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writingwisterias · 1 month ago

Note

Do you think you could write pornstar!leon x reader? I’m not in any rush, I just needed to get this idea out

I was thinking older Leon (40s-60s) x college student reader (early 20s at the youngest)

He’s been retired for quite a while, but you stumbled onto his old videos somehow, and you’re obsessed with them. I’m imagining he did them when he was a little older for one reason or another but he stopped. Maybe an erectile problem or he got bored of it. Or something entirely different, it’s up to you.

Then you meet him somehow, one thing leads to another and you’re fucking your favorite ex-pornstar <3

I don’t have anything else in mind, maybe a little good old cunnilingus and something about how the guys your age don’t know how to treat someone right. I don’t know I just needed to share this.

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! I really hope you enjoy because I've had the idea for so long and you have provided the best opportunity for it!!

Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Basically Porn, Dom Leon, Age-Gap, Sub Reader, Drinking, Rough sex, Light Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Filming, Unprotected Sex, Masturbation, Erectile dysfunction, implied sex addicts Words: 4.3k

Thank you Two n Eva for letting me ramble constantly again...and Shy for beta readings ily all (ignore me adding tags when I remember them it's late for me shh)

Part 2

It shouldn't be this hard. It’s not like he hasn’t done it a thousand times already. The method was simple, he could even use his own videos for reference if he wanted to. Leon squeezed the base yet again, willing the damn thing to even just twitch. It didn’t matter what he did anymore, his days of pleasure seemed to come to an end. The viagra that remained unopened in the bedside table was becoming tempting but that was a last resort, a pathetic one at that. It made him feel old to admit defeat like he’s lost his glory days.

Leon squeezed the base again, the pads of his fingers running along his sack. The stimulation gave him something, a small twitch barely noticeable with his dick in his tight grip. Yet, it was something, the only proof that it still had some energy left in the damn thing.

The tip was pink and sad staring at him from where he looked down on it. No longer was it that angry red colour, spewing out dribbles of pre cum eagerly. That’s why the fans liked him, he was messy. If only they could see him now, see this pathetic sight. His page remained bare, the last video posted almost a year ago now.

Not that it mattered, he had enough money from the ones he made because instead of turning it into some production he kept the shitty quality of his phone as it seemed enough for the majority. Well, at least he’s never read any complaint about it.

One more try, that’s what he would do, before either giving up or going for that drawer. His thumb brushed over the tip before he rolled it back. The roughness of his thumb is the perfect contrast to the sensitive skin. He could feel the slick form, a pathetic watery substance that would be no good for a film. With his hand still doing the motion Leon looked to the ceiling with a sigh, something that he did out of boredom didn’t even help him now. Years of abusing the rush of pleasure and his multiple orgasms a night have finally stabbed him in the back. His eyes flicked to the tv, the pictures lighting up the dark room. Never stopping the work on his flaccid cock as he prayed eventually it might spring to life.

Surely it was unhealthy to be obsessed with a guy like this, to watch the shitty pornhub videos he posted nearly every night like they were some bedtime programme. The cumshots, whimpers and moans all send shockwaves down to your core, the puffy nerve working quickly to ensure you know it's neediness. His face card was lethal, hair falling over his eyes that were lined with a dark look. It was all too tempting…arousing. Every night you found yourself in the same position, legs spread as wide as you could get them as your fingers circled your clit in teasingly slow motions whilst you watched the video on your laptop. Your pussy stuffed with the largest dildo you could find online. Always ensuring that you match the same pace of his actions. He never said anything, his groans were enough for you. The deep raspy tone was engraved in your every thought at this point, you were surprised it hadn’t turned into your inner monologue.

You watched his dick twitch in his hands, his hips buckling slightly, all signs that you had learnt was him nearing his end. You worked harder, moving the dildo deeper and slower just like his hips were moving. A punishing brutal pace with the soul goal of his own pleasure. The coil tightened, a thread ready to snap as the minutes of the videos counted down.

How many times have you done it tonight?

You poor clit abused, white hot pleasure searing through your system as your nerves set on fire. Your thighs clamping around both of your hands as you orgasm. The slick flooding out from between your fingers as your brain settles into the right mode to sleep. The fuzziness lingering like a drug. An addiction.

You watched with half-closed eyes and short breaths as he showed off the mess he made across the expanse of his abs. Giving off a subtle wink to the camera before it finally stopped. The date of the post made you frown, it was the most recent one…posted almost a year ago. You couldn’t help the thought’s circling about his life now. Wondering if he would ever post again. Maybe he has kids now, a wife, someone to spoil all the money he earned on.

The parasocial relationship you had formed with him was wrong and a stupid thing to cling onto. You were sure to be the only activity on his page anymore; there was definitely no one else was this insane to choose only one pornstar to get off to. Let alone the one who hasn’t posted anything recently. His videos were always more like a home video, shitty quality, barely audible, it really wouldn’t surprise you if he filmed them on a camcorder.

You weren’t even sure if any other dick would get you off at this point – not that you had anything other than the dildo to use. Though, if you did manage to bring someone home, you suppose you could beg for them to quiet as you closed your eyes to imagine him. The thought caused embarrassment to settle in your stomach, the sex addict he had made you become was shameful at least that's what you had been raised to believe.

A woman shouldn’t be this in tune and free with her sexual side, it was always wrong according to your parents. Your sexuality was something for a man to explore and take only for himself. It wasn’t for you, it shouldn’t be pleasurable for you. If your friends knew, they would also shame you for this. They didn’t need anymore fuel for how lonely you were, your search history would surely traumatise them.

Your eyes flicked down to the corner of your laptop, blinking away the tears that lingered in your waterline, to see the time. 30 minutes to get ready before you leave for drinks with your friends. To see the indie rock band that was playing tonight, your friend's boyfriend, the lead singer. You had no idea why that meant you had to go, though the promise of their bar tab convinced you. There was no hope in going home with someone, never was anymore. All the old fucks that lined the seats of that took away the eyecandy you were looking for and if you did find them…well even you knew that you deserved better than some small dick looking for a quicky.

Your outfit was simple and comfortable. The jeans hugging you perfectly, the top low cut enough to show off the girls that were definitely co-operating tonight for a change. Their perkiness was evident in every step you took towards the bar, holding your arms around yourself to fight off the lingering cold in the air. You wafted through the cloud of second hand smoke, breathing the scent in deeply allowing it to settle in your lungs. Old habits never strayed too far from reach you suppose.

The music vibrated through the floor, bodies bumping into as you made your way to the stage. Your friend greeted you with a large smile, her eyes sparkling with joy as she glanced back at her boyfriend. Their relationship was sweet, full of honeymoon type of love and appreciation. You envied them, that somehow in this crap world they managed to find a sweet relationship. You weren’t built for that, not when you were here at this moment and all you could think about was returning home and dealing with the pulsing need in your underwear.

A drink was shoved in your hand, one from her ‘to loosen you up a bit’ apparently. You looked too tense, ridgid for someone that was here to have fun and enjoy the moment. The neat whiskey burned on the way down, settling somewhere deep in your chest. It warmed you, distracted you; both were welcomed in this scenario. “Is everything alright tonight? You’re like a wooden doll” Your friend laughed as she walked you over to the bar. Her grip was at least grounding, stopping the internal fire blazing inside you. “Yeah I’m good, just a rough day”

“Good job you’re here then” she laughed, handing you another drink. You watched the amber liquid swirl, the condensation running down the sides of glass reminding you too much of him. Of the scenes you have watched over and over again. She waved her hand in front of your face, breaking the trance you had on the droplets. “Are you sure you are okay?”

How could you tell her that you were itching to return home? To lay in your soft sheets and watch him. Your skin burned – desire running through you constantly. You couldn’t do anything about it, everything reminded you of him.

“Drink to forget?” You responded, smiling weakly at your friend. Hers only grew a wild look in her eye before calling a round of shots, bringing you into a side hug whilst giggling. It definitely worked. Your body felt lighter, happier. That burning desire now muted until you at least got home. Your hips swaying with hers, smiles and laughter filling the bubble you had formed around yourselves.

It was your turn to collect the next round of drinks, your shoes dragged across the floor, boots scuffing against the things that had fallen out of people's pockets. Barely avoiding people's elbows as you passed them. You attempted to avoid looking at the couples pressed against the walls, their lips locking onto each other in a heated exchange of passion. Thankfully their moans are muted by the volume of the guitar.

Yet, you froze in place as your eyes fell upon the slumped figure at the bar. You tried blinking away the drunken haze, the one that blurred with the lights of the bar whilst you observed every curve of the muscle he bore, the nose bridge…hands wrapped around the beer bottle. It couldn’t be. No you weren’t that unlucky and lucky at the same time. Not when you were finally forgetting about him tonight, about the fantasies and daydreams over what he would be like.

His head lifted as his eyes scanned over the pool of people dancing, the flashing lights blurring their movements. Except for yours because you were still stationary like an idiot, looking right at him. He observed your form as you finally finished the journey to the bar and ordered a large cocktail topped with ice and a glazed cherry. Leon's eyes ran over your chest as you leant against the bar. Your chest was moving slowly and deeply like you were trying to calm yourself. Your nails are scratching at the rings of alcohol that were left on it that your focus now remained on. He couldn’t approach you like he would have in the past, the obvious age gap didn’t bother him. Your youthful skin would feel heavenly under his calloused fingertips. No, the lack of the twitch in his trousers as he perved on you was a reminder that after his failed attempt earlier to get this shit to work before he gave up and dragged himself here. At least the band playing tonight was actually decent. For once.

He never looked away, not once. Not even as people filtered in front of his line of sight. Everytime you allowed your eyes to drift over to him, he was still watching; taking slow sips of the beer he was nursing. The temperature of the drink cooled your skin as you took it from the bartender, savouring the liquid encouragement as you sipped on it. The cherry cola cocktail settled better than the whiskey you had drank earlier. It was dangerous mixing your drinks, each drink adding to the tipsy haze you bore. The cherry was sweet as you slipped it into your mouth. The vodka infused with it makes you smile.

Leon couldn’t pull his eyes away if he wanted to, not as you drank. Your neck looked perfect as you extended it whilst lifting the glass, your lips curving into a smile as you chewed on the alcoholic cherry. He licked his lips as he watched, almost trying to imagine which part of your neck would be the most sensitive spot to suck one. Which spot would force you to sing perfectly to him? Would it taste like sweat and perfume as he kissed your neck? Or remain flavorless like all the girls he was with before.

You smiled when your eyes finally met again, a big toothy grin that proudly displayed the cherry stem from between your lips.

Perfectly tied.

It was only then he felt the throb, the one he's craved to feel for over a year. His cock quickly worked its way to a semi as he watched you saunter over. Your perfume filled his senses as you slid into the chair next to him. His suspicions on what you would taste like as it smelled expensive. Moving to sit with him was a bold move on your behalf but with the liquid encouragement flowing through your system you just decided to run with it. If this worked, you would be a fool to waste this chance. You simply place the stem on the bar in front of him, now glaringly obvious you were skilled with your tongue.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” He chuckled. His blue eyes now bore that dark look underneath the strands of hair that fell over his face. Leon leaned back in the stool, his chest turned towards you. The shirt was tight, straining against him as he moved showcasing everything you knew lies beneath. “Research, thought it would be a useful skill to learn” You teased, your body subconsciously leaning towards him. His deep musk hit your senses, the linger smell of the beer in the air he exhaled. It was intoxicating, just as you imagined it would be.

“You always do this?” He asked again, the green bottle putting some distance between the two of you as he sipped on it again. The condensation ran over his fingers as he raised it. Leon smirked against the rim of the bottle as he watched your eyes flick over his hand. “Only with guys that eye fuck me across the bar” You retorted, blinking slightly as you looked back towards his eyes. He hummed deeply, considering his next actions which were largely influenced by the throb of his cock. “How often does that happen?”

“Calling me pretty?”

Leon chuckled, finally leaning forward into your space. His hand landed on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. “I’d be lying if I said you weren’t”

You scanned his face, breath faltering at his closeness. Everything faded to the background, you forgot where you were, why you were here. All gone as you savoured the addiction of his smell, the curve of his features now they were close enough. You wanted to whimper his name, kiss his lips until they puffed up more. Leon smiled as your tongue darted out between your lips, licking them slightly. Your saliva creates the perfect gloss across them, making them even more tempting.

As soon as your lips met you melted. Your hands found the inner curve of his thigh as you moved closer, leaning into him for support. The passion was addictive as the kiss grew heated, his touch set you on fire as his hand cupped your jaw possessively. When he finally pulled away, he laughed as you chased after him. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours”

His hand was larger than yours as he pulled you along with him out of the bar. The cloud of smoke greeted you again, settling deeply in your system as you both waited for the cab. His lips were upon you again, chasing the growing erection in his trousers. The one that was now becoming painfully hard, not that he would argue. He grinned into your lips, held you closer letting you feel it against your stomach. Feel the want, need, hunger he had for you.

The cab ride continued the heated exchange and wandering hands as he cupped your body, fingers rubbing over your peaked nipples through the fabric of your shirt. You almost felt bad for the driver…almost. Never would you have expected him to be so needy. To seem like he wanted this just as much as you. Not with his extensive collection of media anyway, surely you were just another fuck and you should be pawning over him more than he was over you.

The door slammed shut behind the two of you, both immediately toeing off your shoes without breaking the kiss. He leads you further inside, his hands stripping clothes like a trail. Leading all the way to the infamous room, the bed with sheets that smelled like him. That collected everything he proudly showed off in his media. He was painfully hard now, his cock tenting obviously in his underwear as he pushed you on the edge of the bed.

Leon’s cheeks were flushed, his chest heaving as he stared down at you. The black lace that decorated your body, hiding the things he wanted to taste and feel the most from view. You were magic, a drug to him. Lust finally only filled his senses as his cock twitched against the fabric. No longer was it pathetic and weak like earlier. Fuck he felt great, alive again…

You removed your bra, displaying the perfect peaks to him as you stretched your arms above your chest. He licked his lips, watching them bounce with your movements. Grinning as you laid back against the bed, lifting your hips to remove the underwear that covered your sex. Proudly displaying the weeping mess to him, as a juicy dessert for him to devour if he pleased.

The whine that left your lips was embarrassing as he pulled his boxers down. You were greeted with a live viewing of his leaking tip, the substance no longer that pathetic watery mess he produced recently. You finally got him working again. You moved up the bed as he hovered over you, smiling as you were surrounded by every sense of him. The giddiness of your dreams peaking through. As he began to rub his cock through the wetness of your folds you couldn’t help but moan. The syllables of his name were drawn out as he teased your clit with his tip.

But he hadn’t told you his name.

His hands grasped your cheeks tightly, bringing your eyes back to him with a widened stare. “What did you say?” He demanded. You looked up at him dumbfounded, your brain scrambling for an excuse that would stop the flood of embarrassment. “How do you know my name?” He continued, his grip loosening as he stared down at you. His cock twitching at your entrance. It was all too arousing.

“Y-your videos…” You sputtered out, hips pathetically lifting from the bed to continue the feeling of his movements earlier. Your stomach tightening as a sly grin began to form on his face. “What a little whore I’ve found…a fan of mine hm? Wanted to get a feel of this?”

He emphasised the question by notching his tip at your entrance, feeling the tight hole clench and twitch around it. “Y-yes” You admitted, eyes never leaving him. Leon pulled back, his thighs moving underneath yours as he reached over for his phone. Left abandoned on the side earlier in the night. It didn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for. The extensive list of his filmography highlighting your features as he turned the device towards you. “Which ones are your favourite then, sweetheart?” He chuckled.

The question was a hard one to answer if it had been asked by anyone in general, but now he was asking it? You felt the pressure, the shame of having to admit which one you touched yourself to the most, the one that made you the wettest. “This one” You whispered, clicking on it. Only to then be met with the shlick sounds of him rubbing himself. The tip appeared and disappeared between his fists in a rapid motion, unlike the speed he was now teasing you with. “You liked watching me get myself off, pumping this hard throbbing cock towards the camera?”

You responded with a nod, hiding your features in the bedding beside you. No he wouldn’t let you do that. Not when his cock was practically screaming to be sheathed inside your warmth. To feel your perfectly aroused pussy throb around him. He stopped his movements, the sound of the video barely audible over your panting.

Leon gripped at your face again, guiding you to look at him. “Such a dirty girl you are” He teased as he finally pressed himself into you. His own noises became pathetic whimpers as he finally felt himself be surrounded by his addiction, finally giving into the craving after his body forced him to go cold turkey from. He didn’t need the meds that still lied in the drawer next to you, not when your perky breasts moved against his chest. The nipples peaked and sensitive as the movements forced moans out of you. His name was heaven on your lips, the perfect melody.

You didn’t notice that Leon had now leaned back again, not when he was assaulting you with the perfect amount of pleasure. His hips moving in a slow grind, hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you. There was no point holding back your moans, not when you felt his cock throb inside you at every one. You felt the puffy vein you always wanted to trace with your tongue running along inside you, his cock barely existing before he drove it back.Then you heard the beep of his phone camera recording and his deep chuckle.

“What a lucky fan you are” he spoke, the camera aimed at the action of him entering and leaving.

“Be a good girl and hold this steady, yeah?” He instructed, angling the camera in your hands for the perfect view of him drilling into you. The change of pace was intense with how sudden it was, the rhythm soon becoming the perfect thing you needed as the coil quickly tightened up. However, Leon wasn’t aiming for your release, only his own. You began to move against him, squirming away as you lingered on the edge of overstimulation.

“Hold it steady now”

Leon groaned at your whine, at each clench you lovingly offered him. His hand held yours, angling the camera back at the money shot where his cock drove into you. Removing his cock only once to circle your clit with the tip. Finally now angry and red again for the camera, weeping his pre all over your untouched skin. He was making a mess of you, a glorious one. The pleasure was perfect as he chased his own. His hips moved faster and faster until they became a bruising pace.

He looked perfectly like this, hovering about you. It was everything you ever imagined and thought of during the day. His eyes remained screwed shut as he took in what he craved. “Fucking perfect” he grunted. He never spoke in his videos, only producing his grunts and moans. This was a first…a first for a lot of things.

The most important one being his first orgasm in a year. He never released he needed a younger pussy, a perfectly neat one for him to abuse and ruin with the size of him. To mould it for only him and no one else. He sucked against your skin, nipping at your breasts, releasing them with a loud pop. “Fucking hell…”

You felt his hips buck harshly, a groan leaving his lips…the signs of his release. You moaned his name again as his finger toyed with your clit. The muscles of your tights twitching as you finally orgasmed with a desperate whine. You felt like you were on cloud nine, with the added tipsiness of the bar earlier. Leon continued to assault you through it, the fuzziness of the evening blending together as all his blood rushed south. He pulled out of you, aiming his cock towards the phone and was still angled at the action. With a few harsh pumps, his load came spurting out coating your body in his translucent substance.

Your chests heaved as you stared at each other with lust blown eyes. The post orgasm status settling in. Regret from either of you nowhere to be found, only the neediness and desire for another round.

It wasn’t until a few days later you got the text from him. Opting to not contact him first in fear of looking even more like a crazed fan. Despite the fact he wanted to keep in contact. You must have been a pretty good fuck then. The thought offered a light ego boost for a few days at least. To Leon you were perfect, his cock constantly throbbing to life now he had the crappy video on his phone but he wasn’t selfish. It was only fair that you got to see your side of the action, to witness the pornographic moment of that night. Which you helped create.

‘Did you see the video?’

Confused, you checked his page, waiting for the small circle to stop spinning in the corner of your laptop. The title made you blush, the throbbing need that had been satiated for the past few days rushing back quickly.

SHY FREAK GETS FUCKED BY HER IDOL

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #~mads rambles #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon smut #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you

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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months ago

Text

i keep you clean; you surrounded me

in which husband!spencer reid spirals after realizing he can't be your daughter's hero forever.

angst, fluff warnings/tags: this fic is about spencer's past addiction, and how he's afraid it will impact his relationship with his daughter, conversation about alcohol, this is a fix-it fic for my life, ends on a hopeful/positive note, lots of self-loathing from Spencer, uses the phrase "shooting up", PLEASE do not read if this is going to upset you!! PLEASE!! fem!reader a/n: this felt healing in a way for me but that might not be your experience reading if you also have issues with a parent with addiction so please tread lightly and make the right choices for you. CHOOSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH OVER MY DUMB FANFIC I CAN'T STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! and ily

“Daddy?”

Ada’s not asking for you, but you look to her anyway. She’s squeezed between you and Spencer on Rossi’s swing, and her cheeks are still feverish—remnants of a recent and rather hysterical fit of giggles. She has a glass of lemonade between her little hands (you’re trusting her with a big girl cup, if only because it’s not your glass or your house) and she peers into it intently. Her little grass-stained feet kick. Spencer pushes the swing back ever so slightly, for her entertainment.

“Huh?”

She holds her glass up for him.

“Our drinks are the same color.”

“They are,” he nods. “Do you like yellow?”

Ada shrugs. It’s exaggerated—one of her favorite moves as of late. “It’s okay.”

Spencer glances at you like he always does when he sees glimpses of you in your child, eyes sparkling as if her opinionated and bluntly honest nature is in any way reminiscent of you.

“Yeah, I agree. Yellow is just okay.”

She leans against him and he’s quick to accommodate her, affectionately brushing his knuckles over your bare shoulder as he slings his arm across the back of the swing.

“Daddy?”

“What, lovebug?”

You smile, letting your head fall back and your eyes close. The sun is warm on your face.

“Mommy’s drink is red.”

Nothing gets past her. Rossi had pushed the drink into your hand almost the second you stepped through the door, insisting it would go well with lunch. It sits otherwise untouched on the glass table.

Spencer hums. The swing rocks gently.

“That’s because she’s not having lemonade like us. She’s having a grownup drink.”

“Oh.”

You think that’s the end of it, that she’s satisfied with the answer, until another moment passes, and her voice, sweet as the tinkle of little fairy bells, is posing a very loaded question.

“Why don’t you ever have grownup drinks? Me and you always have the same.”

Spencer’s already looking at you, brows drawn as you sit up. Your eyes, open now, go wide, and you shake your head slightly to signal you have no idea how he’s supposed to respond either.

His hand goes to Ada’s hair, gently scratching her scalp as his eyes dart over your face. You can see the gears turning in his head. This is one of very few things he clearly didn’t read about in any of the literature on raising kids when you were pregnant.

“I… some people don’t like grownup drinks.”

It’s an inadequate answer, especially coming from Spencer—just this morning he explained to Ada why the sky is blue. Rayleigh scattering. Blue light scatters more than any other kind of light. Which then led to an impromptu lesson on oxygen molecules and other basic chemistry in the car on the way here.

So there are standards.

“Why not?”

You interrupt, unable to watch Spencer flounder any longer. “Ada, why don’t you go see what Henry and JJ and Uncle Dave are doing? That looks fun, right?”

You gesture down the yard to where JJ and Rossi are teaching Henry to play cornhole.

She looks at you with big brown eyes—the set of them, the color—those are all Spencer.

“Can you and daddy come?”

You straighten out her dress and take the half-full glass from her little hands, setting it next to your own on the table.

“In a minute. Go ahead.”

Spencer’s hand slips from her hair as she pushes off the swing and bounds down the yard. You make sure she arrives to her destination without incident, before scooting closer to your husband and taking his vacant hand.

“Spence?” You ask quietly, leaning in to try and insert yourself into his eye line. He doesn’t look away from Ada.

“That was bad.”

“It wasn’t. She doesn’t understand. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t—”

He looks down, lips pressed together, and your heart twists and drops like overripe fruit from the vine as you realize his eyes have glossed over.

“Baby,” you whisper, relinquishing his hand only so you can rub his back. Your other finds his knee, drawing as close as you possibly can. “It’s okay.”

“How am I supposed to explain it to her?”

A tear falls, making a dark splotch on the fabric of his pants.

“You don’t have to. She’s only five. I guarantee she’s already forgotten all about it.”

“I will. I’ll have to tell her one day. She thinks I’m perfect, how am I supposed to—”

He stops himself, voice tightening to a halt. You watch him hold back a cry like you haven’t seen in years. It’s an old, familiar ache for you. You can’t imagine how it feels for him.

“Spencer,” you coo. “She adores you. She loves you so much. That’s never going to change.”

His nose twitches.

“I’m going to disappoint her.”

“How? How are you going to disappoint her?”

“I think it’s pretty disappointing to find out your dad is a junkie.”

His tone isn’t particularly harsh but the words are like a slap anyway.

“Spencer…” For a moment you don’t know what else to say. It’s not a secret that he’s ashamed of that chapter in his life, but you had no idea he was contending with this much self-loathing over it, even after all this time. It seems like such a distant point in the rearview mirror that the two of you almost never need to talk about it anymore. “You are not a junkie. It’s been, what—a decade?”

“I don’t want to have to tell her what drugs are, let alone that I... she thinks I’m the smartest guy in the world, and one day I’ll have to tell her that drugs are extremely dangerous, and I was shooting up for four months anyway. No matter how I try to explain it to her the ultimate takeaway is going to be that I’m weak and I wasn’t smart enough and she’s never, ever going to forget that. How am I supposed to—I can’t be a role model for her. I fucked up so badly.”

Your chest aches, somewhere deep and hollow, as he leans forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, only for a moment—before Ada shrieks and his head snaps back up. Henry is chasing her with a worm. Spencer watches on, tears still leaking from his eyes and expression otherwise neutral. It’s bittersweet to hear him express such deep insecurity about the thing he’s best at in the world, even as those parental instincts kick in and he’s setting aside his own feelings to keep an eye on her. He’s never trusted himself. He’s never seen himself the way you do.

“Baby, you are her dad and she loves you. Her love for you is not contingent on your past. You are so, so good to her. That’s all she knows, okay? She doesn’t care what you were doing when you were 25. She cares about whether you’ll be home for dinner, and if you’ll play dolls with her, and if you’ll tuck her in. That’s all she needs to love you.”

JJ wrangles the kids and after a moment Spencer looks down again, brow furrowed deeply as drops like rain dot his lap, but he hardly makes a sound. You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “And until she’s old enough for the whole story, which involves a lot more violence than I am comfortable with her being subjected to right now, you don’t need to explain it to her. You have time.”

“She wants to know now.”

“She also wants icecream for every meal. But I can’t make her understand why that’s a bad idea. What she wants and what she needs and what she is capable of understanding are all different categories. I know you love answering all her questions, and you’re a really good teacher, but you can’t make her understand something as complex as addiction.”

Spencer sniffs.

“Developmentally she’s only really capable of understanding the world as it exists in relation to herself.”

“Exactly. So give her some time, and give yourself some time.”

“What if she asks again?”

“Then… you say you don’t like how it makes you feel. And tell her to clean up her toys. Condition her to stop asking.”

Spencer stumbles over a teary laugh he hadn’t been expecting. You sit up straight, holding his face between your hands and encouraging him to look at you. His cheeks shine with tears, but you wipe them away tenderly.

“You’re perfect to her,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to one cheek, “and you’re perfect to me.” He cups your elbow as you kiss the other and looks at you with so much sheer adoration you could get all choked up, too.

“Wow,” he sniffles, and takes a deep breath, pulling you into him, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” you mumble into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as he presses three kisses to the curve of your neck where he’s buried his face.

“I could be canonized as a saint and not deserve you.”

Sainthood. You ponder that.

Saints have to live virtuously. They also have to be dead.

You hold him a little tighter. You like him exactly how he is: technically imperfect. Probably not getting into heaven. Still venerable. Very much heroic. Alive, and with you.

“I’m really glad you’re not a saint.”

He chuckles. His hand slides up your back, and then side to side—a path it’s made time and time again which has only ever led you to wonderful, perfect places.

“Me too.”

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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pennyellee · 1 year ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

side B

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy - @mylyus-blog - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim - @doulcha - @sexytholland - @minyngr - @mizuumii @ali99eel - @loomipee @jkslvsnella - @tearykth - @iveivory - @lachimolalajeon - @mother2monsters

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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kxsagi · 13 days ago

Note

Hihihi! I just stumbled upon your blog after taking a break from Tumblr, and I adore your writing!💕

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought I'd send one! I've never done this before, lmao, so sorry if I mess something up!

I was wondering if you could write something about arguing with the BL boys and then suddenly flashing them in the middle of it, asking them if they're still mad now?

I saw that you were fine with suggestive stuff in your rules, but feel free to ignore this if it's too much! I won't ask for specific characters other than maybe Chigiri? Thank you in advance for reading this! I hope you have an amazing day!💕

“𝐧𝐨, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰”

a/n: thank you girlie, you're so sweet, have an amazing day as well! 😚

title is a meddle about reference chase atlantic girls ily

suggestive content inside!

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, ness alexis, niko ikki, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae

itoshi rin

you’re squaring up with him in the kitchen, halfway into a dramatic rant about how he never wipes down the counter after making his protein shakes.

"do you know what cleaning is, rin? do you even see crumbs or is your brain like–"

you cut yourself off, suddenly gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up with the speed of a magician doing a card trick.

just. flash. like it’s the most casual part of your sentence.

rin freezes. his jaw clenches, his whole body goes taut like he just got sniped from a rooftop.

he doesn’t speak. doesn’t blink.

his eye twitches like his brain is trying to keep functioning but a giant red ERROR screen just popped up in his mind.

“… did you just… what is wrong with you,” he hisses, voice low and stunned.

“you still mad?”

he looks at you like you summoned the devil. “… you are so annoying. get over here.”

he says it like a threat, but he's already reaching for you with dangerous intent.

argument forgotten. you’ve created a new problem.

isagi yoichi

you two are in the living room, arms crossed, facing off like two lawyers in a petty court show.

"you NEVER close the cereal box. it gets stale, yoichi. stale. it’s like chewing cardboard."

he’s rolling his eyes, "it’s not that deep–"

you sigh like you’re done. then, without warning, you lift your shirt and flash him like you’re unveiling a secret treasure.

it takes him exactly 1.5 seconds to process what just happened.

he literally chokes on his own spit.

“WAIT?! wait, wait, wait–”

his voice jumps three octaves. his hands flail like he’s trying to rewind reality.

“did you just–?! are you crazy?! i was–i mean, we were fighting!”

you just smile innocently. “you still mad, though?”

he’s red from the neck up, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“i-i need a timeout. a breather. some water. i–”

spends the next 10 minutes pacing in the kitchen muttering, “i’m dating a menace” with a lovesick grin, replaying the image in his head like a perv.

nagi seishiro

he’s lying on the couch, playing games, while you rant about how he left his laundry in the washer again.

“it’s gonna get moldy, sei! do you even care?! i’m not your maid!”

he groans. “too loud. i can’t hear my game.”

and that’s it. you snap.

you walk over and lift your hoodie in one swift move, flashing him right as he scores a kill.

he literally drops the controller.

“woah.” eyes locked. mouth slightly open.

he just blinks and says, “that’s not fair. now i forgot what i was mad about.”

“you weren’t mad.”

“exactly. we’re even now.”

immediately lies down with his head in your lap, face smushed against your thighs like he’s done anything productive all day.

mutters into your skin, “flash me again? i need it for my health.”

chigiri hyoma

you’re in his room, arms crossed, glaring at him for bailing on a hangout to go to the gym again.

“you didn’t even text. i sat there alone for 40 minutes–”

he tries to cut in. “pretty, i told you i had–”

you ignore him. you step closer, grab the edge of your shirt with both hands, and–

flash.

his jaw drops. his soul leaves his body.

“what the hell?!”

his face explodes in red, like he got hit by a tomato.

“what was that? was that a power move?!”

“you still mad at me?”

he swallows. hard. “… i was gonna defend myself but now i wanna marry you so i win either way.”

immediately flops onto the bed and yells into a pillow.

refuses to look you in the eye for 10 minutes.

whispers later, “i love you, but i’m never winning another argument again, am i?”

mikage reo

he’s mid-speech about how you should “just let him spoil you,” and you’re mid-speech about how “you don’t need a $500 pair of slippers.”

the room is tense. luxurious. slightly dramatic.

you interrupt yourself mid-sentence by slipping off your oversized sweater with flair, flashing him like you’re presenting a damn exhibit.

reo’s reaction is instant.

his mouth slowly curves into the cockiest, hungriest smile you’ve ever seen.

his voice drops two octaves.

“oh? that’s how we’re playing now?”

“you still mad?”

“i wasn’t mad, but now i’m incredibly distracted.”

walks toward you like a man possessed.

says dumb flirty things like, “wanna be my sugarbaby and my therapist?”

spoiler: you never finish the argument.

he wires money to your account and takes off his own shirt just to match.

kaiser michael

he’s all smug and loud, spinning around in a designer chair like he owns the universe.

you’re arguing about his ego.

“you can’t call yourself ‘a gift from god’ in front of my parents.”

he smirks. “they agreed with me.”

you stare him down. then without breaking eye contact, you pull your shirt up and flash him with zero hesitation.

he blinks once. twice. then he smirks wider.

“… oh, liebe. that was dangerous.”

leans back in his chair, tongue poking the inside of his cheek like he’s trying not to get feral too fast.

“are you still mad?”

“no. but you’ve signed yourself up for so much trouble.”

five seconds later: you’re on his lap.

he calls you a “cheater” while whispering unholy things in german.

you never win the argument, but now neither does he.

karasu tabito

he’s being an idiot. again.

said something sarcastic. you called him out. now it’s five minutes of dumb back-and-forth in the hallway.

you sigh. “you know what?”

you reach down, pull up your shirt, and flash him like you’re changing the subject on a powerpoint slide.

he gasps. no, squeaks.

stumbles backward into the wall like you just slapped him with a holy vision.

“MA’AM?!”

staring at you like you just performed a magic trick.

“you still mad?”

he shakes his head, stunned. “not mad. but i might need a moment to process this. maybe therapy.”

starts cracking jokes to cope. “was that a jumpscare or a proposal? because either way, i’m in love.”

never stops talking about it.

refers to it later as “the day he saw god.”

ness alexis

you were in the middle of a heated argument (probably about kaiser).

“why do you let him treat you like that? he’s not your boyfriend, alexis–”

“he’s not treating me badly! you just don’t understand him!”

and he’s got his hand on his chest, eyes glossy, one foot already stomping into a diva spiral.

you inhale slowly. then–

flash. shirt up. deadpan face.

he stops. dead silent. his hands freeze mid-gesture, trembling ever so slightly. eyes wide, lips parted like he just got slapped with a romance novel.

“... you’re weaponizing your chest.”

“you still mad?”

he blinks. gasps.

covers his face with both hands, voice cracking, “y-you can’t just DO THAT! i’m vulnerable!”

starts crying-laughing like a victorian wife who saw her husband naked for the first time.

he’s pacing. dramatically.

"i feel faint. lightheaded. i need to sit. or lie down. preferably on top of you. for stability."

somehow the fight ends with him in your lap.

whispers, "don’t tell kaiser. he’ll start using it against me."

niko ikki

you’re arguing about him spending 6 straight hours on his game, ignoring your texts.

“do you even remember you have a girlfriend, or is league your real soulmate?!”

he frowns, flustered. “i was in ranked! you always say you want me to do what i love–”

flash.

you just hit him with a quick shirt lift and stare him down.

his pupils dilate like he just activated his sharingan. his blue lens glasses slip down his nose. his mouth opens. closes.

he’s buffering like a video on 2G data.

“what the hell was that for?!”

“you still mad at me?”

he’s trying so hard not to look again.

“… i’m not mad, but i’m deeply concerned for my sanity right now.”

you smirk, turning away like the boss you are.

behind you, he silently clenches his fist and mutters, “i love her so much it’s ruining my life.”

texts you later from the next room: “you made me knock over my water.”

shidou ryusei

you’re in the middle of a heated argument, likely because shidou can’t take a hint.

“i’ve told you a thousand times to stop leaving your clothes everywhere!”

“i literally live here. where else am i supposed to put them?”

“on your damn body, for starters!”

he’s grinning like the chaotic gremlin he is, clearly trying to get under your skin.

you stare at him for a moment, silently deciding: this ends now.

flash.

you yank your shirt up, but keep your eyes locked on him. no warning. no hesitation.

his face goes from smirk to confusion to full-on shock in a matter of seconds.

his eyes widen, and he just... stops. his body visibly jerks back like he’s been hit by a truck.

“… what the hell?”

he snaps his head to the side like he’s trying to reset his brain, then dramatically blinks about 50 times.

“you still mad?”

his usual cocky, devil-may-care expression falls into full flustered chaos.

“… no. not anymore. but you just became my new favorite person. you wanna keep doing that, or should we keep fighting?”

he drops the argument completely and starts lowkey following you around for the rest of the day.

mutters to himself like a love-struck fool: “this is it. she’s my queen.”

proceeds to try to make you more mad for the rest of the week just to get another flash. it’s working.

itoshi sae

oh, it’s on now. sae is being sae. classic emotionally distant asshole.

you’ve been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, but he keeps brushing you off.

“stop acting like you’re some kind of unreachable god,” you snap.

“i’m not the problem here, you are,” he counters with that trademark smugness.

and just when you think you’re about to lose your mind, you don’t even flinch, you just flash him.

your shirt lifts slowly, not in a teasing way, just purely to make a point.

his whole world crashes for a split second. sae freezes mid-sentence. he blinks. his eyes widen slightly.

you watch the exact moment his composure starts cracking, the cool facade slipping just enough to reveal–

“did you just–?”

“you still mad?”

his breath catches in his throat, voice suddenly a little hoarse. “… i’m not mad, but i might be a little… distracted now.”

he clears his throat, trying to act like he’s in control, but it’s a losing battle.

“gosh, you’re insufferable,” he mutters, but there’s this shift in his tone, the way his hand instinctively reaches out toward you like he's trying to anchor himself.

you can tell he's so turned on, but he's also mad about it.

he stares at you like you’ve just opened the gates of heaven, and he's not sure if he wants to kiss you or run from you.

you’ve won. and he knows it.

566 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year ago

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more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!

you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k

Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure.

You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips.

“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.”

You step over it and almost slip.

“Careful,” someone says.

You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.”

Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably.

“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you.

“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?”

“Let me help you with this.”

Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock.

“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down.

“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?”

“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.”

You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving.

He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.”

“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack.

“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.”

You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.”

“Oh, sure. Of course.”

“You haven’t heard it yet.”

You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…”

“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.”

You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested.

You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.”

“You want to show them off?” he asks softly.

His voice is velveteen.

“Is that awful?” you ask.

“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.”

“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.”

He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I pay you back?”

You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist.

Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive.

“How would you do that?” you ask.

“Is there anything else you… need help with?”

A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too.

“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.”

He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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sixosix · 2 years ago

Text

(OFFICIALLY) SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET

i. summary in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.

ii. warnings wc 1.5k, profanity, reader will be angry: couple fight scene but not really, alhaitham is kinda dumb here, but he loves you and you love him and that's all that matters, ending is kinda lame... ft. tighnari and cyno

iii. written for my big sibling @earthtooz hope u like this one earf ily

“Hey, Alhaitham?”

He hums noncommittally.

You nestle further in his arm that’s draped lazily over your shoulder, his other hand and his attention occupied by a book. He doesn’t respond again, but he does glance at you for a moment while you shift, adjusting his arm more comfortably.

“Tighnari sent me a letter the other day.”

“Hm.”

“And it was real sweet, you know. He sent over fruits and told me you have your share in my package. He didn’t want to send them to you because he said the fruits would have expired by the time you’d read the letter.” Alhaitham doesn’t deny it. “But I read something extremely strange in the letter that had me dropping the fruits out of pure shock.”

Alhaitham still doesn’t reply. But you know him well enough to know that he’s no longer reading—just keeping appearances.

“Did you read it?”

“...No.”

Obviously. “Ah, well. Let me quote it, as I feel the need to share it with you as well.” You sit up straight and push Alhaitham’s book away from his line of view. “He said, ‘For the insufferable, lovely couple. It’s been a while since you two have visited. How are you and Alhaitham doing? Write back soon.’ And then he taped a flower.”

Alhaitham’s mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You look miffed.”

You scowl. “Alhaitham, of course I’m miffed! Since when were we a lovely couple? And why are you not surprised? Were you the one to prank them?”

“No one’s trying to fool anyone,” he says smoothly, picking up his book once again. As if he just hasn’t caused your crisis. “Tighnari is simply being a good friend and looking for something to nag us about.”

“Alhaitham, since when were we a couple?” you demanded again, shaking his arm. “Did I miss something? Did I wake up one day and forget about being in a relationship with you?”

“Haven’t we always been in one?”

“No, we have not?”

Alhaitham casts you a glance. “You sound unsure.”

“Because you seem so sure of yourself for no reason,” you fume, itching with the urge to hurl the book at his face. “I didn’t even know you were even into me like that!”

“I let you kiss me on the cheek every night before you leave my house. Sometimes, you don’t even leave my house, so we sleep on the same bed.” As if that explains anything. And did he fling out these reasons to Tighnari, too?

“Well, I do it because I’ve been doing it since we were, like, six. And you never told me to stop. Plus, it’s just a cheek kiss—that’s way different from an actual kiss actual couples do,” you say, getting increasingly infuriated with each word that’s coming out your mouth. Why do you have to explain how relationships work to Alhaitham? Surely he’s read a guide about love in the millions of books he’s touched?

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t start kissing me the way couples do, then.”

Oh, this bitch. “So you knew that I liked you?” Your voice wavers, and you feel a little pathetic. “And that’s what prompted you to start spreading lies to everyone? Is this some joke to you?”

Immediately, his expression is swept off of amusement. “Y/N,” he says as you feel your lips tremble. “Y/N, that’s not—”

“Shut up,” you say. “How long has this been going on? Since when have I been outside of the biggest inside joke, huh?”

“It’s not like that. I thought—”

“Oh, you thought, didn’t you? Yet you didn’t think I don’t want my feelings to be played like—like—” You can’t even bring yourself to say this. You know that Alhaitham can be mean when he wants to be, but making a joke out of the feelings you’ve desperately hidden for years?

“I need to leave.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to announce it. Was it because you rarely even leave his place? Each step feels wrong. You don’t want to be mad at Alhaitham to this extent but you’re hurt.

You ignore Alhaitham’s hurried, “Where are you going?” because you don’t have an answer to that. Wherever you go, you always end up in Alhaitham’s arms.

You forcefully push the door open and march off, head spinning, humiliated. You hear Alhaitham’s steps fall into place after yours. It’s pissing you off even more that Alhaitham doesn’t even look the slightest bit frazzled, as if you impulsively sprinting off is just a walk in the block for him.

Then you spot Cyno in the middle of a street. He catches your wrist before you can avoid him.

He blinks, mildly surprised to see it’s just you and not some food stall thief. “Y/N.” Cyno tilts his head slightly to acknowledge the man a few feet away from you. “Alhaitham. Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing!” You don’t question why or how Cyno is here, shoving him aside—which proved to be a little difficult given how he’s pretty strong for such a tiny man.

“You’re crying,” Cyno points out as you try to push him away as if you aren’t aware of how your face feels uncomfortably hot and how tears are sliding off your cheeks.

“It’s a marital dispute,” Alhaitham says, directly behind you.

His voice makes you scowl. So infuriatingly sexy, and you’re mad at it. “We’re not married!”

Cyno nods, serious. “Yes, I only heard about the engagement.” At your stunned silence and Alhaitham’s reluctant stillness, Cyno clears his throat and steps aside. “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t know how relationships work.”

You groan as Cyno walks off, “Great, so even Cyno thinks we’re a couple. Who’s next, Lesser Lord Kusanali?”

Alhaitham looks away. “Well—”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Your wrist seems keen on being dragged around by men today, it seems. Alhaitham firmly tugs at your arm, pulling you close to his chest, his gaze intensely searching yours. But all he would be able to see is your scowl. And all you can see is his handsome face.

“Y/N,” Alhaitham says, your name in his voice a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think you would react that way.”

“What, you think I’d just roll with it?” you spit with dripping bitterness.

“Yes.” You're taken aback as you gaze at him and find his expression to be entirely genuine and open. “We fell into a friendship so easily. I fell in love with you the same way: naturally. I thought…” And then his usually blank face twists into something unpleasant. “Forgive me.”

“Alhaitham, you idiot. You bastard. Do you have any idea how relationships work?”

“No. All I know is how to be with you.” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “But it appears I’m not even doing that right.”

“Fuck you.” You bat his hand away. His face falls. “You don’t get to act all sweet to me like that. I spent years thinking you would never see me that way, and you get to decide one morning that we’re in a relationship, just like that?”

“You’ve liked me for years?” Alhaitham’s eyes are a bit wide, totally missing the point.

“Alhaitham.”

“I ask you out every dinner. And you say yes each time.”

“I didn’t think you meant it like that!”

“I did mean it like that,” Alhaitham says, and again with that ‘so sure of myself’ personality. You hate it. You love it. “And I meant everything I’ve ever said to you like that. I didn’t tell anyone anything; they just assumed on their own, and only then did I realize how it did seem that way. It was my selfishness that didn’t try to deny their assumptions.”

Alhaitham’s usually so difficult to speak to, especially when it comes to expressing his true emotions. You often find yourself filling the silence, and he seems content with it. However, he appears desperate at this moment, as though you’re planning on leaving if he doesn’t give you a reason to stay.

You are too weak. “So you like me.”

“I do.”

“…And you want to… be in a relationship with me.” Alhaitham nods. You're beginning to feel flustered as the realization sets in that the man you've always dreamt of is holding you intimately in the middle of nowhere, and also confessing that he feels the same way. “Ask me out properly, then.”

Alhaitham looks at you incredulously. Did he think it was over?

“Do it, Alhaitham. Woo me. Win me over. Sweep me off my feet.”

“...Y/N,” he hesitates, his face tinted pink, vaguely embarrassed. “Go out with me. In that way.”

It sounds demanding and clumsy, but it’s perfectly Alhaitham, so your heart beats out of your chest and your face splits into a grin all the same.

You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’re going to do it right, you hear me? You won’t just let me do anything. And you will start—officially—tomorrow by telling everyone that we are not engaged nor married.”

Alhaitham dips his head down, your chin trapped by his fingers. “We will be, eventually, though. And I can just start now. Officially.”

Your confusion doesn’t last for even a second when his lips meet yours in a kiss. You’ve been wooed. Won over. Swept off your feet.

earth i hope u know it took me months to find a good plot for your man this was a feat in itself. also i copy pasted your tags love u.

also if u caught the title while it was called swept over your feet shut up…. Please. this didnt have a title originally 🙁

#alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin x reader #alhaitham fic #genshin fic #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #alhaitham x y/n

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giverjoe · 1 year ago

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ROOOOWWWWWWW

REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???

Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.

Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.

I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED

- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷

Freak Like Me - E.M.

thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽

Word count- 1.3K

Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!

-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!

“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.

He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.

You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.

You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.

“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”

You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.

Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.

You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.

He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”

“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.

You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.

tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #southern!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things smut #joseph quinn smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie smut

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amourisms · 1 year ago

Note

souvenir sent me to heaven, if you’re taking requests i’d love to see a part 2 or another wally one shot. you’re amazing! <3

tease.

summary : who knew wally was so sentimental about his souvenirs?

pairing : wally west x fem!reader

warnings : oral ( f rec ), gag used, fingering, dirty talk, wallys a bit nasty in this one, vibrator ( its him ), edging, begging.

wc : 2k

a/n : been meaning to get around to this for a while hope you enjoy ily

read part one here !

this. this was a golden opportunity, and now all you had to do was wait for wally to get back. you were only snooping around his room to find a mission file but what you uncovered was so much better.

it wasn't long before wally came back zipping all around the place, before finally stopping in his bedroom. if he was shocked to see you, he didn't show it. instead he only asked, "what are you doing in my room?" your hands were placed behind your back holding your little discovery and a shit-eating grin was plastered on your face that you couldn't control. "better question is… what was this doing under your pillow?" you asked teasingly, removing your hands behind your back and waving your panties in front of his face. the same panties he stole from you as a souvenir. your relationship with wally stayed unchanged for the most of it, but ever since the kitchen incident you hadn't stopped thinking about it. about him.

it hadn't been long but neither of you hardly said a word to each other since, and you had just assumed he was indifferent to what happened. but this? this truly was something else, and you'd be damned if you weren't going to act all smug about it. "wallace west, the honourable kid flash," you stretched out the word as you stepped closer, "tell me, what do you do with these?"

his lips were pursed together and his eyes flickered around in thought before he answered, "you want the honest answer or some bullshit one?" you didn't even need to open your mouth as a slight tilt of your head and darkened glare said all he need to know. "well if you reaaally want to know," he stepped closer, "its my favourite souvenir. keep it under my pillow for safekeeping and easy access" he says nonchalantly. you try to hide the shock enveloping your features but ultimately he noticed it faster than you did. "you're horrible," you tell him with a reluctant smile on your face. "horrible? i haven't even told you what i do with them yet." he says feigning hurt.

"i rub them all over my cock," he steps closer, "i think about your hands all over me, the way you said my name, how you looked on your knees" he steps closer, "how fucking heavenly you felt." your breath hitches in your throat, and its only then you realised you've been trapped between him and his bed. his hands find a home on your hips, which made you melt enough for your brain to ditch any remaining self control you had left. he embraces your lips messily, like all his self control had been thrown to the wind as well.

before you can wrap your arms around his neck he pushes you back onto the bed with zero warning. before you can get mad at him, wally climbs on top of you and starts kissing on your neck. somehow, he simultaneously manages to remove your clothes as he continues kissing down your body. his fingers hook under the waistband of your shorts, being sure to leave your underwear on. he speaks through the kisses on your stomach, "might need another souvenir." although the idea soaks his precious souvenir even more you lightly smack his arm in rebuttal to his words, "at this rate, i won't have any panties left to wear."

you can feel his smile on your skin as his hands finally move to remove your underwear. he lifts his head up, only just slightly, so you can see his piercing green eyes as he speaks, "i told you i like easy access." once he finally gets the pair off, he holds them up proudly, "such a gorgeous pair, babe, don't you think we should put them to good use?" and with that he wasted no time in stuffing them in your mouth.

before you could protest, he began to lazily drag his tongue over your cunt eliciting a soft whimper from you. it wasn't long before he began focusing on your clit, overwhelming sensations taking over your entire body. when he added a finger into the mix of it all, inserting it in your hole and gradually adding another, your hand couldn't help but grip onto his hair. your body felt out of your control as your thighs clamped around his face. now it was your turn to trap him in, and just as you didn't mind he didn't either. in fact, he wished he could stay between your legs forever.

you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, but wally was keeping you on the edge. you tried telling him you needed to come but it all came out as inaudible mumbles. "whats that?" he asked sarcastically as his fingers remained working you up. you groaned and whimpered in response bucking your hips into his hand as further indication to what you wanted. "just tell me what you want," he tells you with a fake softness, "i can't give it to you until you ask." god, you hated wally west. even if your body showed the opposite.

as his fingers worked relentlessly inside you, it only got you more and more frustrated. he watched you in awe as you whined and wriggled underneath him, trying so badly to chase your high. in a fit of annoyance, you ended up ripping out your makeshift gag yourself and with wally's fingers slowing down in reaction you could swear you'd throw him into a wall. if only his hair wasn't so messy and tousled, and his eyes weren't so cunning, and his lips weren't curved into such a calculating smirk, and his face wasn't covered in your own juices. maybe you actually would've. instead you gave up with a sigh of defeat before softly whispering, "please, 'needa cum so bad."

he takes a second before answering, "i'm not sure you do," his tone is conniving as his fingers fasten. he truly was an evil, scheming son of a bitch. that knot in your stomach you were all too familiar with by now revived and you couldn't stop the sea of words that began flowing out, "please please please", "need you", "'want you to make me come, wally." hearing his name come out of mouth, so breathless and desperate, he finally decided to end your torture (and his considering the way his boxers felt impossibly tight and he was now rutting against the bed).

in a singular fluid motion, he had manoeuvred his arms around your thighs to force them apart against your instincts and began lapping at your juices. your hips grinded against his face while he ate you out like you were his favourite meal. you probably were. as his tongue fucked your needy hole, his nose brushed against your clit and it wasn't long before he was able to take you to the edge again. seeing you in this state, wally made every movement quicker and quicker until you could feel him vibrate. the sensation urged a moan to fall from your tongue and it only made the vibrations stronger. between his nose and his tongue, your clit and your hole, the vibrations, it all became too much. a wave crashed down, filling your entire body with ecstasy and relief. wally let you take a minute to come down as he wiped all your essence off his face with the back of his hand and took his shirt off.

you let yourself drink in his figure whilst he grabbed a condom from his bedside table before taking his pants and boxers off. you'd seen him shirtless during training before, but right now? the way his arms looked as he rolled the condom on himself and his abs contracted with every deep breath made you a lot more lustful than you'd like to admit. before he could try anything you managed to swap spots with him before kissing him again. as he kissed you back, you pushed him backwards onto the bed, so he leaned against the headboard whilst you moved your legs to either side of his. with a hand on his shoulder, you used your other to stroke his dick in slow motions. he bit your lip as his own way of telling you to go faster, but you decided to stop entirely only leaving your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. he pulled away from the kiss only to be met with your alluring smile.

"you're a jerk, you know that?" wally told you as he leaned his head backward and looked at the ceiling accepting his karma. you leaned into his ear, "not as much as you, babe" you whispered before sliding down onto him. the action made his head snap back and his hands grab onto your hips almost immediately. you had a hand flat on his chest and another on his abs as you slowly rocked back and forth to get better adjusted to his size. you thought he stretched you out last time? this position made you feel him deeper than you thought possible.

his grip on your skin got tighter as he began to gently rock your body faster until you decided to outdo his pace on your own. your nails began to dig into his chest. you could've drawn blood but wally couldn't have cared less. in truth, it probably made him even harder and if you weren't so blissed out you most likely would've felt it.

your body moved with unwavering passion, as wally moved a hand to the side of your slack jaw. he placed his thumb in your mouth and you were quick to suck on it with a flurry of muffled whimpers rising from your throat. the entire scene was pure euphoria to wally. your brows furrowed, lips wrapped around his fingers, nails digging into his skin and your body working so desperately to chase your own high. euphoria.

wally removed his finger from between the warmth of your lips and moved that same thumb down to your clit as he kissed you. the synchronicity of his actions made your head drown in pleasure, making you moan into the kiss. "shit, you're gripping me like a vice," he told you breathlessly between kisses, "look so good fucking yourself dumb on my cock." you would've spat a remark back at him, but he was right and there wasn't a thought in your head except for him.

wally let out a guttural groan when you pulsed around him and once again his hands were on your waist as he planted his feet on the bed. he started meeting your movements with hard and fast thrusts. every movement he made had you teetering over the edge, but when your face nestled into the crook of his neck and he whispered in your ear was all the push you needed to send you over the edge. "that's my girl," he spoke in drawn out words as he noted to memorise every movement you made. he watched the rise and fall of your chest and how the hands on his chest had softened as a wave of pure pleasure washed over your body. most importantly, he took note of the way you clenched around him making his movements falter.

it wasn't long before his orgasm followed suit and you could feel him twitch inside you. a groan escaped from his lips as he bought his forehead to rest against yours. the both of you were now a sweaty, exhausted mess and the aroma of sex became noticeable as he helped you up off of him. wally took a minute as he laid beside you before sliding the condom off him and placing it into a bin whilst slipping into his boxers. you noticed he went to collect your clothes and before he could hand them to you, you rolled your eyes, "don't tell me you're taking another souvenir."

"thanks for the reminder" he answered with a growing smirk plastered on his face.

#wally west x reader #wally west x you #the flash #wally west #kid flash #smut #wally west smut #dc comics #dc smut #wally west fanfic #wally west fic #flash family #dc #the flash x reader #the flash smut

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honeyhaeya · 5 months ago

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hiii, I love your works so much and I couldn't help but to read them over and over! so may I please req actor reader x actor jeonghan but if you don't want to do it it's fine it's up to you but if you're going to do it I'm going to thank you very much!, ily🤍

Second Lead, First Choice

Yoon Jeonghan x F!Reader

Genre: smut, actor x actor, second lead x male lead, rivals to lovers(?), fake friends, unrequited love, jealousy, angst, dark romance, modern au, slowburn, toxic relationships, obsession, manipulation, betrayal, power imbalance, nsfw (18+), forbidden romance, possessive behavior, softdom!jeonghan, sub!reader, fluff (?), revenge, and emotional turmoil. (minors are NOT welcome. stay out.) warnings: explicit smut (18+), obsessive behavior, manipulation, mild dub-con, filming without consent (non-public), unhealthy relationships, slowburn tension, power dynamics, jealousy, angst-heavy themes, dark plot twists, possessive behavior, and mentions of betrayal. smut warnings: explicit sexual content, public/semi-public sex, fingering, vaginal penetration, oral fixation (kissing, biting), dom/sub dynamics (soft dom jeonghan, sub reader), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight breeding kink implications (mentions of cumming inside), slight cockwarming, mild praise kink ("good girl"), use of dirty talk, mentions of squirting and unproctected sex (wrap that boner !!) preview: You never expected to find yourself locking horns with Yoon Jeonghan, the nation’s beloved leading man. Being cast as the second lead was bad enough, but sharing the screen—and off-camera moments—with him tests every ounce of your patience. Jeonghan is intoxicating, infuriating, and far too good at blurring the lines between acting and reality. His touch lingers longer than it should, his whispers send shivers down your spine, and his smirk hides secrets you’re desperate to uncover. But behind the glamour lies a dark game of power, manipulation, and obsession that threatens to unravel everything you’ve worked for. It was never just about the spotlight—or even revenge. Now, every glance, every word, and every forbidden kiss carries consequences neither of you are ready to face. wc: 7773 a/n: im sorry it took me months to finish ! i hope i make it up to you by this, and please do enjoy. (i write too many stuffs before getting to the real stuffs. sorry not sorry lmao) THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING !

"CUT!" the director's voice boomed across the set, signaling the end of the take. Jeonghan pulled back from the female lead, Hye-soo, his face carefully neutral despite the exhaustion tugging at his features. He tried not to grimace as he stepped away, running a hand through his styled hair. The bright lights, the endless retakes, and the physical closeness—it was all too much for him today.

On the sidelines, you sat perched on a folding chair, clapping your hands softly in a show of support. "Good work!" you called out cheerfully, your voice cutting through the hum of the bustling set. You'd wrapped your own scene hours ago, but instead of heading home to rest, you stayed to watch him.

Jeonghan noticed you immediately. It didn't matter that there were dozens of people milling about—his gaze found yours like a magnet. And for the first time all day, he felt a flicker of relief. If only you were the female lead. If only it were you standing in front of the camera with him, sharing the screen and the story. The thought had crossed his mind far too often, lingering in ways he wasn't sure he could hide anymore.

He walked toward you, his usual easygoing smile faltering at the edges. It was subtle, but you caught it. Even through his perfectly sculpted persona, you could tell he wasn't feeling his best.

"You did well," you said when he reached you, your voice softer now. Your hand lightly brushed against his as you stood, the gesture so casual and natural that no one else might have noticed. But he did.

Jeonghan looked at you, his heart thudding a little harder at the warmth in your expression. You were smiling sweeter than usual—just a tiny shift, but enough to send his thoughts spinning. He knew that look, the way your eyes sparkled when you wanted something.

Without saying a word, he took your hand, holding it for just a second longer than necessary before his lips curved into a faint smirk. "You're too nice to me," he teased lightly, though his voice was quieter than usual.

"You deserve it," you replied simply, squeezing his hand.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, leaning just enough so that your faces were closer. His voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial. "You're the main character of my life," he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

The confession hung in the air, delicate and fragile, but he didn't give you the chance to respond. Instead, he gently tugged you by the wrist, leading you toward a nearby hallway where the noise of the set faded into the background.

He pushed open the door to an empty dressing room and pulled you inside, your lips quirked into a small grin as you cast a glance over your shoulder. There, just outside the hallway, you caught sight of Hye-soo, her expression a mixture of irritation and disbelief as she watched Jeonghan whisk you away, before he shut the door softly behind you.

The satisfaction was instant, your grin widening as you turned your attention back to Jeonghan. His eyes searched yours, an unspoken question lingering in their depths.

"Someone's jealous," you whispered, a playful lilt in your tone.

"Let her be," Jeonghan replied, his gaze dropping briefly to where your hand still rested against his arm. "I only care about you."

Jeonghan caught your lips into a deep, deep kiss. His hands finding your waist, kissing you hungrily like he's never before. You gladly let him, kissing back with precision, catching up with his desperate kisses.

Four months ago, the welcoming party was an elaborate spectacle where actors who are casted and crews, glittering lights and clinking glasses, an unspoken contest of charisma and charm playing out in every corner of the opulent ballroom. Jeonghan stood near the director, his expression schooled into polite interest as Hye-soo's melodic laughter rang out beside him. She had been holding court all evening, effortlessly drawing attention to herself, her hand resting possessively on Jeonghan's arm like it was her rightful place.

But Jeonghan barely noticed her.

From the moment you stepped into the room, late enough to make an entrance but not so late as to be rude, his attention was a prisoner to your presence. You hadn't done anything dramatic—there was no sweeping motion or grand gesture. It was simply the way you carried yourself. The flow of your dress, the way it seemed to move with you like an extension of your being. The quiet confidence in your steps, your head held high but your smile understated, as if you knew you didn't need to demand attention; it came to you on its own.

It wasn't just beauty—though you had that in spades. It was something deeper, more magnetic. A natural ease, the kind of charisma that didn't shout for recognition but instead whispered for it, softly and irresistibly.

Jeonghan felt it before he could stop himself—the tightening of his chest, the way his eyes betrayed him by seeking you out even as Hye-soo leaned closer, brushing her arm against his as she spoke. He forced a polite laugh, nodding at whatever she was saying, but his focus was across the room.

And you, as if sensing his gaze, looked up.

Your eyes met his, and for a brief moment, the noise of the ballroom faded into nothingness. You didn't smile right away; you just held his gaze, the faintest quirk of your lips following as though you knew exactly what you were doing to him. It was infuriating, how effortlessly you dismantled his composure with nothing but a look.

Hye-soo's hand on his arm tightened, her laugh becoming just a touch louder as if trying to pull him back. But Jeonghan's thoughts were already elsewhere, his mind circling a question that had been nagging him since the cast list was announced.

Why were you the second lead?

You had everything—beauty that could silence a room, talent that elevated every scene you touched, and a presence so commanding it didn't just complement a story; it shaped it. He'd even asked the director about it once, in a moment of unguarded curiosity.

"She's too perfect," the director had said, a bemused smile on his face. "We needed someone who could challenge stereotypes. Beauty isn't everything, and we're trying to show that. It's about balance, Jeonghan. She's our second lead because she'll redefine what it means to be one."

At the time, Jeonghan had accepted the explanation. It even made sense—logically. But now, watching you glide through the room like you owned it, he couldn't shake the thought that the story needed you at its heart.

As the evening wore on, his fascination deepened. He wasn't the only one who noticed you, of course. By the time he'd taken a sip of his champagne, you were already surrounded. First, a well-known photographer approached, gesturing animatedly as you listened with that soft, knowing smile of yours. Then a manager from a major modeling agency joined the conversation, their posture deferential despite their stature in the industry.

You handled it all with ease, laughing lightly here, tilting your head thoughtfully there, your charisma weaving a web that no one seemed able to resist. Jeonghan felt something strange stir within him—a mixture of pride, admiration, and something heavier, something unfamiliar.

"You should go talk to her," the director said suddenly, his voice breaking through Jeonghan's thoughts.

Jeonghan blinked, glancing at the older man. "What?"

"You've been staring all night," the director said with a chuckle, clapping him on the shoulder. "Might as well make an introduction."

Before Jeonghan could protest, the director was already leading him across the room. Hye-soo followed, her expression tight as she trailed behind, her earlier ease replaced with something sharper.

When they reached you, the director spoke your name warmly, introducing Jeonghan with a familiarity that suggested he'd been waiting for this moment. You turned to face Jeonghan fully, and for the second time that night, his world narrowed to just you.

"It's nice to finally meet you," you said, your voice smooth and melodic, the kind that lingered in the air even after the words had faded.

Jeonghan opened his mouth to respond, but for a brief, embarrassing moment, nothing came out. You smiled at that, a real smile this time, not the polite ones you'd been giving all evening. It was a little crooked, a little playful, and it hit him harder than he wanted to admit.

"Likewise," he managed, his voice quieter than intended.

Hye-soo stepped forward then, her smile a touch too bright, her hand reaching out to touch your arm as she offered some polite compliment. You accepted it graciously, your demeanor unchanging, but Jeonghan saw the way your eyes flickered—sharp, assessing, taking in every detail of her performance.

He didn't know what passed between you in that silent exchange, but when your gaze shifted back to him, something about your expression had changed. It was softer, more amused, like you'd already decided he wasn't worth sharing.

And for the first time that night, Jeonghan smiled—a real one, small and almost shy, but real. Because for reasons he couldn't yet explain, he wanted nothing more than to be worthy of the attention you'd just given him.

The door to the dressing room clicked shut behind you, the muffled chaos of the set fading into a distant hum. Jeonghan's gaze was dark and focused, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something more raw, more consuming. You barely had time to catch your breath before his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips claimed yours with a fervor that sent your head spinning.

It was a whirlwind—a blur of heat and longing. His fingers slid under the fabric of your top, skimming the bare skin beneath, his touch both electrifying and soothing. You gasped against his lips, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, anchoring yourself to him as your knees threatened to give out. Jeonghan was gorgeous, unbearably so, and in moments like these, he felt almost unreal.

Your heart pounded wildly, each beat echoing in your ears. It was impossible to reconcile this moment with the doubts you'd carried when you first met him. Back then, you thought he'd barely notice you, that someone like Jeonghan—dazzling, untouchable—would never look at you twice. Yet here you were, his hands roaming your body like he couldn't get enough, his lips moving against yours like you were the air he needed to breathe.

You broke away for a moment, your chest heaving as you tried to steady yourself. But Jeonghan didn't let you get far. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you back as his lips hovered over yours, the soft warmth of his breath brushing against your skin.

"I can't let her lips stay on mine too long," he murmured, his voice low and rough, a stark contrast to the teasing words. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned in closer, his lips grazing yours lightly before retreating just enough to make you ache for more.

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your fingers threading through his hair as you tilted his face toward yours. "I'll wash them off for you, my love," you whispered, your voice thick with both playfulness and desire. The words barely had time to settle between you before you captured his lips again, pulling him into a kiss that was deeper, hungrier, more desperate than before.

Your tongues tangled in a rhythm that felt instinctual, a dance of passion and unspoken words. His hands roamed freely, tracing the curve of your spine, brushing against the sensitive skin of your waist, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You shivered under his touch, your body pressing closer to his as if proximity alone could satisfy the yearning that consumed you.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Jeonghan whispered against your lips, his voice trembling just enough to reveal the depth of his emotions. His hands found your hips, gripping them firmly as his forehead pressed against yours. "You drive me insane."

A blush crept up your neck, heat pooling in your chest as you tried to catch your breath. "I could say the same about you," you replied, your voice breathless but steady, your eyes searching his. "You're impossible."

He smirked, that familiar glint of mischief returning to his gaze. "Impossible, huh?" His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, his hands slipping to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. "You're the one who walked into my life and flipped everything upside down."

You wanted to respond, to tease him back, but the intensity in his eyes silenced you. It was a look that made your chest tighten, a look that spoke of feelings too complex to put into words. So instead, you kissed him again, pouring everything you couldn't say into the way your lips moved against his, the way your hands clung to him like he was your lifeline.

Minutes passed, maybe hours—it was impossible to tell. All you knew was the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, the way his presence consumed every inch of your awareness. For a fleeting moment, nothing else mattered. Not the set outside, not the chaos of your lives, not even the knowledge that this would complicate everything.

In this room, in his arms, it was just the two of you. And that was enough.

The two of you stepped out of the dressing room, the air between you still charged with the remnants of your stolen moment. Jeonghan's hair was slightly tousled, his lips swollen and redder than usual, while your soft pink lipstick was now smudged, leaving just enough evidence for the curious stares around the set. The whispers were immediate.

It didn't take long for someone to notice, and of course, it had to be Hye-soo. Her eyes darted between you and Jeonghan, narrowing with an intensity that made her look like she was plotting to leap and attack you. She clenched her jaw, her entire body radiating frustration. You, however, were perfectly unbothered.

Pausing mid-step, you turned to Jeonghan and tugged him gently by the arm, making him face you. With the utmost care (and an intentional touch of theatrics), you reached up to fix his disheveled hair.

"You're such a mess," you said playfully, brushing his bangs into place.

Jeonghan smirked, leaning down to your level as if he couldn't resist getting closer. "And whose fault is that?" he teased, swiping his thumb over your lips to clean up the smudged lipstick. The gesture was tender, but there was a flicker of something mischievous in his eyes as he added, "If you're trying to make a statement, you're doing a phenomenal job."

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of Hye-soo, who looked seconds away from exploading. "Putting on a show?" Jeonghan whispered, his hands finding your waist like it was second nature.

"Maybe," you replied with a sly smile, purposefully glancing in Hye-soo's direction. The minute your gaze met hers, her expression darkened, and she stormed out of the studio with a huff loud enough to make the crew turn and stare.

Jeonghan chuckled lowly, watching her retreat. "You're dangerous, you know that?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, turning back to him with a lighthearted grin. "Honestly? This isn't even about her anymore. It's about us." You punctuated your words with a quick kiss to his cheek, then pulled away before he could pull you back in.

Just as Jeonghan opened his mouth to respond, the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the air. The two of you turned, and there stood the director, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowing in disapproval.

"Woah," Jeonghan said, feigning surprise as he chuckled nervously. "How long have you been standing there, sir?"

"Long enough," the director replied, visibly irritated. "You two shouldn't be doing this in the middle of the studio. Get a room, will you?"

You suppressed a laugh, but Jeonghan, ever the troublemaker, grinned and replied, "We already did."

Your elbow jabbed him sharply in the stomach before he could elaborate further. "Ow!" he yelped, doubling over slightly, though he was still smirking.

The director pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly like a parent scolding unruly children. "Do you two have any idea how much trouble this could cause for the production? I can already see the headlines: 'Male lead Yoon Jeonghan and second lead Y/N caught in scandalous affair!'" His tone was exasperated, though slightly melodramatic.

That was the final straw—you burst out laughing, the sound bright and carefree, echoing through the studio. Jeonghan froze, his gaze softening as he watched you. His irritation melted away entirely, replaced by a warmth that made him forget anyone else existed.

Your laughter was infectious, and even the director blinked, momentarily disarmed. The entire crew, who had paused to watch the scene unfold, also seemed captivated. It wasn't just Jeonghan who adored you—you had the entire set under your spell.

Jeonghan caught the lingering stares from some of the staff and cast members, their admiration for you clear as day. His expression darkened almost comically, his gaze sweeping the room as if to warn everyone, Back off—she's mine.

Finally regaining his composure, the director shook his head. "You're impossible," he muttered. "If this blows up, I'm blaming you two."

Smiling sweetly, you clasped your hands together like a picture of innocence. "We'll make sure that never happens, our best director-nim," you said, your voice as soothing as a lullaby. Somehow, even the director, who moments ago had been fuming, softened under your charm.

Jeonghan leaned in, muttering under his breath just loud enough for you to hear, "You could get away with murder if you wanted to."

You bit back a grin, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "Only if you're my partner in crime."

The air outside the studio felt heavy, the crisp breeze doing little to soothe your frayed nerves. You excused yourself from Jeonghan and the director, feigning the need for a breath of fresh air when, in truth, you were looking for her—Hye-soo. She'd been haunting your thoughts ever since the shoot began, her presence always a bitter reminder of the tangled history you shared. You weren't sure what you expected from this conversation, but you had to try. You always had to try.

You found her near the corner of the lot, scrolling on her phone with an air of detachment. Her perfectly styled hair caught the golden light, making her look like the picture-perfect heroine she was cast to be. The sight of her still brought a pang of nostalgia, even after everything. For a moment, you hesitated. Was this worth it? Would she even listen?

"Hye-soo," you called out, your voice steady but soft.

She turned, her expression cool and guarded the moment she saw you. "What do you want?" she asked, her tone sharp enough to cut.

"I just want to talk," you replied, taking a cautious step forward. "Can we please—can we try to fix this? Whatever happened between us, I—"

"Fix this?" she scoffed, lowering her phone to give you her full attention. Her eyes blazed with an anger you hadn't expected. "You think you can fix this? After everything?"

"I've been trying to," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I've tried to reach out to you, to explain—"

"To explain what? That you're not guilty of anything? That you didn't go behind my back and let people pit us against each other?" She laughed bitterly. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't something you can just apologize for."

Your chest tightened, the weight of her words settling like a stone. "I never wanted any of that. I hated the comparisons, the rumors—it wasn't my fault. You were my best friend, Hye-soo. I didn't ask for any of this."

"And yet, here you are," she snapped, crossing her arms. "The second lead, with Jeonghan wrapped around your finger. Isn't that enough for you?"

Her words stung, but you held your ground. "This isn't about him. It's about us—about how we used to be. Don't you miss that?"

Hye-soo's expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of something soft and familiar crossing her face before it hardened again. "If you want to make it up to me," she said coldly, "then break up with him."

Her demand hit you like a slap. You stared at her, stunned, your heart racing as your blood began to boil. "That's not fair, and you know it," you said, your voice low and trembling with emotion.

"Fair?" she echoed, taking a step closer. "Nothing about this has ever been fair. You were handed everything—"

"I earned it!" you shot back, cutting her off. "You think my life has been easy? That I didn't work for every single thing I have? You know that's not true."

She glared at you, her jaw tightening before she turned on her heel and walked away without another word. You stood there, your chest heaving, your emotions swirling in a chaotic storm.

The memory of her retreating figure lingered as you stared into the distance, your hands balled into fists at your sides. The bitterness between you two hadn't always existed. Once upon a time, Hye-soo was your everything.

The flashback crept in like an unwelcome guest, bringing with it the bittersweet memory of your early days in the industry.

Back then, Hye-soo had been your anchor, your partner-in-crime. You two had been inseparable, bonded over sneaking snacks during strict diets and whispering secrets late into the night. She was the person you looked up to, admired, maybe even loved in a way that you didn't fully understand at the time.

She had always been magnetic—bright, charming, and full of life. It was impossible not to be drawn to her. And for a while, things had been perfect. Until the comparisons started.

It wasn't your fault. At least, that's what you told yourself. You couldn't control how the managers and producers favored you, how they praised your acting skills and visuals. But the more they built you up, the more they tore her down.

At first, Hye-soo acted like it didn't bother her. She'd laugh it off, telling you it was fine, that she didn't care. But you knew her too well. You saw the cracks in her facade, the way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes anymore.

You tried to confront her, to assure her that you didn't want the comparisons either, but the rumors had already started. Whispers about you sleeping with managers and producers to secure your roles spread like wildfire. It was cruel, baseless, and you hated every second of it. But the damage was done.

Hye-soo began pulling away, her warmth replaced by icy indifference. And then, when this project came along, you both fought for the spot. You knew she wanted the role for Jeonghan's sake—her feelings for him were no secret. But no amount of her family's wealth or influence could erase the connection you and Jeonghan had. Even as the second lead, you'd won a part of him that she never could.

The sound of footsteps snapped you back to the present. Turning, you saw Jeonghan approaching, his expression unreadable. He must have seen Hye-soo leaving—or rather, storming away.

He stopped in front of you, his gaze searching your face for answers. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, though the tightness in your chest said otherwise. "She doesn't want to talk."

Jeonghan's jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't press. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm in silent comfort.

"I told you this would happen," you admitted quietly, your voice trembling. "That being with me would make everything worse."

Jeonghan shook his head, his gaze softening. "It's not your fault. None of this is."

For a moment, the weight of everything—the past, the present, the impossible tangle of emotions—felt a little lighter. With Jeonghan by your side, you felt a flicker of hope.

"She said I should break up with you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"And?" Jeonghan asked, his lips curving into a faint smile.

You looked at him, your heart aching with the intensity of how much you loved him. "That's not an option."

Jeonghan's smile deepened, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made the air around you feel a little less suffocating. He took a small step closer, his presence grounding you in a way you couldn't fully explain. "Good. Because she's not the one you need to be worrying about right now."

You let out a shaky breath, glancing down at the ground for a moment, trying to gather yourself. It was hard to look at Jeonghan without feeling both a sense of relief and a twinge of guilt. Hye-soo's words kept echoing in your mind—If you want to make it up to me, break up with him—but you had already made your choice.

Looking back up at him, you smiled faintly. "I don't know what I expected, honestly. She's changed. We've changed. I never thought it would come to this."

Jeonghan's fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch so gentle that it almost felt like a promise. "Sometimes people change, but that doesn't mean you have to. You're not the person she's trying to make you out to be. Don't let her take away your peace."

His words were like a balm for the wound Hye-soo had left. You swallowed, feeling the weight on your chest slowly lift. Jeonghan was right—this wasn't your fault. But the pain of losing Hye-soo, of watching the bond you once shared with her unravel, still cut deeply.

"It's just... hard, you know? I never wanted to lose her." You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't think I can keep pretending that everything's okay when it's not."

Jeonghan's eyes softened even further, and he placed both hands on your shoulders, steadying you. "You don't have to pretend with me. And you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You've got me, always."

For a moment, there was silence between you two. The weight of the past few months—the rumors, the lies, the rivalry, the betrayal—hung thick in the air, but Jeonghan's presence made it feel bearable. He wasn't just standing by you; he was anchoring you, in a way only he could.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly, his gaze not leaving yours. "The rumors, the truth... whatever you need to say, I'm here."

You swallowed again; your throat tight with the emotions you'd kept hidden for so long. "I don't want to drag you into it... but it feels like everything I've worked for has been overshadowed by rumors that I can't control. I've done everything by the book, Jeonghan. I've worked so hard to get here, and now it feels like everyone's just waiting for me to fall."

Jeonghan shook his head, his hands gently cupping your face as he forced you to meet his gaze. "Listen to me. I know who you are. I know what you've been through. And I know how much you've sacrificed to get to this point. Don't let anyone's words—especially hers—make you doubt that. You're not alone in this. I'm not going anywhere."

Tears welled in your eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let them fall. You didn't care. Not anymore. Not when Jeonghan was holding you like this, as if you mattered more than anything else in the world.

"I just... I feel like everything's falling apart," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Hye-soo, the rumors, even my own family. I don't know who to trust anymore."

Jeonghan's thumb gently wiped away a tear, his expression soft but unwavering. "You trust me. And I trust you."

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as the weight of everything seemed to melt away, if only for a moment. His words were like a quiet promise, a reassurance that despite all the chaos around you, there was one thing you could count on—him.

You finally opened your eyes again, meeting his gaze with renewed resolve. "I'm sorry, Jeonghan. For everything."

He smiled, the corners of his lips curving up in that familiar, reassuring way. "There's nothing to apologize for. We're in this together. You don't have to face it alone."

For a long moment, you simply stood there, enveloped in his warmth, the world outside fading away. Hye-soo, the rumors, the industry—they all seemed distant now. Because right here, in this moment, you had Jeonghan. And that was all that mattered.

A few days later, you found yourself once again in the studio, the weight of the past still lingering, but a quiet sense of peace settling within you. Jeonghan had been right there by your side every step of the way, offering unwavering support when things felt impossible.

The shoot was going smoother now, though the tension with Hye-soo was still palpable. She avoided you at every turn, and the coldness between you two lingered in the air like an unspoken challenge. But you no longer cared.

As you prepared for the next scene, Jeonghan leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. "You're amazing, you know that?"

You turned to face him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "You really think so?"

"I know so," he said softly, his fingers brushing against your hand. "Don't ever forget that."

The connection between you two was undeniable. And in that moment, as you shared a quiet, knowing smile, you realized that everything else could fall away—but this, this bond, was something that would never break.

The sound of bustling voices fades as you and Jeonghan slip away from the chaos of the shoot, finding yourselves in a secluded, dimly lit lounge area. The atmosphere is heavy with the weight of unsaid words, the quiet hum of the room pressing down on you both. You're sitting close on the couch, but the space between you seems like miles. The room smells faintly of leather and wood, the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air from where Jeonghan leans in a little too close.

You both start talking about the shoot, trying to keep things light, but the tension is palpable. It's as if every word you speak makes the air thicker, more suffocating. You catch him glancing at your lips a few too many times, but each time you meet his gaze, you notice how his eyes darken, his pupils dilating just a little. The subtle but undeniable spark between you two has always been there. Today, it's dangerously close to setting everything on fire.

You reach for your glass of water, your hand brushing against his as you both move at the same time. It's subtle. An innocent touch. But the moment your skin makes contact with his, everything changes.

His fingers freeze for a split second, the warmth from his hand making your skin burn. You pull away instinctively, but the damage has already been done. The soft touch, the heat from his hand, lingers on your skin like an invisible brand. You swear you can still feel it even though the touch is long gone. Your heart skips a beat, your breath catching slightly in your throat as you glance up to meet his gaze.

His hand is still hovering near where you touched. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, as if trying to regain control of the situation. His lips part slightly as if he's about to say something, but no words come out. Instead, there's just a sharp, silent acknowledgment in his eyes.

The tension between you two is unbearable now.

Jeonghan shifts slightly in his seat, and his gaze flicks down to your lips for a fraction of a second. It's as if he can't help it. He swallows hard, his jaw tightening. It's clear he's fighting something—fighting the urge to pull you in, to kiss you, to close the space between you that feels too far apart.

You don't move, frozen in the moment, feeling your body heat up in ways you hadn't expected. His breath hitches as he leans just a little closer, his body language unmistakable. You can't ignore it any longer. The undeniable pull between you two has taken on a life of its own, and you're both powerless to resist it.

"Jeonghan..." You whisper his name like it's a question, but it comes out more like an invitation.

His breath catches again, his lips barely an inch from your ear. You feel the heat of his body close to yours, the warmth radiating off him, as he leans in even further, his breath hot against your skin. His lips graze the shell of your ear as he whispers softly, "Do you feel it too?" His voice is low, barely a whisper, but it sends a thrill through you.

You don't answer him with words. Instead, you let your body answer for you, shifting slightly toward him, tilting your head back just enough to give him the opening he's been waiting for.

Jeonghan's lips brush against your neck, soft at first, but with a slow, deliberate pressure that sends shivers down your spine. He's testing the waters, sensing the way your body reacts to his touch, and it's driving you crazy.

He grabs the glass of water you were holding, placing it back on the table without pulling away from you or your body.

His hand moves from the edge of the couch where it had been resting, coming to rest on your thigh. He doesn't move it at first, just leaves it there, the pressure of his hand causing your skin to burn beneath the fabric. It's a gentle touch, but you feel it deep in your core, your body reacting almost involuntarily.

You shift slightly, your breath quickening as you feel him slowly inch his hand further up your thigh, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin there. Every small movement from him feels like an invitation, and you can't resist anymore. You lean forward just slightly, your lips finding his in a kiss that's soft at first but quickly grows deeper, more desperate.

His hand slides from your thigh to your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you harder. You can taste the urgency on his lips, the need that's been building for far too long now.

His other hand moves to the back of your neck, threading through your hair and gently pulling your head back, exposing your throat to him. His lips follow, trailing soft kisses down your neck, before they return to your lips in another searing kiss.

You can feel his heart beating against your chest, and you can't help but want more, the desire building between you two like a slow burn that's finally breaking through.

Jeonghan's lips pull away from yours for a brief moment, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. It's a question, but his eyes already tell you he's certain of the answer. He doesn't need to hear the words; he can see it in your eyes, the way you're looking at him, the way you're holding him closer.

You nod, your fingers gripping his shirt as you pull him back toward you. Your lips meet again, this time more fiercely, more urgently. You're both hungry for each other, the restraint that had held you back now gone.

Jeonghan's hands are everywhere—on your back, your hips, your legs. His touch is both gentle and possessive, as if he wants to savor every inch of you but also claim you as his own. You can't help but respond to his every move, every touch, your body betraying you as you lean into him, giving him more of yourself.

His lips find their way back to your neck, trailing kisses along your jaw and down to your collarbone. The way his lips feel against your skin, the pressure of his touch, sends waves of pleasure through you. His hand moves lower, resting on your waist before slipping under your shirt, his fingers brushing against your bare skin.

You gasp as his hand moves higher up to the inner of your thighs, and you spread your legs open, his touch insistent but slow, savoring every moment. His lips return to yours, and the kiss deepens, filled with the hunger and need that you've both been holding back for far too long.

He moves your skirt up, now feeling the wetness of your underwear. You muffled in between kisses, with Jeonghan swallowing your every moans. He pulled the fabric off your legs and buried his fingers deep into your cunt, his thumb running circles on your clit.

You shivered under his touch, his fingers working to stretch your already soaked cunt. He fucked your pussy with his fingers well that you were squirming under his touch, sounds escaping from your lips louder.

Jeonghan had to shut you up with him kissing your lips. Once you reached your high, cumming all over his fingers, he unbuttons his pants down and you can see the tip of his cock glimmering with precum. "I'm going to put it in, stay quiet this time."

You swallowed hard before nodding. He placed his cock on your clit, giving it a few rubbing before slowly inserting it fully in your cunt. "F- fuck..." He grunted, his head spinning because the way he slid in you almost too easily was too hard to miss. You covered your mouth, not risking being caught by someone again like the last time.

"J- Just put it in," you muffled out, but Jeonghan didn't listen.

"Can't have you begging me to stop later," he whispered, his fingers stretching you out, making it impossible to hold out your moans. Jeonghan just had to kiss your sounds—as much as he wants to hear you make those sounds of pleasure, he just can't. Well, not at a public space like this. It's possible that someone will eventually step in.

As he pulled his fingers out, he pulls his pants down just enough for his cock to be freed. It was long, and hard as ever. Jeonghan places the tip of his cock on your clit, rubbing it in your pussy before entering you fully.

You moaned, with Jeonghan trying to quiet you down. "Shhh... Damn it."

"I- W- wait," you muffled, your cunt twitching on his cock. "I can't." Jeonghan replied, moving his hips in slow thrusts. "Your walls are swallowing me whole. You're awesome."

His hips moved a little faster this time. You were breathless. Jeonghan has you pinned down on the couch, fucking you now roughly while you hold back the sounds from coming out of your mouth.

The sound of skin slapping, your pussy squirming and squelching when you meet his hard thrusts, and muffled moans filling the room. When your walls started to tighten around his dick, that's when he lets out grunts.

Jeonghan thrusted in your cunt, burying himself inside you like never before. He was fighting hard to meet his highs, and yours too.

You cum all over his dick before him, but that wasn't enough for him to pull away. He ran circles on your clit, his tongue all over your neck as he finally reaches his own high.

Cumming, he lifted your shirt as he took his hot load on your stomach. Your cunt glistened with your own fluids.

"You're amazing," Jeonghan says as he looked at the quivering mess underneath him. Your hair disheveled, cheeks all red looking so pretty like that.

You pushed him before straddling on his lap. "Let me take care of you," you muttered, kissing him immediately right afterwards, leaving him no room to respond.

Him already hard cock springs up again and leaks with precum as you fucked him with your soft thighs. His cock twitching as you rocked your hips back in forth. Rubbing yourself on his cock, hips shaking as you overstimulate yourself above him.

And that's when you finally entered him. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Jeonghan looked at you with awe.

He lifted your shirt, unclipped your bra as he finds your nipples, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin there, making you let out a moan. He didn't stop you this time. Who cares if you get caught.

You finally bounced on him, making Jeonghan pant breathlessly. His eyes focused on the way your tits were bouncing before him so sinfully—he loved how you took control over him. Especially when he knew you wouldn't do something like this in a public space.

Jeonghan kissed your lips as you grind yourself further into his cock, reaching the depths of heaven. Jeonghan held your hips in place before cumming inside you, the mix of your cum and his blending perfectly as it coated your walls.

Your head fell down on Jeonghan's shoulder. Catching your breath as he clips your bra back, cleaning your messy body. His fingers moving to the soft of your hair as if to soothe you off.

"You did well," he whispered, planting a kiss on your cheek. He didn't let you pull away from his cock just yet. He wanted to feel your warmth covering his cock. Just by the feeling of your gummy, hot pussy made him hard again, and your tried to squirm away, but Jeonghan didn't let you.

He rocked your hips slowly as he grunted with lust. Moaning as he felt you pussy twitching. "J- Jeonghan... Wait..." You called out, finding his shoulder to bite into his shoulder as he moves you a little faster now.

"Last... one..." He muttered; his breathing heavy as he slides in your cunt a little rougher.

With a few more pounds and squirms, he finally cums in you again, with you passing out on his arms right after you squirted three times on his cock.

The room was heavy with the aftermath of passion, the air thick with warmth and the lingering scent of Jeonghan's cologne mixed with your own. Your body was draped against him, utterly spent, your breathing shallow as you rested in his arms. His hands traced lazy patterns along your bare back, his touch possessive, yet oddly tender. You felt the faint thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.

Jeonghan, finally contended, ran his fingers through your hair, lulling you deeper to sleep as he uses your pussy to warm his cock.

You barely registered his quiet chuckle, the sound sending a faint shiver down your spine. Your mind was hazy, the weight of exhaustion pulling you under. You were vaguely aware of his body still connected to yours, his warmth anchoring you as your consciousness started to slip away.

"Good girl," he whispered, his voice low and laced with something darker, something triumphant. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear as he studied you with an intensity that made your skin prickle, even in your half-dazed state.

You stirred faintly, murmuring something incoherent, but Jeonghan only smiled. "Shh," he cooed softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You've worked so hard, my love. Rest now."

And you did, succumbing to the pull of sleep, blissfully unaware of the way his gaze shifted, how his expression turned from soft affection to something far more sinister.

The soft click of a door opening pulled Jeonghan's attention, though he didn't move. He didn't need to. He knew exactly who it was.

"Good job, Hyesoo," he called out casually, his voice smooth and unbothered. His fingers skimmed along your bare skin one last time before resting on your hip, his touch possessive as he glanced up.

Hyesoo stepped into the room, her face a carefully constructed mask of indifference. In her hands was a camera, and she held it out to him silently. Jeonghan smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took it, already eager to see the results.

"She's full of my scent," he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent as his gaze shifted back to your sleeping form. His pupils dilated as he took in every detail of you—the flush on your cheeks, the marks he'd left on your skin, the way your body was still connected to his, as if even in unconsciousness, you belonged to him. "I'll save this picture in my head forever."

Hyesoo said nothing, her jaw tightening slightly as she turned away. She didn't need to watch him replay the footage; she already knew what was there. She had filmed it herself, after all. Jeonghan's obsession was no secret to her—it never had been. And yet, she stayed by his side, playing her role in his elaborate scheme.

Jeonghan leaned back against the couch, his free hand absently brushing over your arm as he scrolled through the clips. Each one was a masterpiece to him, a testament to his control, his possession of you. He watched them over and over, his expression shifting between adoration and something far darker.

"You're mine," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. The words were both a promise and a declaration, one he had ensured would be true no matter what.

Jeonghan's smirk deepened as he reviewed the footage one last time before setting the camera aside. Everything had gone exactly as he had planned.

From the moment he saw you, he had known you were meant to be his. But he also knew you wouldn't come to him willingly, not at first. So, he orchestrated everything—down to the finest detail.

Hyesoo had been a key player, pretending to be your friend, earning your trust only to betray it when the time was right. The rumors about you? All planted. The whispers about your connections to the higher-ups, the way people started to question your integrity—it had all been his doing. He needed you vulnerable, isolated, desperate enough to turn to him.

And it had worked. Every step, every move, had brought you closer to this moment. To him.

Even your role as the second lead in the film had been a calculated choice. He had pushed for it, knowing it would keep you close, knowing it would force you to rely on him as the chaos of the industry swirled around you.

"You really are perfect," he murmured, his fingers brushing over your cheek. "Even better than I imagined."

Hyesoo shifted uncomfortably in the corner of the room, her arms crossed as she avoided his gaze. She had agreed to help him, but even she hadn't anticipated the extent of his obsession. Watching it unfold, seeing the lengths he was willing to go—it made her stomach twist.

But she stayed silent. She always did.

Jeonghan glanced up at her, his smile sharp. "You've done well, Hyesoo," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "Don't think I've forgotten how valuable you've been to me."

Hyesoo's jaw tightened, but she nodded, her expression betraying nothing. She knew better than to challenge him. Not when he held all the power.

As you slept peacefully in his arms, Jeonghan allowed himself a moment of indulgence. He had won. Everything he had ever wanted was now his.

And he wasn't about to let you go.

Not now. Not ever.

a/n: thank you for reading. the plot isnt plotting cause like.. wtf did i just do? i shouldve just put a smut with no actual plot lmao. anyhow i hope reader likes it ! lmk if i missed a few waqrnings or what i should add on the tags/genre. ty ! LY! ᓚᘏᗢ

also, huge thank you for @ririesna who requested for this fanfic idea (actor x actor). without her req, i wouldnt be able to post anything at all. im open for requests, if you want to leave some, i will be posting.

i just made a taglist for oneshots (general groups)? click this link if you want to be added ;)

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prettyboyeddiemunson · 3 months ago

Text

perfectly imperfect.

summary: steve harrington comes into your campus workplace and flirts with you every chance he gets. after months of turning him down, you finally give in and decide to give him a try. after all, he’s the hottest ticket on campus among the girls, so there has to be something to it. right?

word count: 3.5k

warnings/notes: smut, breast play, oral sex (brief; f receiving), grinding, handjob, premature ejaculation, catching feelings

a/n: this is a college au with steve, based on a dream i had! i’m thinking he’s probably right around the age he was in season 4, so that would make him around 19-20 in this fic. as always, reader is 18+ and sorry if anything like this has been done before! i don’t have time to read fic much anymore, so i don’t know what is out there. i hope y’all enjoy!

also shoutout to my bestie @andvys for suggesting I write this dream as a one shot! ily and thank you for everything 🥺

_____

“what would you recommend, babe?”

you had to suppress an eye roll at the nickname. it was nothing new with steve harrington; every time he walked into the cafe where you worked, it was always the same old song and dance. he would walk in, smile at you, flirt, ask what you recommended, and would eat or drink it while sneaking the occasional glance at you. he was a blessing and a curse that you just couldn’t escape, not even outside of work. you had two classes with him–World History and Foundations Mathematics–and he would try to chat you up then, too. you knew his reputation around campus wasn’t a very good one; he was quite the player, apparently. you overheard girls talking about him at work and in class, talking about the time they had with him and how he never called or spoke much to them when he was done. you weren’t about that sort of life, but you had to admit you were growing curious about him. he had to be good if he was getting around and getting a reputation; the girls never said he was terrible. in fact, the opposite was true. you had been on many dates since you started going to college two years ago, but nothing ever stuck. you were mostly having flings yourself, but at least you let those down easily and didn’t just leave them hanging like he did.

“i recommend what i always do every time you come in here,” you said. “the scones are good today; get one of those.”

“i think i have an appetite for something else,” he said, eyeing you up and down. “i think i want to experience something a little sweeter.”

“you think you’re really smooth, don’t you?” you asked, chuckling. “do you realize how many guys come in with the same line every day?”

“damn, i’ve got competition?” he asked, shaking his head. “here i thought i was special.”

“oh, you’re special, all right,” you said, grabbing a scone and putting it on a paper plate. “i don’t think you realize just how special you are.”

“well, that’s a relief,” steve said, digging in his pockets for money. “i really wish you’d go out with me, though.”

“why?” you asked. “so you could fuck me and leave me, like you do all the rest?”

he shook his head. “no, it would be different with you. you’re different.”

you laughed, shaking your own head. “how many women have you used that line on?”

“come on, harrington,” someone said from behind him. “i want my coffee.”

“just a minute,” he said, leaning in close to you. “one date. we don’t even have to have sex, if that isn’t what you want. just give me a chance.”

you eyed the line behind him, and knew there was no getting out of it this time. he wasn’t going to let up until you gave in, apparently. you sighed, rolling your eyes before meeting his. “fine. one date and i’m calling the shots.”

“thank you,” he said. “that’s all i wanted.”

“yeah, i’m sure,” you said. “it’s two dollars for the scone.”

he handed you two one dollar bills and a ten. “a little tip for you, babe.”

you went to hand it back, but he was already gone, the line moving forward as you were forced to be professional yet again.

****

the night of the date came faster than you wanted. he had pestered you about it every day in class and at work, until you finally set it for the following friday night. you were off work and didn’t have many classes that day, so you thought it would be perfect. it would give you a chance to get ready, to prepare yourself, and to brace for what might happen. you’d been giving it a lot of thought since he’d asked, and you decided that maybe you wanted to sleep with him, after all. you would see how the date went first, of course, but you had no reason to expect that it would be bad. steve seemed like a decent enough guy; he was just a playboy. most men his age were, though, especially college frat boys, so you didn’t know what else you honestly expected.

you spent most of the afternoon working on yourself, and when the date finally came, he came to your room to pick you up. he couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you looked, and you had to admit that he looked handsome, too. he was wearing a light blue button-up shirt that was done up to just below his neck, showing off a spray of chest hair underneath and accenting his muscular arms. he wore blue jeans that were nice and not torn, brown dress shoes, and his hair was done up in its usual fashion. he looked damn good; even you had to admit that. you followed him as he walked, and he offered you his arm after a little bit. you took it, feeling your heart flutter as you did so. you had already decided, upon seeing him, that you were going to sleep with him. you couldn’t wait to break the news to him at the end of the night.

he took you to a nice restaurant just off campus, an classy little italian place that served the best food. you’d been there a few times, but never on a date. steve paid for everything, and when you were both walking back to campus, you decided to spring the news on him. you stopped walking and he did, too, giving you a puzzled look. you just smiled at him, hugging yourself for a moment before walking over and standing directly in front of him.

“so i made a decision,” you said. “one that i think you’re going to like.”

“what decision is that?” he asked.

“i think i wanna sleep with you tonight,” you said. “if you’re up for it, i mean.”

“i’m always up for that,” he said with a chuckle. “but why the sudden change of heart? you seemed pretty adamant to not sleep with me before now.”

you shrugged. “i guess i couldn’t live with myself if i passed up on steve harrington.”

he laughed. “well, i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i passed up the most beautiful girl on campus, either.”

your cheeks heated at that, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. “so…it’s on, then?”

“it’s on,” he said. “where should we go? my roommate is out with his girlfriend tonight, so my room might be the best bet.”

“okay,” you said. “let’s go there, then.”

he walked you to his dorm building and up to his room, which was, in fact, empty. it was a little messy, with clothes strewn about the floor, fast food wrappers on the desks, beer bottles hidden not-so-skillfully under the two beds, and posters of half-naked women adorning the walls. you had to resist rolling your eyes for the millionth time; it was such a typical guy room that it was almost hilarious. steve walked over to the bed on the right, sitting down and gesturing for you to do the same. he kicked off his shoes and you did the same, taking a seat next to him as he turned to face you.

“is it bad that i’m a little nervous?” he asked.

you looked at him, shocked. “you, nervous? why would you be nervous?”

he shrugged. “i don’t know. i guess because i’m not used to being with a beautiful woman like you.”

“yeah, and how many girls have heard that?”

“come on, i’m being serious.”

“so am i.”

“i’ve never really used that on someone. you’re the first.”

“wow, i feel special.”

he put one finger under your chin, tilting your head toward him. “you are special, though. at least you are to me.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said. “are we doing this or not?”

“yeah,” he said, drawing you in closer. “come here.”

he put his lips to yours, kissing you gently at first. it stayed like that for a little bit, his lips working softly against yours as you followed his lead. soon, though, he was kissing you a little harder, his tongue pressing between your lips as they met. he mewled softly, grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap. you straddled him, cupping his face as he kissed you more heavily. you whined, kissing him deeper as he began bucking his hips into yours. you picked up on his cue, grinding against him as you continued to make out. he groaned, grabbing your ass and guiding your movements. you moaned as well, continuing to move on him as he kissed you harder.

“fuck,” he said against your lips. “that feels so good.”

“you’re already getting hard,” you observed. “i can feel it.”

“i can’t help it,” he said. “you just have that effect on me.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, smirking at him as you leaned down to kiss his neck. “well, i feel pretty flattered, then.”

“i really wanna get your clothes off,” he said, tilting his head back to give you more room. “can i?”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “not yet. i wanna keep doing this for a little bit first.”

“you’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” he asked with a groan.

you nodded. “that’s right.”

“you’re such a tease,” he said. “but that’s okay, i like it.”

“oh you do, huh?” you asked, toying with the buttons on his shirt.

“hey, i thought you said we had to wait.”

“i said you had to wait. i didn’t say anything about me.”

“that hardly seems fair.”

“i’m the one calling the shots here tonight, remember?”

that quieted him, and he mumbled a word of permission. you giggled, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing him back on the bed. you started kissing down the middle of his chest, down his stomach to the top of his jeans, and then slowly back up. his breathing was slightly heavier as you worked on him, and he drew you in for a passionate kiss as you came back up. he pulled you on top of him again, where you resumed grinding him for the moment. his hands squeezed your ass, kneading the flesh there as you rocked against him. you whined, moving a little faster as he gasped against your lips.

“you’re gonna make me cum already if you keep doing that,” he said. “please, can i take your clothes off?”

you giggled, nodding. “fine. but not the bra or the panties yet.”

he eagerly removed your shirt and pants, discarding them to the floor with the rest of the clothes. he studied your body with hungry eyes, his pupils enlarging as he took in every detail. you couldn’t help but flush under his gaze, your cheeks hot as he studied you. you pushed him back down, kissing him hungrily, your hips moving again as he slapped your ass. you laughed against his lips and you could feel him smiling, so you kept going. after a minute, steve’s hands found the back of your bra, playing with the clasp. you smiled, knowing that you’d tormented him enough, and you drew back to grin at him.

“you can take it off now,” you said.

“i can?” he asked.

“yep,” you said. “go ahead.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he practically ripped the garments from your body, taking in every detail of your body as he did so. he licked his lips as he studied you, his eyes moving from head to toe and back again. your cheeks turned hot under his gaze, and you reached out to pull him closer. he went easily, his body pressed flush to yours as you chuckled.

“I think it’s your turn now,” you said. “it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

he nodded, hastily doing away with his clothes. as he did to you, you observed him from top to bottom, your eyes remaining glued on his cock. he was bigger than you expected, with good girth and even better length. a large vein ran up the underside, and his tip was pink and already oozing precum. you reached out to stroke him, and his lashes fluttered as he moaned under your touch. he looked at you with heavy eyes, his lips parted as his cheeks began to flush. you smirked at him, flicking your wrist as his body jerked slightly.

“who has the power now, huh?” you asked.

“you do,” he said, rutting into your hand. “god..”

“you know what I want you to do?” you asked.

“anything,” he said. “i’ll do anything you want.”

“i want you to eat me out,” you said.

“can i?” he asked. “please?”

“mmm hmm,” you said. “go ahead.”

steve turned you over so that you were lying flat on his bed. he kissed your neck, stopping at your breasts to give them some attention. he kissed over each one, sucking one nipple feverishly as he rubbed the other with his fingers. you moaned softly, grabbing his hair and giving it a slight tug as he, too, moaned. you giggled, running your fingers through his hair as he continued to work. he shivered, his eyes trailing up to look at you as he sucked your nipple a bit harder. you arched your back, bucking your hips impatiently as he trailed one hand down your body. he ran his fingers over your clit, barely ghosting it as you gasped. he smirked against your skin, his fingers ghosting your folds next. you wanted to slap him for being such a tease, but it felt so good that you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“you’re so hot,” he said, his hands coming up to squeeze your breasts. he moaned as he watched your nipples harden even more, his thumbs circling them. “the hottest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, whining as he started kissing his way down your body. “am i hotter than all those other girls you’ve been with, or did you use that line on them, too?”

“no, just you,” he said, winking up at you as he knelt between your legs. “i swear it’s just you. i told you, you’re different.”

you wanted to roll your eyes, but you didn’t. you were curious as to what he would be like, and now wasn’t the time to offend him or piss him off. you would take him at his word for now; it’s all you could do. you watched as he kissed your inner thighs, painfully slow, and as he kissed around your mound, also painfully slow. he was kissing anywhere and everywhere but where you really wanted him, and you almost pushed his head there. but you didn’t want to do that, so you waited, letting him get it out of his system. he did it again, a little faster, and then finally he was right where you wanted him.

his mouth felt like heaven, and it was a feeling that you’d never felt before with anyone else. his tongue was like velvet, wet and soft and perfect. he lapped at your folds lazily, using the tip of his tongue at first to tease you further. you moaned, sitting up on your elbows to watch him as he looked up at you. he groaned as he pressed his full tongue against you, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit and then back down. he did the same motion a few times, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. you arched, falling back on the bed and writhing as he sucked harder.

‘steve…” you moaned. “that feels so good.”

“oh yeah?” he asked, and you could feel him smirking against you. “you think it feels pretty good, huh?”

“yeah,” you said. “you’re good at this.”

his smirk widened, and soon he was fucking you on his tongue. he replaced that with his fingers after a few minutes, paying attention to your clit as he sucked again. his tongue swirled the small bud, moaning against it to add vibration. you gasped and bucked your hips, feeling the tightness beginning to settle in your lower stomach. you didn’t think you’d be so close already, but it had been awhile since you’d gotten off–with yourself or with anyone else. you were pent up, and it was about to come to a head very soon.

“i’m close already,” you told him. “please keep going.”

“already, huh?” he asked, grinning up at you.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you said. “it’s just been awhile.”

“sure,” he said, winking at you. “i’ll take your word for it.”

he kept going, fucking you harder on his fingers and sucking your clit harder. he shook his head back and forth, his eyes on you as he kept going. it only took a few more minutes before you were falling apart, cumming hard as you cried out his name. he kept going as you experienced your high, going slower and more gentle, watching as you arched your back, writhed, and tugged at his hair. he moaned, stopping once you came down from your high. he sat back and looked at you, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was proud of himself for what he’d just done.

“that’s a first,” he said. “usually i have to go for twenty minutes.”

“you poor thing,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “how ever will you survive?”

he chuckled, kissing his way back up your body. “you’re so sassy. i love it.”

“come here,” you said. “i wanna pretend to ride you.”

“pretend?” steve asked. “why not do it?”

“because i wanna make you work for it, that’s why,” you said, smirking at him.

“but i’m about to burst already,” he nearly whined.

“now who’s the one who might cum too soon?” you teased. “come here.”

he lay back on the bed, tucking his arms behind his head. “okay, babe. i’m here. do whatever you want to me.”

you straddled him, positioning yourself over his erection. you began to grind against it, moaning at the heavy, throbbing feeling of him against you. he hissed, his hands coming out to grab at your hips. you kept going, gliding along him at a steady pace as he looked up at you. he leaned up after a few minutes and started sucking at your nipples, lying back against the pillows and pulling you with him after a moment. you moaned, biting your lip as you started moving a little faster.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he said, and you could tell that he was right. he was twitching, his cock throbbing against you as you continued to glide. “please.”

you giggled, getting off of him and taking his cock into your hand. “tell me what you want.”

“I—“ he began, but it was soon over. he came all over your hand, his body in spasms as he bucked into your hand. he squeezed his eyes shut, digging the heels of his hands into them as he came down from his high. “fuck, I knew that was gonna happen.”

you chuckled, holding your hand up to your mouth. “look at me, steve.”

he did so, looking at you with heavy eyes. you started licking the cum off of your hand, making eye contact with him as you did so. he moaned as he watched, and pulled you down for a kiss after you were done. you lay next to him, snuggling against him as he held you close. it was silent, save for steve’s heavy breathing, and you opened your mouth to say something. he beat you to it.

“wow,” he said. “i never…that’s never happened to me before.”

“no?” you asked. “never? not once?”

“no,” he said, shaking his head. “i think it’s because i like you so much.”

you looked up at him. “you do?”

“I do,” he said. “you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, y/n. i think I wanna keep you.”

you smile at him, leaning up to kiss him. “you wanna know something?”

“what?” he asked, brushing some hair out of your eyes.

you kissed him again, a bit more passionately. “I think i wanna keep you, too.”

—

taglist: @andvys @littledemondani @etherealxwitch @eddieschains @happylilthought @trashmouth-richie @eiightysixbaby @thisbrokencapulet @sunkillerencoder @thatredlipped-classic

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fic

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