't help but feel the need to step closer and put them back on properly. As soon as you did, he froze. No one had ever done this before, and it seemed strangely intimate. He already felt quite vulnerable under your gaze, and your unexpected gesture made it even harder for him to keep his composure.

He swallowed dryly, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “Uh...thank you.” He murmured, his voice a little shaky.

Despite his considerable expertise and success as a profiler, he felt somewhat uncomfortable in this particular situation. The feeling of being watched so closely, along with your questions and your touch, left him almost speechless and unable to profile you. He wasn't used to people catching him off guard like that, and he found it challenging to come up with a witty response that would make even the slightest impression. He felt a little out of his depth, and in a strange way, he liked it.

“It's nothing, Spencer.” You replied with a smile.

His first name...it's possible that he had never liked to be called that name as much as he did until that moment, when it came from your lips.

“May I call you that?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts again.

“Yes, absolutely. Please.” He replied too quickly and now wishes he hadn't. He probably sounded foolish.

“Well, Spencer.” You repeated his name again, simply for the joy of it, which caused him to smile and try to talk again.

But the moment had to break suddenly.

You were both taken aback by the sudden opening of the front door, which prompted Reid to refocus his attention as soon as you both turned away from each other. You sat back in your chair, patiently awaiting the arrival of the newcomer. And at that moment, the former librarian appeared with a bag from a nearby restaurant in her hand, watching the two of you with interest.

“Hi mom.” You said.

His eyes widened as he looked back and forth between you, the former librarian, and the door. He was trying to understand the situation and how he hadn't foreseen it before. He hadn't even considered that there might be a relationship between the woman he had known for years and you, as you hadn't mentioned anything either.

“Mom?” He was frowning.

Spencer's phone suddenly rang, a high-pitched, shrill sound that echoed throughout the library, breaking the rule of silence. However, it was a rather timely interruption, giving him a chance to regain his composure and escape the increasingly uncomfortable and confusing situation. After apologizing, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, saw the caller ID, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was his work.

“Sorry.” He muttered, his eyes darting between you and your mother, barely noticing the resemblance between the two of you. “I...I have to go, but thank you for the help. I won't forget to return a book again.”

And with that, he left.

“I think I scared him.” You said to your mother as the door closed behind him, and the sound of his footsteps as he walked away confirmed that he wouldn't hear you.

“And it's not even Halloween yet, honey.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler #moontober <3 #spencer with glasses x me forever & ever <3

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ceilidho · 11 months ago

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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 4. (read 1, 2, 3) tags: dubcon; nsfw

You only realize after the fact that you may have miscalculated in thinking that this could be a one-time thing between the two of you.

After listening to Johnny bitch and moan during the Christmas party about having to take time off work to spend the holidays with his very religious family, you delude yourself into thinking you’ll finally be able to have some peace and quiet around the store. Not literally, of course. Working during the holidays is always a recipe for exhaustion—parents coming in at the last minute to demand toys that have long since sold out, fights breaking out in every other aisle as customers fight for the last palatable set of Christmas ornaments and boxed fruit cake.

You’re not delusional enough to think that work will be a piece of cake, but you are selfishly a little happy that you’ll finally get some time to breathe without Johnny hovering over your shoulder at all hours of your shift. Seasonal shoppers are as exhausting as always, but you get to sit alone in the breakroom with a cup of coffee in the morning right before your shift without someone staring at you or breathing into your personal bubble.

Johnny spends his entire time off blowing up your phone, sending you pictures of his childhood home, calling you during your breaks, and sending you weird videos that seem to have been filmed entirely in the dark where you can’t see or hear anything apart from some weird squeaks and one loud grunt at the very end of the video that sounds kind of like—you close the video.

You spend the first few days of January dreading his return. The day of is like a shock to your nervous system, the whole morning spent pouring coffee with a trembling hand.

“Hiya gorgeous,” he purrs when you clock in for your shift. You’re somewhat used to Johnny sneaking up behind you, so you don’t flinch this time when you feel the length of his body press up against you at the time clock.

“Johnny, it’s seven in the morning,” you mutter out through pursed lips, shoulders stiff when he puts his hands on them and digs his thumbs into the tender points of your back. You bite back a moan.

“Missed ye, kitten. Cannae believe I went a whole week without hearing you purr.”

He could’ve phrased that a thousand other ways, but he just had to choose the one that would make you wince. He digs his thumbs in again, trying to push the moan out of you, but you tamp it down. You hold back a shudder when he plants his nose onto the crown of your head and inhales, drawing your scent into his lungs.

“Where’ye assigned ta today? Jeff owes me a favour—gonna ask him if I can spend the day with ye so we can catch up.”

You go still when he drops a firm kiss to the side of your head. “I’m…not sure. I haven’t checked the schedule yet.” It’s a half-lie. You may not have checked the schedule yet, but you know from having briefly chatted with your manager this morning in the parking lot where you’ll be spending most of your day.

Still, it means that you get to shake off Johnny for a bit. “Lemme go check for ye, okay, hen? Stay here, a’right?”

You watch him jog off down the hall to the breakroom before finally leaving. It’ll be better for you if you’re gone before he comes back.

The first hour of your day is spent on softlines until Priya in jewellery randomly comes down with a chill and gets sent home early, forcing you to cover her section. Usually that wouldn’t be such a bad deal—it means you get to spend your shift helping people try on bracelets and rings, restocking the earring display, and leaning against the counter for hours at a time. It’s not a particularly busy station.

While you're assigned to the jewellery section though, Johnny pops out of nowhere as you're helping a customer contemplating a birthday ring for his fiancé. With the kind of confidence that you’ve come to expect from Johnny, he uses your hand to model some of the rings, but this time it feels oddly weirdly intense. When he slides the first ring onto your finger, you can feel the way he holds his breath, even shudders a bit. He presses himself right up against you behind the display counter, hardness pressing against your hip.

It doesn’t take long for your customer to leave. Johnny’s demeanour is off-putting, concerning even. You can’t fault the guy for being rightfully repulsed by the way Johnny crowds up against you like you’re alone together.

“What are you doing?” you hiss through your teeth.

“Cannae help it, hen. I ken ye wanna wait, but it jus’ makes me a bit emotional seein’ my girl wearing a ring I put on.”

He blinks down at you with big, blue eyes, the picture of innocence. You should’ve anticipated there being a danger in letting Johnny stew over that on his own. Of course he’d come to his own conclusions, even one as deranged as thinking of your hook up as a step towards dating. You can’t help but side eye him.

“We—we’re not a couple, Johnny.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Ye just let anybody eat you out in the supply closet then? S’that right?” It’s said rhetorically, like he knows the answer already. You flinch at the slight though.

“That was—” you cut yourself off to take a breath, an ache growing behind your forehead, “—that was a…it was a one-time thing. You can’t just act like we’re dating.”

His lips turn down in a pout, displeasure rippling across his face. You brace yourself for the inevitable argument, for shit to hit the fan, because obviously that’s what’s brewing under the surface. You brace yourself for worse too because when you happen to glance around, you realize how few people are actually milling around in the area.

Then, instead of losing his temper, Johnny’s eyes grow smoky, heavy-lidded, and the pout lifts into a lazy, playful grin. “A’right, kitty, no’ dating then. That’s fine wi’ me.”

This time it’s you that frowns, staring up at him dubiously. “…Really?” It feels too sudden, quicksilver. Johnny’s fiery by nature, short tempered on his best days and more likely to grit his teeth and bear the displeasure of not getting his way than happily giving into it. His sudden smile is at odds with the version of him that exists in your mind, furious at you for denying him.

Maybe you’ve got him all wrong.

The gleam in his eye betrays nothing, however. “I swear.” He leans closer to you then, fingers fiddling with the name tag pinned over your chest on your work vest, straightening it. “Doesnae mean we have ta give the rest up though. Ye liked what we did in the closet, right, hen?”

It feels like he’s sucked the air out of the room, as big as it is. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

“Och, c’mon, kitty,” Johnny breathes, hunching just a little over and into your space, making the moment feel private, just the two of you. “Had to talk about it eventually. Did ye just expect that everything would go back to normal after ye let me eat ye out? Hey—” he catches you when you try to make a move to step away from him, wrapping a big hand around your wrist and tugging you closer to him, “—listen, kitty—it doesnae have to be anything serious, right? That’s what’s making ye all jumpy and nervous? I’ll lick your pussy, free of charge. Dinnae need any labels. How’s that sound, kitty? Dick on demand?”

It should repulse you. The way he speaks to you is crass, crude. His voice is hushed, haggard, fur stretched taut over stone—and yet, your hands tremble, just a little. It tempts you. Purring Scottish burr, lapis lazuli eyes, bristle cheeks that you still remember scraping up your inner thighs. He’s a package you can’t imagine sending back.

“You won’t get…you promise not to get weird about it?” you ask.

His smile curls up, impish. “Cross my heart, kitten.”

Maybe you’re delusional enough to think that you can have your cake and eat it too. There’s a voice in your head telling you to face the facts, but you disregard it as if you haven’t been working with Johnny for months. As if you aren’t aware of his penchant for saying or doing anything to get his way. It’s maybe naive of you.

All you know is that he smothers a laugh when you tell him you’ll think about it. Knows he’s got you right where he wants.

You don’t fight when he drags you into the single-stall bathroom towards the end of your shift, letting him position you in front of the mirror before sinking to his knees behind you. Forces you to watch the way you come apart on his tongue, not giving you his fingers until you beg him to, the whispered plea a hairsbreadth away from becoming a scream.

“Oh, did she miss me?” Johnny breathes, a happy laugh in his voice when he runs the broad side of his tongue over your entrance from the back. “Fuck, look at that. Winked at me ‘n everythin’. Hi darling, missed ye too.”

You don’t think you’ll ever be the same after hearing that come out of his mouth. You go hot all over again when you clench involuntarily, equal parts turned on and horrified. He sniggers before trying to cram his whole tongue up into you.

There’s a moment of panic when Johnny draws up behind you after making you come and you hear him undo his pants. There’s nowhere for you to go with your pants still looped around your ankles, underwear pulled all the way down as well. You hear yourself hiss a startled Johnny when he slots a fat cock between your thighs, staring dumbly at the reflection of him behind you. At your back, he seems massive, lean and trim but towering over you, broad.

He shushes you. “Dinnae be selfish, hen—gotta get mine too. Jus’ gonna fuck your thighs, dinnae fret.”

You squeak when he pushes your thighs together forcefully, dragging his cock over your folds to wet himself. Watching Johnny fuck is nothing like staring down at him when he eats you out. He pants harsh and ragged into the side of your head, nips at your ear. The glint in his eyes goes animalistic, vacant. Human desire recedes, subsumed into the animal part of his brain with the single-minded need to fuck.

The only thing keeping him from driving up into you, accidentally or not, is the way you keep your thighs pressed together. A warm, tight channel for him to push his cock into. Thick fingers dig into your waist, sure to leave bruises. You wince when lean hips pound against your backside, growing frantic as need overtakes him. You flirt at the edge of panic, certain that at any second, he’ll pull your thighs apart and nudge the head of his cock up into you.

“Jus’ like that, fuck,” he grunts. “Be a good little fuckin’ girl and jus’ let me—”

His tongue lolls out on a particularly rough thrust, hands groping over your belly and up to your chest, slipping his hand under your shirt and bra to pinch your nipple. He twists it mean, nasty, until you have no choice but to grunt through grit teeth, eyes watering. You feel like a doll meant for his pleasure, no choice but to grip the sides of the sink and let Johnny use you until he comes.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, eyes going half-lidded. “Love makin’ this pussy come. Love gettin’ her all messy and wet. Lettin’ me between your thighs even when I make ye nervous—fuck, ‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

White come stripes the sink in front of you, thick and viscous. Paints the inside of your thighs as well when he drags his hips back until just the head of his cock sits nestled up against your sex. Hyperconscious of where it tags your inner lips, that there’s no barrier between the two of you, just come and skin.

The full body shake shocks you, a ripple from your heels to the top of your head.

His free hand grasps you by the hair when you try to slip away. “Ye gonna clean up your mess, baby?”

You glance back up at his reflection in the mirror, trying to suss him out. Shark-like eyes meet yours. Something you’ve seen in glances before finally staring back at you with full force. You reach for the paper towel dispenser with a shaking hand.

“Nah,” Johnny scolds, giving you a shake. “With your mouth.”

The command hangs in the air, no joke or laugh to undercut it. His eyes read serious to you, still dark. No leniency present in the blue.

You stare down at his come on the sink, slack-jawed. “You don’t seriously mean—”

“Jus’ kidding, silly,” he chuckles, giving a teasing bite to your earlobe and tugging. The tension in the air disperses. “Got ye, huh?”

You force a laugh. “Yeah…got me.”

#i cant believe this shit is at 10k and i still have another part to write #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x you #soap/reader #ikea soap

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huhmiya · 4 months ago

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DRIVER LICENSE | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: where chris finally obtained his driver's license after years of waiting, but during your first ride with him, he couldn't resist the urge to explore something else.

warning: smut, car sex, swearing, pet names (ma, mama, baby, darling, pretty girl, sweetheart), sub!chris, p in v, dirty talking, hand job, needy chris

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. bro needs his driver license though. OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE STURNIOLO TRIPLETS!!

WORDS: 2.1k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

Matt had always teased Chris about not having his driver's license, especially since he was turning twenty one in less than a week. Little did anyone know, he had been taking driving lessons and had finally obtained his driver's license.

His brothers and you were surprised, but happy for him nonetheless. You couldn't help but wonder how long he had kept this secret, especially since he had even bought a car without telling anyone.

At this moment though, you were in his room, running your hands through his hair in a way that made his eyes roll back in pleasure sometimes.

You were watching a movie together when he suddenly suggested going for a night drive. He trusted himself to drive with you, even though he would need to focus a lot since he had just started driving on his own without an instructor.

"Do you want to go for a night drive?" he asked, shifting slightly to look into your eyes while making sure not to disturb your hands in his hair.

"I don't mind, why do you want to?" you say, and he nods, a smile on his lips. It was reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, but it was a pleasant, contagious smile.

"Are you going to drive?" you ask, and he simply nods again, closing his eyes as your fingers lightly massage his scalp, providing a sense of comfort.

You watch him as he shifts to get out of bed, and you follow suit, changing while Chris casually throws on a shirt over his sweatpants.

He grabs his car keys from the bedside table and then looks at you. "You look fine, baby, no need to get all dolled up," he chuckles, gazing at you.

You smile and listen to his advice, slipping on your shoes while he wears sandals with white socks. You glance at him from head to toe but say nothing, a small smile playing on your lips.

He had just left his room, but he held the door open for you to go first. He smiled and followed you downstairs once you thanked him and walked past, but you waited for him to go ahead after reaching the bottom of the stairs.

He then gently places his hand around your waist and wrapped his arm around you as you both headed to the garage to unlock his car.

You settled into the passenger seat while he took the driver's seat. You chuckled to yourself, which prompted him to look at you in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"I don't feel like I'm with you, it feels like I'm sitting next to Matt," you teased. He just rolled his eyes and playfully hit you in response.

“You're an asshole," he says before starting to drive. He had been nervous about it since he was still new to driving, and there was an unusual feeling in his chest because he was scared of making a mistake. However, he tried to push those thoughts away.

As he began driving, he decided to stop at a nearby shop first so both of you could grab some snacks before figuring out what to do and where to go.

You observed him focusing, finding it new to see your boyfriend behind the wheel, which definitely made him look more attractive.

His blue eyes were fixed on the road, his hands on the wheel showing prominent veins, his messy hair, a small smile on his lips, and the way he quickly glanced at you now and then to make sure you were okay.

He was parked close to the shop and quickly asked, "Wanna come in with me?" Your eyes met his before nodding, and he smiled as he headed towards the car, with you following suit.

As you both strolled towards the shop, he locked the car with the keys and then casually placed his hand on your backside as you entered the corner shop.

"Are you sure you're alright, darling?" he murmured, noticing your silence, but he didn't press further. He simply kissed your forehead.

You found it difficult to resist him any longer - his strong hands, his soothing voice, his masculine scent, and his protective nature all stirred a desire within you.

"I'm okay, I promise," you chuckled softly as he went to grab some snacks, and you tagged along, feeling like he was guiding you. He selected snacks for you and him, insisted on paying, even though you offered to contribute.

He carried the items, holding your hand with his free hand, not allowing you to carry anything. You obediently followed him to the car and sat in the passenger seat as he had instructed.

“Do you know where we're going now, sweetheart?” he asked as he finally settled in his car, gazing at you and gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and relaxing, though your eyes was filled with love and more, as he had seen before.

He continued to look at you a moment longer before kissing your lips, causing you to pull back slightly, but you couldn't due to he made you to stay so your lips are connected to his.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, his hands moved to your hair as he drew you closer, despite the constraints of the gear shift and other obstacles.

“Why do you look so beautiful tonight? You always are, but perhaps it's just the lighting that's making you look so stunning right now,” he whispered against your lips.

He eventually pulled away and removed his shirt, feeling a strong desire for you but managing to restrain himself, asking first, “Are you as turned on as I am?” he inquired.

You chuckled softly, nodded, and took control as he leaned in to kiss your lips. You grabbed his belt, pulling him closer, and kissed his lips quickly before drawing back.

“Want to take this to the back seat?” You suggest, and he simply gazes into your eyes before a smile forms on his lips, which quickly turns into a smirk.

Without saying a word, he climbs into the backseat, and you follow suit, pinning him down and kissing him passionately. His hands move to your backside, gripping it tightly.

“How much do you want me?” you whisper against his lips as you pull back slightly, meeting his blue eyes.

“Really badly, ma,” he mutters, his cheeks turning red. He reaches for your head, pulling you in for another kiss, to which you eagerly respond.

As you both explore each other's mouths, his hands roam over your body, unsure of where to settle. When you eventually break the kiss, he lets out a small whine, keeping his gaze fixed on you, uncertain of your next move.

You remove his shirt, exposing his chest as his fingers graze your shirt. It seems like he's nervous but trying to appear confident.

You remained silent but let out a small chuckle before gently brushing his hair away from his face, causing him to smile.

Soon after, you removed your own shirt, his eyes fixed on your body. Without hesitation, he ran his hand over your boobs, since you haven’t been wearing a bra due to your wearing pajamas before leaving the house.

"Shit, mama," he whispered, gazing at your breasts, unable to tear his eyes away. You simply smirked before kissing his jaw.

A soft moan escaped him as he leaned into your touch, his hand now moving to your hair, tenderly stroking it. However, he found it hard to concentrate, so enthralled was he by your touch.

"Y/n... please," he whispered, struggling to articulate his thoughts. You gazed at him after breaking away from his jawline.

"Look at you... can't even speak properly," you teased, causing him to meet your gaze and squint, though he bit his lip to suppress a smile.

You removed his sweatpants, causing his heart to race faster as you saw his arousal growing due to your actions.

You gently grasped his erection and began to stroke him, eliciting shivers and heavy breathing from him.

"Y/N, oh god, baby, I'm going to cum if you continue," he whimpered, locking eyes with you and then glancing at where your hand was around him.

Pre-cum dripped from his cock, indicating his intense excitement for you. He was unable to contain himself any longer, feeling as though he was being teased.

His legs were trembling slightly as you stroked him, and when you kissed his neck, occasionally nibbling on it, he let out louder moans that were particularly noticeable because you were in his new car.

"Y/N, please fuck me! Please, baby! I'll do anything," he cried out, pulling his own hair as he loved when you did it, pretending his hands were yours.

"So needy for me, I love that from you," you said as you pulled away from his neck, his eyes filled with passion and pleasure.

You continued to stroke him a little longer before pulling away. He whimpered, but then he watched as your hands moved to remove your remaining clothes.

His mouth watered, he bit his lip, and he couldn't help but gaze at your naked body, trying not to moan just from the sight.

"Oh, God," he whispered to himself, unable to resist putting his hands on your body, rubbing your ass, and then moving close to your thighs.

"I just need you to ride me! Please, Y/N," he said, his eyes filled with vulnerability that you loved.

You didn’t hesitate at all, you didn’t want to waste any time. As his hands moved to your hips, you positioned yourself more comfortably against him, feeling his cock covered in pre-cum.

He arched his back when he felt you wrap around him, and you moaned softly as his breath caught. "That's it, sweetheart," he whispered.

His size stretched you, and it took a moment to adjust, but you began rocking your hips, causing his eyes to widen and his moans to grow louder.

"Do you like that?" you asked with a smirk, holding his chest as you increased the pace, eliciting another loud moan from him as you added your own small moans to the mix.

He was rendered speechless as you noticed his heart racing in your hand, but you continued to ride him. Unable to withstand it any longer, he was on the verge of climaxing but held back. His hands reached up to move your hair away from your face.

"Pretty girl," he whispered before releasing a soft moan. You bit your lip to stifle your own moans, feeling his cock pulsating inside you, indicating he was close.

"Me too, baby, me too," you responded, knowing exactly what he meant. Unsure of where to place his hands, he ran them over your body.

As you continued to ride him, planting kisses on his chest and leaving a few hickeys, he whimpered and moaned louder.

"I can't hold it any longer, y/n," he softly confessed, signaling his impending orgasm. You simply hummed in agreement.

His grip tightened as he climaxed inside you, reassured it was safe from pregnancy. He let out a loud moan, rolling his eyes with his mouth agape.

You continue to ride him, causing him to shake as he struggles to catch his breath. His hands tremble on your thighs as you keep riding him towards your climax.

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you surrendered to the sensation, covering his cock with a mix of mutual pleasure.

A loud moan escaped you, causing him to glance at you with a small smile before tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Just lay on top of me," he whispered, guiding you gently to relax as you slowed your racing heart. He continued to stroke your hair while your thumb grazed his chest.

Your sweaty bodies pressed against each other, yet neither of you seemed to mind. Chris shifted slightly to locate your clothes and remembered that he had parked somewhere while you both had been entangled in the backseat.

"Darling, we need to get dressed. We have to head home," he said softly before tenderly kissing your lips.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

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silverselfshippingchaos · 8 months ago

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Hear me out 😳

........... so, hypothetically, in a hypothetical situation in which i were to say i think a.dam j.ensen was hot as shit, how would we feel?

#ash rambles 💚#THE THOUGHTS... THEY'RE NONSTOP..#gamers i have it so bad #i feel a little nervous though since i know he's been through a lot+ there's a few other girls in canon he seemed to be head over heels for #it feels weird i dont wanna make it seem like I'm forcing him into anything akdjaksjs he needs a lot of time to heal from #what canon puts him through #but that asife #*aside #AHSKAHDKAJSKA #ADAM JENSEN.. SIR... ONE CHANCE.. PLEASE....#he's so handsome... AND THAT VOICE....#I'll come up with a funny tag later #ive gotta go to class now bye!#as human as it gets 🦾

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randomshyperson · 4 months ago

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Saw your drabble list challenge thingie, here's my request, absolutely no pressure or whatsoever though.

Wanda + hugs + no. 24

Your writing makes me so giddy and warm, like a school girl kicking her legs while reading dork diaries.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging with height difference | warnings: none.

The team had thrown a big party to celebrate your return.

Wanda was feeling a bit out of the loop. Of course, she was relieved and genuinely happy that you were back, safe, and with little more than a few scratches on your face. But the setting, a room full of Avengers and anyone else Tony Stark could get at such short notice, wasn't exactly her scene.

Besides, Wanda barely had time to see you. Your sudden arrival at the compound was as quick as your departure - Shield had a lot of questions about your last mission. And the brief wave and a whisper of "see you later" was the only greeting Wanda received.

She forced herself to go to the party - Out of consideration for you and also because the Black Widow had politely persuaded her to attend.

But going didn't mean participating, and Wanda spent most of the night hiding in the bar while you told people all about your adventures in space with Captain Danvers and the God of Thunder - the latter seemed quite happy to have the attention stolen since he could focus on his fiancée Jane, instead of fawning guests.

Wanda hadn't seen Carol since she arrived, and she wished you had been as quick as the captain in escaping the guests.

Her patience grew thin as the night went on. In fact, Wanda could have stopped pouting at any moment and gone to greet you (Natasha's words, not hers) but she ended up being overcome by introversion, and the pain in her feet from the heels she chose, so just before they cut your cake - a birthday lost due to your time out of the planet - she sneaked out.

She could talk to you tomorrow. Or any other day, when she no longer has that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she imagines herself under your attention, talking directly to you, or being alone in your presence.

The path to the room is lonely since that side of the compound is empty due to the party. She holds her heels in her right hand but almost drops them on the floor when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opens, and you stumble out, breathless as if you were running to catch up with it.

"Hey, Wanda!" Your face lights up with a mix of happiness and relief, having managed to find her, so close to her bedroom door. She shifted her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. You tried to seem less flustered. "I can't believe you ran away from my party."

Wanda only realized how much she missed having you torment her when you did it again. She felt a lump form in her throat, surprising herself with the sudden urge to cry. You sighed immediately, as affected to see her again as she was.

"Sorry." She murmurs hoarsely. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I know.” You give her a small smile, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she notices your footsteps toward her. “I guess I’m the one who should apologize. For not coming to talk to you sooner.”

She shakes her head. “You seemed busy.”

“Busy for my best friend? Never.” You assure her, earning a tearful laugh from her. Wanda isn’t surprised when your hands find her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. It was the first thing you did for her so long ago, back in a cell in Sokovia when you first met her, and something you’ve done ever since whenever she thinks of Pietro. You frown, worried about her tears, and Wanda sniffs softly, trying to control her emotions. “Did I say something wrong?”

She brings her free hand to your left wrist, massaging your skin with her thumb, while your hands linger on her cheeks, caressing the damp skin. “It’s just… so good to see you again.” She confesses, smiling through her tears. "You took a while."

"The longest months of my life, believe me." You comment, offering her a small smile. There's a quick exchange of glances between you. Wanda thinks she imagines your eyes falling to her lips before you sigh and look at her with such affection that she feels her heart swell. "Come here, Wands."

She doesn't need to be told twice. It's not the first time she's hugged you, but it's only the third. The first time, you carried her in your arms away from a fallen city, and Wanda let her arms wrap around your neck. She couldn't even tell if it could be considered a hug, but it meant the world to her. The second, the first real hug, was on impulse after long training sessions in the tower and you were on enough adrenaline to forget about your super strength. Wanda complained softly, and you never hugged her again after a series of apologies.

But tonight, you wrapped your arms around her. Gentle at first, then as tight as you could. Wanda let her heels slide to the floor, her hands moving up to your back. The height difference between her and a Kryptonian was considerable, but it only made everything more perfect. She didn’t think much, just buried her face against your chest, inhaling deeply and letting her body relax into your hold.

Your fingers wrapped around her hair, massaging her scalp and running through the strands as she felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. She could no longer tell if it was emanating from you or her.

"I really missed you, witchy."

She nodded softly at your words, her heart racing in her chest. She realized at that moment that there was no way to put into words the feeling that your absence caused her. She sighed, tightening the hug a little. You seemed to understand exactly what she meant.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #writing challenge #wanda maximoff imagines #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #what do you mean i forgot to post idk what you are talking about

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sweetimpurity · 4 months ago

Text

Older Neighbor Miguel Part 3 NSFW!!

Part 1 Part 2

a/n: w.c. is 2.5k and it's longer than I thought it would be but I'm gagged and obsessed. Hope you like it! Might just tease you guys a little longer <3

The sun shines through the window, golden hues cascading over the blankets, your legs on the bed, the soft pillows warm after bathing in the light. It’s morning. It’s been a few days and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that dream. It’s ingrained in your mind, the feeling of him, his voice, the look in his eyes. It almost makes the embarrassment of being seen half naked melt away. You’re almost glad it happened. It felt so real, making your thighs squeeze together at the memory. You head downstairs to start the morning, finding your parents at the kitchen table.

“Morning…” You smile softly, greeting them, walking over to the kitchen counter. Glancing out the window, at his yard. His house. Seeing if any of the windows are open, if he’s outside. Just a glimpse of him would get you hot. “Oh, honey…” Your mom starts, walking to the sink and putting her plate down. “I hope you don’t mind but I volunteered you to do some babysitting. Would you be up for it tomorrow, 3 to 8?” She asks kindly. You’ve babysat a lot of kids in the neighborhood since high school and your mom is close to a lot of the parents around. Figuring maybe it’s the Scott family again down the street since they have so many kids; always needing childcare. “Yeah I can do it. I’ll text Lisa and tell her I will.” You nod, taking a sip of orange juice and looking over at the breakfast your dad’s made. “Oh, it’s not the Scott’s, it’s Gabriella next door… O’hara?” She asks and you choke on the juice in your mouth, almost spitting it out. Your dad instantly asks if you’re okay when you suddenly start choking like an idiot. “Yeah- no yeah I’m fine-” You cough over the sink, eyes wide, clearing your throat, your mind spinning, heart thumping.

“Miguel has a late meeting that day and I offered for you to help him out. And he said he’ll pay.” She says, but you can’t handle this. You wonder how he feels about that. He didn’t outright ask for your help but seems like he didn’t refuse it either. He’ll pay? What the hell is going on? “Uh… yeah. I can do it.” You say, feeling a bit nervous about it but also weirdly excited. To see him. To be near him. Gabriella is also a really sweet girl so you know watching her for a few hours will be a breeze.

Your parents leave for their respective duties, leaving you at home. And all you can do is think about him. The dream you had. It’s embarrassing now, since he probably just thinks you’re a weirdo who walks around in her underwear. He probably got second hand embarrassment. You should be dreading seeing him again. But you can’t help but crave it. Crave him.

…

“Shit.” He had muttered after talking to your mom across the fence. When she elected you to babysit his daughter after he mentioned in passing not having anyone to watch her after school tomorrow and his ex is out of town. He should have said no, to spare you both the embarrassment. He almost had a hard time looking your mother in the eye when she said it. Knowing he’d had a dream about fucking you nights before. He shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, although they keep happening. You’re so pretty and young, fresh out of college and he feels like a creep for seeing you in your underwear like that. Even if it was an accident. What will you think?

He can’t help but feel this tension across the fence. Like there's an electric current from your house to his, even though the two of you haven’t even seen each other since the incident. Maybe he’s imagining it. You’d probably never feel the same way. “What…?” He mutters, looking down at the mail he’s been absentmindedly sorting while he’s thinking all of this over. This isn't his mail. This has your dad’s name written all over it.

He trudges out of the house, walking across the yard to your house. Checking your mailbox to see if his mail was also accidentally delivered here. A simple mixup, probably a new mail delivery person. When he sees the mailbox empty, he walks up the walkway to your front door. Preparing for your dad’s usual grumbles about the mail always being screwed up and packages being late. Knocking on the door. His eyes widening when your pretty face answers.

…

“Oh sorry- hi good morning.” He says, a stack of mail in hand and like a deer in headlights. His and your hearts nearly stop. He should’ve known you’d answer the door, but it’s like he’s in a daze. You’ve been thinking about him all day and then he just shows up at the door? He’s a big man. Tall and broad. So seeing that look on his face and hearing his words just spilling out like he can’t stop them. It’s endearing.

“Hi!” You reply once you find the voice to speak. Swallowing hard and looking up at him. Fuck, he’s hot. He looks like he’s on his way to work. Something smart with science in a tall office building in the middle of the city. White button down tucked into his pants, leather belt and sharp, handsome brown shoes; and the smell of his aftershave mixed with cologne wafts in through the open door. And here you are, in your pajamas, a tank and some little shorts. It’s the middle of summer, but why does this keep having to happen? He shows up all the times you’re barely clothed. This time there’s nowhere to hide. “So I… got your mail by accident. Here you go.” He says, reaching the stack of envelopes across the threshold. His dark eyes scan over your face when you look down. He wonders if you’re wearing those pink panties right now. “Thanks, wow must have just been a mistake then?” You look up and he nods, not even having heard what you said because he was distracted looking at you. Your hair, your bare shoulders and way your breasts sit so perfect and pretty in your tank top. He remembers seeing them spill out of that bra. Beautiful and soft looking. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I’m creeping on you.

“I think… you might have my mail too? I didn’t see any in the box.” He says after clearing his throat. Your mom got the mail this morning and she must not have had the chance to look at it very closely. “Yeah, maybe let me go see.”

When you turn away, he has to force himself to stop watching your ass, your hips and the way they sway. Is it obvious that I’m drooling over you?

It’s obvious. And you can’t stop the satisfaction you feel, grabbing that stack of mail off the kitchen counter and knowing you’ve got this big man on a leash right now. This could be fun. You take a deep breath, calming your thumping heart and return. “Here it is!”

He smiles when you return, his hands clasped in front of him because of the thoughts going through his mind right now. He’s a man, not a teenage boy. And yet here you are, you’re this young thing making him feel all horny and hormonal.

“Thank you... oh and thank you for offering to watch Gabriella tomorrow, I know it’s short notice.” He adds, hoping you’re cool with it. Wondering what’s going on in your head. “No problem, she’s sweet, I’d be happy to help.” You nod, smiling up at him knowingly and it makes him feel a little warm. “Well she’s excited too” He nods. It’s not a lie. Gabi’s always trying to talk to you when she sees you around. She’s seven and loves asking about where you got your shoes, your new dresses and how you do your makeup. She’s a very cute little girl, very polite too.

He debates bringing up what happened a few days ago. But it seems like things are cool and you’re not totally freaked out. That’s good.

…

Tomorrow comes, and at three you head over to his house. Walking across the yard and to the door, using the spare key he gave to your parents in case of an emergency. Waiting a bit until Gabi gets home off the bus and making lunch with her. Talking about all the little things her mind comes up with. She thinks it’s cool to talk about girly stuff with a girl that’s older. She just thinks you’re the coolest. She was just waiting for school to end until she could come home and hang out with you. To feel like a big kid.

It’s funny being in his home. You’ve never really been inside like this since they moved in. But you’ve also been away at college for most of that time too. You catch a glimpse of his bedroom as you walk by, the dark sheets and neatly folded blankets. His shoes at the door. Mostly dress shoes but a few pairs of beat up Nike’s, his shoe size impressive. You can’t resist opening the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, pulling the cap off his cologne and smelling it. The scent is like a drug to your brain. It just smells like a man. Maybe you’re creeping on him a little in return.

Soon the time is nearly 8pm and you’re helping Gabriella into bed. She really is a sweet girl and you’ve learned so much about her and her life. A lot of things that let you know Miguel is a really good dad. All the memories she’d recall with him, vacations and school projects, along with little things like trips to the park and him taking her to work with him. You studied all the family photos on the wall. Most of them of Miguel and Gabriella, some with what looks to be Miguel’s parents and his brother maybe? There’s one photo with his ex in it. It’s in Gabi’s room next to her bed. She’s a beautiful woman, undeniably. Definitely his same age and you can’t help but wonder about the history. Would you have a chance with someone like Miguel who’s already lived a whole life? He’s got everything worked out already and you haven’t even started yet.

You don’t even know why you have these thoughts. When did the thought of sleeping with him turn into spending your life with the guy? It could all just be fun. If you do manage to sleep with him, it should just be for fun. Because after listening to his little girl talk about how wonderful he is; looking at the pictures on the wall; even observing the way he sets up his home, the color of the pillows on the couch, the dish rack by the kitchen sink, the settings on the kitchen table. This man’s a man. You’d fall in love with him so quick and easy.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the front door opening. Gabriella is settled in bed by now and your job here is done. Waiting in the kitchen and giving him time to adjust. Smiling to yourself.

He stops at the kitchen door after walking in. His work clothes as attractive and sharp as always. His hair slightly less kempt than it probably was this morning. “Hey…how’d it go?” He greets, undoing the buttons at his wrist and rolling his sleeves up a bit, it’s been a long day. He leans against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. “Hi. Gabi’s in bed.” You smile, you could suck the soul out of him right now.

“How was she?” He asks, unable to stop his eyes from roaming your pretty face. Could you be wearing those pink panties right now? Why must he have these thoughts? “She was perfect… She's so sweet. We painted our nails and I helped her with her homework.”

“Wow… busy day.” He nods, walking across the kitchen, past you to the fridge. His cologne wafting past you. “What do I owe you? What’s your usual rate?” He asks, grabbing sparkling water from the fridge. “Oh it’s fine, you don’t need to pay me. You get the next door discount.” You joke.

“No, I insist. I said I would pay.” He chuckles softly, twisting off the cap and drinking some from the frosted cool bottle; your eyes flicking to his forearms, tanned and toned. “How about… $200?” He offers, and your eyes blow wide. “$200 for five hours? No way… that’s too much” You shake your head, but he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. That’s like $40 an hour.

“Here… I have it right here.” He holds out two hundreds from his wallet. The money just appearing. “No I… it’s too much.” You refuse, not taking it. He can’t believe this. He’d spend a thousand dollars on you to get you anything you want. He’d love to do it with the way he’s been thinking about you for days. It’s no issue for him. And here you are refusing. He places it on the kitchen counter between the two of you, sliding it across. Your heart thumps in your chest. Your hand goes out, hovering over the bills before sliding it back to him. “Just pay for my dinner instead.”

“Dinner…” His heart pounds in his ears. He has to make a choice. If he takes the money back, he agrees to do as you ask. Pay for your dinner. Take you out. He’s hoping that’s what that means. He’d get a chance to get closer to you and know you wanted him too. He could entertain this little thing going on between you two. Or. He could slide the money back and insist you take it. Go home and that will be the end of it. Refusing the chance to have you, to take you.

He slides the money back towards himself. Scooping it up and putting it back in his wallet. Success you think. You smile to yourself, feeling so satisfied. “We can be in touch?” You say and it’s at this moment he’s wrapped around your finger. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“I guess I’ll be seeing you.” You say and grab your bag off the kitchen table. Slinging it over your shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. O’hara.”

If you hadn’t turned to leave, you’d have seen him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. Mr. O’hara. Just like his dream. Your sweet voice as he sheathed inside you. This is too much. He hears the front door close, letting out a deep breath and rubbing his forehead. “Hah…”

He checks on Gabriella who’s sleeping peacefully in her bed. Going to his bedroom and winding down for the night. Unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off along with his tank top underneath. Walking to the bathroom in his boxers to brush his teeth. He stands in front of the sink, in the dim light of the bathroom, only the nightlight illuminating the tile. Opening the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush and something falls out. He looks down, flicking on the light when he sees it. A pile of pink and lace on the porcelain. He reaches down without a second thought, your panties dangling off of his fingers. What have I gotten myself into?

taglist: @miguels-cock-piercings @sana-4 @peachey-pie @milkyardbetter @chrissymodi-frost

@pxtched @izakopanyi2 @lazyjellyfish300

@nina-from-317 @bammzyboomy @naomihaha2099 @bruh-anator3000 @buttertubz

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spideyjimin · 1 year ago

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Right time | jjk

⤷ part of the timing series

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader

⏤ genre: parent au, exes to lovers, ceo au, angst, fluff, and smut

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: dilf!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, nervousness, swearing, mention of sex, sexual tension, teasing, mention of jk being a fuckboy, mention of breakup, mention of heartbreak, mention of death, mention of grief, crying, mention of sadness, dry humping, masturbation, mention of heartbreak, oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, mention of going through a though time, broken hearts, mention of suffering, mention of unhappiness, and heartbreak

⏤ words: 10,724

⏤ summary: following your reunion with jungkook, getting back together seems to be the right thing to do however everything is different. jungkook is a father, running the company you’re working for, and there are still things to be solved. nonetheless, it can’t erase the tremendous physical attraction between you. is it now the right or wrong time?

⏤ author’s note: this part is finally out! it's been quite some work but it's finally out and all yours! since it's finally posted, I can already let you know that there will be a third part called perfect time. the teaser will be posted tomorrow 😬 i hope you like this part, let me know what you think! thanks a lot for your support & for waiting patiently for this part 💛

To say that Jungkook was nervous was an understatement. He’s going out on a date with you. He’s literally screaming on the inside like a 5-year-old that finally got the candy they were asking for. He’s been waiting for this for years and also, he hasn’t been on a proper date in a while. But he’s very much excited.

“Hi,” you say as you step outside of the apartment complex.

A bright smile appears on both of your faces when you see each other. Honestly, having had sex a couple of days ago brought some happiness to your lives. You’ve been feeling more alive than ever, and nothing can erase that feeling. Well, at least, that’s what you thought.

There are still things left to discuss but right now, you’re both on cloud 9 so you don’t feel the necessity to talk. You simply want to stay in your little cloud a little longer which means that you’ll do everything to stay there.

“Hi, yn,” Jungkook offers you the bouquet he’s holding in his hands.

“Thanks for the flowers,” you reply as you take the bouquet.

Your eyes move from Jungkook to the flower arrangement, it’s a very pretty one. This kind of surprises you since Jungkook never bought you flowers when you dated before but you have to forget about the past. Things are different now as you both are very different people today.

“Arya helped me choose them,” the smile on his face grows bigger while remembering being in the flower shop with her.

At first, he was planning to go alone to buy you flowers but then, he was spending the day with his daughter so he brought her up to have her little opinion. Now, she’s staying at her mama’s place for the 3 upcoming days. Jungkook hasn’t mentioned anything about you to Eunji yet but for sure, Arya will mention the bouquet to her mother so he’s very much aware that he’ll have to at least explain something to Eunji.

“Well, you both have good taste in flowers,” you quickly smell the beautiful bouquet.

“She’s my daughter so she definitely has good tastes,” he instantaneously answers.

A little laugh leaves your lips at his words. That’s easy to say when it’s your own daughter, you think but his words also warm your heart. It’s so sweet that he let his daughter assist him in choosing a bouquet of flowers for you. And it’s also extremely sweet how he speaks about her.

“Your tastes can be very much questionable,” you tease him.

With surprise, he raises an eyebrow. He definitely wasn’t expecting to hear you say those words but he’s undeniably liking being teased by the woman he loves deeply.

“If mines are questionable, then yours are dubious,” he doesn’t hesitate to reply, “especially your taste in men,” he adds.

“For sure, it is because I’m still wondering how on earth I could have fallen for you,” you end up laughing.

But the truth is how you could have not fallen for him. It’s easy to love him, and it feels even easier to be loved by this man. There are for sure many things to say about your love for him but it’d take you probably days or weeks or even more to list all the reasons you fell hard for him.

“That’s exactly what I was referring to,” he adds. “Not sure how you fell for me, especially back then.”

Hearing him saying that inevitably breaks your heart, even if he’s joking. For sure, back then, he wasn’t the best person on earth, he was a fuckboy after all. He was very much known on the campus for being the guy who fucks every girl he meets, and for being a heartbreaker. But he was perfect for you. Beyond that image of fuckboy, he was the sweetest guy you had ever met.

“Don’t say that,” you gently slap him on the arm.

“I’m serious, I don’t know what you saw in me when we started dating,” his stare becomes quite sincere.

Now, your heart is very much broken by his words. This man doesn’t even see how pretty and amazing he is. But beyond that, he’s without any doubt the most brilliant person you��ve ever met. Even back then, what charmed you was his mind and heart. It was never about his looks because if it was for that, you wouldn’t have approached him at all. He was a fuckboy, the kind of guy that you hated.

“I saw your heart underneath all those walls,” you say before placing your hand on his chest, right above his heart.

Jungkook places his hand on top of yours. He can’t even express what he’s feeling right now but he’s absolutely sure of one thing, he feels lucky to be with you here and now. His hand caresses yours, both of you with a little smile on your faces. This moment is undeniably heartwarming for the two of you.

“But you were the only person that I let in,” he whispers. “You’re the only one that got to see who I truly was.”

At his words, you inevitably squeeze him in your arms for a tight hug, your head pressed against his chest. It surprises him but he holds you back. While hugging you, it reminds him just how much he missed it. When you were together, you used to hug each other a lot. It brought a lot of peace to the two of you, it was a moment where everything would disappear for an instant. It was a moment of pure happiness.

Just as it is right now.

None of you want this moment to end. This feels extremely good. You hold him even tighter in your arms, you don’t desire to let go of him. You close your eyes to enjoy this moment even more. This is something you also missed deeply. Well, to be honest, you deeply missed Jungkook. Maybe more than you’ll ever admit.

“I love this,” you whisper very low.

Jungkook hears it and can’t help but smile even more. He doesn’t say anything, he’s simply enjoying this moment with you. Hopefully, this won’t be a one-time thing. He’s hopeful that you’ll get to do this more often. Because a hug always heals a heart.

“We should probably get going,” Jungkook says before pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head.

With a heavy heart, you pull away from the man you love. You walk to his car and he opens the door for you. Feeling like a princess, you enter his priceless car. It’s undoubtedly a very expensive car but as a CEO, he can afford tons of luxurious stuff. Your eyes wander around, admiring this wonderful and expensive car.

Jungkook jumps in the car seconds after you. His eyes take in the pretty girl sitting on the passenger seat. That’s a sight he never thought he’d get to see and it absolutely warms his softened heart. Hopefully, from now on, this will be a view he’ll see more often. His face turns to the windshield to start driving.

For the two of you, being here right now brings you back to ten years ago. Your ex-boyfriend would drive you everywhere, it would always be good. Most of the time, you’d sing along to songs he’d chosen but he’d always take the ones you two liked. Some other times, you’d have intense conversations about random topics or yourselves. Tons of talks took place in his previous car, even hard conversations.

Honestly, you’re feeling a bit nervous. It’s exciting to be with him at the moment however, you’re a bit fearful that an unpleasant topic of conversation will be brought up. Even if you’re on cloud 9, you’re still very much aware that there are a lot of things to be talked about. You broke his heart, that’s not something that can be erased with some conversations and sex. For sure, sex isn’t the answer to his broken heart.

But right now, you don’t want to think about it, so you brush away any sour thoughts. You’re on a date with him and you should enjoy it as much as you possibly can. This will maybe help you to get to a better place.

“How have your parents been doing?” he asks, his eyes quickly looking at you.

Following the kind of ‘closure’ conversation you had at his place, he kept wondering how your parents were doing, especially after the death of one of their children. Even though it’s been 10 years since your sister passed away, it must still be very hard for them. He can only imagine how it feels. He’d stop living if Arya passed away, his life wouldn’t make any sense without her, and his heart would be beyond broken.

“Now, they are kind of doing better,” you reply. “But losing a child is something that changed them completely, they aren’t the same and I strongly believe they’ll never fully grieve.”

Your heart breaks as you recall all the times you found your parents crying over your sister. Things haven’t been easy since that tragic day but you’ve always been there for them. They also have been very much present for you. It was hard for all of you because you all lost someone very dear to you. But today, days are better. It’s easier to smile, to enjoy little things in life, and to simply live.

“I lost a sister and it’s already very awful but losing a child…” you start saying while shaking a bit your head. “I don’t even want to imagine the tremendous void that it leaves in your heart.”

You haven’t had a child yet so this is a kind of pain that you cannot understand. But she was your sister. It was still a very painful loss and for sure, something you were never prepared to face. However, with time, you started getting used to the constant ache inside your heart. It’s there, all the time, and some days, it destroys you. During those moments, missing her becomes too overwhelming.

“I’m still very sorry for your loss,” he tells you.

He quickly glances at you. As your eyes meet, you can tell that he’s extremely sincere. When he breaks contact, you stare at the wonderful night sky. Right now, you’re feeling extremely nostalgic. Being in a car with Jungkook brings you back to when your sister was still alive. After a little outing with your boyfriend, you’d come home and find her reading a book in her bed. That thought alone brings tears to your eyes.

Before you can even realize it, tears are rolling down your face. Now all you can see is her face with a bright smile while she’s saying some nonsense that she used to say. She used to make you laugh with the silly things she’d say. She was a sunshine. A shining one. But it’s gone now and it will never come back.

Jungkook immediately stops the car to the side. It breaks his heart to see you like this. Now he’s the one being brought back to ten years ago. Following the passing of your sister, he was the one holding at first. He was the one consoling you when your world fell apart.

“Hey, yn,” he says before pulling you into his arms, your eyes instantly closing.

For sure, it’s not comfortable at all but you manage to put your head on his strong arms. At that moment, you let yourself cry. Jungkook presses gentle kisses on top of your head, his left hand caressing your shoulder while his right hand caresses your back. He’s trying as much as he can to soothe you but he feels helpless. Seeing someone he deeply loves devastated always makes him feel powerless.

Jungkook never meant to cause any pain by asking how your parents were doing but he should have thought better.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers in between kisses.

You hold him tightly while you cry your heart out. This really comes as a surprise for you but it might be due to the fact that seeing your ex-boyfriend has brought back memories from the past. You definitely didn’t think that you’d start crying on your actual first date. You’ve been extremely happy following the very steamy session with your ex and this right now is the exact opposite.

“Please forgive me for bringing this up,” he adds.

This is definitely not his fault. It’s no one’s fault, except for the driver that killed your sister. He was completely drunk, was driving on the wrong side of the road, and around a bend, he drove full force into the car your sister was in. Your sister and her boyfriend died instantly. So, to conclude, it’s the driver’s fault. It’ll forever be his fault.

Slowly, you start to calm down in Jungkook’s arms. They are extremely comforting, just as they were ten years ago.

“It’s not your fault, Kook,” you say.

His lips press another gentle kiss on top of your head.

“We can cancel the date if you don’t feel like it,” he tells you.

For sure, he wouldn’t feel comfortable going on a date with you when you’re feeling like this. Even if he was excited to spend this time with you, your safety and happiness come first.

“No,” you reply, “I really want to go to the restaurant.”

You clean your eyes in an attempt to look presentable but there are no doubts that the makeup you spent hours working on is completely ruined. Probably you ruined everything now. What was supposed to be a cheerful moment has turned into a crying session.

“You’re sure?” he asks with concern.

“Yep,” you directly say.

You take a deep breath before sitting correctly on your seat and parting from Jungkook’s strong arms. His eyes scan your face carefully, trying to understand how broken you are. To his surprise, he’s just watching sadness in your eyes. Ten years ago, the only thing he’d see in your eyes was emptiness. To tell the truth, he was expecting to see that in your eyes but there’s just sadness. In some way, it reassures him because emptiness makes him feel helpless.

Sadness is something he can help you with. He has seen that a lot in Arya’s face and in yours as well. For that, he can do something, he will for sure find a way to cheer you up. He’ll do whatever it takes to remove the sadness he caused in your eyes.

“You’re absolutely stunning, yn,” he mumbles.

Your cheeks blush at his words, your eyes are still teary but a small smile still manages to make its way onto your face.

“How can you find me stunning in this state?” you ask.

Without any doubt, the mascara runs down your face, your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are red from your cries and also from his compliment, and your hair is a bit messy from your hug. However, you look absolutely wonderful in his eyes. This is the real you, and he wouldn’t want to see anything else than the real you.

“You’re stunning under any circumstances, yn,” he answers.

“Don’t say that,” you shyly say.

“I’m just telling the truth,”

A little smile appears on his face, he definitely loves to see you acting all shy around him. That’s a sign that he makes you feel something and he loves to see it in the girl that he always loved.

“Stop saying nonsense and let’s go to the restaurant,” you reply.

Undoubtedly, if he keeps staring at you like you’re some kind of goddess, you’ll kiss him and probably beg him to fuck you in this car. But that will be a way to forget this awful feeling and you can’t use Jungkook to make you stop thinking about your sister for a brief moment. He doesn’t deserve that, not after all that you made him go through for the past ten years.

“As you wish, ma’am,” he answers.

A little laugh escapes your lips while your ex starts the car again. All the way to the restaurant, Jungkook keeps making you laugh, slowly pushing away the sadness you felt earlier. During the entire time, you feel grateful this man even exists. Nobody has ever made you feel this way.

Once you arrive at the restaurant, Jungkook places his hand on your lower back while walking to your table. A table reserved by him the day before. The restaurant is extremely fancy and is without any doubt very expensive. This is your first time in this type of restaurant.

The dinner goes well, Jungkook tries to cheer you up all along, an attention that honestly warms your heart. He purposely tries to avoid mentioning the name of your sister, too scared to make you cry once more. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he ruined the date again.

Spending this time with him was wonderful. He spoke a lot about his daughter Arya, he’s for sure extremely proud of her. From what you got to see and hear, he’s an excellent father to that little girl. They are both lucky to have each other.

Once you’re done eating and discussing, you leave the restaurant. Jungkook doesn’t let you pay although you really insisted on paying at least a little something. However, he promised to let you pay next time. You know for sure that it will never happen, he’s never going to let you pay anything.

Right now, you’re both walking to his car. As you're walking, your bodies are very close, his hand brushing against yours, and you’re just dying to hold it and intertwine your fingers with his. During the entire dinner, you were just craving his touch, wanting his warmth to embrace your body.

“Thanks for the dinner, Kook,” you tell him.

His face turns to glance at you. A gentle and sincere smile appears on his face but what really catches your attention is the way he’s looking at you. There’s so much affectation and tenderness. No man has ever looked at you the way he’s currently doing. Undoubtedly, he’s the one for you. He always has been.

“Do you want to do something? Or do you want to go home?” he asks you.

For a brief moment, you hesitate but you’d love to spend more time with him. You don’t want this moment with him to be over. You simply want this to last forever but it’s not possible. There’s a point in time when you’ll have to go home and sleep. In a couple of hours, this moment will turn into a memory that you’ll cherish deeply but you definitely don’t want it to be a souvenir just yet.

“Maybe we could do something,” you answer.

“Would you like to go to my place and have some cocktails?” he asks. “I’ve become quite an expert at preparing them.”

That definitely surprises you. You can’t imagine him preparing a cocktail but there’s absolutely no doubt that you desire nothing more than to taste one of his cocktail creations.

“Let’s do that,” you say with a bright smile on your face.

The drive to his place goes by pretty smoothly. The two of you are in your own world, it’s like nothing ever happened between you. It’s just like you’re back to loving each other. The crushing reality is quite different but none of you wish to face it at this precise moment. It’s quite obvious that one day it will happen and it won’t be a fun moment for both of you. Being purposely ignorant can cause great pain, more than you can dream of.

Once you arrive at his mansion, he invites you to enter first. Jungkook stays at the entrance, not moving at all. His eyes are devouring you. This is something he never thought he’d ever witness and he feels a mix of emotions. On one side, he’s actually very delighted that it’s happening but on the other side, he’s not very sure this is supposed to happen after all the pain you put him through.

To him, you’re beautiful in every way. The green dress you’re wearing embraces your body perfectly, letting him see how imperfectly perfect your body is. It’s not the first time that he’s checking you out, he did it quite a lot when you were together. However, this time is different. This time comes after 10 years of no contact. It feels like he shouldn’t be doing it.

You turn around to look at the man behind you. The way he’s staring at you catches you off guard and takes your breath instantly away. There’s affection and tenderness. With just one stare, a feeling of love grows inside you. This makes it more real that there’s a possibility of trying again. A possibility that warms your heart and scares the hell out of you at the same time.

“You’re not coming?” you finally ask.

“Yes, yes,” he agrees while entering and closing the door behind him.

The precise moment he closes the door, he gets closer to you. A little too close. His eyes stare into yours, your heart starts beating faster as you realize how close you actually are. There’s barely any space between your faces. His eyes quickly look down at your lips, and unwittingly, yours do exactly the same. Suddenly, the tension between you becomes very tense and sexual.

“Yn,” he whispers as he closes his eyes for a brief moment.

In a matter of seconds, you both end up in the living room. The same room where you met for the first time his adorable daughter. Honestly, you don’t really know how you arrived there. Jungkook simply grabbed your hand before basically running through his house to the first room.

Once in the room, your ex doesn’t hesitate, pressing his lips against yours for a fervent kiss. Even if this kiss is the mere result of the extremely high sexual tension between you, it still feels tender. It reminds you of the kisses exchanged while you were together. In the middle of this sensual moment, this kiss warms your heart.

Your hands find their way to his hair while he kisses you hungrily. His hands are placed on your lower back, slowly pushing you closer to him. This feels like he doesn’t want you to run away from you, even for the slightest bit. For sure, you’re not going anywhere right now. You solely desire to lose yourself in all this lust. Until this flame isn’t consumed, there’s no way you’re leaving this house.

To be honest, a couple of weeks ago, you would have never imagined kissing your ex-boyfriend again. The breakup wasn’t easy, plus, you were the type of person to be convinced that it’s never a good idea to get back with your ex. But oh lord, this is Jungkook. How can you ever resist this man?

Jungkook slowly walks backward before sitting on the couch, causing you to sit down on his lap. He desires nothing more than to sense more friction. This action lifts your dress, revealing more of the skin on your legs. He’s yearning to touch you in every possible way but this closeness between your bodies is driving him crazy. The two of you are gasping hard but it clearly doesn’t matter.

You desire more and more.

As you break the kiss, you quickly unbutton his shirt, revealing his bare skin to your eyes. You enjoy the view, his tattoos in full display just for you. His body is sculpted as a Greek god. His hard work at the gym has definitely paid off. What will forever surprise you is the fact that underneath his perfect suit, his arm is covered in tattoos. It seems so contradictory. But it only makes him even more desirable in your eyes.

Jungkook glances at you. All that he can see in your eyes is lust. Honestly, it’s all that matters to him right now and it swells his chest with pride. You can’t help but touch his soft skin and he lets you do whatever you want. The CEO of Jeon Industries shivers from the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin. Your lips press against his, needing to be completely intoxicated by him. His tongue licks your bottom lip before his teeth grip it, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants, he’s growing harder underneath you.

When you open your mouth, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside to finally meet yours. A moan leaves your lips at the feeling, and unintentionally, Jungkook flexes his toned thigh underneath you. You feel it in all the right places, making your pussy clench around nothing and it causes you to whine again.

This unintentional action ends up being a good thing and he can’t help but smirk. His hands move down on your exposed thighs to caress them. Your skin is soft under his palms, his hands feeling so huge on your body. Before doing anything else, Jungkook pulls one of his legs out from under you, making you sit on top of only one leg. As he does so, you adjust yourself on his thigh. Your dress is pushed even higher, Jungkook having now a proper view of your beige panties, your clothed pussy brushing now against his dark pants.

Both of you know where this is going. Probably it isn’t a good idea but none of you wants to stop it. You’re getting addicted to the other more and more, and the thought of stopping doesn’t even cross your mind.

“Fuck, yn,” he groans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.

Jungkook presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips and licking against your own. This feels marvelous, everything about you is addictive, and Jungkook definitely desires to bring this to the next level. Honestly, it is a shared feeling.

As his tongue plays with yours on your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. He pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy and flexes the muscle once more.

“I love the way you’re riding my thigh, princess,” he whispers against your lips. “But I need to feel you properly against my thigh.”

One of his hands slides down on your body and tugs aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his thigh. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against his thigh. Jungkook pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. A trail of moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy.

“I adore to hear you moan, baby girl,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

His tongue licks your ear, a little trick that will bring you closer to the orgasm. A little trick that he learned when you were together. It’s your weakness, and he knows it. Since you’ve been very intimate together, he knows your body by heart and everything he needs to do to bring you down on your knees. However, by doing so, he also brings himself closer to the orgasm. Hearing you moaning and seeing you completely overwhelmed by what he does arouses him a lot. There’s proof of it right now as his length is getting harder and tighter on his pants. He’s definitely about to explode.

Honestly, even if you would try to speak, you wouldn’t be able to form a proper sentence. Your mind is way too consumed by this blissful moment. You can’t even think properly but damn, you’re enjoying every second.

“I will touch myself as you keep riding my thigh,” Jungkook says with quite some desperation in his voice.

Before you can even process what he said, he gently inserts two fingers in your mouth, and with his other hand, he lowers his underwear, allowing his cock to slap against his lower stomach. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. He’s thick and long, this sight alone gets you wetter.

You suck on his finger, coating them with your saliva, and that alone snatches a groan out of his pretty swollen lips. A proud smile appears on your face. When he feels that they are soaked enough, he pulls them from your mouth. His fingers hold his cock, covering it with your saliva as they go up and down the length.

This man is as filthy as he was before. It clearly reminds you of the beginning of your relationship, when you had your first time together. It was explosive because man, he had a lot of experience due to his fuckboy past. For sure, over time, it got even better because you started to discover each other.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, baby girl.”

You bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you, and you know that you won’t last long before that wave hits you hard.

“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls as his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s too hot, baby.” Jungkook runs his thumb over the tip of his cock and grips his bottom lip between his teeth.

He strokes his cock at the same pace at which your hips are working on his thigh, and he also feels like he’s about to cum on his hand.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he growls as he looks down to watch your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing this perfectly.”

You put your hand on his shoulder and circle your pussy faster against his thigh. You’re so close.

“Jk,” you say and his gaze meets yours once again, “I’m so close!”

The hand resting on your waist goes down and his thumb circles on your clit. It sends you over the edge, the orgasm hitting you hard and you feel it in every part of your body. A guttural moan leaves your mouth and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling. The sight of you coming undone makes him come, a deep groan coming from his throat as cum flows on his hand.

You hide your face in the crook of his neck, completely surprised that you gave in to temptation. Nobody says anything, you’re just both trying to catch your breath and you close your eyes.

Slowly, you fall asleep in his arms, exhausted from this wonderful night with him. Jungkook feels it but doesn’t say anything, enjoying having you in his arms. This hadn’t happened in years so he enjoys every single second passed with you. As you’re falling deeper, he moves a bit and you groan.

“I’m just putting back my pants, baby,” he whispers in your ear. He does it quickly to not disturb you more. “I’ll put you in my bed, you’ll be better.”

“No,” you mumble half-awake, “I want to stay in your arms.”

Even though he craves nothing more than to have you in his arms, this position is very uncomfortable for the two of you. It’s best to go to his bed, it’s way more comfortable than his couch. Jungkook stands up, holding you tight in his arms. You mumble some words that he doesn’t understand, making him chuckle. Once in his bedroom, he carefully places you in his bed before lying beside you. He crawls to you, holding you again in his arms.

“Have you introduced a girlfriend to Arya?” Eunji asks Jungkook.

A little smile appears on his face. Undoubtedly, Arya has spoken about the flower situation to her mother or maybe she has mentioned the time when she met you at his place. Maybe she even mentioned both.

“What did she tell you?” Jungkook asks the mother of his daughter.

Honestly, Jungkook doesn’t even know how to explain this situation to Eunji. You’re not his girlfriend but you’re not a friend as well. You’re in an in-between situation. It’s a situationship like many people may say.

“Apparently, she met a ‘female’ friend of yours and she helped you choose a bouquet of flowers. A bouquet that I deduced you offered to that said friend,” she tells him.

“Well,” he starts saying, “I’ve been seeing my ex.”

His mind is brought back to three nights ago when you went on a date. The next day, the two of you went completely wild. You stayed at his place and spent almost the entire day having sex. It was wild but definitely amazing. There’s no doubt that the physical attraction is still very much present.

“Yn?” she asks.

Of course, she has heard about you. They’ve been friends for quite some time and he has been very open about his past with you. She knows that you’re the only ex he’d ever see again, that you’re the only ex he ever loved.

Jungkook simply nods, not knowing what to say to her. Actually, he wants to first see her reaction before adding anything else. Honestly, he’s scared of her reaction, he deeply cares about her and her opinion. At the end of the day, she’s the mother of his daughter, they are linked forever.

“Jk, are you sure it’s a good idea?” she asks him.

She’s quite concerned about him. Even if she always knew that he still deeply loved you, she constantly prayed that you wouldn’t meet again. She doesn’t want him to be heartbroken once more. He doesn’t deserve it, he has a golden heart she’ll protect at any cost.

“At this stage, we’re simply talking and hanging out together. Nothing more,” he tells her.

In a way, she’s happy that Arya told her about all this because now, she’ll keep an eye on her daughter’s father. Also, if he gets heartbroken once more, inevitably it will have an impact on their daughter as well. She’ll see her father constantly sad even if Jungkook tries to hide it and she’ll try to cheer him up.

“But would you want to try again?” she raises with concern.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he starts saying. “I love being with her, talking about the past, and discovering what we have become. For sure, everything is different but it scares and excites me at the same time.”

Being around you is a blessing for him but when you’re not together in your little bubble, he thinks about the full situation. It’s extremely frightening. There’s some trust that has been broken, and a heart that aches. Also, your lives are totally different. Jungkook is a father, running one of the biggest companies in the country. You’re his employee, you’ve been engaged and you lost your sister. You’re both totally different people now.

However, this is a situation that he kept dreaming of for the past ten years. Every day, he wished you’d come back. So he believes he can’t throw away this opportunity but if it doesn’t work out, at least, he would have tried. He wouldn’t regret and he’s convinced that he would more easily move on from you.

“It’s normal, Jk,” she says, “so much time has passed.”

He couldn’t agree more with her. Ten years is quite a lot and it’s definitely what also scares him. What if in the end, it’s never the right time? What if you are never meant to get back together? All those questions keep haunting him when he’s by himself. Nevertheless, he tries to not overthink. It’s unquestionably not a good idea, especially since he has so much to think about at work.

“I know,” he answers while running his hand through his hair. “But I don’t want to overthink this situation, let’s take it day by day and we’ll see the outcome.”

Eunji simply nods. Obviously, he’s not comfortable talking about all this right now. She’s not going to force him, it has to come from him.

“Just try to be careful with Arya,” she reminds him. “She’s very young and it’s best she isn’t involved in our relationships before we’re secure it’s serious.”

They established this rule years ago. It has always seemed so easy for Jungkook to respect it since he only had one-night stands but this time around, it appears quite difficult. Arya already met you by accident, she sometimes questions him about you.

“I’m aware of it, Eunji and I’ll make sure they never meet again,” he answers.

She smiles, happy that he’ll ensure that her daughter isn’t involved in a heartbreak. Knowing Arya, she’ll also be sad if suddenly she stops seeing you. She can easily get attached to people so it’s always best to provide her with some stability.

The little girl suddenly appears in the kitchen where both her parents are. She smiles when she sees them, a smile they both return back to her. She’s the person they both love the most, she lights their world in a way they can’t express. This love is what will forever tie them together. They created this wonderful little girl. Jungkook always believed they did a good job when conceiving and educating her.

“Is mommy eating too tonight?” she asks, looking at them two.

Before Eunji has the time to answer, Jungkook proceeds to reply to his daughter.

“Yes, she is,” he says with a bright smile, “We’ll have a little family dinner.”

Happiness suddenly radiates from Arya’s face. Her mother can’t say no now that Jungkook said she’ll stay. Her daughter’s father trapped her but she won’t complain. She adores it when the three of them spend time together. Those moments are rare however they are always filled with joy. What always warms their heart is seeing how content Arya is. Nothing will ever beat that.

The entire night, Jungkook completely forgets about you. There’s just him, Eunji, and Arya. This is a moment deeply cherished that will forever stay in his heart. This is a moment that can heal his broken heart. This is a moment where time completely stops. This is a moment where he’s simply proud of the family he built. He’d do everything to protect them at all costs. For sure, this isn’t the kind of family he expected to have but his family is perfect. At the end of the day, both he and Eunji try as hard as they can to make everything work, which is all that really matters.

At some point, he just looks at them with a big smile on his face.

Eunji and him never tried to be together. They had a one-night stand that resulted in creating Arya but never have they thought of getting involved romantically. They have always been good friends and amazing co-parents. It’s sometimes not easy but what’s important is that they always find a common ground.

There are some moments where he wonders how things would have looked like if you remained together. Would he have started his company? Would you have started a family? Would you be married? Would you be happy together? All those questions will forever remain unanswered but he’s very proud of everything he accomplished with this void inside his heart.

For sure, getting his heart broken made him work hard. So hard that he built the Jeon Empire from scratch. An empire that started with Jeon Industries. An empire that he’ll bequeath to his daughter. This would have probably never existed with you by his side.

But now that he has it all, will he manage to have the one last thing that he’s always wanted? Or will it be too much for him to handle?

For the past month, you and Jungkook have been seeing each other quite often. Of course, it’s impossible when he’s with his daughter, which is totally understandable. She comes first and he needs to spend as much time as possible with her. You would never dare to even say anything about it, you actually even encourage him to spend more time with her. Those moments together are what she will forever remember and cherish.

As you enter the elevator, you notice at the end the man that haunts your dreams. A little smile appears on your face. Without any hesitation, you make your way to the end to be near him. There’s no doubt that you’re not going to be able to say or do anything as there are other employees. But you can be near each other, even for a brief moment. When you get closer to him, he also notices you. Jungkook tries to hide the little smile forming on his face.

“Miss y/l/n,” he speaks when you’re next to him.

“Mr. Jeon,” you reply.

If anyone was truly looking at you, they would notice the way you’re staring at each other. Or should we say, the way you’re devouring each other with your gaze. There’s so much affection and tenderness in his eyes, it immediately warms your heart. Jungkook doesn’t have to say anything, his eyes speak louder than any word he could ever say. Whenever he lands his eyes on you, he always feels loved. Every part of his being feels it. He doesn’t doubt that his feelings are reciprocated.

Scared to be caught, you look away. Being this close while he’s your boss is kind of a tricky situation. Honestly, you’re truly considering quitting the company. This is becoming way too delicate, you can’t stay in this company while you’re clearly in love with your boss. It’s not about what people would say because honestly, you don’t give a shit about it. It’s just that it can create conflicts of interest. He’s your superior, and your relationship might affect any decision he makes regarding you. And knowing yourself, you’ll always believe that whatever decision he makes will always be considered to help your career.

Actually, you’ve already prepared your resignation letter. It’s sitting in a drawer of your desk, waiting for the perfect moment to be given to the director of your department, Kim Taehyung. The excuse you’ll give is that working in a massive company such as Jeon Industries caused you more anxiety than expected. Taehyung will for sure be surprised and will probably convince you to stay. You haven’t been here for a year but it’s most likely the best to do. Nobody needs to know the truth but you can’t stay while this love is blossoming.

Quickly, your eyes gaze at Jungkook once more. It breaks your heart to think that you’ll leave the company any time soon. However, it will be easier for you two. The CEO notices the quick glance you took but he doesn’t do anything. He’s too afraid of what he could do or say in the presence of his other employees. Once you reach the fifth level, you leave the elevator with a heavy heart. You love being near Jungkook, it’s rather hard to be far from him. Your ex watches you walk away from him. Just like you, it’s hard to see you exit the elevator, putting a physical distance between you.

Pretending that there’s nothing going on between you is extremely hard. This is the other reason pushing you to leave the company. As time passes, you both grow confident that this is the right time for you but one day or another, the other people working here will notice it. It will be even harder to quit then. It’s better to take measures before the inevitable happens.

The rest of the day goes by quite fast for you but the resignation letter has been a lot more present on your mind. So it has led you to this precise moment. You’re in front of Jungkook’s secretary’s desk, waiting for her to let you inside his office. Your heart is beating extremely fast in your chest, your hands are shaking, and you’re getting very nervous.

“Miss y/l/n, you can come in,” she says with a little smile while she holds the door.

You nod before walking in her direction. “Thank you,” you tell her as you pass in front of her. She closes the door behind you, leaving you now alone with the big boss.

When you enter the massive room, you find Jungkook walking in your direction, clear concern painted on his face. Your eyes scan him, he’s wearing a white shirt with dark blue suit pants. His sleeves are slightly lifted, he was for sure very focused on his work. Now you feel guilty to be bothering him with your shitty thing. He was probably working on something way more important than you, you think.

What you totally ignore is that the company is facing quite a huge problem. An issue that Jungkook is trying to solve but it’s been hard. He was working on it before his secretary announced your presence.

“Yn,” he speaks, “is everything okay?”

Jungkook is concerned because never before you came to his office. As soon as his secretary said your name, his heart started racing in his chest, his mind imagining the worst happened to you.

He gets close to you, his hands grab your face and his eyes scan your face to make sure you’re doing well. He sees something in your eyes that he can’t quite describe. There’s some sadness, that’s undeniable but there’s something else. A something that he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Everything is fine, Jk,” you tell him with a little smile appearing on your face.

“No, there’s something otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” he instantly replies back.

Indubitably, this man knows you, but it doesn’t surprise you. You’ve been spending the last month talking a lot, and you also dated for 2 years in the past.

“I will give my resignation letter to Mr. Kim tomorrow morning,” you inform him.

Before quitting, you wanted to inform him personally. You didn’t want him to find it out through Taehyung that you’ll be leaving. Knowing him, he’ll be very angry.

“Why?” he frowns.

“Because of all this between us,” you immediately reply.

Jungkook takes a step back to look at you properly. To be honest, this surprises him a lot. In his mind, you were never going to quit and you would figure out together how to navigate this situation. But he was obviously wrong.

“I can’t stay here while we flirt together outside work,” you add. “You’re my superior and inevitably, it will be a problem one day. It will be a lot harder to leave at that time so I prefer to do it now.”

“No,” he answers while turning his back on you.

“This is my decision, Jungkook, not yours.”

There’s no way you’re letting this man tell you what to do. Leaving is your decision and he can’t object. Actually doing it will make you quite angry. It's a decision that will benefit you both. Plus, it seems obvious that he can’t leave his company.

“It’s something we should discuss together before making this kind of decision,” he replies. He doesn’t turn around to look at you. He’s still in shock at what he just heard, it feels unreal to him.

“We both know you’ll never agree to it or you’ll try to find a solution but the only reasonable solution is me finding a job in another company,” you explain while walking in his direction.

Jungkook shakes his head. He’s convinced there’s another way but he can’t let you lose this opportunity of working in one of the best companies. He knows how happy you were to join his company, he knows it was your dream because this would be a massive opportunity for you to work with the best people in the industrie. Seeing each other can’t be a barrier to that.

“Look at you,” you say, “you’re completely refusing it but I have to go, I have to work somewhere else if we want to give a shot at whatever we are doing. I choose you over this job.”

Maybe it’s not the best decision you’re making because you should never put a man before your dreams. But that man ain’t any man. With Jungkook, you also speak a lot about work and together, you can help each other. Even if you start working for another company, he will give you his input in whatever you’re doing, if you ask it of course. For sure, you wouldn’t be able to tell him what project you’re working on but if you ask him what he thinks of this or that, he’ll gladly help. At the end of the day, you both did the same studies.

“You can’t do that, you can’t choose me over your career,” he says while finally facing you.

“But think about it,” you start saying. “If I stay, it will generate a conflict of interest for you. We will both be in an uncomfortable position, I will doubt every decision you make that involves me and you’ll also consider me when making a decision. That’s not right, neither for us nor for the other employees,” you argue.

Jungkook has already thought about this all but he knows there will be no impact. He’s way too high in the hierarchy and you’re at the bottom. Taehyung is the one making decisions directly involving you, but still there, there’s your manager, Jimin in between you and Taehyung. In any case, Taehyung’s decisions will be made following instructions that he received from Hoseok, the CFO, and that he directly received from Jungkook. There are some people involved in between. His instructions will only be considered for the sake of the company. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Look, there are Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin between us.” It seems so weird to you to hear the first names of your superiors. “My decisions are made for the sake of the company so I don’t see how it can directly affect you and only you. The three of them follow my instructions but they can adapt them. Most of the time my instructions are simply a result that I expect from a specific department but then how the result is obtained doesn’t matter to me,” he explains.

There’s no need to be a genius to know how a decision can benefit you.

“You’re quite close to Taehyung because he’s one of the best in his area. If he tells you that I did well, you can seize that opportunity to convince him to promote me as manager or whatever you think of. That can be an unfair treatment because you like me.”

You wanted to say ‘because you love me’ but that seems a bit too much since you’re not exactly sure of his feelings for you. However, that’s what Jungkook wanted to hear because he still loves you. But it’s better you didn’t say it.

“You can say whatever you want Jk but I won’t change my mind,” you say. “My decision is made.”

Well, Jungkook is perfectly aware of it. That’s something that didn’t change about you. Once you’re convinced about something, wrong or right, nobody can change your mind. You’re way too stubborn.

“Well, then I appreciate you informing me before going to Taehyung,” he simply replies.

There’s for sure some disappointment in his face but deep down, he knows you’re right. In the long run, the situation will be problematic one way or another. But he would have preferred that you gain some more experience in his company before leaving. It would only be beneficial for you.

“I better be going, Jimin will probably get worried,” you say.

Jungkook nods. Both of you proceed to get back to work without saying anything else. The rest of the day, you don’t speak or text. There’s like a thin wall of ice that appeared between you, and it’s scaring you both. But since you want to try to get back together, you’ll both pretend that it isn’t there. Almost as if you’re voluntarily closing your eyes because you don’t want to lose each other.

Since you didn’t like the way yesterday went by, you decide to show up at his place. Before appearing unexpectedly, you made sure that Arya wasn't there. Jungkook has been making sure that you don’t randomly end up meeting Arya. You couldn’t agree more with this decision.

“Yn?” he says with surprise when he opens the door.

The man standing in front of you is still wearing his suit. Immediately, you understand that he’s still working. Probably something has happened at work which needs to be solved.

“Sorry to come up out of the blue, I didn’t mean to bother you,” you start saying. “I just want to have a conversation with you, especially after what happened yesterday.”

Jungkook nods before letting you inside. As soon as you step inside, he presses his lips against yours. This is very surprising but honestly, it feels absolutely wonderful. Feeling his lips against yours is extremely intoxicating. You’re completely addicted to him.

“Are you okay?” you whisper against his lips.

“I just need you, yn,” he mumbles.

Things have been hard at work for Jungkook. Unfortunately, it has been affecting him in general. Whenever he’s alone, away from you, he wonders if indeed it’s a good idea to try again. He hates himself for thinking that way because he has always wanted to be with you. He never moved on from you. But now that he has you once more, he simply doesn’t know. He’s completely lost.

Before you can understand, you’re in his bedroom exchanging fervent kisses. You’re both intoxicated by each other, lost in your little bubble. In a matter of seconds, you’re both naked, his head in between your legs, eating you out like a starving man. Your moans quickly echo in his bedroom, his name leaving your lips while Jungkook procures you a lot of pleasure. You have orgasms upon orgasms and it doesn’t stop him at all. It’s pleasantly overwhelming.

Throughout the time he eats you out, he strokes his cock. Hearing you moaning and feeling your fluids on his face and tongue excite him more than he can explain. It doesn’t take him a long time before he’s hard as a rock. His mind is fully consumed by lust. All he can think of is to fuck you.

Once he senses that he has tortured you enough, he stands up, placing himself on top of you. There’s no need to talk to understand that he’s going to penetrate you in the next few seconds. On the moment, none of you think of using protection. You’re just completely lost in your burning desire. With no surprise, he penetrates you. It causes an instantly deep moan to leave your throat. Jungkook adores seeing you underneath him in this state. You’re intoxicated by each other.

Sloppy kisses are exchanged while he fills you up with his little monster. He takes you in every position possible, pushing both your limits. You stop counting the orgasms you have, it’s just too much but in a delicious way. You take all that he gives you until your body gives up. Your body actually starts trembling quite fast after he fills you up.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jungkook completely explodes inside you. It’s at that precise moment that you realize that you didn’t use any protection. But you’re too lost to say or do anything about it. Your lover stands up, grabbing a tissue to clean his cock. On your end, you stand up to use his bathroom. It’s always recommended to pee right after sex. You never miss doing it even if all your fluids left your body while having intercourse.

When you come back into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed. He looks absolutely devastated. You haven’t seen him that way in years. You run to his side, taking him in your arms. The second he feels your arms wrapped against him, he bursts into tears. You instantly close your eyes since it absolutely crushes you to hear him cry.

Whilst he cries in your arms, you don’t say anything. You’re simply there for him, trying to comfort him with your simple presence. Seeing such a strong man in this state indicates that he has really reached a low point. This time you’re going to be there for him and help him. This time you’re not going to give up on him. He doesn’t deserve it. He never deserved it the way you treated him in the past.

“I’m here,” you finally mumble while pressing a kiss on top of his head.

His hands on top of your arms hold you tighter, almost as if he’s scared you let go of him. But you’re not going anywhere until he hasn’t calmed down. You’re probably even going to spend the night here with him. There’s no way you’re leaving him alone when he’s like this.

“I’m so lost, yn,” he whispers. “I’m way too lost.”

It breaks your heart to listen to him saying that.

“There’s too much going on at Jeon Industries,” he says. “Having you quit the company is also hard because I feel like I’ve failed everywhere with it. I don’t know what to do anymore, I just want to throw it all away and just stay with Arya.”

You kneel down to see his face. It breaks your heart even more when you see his face ravaged by tears. His weeping eyes find yours.

“You haven’t failed anything, Jungkook,” you say in an attempt to comfort him, “you actually exceed everywhere.”

Your thumbs clean the tears running down his cheeks. You don’t wish to see him like this, it’s way too heartbreaking.

“Remember when you were talking about building your own company?” you ask and he nods straight away. “It was simply a dream back then but you made it happen. All by yourself. It’s even one of the biggest companies in the country. You can be proud of yourself for all that.”

Even if you weren’t together, you felt so much pride seeing him building his empire. He accomplished more than he ever described to you. Times might sometimes be hard but that’s part of life. It would be boring if we didn't face a little challenge. In the end, it is what makes the taste of victory feel even better.

“This is a challenging time for Jeon Industries but it’s temporary, you’ll totally overcome it because you’re Jeon Jungkook. The smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Jungkook places his hand on top of yours. This warms his heart more than he can even express. Being around feels absolutely good.

“And I’m simply leaving the company so I can be by your side, I’m not going anywhere,” you finish.

He closes his eyes. His life is falling apart in front of his eyes, everything is out of control. Of his control. The only thing secure is his daughter. All the rest is simply overwhelming. Too overwhelming. He needs a break from the world. Even one from you.

A week has passed since the crying incident at his place. You’ve been quite concerned with him but he hasn’t been talking much with you. However, for the past few days, you have given him the space that he needs. He’s not going well so you’re not going to force him to open up with you.

Today, he has invited you to join him in a little park. Seeing that message brought a bright smile to your face because you’ve been excited to be with him. You imagined that he probably prepared a little cute date to just get his mind off work. But strangely, when you reach the park, you find him sitting on a bench, his face looking down at the grass.

When he hears you getting close, he stands up. He doesn’t smile at all. Actually, you can’t read his face at all. It catches you off guard. This isn’t something you expected to see at all and it doesn’t sound good at all. Instantaneously, your heart starts pounding extremely fast at the same time that your hands start shaking. You’re scared of whatever he might say today.

“Thanks for coming, yn,” he starts saying. “I truly appreciate it.”

Jungkook doesn’t move closer, putting a clear distance between you. This man standing in front of you isn’t the man you have been hanging out with lately. This man is barely recognizable.

“There’s no problem,” you reply.

“As I have told you, I’ve been feeling extremely lost lately,” you nod. “Everything is way too overwhelming for me and I simply don’t know what to do. But I know that having you back in my life is one of the reasons I’m feeling this way,” he explains. “I’ve always wanted you back but I never considered the consequences it would have on me. To be honest, I don’t know how to handle having you in my life again. Everything is different. I’m not the Jungkook you used to know. I used the pain you caused to build this new life. Everything I have today is because of all the suffering you put me through so how can I have you in my life with all this?”

Tears start running down his face. This is too hard. It’s hard to realize that the person he has ever wanted in his life is the same one who is causing all this pain. The way he’s feeling right now is mainly because of you. Without you, this issue at Jeon Industries would have been solved quickly and wouldn’t have made him cry like a baby.

“When we’re not together, when I’m not in our bubble, my mind starts wondering a lot. I question all that I have right now and wonder how my life would have been if you had never left me. The only certainty that I have is that nothing would be like this,” he pauses for a couple of seconds. “I keep overthinking everything and it’s driving me completely crazy. I’m currently not happy and this is not possible when I have a daughter to take care of. I have to take care of myself to provide her with the most wonderful life.”

To hear all those words shatters your heart into a million pieces.

“I would like to say that I want to date you again, I truly want to. What we have been having, I’ve been dreaming of it for ten years but it’s too much for me right now,” he continues. “We need to put an end to this right now before I simply explode and destroy everything. I don’t want to hurt you or anybody around me, especially my daughter.”

What you feared most is happening. Jungkook is pushing you away because he’s hurting just like you did ten years ago. However, you’re the person responsible for his suffering. He’s pushing you away because you’re still causing him a lot of pain.

“I need space and time to heal,” he finalizes.

For a moment, you simply stare at each other. Jungkook is waiting for an answer from you but you’re not capable of saying anything. This is way too surprising for you but you need time to process every word that he just said. But this breaks you. More than words can say.

“I’m going, yn,” he says when he notices that you’re not reacting. “Take care,” he says before leaving you. Now, you’re brokenhearted alone in the middle of a park. It seems that in the end, it wasn’t the right time for you and Jungkook.

#bts #bts imagine #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #right time #timing series #spideyjimin

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souliebird · 4 months ago

Text

[[and then I met you || Ch. 25]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

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It is a beautiful Sunday morning at the Bronx Zoo - the sun is shining, the weather is warm, and there is hardly a crowd to speak of. Tourist season is over, and the school year has just started, so all the locals who would be here with their kids are otherwise preoccupied. Navigating through the pathways has been a breeze and there has been no one to block your view of the animals.

Another perk from the lack of patrons is the opportunity for a unique interaction at one of the exhibits Minnie was the most excited to visit.

“You has…you have very pretty fur,” Mouse whispers to the massive lowland gorilla that is mere inches from her face. There is a thick glass barrier between them, but you can’t help but feel a little bit nervous, especially with how the great ape has her full attention on your daughter. Large soulful eyes are focused on your little one as she gives compliment after toddler compliment.

“It's a lot of colors and it looks really really soft,” Minnie continues on, nose practically smooshed flat against the glass. “I bets you gotta brush it lots. Mommy brushes my hair, but I can do it myself. Like a Big Girl.”

The gorilla responds by chewing on some leaves that she has in her hands. It is what she has been doing since she came down from the trees to sit right in front of you five minutes ago. This, of course, doesn’t deter Minnie at all and she asks, “Does your Mommy brush your hair, too?”

As she has her imaginary conversation, you steal a glance at Matt.

After you learned about his senses, you thought joining you at the zoo would be torture for him. Even though the exhibits are kept clean, you know they must smell awful and there are loud birds screeching everywhere. It is completely different from the city noises he must be used to, and you even packed ear plugs and ibuprofen for if it became too much, but to your surprise, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

Minnie has taken on her role as his Guide, excitedly explaining what each animal is and what they look like, to the best of her abilities - making you oh so proud. You’ve noticed that as your daughter takes in the sights, Matt will tilt his head minutely - his tell that he is intently listening to something. Occasionally, he’s asked a question - usually pointing to an animal Minnie did not describe and asking what it is. You’ve found lots of hidden creatures that way.

You cannot imagine what inputs he must be receiving from the gorilla in front of him. You know humans and great apes are closely related, but how does that come across to Matt? The smell must be different, but is he able to distinguish between her heartbeat and the heartbeat of someone observing her? Do her lungs sound human?

Can he tell if she’s sick or well taken care of? Is that something he can determine in an animal he has no history with?

He must sense you looking at him because he tilts his head towards you and grins. Your heart squeezes in your chest and your stomach does a sort of funny flip.

He is so handsome and charming, and you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. You weren’t prepared to get into a physical relationship with Matt, but you don’t want to roll back on it.

You like how touchy he has been all morning. It hasn’t been anything obscene or inappropriate, but his hand has found its way around your waist more than once. On the subway, standing in line, or even just watching the animals, if you were next to him, he’d wrap you up and pull you a little closer. His hand would rub up and down your side and each time you’d feel like a little picture-perfect family on an outing.

You haven’t kissed in front of Minnie, but you have both been sneaking them in - when you woke up, when you were making breakfast, when Mouse was preoccupied getting ready.

You feel giddy and like you belong in a teen romance movie. This is something you haven’t had in such a long time - or ever really - and you don’t want to ruin it by overthinking.

You made a deal with yourself that morning - you were going to enjoy your trip to the zoo with your family and you were not going to overanalyze sleeping with Matt. It will be a tomorrow problem.

Right now, you are going to soak in all the goodness that is happening - including the pleasant ache in your core from getting thoroughly fucked.

You break yourself out of your own head and take a small step, so you are properly beside Matt. You reach up and wrap your arm around his bicep, leaning into him a little as you ask, “Who would win in a fight - you or the gorilla?”

“Oh, the gorilla,” he whispers back. “She’s all muscle and teeth. One good whack would easily break bone and even I’ve heard the stories about angry primates. I’m not that reckless.”

You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much, then you lightly squeeze his arm and tease, “Exactly how reckless are you?”

You don’t realize the innuendo until the words leave your lips and then you can’t take it back. Matt’s grin only grows, and he ducks just slightly so he can nuzzle into your ear to purr, “would you like to find out?”

Your face heats up and you have to hide your face in his shoulder, so you don’t die from absolute embarrassment. He gently pulls his arm from your grasp so he can instead wrap it around you and hold you firm against him. He rocks you slightly and you conclude that yes, Matt is very much enjoying his time out at the zoo.

In front of you, the gorilla stuffs the last of her leaves in her mouth, chewing slowly as Minnie babbles away about hair care.

“..and if you braids it, it makes it super-duper wavy after,” she wisely tells her new friend, “You could be really poofy. Like a flower.” She pauses, then you watch her as she watches the great ape stand back up and start to walk away. You expect her to be sad, but instead, your sweet girl just calls out, “Okay, bye-bye, I love you!” before whirling around to beam up at you.

“Can we go see the mices now?” she asks, all sunshine and rainbows.

To your great amusement, Minnie is dead set on following the plan she made. She only wants to visit certain animals and she must see them in a certain sequence. She brought the map of the zoo you bought her all those months ago - the one she’s drawn all over and has practically memorized - and they are your marching orders. You and Matt are more than happy to follow her lead - especially because she does not want to see any of the birds, which saves you a lot of walking.

“Let’s go to the Mouse House,” Matt agrees.

You have to pull away from him to be able to walk and your little Mouse goes right for your hand so she can hold it. She has been extra good all day about holding your hand and staying by your side - loudly saying she’s a Big Girl and can follow all the rules. You’ve been very impressed with her determination and definitely plan to reward her for her behavior.

Matt falls into line beside you as you begin to lead the way, lightly grabbing at your elbow. You feel a tad bad for taking up so much space on the path, but luckily there is no one around.

“What did you think of the gorillas?” you ask as you make your way to the next exhibit.

“They’re amazing!” Mouse says with the biggest little grin, “She was really big and pretty and soft and went…she went,” she proceeds to make soft little grunts like you imagine a monkey would make, but you didn’t hear the gorilla make any noises beyond chewing.

“She really liked you, huh?” Matt teases with a little hum, his own smile as large as his daughter’s.

“She did!” Minnie absolutely preens, “She’s my favorite!”

Every animal has been her favorite, but you do think, for the moment, the gorilla does take the cake.

“You’re favorite, huh?” You muse, “I don’t know, I think the tiger was really cool.” The cat had been much larger and vibrantly colored than you expected, and you had been a little bit starstruck by the apex predator. You might just see if there are any tiger shirts in the gift shop.

“He was sleepy!” Minnie proclaims, and it is true - the tiger was enjoying a midmorning snooze.

“What about you, Matt, who has been your favorite?”

He makes a show of tilting his head back and forth as he thinks, “My favorite? I liked the elephants - I didn’t expect them to be that large and using their noses like that is…unique.”

“It’s called their trunk!” Mouse eagerly tells her father, repeating what the zookeeper told you. “They can use it…to… to …to… grab things and drink water!” To emphasize her point, she raises her free arm up to her face and mimics an elephant’s trunk waving around.

“That is impressive,” he says, “can you do that with your nose?”

Minnie halts, then screws up her face to try to wiggle her nose. She purses her lips and pushes them around, but she does not succeed in independently moving her cute little nose. She does not give up right away, proceeding with multiple attempts before declaring rather cheerily, “Nope!”

You both laugh at your daughter’s antics as you start walking again. As you get closer to your destination, your little one gets more and more excited - she takes bigger steps, and you can tell she wants to run towards the building.

At first, she thought one giant mouse lived in the Mouse House, but you explained it held lots of little houses for different types of rodents. Now, you think, she is determined to make sure all her tiny brethren are happy in their homes. She takes her role as Mouse Princess very seriously, after all.

Like the Congo Forest, the Mouse House has a scarce population of humans. You let go of your daughter’s hand once in the darkness of the building so she can run up to view the first set of new friends. Once she is thoroughly distracted and talking to the little creatures, Matt moves.

He lets go of your arm to slip behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You rub at his forearm as you pull your phone out - you don’t want to miss any cute moments of Minnie with her subjects. As you bring up the camera app, Matt nuzzles at your neck, placing a sweet kiss there.

“Good day, so far?” He asks against you, and you can’t help but smile and duck your head a little. You aren’t used to affection, let alone public affection, and his attention makes you a bit dizzy.

“So far, so good,” you whisper in response. To distract yourself from how solid Matt is against your back and how he’s practically wrapped around you, you start tapping at your phone to get it to focus in the low light. “Are you having a good time?”

He hums into your skin, then gives another kiss, “the best time. Doesn’t smell nearly as bad as I thought it would and the animals seem well taken care of.”

“It’s AZA accredited,” you instantly chime, and he huffs against you. You did so much research about the zoo beforehand, so that you could answer any questions Minnie had. So far, she’s had zero.

“I don’t know what that means.”

You angle your phone to get a picture of Minnie and the enclosure she’s looking into, and whisper back, “It’s like the board that makes sure the zoos are humane and everything is done properly.”

He hums again, then buries his nose into the crook of your neck. You try to not shiver, but you do end up pressing back into his hold as you watch your daughter. You fall into a pleasant silence, swaying slightly in Matt’s arms, as Minnie moves between the different displays. She has no apparent interest in learning the types of animals she’s looking at - she goes right into talking to them. When she gets a little too far away, you gently guide Matt down the hallway, all while he stays wrapped around you.

“I like your feetsies,” Mouse tells an elephant shrew, and you turn on your camera to record her interrogate the little creature. “How many toes do you have? I can…I see…I see three toes. Do you have three toes? I gots five. But they go in shoes. You don’t haves shoes. Where are your shoes?”

You and Matt follow Minnie all through the Mouse House for almost thirty minutes. You let her take her time - you are in no rush to go back out into the heat, and you want her to not only enjoy herself, but tire herself out. She’ll get a burst of energy after lunch, but by the time you leave for the day, you hope to be a zonked-out toddler.

At the last of the exhibits, Matt gently nips at your throat before mumbling against it, “I have a surprise after this.”

You have no idea what he could possibly have up his sleeve, but whatever it is, it is making him start to grin and get a bit of cockiness to his voice. So, to tease him right back, you play dumb.

“After this?”

“After the Mouse House,” he confirms, squeezing you and rocking you in place. You start to smile at his teasing and let yourself enjoy it.

You hum, then begin to trace your fingers over one of the hands on your hips as you question, “A surprise? After the Mouse House?”

“A surprise after the Mouse House.”

That, of course, gets Mouse’s attention. She whirls around, eyes going wide with toddler excitement as she asks, “A surprise?”

“After the Mouse House,” Matt repeats, a mix of pride and smugness in his words. You can tell he is enjoying this interaction and that funny feeling in your heart and stomach return.

“Is it a pony?!”

You pull away from Matt just as he starts to laugh, and as you do Minnie hurries over to take your place. He scoops her up into her arms, and with all the fondness in the world, tells her, “No, it’s not a pony.”

She dramatically flops over his shoulders with a big pout, then, like it was all a joke, hurriedly moves to hug him around his neck and with pure toddler innocence tell him, “You’re better than a pony!”

Always ready for their sweet moments, you snap multiple pictures as Matt hugs his daughter back tightly and you just barely hear him whisper back, “I think you’re better than a pony, too.”

As always, it takes him a few moments to release Minnie and set her back down. She instantly latches onto his hand and begins to shake it vigorously, “I wanna know the surprise!”

Matt is quick to concede to her demands, “Okay, okay, sweetheart. Let’s go to the surprise.”

You put your phone back into your purse so you can slip over to the pair and offer your arm to Matt. He takes it just above your elbow, and you start towards the exit of the Mouse House, Minnie skipping along on the other side of Matt.

You’ve not walked with Matt before where he is the one to lead you, but you are sure to be in step with him, so no one takes a second look. His cane is folded up and tucked into your purse, so you don’t think anyone would guess he is blind just by looking at him, but your anxiety tells you someone is always watching and one little slip up will have people questioning you.

Once out in the sunshine, Matt directs you back towards the gorillas again. You are confused about what could possibly be back that way that you don’t already know about, but you trust him.

“For your surprise,” he says to Minnie as you walk, “you have to be quiet, okay? We can't be loud and attract other people because this surprise is a secret.”

That has you even more curious about what could possibly be going on, but you focus on your daughter’s reaction to the request. You know she knows what a secret is, but you don’t remember if you’ve ever asked her to keep a secret before.

Mouse’s free hand goes into her mouth as she thinks over Matt’s request, and you try to not gag. Her fingers must be covered in all sorts of germs, and you should have been more on top of sanitizing them. A nice lesson in hindsight.

Moments later, she drops her hand, and she looks up to Matt and squints suspiciously, “can Mommy know the secret?”

Pride streaks through you at her question and you might get a little bit teary eyed. She never fails to amaze you with how her mind works and what information she takes in. The fact she’s aware she shouldn’t keep secrets from you is probably the highlight of your week - Matt eating you out included.

“Of course, Mommy can know the secret,” Matt tells her instantly, “We should not keep any secrets from Mommy. It’s important she knows everything so she can keep us safe and happy.”

As he says that, he squeezes your arm a little and you know he is talking about himself as well. You remember all the times he’s told you he doesn’t want to keep anything from you, and you know he’s telling the truth. He’s been very open with you about everything, even if it has taken some time for everything to rise to the surface. You don’t blame him for that at all - the things he keeps close to the chest are pretty important and you more than understand him not telling you on day one.

But he did tell you, and he has been honest about not being ready to divulge everything just yet, and that is what matters.

“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Minnie mimics and you have a feeling that is going to be added to her repeated phrases.

“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Matt repeats, then adds, “Can we be quiet, though, so other people don’t know?”

Mouse nods and you have a feeling that whatever Matt has planned is going to get her extremely worked up.

You end up in a very secluded inlet, away from the main path, surrounded by trees, and part of you wonders if you are meant to be able to come to this spot. There is no one else around and you don’t know what sort of surprise Matt could possibly have that requires you to come here.

Your questions are answered only seconds later, when a friendly voice comes from above you.

“Hi, there!”

You jerk your head up, and hanging there upside down from a tree, is Spider-Man.

Your daughter loses her fucking mind.

It’s like it is in slow motion - Minnie gasps with her whole body before dropping Matt’s hand. She turns to latch onto his pants, instead, and begins to pull on them over and over with enough force you think she’ll rip them. You don’t know if she remembers that she’s supposed to be quiet or if she’s so excited she can no longer vocalize, but she starts to whisper-scream.

“Daddy, Daddy! It’s Spidey-Man! It’s Spidey-Man!!!”

You try to not go slack-jaw in your own amazement as the vigilante lets go of his web and drops to the ground right in front of your daughter, doing a backflip in the process.

“That’s me!” Spider-Man declares, and he sounds way younger than you thought he would. “I heard it was your birthday, so I had to come and say ‘Hi’!”

You rip your eyes away from the hero to stare at Matt and he looks like he is trying to not look smug as hell. You have no idea how he pulled this off - this is the real Spider-Man. The fake ones can’t hang from webs and sneak into zoos.

Does he work with Spider-Man when he’s out as Daredevil? And did he actually request for the man to come say Happy Birthday to Minnie? Does that mean he knows who Spider-Man is behind the mask? And vice versa?

“It’s my birthday!” Minnie chokes out and she sounds like she is about to start crying. You know she loves the hero, but you did not think he would get such an intense reaction. You turn your gaze back to her, your own excitement growing in your belly.

“Happy Birthday, Minnie!” Spider-Man tells her in the cheeriest voice, before crouching down and throwing open his arms, “Do you want a hug?”

He barely finishes getting the words out before Mouse is letting go of Matt to launch herself at him. He wraps her up in a hug and she just clings on. You want so badly to take a picture, but you respect that this is a secret meeting just for your baby.

You’ll just have to commit every moment to memory.

Matt has let go of your arm, so you turn so you can grab onto his bicep again. You lean against him and let yourself grin like an idiot as you watch your daughter with her hero.

“Your Dad told me that you’re really smart and like to learn new things,” Spider-Man says to the top of Mouse’s head. You wonder exactly how much information about your family was exchanged, but that’s something you can review later.

Minnie just barely nods against the man’s chest, and you can hear her start to talk, muffled against his suit, “I knows my ABCs and how to count ands I can do one plus one.”

“You can do one plus one?!”

“Elmo taughts me,” she explains in the sweetest and watery voice, “Its two.”

“That’s amazing,” Spider-Man tells her, “Keep watching Sesame Street, it has a lot of good lessons. Do you like Beaker and Dr. Honeydew from the Muppets? They were my favorites when I was little like you.”

Minnie squirms against Spider-Man and you expect her to pull away, but apparently, she is just getting more comfortable, because she nuzzles back into him and goes, “Meep, Meep.”

You laugh into Matt’s shoulder, overwhelmed with how sweet she is. Matt gently pulls his arm from you so he can yet again hold you close. You hand moves from his bicep to his chest, and you curl your fingers into his shirt, over his heart. You can’t tear your eyes away from your daughter to look at his expression, but you have a feeling it is a lot like yours.

“That’s right, ‘meep, meep, meep, MEEP,’” the vigilante does a good Beaker impression, causing a round of giggles. “Well, because you are so smart and your Dad is a pretty cool guy, I got you something I think Dr. Honeydew and Beaker would approve of.”

Your eyes go wide at the statement, and you cannot believe what you heard - Spider-Man, the famous New York vigilante, got your daughter a birthday gift?

Apparently, Minnie can’t believe it either, as she pulls back just a little so she can look up at him, and asks in the tiniest voice, “A presents?”

“A present!” He explains, then, so fast you barely see him do it, he flicks out a hand and shoots a string of web up into the trees where he has been waiting. Then he pulls and a box comes flying back at him. He expertly catches it, and you can see it is wrapped in blue wrapping paper that has white sparkly snowflakes all over it - clearly Christmas themed. You don’t think Minnie cares at all, because when it is held out to her, her little brown eyes just get so big.

“For you! Happy Birthday!”

Mouse looks back at you for permission and you quickly nod. She delicately takes the gift and once it is fully in her grasp, tears into it. As soon as it is free of its prison, she holds it up in triumph, “A mibo-scope!”

It is indeed a miniature microscope - at least that is the main picture on the box. You think it is one of those ‘Baby’s first science kit’ type things and you just know you are going to spend so much time over the next week hunched over it with Minnie.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Matt gently prompts and she instantly throws herself back into Spider-Man’s chest. She drops the box in the process, but the vigilante has lightning-fast reflexes and catches it before it hits the ground. He sets it aside before properly hugging your daughter again.

“Thank you, Spidey-Man! You’re…you’re the bestest! Bestest-bestest! I loves you!”

“Aw, thank you! I love you, too!”

There is a gentle pressure to the top of your head, and you realize Matt has turned his so he can press his lips there. You shuffle even closer to him, tightening your grip on his shirt.

As you watch your daughter hug her favorite super-hero, you realize you have never been this happy before in your life. Everything in this moment is perfect. You would not change anything at all, and you do not think you would change anything that lead up to this moment of time. You wish and pray you could trap the day in a bottle and hold it in your heart forever.

You and your precious Winifred Love are blessed that not only is Matthew Murdock a good man, but he is also a good father.

---

a/n:

And that concludes Season 1 of 'and then I met you'!

Next, we are onto Season 2 and diving into the Sokovia Accords and how it will affect our perfect little family.

Special thanks to @ebathory997 for their help with information about the Bronx Zoo and special shout out to @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @she-likesorchids and @loveroftoomanyfandoms for all of their amazing support <3 You guys are amazing and I could not have written any of this without y'all.

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal

@allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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munsonsmixtapes · 6 months ago

Text

Dress

Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: you and Buck have a one night stand only to find that your world is a lot smaller than you initially thought

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, brief mention of grief

part two part three part four part five part six

word count: 6k

The LAX airport was crowded beyond belief and you were feeling yourself get overstimulated just by how many people were there. Every time you had touched down in LA, you regretted flying into that specific airport because of all of the foot traffic and actual traffic.

You took your suitcase and rolled it as you walked outside to wait for your friend Scarlett to pick you up. You checked your phone and noticed you had a bunch of messages from your uncle who was always a little too worried about you. You had flown down because you had gotten a nursing job in the city and he had insisted that a party be thrown in your honor because he was just so proud of you.

Scarlett’s familiar blue car rolled up to the curb and she popped the trunk where you put all of your luggage. She quickly got out of the car to help before pulling you into a tight hug.

“LA has been so boring without you, babe,” she sighed. “I’m so glad you’re back and for good this time.”

“Me too. You know I didn’t mean to leave you like that, it was just-my mom-“

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Scarlett gave your back a sympathetic rub before putting on her signature look that told you that she was up to something. “We’re going out tonight so I hope you brought something slutty to wear.”

“Of course I did.” You had brought your whole wardrobe so there was bound to be something that was up to her standards. She was definitely the more stylish one out of the two of you and you were glad to have her be your fashion consultant again, even though for the most part, you’d be wearing scrubs most of the time.

You both got into her car and you felt nervous about being back in the city. You had to go back to New Jersey when your mom had gotten sick and stayed after she passed because you were afraid to contact people again. You had completely cut contact from the outside world since you had lost her because she was the only person you had left and suddenly, she was gone.

Your uncle knew that you had just graduated nursing school and had helped you get a job at a hospital in LA, and you decided that you had been alone for long enough, so you packed up all your stuff and took the chance to move back, ready to be around your found family again.

Turned out, neither Scarlett nor your uncle had been upset with you about your silence and had been nothing but grateful that you were okay. They had assured you that they wanted to see you and Scarlett had even offered to let you stay with her until you got on your feet.

You were excited to see your uncle, though. He has gotten married since the last time you saw him and you were excited to meet his new family at the party he had insisted on throwing you a party to congratulate you on not only graduating but also getting your first job as an official nurse. He was so proud of you and bragged about your accomplishments to anyone who would listen.

Scarlett pulled up to her building and parked in the parking garage before helping you with your luggage, the two of you hauling it all to the elevator. Once on her floor, you both got to the correct apartment and threw the stuff on the floor, deciding that you would work on it later since your priorities were focused on going out. After everything that happened in New Jersey, you definitely felt like you deserved a drink.

As soon as she was inside, Scarlett threw the suitcase that she was holding down onto the couch then unzipped it before going through all of the clothes that were inside it, not finding what she was looking for. She then went through every single one of your suitcases and shook her head before heading to her room.

You followed her curiously and collapsed onto her bed as she went through her closet. Your clothes weren’t exactly as outgoing as hers, but you at least thought she would like something of yours.

“So I guess I’m borrowing something of yours tonight?” You asked, leaning up to look at her.

“Of course you are. You know I usually support your outfit decisions, babe, but none of those outfits are going to get you laid.”

“What if I don’t want to get laid?” You did, though. Probably a little too much.

“You haven’t seen a dick in two years,” she turned to look at you. “You want to get laid.”

“I’m not even sure I know how to do it anymore.” You didn’t have time to sleep with anyone with taking care of your mother and after she passed, you were so riddled with grief that you couldn’t get yourself to get back out there.

“It’s just like riding a bike. Or I guess riding a-“

“I get it, Scar,” you cut her off. “So what am I wearing tonight?” You weren’t sure you could pull off whatever she was going to pick out, but you were hopeful.

“This,” she pulled out a red dress that left practically nothing up to the imagination. It was short and would definitely show off your cleavage. She tossed it to you without another word and you went to the bathroom to change.

You peeled off your clothes and stared at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you were even ready to sleep with anyone just yet. You had gained some grief weight and could see it in your stomach. When you slipped the dress on, you could see your stomach poking out and felt the need to cover up, but figured you could have worn a jacket over it.

You hesitantly opened the door and stepped out into the bedroom. Scarlett turned to face you and a gasp escaped her lips once she caught sight of you. She stepped forward and looked you up and down.

“Damn,” she let out a whistle. “I might even be into you. Oh yeah, you’re definitely going to score tonight.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Not at all. You look hot. Now c’mon. Let’s get go get you someone to take home.” She grabbed you by the arm and called you both an Uber to head to the bar.

You were nervous to say the least. You hadn’t slept with anyone since your last boyfriend and he hadn’t exactly been able to please you in that way. It was always all about him and his needs. Maybe that night you’d be able to find someone who could please you more than Jared ever could.

The bar wasn’t nearly as crowded when you got there and you and Scarlett ordered your drinks. You looked around while you waited for them to be made, on the hunt for your hook up. Your eyes locked on a group of fire fighters and you felt your cheeks blush as you made eye contact with one of them. He gave you a wink and you turned back to Scarlett who was fanning herself dramatically with her hand.

“I think I’m having an emergency,” she told you and you just rolled your eyes.

“Is the emergency in your pants?” You asked with a pointed look and she just smirked.

“You know me so well,” she gave your shoulder a nudge and turned back to the bar where your drinks were sitting. You then followed her to an empty table, giving you a great view of the very cute firefighter who had caught your eye.

You could see Scarlett’s lips moving, but you couldn’t hear what she was saying, the man taking up all of your attention. His eyes didn’t leave you as you chatted with your friend.

Buck had frequented that bar more than he cared to admit. He recognized all of the regulars and you weren’t one of them because he definitely would have remembered you.

“Just buy her a drink, Buck,” Hen told him. She could see him eyeing you and just wanted him to make a move already.

“No,” he shook his head. “I-I’m not hooking up anymore, remember? I’m-“

“Buck three point oh,” the rest of the table finished for him. Was he really that predictable?

“With all due respect, Buckaroo,” Chimney spoke up. “No one said anything about hooking up. It’s just a conversation.”

As usual, Chimney’s word rang true. But even with a conversation, Buck was afraid that a conversation very easily could have led to sex and he was trying to cut back on that. It had been a few months since he had broken up with Taylor and he really wasn’t looking for anything, no matter how beautiful you looked and no matter how much he thought about what the dress you were wearing would look like on the floor of his bedroom.

“Yeah,” Eddie added. “Go talk to her. Do it.” He began chanting the last two words lowly and the others joined in, making Buck’s cheeks go pink.

He stood from the table and everyone cheered a little too loudly for his liking, catching your attention as he made his way over to your table. Scarlett saw the two of you making eyes at each other and decided to make herself scarce, heading over to the bar to find an empty stool she could occupy.

“May I?” Buck referred to the now empty seat across from you and you nodded. What were you going to do? Say no?

“Of course.”

“I’m Evan,” he smiled as he sat down.

“Y/n,” you replied and he nodded, taking a sip from his now empty beer.

“Y/n,” he repeated and you didn’t like just how much you enjoyed hearing him saying your name.

“Yup,” you nodded, taking a sip from your own drink.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” So many things, but mostly, the drinks. Evan was definitely going to be the one to make you stay.

“I just graduated nursing school.” Buck knew just how much it took to get through nursing school let alone to get a job as one, so he felt like you deserved a couple of drinks on him.

“Congrats. That’s a really big achievement. And you know what? Your drinks are on me tonight.”

“No, Evan. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” he shrugged. “I’m telling you that I’m buying your drinks. So what are you drinking?”

“Margarita on the rocks. Salt on the rim.”

“You got it,” he nodded and headed over to the bar, leaving you alone. You tried to play a little hard to get, not wanting to seem too available. While he had his back to you, you turned to look at him.

You let your eyes raked down his body, stopping at his ass, admiring the way his jeans hugged it and you found yourself wanting to stick your hand down them to get a handful for yourself.

As soon as Buck felt your eyes on him, he turned to look at you but you turned away, pulling your phone out of your purse to check your messages and they all happened to be from your uncle Robert.

Text me when you land!

Your flight landed at 8:30 and it is now 9:00. Why haven’t I heard from you?

Guess you’re having too much fun to get back your old uncle, huh?

You had completely forgotten that you had promised him that you’d tell him when you landed. Scarlett’s plan had totally derailed yours. Maybe you could end the night early and go see him to make it up to him. He was practically a father to you and was the whole reason you had a job in the first place so you felt like you owed it to him to do that.

Robert, I’m so sorry! Time got away from me and I completely forgot to get back to you!

That’s alright. You have a good night and I’ll see you on Saturday.

You set your phone back in your purse as Buck came back with your drink and he handed it to you with a bright smile on his face.

“Thank you,” you took the drink and took a sip before setting it down on the table.

“You’re very welcome,” he smiled again, taking a sip from his own drink that looked like the same one you had gotten. “So, you got a job lined up?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Got my first day next Monday.”

“Well, I think you’re going to be amazing. Cheers,” he held up his glass and you did the same, letting them clink together.

“I haven’t started the job yet.”

“Yeah, but I have a pretty good feeling about you,” he leaned back in his chair, studying you. “And I’m always right about these things.”

“If you say so,” you shrugged and licked the salt from your glass which Buck was having a hard time watching. He wanted you to do the exact same thing to him. To feel your hot tongue on his neck as you sucked on it, leaving the nastiest looking mark behind once were finished.

“Trust me,” he winked. “You’ll be great.” He took another sip of his drink and grimaced. “That’s terrible.”

“Oh, so you’re an alcohol snob, huh?”

“I drink the cheapest beers so I’m definitely not a snob. This is just the worst margarita I’ve ever had.” It wasn’t the worst you’d ever had, but it definitely wasn’t the best.

“Okay, maybe it sucks,” you admitted with a shrug.

“See?” He leaned back in this chair. “Always right.”

“Whatever you say, Evan,” you rolled your eyes.

After many drinks and a few shots, you were the only ones left in the bar, giggling and flirting with each other. Somehow, Buck had ended up in the chair to the left of yours, scooting so that it was right up against it. You were talking in hushed tones, amping up the flirting as more alcohol entered your systems.

His hand rested on your thigh as he leaned toward you, his lips right by your ear as he spoke. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin as he spoke, wondering what it would have felt like as he whispered the filthiest things into your ear.

“Do you wanna take things to my place?” He asked, his other hand moving to your shoulder, slipping under the strap of your dress.

“Yes,” you breathed and just chuckled at your reaction, loving how you were already coming undone and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“We could play Grand Theft Auto, maybe a little Mario Kart?”

“Oh, so you want to play games?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled again and the hot air being blown on your ear made you shiver. “All kinds of games.” He took your ear lobe between his teeth and gave it a little bite before pulling away completely just in time to watch your eyes glaze over with lust. He had you right where he wanted you.

Buck pulled you to your feet and payed the tab before leading you out to the parking lot where he pulled out his phone to get an Uber for you both. Neither of you had a drink for a couple of hours, but he still wanted to be safe.

He pulled you to his chest, watching you chew on your bottom lip, your red lipstick leaving a mark on your teeth. Buck watched you, completely captivated by your movements, wanting to know what your lips felt like, but not able to make the move.

You leaned closer to him, your eyes shifting to his lips. You looked back up at his eyes as if to ask for permission and he nodded, his lips parting slightly as he did so. Almost as if you had him in a trance.

You grabbed him by the back of the neck and your lips caught his bottom one just as a pair of headlights flashed in your direction as a vehicle pulled up to the curb.

“Uber for Evan?” The driver asked and Buck showed him the proof that it was him before the two of you got into the backseat. He gave the driver the address then turned to you, his hand moving back to your thigh, rubbing up and down it as you tried not to think about how you wanted it to move further up your dress.

You could imagine it perfectly: him slowly moving his hand up your thigh and underneath your dress, making his way to your underwear and sticking his hand down it, his fingers teasing your cunt, making you beg for him until he suddenly stuck his fingers inside of you to make all of your whining stop. He’d urge you to make some noise as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, telling you that you could scream his name as loud as you wanted to.

“I never told you, but you look beautiful tonight,” he said lowly in your ear, his hand giving your thigh a squeeze.

“Don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, your hand going to his thigh and giving it a squeeze in return.

“No, this isn’t about me,” he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Tonight is all about you.” You felt your cheeks blush and couldn’t help but feel like you needed to step up your flirting game just to keep up with him.

You could feel Buck pulling you forward, his eyes looking at your lips hungrily. He captured your top lip between his two and you moved together slowly, trying to figure out your movements, the feeling of each other’s lips so foreign to you both.

His other hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head up so he had more access to your mouth. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you opened up, letting it slide inside, holding back a moan as it swirled around yours.

Before things could get too heated, the car rolled up to Buck’s apartment building. You both got out and he took you by the hand, leading you inside, making a beeline for the elevator. He pressed the necessary button then pulled you into his arms, his lips slotting between yours once again. Your tongue swiped along his bottom lip just as the doors opened and you pushed him inside, your lips still connected.

You pushed him against the wall and slid your tongue into his mouth as you moved your hands up his t-shirt, getting a good feel of his pecks. You broke apart just to take his shirt off and your lips were back on his in a flash.

The elevator doors opened and Buck guided you down the hallway as your lips still moved together, him only breaking away to unlock his door and as soon as you were inside, he pushed you against it, pinning your hands to it as his lips moved to your neck, peppering the spot with kisses before going in for a rough suck, pulling a moan from your lips.

“Evan, oh my god.” He chuckled at that before continuing to scandalize your neck, his teeth grazing the skin, causing your fingernails to dig into his back as you let out another loud moan.

“Yeah? You like that, honey?” Neither of you quite knew where the term of endearment came from, but had to admit that you liked it. Very much.

“More, please.” He kind of liked the idea of you begging for him. Teasing you until you were whining for him. He licked a stripe across your neck then grazed it once again and he couldn’t feel you going limp in his arms.

He pulled you from the wall and mumbled the word “jump” against your skin and you did as he asked and he caught you, his hands moving to your ass as he attached your lips to his as he carried you up the stairs slowly.

He set you down on your feet and you both removed your shoes and kicked them aside before Buck laid you down onto the bed and climbed on top of you, his legs tangling with yours as his lips moved back to the hickey he was working on. You turned your head to the side to give him more access and he took advantage, burying his face completely into it, giving it another suck as yet another moan fell from your lips.

“God, fuck,” you whined and let your eyes close tight and pleasure rolled through your body. Your back arched and Buck took that as an opportunity to slip his hands behind you, his hands pressing to your back, moving down to your ass.

His hand slowly moved up your dress and cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze which caused you to yelp in surprise. He chuckled at your reaction and went it for one more hard suck to pull another moan from your lips before diffusing the sting with another swipe of his tongue along the sensitive spot before rolling off of you.

“Wait here for just a second? I’m just gonna grab something.” Before you could answer, he raced down the stairs on the hunt for something and you just laid there, trying to keep yourself from drying up while you waited for him to come back.

You decided to do a little snooping and looked around the room, your eyes catching his jacket that he wore when he was on duty. You found yourself wanting to try it on, but didn’t feel like you had the right since you had only just met and the fact that you wouldn’t have forgiven yourself if something had happened to it.

You slowly snuck over to it, your fantasy getting the best of you as you as you slowly removed it from the top of his duffel bag. You noticed what you assumed was his last name on the bottom of it. Buckley. You liked the sound of it. You slipped it on over your shoulders and slowly zipped it up only to hear Bucks voice behind you.

“What are you doing?” His tone was more amused than accusatory but you were still nervous as you turned around to face him.

“I was just-I honestly don’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll take it off.”

“No, leave it on. You look…hot.” Buck had never fantasized about anything like that, but he had to admit that seeing you in his uniform was definitely doing something for him.

“Yeah?” You asked stepping forward. You turned around and unzipped the jacket and pulled your dress down slowly, letting it pool at your feet, your thong following it, then turned back around. Your eyes filled with lust as you grabbed onto Buck’s hands and guided them up to the zipper.

“Wanna unzip me, Buckley?” You asked, your tone even more flirty than before and Buck swore that he was going to cream his pants. “Go ahead. I can see how badly you want it.”

Instead of unzipping the jacket, He pressed his lips to yours roughly, his tongue slipping into your mouth and you moaned at the feeling. He continued to kiss you senseless as his hand traveled down the jacket and to your cunt, his fingers teasing the outside and he could already feel your slick, feeling a little cocky about getting you that wet with most just his words. He was definitely back in the game.

“Evan, please,” you whined, begging for his finger to fuck you, but he was still teasing you, not entirely sure that you wanted it enough.

“Gonna need you to beg some more, honey. Not sure you want it enough.”

“Evan, c’mon,” you grabbed hold of his wrist, but he felt like needed a little bit more.

“Gonna need to be a little louder.”

“Please, Evan? Need your fingers so bad.” There it was. He shoved his fingers up your cunt and you gasped, not entirely prepared for them.

“Oh,” was all you were able to get out and you turned your back to him, pressing it to his chest so he could have more access and he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, eating up every last one of your delicious moans. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and it gave him perfect opportunity to watch you completely fall apart at his touch. If his fingers were driving you wild, he wondered just what his dick would do.

“You’re so tight, hon. But don’t worry, I’ll loosen you up real nice.” You had absolutely it doubt about that. He was already making you feel much more pleasure than your ex boyfriend and your vibrator combined.

“Faster,” you moaned. He was being too nice for your liking. You wanted his fingers to fuck you roughly in a way that it was almost concerning.

Buck moved his fingers the fastest he could and you moaned so loudly that he felt his dick hardening even more. Just a few more pumps and you were definitely going to orgasm.

“That’s it,” you told him. “Just like that.” His fingers curved and hit just the right spot to make you reach your climax, your back arching as you did so.

As soon as you came down from your high, Buck removed his fingers from you and turned you around to face him. He slowly brought his fingers covered in your slick up to his mouth and sucked on them, watching your face for your reaction.

His eyes darkened as he sucked on his fingers, licking them entirely clean and you watched him in shock, your cunt now a sopping wet mess. The final straw was when he slowly pulled them from his mouth and licked up the back of them, a devilish smirk making its way upon his face.

“Christ,” was all you were able to say and Buck stepped closer to you, grabbing you by the waist and pressing his lips to yours one more time. He slowly unzipped the jacket and you were getting more desperate for him the longer he took. You were just ready to let him have his way with you already. The jacket fell open and his eyes widened as he took in your naked body, part of it still hidden by the jacket, but the little taste was all he needed.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I mean-“ he tried to come up with something more complimentary, but he couldn’t. You were perfect. The exact kind of woman that always appeared in his dreams.

“Fuck.” His voice was deep and raspy and you felt yourself slick run down your thighs because of how wet you were.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night, Buckley? Or are you going to fuck me?”

“The second one,” he replied, grabbing you by the jacket and pressing his lips to yours roughly. “Definitely the second one.”

“Good boy,” you replied and you both felt his cock tent in his pants as soon as the words left your mouth. That seemed to be the final straw to get him up and he was straight up desperate for you now.

You unbuttoned his pants and pulled them along with his underwear to the floor, his dick springing free as you did so. You felt your mouth water as you thought about what it would feel like in your mouth. But now wasn’t the time. You just needed him inside you.

His cock was leaking with precum and the only other man you had slept with had never looked like that before. Seeing Buck, you had come to realize that you were never the problem.

You grabbed onto Buck’s shoulders and pushed him onto the bed and took the condom from his hand, rolling it onto his cock before placing yourself on top of him, taking no time to roll your hips into his.

Your hands went to your shoulder as you rode him, watching him come undone underneath you, letting him be the one to be teased. His moans were absolutely intoxicating and you moved harder and faster to make him come completely undone and it worked.

“You feel so good, honey,” he moaned. “Look so pretty on top of me.”

“No, you’re the pretty one,” you complimented. “Love how you look underneath me, Buckley.” God, you were good. He had never slept with someone who could keep up with his game and he almost thought that you were better at it than he was.

“And I feel good. You feel so good.” You continued to ride him, going the hardest and fastest that you could and you watched his face, eating up just how much you were able to please him as he let out moan after moan.

You were nothing but pleased with yourself as you watched him come absolutely undone, eating up every last one of his moans as you leaned over him, pressing your lips to his. They moved together as you continued to ride him. You moved your lips to his cheek and down to his neck and he moved his head to the side to give you more access.

You peppered the spot with kisses, mixing in your tongue in with it, licking across the spot and just that alone was enough to make Buck lose his mind. Between both the feeling of your lips and the fact that you were riding him, it was so overstimulating, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was having the time of his life.

You began to suck on the skin and Buck let out gasp even though he had been very aware of what you were doing. Continued to ride him as you sucked on his neck and he couldn’t feel that he was close, but still wanted you to continue. He wanted you to mark him up good.

You grazed the skin with your teeth and he moaned again, his nails digging into your back as you did so. He scratched down your back and you gave the spot a full on bite, pulling a groan out of him.

“So fucking good,” he said and you sucked on the spot again, swiping your tongue along it to diffuse the sting and just as you were finishing marking him up, he reached completion and collapsed back to the mattress, letting out a loud sigh as you got off of him and cleaned yourself up while Buck disposed of the condom.

As soon as you were done, Buck pulled you back down onto the mattress, leaning over you. His hand reached for you and he lowered himself on top of you to press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss before rolling off of you. He turned off his lamp and bid you goodnight along with a kiss before the two of you drifted off to sleep.

———

A loud siren woke you up from your sleep and you turned over to find that Buck was still there, his back facing you. So it hadn’t all been a dream. You had actually slept with him and it wasn’t just a very real fantasy that you had been playing out in your head.

He turned over and a smile broke out on his face as he caught sight of you. That you had actually stayed the night. It always seemed that women liked to leave him right after the act so he was surprised that you were still there.

He smiled back at him and he moved closer, pulling you in for a kiss before rolling out of bed. You laid in bed, watching him get dressed, trying to find a way to ask him if he wanted to go for round two after he got off work, but you decided against it. Maybe you were just meant to only be a one night stand.

“Heading to work?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighed. If Buck had it this way, he would have the day off and had his way with you the entire day, only getting up to go to the bathroom or eat.

“Sure I can’t make you stay?” You asked, pulling down the blanket to reveal your bare breasts and Buck could drool pooling in his mouth as he thought about how much he wanted to suck on them.

“No,” he shook his head to wipe the thought away. Once he was dressed, he made his way over to you and tilted your chin up. “I really have to go. And you have unpacking to do,” he reminded you of what you had told him at the bar. He pressed a kiss to your lips and handed you your dress.

“Kicking me out, Buckley?” You asked as he helped you put your dress on before handing you your thong. You put it on and Buck helped you up from the bed before grabbing his duffel bag and jacket.

“No,” he replied. “Just thought you’d want to be dressed when you walked me to the door.”

The two of you descended the steps and he pulled you to the door, resting his hands on your waist as he did so. His blue eyes bored into yours and he leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here until I get back, but I know you have things to do, so we can end things here.”

“That would be the right thing to do,” you pursed your lips. “But fuck being right,” you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slotted your lips between his, taking no time to swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, causing him to pull away.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he pointed at you and you just pulled him over to the staircase, attaching your lips to his.

“Life’s not fair, Buckley,” you told him as you led him up the stairs to go for round two.

Buck had been over an hour late to work and realized that he had a bunch of messages from the rest of the 118 asking where he was. Considering his shirt that was not buttoned correctly and his very kiss bitten lips, it was obvious what he had been up to.

He was met by Bobby when he entered the station and he let out a loud sight because he knew exactly what was coming and didn’t want to hear it. The others were nowhere to be found so he had no one to bail him out, so he was stuck listening to Bobby’s lecture.

“You’re late,” Bobby told him as he crossed his arms over his chest, like a parent who was scolding a child.

“I know, Bobby, and I’m sorry. Time got away from me.” Bobby eyed Buck’s shirt then looked back up at him.

“Clearly. Now don’t let it happen again.” With that, Bobby turned on his heel and headed up the stairs, leaving Buck alone.

Really? That was it? No lecture about how he had a responsibility to the 118? And what about the “new version” of himself that he was trying to become and wasn’t really making an effort since he had just slept with you?

Buck ascended the stairs and was met by the other members of the department turning to face him. They all knew why he was late and knew that he wouldn’t have been able to resist you. They just didn’t think that it would have lasted so that he would have been late to work.

“So, how’d it go?” Eddie asked as he sipped on a cup of coffee. Buck immediately wanted to make himself scarce because he was getting embarrassed. But he sat at the table anyway, the others joining him, wanting to hear about his night, but maybe not all of the details.

“Clearly very well,” Hen replied as she sat down to the left of Buck, spotting his very obvious hickey. She pulled his collar down to get a better look to which Buck pushed her hand away.

“Damn,” Chimney commented. “Guess that’s why you’re late, huh?”

“Sorry, I don’t remember this being any of your business and as close as we all are, I will never share my sex life with any of you.” As soon as he was done speaking, the alarm rang, causing them all to get up and race to the engine to answer a call, leaving the conversation for later. Much later if Buck could help it.

———

You and Scarlett arrived at Athena and Bobby’s right on time and the door opened, Bobby on the other side with a bright smile. He couldn’t have been more happy to see you. You were the only blood relation each other had and considering that your father was never around, Bobby had become one to you. And you were like a daughter to him and he was going to protect you no matter what he had to do to do so.

“There’s my girl,” he greeted, his arms open wide and he pulled you in for a tight hug, the both of you making up for lost time being wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Uncle Robert,” you replied into his chest. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, kiddo. Scarlett, get in here,” he waved her over and she joined the hug before the three of you pulled away.

“Come on in, there’s someone I want you to meet.” He led you over to a woman you could only assume was Athena. You had been nothing but happy for him that he had finally become himself again. He had gotten sober and even though he hadn’t fully healed from his guilt and grief, he was the happiest he had been in a long time and it warmed your heart to see that.

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” you told her and she was quick to pull you into a hug and you wrapped your arms around her in response.

“The feeling is very mutual,” she told you as she gave your back a light rub before pulling away. “You get in here too,” she gestured to Scarlett who she pulled in for a hug.

You looked at Athena and couldn’t have been more excited to meet the woman who made Bobby feel like Bobby again. From all of his texts and emails, it was clear that they were in love and that was what he had deserved after everything he had been through.

“And these are Athena’s children May and Harry and her ex-husband Michael.” They all received hugs as well and you were offered a drink as you waited for everyone else to arrive.

“The rest of 118 should be arriving soon and then we can eat,” Bobby announced. “I’m sure you must be hungry.”

“A little, but I’m fine,” you told him just as there was a knock on the door. Bobby ran to answer it and pretty soon, people were filing in.

Your heart warmed as you watched the living room filled with everyone your uncle had called family and you could help but feel honored that he had wanted you to meet them. That he wanted you all to get along and you sure that you would if Bobby liked them.

Your eyes looked over each person and you had to hold in your gasp as your eyes caught onto Evan. He was the “Buck” your uncle always talked about? He worked with your uncle? Your uncle was his boss and you had slept with him.

Buck’s eyes locked on yours and they widened as he went to approach you. What were you doing there? Who did you know that would have invited there? Unless…no. No way. You were Bobby’s niece?

#evan “buck” buckley #evan buckley x you #evan buckley smut #evan buckley fluff #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x y/n #911 abc #911 show #911 fox

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forlix · 1 year ago

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative

warnings・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack, alcohol is consumed, lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication, complex people feeling complex emotions, smut warnings under the cut

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

smut warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?”

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path.

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.”

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there.

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.”

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour.

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

“Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?”

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall.

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze.

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter.

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds.

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session.

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete.

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person.

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe.

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels.

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you.

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand.

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system.

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod.

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?”

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane.

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

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