#life is about the small pleasures etc etc

[ja3yun]

Our Life | P.JS

jay x reader warnings: fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cum plugging, oral (f.rec), major theme of death and grievance, character death, mentions of alcoholism (very slight, not for mcs), descriptions of pregnancy and birth, strangers to married couple trope, insane amount of fluff, verging on soulmate au, hopeful ending even though it's sorrowful, some parts not proof read, anything else lmk! wc: 34.8k synopsis: one year after his wife passed away, jongseong reflects back on his life, causing him to miss you more than ever a/n: hi! writing this jay fic has come at a really funny time in my life. it's just a fic, i know, but for some reason i'm writing it so personally - a lot of this has to do with me or how i view things, the relationships i have had with my loved ones etc. this fic is the manifestation of the love i want and love i hope everyone experiences. i know we all deserve to have someone care about us so much that we feel safe and cherished. you deserve to be happy, i hope we all find that person. as always, reblogs, comments and feedback is all welcome! i also cried like 5 times writing this so...be warned.

*this fic has serious themes of death, please do not read if this upsets you or makes you uncomfortable! nothing is murder and nothing is violent, but i understand this theme can be upsetting for people!

As Jongseong hears the door of his house gently push open, he can already hear the familiar sound of tiny feet racing towards him. Moments later, the littlest one, Minji, bursts into the room, her laughter bubbling over as she makes a beeline for her great-grandfather.

“Poppy!” she cries, her small arms already outstretched, launching herself into his lap. Thankfully, Jongseong is seated in his favourite recliner so that helps him catch her. A warm smile plasters on his face, ready for her joyful embrace. Minji, at just five years old, is a whirlwind of energy, always eager to shower her great-grandfather with affection. She’s a bundle of life that never fails to brighten the room.

Minhee, her older brother, is a little more restrained. At nearly eleven years old, he’s beginning to see himself as too grown-up for such open displays of affection, though Jongseong catches the fond glint in his eyes. Minhee hovers near the door, perhaps torn between maintaining his cool exterior and giving in to the pull of family warmth.

The children call him “Poppy,” a sweet nickname coined by their mother, Ara, when she was a child. Grandad and Poppa had apparently been too much of a mouthful for her, and the name stuck through the generations. Jongseong smiles to himself, recalling how it all began.

As he waits for Ara to follow them in, Jongseong is pleasantly surprised when Jeyou steps through the door instead. His son, of course, a father himself, offers him a smile that’s full of love and history. Jongseong’s eyes twinkle as Jeyou enters, taking in the sight of his son with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. So many years had passed, and yet, in moments like this, they seemed to collapse in on themselves, leaving just the simple pleasure of being surrounded by family.

And this day a little more bearable.

"Got yourself a couple of shadows today, haven’t you, Dad?" Jeyou says, glancing at Minji who has made herself comfortable on her great-grandfather’s lap, her head tucked under his chin.

"Ah, wouldn’t have it any other way," Jongseong replies, his voice low but full of warmth. He places a gentle hand on Minji’s back, feeling her soft breathing as she calms down from her excited entrance. "Though, I expect you’ll be getting the same treatment soon enough with your old age."

Jeyou chuckles and shakes his head. "Oh, she’s all yours for now. Ara’s just grabbing some things from the car, but she’ll be in soon. Couldn’t resist having her kids run ahead."

Jongseong nods. That sounded just like Ara. Always the one to let the children take the lead, full of the same unbridled energy she’d had as a child. Even now, as an adult, she managed to keep that spark.

"Minhee," Jeyou calls, his voice gentle but nudging. "Aren’t you going to say hello to Poppy?"

Minhee hesitates for a moment, then steps forward. His gangly limbs betray his preteen awkwardness as if he's still adjusting to his growing frame. He shuffles over, his eyes on the floor, before glancing up at Jongseong with a shy smile.

"Hey, Poppy," he mumbles, and though his words are quiet, there’s warmth in his gaze.

"Come here, son," Jongseong beckons, and Minhee approaches. He leans down for a brief hug, one that’s a bit stiff but no less genuine. Jongseong pats his great-grandson on the back, feeling the familiar ache in his chest - an ache that comes from seeing the passage of time so vividly in the people you love.

Minhee quickly retreats to the sofa, where he pulls out a book from his rucksack, burying his nose into it as if he hadn’t just shared a tender moment. Jongseong chuckles softly, knowing well that Minhee’s quiet affection is just as real as Minji’s exuberant embrace.

"Just like you at his age," Jongseong remarks to Jeyou.

Jeyou raises an eyebrow. "Was I that shy?"

"Not shy, just...reflective," Jongseong murmured, his gaze softening as memories of Jeyou’s childhood flashed before him. Even as a boy, Jeyou had always been deep in thought, though there had never been a shortage of mischief hiding behind those thoughtful eyes.

But before they could slip too far into the past, the familiar sound of the front door creaking open stirred the present moment. Ara swept in, arms full of bags, her bright smile instantly lighting up the room.

"There’s my favourite man," she called out cheerily, her voice as warm as always. She placed the bags by the door and, in her usual way, let her gaze travel from her children to her father before finally settling on her grandfather. The fondness in her smile deepened as she approached him.

"Hello, Poppy," she said softly, bending down to press a kiss to his cheek. "How are you feeling today?"

Jongseong reached for her hand, his grip gentle but steady. "Better now that you’re all here," he replied, his voice tinged with a quiet sincerity.

Today wasn’t an easy day, and everyone in the room knew it - except for Minji, who was too young to understand the weight the date carried. The family had gathered not just for the usual visit but to offer comfort, to keep his mind occupied. Jongseong had been dreading this day for over a week, the memories from years past creeping into his thoughts, but seeing his loved ones around him made it a little more bearable.

Ara steps back to look around the room, her hands resting on her hips as if surveying a scene she knew by heart. "Right, then. Who’s up for a cup of tea?" she announced, though she didn’t wait for a reply. She already knew her answer.

Disappearing into the kitchen, she busied herself with the kettle, placing three cups in front of her and tossing teabags into each. The familiar clink of porcelain and the hum of the kettle filled the air, blending with the gentle sounds of the family settling in. Jeyou, already feeling at home, sank into the couch, his gaze drifting to his father.

"So," Jeyou began, his tone casual but laced with concern, "has the doctor called you yet about your heart? Your review’s coming up in a few weeks, isn’t it?"

Jongseong let out a soft sigh, not wanting to weigh the room down with his health concerns, but knowing it was pointless to brush it off. "Not yet. They’re supposed to get back to me soon, but you know how these things go."

In his mind, his heart is as fit as a fiddle despite the pieces shattered and medical scans telling him otherwise. Being seventy-six puts him at that age where he doesn’t quite fuss over the little things anymore, knowing that when he starts to go, it’s his time. His family don’t quite see it that way, but they always had a knack for worrying.

They get that from you.

Ara returns from the kitchen with a tray of steaming mugs, setting two on the coffee table and one on the side stroller Jongseong uses as a side table. It’s old and it’s definitely not supposed to be purposed for keeping his things close by, but he does it this way anyway. 

“You’re running low on milk and sugar, Poppy,” she states, smiling softly. It’s not like Jongeong to let things run to the last drop, but she supposes it’s probably the last thing on his mind these days. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Jongseong returns her kind expression and sits comfortably in his chair.

Jeyou’s eyes drift from the steaming tea on the table to the two untouched cups sitting beside it, their contents long gone cold. His gaze then falls on the doset box, where yesterday's and this morning's pills sit neglected in their transparent slots. A dull ache forms in his chest, growing heavier with each passing second. It’s not like his father to forget things like this. Something in his stomach twists - an unsettling feeling that only deepens when he looks over at Jongseong.

His father, seated comfortably in the old recliner, is absentmindedly running his fingers through Minji’s hair, but his expression is distant. His eyes, usually full of life, are clouded, as though he’s drifting somewhere far away. Jeyou knows that look too well, his father isn’t here in this moment, not really. He’s somewhere in the past, locked in thoughts he won’t share with anyone.

"Kids," Jeyou says, his voice firmer than usual, "why don’t you go play outside? It’s too nice for you to stay in here."

Minji, always eager for an adventure, springs from her great-grandfather’s lap and dashes towards the garden, her giggles trailing behind her like sunshine. Minhee lingers a bit longer, his hesitation clear, but a quick glance at his grandfather’s face tells him everything he needs to know. This was one of those moments where the grown-ups needed to talk. With a quiet nod, Minhee follows his sister outside, leaving the room heavy with unspoken words.

Jeyou scoots forward on the couch, his hands clasped tightly, his heart feeling as if it’s weighed down by a stone. "Dad," he begins, his voice thick with concern, "are you sure you’re looking after yourself?"

As expected, Jongseong forces out a laugh, the sound strained and far from genuine. "Of course I am. What kind of question is that?" He waves his hand dismissively, as if brushing away his son’s worry could somehow make it disappear. But Jeyou can see the cracks in his father’s defences, no matter how hard he tries to hide them.

Ara steps in before Jeyou can push further, her eyes soft but her tone direct. "You look really tired, Poppy," she says, careful not to let too much of her worry spill into her words. She doesn’t mention the state of the kitchen, though it’s hard to ignore. The counters are cluttered with dirty dishes, empty food wrappers, and crumpled paper towels. It’s a far cry from the meticulous space Jongseong used to keep, everything in its place, nothing left unattended. His once-pristine kitchen now looks like it’s seen better days, like he’s given up on keeping it tidy.

And his appearance - Ara notices that too. His hair, usually slicked back with the neatness he always took pride in, now lies flat and lifeless, as though he hadn’t bothered with it at all. Even his clothes seem carelessly thrown on, lacking the care he once put into his daily routines.

"I’m okay, I promise," Jongseong says, offering a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But they all know better. He’s far from okay, and they can see it in every little detail. His body may be failing, but it’s his spirit that seems most worn down. And that’s not something any doctor could fix with medication or surgery.

Jeyou sighs, the weight of his father’s stubbornness pressing down on him. He knows how difficult it is for Jongseong to open up, especially about something as delicate as his feelings. "Dad, I know it must be tough on you today, with Mum’s anniversary," Jeyou says softly, his voice cracking slightly at the mention of her, "but please, don’t neglect yourself. We need you here. We can’t lose you too."

The room falls silent, the air thick with unsaid things. Jongseong’s face twitches for just a moment at the mention of his late wife, and Ara, sitting by her father’s side, silently curses him with a sharp nudge to his ribs. Her eyes flicker with disapproval, not wanting to mention you so blatantly.

With his smile faltering, Jongseong’s eyes begin glazing over once more as he looks away, as though staring too long into his children’s worried faces might break him. "I’m alright," he murmurs again, softer this time, but no one in the room believes him.

It has been a year since you passed, and while it was easy to put on a brave face for months, something about knowing he has been without you for one entire year puts him in misery, the same misery he felt the day he found you laying on your shared bed, last gasps of breath already evacuated from your body.

jongseong’s heart, once full of love and purpose, now feels unbearably heavy without you. It’s not just the grief that weighs him down - it’s the love. A love that has nowhere to go, nothing to cling to. For over fifty years, his heart beat with the rhythm of your shared life, the quiet moments and laughter you wove into the years together. 

Now, without you, all that love is left to pool within him, filling the empty spaces with a bittersweet ache. He still wakes up wanting to tell you things, still reaches out for you in the night, only to be met with silence. That love, the part of him that was always meant for you, has no place to rest, and he feels its weight with every breath he takes.

He escapes to the past these days, just for the opportunity to see you again.

_____

The party is loud, an overwhelming hum of voices, music, and laughter blending together in a way that makes it impossible to think. The flat is small, much too small to hold the crowd that’s somehow crammed into every corner. 

People from all different majors are squeezed into the living room, the hallway, and even the tiny kitchen, balancing Tesco plastic cups on the edge of counters and bookshelves. It feels like the walls are closing in, the air thick with the smell of cheap alcohol and the heat of too many bodies in one space. Jongseong shifts uncomfortably, standing near the wall with his back pressed to it, hoping to stay out of the chaotic flow of people moving past him.

His friend, Sunghoon, is in his element, leaning over to chat with two girls from the science department. Jongseong can hear snippets of Sunghoon’s conversation - something about biology and "how easy it must be to share a dorm with a future doctor." Jongseong knows what his friend’s after. It’s the same for every party. Sunghoon is smooth-talking his way through the night, hoping to fuck one - or both - of the girls before the party winds down. Jongseong can't help but feel a sense of detachment from it all, wishing he were anywhere but here.

He glances down at his drink, swirling the last bit of beer in his cup, realising he hasn’t even taken a sip in the last half-hour. The music pounds in his ears and the conversations around him blur into a noise that grates against his thoughts. Everyone seems so eager to lose themselves in the moment, but all Jongseong can think about is how out of place he feels, like he’s in someone else’s world.

And then his eyes land on you.

Seated on the worn couch at the far end of the room, you look just as lost as he feels. Your shoulders are hunched slightly, arms folded across your chest, eyes scanning the room with a quiet detachment. It’s like you’re here, but not really. The party swirls around you, but you sit untouched by its chaos. There’s something familiar in the way your gaze drifts, a softness in the way you carry yourself, as if you’re silently wishing to be anywhere else, just like him. 

His heart skips, the noise of the party fading just a little as he watches you, wondering why on earth you are here, or where you even came from. He’s been dragged to enough of these house parties to recognise almost everyone; it’s always the same crowd of wasted university students, all looking for a cheap night and a place to get fucked up.

You shift slightly on the couch, adjusting your position as if you’re trying to get comfortable but failing. The small movement is enough to stir something in Jongseong, a quiet push that breaks through his hesitation of going over to speak with you. He pushes off the wall, weaving through the crowd, his gaze never leaving you. Each step brings him closer to you and further from the loud, chaotic energy around him.

When he finally reaches the couch, Jongseong stands there, smiling down at you. Up close, he notices the small details about you - the way your eyes are slightly glazed over like you're staring through the crowd rather than at it. Your posture is relaxed, like someone who's given up on finding anything remotely interesting in this chaotic scene. You’re lazily twirling a strand of hair around your finger, your other hand drumming absentmindedly on the armrest, and every so often, you let out a quiet sigh. It’s clear you’re bored, as if you're here out of obligation or maybe even on a dare, but definitely not because you're enjoying it.

Jongseong wonders for a moment if approaching you is the right move. Maybe you're waiting for someone, or maybe you'd rather just be left alone to your boredom. But he’s already here, and backing out now would be even more awkward. Besides, there’s a part of him that thinks you might welcome the distraction.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft but just loud enough to be heard over the music. He gives you a small, tentative smile, trying to convey that he’s not like the other loser men at this party, that he’s not here to make your night more unbearable. “Is that seat taken?”

The sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts, startling you for a split second before your eyes lock onto his face. And what a beautiful face it is. His sharp jawline, soft eyes, and the hint of smile lines add to his handsomeness. The dyed white hair that’s slicked back to showcase his fresh undercut makes your mouth dry, then water just a little as you catch yourself staring.

Shaking off the daze his looks have put you in, you nod your head and smile. “Actually, my friend, Imaginary, is sitting right here,” you joke, patting the seat next to you lightly, “but I think she might move for you.”

Jongseong smirks, charmed by your wit, and takes a seat, spreading his legs just enough that his knee brushes yours. A subtle, intentional move that sends a tiny jolt of awareness through you. The music pounds around you, and the room vibrates with the beat, but here, with him so close, it feels like you’re in a different world - a bubble separate from the chaos.

"Are you new?" he asks, his voice carrying a warmth that cuts through the cold disinterest of the party.

"No, but I don't normally come to parties like this," you admit, glancing around the crowded room.

"Why not?" His eyes stay on you, curious, almost as if he’s trying to decipher the puzzle of who you are. There is something so intriguing about you, his soul suddenly ignited by even the prospect of knowing you.

You gesture around you with a slight roll of your eyes. "Lots of drunk people with egos even though they're only uni kids? Not exactly my favourite." The words drip with sarcasm, your disdain evident in the flatness of your tone. You can’t think of anywhere worse than this - people stumbling around, half-shouted conversations about nothing of substance, the smell of stale beer and sweat hanging thick in the air. It’s a headache in the making, a mess of too much noise and not enough space, a place where everything blurs into a haze of chaos and bad decisions. You’d rather be anywhere else, where people know how to handle themselves without being obnoxious, where the air is fresh and the conversations have weight.

Your answer earns a snicker from Jongseong. He ducks his head, a smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, he looks genuinely amused - like he’s found a hidden gem amidst all the nonsense around him. He takes a second to soak it in, feeling something light and warm settle in his chest. 

When he glances back up at you, there’s a brightness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. "Okay, let me ask you another question, then - why are you here?" he asks, his tone playful but curious, like he’s genuinely invested in peeling back the layers of who you are. 

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. "I'm gonna have to start charging you for all these questions, y’know." There’s a teasing edge in your voice, but underneath it, there’s also a spark - something alive and electric, something that catches Jongseong off guard, a flicker in his heart.

He laughs softly, nodding along with a look that says he’s enjoying this more than he thought he would. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t just play along with the usual small talk but actually pushes back a little, makes him work for it. He hadn’t expected you to have so much spunk and confidence from just watching you sit there, looking lost in thought. It’s refreshing - a sharp contrast to the superficial conversations that fill the room around him. 

In all honesty, he thought you might have pushed him off, unwilling to even entertain him, never mind willingly try and drag out the conversation with him. That’s what he gets for judging a book by its cover.

"I can pay for a meet-and-greet, don’t worry," he says, his voice low and smooth, proud yet playful. His eyes gleam with a challenge, like he’s throwing down a gauntlet he hopes you’ll pick up. There’s an unspoken dare there, a flirtatious edge that makes your heart skip a beat. It feels like you’re both dancing on the edge of something - something that could tip into something real, something interesting, if either of you is brave enough to take the next step.

“So,” he continues, leaning back slightly, more relaxed now, “why are you here?”

He takes a sip of his drink, and it’s then that he notices you don’t have one. You don’t seem to mind, though, and he doesn’t comment on it, but it strikes him as a little odd. Typically, if someone is having a fuck awful time at a party, they drown themselves in alcohol to let inhabitions go and just pray to God they don’t make a fool of themselves. He knows there has to be a story there, and he can’t wait to uncover it.

"Thought I would check it out. I hear they’re all the rage," you say with a wry smile, clearly feeling the distaste on your tongue. 

Truth is, you’re trying new things this year, pushing your boundaries to help form your character. You’re sick of hearing about all these experiences through the lenses of TikTok videos and Instagram posts from your friends; it’s time to start living out the life you want. Not everything will be your cup of tea - tonight if quite evident of that, you can certainly cross parties off your FOMO list - but there is no harm in trying different things,

“Eh, parties are overrated, if I'm being honest,” he replies, his eyes tracing the features of your face. You’re so beautiful but so fucking familiar. He doesn’t know you, he would remember someone as ethereal as you. But there is part of him that feels you deep inside, as though you’ve rocked something in his soul.

Like you’re placing yourself home in his heart.

"Okay. Then why are you here?" you challenge back, your eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity.

Jongseong leans in a little, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “I hate these parties. Can’t stand how loud and irritating they are. The noise, the drunk people who can't hold their alcohol, the same shallow conversations...” His words trail off as he glances around, his lip curling in mild distaste. “I’ve always been a people person, but…just not these people.”

Sucking your teeth, you nod, agreeing with every last syllable of his sentence. You feel this on another level, but considering he seems to be acquainted with parties enough to dissect and disregard them so easily, you still ponder your question. 

Raising your eyebrows, you silently wait for him to continue.  

“Y’know Sunghoon? The campus heartthrob?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He hates to refer to his best friend as such, but that is literally his title within the university. Sunghoon is notorious for having girls and guys falling at his feet, kissing the ground he walks on because he has been voted Korea’s perfect face three years in a row. Jongseong doesn’t grudge it, he votes for his friend too, and he isn’t blind, he can see how attractive he is.

“Yeah?” you respond, intrigued.

“Well, believe it or not, that beautiful son of a bitch is my best friend.”

Considering the way this boy presents himself, you would have genuinely never guessed that he was friends with someone as high profile as Park  Sunghoon. However, it does explain why, even if he hates the parties, he attends nonetheless. 

You chuckle, your eyes glinting as you begin to steer the conversation in the direction you both want it to sail. “You’re saying that like you aren’t equally as pretty.”

Jongseong flushes, his cheeks dusting a faint pink. The warmth spreads across his face, and he bites back a grin, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. It’s the tiny confirmation he needed to know that you want to flirt with him. That information alone perks his confidence up, although still shy under your flattering observation. He quickly plasters on a teasing smirk, fluttering his lashes dramatically and placing his hand under his chin, wiggling his fingers. “Oh? So you think I’m pretty?”

The scene before you brings out an even bigger laugh from you than earlier, though it’s not mocking or condescending - just pure amusement and joy. It’s infectious, and Jongseong feels his heart swell at the sound. He has the sudden urge to make you laugh like that for a long time, to see that carefree sparkle in your eyes again and again. He doesn’t want to say forever, but his heart is sure screaming it.

“I think you’re pretty, yes,” you say, your smile soft and genuine, your eyes sparkling under the annoying table-side lamp with its harsh white bulb - a stark contrast to the warmth you radiate. The lamp is obnoxious and stupid, casting its ugly, sterile light on everything around it, much like several of the people at this party. But Jongseong can't help but find it almost poetic that it’s illuminating something - or rather, someone - so captivating. 

There’s a sense of irony in how this harsh, artificial light only seems to highlight the genuine softness in your expression, the way you carry yourself with a quiet confidence that makes you stand out without even trying. You shine so brightly, even in a room full of noise and chaos, and Jongseong begins to sense just why he was so drawn to you at first glance.

It’s not as if you’re ‘not like other girls’ or whatever cringe, indie-female-lead syndrome that sounds like. No, it’s that in a room full of people competing to be seen, you’re the only one who Jongseong cares to know about. There’s a magnetism to the way you occupy your space - comfortable in your own skin, bored but not bitter, playful but not insincere. You seem untethered from the superficial games playing out around you, and that’s what makes you different. It’s not that you’re trying to be; it’s that you simply are - at least, in Jongseong’s eyes.

He feels a warmth spread through his chest, a lightness he hasn’t felt for a long time. For a moment, the noise of the party fades, replaced by the sound of your laughter, ringing clear and unforced, like something rare and precious in a place like this. It strikes him then - how easy it would be to just keep listening to that sound, to find ways to make you laugh again, to see how your eyes light up when you’re amused.

“How about we get out of here?” Jongseong suggests, his voice laced with a hint of excitement that he can’t quite hide. “Grab some food, and I’ll walk you home.”

You raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Leaving this place does sound tempting...but here’s the thing, I don’t even know you,” you say, your words playful, though the interest in your eyes betrays how intrigued you really are.

He feels a flicker of embarrassment for not having introduced himself sooner. “Shit, sorry. Let me introduce myself.” He straightens up, setting his cup down with a small, almost sheepish grin. Then, with a playful seriousness that makes you chuckle, he extends his hand, inviting and warm. “I’m Jay, I’m 22 years old, I study music technology, and I’m single.”

You can’t help but smile at his theatrics, mirroring his gesture and placing your hand in his. The warmth of his skin sends a flutter through your stomach, your insides skipping in joy all of a sudden, but you ignore it, focusing instead on the easy banter between you. “My name is Y/N, I am 23 years old, and I am also single,” you reply, your tone matching his playful formality.

His grin widens, a flash of confidence in his eyes. “Sounds like the perfect match, don’t you think?” There’s a charm to him that’s hard to resist, an easy confidence that makes you feel like you’ve known him much longer than just these few minutes.

As you hold his gaze, you find yourself drawn to him in a way that surprises you. It’s not just his looks - though there’s no denying he’s handsome - it’s his energy, his wit, the warmth that radiates from him. Never in your life has someone matched your energy so well. He’s like a breath of fresh air in a space that feels stifling, and it’s intoxicating in a way that no drink here could ever be.

You knew, from that very moment, that you wanted to know more about him, and he knew he was going to marry you one day.

_____

"A treasure hunt?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice as you raise an eyebrow at him.

Jongseong had thought about you nonstop since the moment he walked you home from that party. A few stolen moments in your company, a brief but memorable conversation - it had not been enough. Not nearly enough. It was as if something inside him ignited that night, a quiet but unrelenting fire, burning through his thoughts whenever your face crossed his mind. The way you laughed, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke - it was intoxicating, and he found himself craving more. So much more. 

His friends had noticed too; he wasn’t subtle in the least. Every chance he got, he’d talk about you, about the brief time you two had spent together, already analysing every moment like a lovestruck fool.

And so, he’d come up with this date: a treasure hunt. A way to get to know you, to create an experience that wasn’t just the mundane dinner or movie date. No, this had to be different. You deserved different. Something unique. He’d spent days working out the details, coming up with clues, places, and the perfect way to make this evening special. He wanted you to smile, to laugh, to feel how much thought he had poured into this. 

Jongseong grins, proud of himself, "Yep. Well, sort of. I'm going to give you an envelope, and you're going to figure out the riddle."

Your lips curve into a soft smile, the kind that makes his heart race in a way he’s almost embarrassed to admit. You're used to men putting in the bare minimum. Dinner and a movie, sometimes even just a text at 11 pm, wondering if you were still awake. But this? This is different. He’d thought about this, actually put in effort. A treasure hunt on a first date? It was quirky, yes, but endearing. It makes you wonder if somehow, during that boring party, you found a ruby amongst diamonds. The idea makes your stomach flutter slightly and anticipation build.

"Okay," you tease, holding out your hand, palm up. "Where is this magical envelope with all the answers then?"

"Well..." Jongseong steps closer to you, the air between you buzzing with unspoken tension, playful and light. He pulls the envelope from his suede brown jacket pocket and dangles it just above your open hand. As you reach for it, Jongseong pulls away at the last second, flashing you a mischievous grin.

“Really?” You huff, your voice carrying more amusement than frustration. He’s playing with you, and you can’t deny you enjoy it.

"Not so fast," he says, heart thrumming in his chest so loud because fuck you look so beautiful, he just wants to be as close to you as possible. So, he steps even closer, his body towering over yours. The warmth from his body feels almost tangible, and the playful gleam in his eyes makes your heart stutter. "You have to answer me one question before I give it to you."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, though it’s all in good fun. "So not only do I need to use my brain and solve a puzzle, I also have to divulge personal information? You really know how to get a girl talking."

"Pretty much, yeah." His smile is smug, and you can tell he’s feeling particularly clever about his little scheme. It’s adorable, really. 

"And if I say no?"

"Then this date ends very quickly," he shrugs, feigning nonchalance, though you can tell he’s trying hard to mask his anticipation. He leans in slightly, voice low and teasing. "And you miss out on my meticulously planned adventure."

His words are light, but there’s a subtle undercurrent of vulnerability there. He’s trying to play it cool, but you sense how much he hopes you’ll say yes. That small spark of emotion hidden behind his teasing makes your heart soften just a little more. There’s something so sweet in how much effort he’s putting in, and you can’t help but feel drawn to it. Feel drawn to him.

With a dramatic sigh, you nod, "Fine, what’s the question then?"

Jongseong chuckles, clearly pleased with himself and his persuading manner. "Straight to the point. I like it." He holds the envelope out again, this time a little closer to your palm. "What’s your favourite type of food?"

You pause, considering for a moment before a smile spreads across your face. "Hmm... Italian, or! Caribbean."

He raises an eyebrow at your sudden burst of enthusiasm. "Both?"

"I mean, how could I possibly choose between ravioli and kabritu stoba?" You laugh, feeling the lightness of the conversation flow easily between you. This is nice, it feels like you have somehow known each other for years.

"Fair enough," he says, nodding approvingly. He waves the envelope slightly, catching your attention. "Now, open this."

You tear it open carefully, unfolding the piece of paper inside. The words are written in neat, careful handwriting, a small clue to the meticulous planning that went into this.

"To taste where flavours meet and blend, Find the 5treet where numb3Rs enD. Look where hungry students convene, The number’s hidden in this scene."

You frown slightly, reading it over again. Riddles aren’t exactly your strong suit, but you try to piece it together. Okay, there's a 53 in there, and R and D are capatilised...hungry students? Then it hits you, a beam of satisfaction at how quickly you managed to solve it shining from your pleased grin.

"53rd Note!" you exclaim, eyes lighting up. "The food stall on campus!" You look at him, a grin tugging at your lips. "I'm right, aren’t I?"

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Jongseong simply gestures for you to lead the way. What he doesn’t expect, however, is for you to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his in a way that feels so easy, so natural, it takes him by surprise. His heart skips a beat, something he didn’t think was possible in a moment as simple as this. Your hand in his feels...perfect. Warm, comforting, and everything he didn’t know he needed until now.

You feel the shift too - the way the simple touch adds a new layer to the evening. There’s something electric in the air, a sense of anticipation and excitement. It’s just a handhold, you tell yourself, but there’s more to it. The quiet understanding, the subtle acknowledgement of a connection that neither of you is ready to speak about just yet, in fear of jinxing something.

As you walk together toward the diner, the city lights twinkling above, the world feels a little smaller. It’s just the two of you, hands clasped, both of you teetering on the edge of something that feels new and exhilarating. Jongseong glances at you from the corner of his eye, his heart pounding in a way he knows he won’t forget. He’s down bad for you, that much he’s realised, fuck, he even came to this conclusion when you told him your name. But now, holding your hand, walking beside you on a slightly chilly evening, the sun setting in for bedtime while the moon starts its shift, he thinks maybe - hopefully - you might be down for him too.

_

The walk to 53rd Note is relatively short, yet it feels like time expands as you and Jongseong fall into an effortless rhythm of conversation. There’s no awkwardness, no fumbling through the typical, banal exchanges that often fill first dates - no one asking about favourite colours or talking endlessly about the weather surrounding you. Instead, the dialogue between you flows naturally, easily, as if you’ve known each other far longer than you have.

Jongseong’s questions are thoughtful, pulling you into a deeper conversation that takes you by surprise in the best way possible. "Why did you pick your major?" he asks, genuine curiosity lacing his tone. You find yourself opening up, explaining your passions and dreams, not feeling the need to hold back. There’s something about the way he listens that makes you feel heard, truly heard. His eyes never wander, his attention never falters - he is fully attentive.

"Is silver jewellery your thing, or are you allergic to gold?" he asks with a chuckle, glancing at the small silver ring on your finger. The question is odd but endearing, making you laugh. And when you ask about his interest in food, you learn that cooking is one of his many hidden talents. He admits to almost studying culinary arts before choosing music tech, a decision that sparks even more questions between you both.

The conversation continues, and you feel your guard slowly falling, piece by piece. You even ask him why he decided to talk to you that night at the party. His answer is simple, yet it holds weight. "I just wanted to get to know you."

By the time you reach the little food stall nestled on the corner of the student campus, you’re both lost in conversation and laughter. The place is a campus favourite, known for its amazing food and usual agonising long queues. It’s the kind of spot everyone flocks to after lectures or late-night study sessions. But tonight, something is off. The shutters are down, and the sign on the shutter swings lazily in the breeze, declaring the stall closed.

"I-It’s closed," you stammer, disappointment heavy in your voice, not because you can’t eat here, but because you feel a twinge of guilt knowing how Jongseong must have spent time planning all of this, and now you've hit a hurdle at the first stop. The last thing you want is for his carefully thought-out plan to be ruined so suddenly.

But when you turn to face him, the smile on his face hasn’t faltered. If anything, it’s grown wider, as if he’s completely unfazed by the situation. "Come on," he says, his voice full of quiet confidence as he gently squeezes your hand and leads you towards the shutter.

The stall is small but charming, with a bright yellow exterior and hand-painted menus plastered along the walls. Colourful string lights hang above it, though they’re unlit now, swaying lightly in the evening breeze. You notice a small table tucked beside the stall, probably a place for students to gather and chat as they wait for their orders. Everything about this place radiates warmth, even though it's currently closed.

Jongseong raises his hand and knocks on the metal shutter, the sound loud enough to startle a few birds perched nearby. Moments later, the shutter rolls up with a slow creak, revealing a boy wearing an apron and hairnet on the other side. His face lights up as he sees you both, his excitement palpable.

"Two to go, please," Jongseong grins at his friend, whose eyes gleam with understanding. Jake, nods enthusiastically, already bustling behind the counter. You quickly realise this is all part of Jongseong’s plan.

"You... how did you know he was in there?" you ask, confusion and amusement blending together as you look between Jake, who is clumsily wrapping up your food, and Jongseong, who’s leaning casually against the counter, looking as if everything is going perfectly to plan.

Jongseong’s cool demeanour makes you smile. "I know the owner," he says with a nonchalant shrug. "He let me borrow the hut for a minute."

In truth, Jongseong had to beg Woobin - the actual owner - to close up shop during peak hours. It wasn’t an easy feat. He had offered everything he could think of in exchange: guitar lessons, study help, and even his favourite hoodie. Woobin had eventually relented after enough pleading, but only on the condition that Jongseong wouldn’t touch the stock. Still, it worked out, and now here he is, pretending it was all effortlessly arranged.

"The normal guy isn’t here, though?" you ask, glancing at Jake, who looks completely out of his depth as he fumbles with the wrapping paper. It’s clear he doesn’t normally work here, but you can’t help but appreciate his enthusiasm.

Jongseong shifts slightly, his posture still casual, but you notice the flicker of nervousness in his eyes. He takes a breath, his voice calm but tinged with something deeper. "Ah, well... I cooked this meal."

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you see a flash of vulnerability in him, a rare crack in his otherwise confident exterior. He’s laid himself bare now. The pressure isn’t just about whether this date is going well - it’s about whether you’ll like his food. 

For Jongseong, cooking is an act of love. Growing up, it had always been how his family showed they cared. His mum, his grandmother, they had taught him that food was more than just sustenance. It was a way to express emotion, to bring people together. And now, he’s hoping you’ll understand that.

He watches you carefully, his heart pounding in his chest as he waits for your reaction. This isn’t just any meal. It’s his way of subtly showing you how much he could care for you, not just tonight, but for as long as you’ll have him. You can feel the weight of his unspoken words, the silent hope behind his playful banter. It’s more than just food; it’s a gesture, a glimpse into how deeply he’s already fallen for you.

Jake hands over the dishes with an exaggerated flourish, grinning from ear to ear. "Enjoy, my beautiful lovebirds," he says, winking at the two of you. You stifle a laugh, watching as Jongseong’s face flushes slightly, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. He’s clearly embarrassed by his friend’s teasing, and for a moment, you think he might actually throttle Jake. But you, on the other hand, find it sweet - endearing even - and thank Jake with a bright smile, not at all put off by the comment.

Being lovebirds with Jongseong isn’t hard to imagine, not really.

As you and Jongseong approach the small table near the stall, you take a moment to appreciate the surroundings. It’s a simple wooden setup, aged from the constant exposure to student life - scuffed by countless bags, elbows, and books. Yet tonight, it feels like it’s transformed into something more intimate as if the evening air and the quiet chatter in the distance have turned it into your own private dining space. The string lights above the stall, though unlit, seem to glimmer faintly in the twilight, casting a soft glow over the scene. The air is cool, but not cold, carrying the faint scent of campus greenery and the distant hum of city life.

Jongseong pulls out one of the two chairs for you, a small gesture, but one that sends a flicker of warmth through you. As you sit, he unravels the paper bag, the rustling sound filling the air, and the intoxicating aroma of the food reaches your nose before you even see what’s inside.

The first thing you notice is the kimchijjigae. The spicy tang hits you instantly, its deep red broth shimmering with flavour. The scent of fermented cabbage, tofu, and gochugaru wafts up, causing your stomach to rumble in anticipation. Beside it are two perfectly portioned servings of fried rice, golden and inviting, alongside bindaetteok - crispy mung bean pancakes that look so perfectly golden-brown, you can almost hear the crunch as you imagine biting into them.

Everything looks so carefully prepared, yet it’s simple, unpretentious. The kind of food that speaks volumes about the one who made it. Your heart swells as you realise how much thought went into this meal, into every tiny detail. It's not just about the food, it's about the care behind it.

"You made all of this?" you ask softly, your voice tinged with awe as you gaze at the beautifully arranged dishes in front of you. Despite the simplicity, the food looks incredible, and you can feel the thought and effort poured into it. You glance up at Jongseong, your eyes filled with admiration.

He nods, handing you a cup of water after pouring it carefully from the bottle Jake had given him. "Yeah," he says, his tone casual, but there’s an underlying nervousness in his eyes, as if he’s waiting for your reaction, hoping you’ll like what he’s made. "Everything’s vegan too. I wasn’t sure if you had any dietary restrictions or didn’t eat meat, so I went with the safest option."

That small detail, the consideration behind it, makes your chest tighten. He had thought of everything. You’d never mentioned anything about your diet, yet he had gone out of his way to make sure the meal would suit you, just in case. It’s such a thoughtful gesture, so full of quiet care, that it nearly overwhelms you. It’s not just the food he’s offering - it’s a piece of himself, his heart wrapped up in every bite.

Your heart swells with affection, and you smile so widely it almost hurts. "That’s...incredibly thoughtful," you murmur, feeling the weight of what he’s done settle warmly in your chest. You’re not used to people putting this much effort into dates, let alone cooking a meal tailored to your needs without even knowing them. In fact, you don’t think anyone has ever put this much effort into you as a person. It makes you feel seen, cared for, in a way that surprises you.

Without another word, you take your chopsticks and carefully lift a small piece of bindaetteok, its crispy edges crackling slightly as you bite into it. The taste is immediate; crispy on the outside, soft and delicate inside, with a rich flavour that bursts on your tongue. It’s perfect, so perfectly seasoned and balanced that you can’t help but let out a small, delighted squeal.

Your eyes light up as you look at him, your hands coming together in a quick, enthusiastic clap. "Oh my God, Jongseong!" you exclaim, your excitement bubbling over as your feet bounce under the table. "This is amazing!"

Jongseong lets out a relieved laugh, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he watches your reaction. His eyes soften, filled with a quiet joy that he can’t quite put into words. "I’m glad you like it," he says, his voice a little quieter now, the relief and warmth evident in his tone. But there’s something more in his expression, a look of pure contentment as if seeing you happy has made all the anxiety he’s been feeling completely worth it.

He wants to make you this happy forever.

You dig into the rest of the food eagerly, trying the kimchijjigae next. The broth is spicy but comforting, the heat hitting you just right without being overwhelming. The fried rice is fluffy, with a subtle but rich taste that perfectly complements the other dishes. Every bite feels like a hug, the kind of meal that fills both your stomach and your heart.

As you eat and chatter, you can’t help but look at Jongseong, this boy who’s already managed to sweep you off your feet without even trying, your heart doing most of the soaring. You see the way he watches you, the small smile that tugs at his lips every time you take another bite or tell him another story. He’s nervous, but proud, clearly pleased that you’re enjoying the meal. And in that moment, you realise how much he’s already starting to mean to you. This is more than just a first date - it’s the beginning of something, something that feels real and full of possibility.

As you finish the last bite, you feel a surge of warmth spreading through you—not just from the food, but from the entire experience. The way Jongseong has thought through every detail, from the meal to the riddles, makes your heart swell with affection. You smile, letting the emotion seep into your voice as you look up at him. "Jongseong," you say softly, holding his gaze, "this was...perfect. Compliments to the chef."

Without missing a beat, Jongseong's face lights up with pride. He stands up with an exaggerated bow, playing up his role as the triumphant chef, and gives a few playful nods to an imaginary audience. His movements are full of cocky grace, a confidence that’s both endearing and maddening in the best way. You can’t help but laugh, your body suddenly feeling warmer at how effortlessly charming he is - this is depth to Jongseong that you desperately want to unravel, layer by layer.

In more ways than one.

Still glowing with laughter, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out another envelope, teasingly waving it in front of you. "Now," he says, his smirk growing wider, "you want the next envelope?"

Nodding eagerly, you can barely contain the glee and anticipation bubbling up inside you. The treasure hunt has been so fun, and now you’re ready to see what’s next.

"Okay," he begins, placing the envelope on the table in front of you, his eyes glinting with mischievous delight. "But first, you’ve got to answer my question."

You nod again, this time pretending to adopt a serious game face, your brows furrowing in faux concentration as you prepare yourself for whatever difficult question he’s about to ask.

"Who was the first person you ever went to see in concert?" Jongseong asks, leaning in, his smirk turning a little more playful.

Your confident expression falters as you immediately dissolve into laughter, the memory of your first concert flashing vividly in your mind. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to suppress your giggles, but it’s no use. Jongseong raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. "Oh, there’s a story here, huh?" he prompts, grinning wider. "Is it embarrassing?"

"Not embarrassing... maybe," you begin, still giggling as the memory takes hold of you. "It was... an ‘In the Night Garden’ experience. I was seven years old, and I got to dance with them on stage." You snort, remembering how excited and utterly starstruck you were as a child.

Jongseong blinks once, then twice, as if trying to process the image, and then bursts out laughing. He leans back in his chair, throwing his head back with full, hearty laughter that echoes through the quiet evening air. It’s a deep, unrestrained laugh that makes your heart skip a beat, the kind that feels as warm and genuine as everything else about him. You join in, your laughter melding with his, both of you giggling like children at the sheer absurdity of your revelation.

"In the Night Garden?" he repeats, still chuckling, his voice filled with disbelief. "The kids' show? I was expecting you to say something like EXO or SHINee!"

You hide your face in your hands, the realisation dawning on you that it is, in fact, kind of embarrassing. But you can’t help but laugh at yourself. "I did see EXO and SHINee later on, but they weren’t my first!" you protest between giggles.

"You didn’t think to lie?" he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Not at all," you say, your voice softening as the laughter dies down. There’s something wistful in your tone now, a hint of sincerity that catches even you by surprise. "I don’t want to lie to you, not about the silly stuff and…not about the serious stuff either."

For a moment, the air between you changes. The playful banter gives way to something deeper, a quiet understanding that passes between you. It’s as if, in this small moment, you’re both realising how much you want to be honest with each other - how much you want to truly know each other. You see Jongseong’s face shift, his teasing grin softening into something tender, something full of affection. He can see it, the way you’re falling a little deeper into him with every word, every shared laugh, and the joy that fills his face is undeniable. His eyes sparkle, and his lips curve into a smile so warm, it feels like a promise.

"Well," he says, pushing the envelope across the table toward you with a soft, satisfied sigh, "I think you’ve earned the next clue."

With a grin, you eagerly take the envelope, your fingers tingling with excitement as you carefully tear it open. The riddle inside reads:

"Under a bridge of lights, a river’s friend. Where music plays, the night will never end. So gather near, beneath the sky so bright, And hear the melodies that fill the night."

The moment you finish reading it, a confident smile spreads across your face. "Oh, this is easy," you say, wiggling your shoulders smugly. "It’s the Han River."

Jongseong nods, impressed but not surprised. "Of course. But there’s a little surprise waiting for you. Come on." He stands, holding out his hand to you, his eyes twinkling with proud knowing.

You take his hand instinctively, your fingers curling naturally around his. As you stand up, you find yourself moving closer to him, your bodies leaning into each other in a way that feels effortless, natural. The walk toward the river feels different, like every step brings you closer, not just physically but emotionally. The night air wraps around you, cool but pleasant, and the distant city lights shimmer like stars scattered along the horizon. The quiet hum of life around you fades into the background as your focus narrows to the warmth of Jongseong's hand in yours and the soft sound of your footsteps together.

Your heart beats steadily, not with nerves, but with a quiet certainty: you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

_

As you approach the Han River, the usual serene atmosphere is broken by the soft hum of excitement. A crowd is gathered by one section, and you spot people seated in a semi-circle, the area aglow with warm, delicate fairy lights and scattered fake candles that twinkle like stars against the night sky. Amps are neatly arranged around a modest stage setup, cables snaking across the ground as if drawing people into the intimate space. The whole scene feels like it’s been lifted from a dream—cosy, inviting, and charged with quiet anticipation.

You turn to Jongseong, eyebrows raised in question. "Is this one of those busking things?"

"Not just any busking thing," he corrects you, his grin widening as he pulls two tickets from his pocket. His excitement is hard to contain as he watches you inspect them.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes fall on the print: Sam Kim, filming for Begin Again Open Mic.

"How did you—?" you begin, stunned, unable to process how he’d managed to pull off something so incredible.

"I might have stalked your Instagram a bit," he admits with a sheepish chuckle, though his expression is anything but embarrassed. "Saw you post about him a few times and figured it was a sure thing.” The tickets weren’t easy to get, though, that part he isn’t telling you. He had to sell one of his precious guitars to make it happen, but the look on your face right now? Totally worth it. 

Your eyes well up, not from sadness, but from a deep, overwhelming appreciation. There’s something unfamiliar yet beautiful blooming in your chest, a warmth that spreads through you and makes your heart race in a way it hasn’t before. "Thank you so much, Jongseong," you whisper, the words falling out on their own. 

Never have you looked at a man and felt this way, and you don’t think you ever will unless it’s Jongseong.

Before you can stop yourself, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. At first, he seems caught off guard, his body stiffening for a moment. But then, as if the feeling clicks into place, he quickly relaxes into the hug, his arms encircling you with gentle but firm pressure. You feel him bury his face briefly into your hair, inhaling your scent, committing it to memory like it’s something precious he wants to hold onto. His warmth wraps around you like a protective shield, and for a second, the world fades away.

If this is what being with you is like, he never wants to spend another minute apart.

"Come on," he murmurs into your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Let’s get our seats."

He leads you toward a blanket with his name written on a small tag in, neatly reserved in one of the best spots. As you approach, he helps you settle down onto the blanket, standing behind you attentively as you smooth out your skirt. It’s a simple gesture - making sure you’re comfortable, that your clothes are fixed just right and you don’t unwillingly flash the poor couple behind you - but it feels like so much more. Your skirt, a flowing, light fabric that swishes around your legs, catches the evening breeze as you adjust yourself, and you find yourself grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Once you’re seated, Jongseong slips down beside you, the space between you both comfortably close. He takes off his jacket and places it over your legs, to shield you from the biting cold wind from the river and reserve your modesty. 

Just as you settle in, the quiet murmur of the crowd dies down, and the soft strum of a guitar fills the air. Sam Kim steps onto the small, makeshift stage, his presence met with excited murmurs and appreciative applause from the audience.

You can’t believe it. Sam Kim, live and in person, just a few metres away. Your heart swells as the first notes of ‘Closer’ begin to play, the song wrapping around you like an old memory, one you didn’t realise you had been holding so close. The smooth timbre of Sam’s voice fills the cool night air, his words resonating deep within you.

You feel yourself lean instinctively toward Jongseong, and without hesitation, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer into his side. His warmth anchors you as the music washes over you both, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. He presses his chin softly atop your head, his hand lightly tracing your arm in slow, comforting strokes.

The tenderness of the moment, combined with Sam Kim’s voice singing about longing and love, stirs something deep inside you. As the next song begins - Seattle - its delicate melody and heartfelt lyrics unravel any composure you had left. Tears prick at your eyes, and you can’t help but let them fall as the song’s quiet emotion seeps into every fibre of your being. There’s something about the raw vulnerability in the music, in the moment, that makes it impossible to hold back.

Jongseong notices right away. Without a word, he gently tightens his hold on you, pulling you closer into him as if to shield you from the overwhelming emotion. He presses his lips softly against your temple in a tender, wordless gesture of comfort, his breath warm and steady against your skin.

As soon as his mouth makes contact with your skin, he feels sick in such a profound way, that all his love and realisation is now reaching from his toes, past his heart, and into his brain.

You glance up at him through your damp lashes, and he meets your gaze with such sincerity that your heart skips a beat. His eyes are full of unspoken promises, of quiet understanding. He doesn’t say anything, but the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, speaks louder than words ever could. In that moment, it feels like the music, the river, the night sky, and Jongseong are all blending together in perfect harmony.

The rest of the performance unfolds in a beautiful haze of music and soft touches. Each song Sam Kim plays feels like a gift, and by the time the last note fades into the night, you’re left with a feeling of warmth and connection that goes beyond the evening itself. It’s as though something shifted between you and Jongseong - a silent but profound acknowledgement that tonight was about more than just a date.

The final notes of the performance linger in the air, weaving through the soft hum of conversations around you. As the crowd begins to disperse, you wipe the last of your tears, touched not only by the music but by the entire night, Jongseong has crafted for you. His presence feels like an anchor, steady and reassuring amidst the emotional whirlpool of the evening.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" His voice is filled with concern, his gentle eyes scanning your face as though searching for any lingering sadness. You sense his earnestness, his desire to make sure every second of tonight was perfect for you. Jongseong knew you liked Sam Kim, but he hadn’t expected your deep connection to the music to stir such raw emotion in you. But now, seeing the impact it had, he’s certain Sam is officially his favourite artist too, simply because of what he’s done for you.

Smiling through the tenderness swelling in your chest, you nod and offer a playful pout. "I'm more than okay. Really, Jongseong, thank you so much for all of this. I don’t think I’ve ever had a date like this," you laugh, the joy bubbling up as you stand up, Jongseong quickly offering his hand to help you to your feet. His touch is light, but there’s an intimacy in the way he smooths out the wrinkles of your skirt, his fingers brushing over the fabric as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

A laugh escapes you again, this one softer, almost wistful. "I don’t even think I’ll ever have a date like this again."

But the truth behind your words hits deeper than you let on. You know someone like Jongseong is rare, a once-in-a-lifetime kind of soul. The universe doesn’t often gift the world people like him so easily, and yet here he is, standing before you, having planned the most thoughtful evening you’ve ever experienced. It feels like a miracle, like some kind of cosmic alignment that allowed you to meet him.

Jongseong, ever so sweet, tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. "Oh, you will," he says with a soft shake of his head, a playful yet sincere smile tugging at his lips. "Because I’m going to take you on dates bigger and better than this."

His words settle in your chest, a gentle promise that fills you with an almost dizzying sense of happiness. He’s not just thinking about tonight; he’s already imagining the future - your future together. What you don’t know is that during the mini-concert, as the singer’s voice crooned through the air, Jongseong was secretly planning the next date, and the one after that, and the next one after that one, and so many more. In his mind, he’s already picturing you both years down the line, holding hands when you’re old and grey, still laughing, still sharing moments like these. He’s jumping the gun here but that’s how much he wants you in his life, no, needs you in his life.

You reach up, your hand cupping his face, your thumb gently stroking the cool surface of his cheek. His skin feels smooth under your touch, but there’s a warmth beneath it, a warmth that spreads from him to you. "How about I plan the next one?" you offer, the words carrying a weight of confirmation - you want more. More moments like this, more laughter, more adventures. More him.

Jongseong’s eyes light up, his heart swelling with happiness. "Deal," he says, his voice low but laced with excitement. His gaze, however, drifts lower, his eyes falling to your lips. The air between you shifts, suddenly charged with a new kind of energy. He’s no longer just thinking about the next date; he’s thinking about now. The urge to kiss you swells inside him, consuming his thoughts. He wants to feel your lips on his, to communicate the emotions he hasn’t been able to fully express with words. His pulse quickens as he realises just how close you are, how easy it would be to lean in, close the gap, and make this night even more unforgettable.

You sense his desire, and a matching one blooms within you. Your heart beats faster as you step closer, rising onto your tiptoes. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you press your lips against his.

The kiss is soft at first, a delicate brush of skin against skin, but it carries the weight of all the unspoken feelings between you. Jongseong stills for a moment, his breath catching as he savours the sensation of your lips on his. There’s a gentleness in the way he kisses you, a quiet reverence as though he’s afraid to break the spell. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepens the kiss, but never rushes. Each movement is careful, slow, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

Your body tingles with warmth, a soft hum of pleasure spreading through you as you kiss him back. The world around you fades into the background—the quiet murmur of the river, the distant buzz of people - all of it disappearing as you lose yourself in the moment. His lips are warm and inviting, moulding perfectly to yours as though they were always meant to fit together. It’s sweet and unhurried, as if you have all the time in the world to explore the depth of this feeling.

As the kiss lingers, you feel the intensity of his emotions bleeding through, each press of his lips a silent confession. He’s telling you, without words, how much he’s already fallen for you. How he’s imagined a future with you, a lifetime of nights like this one. There’s a vulnerability in the kiss, an openness that makes your chest tighten with something more than affection. It feels like trust, like promise, like everything you’ve ever wanted but didn’t know you needed.

When you finally pull away, your breath mingles with his in the cool night air, your lips tingling with glee. His eyes are still closed, savouring the aftertaste of the kiss, as though he’s replaying it in his mind, etching it into his memory.

You both stand there for a moment, soaking in the adoration that seems to swirl around you. The Han River, mixed with the lights of the busking, and the love in the aire from the other couples, you feel it, all so immensely. Something has shifted. This isn’t just the start of something new - it’s the beginning of something deeply powerful. Something neither of you can quite put into words yet, but both of you feel it. It’s in the way he looks at you, in the way your lips just met, and in the way your hearts are already intertwining, bonding you to him for a lifetime.

Pulling himself away from the moment, Jongseong opens his eyes and grins down at you, kissing your forehead, desperate to keep his lips on you in some way. “Ready for the next one?”

“Oh, Absolutely.” Your answer is so self-assured and confident, there is no apprehension in your tone, only sheer enthusiasm to spend every waking minute with him.

Jongseong feels the same way, maybe even more than you. And he can’t wait for the day he gets to tell you how he fell in love with you in this moment.

_____

Laying in Jongseong’s bed, you slouch lazily against his headboard as you lose yourself in the words on your Kindle. The paragraphs of The Handmaiden grip you, pulling you into their twisted world, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you - a cocktail of disgust, hope, fear, and love. Love especially lingers on your mind, but little do you know that someone beside you is feeling that emotion just as intensely, perhaps even more, because the reason for his swirling heart is real and currently wearing his AC/DC t-shirt.

He stares at you engrossed in your book and for some strange, inexplicable reason, his chest feels tight and the pressure behind his eyes hurt, like he is a bottle of coke and there is a packet of Mentos just landing inside his soul.

"I fucking love you so much," Jongseong says suddenly, his voice soft yet undeniably passionate, carrying a depth that cuts through the silence of the room like a bolt of lightning. His body language or facial expression doesn’t change, in fact, the feeling has been inside of him for so long that speaking the words into fruition doesn’t change a thing about him. 

You freeze, the words on your screen blurring as your mind tries to process what you just heard.  Did he really say that? Maybe you misheard him. “What?” you ask, turning your head to face him, and once you see the sincerity in his face and the fire in his eyes, your heart begins to race, and your question is answered.

“I love you,” he repeats, more pointed this time so you know there is not even a wiggle of doubt, his eyes locked onto yours with a look so sincere it leaves you breathless. “More than my heart or my chest can hold in.” 

His confession takes you completely by surprise. It feels so sudden, so unexpected, that for a moment, you’re left speechless. You knew he cared deeply for you - his actions and gentle gestures have always spoken louder than words - but hearing it now, on a random Wednesday night, three months into your relationship, when you were just lounging in his bed, didn’t seem like his style at all. 

And you were right, Jongseong was always the one for grand gestures, for perfectly planned moments. He wanted to tell you over a candlelit dinner, complete with a big speech about all the reasons he fell for you, fighting the urge to tell you on your very first date. But he knew his feelings, he couldn’t deny them nor did he ever want to, however, maybe blurting out ‘I love you’ when he didn’t even know your favourite colour was a bit quick, so he decided to wait for the perfect moment, which he had guessed would be planned.

But there’s something so genuine about this moment - him saying it while you’re here, wearing his oversized t-shirt, your glasses perched on your nose, so absorbed in your book that you didn't even realise he was watching you. There’s no grand setup, no orchestrated plan - just pure, unfiltered feeling. Sometimes, you don’t need a big, fancy gesture; sometimes, the love is enough.

His hand reaches out to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His touch pulls you in, makes you forget about everything else except him and the love reflected in his eyes. Somehow, he looks even more beautiful than he did 10 minutes ago.

You place your Kindle to the side, giving him your full attention, and clasp his fingers with yours, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse under your touch. “You love me?” you whisper, almost as if saying it too loudly might shatter the magic of this moment.

“Of course I do,” he replies, his voice as easy as breathing, because that’s exactly what it feels like to him. Falling in love is supposed to be scary and daunting, placing your heart in the palms of someone who could break it with one wrongdoing is enough to put people off giving and receiving the emotion. But Jongseong? He would give you every part of his body for you to keep hold of - for you to own. You are everything he needs in life, the only person he would start a war for, he trusts you completely; he has never felt anything this strongly before. 

Your chest feels like it’s suddenly desperate to connect with his, to close the gap between you both and merge yourselves as one whole being. His words sink into you, filling spaces you didn’t even know were empty. 

With a shaky breath, you hold back a tiny sob, the aura in the room too overwhelming for your heart. But not overwhelming enough to stop you from saying how you feel. “I love you too, Jongseong,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly, but not with uncertainty - rather with the sheer intensity of the truth.

He looks at you, searching your face for any hint of doubt. It’s not that he doesn’t believe you, but it’s just the slight thread of insecurity in being so vulnerable with someone. "You mean it? You aren’t just saying it out of obligation? Because you do-”

You interrupt him, squeezing his hands tighter. “I mean it. More than anything else that has ever left my mouth. I love you.”

A Cheshire smile breaks across his face, bright and unrestrained. He grabs your face in a rush, his big hands enveloping your cheeks as he begins to pepper kisses all over your face - your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, every inch of skin he sees squished between his palms - until you’re giggling uncontrollably. 

“Jongseong!” you squeal, your laughter infectious, and thus he keeps going, pinning you down gently, his weight warm and secure over you, his lips finding every spot that makes you laugh even harder until your sides hurt. This is what love is supposed to feel like, childlike and free, just as you two always are.

You are in love. So incredibly in love.

When he finally stops, he rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I will love you until my dying breath, Y/N L/N,” he promises, his voice low and solemn. The serious current that accompanies the joy in his voice tells you all you need to know, instilling you with confidence that this man means every word and every emotion he is pouring into you.

A grin spreads across your lips, and you can’t help the heartfelt response that tumbles out: “I’ll love you until we’re food for the worms to eat.”

Your morbid but romantic description makes his heart thump, his expression turning even brighter. He laughs, a rich, melodic sound that fills the room, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you like you’re the only girl in the world. “Had to one-up me, huh?” he jokes.

“You know me, always one step extra,” you tease, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt.

The kiss starts slow, tender - a soft press of lips that speaks of newfound confessions and the quiet promise of forever. His lips are warm, moving gently against yours, and you can feel the way his breath hitches like he’s savouring every second, every little brush of skin against skin. Your hands find their way into his hair, tugging slightly, eliciting a low, rumbling groan from deep within his chest.

The kiss turns heated, a spark catching flame as his hands slide down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. He slots his body between your legs, his hips situated on yours as his member hilts against you. Your legs spread wider to let him fully lay on top of you, your boyfriend’s heart kissing your own with each beat.

His lips part, deepening the kiss, and you respond in kind, matching his intensity. The world around you blurs; all you can feel is the heat of his body against yours, the way his lips mould perfectly with yours, and the electric current that courses through you with every touch, every breath. 

Jongseong’s hand grips your hip, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver, and his lips move with a hunger that matches the rapid beat of your heart. He’s pouring everything into this kiss - all his love, his need, his promise - until you’re both breathless and burning with a desire that you never want to end.

The kiss breaks for just a moment, enough for both of you to catch your breath and him to discard your t-shirt, but Jongseong’s lips don’t leave your skin for long. His forehead rests against yours, and the two of you share a lingering moment of closeness, eyes locked, hearts pounding in sync. There’s an unspoken understanding between you, a shared desire that flows in the charged air between you.

With a soft, almost reverent touch, Jongseong begins trailing kisses along your jawline, slow and deliberate, as though he’s memorizing every inch of your skin with his lips. Each kiss is a whisper of warmth, igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through your body. You tilt your head back, giving him access, and he doesn’t waste a second. His mouth continues its descent, moving down to your neck where he plants open-mouthed kisses, his tongue brushing lightly against your pulse point, causing a shudder to run through you.

His hands, warm and steady, explore the curves of your body as he works his way lower, lips grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone. He lingers there for a heartbeat, nipping gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. Your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on, and he responds with a low growl that reverberates against your skin, sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

Jongseong shifts, his lips now trailing down to the valley between your breasts, each kiss more purposeful, more heated than the last. His breath is hot, his touch sure, and every movement, every press of his lips, leaves you aching for more. You arch your back, pushing yourself into him, craving the sensation of his mouth on your body.

As he continues his descent, kissing lower and lower, until he is at the band of your panties, his breath fans across your skin, and the anticipation builds with every second, every soft press of his lips against you.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he murmurs between kisses, his voice thick with adoration.

You giggle, hiding your face at the chanting confession. You can’t believe a man so perfect is in love with you. Gently, you run your fingers through his hair and pout down at him, “I love you, too.”

The words brush down your torso and into Jongseong’s ears, eliciting a smile from him. That is all he has wanted to hear, from the moment he met you. He knows love like this is precious, and he never intends to waste it.

Carefully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and pull them down, your legs instinctively opening, showcasing your bare, glistening pussy for your boyfriend to see. It’s delicious, succulent, and all entirely for him to devour.

"So fucking pretty," he whispers, sending chills down your spine. The room feels hotter as he settles between your legs, tongue poking through his lips oh so teasingly to wet them, your clit weaping for attention. He does this to you a lot, makes your body react in ways it never has before, even after your first date you felt your panties soaking more and more to the point you dragged him into your dorm room and fucked him. 

Was it a smart idea to fuck a man on the first date? Not usually, but you knew from that day that you were willing to spend the rest of your life with him so, what was the harm in some fun?

Kissing your clit, Jongseong looks up to watch you as he always does, loving the way your face conveys the pleasure you feel. Even the simplest of touches has you under his mercy. As he begins to lap at your core with his tongue, you can't help but clutch his hair, your fingers tangled in the strands as you grind into his face. Your back lifts from the bed as you seek even more pleasure.

Overcome with how you taste, he doesn’t even register your fingers in his hair, pulling at it harshly when he circles your clit with his tongue. You’re so wet as he slurps you up but there’s so much it’s dripping onto his chin. It serves as motivation to keep going, to pleasure you as much as possible, to show you how much he wants to devour you, both body and soul.

Jongseong doesn’t get pussy drunk with girls, but he does with you. Addicted to the taste and smell of you, he just wants to rub himself all over you, covering himself in your slick as if to scent him, like you’re both wolves in some ABO universe.

“Don’t stop, Jongseong,” you groan out, the backs of your feet digging into his back as you pin him down as best you can, signalling to him your need for more. 

Smirking at your desperation, Jongseong’s tongue runs itself along your entrance and it makes you buckle, pushing his head in further. He continues his effort, making you a panting mess. His tongue was a gift from God and you’ll need to thank the big man later when you meet him for blessing you with a sex-god boyfriend.

A sex-god boyfriend who is in love with you.

Dipping his tongue in a few times helps him gauge how tight you are, seeing how much prep he needs to give you before he can fuck his love into you. As if reading his lewd thoughts, he feels your pussy squeezing, his tongue taking advantage and swirling around to hit more circumference of your walls. 

“I can’t wait to be inside of you, baby. To show you how much i really love you.”

It’s funny that he thinks sex would showcase his love any more than his eyes and heart already do. You know he loves you, you might have been shocked at how abruptly he said it tonight, but you’ve always known. It’s in the way he kisses you, how he cooks dinner for you even after long days, and it’s in how he would give up anything to see you happy.

Your clit is suddenly being simulated by his nose, it poking at it slightly the more bountiful he inserts his tongue. It feels otherworldly, “Jongseong, s’good, so good, fuck,” Your fingers harshly massage his scalp as you wiggle, close to cumming.

He knows it too, you’re dripping so much it’s leaking over half of his face. It’s so fucking hot how you’re a mess like this, just for him, only for him. Jongseong switches his tactics, lips now encircled around your clit and sucking harshly on it, the new sensation causing you to cry out, a new wave of your juices dripping down his chin and onto his bedsheets 

And just a few seconds later, you’re coming undone. 

Jongseong, ever pleased with himself, cleans you up with his tongue, sucking up the slick that’s flowing form your hole and drinking it greedily. You taste so good he could spend hours down here. But unfortunately, and selfishly, he needs to fuck you. Right here, right now.

Wiping your essence from his mouth, Jongseong crawls up over your body, placing gentle kisses up your torso, past your heaving chest, and back to your lips. He stares at you with something deep in his iris’, a promise that he will always make you feel this inspired, this gleeful, and never cause you any harm. 

When you’re so in love with someone, all the emotions come with it. And while you both encompass the very being of adoration and love, sometimes that red that represented your passion for one another, turned into a shade none of you liked.

_____

Your heels slam against the tiled floor of the hallway as you march through the dimly lit corridor of your apartment building, the sound echoing like the beating of a war drum. Every step sends a jolt through your aching feet, but the pain is nothing compared to the simmering rage boiling in your veins. You fumble for your keys, hands trembling with a mix of exhaustion and fury, the metallic clinking of the keyring mocking your every failed attempt. When you finally manage to fit the key into the lock, it sticks, just like it always does. You curse under your breath - a small, infuriating reminder of the list of things that should have been fixed, but like so many other things lately, were neglected.

You give the door a sharp push, the old wood groaning in protest as it swings open, the gust of night air brushing over your flushed skin, cooling the anger that’s blazing just beneath the surface. Without thinking, you slam it shut behind you, the force sending a jolt through your arm as the door rebounds off something - or rather, someone. Your boyfriend. The door collides with his face, eliciting a pained grunt as he catches it just in time to prevent further damage.

“Really, Y/N?” he groans, rubbing his jaw where the door had made contact. His voice is strained, more exasperated than angry, but it only fuels the fire burning inside you.

You toss your clutch onto the nearby table with a careless flick of your wrist, the sharp clatter slicing through the tense silence. Kicking off your shoes with more force than necessary, you whirl around to face him, your vision clouded by a searing flash of red-hot anger. You know you should apologise, at least for the door, but the apology sticks in your throat, smothered by the bitterness that’s bubbling up like a storm ready to burst.

Raking your fingers through your hair, you grip tightly at the roots, desperate to hold onto something, anything, to stop yourself from unravelling completely. “I don’t even want to look at you right now,” you spit, voice thick with venom, every word dripping with the weight of betrayal. Your expression twists into one of pure disgust as if just the sight of him is enough to set you off all over again.

You spin on your heel, determined to escape, but before you can make it to the sanctuary of your bedroom, you feel his gentle grip on your elbow. It’s a light touch, but it might as well be ironclad, and despite every fibre of your being screaming to pull away, you find yourself turning back to him, drawn by a force you can’t quite resist. You wish you could fight it - fight him, fight this magnetic pull that always seems to reel you back in - but your heart, traitorous as it is, weakens at his touch.

His eyes are steady, calm even, but the way his jaw tenses betrays the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior. You can see the flicker of frustration in the tightness of his clenched teeth, but it’s not directed at you; it’s aimed at the mess that’s wedged its way between the two of you, threatening to tear apart everything you’ve built together. He’s not angry with you, not even a little, but you can see the weariness in his gaze - the weight of a thousand unspoken words hanging between you like a fog.

“Too bad, because I don’t care if you don’t want to see me. We’re talking this out right now,” he says, his voice low but firm. He is not letting you stew in this mess, he hates the way your brain works, how it overthinks for hours, creating a mountain out of a molehill when he knows that one simple conversation can solve all problems.

He does fear that this might not be solved with a quick debate and kiss. This is going to take more than that.

You yank your arm away, swallowing the painful lump forming in your throat as you catch the brief flash of hurt in his eyes, like a knife twisting deeper. “Oh, sorry,” you snap, sarcasm dripping from your words, the sound bitter in your mouth. “What would you like to discuss first? The fact that you embarrassed me in front of my entire family and ruined my sister’s engagement party, or the fact that you punched my dad?”

Each word leaves your lips like a punch, each accusation sharper than the last. You watch as his calm exterior fractures, his eyes flickering with a cocktail of regret, anger, and something you can't quite place. The room feels like it’s closing in, the air heavy with the weight of things said and unsaid, as the silence between you sharpens, poised to snap at any moment.

Jongseong flinches, his expression flickering for a moment, the crack in his composure barely visible but unmistakable to you. He’s always been so unshakable, so infuriatingly composed during moments like this, and for a split second, you see the vulnerability beneath the mask - the guilt, the pain, the anger at himself. But he quickly steels himself, his gaze locking onto yours with a resolve that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You think I wanted that to happen?” he shoots back, his voice low and rough, trembling slightly with the effort of keeping it steady. His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, as if searching for some kind of understanding in the sea of your fury. “You think I planned to lose it like that? That I wanted to make a scene in front of your whole family?”

His words hang heavy in the air, every syllable a plea for you to see him, to see the mess of emotions churning inside him, but all you can feel is the sting of humiliation, the sharp edge of betrayal slicing through your chest. 

The scene replays in your mind like a broken film reel, each frame more painful than the last. Your father’s slurred words, the way Jongseong’s posture stiffened, the moment things spiralled from heated words to fists flying. You remember the sickening thud of your father hitting the ground, the horrified gasps, and the wave of whispers that rippled through the room. Your heart had dropped to the floor along with him, and in that split second, everything had shattered - your sister’s engagement, your mother’s fragile composure, and the image you’d built of the man you loved. You can still hear the murmurs, each one laced with judgment, each one a knife twisting deeper.

Your dad has always been a kind man at heart, but the bottle changes him into someone unrecognisable, a man who lets the worst parts of himself spill out. You remember the nights as a child, hiding in your room while your parents fought, your mother’s angry voice telling him to sober up or get out, how he would vomit over the living room floor and have no recollection of it in the morning. It’s those memories - the helplessness, the fear, the shame - that have kept you from ever picking up a drink. 

You vowed never to touch the stuff, never to let alcohol turn you into someone altered, and Jongseong understood that about you from the start after you trusted him with your memories. He made the promise to you that night, quitting the moment you told him how much it meant to you, swearing he would never touch another drop again. You didn’t ask him too, he simply did it because that’s how much he loves you.

You step back, folding your arms across your chest, a protective barrier against the storm brewing between you. “You punched my dad, Jongseong!” you shout, your voice cracking under the strain of holding back tears. “You humiliated me in front of everyone. My mom was crying, my sister - God, do you even know what you did to her tonight? It was supposed to be her moment, and you ruined it!”

He steps forward, reaching out as if to touch you, to comfort you, but you take another step back, the distance between you widening. The urge to let him hold you, to fall into his arms and let the weight of tonight melt away is so strong it hurts, but you can’t. Not yet. Not when everything is still so raw, so jagged.

Jongseong breathes out and calms himself, “Listen to me,” he steps forward once again and he’s relieved that you don’t move. “I should not have acted like that, and that is what I am sorry for. But I will not let a man who has caused you so much pain talk about you like you are less than what you are. As long as my heart is beating, even when it stops, I will protect you from anything and anyone. I do not care if it’s family, or a stranger, or even yourself. You mean more to me than any other person on this planet and if I think for a second your heart is in danger, I am willing to do anything to protect it.”

His words hang in the air, raw and intense, vibrating with a passion that cuts through the tension like a blade. His gaze is locked onto yours, unwavering, filled with a fierce, almost desperate determination that pulls at something deep inside you. He’s closer now, just a step away, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with the cold ache of your own heartbreak. For a moment, all the noise in your head quiets, leaving only the thundering rhythm of your own heartbeat and the weight of his promise.

The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as the intensity of the moment settles around you. You’re torn between the anger that still simmers beneath your skin and the undeniable pull toward him, the man who’s both your solace and, tonight, your greatest source of pain. Jongseong’s words are like a salve, and though they don’t erase what happened, they start to soothe the jagged edges of your hurt. You can see the fear in his eyes - fear of losing you, of becoming the person you’ve always dreaded. There’s a vulnerability in him now, raw and unguarded, and it stirs something soft within you.

You take a deep breath, letting the tension drain from your shoulders, just a little. Your grip on the anger loosens, and the tight knot in your chest begins to unfurl, replaced by a slow, tentative warmth. Your fingers twitch, wanting to reach out, but you keep them at your sides, not quite ready for the full embrace of forgiveness but open to something gentler, something that feels like understanding.

“Jongseong,” you start, your voice quieter now, less a weapon and more a tentative bridge. “I know you meant well. I know you were trying to stand up for me. But you have to understand… that’s not what I need. I don’t need you to fight for me like that. I don’t need you to get angry on my behalf. I just need you to be here, to help me feel safe. Not like…” You trail off, your eyes dropping to the floor as you fight to find the words. “Not like this. We’ve been together for 5 years now, I told you my dad has his moments like this and as a family, we all chose to stick by him and support him, for mum’s sake. He is trying and sometimes he slips. Punching him and lashing out because he said some stupid shit he won’t remember in the morning isn’t the answer, it’s not what I want from you.”

Jongseong’s expression softens, the fierce determination in his eyes giving way to something deeper, more regretful. Honestly, he hates that you’re all so kind to a man who has caused you grief and misery your entire life, but you, your mum, and your sister are the kindest souls in the universe, it’s in your nature to see the good in people. Jongseong wishes your dad saw you all that way too, rather than taking advantage of the chances you give him.

He steps closer, his hand finally making contact with your skin and you instantly calm, the weight of his palm on your cheek grounding you. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he repeats, his voice breaking slightly, carrying the weight of his remorse. “I know what I did was stupid. I still don’t regret it,” he admits, his honesty ringing clear despite the regret in his tone. “I’d fight anyone who tried to hurt you, physically or emotionally. That’s how much you mean to me.”

You look up at him, the tears you’d been holding back now spilling freely. His confession doesn’t erase the pain, but it does offer a window into his heart - a heart that, despite its flaws and mistakes, beats fiercely in your defence. You can see the struggle in his eyes, the conflict between his protective instincts and the reality of his actions.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice quiet but unwavering. “I know you’d do anything to protect me. But if we’re going to be a family - when we get married - you’ll be part of all this. You have to understand that. You have to respect my mum and dad’s needs.” Your words are a bridge between your love for him and your love for your family. “If you can’t do that, then I can’t let you be a part of their lives. I need you to know that.”

Your voice trembles slightly at the weight of what you’re saying, and the look in Jongseong’s eyes shifts. He doesn’t speak right away, but his silence is filled with understanding. You can see your words land like stones in his chest, the gravity of your family’s importance settling in. He knows how much they mean to you, and the unspoken warning lingers: if he messes this up again, there’s no way forward. The very thought of a future without you sends a ripple of fear through him. He’s never imagined that possibility because, to him, there is no option. He won’t let it happen.

His stomach churns at the idea of losing you, but his hope brightens as you say ‘when we get married’ rather than ‘if’. “I’ll do better, Y/N. I promise, I’ll support you in whatever way you need me to.” His shoulders drop slightly as if conceding to the truth you’ve laid bare between you. “You’re strong. I should’ve known that, and I’m sorry for not trusting that strength.” His remorse is palpable, and you can feel the weight lifting slightly from your chest, the anger and hurt that had clouded your mind beginning to dissipate.

The room seems to settle, the tension slowly dissolving into something calmer, something more manageable. You look up at the man you love, really look at him, and see how much he truly cares - how deeply he regrets what happened, not just for you, but for everyone. His eyes are sincere, remorse shining in their depths, and for the first time since the night began to spiral, you feel a sense of peace.

You exhale, your own apology forming on your lips as the fog of anger clears from your brain. “I’m sorry too. For lashing out, for hitting you with the door…it was childish. I shouldn’t have acted like that.” A flush of embarrassment heats your face, the shame of your actions making you feel small.

Jongseong reaches up to rub his jaw, faking a wince, and thankfully, the playful gesture lightens the air between you. “Nothing a kiss can’t sort out,” he teases, his lips quirking into a small, pouting smile, trying to bring a bit of levity to the conversation.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Let’s just make sure we don’t cause a fiasco at any more engagement parties, okay?”

Jongseong chuckles slightly, his grin widening as he tilts his head. “What if it’s at ours? Do I get groom rights to cause chaos then?”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you play along. “Well, you’d have to propose first for me even to consider that.”

Jongseong’s eyes twinkle with mischief and that same love that has always projected through from his soul as he leans in, lowering his voice to a playful whisper. “Just you wait, baby.”

_____

The heavy wooden doors of the chapel creak open, and Jongseong straightens his suit jacket, his fingers smoothing over the fabric of the black suit you had so carefully picked out for him. It’s tailored to perfection, hugging his broad shoulders and tapering down to a sleek fit at his waist. The crisp white shirt underneath feels a little too tight around his collar, not because of the fit, but because of the sheer enormity of the day. He inhales deeply, gathering all the breath he knows he’ll lose the second he begins his walk down the aisle.

At 34 years old, he’s finally getting married, and it still feels surreal. Even this morning, as he stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting his tie, it all felt more nerve-wracking than he could have imagined. His hands trembled slightly, not with doubt but with anticipation. It isn’t cold feet - far from it. Marrying you is the most certain thing he’s ever felt. In fact, the only thing weighing on his chest isn’t whether or not he’s making the right choice - it’s the fact that, for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re not by his side.

Last night, the night before your wedding, was the longest you’ve spent apart in years. You’d stayed with your sister, following the superstition that the bride and groom shouldn’t see each other before the ceremony, and while it seemed trivial at first, Jongseong missed you more deeply than he ever thought possible. Since that party so many years ago, he’s spent every moment he could by your side, and now, after sharing a home, building a life together, the thought of you not being there in his bed last night left an ache he hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t the marriage that was causing him anxiety. He couldn’t wait to marry you—to say the vows, to see you in your wedding dress, to call you his wife. No, what had his stomach in knots was the thought of walking down the aisle with all eyes on him. The idea of being the centre of attention, of every gaze following his every move, from the ball of his foot to the tip of his toes, made his skin crawl. Even as a kid, Jongseong hated being the focus of a room. 

You’d always been the one to handle social situations with grace, navigating crowds, talking to guests, and subtly keeping the two of you out of the spotlight when he needed it. God, he wished you were here right now to hold his hand and whisper something to ease his nerves.

But of course, you weren’t. Tradition had stolen you away from him this morning, and now, he had to face this moment alone. The chapel, though filled with friends and family, felt overwhelmingly empty without you by his side. His heart pounded harder in his chest as the reality of the moment hit him.

Suddenly, the soft notes of music swelled from the organ, pulling him from his thoughts. It was the cue the wedding planner had told him about, the signal that it was time for him to make his way down the aisle. He stood still for a moment, nodding to himself as he acknowledged what lay ahead. The attention, the eyes on him, the anxious fluttering in his chest - it would all be worth it the second he saw you at the other end of the aisle.

With a deep breath, he steps forward. His polished black shoes make a quiet click against the stone floor of the chapel, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. Jongseong’s gaze flickers up briefly, catching sight of familiar faces in the pews. His mother, sitting proudly near the front, offers him a warm, reassuring smile. He tries to return it, but it feels stiff, nerves still crawling beneath his skin. His father gives him a subtle nod of encouragement, and Jongseong straightens his back, feeling the weight of their support behind him.

As he continues to walk, the scent of lilies and roses, the same ones you picked out together for the ceremony, fills the air. Sunlight streams in through the stained-glass windows, casting vibrant colours across the chapel floor - deep reds, purples, and golds dancing around his feet like blessings from above. He hears the faint rustle of fabric as guests turn their heads to watch him, but he keeps his eyes forward, focusing on the path ahead.

His palms are sweaty, and his pulse quickens with each step. The aisle feels impossibly long, like a steep hill with a drinking fountain waiting at the top. The rows of guests stretch on and on. Jongseong fights the urge to tug at his collar, to loosen the tie just a bit, but he knows it won’t help. Nothing can calm the storm inside him except you.

But as he nears the front, something shifts. The nervousness, the anxiety of being under watchful eyes, begins to ebb away, replaced by something else. Anticipation. Because just after this walk, after these few moments of discomfort, comes you. The love of his life. His future.

He greets your family with fondness and love as he reaches the end. Each one has become integral to his life, the definition of his second family. Jongseong's smile softens as he approaches them and offering a slight bow in respect. 

His future mother-in-law is sitting to the side, her eyes filled with warmth. Her hands are clasped tightly in her lap, fingers intertwined, though her expression is calm and composed. She has always been a strong presence in your life, and he feels the same quiet strength radiating from her now. She nods to him, her lips curving into a gentle smile that puts him a little more at ease. There’s a silent understanding between them - one forged through shared moments, family dinners, and heart-to-heart talks that had transformed Jongseong from a visitor into a son.

Standing next to your other bridesmaids is your sister, fidgeting slightly with the lace of her dress, her excitement palpable as the number one supporter in this relationship. She beams up at him, her eyes twinkling. She’s always been the one to bring lightness into any room, to ease tension with a well-timed joke or a teasing comment, and seeing her now, vibrant and full of life, reminds him of all the times she’d teased him for being so nervous about today. Her laughter and encouragement had helped him through many anxious moments, and her unspoken support right now is a comfort he hadn’t realised he needed.

They are his family now, just as much as his own parents sitting a few rows behind, and knowing that fills him with a sense of belonging.

Jongseong takes his position at the altar, trying to shake off the nervous tension building inside him. His friend Sunghoon is already there, waiting with a grin that’s equal parts mischief and pride. Sunghoon, who had been there for every milestone in his relationship, claps him on the back. It's surreal for both of them; after all, it was Sunghoon who dragged Jongseong to that dreadful party where you first met. Sunghoon had refused to let Jongseong skip it, even though Jongseong had dramatically declared he’d rather run naked through a field of nettles than attend. Now, Sunghoon stands by his side, proud of the role he played in bringing you both together and wearing the title of groomsman like a badge of honour.

"You look like you're about to get married," Sunghoon teases, laughter dancing in his voice. From where he stands, Sunghoon sees his best friend transformed. Jongseong’s usual cool demeanour is present, but there’s a deeper layer today - one of anticipation and raw emotion. His usually steady hands are clenched slightly, his jaw a little tighter than usual. Sunghoon notices all these small signs, but underneath them, he can see that Jongseong is just waiting to call you his wife, the need to call you Mrs. Park is what’s making him shake.

"Yeah? Too overdressed?" Jongseong jokes, trying to mask the nerves that refuse to leave him completely.

"Just a little," Sunghoon nudges him playfully. His smile fades into something more sincere. "You ready?"

Jongseong takes a deep breath before responding, his voice quiet but confident. "I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready in my life." He ignores the whispers and murmurs from the crowd, sounds he can't quite decipher. Will they be bad? Probably not, but that doesn’t stop his brain from trying to twist them into something else. What if they all think you’re settling? Still, he pushes it all aside, focusing on the one thing that matters: you.

He is so excited to see you. You had kept everything a secret - your dress, your hair, even down to your nails. He had tried every trick in the book to get even the smallest detail out of you, from sweet persuasion to playful pestering. He’d casually ask while you were busy with wedding plans or playfully guess what colour you might be wearing, trying to gauge your reaction. Each time, though, you would just smile coyly and shake your head, refusing to give anything away. Jongseong had groaned in mock frustration, but deep down, he knew it would be worth the wait. He was absolutely certain you’d look breathtaking, no matter what. You always look like the most beautiful person in the world, like the earth around you, only blooms to keep up with your beauty.

Sunghoon grins, breaking Jongseong’s thoughts. "I saw her earlier, y'know. Tried to talk her out of making a massive mistake." His tone is light, there’s no mistaking the fondness in his eyes. Sunghoon had actually visited you before the ceremony, not to convince you of anything, but to tell you how happy he was that you had come into Jongseong’s life. He had joked that he wanted a child named after him, but beneath the teasing, he was sincere. He told you how lucky he felt to witness true love up close, to see two people so in sync that it was like watching a real-life fairytale.

For Sunghoon, it was like one of the bedtime stories he read to his daughter, tales of love that transcended everything else. Sometimes, when he read those stories, his mind would drift to you and Jongseong, imagining the two of you as the characters destined for each other. Even his wife is amazed by the connection you share - two people who fit together so effortlessly that it was hard to believe. Sunghoon and his wife love one another so much, but they can recognise that you and Jongseong’s love is once in a lifetime, and they learn so much from you.

"Yeah? How did she look?" Jongseong asks, his voice tinged with hope. "Nervous? Cold feet? She’s definitely coming, right?"

Sunghoon throws his head back, laughing loudly, the sound echoing through the quiet church, eliciting some confusion on the faces of the guests. "She looks way out of your league, but no, she’s not nervous. She’s ready. In fact, she told me to let you know that you should cry when you see her. If you don’t, she’s marrying Jake instead."

Right on cue, Jake, the other groomsman, pops his head over Sunghoon’s shoulder with a wide grin. "And I will marry her in a minute, so you better get those waterworks going."

Jongseong can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all. But he knows you’re serious about the tears. Your man is not one for crying, he rarely feels the need for tears, but he has a sneaking suspicion you’re going to get your wish.

The music starts, and Jongseong stiffens, his heart slamming against his ribs as if it’s trying to escape his chest and rush down the aisle to meet you. It’s only been a night since he last saw you, but to him, it feels like an eternity. The shared bed had felt too big, too cold without you beside him, and in that quiet space, he realized just how much you completed him. He missed you, and though it might seem dramatic, the longing reminded him that this wasn’t just about nerves. It was about the indescribable excitement of committing himself to you, completely and forever.

He had wanted to do this years ago, perhaps two years into your relationship rather than waiting twelve. But you had been the practical one, insisting that you both build your careers, settle into life without the added pressure of a wedding. He hadn’t minded too much; after all, what was a few more years when you had forever to spend together?

As the soft strains of music fill the chapel, Jongseong freezes. It’s an original piece - the one he had composed for you way back in the beginning of your relationship. The ballad, a quiet testament to the love he held for you even then, was something he’d never expected to hear today. Each note flows seamlessly into the next, blending together like the way his love for you has always been: fluid, effortless, natural. 

For him, loving you has never been complicated. It’s as though the melody was written not just with the keys of the piano, but with the strings of his heart. The tears, which you had so eagerly asked for, begin to gather at the corners of his eyes.

Then he sees you.

You appear at the end of the aisle, and his breath catches. Words escape him because they’re not enough to describe how radiant you are. The light from the stained-glass windows dances across your white gown, making you look as if you’re wrapped in sunlight itself. The lace of your dress hugs your figure delicately, each intricate detail shimmering as if woven from the stars. Your veil, soft as gossamer, floats behind you, catching the gentle breeze that filters through the open chapel doors. Your eyes, bright and full of love, meet his, and in that moment, Jongseong knows - if ever there was perfection, it is you.

Your beauty is beyond anything he could have imagined, like a dream come to life. You are the embodiment of every love song, every poem, every whispered promise. As you walk toward him, it feels like time slows, like the world pauses to let him savour every second, every step. You are grace personified, and all he can think is how lucky he is that this is real, that you are his.

Beside you, your father walks proudly with his arm linked through yours. His face shines with pride, his entire being glowing with joy. Jongseong feels a surge of pride for him as well. Their relationship had a rocky start, but now, four years into his sobriety, your father has become someone Jongseong admires deeply. 

The way you and your family never gave up on him taught Jongseong valuable lessons in patience, compassion, and what it means to truly love someone through their struggles. Watching your father today, standing tall and proud, Jongseong knows that all the hardships were worth it. He understands now that loving someone through their demons isn’t easy, but it’s something only the most special people can do - and you are one of those people. You have made Jongseong a better man, and he is and always will be eternally grateful for that.

When you and your father finally reach the end of the aisle, Jongseong’s breath hitches as he sees you up close for the first time. He’s lost for words, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. The tears that had gathered in his eyes finally spill over as he gazes at you. Your smile is so bright, most likely happy at his reaction, and he suddenly feels like his heart is trying to burst through his chest just to meld with your own; he is so privileged you hold his heart this way.

“You look…” he starts, but the words catch in his throat.

“Like I’m ready to be your wife?” you finish with a teasing smile, your voice warm and steady.

Jongseong shakes his head, his voice cracking with emotion. “Like my everything.” 

The way he says this, so pure and genuine, your smile falters just ever so slightly, your face now wanting to express an earnest love, the kind of expression you only look at the love of your life with.

Your father, watching the exchange, beams with satisfaction. There’s a tenderness in his expression as he shakes Jongseong’s hand, pulling him into a firm embrace. “I know you’ll look after one another,” your father whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so proud to call you my son.”

The words settle deep within Jongseong’s heart, and when your father steps back to take his seat, the ceremony begins.

As the officiant begins speaking, his voice soft but clear, Jongseong can’t help but marvel at how your hand fits so perfectly in his, your fingers warm and familiar, yet somehow new, in this moment. Every word that spills from the officiant’s lips feels like background noise; all Jongseong can focus on is you. The way you stand before him, radiating beauty and calm, is enough to make his heart swell to the point of aching. You squeeze his hand softly, pulling him back to the present. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in response, a silent message of reassurance, of love. It feels as if the two of you are existing in your own world, tethered together by this secret moment amid the hum of the ceremony.

Even in a room full of people, he will always only see you.

He glances at your face, catching a fleeting look of emotion dancing in your eyes, and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms right there. You’re holding it together so well, but he knows you too well. The slight tension in your grip, the way your breath catches every now and then - it all betrays the storm of emotion beneath the surface. And it matches his own.

When the officiant calls for the vows, Jongseong inhales sharply. This is the part he’s been waiting for, and yet, the part that terrifies him the most. Not because he’s unsure, but because there’s so much to say, so much love to express, and he hopes he can convey it all with the right words.

He turns to face you, both of your hands now clasped together. He can feel the slight tremble in your fingers, mirroring the nervous excitement coursing through his own veins. The vows - this is where he gets to tell you, in front of everyone you both love, just how much you mean to him. But even as he opens his mouth, his heart beats in time with yours, each pulse echoing a silent promise of forever.

Clearing his throat, he pulls the paper from his suit pocket, calming himself.

“Y/N. I should start by saying how in love I am with you. I think it’s pretty obvious, I don’t think my heart is even mine anymore with the way you hold it. I remember the first time I ever saw you, so bored and begging to be saved from that god awful party. But it’s funny if you think about it because I didn’t save you from anything at all, you saved me - in more ways than I could ever thank you for.

You are my heart, soul, courage, fear, wonder, and love. I am you and you are me. ‘Love is a condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.’ I remember hearing that quote and never fully knowing what it meant. But since we are two people sewn together with the thread of fate, I began to understand that for me to be happy, to live in this world without regret or misery, I need to make sure I love you with every fibre of my being, to make sure you’re happy, safe, and cherished until the very end.

So today, my love, I vow to love you exactly as you are. I vow to protect you, not just from the world, but from any doubts or fears that ever try to steal your light. I vow to be the one who stands by your side when life feels too heavy, to hold you when you need comfort, and to celebrate with you when life brings you joy. I promise to love you on the days when life feels effortless, but more importantly, I vow to love you even harder on the days when it’s not.

I promise to cherish the smallest moments, the quiet mornings and the late-night talks, the laughter and even the silences that only we understand. You have made me a better man, and every day with you feels like a gift I don’t deserve, but one I will never take for granted.

I vow to never let a day go by without reminding you just how much you mean to me. To wake up every morning and choose you, choose us, over and over again. I vow to be your protector, your partner, your best friend, and your greatest supporter. Whatever life brings our way - whether it’s joy or challenges - I will be there, by your side, holding your hand through it all.

And above all, I vow to love you endlessly, fiercely, and without reservation, because you are my heart’s home, and there is nowhere else I would rather be.

Today, tomorrow, and every day after, I am yours. Forever.”

As Jongseong finishes his vows, his voice steady yet laced with emotion, you feel tears slip down your cheek. Despite your best efforts to stay composed, the overwhelming love in his words makes it impossible to hold back. You mourn the people in the pews who don’t get to experience Jongseong’s love because it is unfiltered and pure, the love people dream of and never have. He watches you closely, his eyes softening the moment he notices your tears.

Without missing a beat, Jongseong reaches up, gently brushing away the tear with the pad of his thumb, his touch as tender as his words. His fingers linger for a moment, his smile growing fond and warm as if he’s silently telling you that it’s okay, that he’s here, and that he understands how deeply his words have touched you.

Jongseong leans in just slightly, close enough for you to hear him whisper, "Maybe I should have vowed to never make you cry." His playful tone does little to hide the way his own eyes glisten, the deep emotions brimming just below the surface. 

Your lips tremble into a small smile through your tears, feeling both overwhelmed and reassured by the way he’s looking at you - as though you are the most precious thing in his world. And in that moment, you realise, you don’t have to hold anything back. You’re standing here, with the man who will cherish you for the rest of his life, and there is no need for composure, no need to hide the tears or the love that pours from you so naturally.

The officiant gives a gentle nod, signalling it’s time for your vows, but Jongseong keeps his gaze on you, his hand still cradling your cheek as if to give you strength. His smile never falters, and in his eyes, you see nothing but encouragement, affection, and a quiet promise that he will be right here, every step of the way.

You take a deep breath, your fingers trembling slightly as you hold your vows, and the room quiets in anticipation. You glance at Jongseong, your heart swelling as you realize you’re about to marry the love of your life, the man who has been your everything for so long.

“I kinda wish I went first now,” you laugh softly, stepping back to wipe your tears, earning a round of laughter from the guests. Even Jongseong chuckles, his eyes full of warmth, and the pressure lifts just a little as you prepare to speak from the heart.

“I really can’t believe I’m standing here today, two seconds away from becoming Mrs. Park. Though, let’s be real - I’m never going to be the best Mrs. Park. That title is clearly reserved for your mum,” you say with a playful smile, looking over at Jongseong’s mother. She places a hand on her heart, her eyes shining with affection, and nods back at you.

“Jongseong, standing here before you feels like a dream I’ve had my entire life. It feels like everything in the universe has led me to this moment, to you. You are my heart, my home, and the one person who makes the world feel safe and beautiful just by being in it.

People think a soulmate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soulmate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. And you have changed my life Jongseong, so beautifully so. I am more confident, resilient, and passionate about my life because I have you beside me. 

There is so much love inside my body that is only reserved for you. Love is the reason we all continue to live, even through tragedies and heartbreak, we seek love in all of those moments because it’s worth living for. Jongseong, you make life worth living.

I vow to honor you with every beat of my heart, to cherish you with every breath I take. I promise to stand by you in every season, to be your unwavering support when the world feels heavy, and your biggest cheerleader when you need encouragement. I will hold your hand through the trials and celebrate with you in the triumphs, always knowing that together, we can face anything.

I vow to love you as deeply as the ocean, to be your steadfast anchor when the waves of life try to pull us apart. I promise to nurture our dreams, to build a life filled with wonder and discovery, and to always remember the simple, profound joy of being together.

You have taught me that love is not just a feeling, but a practice - one that grows and deepens every day. It is in the way we laugh together, the way we support each other’s dreams and the quiet moments when we simply hold each other close. I promise to practise this love with you, to make it a living, breathing part of our lives, one that we can carry into the afterlife and know that even if our bodies are apart through death, our hearts are always linked.

I want to be a wife who deserves you, one who never takes you for granted and gives you back tenfold the love you have for me, and God knows your love is vaster than anything else in this world. You are my heart’s truest song, and I vow to be the harmony to your melody, the gentle refrain that sings of our forever. I promise to be patient, to listen, to understand, and to always come back to you with an open heart.

Jongseong, today and every day, I choose you, not just as my partner but as my greatest adventure, my greatest joy, and my deepest love. Together, we will write a story that is uniquely ours, filled with love, laughter, and a bond that only grows stronger with time. You are my most cherished muse, wholly and completely.”

As you finish your vows, your voice quivers with emotion, and the room seems to collectively hold its breath. Jongseong’s eyes glisten with tears of joy and admiration as he kisses your forehead, his touch is tender and reassuring, and he smiles at you with a look of pure, unadulterated love. The room sighs with appreciation, moved by the heartfelt exchange.

The officiant, his own eyes misty with the beauty of the moment, clears his throat to address the couple. “Having heard these vows of unwavering love and commitment, it is now time for us to proceed with the ring exchange.”

Jongseong and you gaze deeply into one anothers eyes, the ceremony reaching its most poignant moment. The officiant gestures to Sunghoon, who steps forward, holding the rings with great reverence. With a knowing smile, he hands the rings to Jongseong, who looks at them with a sense of awe. This is it. 

“Jongseong,” the officiant prompts, “please place the ring on Y/N’s finger and repeat after me.”

Jongseong’s voice is steady but filled with emotion as he recites the traditional vows, “With this ring, I thee wed. It is a symbol of my love and devotion, a promise to cherish and honour you all the days of my life.”

As Jongseong slides the ring onto your finger, you feel its weight - a tangible representation of his love and commitment. You repeat the same words to him, your hands slightly trembling with the depth of your feelings.

The officiant smiles warmly at the couple. “May these rings be a constant reminder of the love you share and the vows you have made to each other.”

With the rings exchanged, the officiant addresses the gathering. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Jongseong leans in, his gaze locked with yours, and the world seems to fall away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. His lips touch yours with a tenderness that is both electrifying and soothing. The kiss starts softly, a gentle brush of affection, but it quickly deepens into something more passionate and heartfelt. His hands cradle your face, his thumbs gently brushing along your cheekbones, anchoring you both in the intimacy of the moment.

The warmth of his breath mingles with yours, and as the kiss unfolds, it feels like a dance - delicate and full of emotion. Jongseong’s lips move with a tender urgency, conveying the depth of his love and the gravity of the vows you’ve just exchanged. There’s gentle pressure, a shared promise in the way his mouth moves against yours as if he’s pouring all the love he holds into this one kiss.

The chapel’s applause and cheers seem distant, fading into the background as you’re wrapped in the warmth and sweetness of Jongseong’s kiss. His fingers gently trace the curve of your jaw, adding a touch of reverence to the moment. You can feel the thrum of emotion in every touch, every caress, as if he’s imprinting this perfect moment onto both of your souls.

As you slowly pull away, Jongseong’s eyes are filled with a mixture of joy and reverence. The intensity of the kiss has left both of you breathless, your hearts racing with the shared exhilaration of this new chapter. His gaze holds yours with profound happiness, and you see in his eyes the same depth of feeling that you’ve always known was there.

“I love you so fucking much, Y/N,” Jongseong confesses with more earnestness than you have ever seen in one human being. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to swear in church,” you giggle, pecking his lips to rid him of the sin.

But he’s unbothered, his emotions outweighing etiquette. He shrugs and takes your hand in his. “I think the big man upstairs will forgive me this one time.”

As Jongseong takes your hand, the two of you walk down the aisle together, the applause from your friends and family echoing through the chapel, though it now feels like nothing more than a distant murmur. His thumb gently strokes the back of your hand, and every glance he steals your way is filled with an overwhelming sense of love and pride. The weight of the moment lingers sweetly between you, as if you’re both walking on air.

Once outside, the soft sunlight bathes you both in warmth, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh. This is everything you could want. 

Jongseong, ever the gentleman, jogs to reach the car first, dramatically pulling the door open with a playful grin. “After you, Mrs. Park,” he gestures with a flourish, eyes turning into sweet crescent moons as the light beams from him.

You raise an eyebrow and chuckle at his antics. “You’re enjoying this, huh?”

“Can’t help it,” he winks, guiding you gently into the car. “I love how it sounds on my tongue,” he leans down until he’s level with your face, “Mrs. Park, Mrs. Park, Mrs. Park.” 

He will repeat it until he gets bored of hearing it, which will be never and a day.

As you settle into the seat, he quickly slips in beside you, and before the door is even shut, his lips are on yours again, more urgent this time. The kiss deepens with a fervour that wasn’t quite there at the altar, and you can feel his restraint fading. He pulls you closer, his hand resting possessively on your waist, as if he’s making up for all the time he spent holding back earlier - he would have gone all in but something about tonguing you down in front of a priest and about 30 of your closest friends and family didn’t sit well with him. His lips move hungrily against yours, each kiss more intense than the last.

You let out a soft moan in response to the sudden heat, and Jongseong smirks into your mouth, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, but not before brushing his lips teasingly against yours once more. The car starts moving, but his focus is entirely on you. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his breath coming in shallow, heated bursts. The playful glint in his eyes returns as he taps the driver on the shoulder.

“Could you take us back to the hotel for a quick pit stop?” His tone is mischievous, eyes twinkling with intent.

You blink in surprise, your thoughts returning briefly to the chaos of the wedding day schedule. “But…we need to get our certificate signed, take pictures…the reception?” You eye him curiously, though a part of you already knows where this is going.

Jongseong just shrugs, utterly unbothered. “That can wait a minute. Do you have any idea how hard it was not having you last night?”

His words send a ripple of heat down your spine, and despite your initial protest, a smile tugs at your lips. “It was one night, Jongseong,” you laugh incredulously, though you know deep down you shared his struggle. There’s a certain magnetic pull between you that’s only intensified since the moment you exchanged vows.

But before you can say anything else, his mouth is on your neck, his lips trailing heated, deliberate kisses along your skin. He finds that spot just beneath your ear, the one that always leaves you breathless, and you melt into him instantly. Your earlier concerns about timing and schedules vanish, replaced by the undeniable, almost primal need for him.

Every touch, every kiss, is fuelled by the weight of the day’s emotions, and soon you’re lost in him entirely, giving in to the desire that’s been simmering between you. From love to passion, your relationship flows seamlessly between them.

Jongseong’s kisses are searing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and any remaining thoughts of the day’s schedule fade into nothing. His hands grip your waist firmly, pulling you closer as you feel the heat building between you both. The car ride blurs by in a haze of stolen kisses and whispered promises, the tension growing heavier with every touch.

Before long, the car pulls up outside the hotel, and Jongseong barely waits for the driver to open the door before he helps you out, his grip on your hand tight, his thumb brushing your wedding ring with fondness despite the heat pumping through him. 

The hotel lobby is a blur, neither of you paying attention to anything around you as he tugs you towards the lift. Once inside, his mouth is back on yours, pushing you gently against the wall, his body pressed up close, a low groan escaping his lips.

The moment the doors open to your floor, you’re both stumbling down the hallway, hands roaming, clothes being tugged at impatiently. The urgency is palpable, as if every second spent not touching is a second wasted. By the time you reach the room, Jongseong fumbles with the key card, barely able to keep his lips from yours as he finally pushes the door open.

You stumble inside together, the sheer size of your wedding dress catching between you as you attempt to navigate the small space. Jongseong laughs softly into the kiss, but neither of you cares as you pull at each other, the weight of your emotions taking over. His hands work swiftly to find the buttons and zippers hidden beneath layers of fabric, and you can feel his need for you in every motion.

Your lips part briefly, just long enough for you to gasp out between kisses, “We need to be quick, baby.” Your breath is ragged, your voice barely above a whisper, but the desperation in your tone mirrors his own.

“Quick…right,” he mutters, though there’s no sign of him slowing down. His hands are everywhere - your waist, your back, your hips - gripping and pulling as though he can’t get enough of you. He presses you up against the nearest wall, his lips finding yours again, deeper and more urgent than before.

As you pull him closer, the fabric of your dress rustles and tangles between you, but it only adds to the delicious mess of the moment. His hands slip beneath the lace, fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs, making you gasp. He smiles against your lips, that same playful glint in his eyes, but his kiss is nothing but intense.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of fumbling, Jongseong’s fingers work the last clasp on the back of your dress. The fabric slips from your shoulders, and the sensation of it gliding down your body makes you shiver. He steps back just slightly, allowing the gown to pool at your feet, his eyes following every movement with hungry intensity.

The moment he sees you standing there in nothing but the white lace lingerie beneath, his breath catches, and a flicker of pure desire ignites in his gaze. His hands, which had been so impatient before, now pause in reverence, as though he’s taking in every detail, committing this moment to memory.

“God,” he breathes out, voice thick with awe and hunger. “You’re fucking perfect, have i ever told you that?”

His words send a wave of warmth through you, your heart racing even faster under the weight of his gaze. Before you can respond, his hands find your waist again, pulling you to him. His lips crash against yours, the intensity of the kiss somehow even more fervent now that there’s nothing between you but the thin lace of your thong and his trousers.

His fingers trace the delicate patterns of the fabric, teasingly brushing over your skin in a way that makes your pulse quicken. His lips move from your mouth, trailing down your jawline to your collarbone, then lower, each kiss deliberate, driving you wild with anticipation.

“Jongseong…” You gasp, your body reacting to every touch, every kiss. The urgency from before still lingers, but there’s something deeper now - a need not just for passion, but for connection. The feeling that you’ve finally, truly become his in every way.

He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way your body responds to him, his hands sliding over the lace as though he can barely restrain himself, feeling how wet you are for him. His lips find yours again, but this time slower, deeper, as if he’s taking everything in, the moment, you, all of it.

“Quick, right?” he teases softly between kisses, but there’s now no rush in his movements now. The two of you are lost in each other, and any notion of time or urgency is forgotten as he continues to explore you, making every second feel endless and yet not nearly enough.

Jongseong’s teasing words hang in the air, and you can’t help but smile against his lips, your heart pounding in your chest. The fire between you is still blazing, but there’s a tenderness now, an unspoken understanding that this moment is more than just physical. It’s the culmination of everything - every shared glance, every whispered promise, every touch over the past 12 years.

“I’m gonna fuck you, fill you up and have you walk around the reception with my cum inside of you,” he breathes out, his hands busy undoing his dress trousers, fingers fumbling before pushing them down, the fabric pooling to his ankles, quickly making friends with your wedding dress.

The mere thought if it has you deperate, and instantly, you’re jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist, your heat craving his touch.  Jongseong lets out a low groan as you cling to him, the weight of you pressing against his cock driving his need to the surface. He catches your lips again, this time more fervently, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he practically traps you between the wall and his chest. The coolness of the hotel wall contrasts with the heat of his body, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he mutters against your lips, his voice a mix of frustration and affection. His breath is heavy, matching the rapid beat of your heart. He needs to be inside of you, and he needs it now.

As he adjusts his grip on you, his hand slides between your thighs as he pushes your thong to the side, lining himself up. The anticipation builds, and you moan softly, arching against him, silently pleading for more, the tip of his cock poking at where you need him most. He pauses for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

“Ready?” he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, as if daring you to answer.

You don’t need to say a word - your body tells him everything he needs to know, but your nod anyway. “Yes, fuck, Jongseong please.”

With one smooth motion, Jongseong thrusts into you, filling you completely. A gasp escapes your lips as your bodies meld together, the intensity of the moment sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. He groans deeply, his breath ragged as he begins to move, each thrust deliberate and powerful, driving deeper into you.

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through your core, your senses overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you. The curve of his cock drags down your tight walls, each bump of your inner core being kissed by his bell, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

His pace quickens, the need between you intensifying. Your nails dig into his back, holding him closer as he drives into you harder, deeper, the friction and heat building to an unbearable crescendo. The way he looks at you, his eyes dark and intense, filled with raw need and adoration, makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters to him in this moment.

“God, you feel so good,” he breathes out, his voice hoarse with desire. His hips snap against yours with more urgency, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he presses his forehead to yours. “Gonna fill you up, yeah? Give you all of me just like you deserve.”

You can’t hold back the moans that slip from your lips, your body trembling as you near the edge. Every thrust, every touch, every breath sends you spiraling closer to that sweet release, and you can feel it building, tightening in your core.

“Can’t wait to start a family with you, baby,” he confesses, the sentence thoughtful yet primal, “What if I got you pregnant right now, huh? Would Mrs. Park like that?”

“Fuck, yes!” you mewl out, the way he says your new government name along with the promise of a family is all too overwhelming as it mixes in with the utter lust your body feels. You need him to fill you to the brim, to have each inch of him buried to the hilt of you while he pumps his seed deep into your womb. “I need you… so close…” you whisper, your voice trembling with desperation.

Jongseong's thrusts become more urgent, each one deeper and harder than the last. Your bodies move in perfect rhythm, his name slipping from your lips in a desperate moan as pleasure coils tighter within you. The world fades away, your senses filled only by the heat of his skin against yours, the heady scent of desire, and the raw intensity in his gaze as he watches you unravel beneath him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Mrs. Park,” he whispers, “So pretty, and all mine.” His tone is loving if through gritted teeth, parts of the syllables coated in the desire he has running through his veins.

“I love you, Jongseong,” you whisper, kissing all over his face as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink of euphoria.

He chuckles softly, eyes almost filling with tears. “I love you too, Y/N. So fucking much.” And without another word, he kisses you with so much passion and devotion that if you weren’t already breathless from the raw fucking he is giving you, you definetly would have felt the air escape your lungs.

The pressure inside you builds relentlessly, your muscles clenching around him, drawing him deeper. He groans, a low, guttural sound that sends a thrill of electricity through your veins. His lips trail back up your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake before they crash into yours again, his kiss filled with hunger and need, as if he can’t get enough of you.

"You're perfect," he breathes against your lips, his voice strained, thick with lust. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you down harder onto him with every thrust, making you feel every inch of him. “Ready to be a mum, baby? Ready for me to fuck you senseless each and every day and use the excuse of trying?”

“Fuck yeah, Jongseong, I can’t wait.” The grin on your face contorts with pure pleasure as he takes your words and runs wild with them, making good on his promise. If it isn’t today, or tomorrow, or even in the next year, he will make sure he keeps fucking you, until both of you create something wonderful, until you create a family that’s bigger than what you both are now.

You cling to him, nails scraping against his back as waves of pleasure crash over you with every buck of his hips. His pace is relentless now, hips slamming into yours with raw, unfiltered passion, each motion pushing you closer to the edge. Your vision blurs, the world spinning as the sensation intensifies, your body trembling uncontrollably.

You can feel him pulsing inside you, the tension in his body telling you that he's close, just as you are. His name is the only word you can form as your release builds to a peak, the pressure inside you unbearable. He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on you, completely focused as he watches you fall apart in his arms.

"Cum for me," he growls, his voice a rough command that sends a shudder through you.

At his words, the coil inside you snaps, and you let go completely. A cry escapes your lips as the orgasm tears through you, your entire body trembling violently as pleasure floods your senses. You grip onto him like he's the only thing grounding you, your nails digging into his skin as wave after wave of ecstasy courses through you.

Jongseong’s own release follows soon after, his body shuddering as he empties himself inside you, his groans of pleasure vibrating against your neck. His movements slow but remain deep, deliberate, prolonging the sensation as both of you ride the aftershocks of pleasure. You can feel his warmth spreading through you, just as he promised, and the thought of it sends a final tremor through your body.

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of the moment still clinging to you as Jongseong’s weight presses you gently against the wall. His chest heaves against yours, and the only sound is the ragged rhythm of your breaths mingling in the charged air.

Slowly, Jongseong pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His fingers trace softly over your flushed skin, and the intensity in his eyes gives way to a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. A satisfied smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he leans in to kiss you again, this time with a slow, sweet tenderness that deepens the connection between you.

“You okay?” he whispers, his voice soft and reverent as his thumb caresses the curve of your jaw.

You nod, breathless and still tingling from the afterglow. “More than okay,” you murmur, your lips brushing against his as you speak.

“Good,” he chuckles, his eyes glinting with mischief. He sets you down gently, supporting you until your legs regain their strength. “We have a reception to get back to, after all.”

With a deft, almost intimate touch, his fingers slip between your sensitive folds, gathering his essence before gently pushing it back inside you. His gaze remains locked with yours, a mix of possessiveness and adortation. “Keep that in there until I can steal you away again and give you more.”

Giggling, you nod, biting your lip. You really cannot wait for the day you have this man’s child.

_____

Jongseong bursts into the hospital, his breath ragged, his vision blurred by the panic that clogs his thoughts. The fluorescent lights overhead feel too bright, their sterile, clinical glow only exacerbating the coldness gripping his chest. A sharp antiseptic smell wafts through the air, mingling with the faint hum of machinery and the occasional cough from sick patients in the waiting area. The beeps of heart monitors and distant murmurs of conversation all blur into a single cacophony, lost on him as his sole focus narrows to one desperate objective: finding you.

His eyes dart wildly across the expanse of the lobby, scanning for some kind of guidance. There, tucked away in the corner, is an oak reception desk. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with a sympathetic smile, taps away at her computer, unaware of the storm about to come her way. Jongseong rushes over, his heart pounding, each thud reverberating in his ears like the ticking of a countdown he can’t afford to lose.

"Excuse me, do you know where the maternity ward is?" The words tumble from his mouth in a breathless jumble, barely coherent even to his own ears. It doesn’t sound like him - this frantic, uncollected version of himself - but he doesn’t care. He can’t afford to. His gaze flickers briefly to the woman behind the desk as she begins to reply, her voice gentle, almost calming, in stark contrast to the chaos raging inside him.

"You're in the wrong section, sweetheart. Maternity is ward 48, it's down the ha-"

But he doesn't wait for her to finish. Her words are cut short as he spins on his heel, legs propelling him down the long, seemingly endless corridor. His heart is racing, but not from the sprint. It’s the weight of fear, the gnawing dread that tightens his chest and churns his stomach. He might miss it. He might miss you. Miss being by your side when you need him the most. The thought alone makes his insides twist, as though someone had reached into his ribcage and clenched his heart in a fist.

This is supposed to be a joyous moment - the birth of his son, your son, the culmination of months of waiting, preparing, and dreaming. But right now, all he feels is the gnawing anxiety that he won’t make it in time. That he won’t be there to hold your hand, to look into your eyes and tell you that you’re doing great, that everything will be okay. 

His mind races back to when he received the call from your sister, the news hitting him like a freight train. He had been at work, neck-deep in paperwork and deadlines. He had barely believed it at first. You weren’t due for another two weeks; surely, this was a mistake. Yet, here you were, two floors above him, about to deliver his precious son into the world.

But none of that matters now. What matters is getting to you, being by your side before it’s too late. 

His legs burn as he pushes himself forward, following the overhead signs that guide him toward ward 48. The corridors stretch out before him like a maze, every turn only amplifying the desperation pooling in his chest. The sharp click of his shoes echoes loudly in the silence, but all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears, the frantic beat of his own heart drowning out everything else.

When he finally crashes into the ward’s front desk, it’s not graceful. His body slams into the counter, breath heaving, his muscles taut with adrenaline. He grips the edge of the desk as though it's the only thing keeping him upright. "Excuse me, what room is Y/N Park in?" The words come out strained, his voice thick with tension. Every fibre of his being feels stretched to the breaking point, as though his body is barely containing the swell of emotions surging through him.

The receptionist looks up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. There’s a knowing look in her eyes, one that says she’s seen this before - fathers on the verge of breaking, desperate to be there, to not miss the moment that changes everything. "Down the hall, third door on your left," she says kindly, nodding toward the direction he needs to go.

He doesn’t wait. With a sharp intake of breath, he pushes himself off the counter and bolts toward your room, his legs moving on autopilot, every step pounding with urgency. His mind races, imagining you lying there, scared or in pain, and it tears at him. You shouldn’t have to go through this by yourself. He swore to be there, to hold your hand through every step of this, and now he’s running on borrowed time.

The corridor leading to your room feels impossibly long, each door blurring past him as he counts them off in his head. First door, second door...third door. His hand trembles as it reaches for the handle, the weight of the moment crashing over him like a wave. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the truth is, nothing can prepare him for this. The surge of love, fear, and anticipation battling inside him is overwhelming, but all of it pales in comparison to the thought of you.

When he opens the door, his heart nearly stops. There you are, lying in the hospital bed, your face flushed with exertion but glowing with a strength he has always admired. You look up, and the moment your eyes meet his, it’s as if time itself stops. Relief floods your features, and he rushes to your side, gripping your hand as though it’s the only tether keeping him grounded.

"I’m here," he breathes, his voice cracking with emotion, kissing all over your hand. "I’m here, baby."

And as you squeeze his hand, the world narrows to just the two of you. The chaos of the hospital fades into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breathing, the soft murmurs of encouragement from the midwife, and the quiet reassurance that, despite everything, he made it. He’s here.

“Okay, Y/N, I need you to push again for me. You’re doing so great, hun.” The midwife's voice is soft, almost a lullaby amidst the storm of chaos within you. It’s as if her words offer you a momentary anchor, a delicate thread of calm amidst the crashing waves of pressure building up inside your body. You nod, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling with exhaustion, but her voice mixed with the familiar warmth of Jongseong’s hand in yours somehow gives you strength. His fingers, strong and steady, wrap around yours, grounding you in this moment of overwhelming intensity.

He whispers soothing words, his thumb brushing over your clammy skin, wiping the sheen of sweat from your brow. But you barely register them. The noise of the hospital fades into the background as your body screams for release. It’s all-consuming, this pain—a deep, primal ache that makes you wonder how anyone could endure this more than once. You’re making a vow to yourself in this very moment: this is definitely the last time you’ll be giving birth.

The midwife’s calm encouragement pulls you back into the moment. “That’s it, you’re doing brilliantly, sweetie! He’s crowning!”

Her words send a jolt of both fear and anticipation down your spine. He’s almost here. You’re almost at the end. But it hurts - God, it fucking hurts. You can feel your body stretching, tearing, and it feels impossible, like your entire being is being pulled apart at the seams. You wonder how anyone survives this. You wonder how people choose to do this again and again. But the end is so close now, you can feel it, and it’s that thought, that hope, that pushes you to dig deep into a reserve of strength you didn’t even know you had.

Jongseong leans in, his face inches from yours as he wipes the sweat off your forehead. His touch is gentle, careful, as though you might shatter under the intensity of what’s happening. “My beautiful girl, you’re doing so well,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. His words are meant to comfort you, but in your overstimulated state, they fall flat, like a pebble tossed into a stormy sea.

"You did this to me!" you cry out, your voice a strangled mixture of rage, exhaustion, and raw pain. The agony, the pressure, the sensation of your body trying to expel a living, breathing being from your core - it’s all too much. The frustration bubbles up and spills out as you glare at him through half-lidded eyes, loathing him, if only for a second, for putting you in this impossible situation.

Jongseong doesn’t take offence. Instead, he chuckles under his breath, a sound almost swallowed by the sheer intensity of the moment. He presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, seemingly immune to the iron grip you’ve got on his hand, your fingers squeezing so tightly it’s a wonder his bones aren’t crushed. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the tension. “I’m a bad man for giving you the best fucks of your life and putting you in this situation, aren’t I?”

Despite the searing pain wracking your body, you manage a weak, breathless laugh. His words, paired with the earnest yet amused look on his face, somehow cut through the fog of agony. For a brief, fleeting moment, the tension in the room eases, and even the nursing team joins in with a soft chuckle, their eyes sparkling with fondness.

“You’re the worst,” you retort, your voice strained, yet the humour dances between you like a fleeting lifeline. You don’t mean it, and once your beautiful baby is in your arms, you’ll forget every resentment towards your husband, the pain long gone and only love clouding your senses.

But the pain comes roaring back in full force, and the midwife’s voice cuts through the moment. “Alright, Y/N, I need you to push again. Just one more big push, okay?”

You nod, though you don’t trust your voice to respond. Your entire body tenses as you prepare for the final stretch, the last hurdle. The pressure builds, an unbearable weight pushing down on you, and with one last groan - deep, guttural, like a battle cry those old vikings used to do - you bear down, gripping Jongseong’s hand with all the strength you have left.

“You’re doing it, Y/N! That’s it, keep going!” The midwife’s voice is urgent but encouraging, guiding you through the overwhelming sensations. The room seems to blur at the edges, your vision tunnelling as you focus on nothing but the task at hand. You feel the burn, the rawness of your body stretching beyond its limits, but you push through it, every fibre of your being screaming for this to be over.

And then, with one final, agonised push, it is.

A high, piercing cry fills the room, cutting through the tension like a blade, and suddenly the world stills. The pain, the fear, the exhaustion - all of it fades away as you hear the first wail of your son, your precious baby boy. You collapse back against the pillows, your chest heaving, tears slipping down your cheeks as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

Jongseong is crying too. His hand is shaking as he wipes his eyes, his gaze locked on the tiny, wriggling figure in the midwife’s arms. “He’s here,” he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. “Our boy… he’s here.”

The midwife checks your son over for a moment, and once she deems everything is perfectly healthy and fine, she offers you a small smile. “Would you like skin-to-skin?”

Without hesitation, you nod, exhaustion clouding over you. “Yes, please.”

The midwife places your newborn son on your chest, his tiny body warm and wet against your skin. You feel a rush of emotions - love, relief, awe - all of it crashing over you in waves so powerful they steal the breath from your lungs. Jongseong’s hand is reaches up to your face, his fingers trembling as he brushes a tear from your cheek.

“You did it,” he breathes, his eyes shining with pride and wonder. “You really did it, my love.”

You look down at your baby, his small hand curling against your chest, and despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs, you can’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “We did it,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your son’s soft cries.

And in that moment, as the three of you are cocooned in the quiet warmth of the hospital room, the world outside ceases to exist. There is only this. Only the love, the relief, and the overwhelming sense of joy that, despite everything, you’re finally a family.

Bringing life into the world is a moment of pure wonder, filled with a sense of awe and joy that nothing else compares to. The arrival of a new soul, fresh and full of potential, feels like the universe itself holding its breath in reverence. It’s beautiful chaos, tears of relief, the quiet weight of a newborn in your arms, the sweet fatigue that follows the storm of labour. There's a rawness, a vulnerability to it that makes it sacred. The start of life is an unspoken promise, a beginning with endless possibilities stretching out before it.

But as beautiful as the act of bringing life into the world is, it's devastatingly cruel when life is taken away. 

_____

Jongseong ascended the stairs slowly, each step sending a dull ache through his brittle bones. His knees groaned under his weight, no longer the strong, agile legs that had once carried him with ease through the vigours of life. The years had settled deep into his joints, a reminder of a long life lived. At seventy-five, his body had become an archive of memories, each wrinkle and creak a testament to the passage of time. But he didn’t mind, not really. He knew aging was inevitable, and while he wasn’t the fit man he used to be, he had grown accustomed to the slower pace, to the small sacrifices his body demanded. Today, though, his knees seemed to be protesting more than usual.

The morning was still quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that only early dawn could bring. Jongseong had woken up earlier than you, something he had done a bit more often lately. Your still frame lay blissfully as he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake you. He wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, nothing extravagant, just something simple and sweet. Toast, a little bowl of fruit, and your favourite yoghurt arranged neatly on a tray. And, of course, a tiny daisy from the garden, a little burst of yellow and white placed beside the cutlery - a small token of the love he still carried for you, as bright and fresh as the day he’d first met you.

He smiled to himself as he finally reached the top of the stairs, breathing out heavily. His chest rose and fell slowly as he gathered the air back into his lungs, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips. “Y’know, baby, maybe we should invest in that stairmaster,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head at the thought. “My knees are giving up on me here.”

He pushed open the door to your shared bedroom, the familiar scent of lavender and old wood welcoming him in. The room was a sanctuary, a place where the two of you had spent decades creating a life together. The walls seemed to hum with memories - of laughter, whispered arguments, nights spent comforting a scared baby Jeyou when he was small, his little body tucked between the two of you as you soothed his fears. Even now, the room felt like a cocoon of warmth, filled with the quiet reassurance of a life well-lived together.

Jongseong’s eyes softened as they landed on you. There you were, lying so peacefully, your grey hair splayed across the pillow, half of your face buried into its softness. Your lashes rested delicately on your wrinkled cheeks, and even now, after all these years, you looked so beautiful to him. He’d always loved watching you sleep, loved the way your face relaxed into a soft serenity. He stood there for a moment, tray still in hand, just looking at you, his heart swelling with the same love that had carried him through all the challenges, all the joys and sorrows of life. Every wrinkle on your face told a story he cherished, every line a map of the life you had built together.

But as he stood there, something shifted. The quietness in the room felt...different. The silence was deeper, more still than usual. He tilted his head, waiting for the familiar soft snort you made when you exhaled in your sleep, or for the small rise and fall of your chest that always reassured him. 

But none of that came.

His heart, which had been so full just moments ago, plummeted in his chest. A chill washed over him, the warmth of the room suddenly replaced with a growing panic.

“Love?” His voice was uncertain, his body moving on instinct as he placed the tray down on the dresser by the door. His legs, tired just a second ago, suddenly felt weightless as he rushed to your side. “Y/N?” He sat on the bed, his voice trembling now. “Baby, come on, wake up.”

He reached out, brushing the hair from your face, the strands falling softly between his trembling fingers. His hand lingered on your cheek, feeling for the warmth he had always known, but your skin felt cool beneath his touch. Too cool.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking. His other hand found your shoulder, shaking you gently at first, and then with more urgency. “No, no, no. Come on, baby, stop joking around. Wake up. Please.”

The stillness of your body was a stark contrast to the frantic tremor in his hands. He shook you again, harder this time, but you remained as you were - so peaceful, so unbearably still. His chest tightened, the tears pooling in his eyes blurring his vision. He blinked rapidly, as though he could chase away the truth that was slowly sinking in, but it was there, gnawing at the edges of his heart.

“Please, baby, please. Don’t do this. I need you to wake up.” His voice was barely a whisper now, broken and fragile, like a child pleading for a nightmare to end. He pulled you closer, his trembling fingers gripping your arms as he collapsed over you, his body draped across yours as the sobs tore through him. The tears fell freely now, landing on your skin, tiny droplets of his heartbreak mingling with the softness of your stillness.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice strangled by grief. “Please. Don’t leave me. Not now. I’m not ready.”

The room, once so full of love and warmth, felt unbearably cold now. The silence stretched on, suffocating him, pressing down on his chest until he could barely breathe. He held you tightly, his arms wrapped around your lifeless body, as if by sheer will alone he could pull you back, make you breathe again, make your heart beat again. But you didn’t move. You didn’t stir.

Jongseong’s tears soaked into your skin, his sobs shaking his frail frame. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart, every beat more painful than the last. He pressed his cheek against your forehead, inhaling the faint scent of your skin, the scent that had been a constant comfort to him for all these years. But now, even that was fading, slipping away like you had.

“I can’t do this without you,” he cried, his voice breaking as he held you tighter. “We’ve always done everything together. How am I supposed to keep going if you’re not here? Please, baby, please...just come back to me.”

But there was no response, no stirring beneath his touch. Only silence. The kind of silence that comes with finality, with the weight of something precious being stolen away forever.

He stayed there, curled up beside you, his tears flowing unchecked, his heart heavy with the unbearable realisation that the love of his life, the woman who had been his everything for decades, was gone. The weight of it settled into his bones, deeper than any ache he’d felt before. This wasn’t just the weight of age, but of loss - a weight that would never truly lift.

For a long time, Jongseong didn’t move. He stayed wrapped around you, whispering soft apologies, broken words of love, promises that no longer had a future. His tears mingled with the daisy he’d picked for you, now wilting beside the untouched tray on the dresser, a small, fragile symbol of the life that had once bloomed between the two of you.

Jongseong's sobs gradually gave way to a trembling stillness as he lay beside you, his breaths coming in ragged, shuddering gasps. The tears had begun to slow, leaving trails of salt on his cheeks, mingling with the remnants of the breakfast tray that had once held such promise. The quiet of the room felt like a heavy blanket, oppressive and final. It was the kind of silence that seemed to stretch endlessly, a cruel reminder of what was now lost.

He pulled himself up slightly, lifting his head from where it had been buried in your shoulder. His eyes, red and swollen, scanned the room - the room that had been a sanctuary of shared dreams and countless memories. He looked at the framed photographs on the bedside table: the smiling faces of a younger you and him, the family portraits, snapshots of Jeyou through the years. It was all a tapestry of a life lived together, and now, it felt like a cruel joke.

“C’mon, love,” he said, his voice hoarse but resolute. He took your hand in his, holding it gently, trying to draw strength from the familiar warmth that was no longer there. “We still have so much more to do.” His voice cracked, but he pressed on, his mind desperately clinging to the plans they had made, the future they had envisioned.

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, his fingers tracing the lines of your hand with a tenderness born of countless shared moments. “Remember, we were going to finish the garden? We talked about planting those roses in the front yard. You always said you wanted to see them bloom better than the witches next door. And the trip to the lake -  Jeyou’s been asking about that fishing trip for ages. You promised him, remember? We were going to take him and Minhee out there and teach them how to catch those big trout.”

Jongseong’s tears began to flow again, mixing with the desperate, pleading edge in his voice. “What about Jeyou?” he continued, his voice breaking. “You can’t leave him behind. We’ve always been a family. He needs you, just like I do. He’s grown up so much, and he still needs his mum. We were going to watch him grown old and brittle like us, how can you do that if you don’t wake up, huh?”

He bent his head, his forehead resting against the cool, unmoving surface of your hand. “Fuck, baby,” he whispered, the words barely audible through the sobs that wracked his body. “If you can’t come back for me, come back for him. Please, please, please. Don’t leave him with just memories of you. He needs you. I need you.”

His pleas hung in the air, a desperate cry to the silence that had become so final. He squeezed your hand, the small, gentle action a futile attempt to make you respond, to bring you back. The room felt impossibly cold now, the warmth of shared dreams replaced by the chilling finality of loss.

He stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding your hand, whispering promises and plans that would never come to pass. The light from the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room, but it seemed to mock him now. The day they had planned, the future they had envisioned together, was slipping away, drowned in the ocean of his grief.

Jongseong’s heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand pieces, each shard a fragment of a life that would never be. He tried to imagine moving forward, but every vision was tainted by your absence. The world outside, with its ongoing rhythm and pulse, felt distant and irrelevant compared to the hollow ache that had settled within him.

_

Jongseong stood by your grave, the ache in his chest so profound it felt like it had hollowed him out completely. He had known, of course, that your funeral would be difficult but nothing, not even the endless condolences and the gentle words from well-meaning friends and family, could have prepared him for this kind of pain. The grief gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving, leaving him feeling raw and exposed. It was the kind of hurt that no words could soothe, no embrace could soften. Nothing - except you.

His black suit hung loose on his frame, a stark contrast to the confident man he had once been. His posture, usually straight and proud, was slouched, his shoulders weighed down by the unbearable burden of loss. His face, pale and drawn, was a shadow of the man who once carried the light of the world in his heart. That light, he feared, had been taken with you. Since the moment you passed, the world had dimmed, and he wondered if he would ever feel warmth again. When the earth loses the sun, there is only darkness that remains.

He hasn’t slept. How could he? The bed is too big, too cold, too empty without you. Every night since your passing, he had lain awake, staring at the ceiling, his hand reaching across the bed to where you used to be, only to be met with nothing. He would run his fingers over the cool, empty space, the ache in his heart growing stronger with each passing minute. The silence was unbearable, the kind that swallowed him whole. He wondered how he was supposed to go on without you when every reason for his existence was tied to you. You had been his purpose, his love, his everything.

Since he was twenty-two years old, he had known nothing but being your other half. You had been there with him through every step, every joy, every heartbreak, every victory. Now, you weren’t here, and it felt as though half of him had been torn away, leaving a void that nothing could ever fill. His hand felt empty, void of your comforting squeezes, the way you used to reassure him with just a touch. He would never feel that again. He would never hear your laugh, never see your smile light up a room, never feel the warmth of your embrace. The thought was unbearable, a suffocating weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe.

Choking back a sob, Jongseong clenched his jaw and squeezed his throat shut, trying desperately to keep himself together, if not for himself, then for the family who stood around him. He knew they were hurting too, how could they not be, when you had been the centre of their lives as well? But it was hard. It was so hard to stand there and be strong when his insides were crumbling, when every fibre of his being screamed for you. He stared at the ground, his vision blurred by tears, the earth below looking so final, so cold.

The sky overhead was grey, a dull blanket of clouds that seemed to mirror the grief that hung in the air. The wind was gentle, but even the breeze felt like it carried sadness, the chill sinking into Jongseong’s bones. It felt as though the world itself had lost its colour, its vibrancy, ever since you had gone. The trees that surrounded the cemetery stood still, their leaves barely rustling, as if even nature was mourning. Every corner of the graveyard seemed muted, the flowers on the graves dull and lifeless, the headstones stark and lonely. Even the birds seemed quieter today, as though they too understood the magnitude of the loss.

Jongseong forced himself to look up, his eyes finding Jeyou across the gravesite. His son stood beside his wife, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed, his gaze locked on the casket that had been lowered into the ground. Jongseong’s heart ached even more at the sight of him. 

He wanted so desperately to be strong for Jeyou, for your son. He wanted to walk over and put a hand on his shoulder, to tell him everything would be alright, to hold him the way he had when Jeyou was a little boy, scared and unsure of the world. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t be anything for anyone right now, because the one person who had always given him the strength to carry on was gone.

Ara came up beside him then, slipping her arm through his. She didn’t say anything, after all, what could she say? There were no words that could take away the pain. Jongseong felt her presence beside him, her quiet support, but even that couldn’t bridge the gap that had opened up in his heart. Ara’s touch was gentle, her hand squeezing his arm, but the void inside him was too vast, too deep for even the love of his granddaughter to reach.

The priest’s voice droned on in the background, speaking the final words of the burial, but the words seemed to drift away, lost in the weight of the moment. Jongseong could barely hear them over the pounding of his heart, over the sound of his own ragged breaths. He clenched his fists, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free again. He didn’t want to fall apart, not here, not in front of everyone. But how could he not, when the love of his life was leaving him forever?

Jongseong bit his lip, his eyes glassy as he glanced down to your coffin-covered body, as if searching for some kind of reassurance. But there was none to give. This was it. This was the end. You were gone, and there was no miraculous happy ending where you would come back to him, where you would smile and tell him you were never going to leave. There was only the harsh, brutal reality that he would have to live the rest of his life without you.

Jongseong’s knees buckle slightly as the final prayer is spoken, and he feels Ara tighten her grip on his arm, grounding him, keeping him upright. He wants to collapse, to lie beside you and never get up. He wants to close his eyes and pretend that this was all just a terrible dream. But it isn’t. The casket in the ground is real, the earth that will cover it is real, and you are truly gone.

Jongseong let out a shaky breath, the air catching in his throat as he continued to stare at the grave. The casket, now partially covered by the earth, felt like a cruel finality, the last barrier between him and the love of his life. The flowers scattered around the site seemed dull in the overcast light, their once vibrant colours muted by the grief that hung over the cemetery like a thick fog. Everything seemed too quiet, too still, as if the world itself had paused in reverence to the enormity of his pain.

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing with the agony of knowing that this was the end—no more shared mornings, no more gentle touches, no more stolen glances. The weight of it all made his chest tighten, a crushing force that left him gasping for breath. He could hardly believe that this was real, that the woman who had been his reason for living for so many years was now gone, leaving him to navigate a life he no longer knew how to live.

Ara tugged gently at his arm, her silent plea to move, to take a step forward. Jongseong hesitated, his feet rooted to the ground, unwilling to leave the spot where you lay. His eyes remained fixed on the grave, as if by staring hard enough, he could will you back into existence, could bring you back to him. But he knew it was futile. You were gone, and no amount of wishing or hoping could change that.

With a deep, ragged breath, Jongseong finally allowed Ara to lead him away. His feet dragged against the soft ground, every step feeling like a betrayal, a distancing from the life you had shared. Ara’s head stayed resting on his shoulder, her silent support both a comfort and a reminder of the family you had built together. He felt the weight of her love, the warmth of her presence, but it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same without you.

As they moved slowly away from the grave, Jongseong couldn’t resist one last glance back. His eyes, swollen and red from the tears that had yet to stop, locked onto the casket once more, now almost completely covered by the earth. It looked so final, so unbearably permanent. The soft hum of the wind through the trees seemed to carry with it a whisper of the life they had once known, a life that was now out of reach.

The grey sky overhead mirrored the dull ache in his heart, its heavy clouds hanging low as if they, too, mourned the loss of something irreplaceable. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fresh flowers, but even that felt too bittersweet, a cruel reminder of the beauty that could still exist in a world where you no longer did.

As Jongseong allowed himself to be guided away, his shoulders hunched under the weight of grief, he knew that a part of him would forever remain at that graveside, buried alongside you. The rest of the world moved on around him, but for Jongseong, time had stopped the moment you left. Each step he took felt like a journey into an unknown future, a future without you by his side.

And as they walked further and further away, the image of your grave growing smaller in the distance, Jongseong couldn’t help but whisper under his breath, a final, desperate plea to the universe. “Wait for me, love…just wait for me.”

His words faded into the wind as Ara squeezed his arm gently, and together, they walked away from the place where his heart now lay, buried with you.

____

"I miss her," he says, his voice trembling slightly, breaking the stillness. It’s not just a simple statement—it’s a confession, raw and unfiltered, the kind that makes his chest ache as though his heart is being twisted by an invisible hand. He can feel the familiar sting of unshed tears burning behind his eyes, but he fights them back.

The living room is quiet again, but the kind of quiet that suffocates rather than soothes. Jongseong sits on the edge of the worn couch, his eyes fixed on the photographs that line the mantle. They are still - frozen moments of a life that once brimmed with joy and love. His mind drifts back to the present after the painful journey through memory, and he sighs, his heart heavy with the weight of a year without you.

The pain, sharp as it is, feels like a key turning inside him, unlocking emotions he thought he had long buried. A year. A whole year without you. Not a single day has passed where he doesn’t think of you. The mornings are the worst, when he still, out of habit, sets out two cups for coffee. He never drinks the second one - it just sits there, untouched, a quiet tribute to your absence. The daytime programmes you loved continue to play on the television, though they bring him no comfort, just the dull hum of voices filling a void. Visiting your grave has become his ritual, the only place where he feels some semblance of peace, though even that is shadowed by the overwhelming loneliness.

Jeyou shifts beside him, his own expression mirroring his father’s grief. He reaches out, gripping Jongseong’s hand with a firm, comforting squeeze. "I can't imagine what this day is like for you, Dad," Jeyou says, his voice soft, heavy with understanding. After all, he lost his mum, the one woman who sacrificed everything for him to attend the best schools, follow his dreams, and always made him feel like he belonged in this horrible world. 

He misses your soothing words, particularly on days like today, when he would give anything for your advice.

Jongseong swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head slightly. "I only pray that you go first before your partner, so you don’t have to deal with this suffering," he replies, his voice hoarse but sincere. He knows how morbid it must sound, talking so freely about his son’s death, but he means every word. Losing the love of your life is an agony he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, let alone Jeyou. It’s not something you ever get over. The pain is deep, cutthroat, and unrelenting, carving out pieces of your soul until you’re hollowed out, just an echo of who you used to be.

They continue talking for the next few hours, the conversation a gentle distraction, though the sorrow lingers in every pause, every shared glance. Minji and Minhee return from outside, running about the room, their laughter a bright but distant sound in Jongseong’s ears. He watches them, a small smile flickering on his lips. Their energy, their innocence, is a reminder that life does go on, even when it feels like yours has stopped.

As the night begins to peer it’s head, it’s time for them to go. Jongseong hates goodbyes now, even the small ones. Ara looks particularly reluctant to leave, her brow furrowed in worry as she watches her grandfather. She’s always been able to read him like a book, even as a child, and now she can see the light fading from his eyes, just as it has been ever since you left.

"I’ll pop around tomorrow, okay? We’ll get you some shopping in," Jeyou says, standing up and shrugging into his jacket, his eyes lingering on his father’s frail form. Jongseong looks thinner these days, the years catching up to him faster than ever before.

"Thanks, son," Jongseong replies, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. He knows how much of a burden it must be, looking after him, checking in on him. He should be the one taking care of everyone, the way he used to, but these days, it’s hard just to get out of bed in the mornings. The world feels heavier.

Minji and Minhee run up to their Poppy, throwing their arms around him in a tight hug. He leans down, pulling them close, inhaling the sweet scent of their hair as he squeezes them back with as much strength as he can muster.

"Be good, okay? I’ll see you soon," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. Minji giggles and gives him one last squeeze before darting off towards the car, while Minhee sighs in compassion for his great grandfather before following his little sister. He doesn’t know the full extent of everything that goes on, but he knows the old man is hurting. 

Jeyou lingers a moment longer, his eyes searching his father’s face. There’s concern there, etched deep into his features. "Look after yourself, Dad. I mean it," he says, his tone firm but filled with love.

Jongseong nods, offering a faint smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. "I will," he says quietly, but they both know it’s more of a promise to make Jeyou feel better than a commitment Jongseong truly believes in.

As the door closes behind them, Jongseong stands by the window, watching as the car pulls away, his heart sinking deeper into the loneliness that has become his constant companion. The house, once filled with life and laughter, feels far too quiet now. He turns, his gaze drifting back to the photographs on the mantle - snapshots of a life well-lived, of love shared, of a happiness he fears he will never feel again.

With a sigh, Jongseong walks to the mantle and gently picks up the frame holding your picture. His thumb brushes over the glass, tracing the contours of your face, his chest tightening with the ache of missing you.

‘Look after yourself,’ Jeyou had said. But how could he, when the one person who made life worth living was gone?

As the silence wraps itself around him once more, Jongseong sets the picture back in its place, his heart heavy with the weight of another day without you.

Climbing up the stairs, he makes his way to your bedroom, the day draining him of everything he has left. Jongseong steps into the bedroom, the air feels heavier, thick with memories and the lingering presence of you. The familiar scent of lavender still clings to the room, though it’s faded over time, much like the vibrant colours of the quilt you both once shared. He pauses by the doorframe, his eyes falling instinctively to your side of the bed. It’s exactly as you left it - untouched, sacred. He’s been afraid to disrupt it, afraid that even the slightest disturbance might somehow break the fragile connection he feels with you, like it might shake you wherever you are in the universe.

But tonight is different. Tonight, the ache of missing you is unbearable.

Slowly, Jongseong crosses the room, each step feeling heavier than the last. His heart hammers in his chest, his breath shallow as he reaches the bed. He hesitates for a moment, his trembling fingers reaching out to touch your pillow, the one that still sees your head laying upon. Tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision, but he doesn’t wipe them away. He lets them fall freely, each drop a testament to the love he’s carried for you all these years, a love that still refuses to fade even in your absence.

With a shaky breath, Jongseong lowers himself onto your side of the bed, feeling the mattress dip under his weight. It feels strange at first, like he’s intruding on a space that should remain untouched, but the yearning to feel close to you again overpowers the guilt. He lies down, resting his head on your pillow, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths as his tears soak into the fabric.

“I love you, Y/N. More than my heart and chest can hold in,” he whispers into the empty room, the same words he had once said to you all those years ago when he first confessed his love. It feels like an echo, like his heart is trying to reach across the vast distance between him and wherever you are now, hoping that you can hear him, feel him.

He swallows the lump in his throat, his body trembling with grief. "I don’t know how to do this without you, Y/N. Everything... everything is so hard now. Even getting out of bed in the morning. There’s no joy in anything anymore." His voice lowers to a near whisper, almost as though he’s confessing to the universe itself. 

The room feels impossibly quiet, the stillness pressing down on him. His mind races with memories of you, of your laughter, the way your smile could light up even the darkest day, how your hand in his made everything feel right. He presses his face into the pillow, inhaling deeply as if he could somehow capture the last remnants of your presence.

Jongseong closes his eyes, exhaustion creeping up on him, though it’s not the kind that can be cured by sleep. It’s a soul-deep weariness, the kind that comes from carrying too much pain for too long. He hasn’t allowed himself to cry like this in a while, always trying to stay strong for the family, but here, in the silence of your bedroom, he finally lets himself feel the full weight of his grief.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispers, his voice barely audible now. "I don’t know how to live in a world without you. I miss you so much it hurts... I just want to feel you beside me again, even if only for a moment."

He feels the tears slip down his cheeks, hot and unrelenting, but he’s too tired to wipe them away. His body sinks deeper into the bed, the familiar warmth of the blankets enveloping him, though it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same without you.

Jongseong closes his eyes, his hand clutching your pillow as if it were you, as if holding on tight enough could bring you back. The exhaustion weighs heavier on him now, pulling him under, and before he knows it, he’s drifting off to sleep - something that has eluded him since you passed.

Jongseong lies still, his breath slowing as the quiet of the room wraps around him like a blanket. The familiar scent of your pillow soothes the ache in his chest, though not entirely. His hand remains clutching the pillow, his knuckles white against the soft fabric, as if holding on just a little tighter might somehow bring you back.

His frail body begins to relax, the weight of the years and grief easing off his tired shoulders. His eyelids grow heavy, the darkness behind them more inviting than the empty, lonely room. He inhales deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of you; he swears he can feel you surrounding him.

Jongseong’s heart, worn and bruised by your absence, finds a strange calm. The sharp pain of loss that has haunted him for so long softens, as if your presence - though unseen - soothes him, guiding him gently. He can almost hear your voice, soft and familiar, calling his name from somewhere far off, yet so close.

Exhaustion weighs heavier now, pulling him further into that quiet space between sleep and memory. His body sinks deeper into the mattress, the aches in his bones easing as his breathing slows. In the stillness, each breath comes softer, more rhythmic, like the gentle ebb of a distant tide.

As sleep pulls him in fully, a peaceful expression settles across his face. The lines of grief soften, replaced by something close to serenity. His grip on the pillow loosens, his hand falling gently to his side.

And in that stillness, Jongseong rests, his breathing gentle, his heart finally at peace, as though in the silence of the room, he has found his way back to you.

_____

“Dad?” Jeyou’s voice echoes through the house as he steps inside, the door clicking shut softly behind him. A strange, unsettling quiet fills the space, not the kind of silence that welcomes you home but the kind that makes your skin prickle. There’s no familiar sound of his father calling out from another room, no clattering of dishes in the kitchen or the hum of the TV from the living room. It’s still. 

Too still.

He pauses at the base of the stairs, staring up as if expecting his dad to appear at the top, grinning, telling him to come up. But nothing. The quiet presses down on him, growing heavier with each passing second. Everything in the house looks exactly the same as it did yesterday - the framed photos of family lining the hallway, the shoes left in a pile near the door, and the faint scent of yesterday’s lunch lingering. Something feels...off.

Jeyou swallows hard, dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he places his hand on the bannister, fingers trembling slightly. He starts up the stairs slowly, the soft creak of each step the only sound breaking the silence. With every step, his heart pounds harder, his breath growing more unsteady. The house, once full of warmth, now feels cold, unfamiliar.

As he reaches the top of the stairs, the hallway stretches before him, just as it always has. But the air is different. It feels heavier, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Jeyou walks toward the bedroom, his pace quickening as he reaches the door. His hand hovers over the handle, the knot of anxiety twisting tighter in his chest. He pushes the door open slowly.

There, lying on the bed, is his father.

Jongseong is still in the clothes he wore yesterday, his body lying peacefully on the bed, his hand hanging limply off the side, fingers curled and unmoving. His face is calm, serene even, as if he’s just fallen into a deep sleep. But the sight is all wrong. His chest doesn’t rise and fall with the steady rhythm of breath. The colour in his cheeks has faded, his skin now ashen and pale.

Jeyou’s breath catches in his throat, his chest tightening painfully. "Oh... no..." he whispers, the words trembling as they leave his mouth. His jaw clenches, trying to hold back the wave of emotion crashing over him, but it’s no use. His eyes burn, tears pricking painfully at the corners before spilling over, running down his cheeks before he can even bring himself to step closer.

He drops to his knees beside the bed, his hands shaking as they reach for his father’s limp hand, the warmth long gone. His fingers brush Jongseong’s skin, but there’s no response, no twitch, no familiar squeeze. His father is gone, and Jeyou feels the reality of it shattering through him like a blow to the chest.

He leans over the bed, resting his forehead against his father’s hand, the sobs he’s been holding back finally escaping his throat in broken gasps. “No... please... not yet, Dad,” he chokes out, his voice strangled by the tears, the grief clawing at his insides. "Please..."

Jeyou lifts his head, staring at his father’s peaceful face, and for a moment, it feels like he’s just sleeping. But the quiet, the terrible, awful quiet, tells him everything he needs to know. His father, the man who had been his rock, his guide through life, is no longer here.

There is a sweet irony in this moment.

As Jeyou's sobs echo softly through the room, Jongseong’s spirit hovers nearby, watching his son with a tender, bittersweet smile. Although he mourns the pain of his son, there’s no longer any weight on his heart, no sense of loss or longing. Instead, there’s a warmth, a gentle, reassuring presence by his side. He feels it before he even turns. A familiar hand slips into his, fingers intertwining with his in the way they always had, fitting perfectly, like pieces of a long-lost puzzle finally reunited.

He turns, and there you are, standing before him with that radiant smile that never failed to brighten his darkest days. It’s the smile that spoke of every quiet moment you shared, every laugh, every whispered confession of love. His heart, which had carried the unbearable ache of your absence for so long, suddenly feels whole again. The years of sorrow and longing melt away in an instant, replaced by the purest form of joy.

“Took you long enough,” you say with a soft pout, your voice light and teasing, just as it had been in life. There’s no hint of sadness or bitterness in your tone, only the playful warmth he’s missed so much, the kind that had always made his heart flutter.

Jongseong smiles in return, a gentle, peaceful expression settling over his face. For the first time in a year, he feels truly at ease. “I was caught up, sorry, baby,” he replies softly, his voice filled with love as he gazes at you. His hand squeezes yours gently, his fingers brushing over your skin as if to reassure himself that this moment is real, that you’re really here.

And then, without hesitation, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss so tender, so full of longing and relief, that it feels as though the time apart vanishes in an instant. The kiss is soft yet meaningful, filled with all the words he could never find to express how much he had missed you. It's like coming home - like slipping into the warmth of an embrace that was always meant to be. 

The sensation of your lips against his is more perfect than anything he remembers, as if all the love he ever felt for you has been distilled into this one beautiful moment. The warmth of it spreads through him, igniting his soul with a peace he hasn't felt in a long time.

Jongseong pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. His soul feeling light yet beautifully full, free from the ache that had weighed him down for so long. He finally feels whole, finally feels like he’s where he belongs - beside you, where he’s always meant to be.

For a moment, he glances over his shoulder, back at Jeyou. His son kneels by the bedside, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs, the pain of his loss fresh and raw. Jongseong watches him with a soft expression, understanding the weight of the grief that will soon settle into Jeyou’s heart. But even in his son’s sorrow, Jongseong knows he will be okay. Time will heal the wounds, and Jeyou has the strength to carry on. He has a family, a loving wife, beautiful children, and the memories of both his parents to guide him.

Jongseong’s lips curve into a sad yet hopeful smile as he watches Jeyou. ‘You’ll be alright, Jeyou' he thinks, though no words leave his lips. He knows Jeyou will heal, just as he himself did once, after his own parents passed. There will be sadness, yes, but there will also be love, laughter, and life to carry him forward.

With that comforting knowledge resting in his heart, Jongseong turns back to you, his grip on your hand tightening just a little, as if to reaffirm the bond you’ve shared for decades. The past, the pain, the loneliness - it all falls away, leaving nothing but peace and love.

“Ready?” you ask softly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar warmth, as if you’d never been apart.

Jongseong nods, a contented smile playing at his lips. “Always,” he replies, his voice steady, filled with a quiet, unwavering certainty. With your hand in his, he takes the first step forward, leaving behind the world of sorrow and stepping into forever with you.

And as the two of you walk together, the light grows brighter, the burdens of the mortal world disappearing entirely, now walking hand in hand, just as you were always meant to.

_____

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[berlinini]

name one interest other than Louis and the upcoming documentary and tour that you’re excited about or following? completely non Louis related. want to get to know my fellow louies better ☺️

ohhh! hmmmm... this is about to be very random hehe

Saturday I'm making a tiramisu for a diner with friends (eating raclette), it's the second time I'm making one and this time I have coffee liquor (last time I didn't so I had to use maple syrup liquor lol #canada)(i've been told you can also use Grand Marnier, fyi). Last time it was super good so I'm really excited to eat it again! Btw everyone says it's 'so easy to make' but they're lyiiing like! it's not hard but it's not banana bread easy!

In March, for my birthday, I'm going to spend the weekend in Montréal with some friends, going to the spa, brunch, café, yaddi yadda and going to see Inhaler! I'm really excited!! Then in September I'm going to see Arctic Monkeys in Montréal and Vancouver (and maybe Toronto)! I'm looking forward to planning some local trips for the summer - as well as my trip to Red Rocks!

As for pop culture stuff, I'm looking forward to Daisy Jones and the Six (tv series on Prime), the new season of Ted Lasso, reading Emily Saint John Mandel's new book.... I haven't kept up with upcoming movies, but whenever that nuclear bomb movie with Cillian Murphy will be out I'll go see it! Also WHEN is the next season of The Witcher coming out I NEED to see more Henry Cavill with long hair. Also random but this week I was reminded that Michael B. Jordan is a very good looking man!!

Finally one of my interests recently has been buying and trying new make up - trying to find the right combo of lipliner and lipstick. And then taking random selfies to show off (to no one) said make up.

Oh also I've been doing Wordle every day for weeks and now doing the Mini crossword too - and let me tell you, doing crosswords in your second language is quite a challenge!

So there you go! :) thanks for the lovely ask! <3

[notbecauseofvictories]

I'm re-reading the Discworld series for reasons, and honestly the most relatable part of reading these as an adult is how many of the protagonists start out being tired, used to their little routine and vaguely disgruntled by the interruption of the Plot. Sam Vimes wants to lie drunk in a gutter and absolutely doesn't want to be arresting dragons. Rincewind is yanked into every situation he's ever encountered, though he'd much rather be lying in a gutter too. (Minus the alcohol. Plus regretting everything he's ever done said witnessed or even heard about fourth-hand in his whole life.) Granny Weatherwax is deeply suspicious of foreign parts and that includes the next town over; Nanny has leaned into the armor of "nothing ever happens to jolly grannies who terrorize their daughters-in-law and make Saucy Jokes"

Only the young people don't seem to have picked up on this---and that's fortunate, because someone has to run around making things happen, if only so Vimes and Granny and Rincewind have a reason to get up (complaining bitterly the whole time) and put it all to rights. Without Carrot, Margrat, Eric, etc. these characters don't have that reason; they're likely to stay in the metaphorical gutter and keep wondering where it all went wrong or why anything has to change.

............well, that's not quite true. You get the sense that Vetinari knows how much certain people hate the Plot. And as the person sitting behind the metaphorical lighting board of Ankh-Morpork, he takes no small pleasure in forcing the Plot-haters specifically to stand up, and say some lines.

[anlxcqrd]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏!

sypnosis: suddenly making out with them/you in the middle of an argument.

contains: groping, spitting, fem!reader, unprotected sex, angry sex, swearing, p in v, oral, etc.

featuring: gojo, geto, sukuna and toji.

warning: sexual content is present in the following. read at your own risk!

GOJO SATORU

You're furious. Fumes coming out of your ears, face red in anger, your voice coming out in a very annoying pitch.

Satoru hates it.

He wants to hear your voice in a different pitch. One that doesn't give him a headache but does the opposite.

Bring him pleasure.

While you shout how careless and frustrating his actions are, he reached his boiling point and pushed you against the wall.

"Enough." His voice is dangerous, laced in venom. You were about to push him away when he smashes his lips onto yours, not even giving you a chance to mutter a single syllable.

He cups your clothed breasts, grinding his hips against yours making you forget about the whole thing. You wrap your arms around his neck and kissed him back. You moan when his hand snakes inside your pants and pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

"So wet." he muttered between kisses. "Shut up and hurry." You silently whine grinding against him harder. "Earlier you were telling me to fuck off and now.." he pauses pressing his fingers harder against your panties. "you're telling me to fuck you." He scoffs, a small grin starting to form on his lips as he pulls down your pants along with your lace panties.

"Please." You begged against his lips. He hums taking your request in consideration before pulling down his trousers. He kisses you again, lifting you up against him before slamming his cock inside you. You gasp and cling to him as he pistons in and out of you, balls slapping against your ass. "Hah—please..more faster!" You arch your back against the wall as he hits all the good spots in your tight cunt.

He writes his name on your clit and you drool in pleasure. He pounds into you relentlessly. He grips your hips tight, nails digging into your skin as he whimpers your name.

"Fuck—s'tight" he groans, burying his face onto the crook of your neck before nipping on your skin, leaving a few marks. His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier and with one last powerful thrust, he cums a riverbank in your pussy. Some even dripping down to the floor.

He pants and caresses your cheek. "You okay?" He asks and you nod, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before resting your head on his shoulder.

"I'm still not done with you yet. M'gonna make you scream my name. Got that?"

GETO SUGURU

Eyes glued to the floor, embarrassment and regret eating you alive, your boyfriend—not your mother or your father—but your boyfriend is scolding you.

Why you ask? You forgot to pick up the girls from school.

Really simple yet you failed.

How dissapointing.

You look up at him to meet his glare. And he sighs. "What am i gonna do with you.." he groans running his hand through his long hair and they fall back down beautifully. Before he could remind you again what the girl's schedule is, you cut him off with a kiss, but he fights you and rejects your kiss. "Baby, now's not the time to play around."

He says but as a very stubborn person, you ignore his protest and kissed him again. And again. Until those small pecks slowly took a heated turn and became a make out session.

And thats how you end up in your bedroom, on your knees sucking his cock for dear life and worshipping it like its the 8th wonder of the world. "Hngh—that's it baby yeahh" He groans as you bob your head up and down taking him deep in your mouth.

Your eyes welled up in tears as you suppress a gag. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face and wiped your tears. His breathing is heavy, his groans and moans are cut off. Your hands tenderly massaged his heavy balls and he almost cums. His hips move forward against your mouth.

Deeper and deeper. Almost bruising your uvula.

He moans your name as he bursts in your mouth, not being able to pull out. You swallow his cum and pant.

"Hah.."

"Got anything to say for yourself?" He raises a brow, looking down at you.

"I'm sorry for forgetting to pick up the girls." You wipe your lips.

"Uhuh"

"It was very immature of me."

"Uhuh"

"It'll never happen again. I promise."

He grips your chin making you look directly at him. "I'm giving you the whole night to make it up to me. And you're gonna buy the girls cupcakes tomorrow."

RYOMEN SUKUNA

You're used to getting scolded by your boyfriend. Usually he'd give you a 10 minute scolding but this time, it was taking more longer than usual, so you decided to pull out the big guns and interrupt his scolding with a small kiss.

"Tch stupid brat. That's not gonna change my mind." His frown goes deeper and you kiss him again. This time, deeper and sloppier.

So he decides to penetrate your tight pussy without any warning making you moan into the kiss. "Mmh s'kuna.." You whimper as he starts fucking you hard against the wall. His mouth breaks the kiss and latches his lips onto your neck, leaving purplish marks.

His pace goes faster and faster as he moves harder and harder before releasing his hot seed into your tight hole.

He puts you down before dragging you down with him on the bed. "You thought I was done with you? Humans are indeed stupid. Now, bend over."

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Uncleaned dishes on the sink, bottle of alcohol next to him, his kids haven't eaten yet. You are so fed up with his antics. But before you scold him, you make sure to cook food for his children and put them to sleep. You don't want them to hear you fighting.

"You are so childish! The fridge is empty! What were they eating!?" You shout at him. You were pretty aware that your neighbors could hear you. "I'm tired of always cleaning after your mes—!!"

He suddenly kisses you, preventing the words to come out of your mouth. He picks you up, moving to the kitchen, before bending you over the only clean counter in the house.

"I'll make it up to you, woman" He says grinding against your ass before spanking it hard. "Hey!" You exclaim. "Shh..stop talking, pretty girl." He whispers before pulling your panties down and entering your tight hole.

He groans as you clench around him. You arch your back, followed by a moan as he began to move. He grabs a fistful of your hair and makes you look at him. You kiss him, feeling his balls slapping against your ass.

"I'm close" you moan against the counter. He doesn't even say 'me too', he just cums inside you making you reach your climax as well.

He kisses your shoulder, murmuring apologies as he does so.

a/n: its a bit rushed so ignore the spelling/grammar errors! (I gtg somewhere so my bad if its trash)

[milfgyuu]

Lowlifes [M] Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader Tags: 11.5k, f2l, smut, fluff, humor, foundfamily, gang?au, 18+ Summary: Seungcheol grows tired of watching you fool around with a string of loser boyfriends and steps in when an ex shows up somewhere he's not welcome which unravels years of feelings lost in translation. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, lots of making out both in public and private, lots of touching, holding, soft manhandling, language, physical violence, mentions of injuries, broken bones, etc. not super detailed but very much implied they are in an illegal crime crew/gang/ring whatever. people are drinking in the bar and getting lit bc it's big dawg dk's bday ok. i think that covers it.

Seungcheol knows he should mind his business and he’s well aware that you can handle your own problems because you take great pleasure in reminding him of your capabilities.

That doesn’t mean he’s not watching out of the corner of his eye as you’re pacing back and forth at the far end of the bar. Your phone is glued to your ear and you’re obviously upset, throwing your free hand in the air with a string of expletives falling from your lips so clearly that he doesn’t have to hear you to make them out. It’s obvious who’s on the other end of that call and just knowing you’re still speaking to your ex irks his nerves.

He drinks down the remainder of his beer as he continues monitoring from a distance, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip with thinly veiled irritation. 

When you hang up the phone, mid-sentence, it takes everything in you not to turn and drive your fist through the wall. All the pretty promises and apologies…you knew they were empty. You knew he would disappoint you yet again. You’re more angry with yourself for being stupid enough to hope he’d come through for once but instead of being here with you and your friends, trying to work shit out, he’s running with his new crew. 

Things were always tumultuous with Jae and never going to work out, which you knew very early on, but you just loathe being wrong when you give someone a chance. It was a fool’s hope to think he might turn it around and make you feel better about letting him into your life to begin with.

The truth of the matter was that Jae just wanted to be a part of your crew and when they refused to let him in, he went and found another and tried to drag you along with him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d leave them, your family, but you tried to make things work and it bit you in the ass more times than you could count. 

You’re pissed as all hell when you slip back into the booth, right into Seungcheol’s side. He’s warm and familiar, and when his arm falls around your shoulder it tempers your rage just a touch. Another thing Jae couldn’t stand…how close the two of you were. 

Seungcheol has been by your side since you and your brother were kids. You three have been thick as thieves, literally, for so long that you were more comfortable with him than anyone else in the world. You loved, trusted, and respected Seungcheol to a fault. 

He also notoriously let’s you get away with pretty much everything. 

So, for no reason other than needing a distraction and hoping to get a rise out of him, you take the cold fresh beer he’s yet to touch right out of his hands and bring it to your lips. He makes an amused sound and pinches your shoulder where his hand rests. 

“That doesn’t belong to you,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t do anything to stop you from taking whatever you want.

You swallow another small mouthful and set the beer down, pushing it back into his grip. The little gasp of surprise you let out when his big hand catches around yours before you can let go of the glass makes Cheol grin which is an improvement from the scowl he’s been sporting for most of the night.

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been so grumpy?” you ask, leaning into him so he can actually hear you over all the noise, “You only nurse a beer when you’re in a shit mood.”

He lets you pull your hand from the cold glass but doesn’t put any distance between your bodies, he lessens it instead. You’re so close that he doesn’t even need to speak loudly for you to hear him. “I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to me.” His deep rumbling voice can be felt this closely and the alcohol in the warmth of your belly feels fizzy.

“I’ve known you longer than anyone else here,” you reason, “You can’t hide anything from me.”

Seungcheol snickers, “Oh, I bet I could.”

You don’t get the chance to try and one up him because your phone buzzes incessantly in your lap. Pulling back, you both see who is calling and Seungcheol kisses his teeth in irritation. You silence the call, sending your ex to voicemail and you’re about to reach for your own drink but another incoming call prevents you.

“You want me to answer it?” 

Seungcheol’s tone is dangerous so you silence the call again and continue reaching for your glass. “He’ll give up.”

That isn’t typically the case but you're praying this once it is because you really don’t feel like dealing with Jae’s bullshit any more than you wish to handle a pissed off Seungcheol or get a lecture from your brother. Jeonghan, over-bearing and unhinged as he is, will talk you to death when you make a poor choice as if his entire lifestyle isn’t comprised of the ones he’s made. Better to keep him out of it too.  

Cheol will give you a piece of his mind but he’s more like your big, scary guard dog and even though you’re never on the receiving end, you know he’s got a nasty bite so you’d prefer to keep the leash short and not dangle bait before him. The last thing you need is Seungcheol winding up in a cell because of you…he toes that line enough as it is.

Unfortunately, nothing is going your way tonight and your phone lights up again. Normally you’d leave it alone but another part of you, one far and detached from who is calling, still fears the guilt of missing back-to-back calls heavens forbid something has happened.

It’s the only reason you’re answering, shouting over the noise, “You’d better be dying. What the hell do you want?”

“Baby, I just need to talk to you and you’re ignoring me,” he whines back and bile gathers at the base of your throat, “I already said I was sorry! Your friends don’t even like me so I don’t know why you asked me to come. They don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“You’re not good enough for me,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, beyond caring about his feelings at this point, “You’ve proved that time and time again and I don’t need them to tell me what I already know. I’m busy. Don’t call me again.”

“Wait, wait!” he calls out to you desperately - it makes your skin crawl, “I’ll come pick you up, sweetheart. I’ll take you somewhere real nice, just us two, ok? You just stay there and I’ll come get you.”

Your face bunches up incredulously, “Don’t bother showing up now! The olive branch I extended by inviting you tonight no longer exists. I don’t want you here and I’m definitely not going anywhere just the two of us. I’m with my crew and you’re with yours,” you argue back, “That’s what you chose, so that’s what you get.”

There is silence on the end of the line and then laughter. 

“You’re lucky you’re hot because it’s a distraction from how fucking crazy you are! I swear to god, you’re just trying to piss me off so I’ll pay more attention to you! Is that what you want? Want me to drop everything to be with you? Like you don’t get enough fucking attentio-”

“Hang up,” comes a growl from your left and when you look over, Seungcheol is seething.

You don’t waste another breath except to say, “Don’t call me again,” before disconnecting..

As you tuck your phone back between your thighs you accidentally meet Jeonghan’s gaze from across the table. His eyes flick between you just having ended another call and Seungcheol who looks like he might shatter the glass in his hand at any given moment. He raises a brow, his silent way of asking if everything is okay and you wink back like it’s totally fine. No worries. Not a thing wrong or out of place. 

Which, it probably would have been if your phone hadn’t vibrated again a minute later. 

It’s just the one time so you thought it was a fluke, a misdial,  but then it buzzes again….and again. Then it’s a continually buzzing stream of new alerts so you pull your phone out and find sixteen unread messages. You don’t even bother reading them and shove the phone back between your thighs. Just. Shut. Up.

Minutes pass and you’re trying really hard to enjoy Chan’s little impromptu performance at the bar, and it sounds lovely, truly, but it’s difficult to focus on anything at all between your efforts to internally process your ex’s fucking audacity and to ignore furious heat rolling off Seungcheol’s body still so close to your own.. 

He’s wholly enraged and you can feel it.

There is maybe a solid seven minutes where your phone sits silently and you’re about to turn to speak to Jihoon and then…another text comes through. Seungcheol’s patience finally wears through and he plucks it from between your thighs before you can react. You watch quietly, not bothering to argue with him as he forces a shut down before pocketing it inside his jacket. 

You still stare at him like some admonished teenager and he stares back with a small smirk, daring you to say something. He’s not doing it to punish you - that’s the reason you don’t push back - he’s going to make sure you enjoy the night just like everyone else. He knows it’s not going to happen if you’re glued to your phone and so do you. 

Narrowing your eyes, you smirk back. “You’re giving that back later, right?”

His answering grin is troubling. “I might make you earn it.”

You toy with the idea of asking how but that line of thought is mercifully interrupted by a round of shots for the whole table being delivered and passed around. You had to wait the additional four minutes of having to sit through Hoshi giving an impromptu speech that almost dissolves to tears because he’s probably (definitely) two shots too deep and then it’s back to chaos and you’re finally free to be a part of it.

Your mood lifts tremendously over the next hour so being present in the moment with the people you love. Hao’s girlfriend Jessie passes you a sticker sheet with little glittery hearts and stars which end up all over the bar, in joshua’s hair, the tip of Jun’s nose, the bathroom walls, and some litter the dance floor. Woozi steals a couple for the back of his phone case and when you run out she supplies you with temporary tattoos. Almost everyone has at least two imprinted on their skin by the time those are run through.

When your hands are empty and your drinks all run dry, an old country western song crackles over the speakers and suddenly you’re being dragged out onto the floor by Mingyu who is hell bent on trying to replicate some old line dance you’re sure he’s fabricated in his foggy mind. Something about heels and toes, and being swung around your partner - it’s fun and somewhat terrifying when he’s nearly lifting you off the ground mid-spin. 

It’s not his fault that he’s got long legs and two left feet when he drinks so it’s mostly the two of you skipping in circles, laughing and completely out of breath, but it’s a blast. 

And then you catch something out of the corner of your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks. Mingyu doesn’t even notice that you’ve stopped until he trips over your foot, looking down at you in confusion. “You givin’ up on me?”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” 

The voice comes from Joshua in the corner, which means somehow word spread about tonight’s falling out without you knowing, and now everyone is looking at your ex, boldly and moronically standing a few feet away from you which is several feet too close for their liking. Unsurprisingly, it’s Hoshi who’s already in his face, smiling in the most menacing fashion. “This is a private event so unfortunately for you, you’ll have to fuck off.”

Jae scoffs aloud, “I don’t give a shit about your party.”

Then his scowl twists into a smirk but it’s cruel and mirthless, his eyes falling on you and Mingyu who had at some point out of habit placed his body just in front of your own.

“I came for my girl but it looks like she’s already moved on for the night, throwing herself at one of you sorry assholes because I couldn’t make time for her. Typical.”

Mingyu anticipates you trying to step around him and quickly catches you around the waist to hold you back at the same time that Seokmin stands from his chair so quickly it falls backwards and lands with a loud clatter. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he warns menacingly. 

“Watch my mouth? I’m just pointing out that facts. I should have known that’s why she suddenly didn’t want me here,” he goes on like every pair of eyes on him aren’t glaring daggers, “Would have ruined her plans to get shit-faced and open her legs for whichever one of you looked at her first.”

Jeonghan hurls himself at Jae with an opened switchblade in his hand but, thankfully, Joshua and Jihoon catch him first, and the bastard laughs knowing none of them would let Jeonghan get close enough to do something stupid. Not with witnesses around anyway.

Jae tilts his head, speaking directly to Jeonghan with his hands in his pockets and condescention dripping from his tongue, “You’re her big brother,” he pouts, just pouring salt in the wound, “You’re really just going to sit back and allow all your friends to take turns with your little sister? The crew’s designated whor-”

He barely forms a smirk before Seungcheol appears out of nowhere and suckerpunches him in the mouth so hard the crack is audible throughout the bar. Unfortunately for Jae, he’s still conscious when he hits the ground, broken teeth and blood pouring from his maw as he screams in excruciating pain. You’re sure his jaw is broken and you’re glad. 

Absolutely no one moves to help him. Hardly even bats an eye.

Then, Seungcheol draws his leg back and kicks Jae in the stomach which means he’s not done and after what your ex just said…you’re not sure anyone in your crew will step in to stop him. You move instantly, pulling yourself out of Mingyu’s protective grip to push your way to the front where you’re relieved to see Vernon already attempting to pull his friend away and he does but not before your ex’s hand is crushed under the sole of Seungcheol’s boot and the screaming starts anew. 

When you reach them, you immediately put yourself in the middle without hesitation, both hands against Seungcheol’s chest in an effort to calm him down before he loses it completely. One of his hands is still clenched at his side and you’re trying desperately to get him to look down at you. He doesn’t but his other hand comes up to sit at your hip and that’s enough of an acknowledgement that you relax, just slightly. 

You turn just your head to look down at Jae who’s never looked more pitiful. Covered in blood, dirt, snot, and tears. 

Seungcheol glares over your shoulder at the broken man on the floor, his arm now firmly seated around your body in a possessive display as he growls, “Always running your fucking mouth,” then he nods in your brother’s direction, “I should let him cut your tongue out.”

Jeonghan’s knife spins dangerously between his deft fingers like he’s itching to use it. 

He’s no longer restrained, nearly deranged, and begins stalking toward your ex who flinches away and frantically shakes his head, unable to speak with his mangled mouth. Your voice cuts clear into the charged air. “Jeonghan,” you call out and your brother stops mid-step to look up at you patiently. You shake your head at him and he concedes but the fire in his eyes is palpable. 

He smiles down at Jae, voice lilting and deadly. “You’re safe…for now,” he tilts his head, crouching down to get closer, “And don’t bother running back to your crew for help or hope for some form of retaliation,” He pauses, covering his mouth with his knife, giggling with feral delight dancing in his eyes, “I bet you didn’t tell them where you were going or who you were fucking with because they never would have let you come and I can only imagine how pissed they’re going to be when they find out.”

Jae’s brows furrow indicating his confusion and Jeonghan laughs again, wiggling his long fingers, tapping them with the point of his blade. “How do you think your ring leader lost two fingers on his right hand? That pretty scar down the side of his face? It was an improvement if you ask me,” he croons and Jae’s eyes widen with renewed horror, “Loyal little lap dog ever since and hilariously, still harboring a rather sweet crush on my darling sister. Small world, huh? We’ll be sure to let him know how you feel about her and who’s responsible for,” he waves his hand with an air of distaste, gesturing to Jae, “This.”

When Jeongan stands again, his smile falls flat and you turn your head quickly, tucking it into Cheol’s chest when you hear the crunch and subsequent thud as your brother stomps and knocks Jae out cold. It’s cruel, perhaps, but now knowing who exactly he’s been working for, you’d consider this a mercy compared to wait awaits him.

Seungcheol lifts his chin with a silent order and Junhui and Mingyu are already stepping forward to haul Jae’s unconscious form out of the bar with Joshua leisurely striding behind them, Jae’s phone in hand. They’ll dump him outside, a few blocks away. He’s lucky they’re not animals - Josh will use Jae’s phone to deliver a personal message to his crew but beyond that, he’s no longer your crew’s problem. Retaliation isn’t even a concern in this situation.

The atmosphere is obviously soured and you can still feel the rage swirling in the air. There isn’t a single member of your crew who wouldn’t have loved a turn. Even Minghao, calm and even, the most level-headed in situations like this has a particular air of cruelty about him in the moment and Jessie at his side tucks away a glittering pair of brass knuckles. You don’t have to glance around to they are waiting for an order and Cheol still has his eyes focused on the door. There are also a few patrons who are not associated with your crew, the kind who know when to mind their business, but even they seem to be waiting to be told what to do next.

So, you clear your throat and try to paint on a pretty smile.

“Pardon the interuption,” you sigh, each head in the room swiveling in your direction, “Turn the music up and order another round for the whole bar,” you glance up to find Seuncheol already looking down at you and you pat his chest, “Drinks are still on the big guy so you’d better take advantage while he’s still feeling generous.”

Thankfully, its enough to get everyone moving again, your crew falling right back into the party swing as if nothing happened. It was so easy for them to flip the switch sometimes. From volatile back to joyous - back to shots, and karaoke, and dancing. 

Seungcheol was still furious though. He doesn’t bounce back nearly as fast.

“Why don’t we take a walk out back?”

He doesn’t budge for a moment and you say his name a little more firmly this time to which he reponds, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Let’s go.”

No one asks questions or follows the two of you when he takes your hand and leads you out the back and into the crisp night air. It’s dark but the moon etches just enough light that you can still see each other easily. Seungcheol’s shoulders are tense and you watch his fists clench and unfurl methodically. They’re also red and angry after making direct contact with Jae’s teeth. The thought makes your gut roil.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you lightly grumble, “You can’t go around hospitalizing every asshole that is mean to me.”

Nothing at first and then there’s a little huff of laughter. “I can absolutely do just that, or worse. Besides, I only hit him once.”

“You broke his jaw…and probably a few ribs with that kick,” you sigh and lean back against the building, glancing up at the sky. “My point is that I know you can but that doesn’t mean you should. If you get arrested, who’s gonna take care of me?”

He smirks. “Spoiled.”

“Your fault,” you roll your eyes and really look at him. “I didn’t know he was working for Kaito, obviously. You know I would’ve cut him off completely If I had.”

“I didn’t know either,” he admits, shrugging off your surprise, “Jeonghan must have found out and kept it to himself. You know how he likes to hold onto things until its useful. Your brother is kind of a sadistic asshole sometimes.”

“Hannie is just eccentric and has weird hobbies,” you counter with a small grin, “Besides, he’s your best friend so think about what that says about you.”

He just winks in response. It’s maddening and attractive, per usual. 

“Mhm,” you hum quietly, pleased to watch him unwind in front of you, because of you. “I’m glad to see you’re in a better mood,” you tease him, “I thought for a few that you might have been mad at me.”

Cheol lets out a long sigh and digs his hands into his pockets. “I’m never mad at you.”

You cross your arms and quirk a brow at him, “That’s a blatant lie and you know it. I can’t even count how many times you’ve chewed my ass out for one thing or another.”

“The handful of times that I have yelled at you came directly after you did something dangerous,” he argues back with a short laugh, “Calling your ex, that fucker in particular, makes me question your judgement and maybe your sanity, but it’s not a reason for me to be mad at you. If anything it’s mild frustration.”

You narrow your eyes at him. It’s more than mild. “Say what you need to say, Cheol.”

He squares his shoulders, face serious much like his tone. “You’re too smart to keep choosing assholes that let you down over and over again. So, why do you do it?”

You purse your lips. “Touche,” he’s not wrong, “I am self aware enough to admit my track record is shit but there is not a lot to work with. It’s not as though our dating pool is stellar, Cheol. We’re lowlifes…we associates with other lowlifes. Nice boys like girls like me until they realize I’m not worth the trouble.”

He sputters out a laugh and steps closer, just enough to lower his voice in the echoing alley way. A touch closer and you could probably steal a little body heat you’re starting to wish for. “You are the trouble,” his eyes sparkle when he says it, like its a compliment, “Nice boys too soft for you anyway and we’re not lowlifes…we just live a little differently. You can do better,” he smirks when you roll your eyes again, “You can…you just don’t.”

You uncross your arms and spread them out before you. “Oh, any suggestions? I forgot you were a dating expert-” then you break into a laugh and Cheol is throwing his head back, knowing what’s coming. “Oh, wait! I forgot. You’ve not had a girlfriend in what? Five years? Eight?”

He snatches both your hands out of the air and pushes them back toward your chest, trying to reign in his amusement and overall urge to smother you. “You’re high maintenance enough. Why the hell would I need a girlfriend? I’ve got enough on my plate.”

You reach out and lightly punch him in the chest. “You’re a big boy, Cheol. Don’t let me hold you back. I can handle myself.”

At this, he snorts and pulls a hand out of his pocket to point at you. “You can handle yourself? Did I not pick you up in a police station two months ago for speeding…again?”

You pull off the wall with your mouth open to defend yourself and he abruptly pushes you right back against it and continues. “Who taught you how to drive and took the blame when you ran over Jeonghan’s bike when you were fifteen? Who showed up at three in the morning to pick your drunk ass up at that halloween party just so you could puke in my car and my bed…all night?” he pushes closer and lowers his voice “Who bailed you out of jail four months ago when you took a glass bottle to someone’s head in club and it turned out to be a fucking cop?”

“He looked like any other perv fondling girls on the dance floor!” You shout, eyes wide and wild as if someone would overhear, “How was I supposed to know he was a cop?! And why does it matter? He was a creep and I’d do it again!”

Seungcheol is simply dissolving into laughter, his earlier shit mood absolutely erased, and then as your volume grows he starts attempting to shush you though it’s half-assed. 

“Shhhh,” he laughs even harder, “I know, I know. I’m just teasing,” he grins when you finally crack a small smile, “Honestly, I was so proud of you that night. Took fifteen stitches to sew him back together and I hear it’s left a big ugly scar.”

You scoff in disbelief at his blatant pride. “Proud?! You chewed my ass out the entire way home.”

“Quit doing dangerous shit without me,” he shrugs unapologetically, “If you’re gonna get yourself in trouble, at least make sure I’m there to back you up.”

You roll your eyes, placing your cool hands under your chin to warm them. A cold wind whips through the alley, tossing his soft black hair around. Naturally, he steps into the wind’s path, blocking you from the worst of it because that’s what he does. It grants you the opportunity to slide a little closer and he chuckles, catching on very quickly to what you’re trying to do. Use him as both a human shield and personal heater. 

He looks down at you with that soft gaze you know is only reserved for you. As you’ve grown older together, you’ve learned that it’s best to avoid basking in it for more than a few seconds at a time. Your eyes dart down to his chest and back up again, not quite meeting his eyes this time. “It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight.”

He pulls your jacket a little tighter around you. “We can go back inside if you want.”

Whatever you want - it’s always whatever you want. Sometimes you just want to know what Seungcheol wants.

You hold eye contact with him now, just watching to see if his expression changes at all. It’s almost dizzying, staring at one another so closely. A stupid decision on your part, honestly.

“What if I asked you to take me home?”

Simple. “We can go home. Just gotta grab my key-”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Actually, I think we should go back in and sing karaoke.”

His lips pull up, always quick to pick up on the game. “What song? I love karaoke.”

“Liar. You hate karaoke,” you grin, “Why do you give into anything I ask?”

His smile is so beautiful - it always has been. 

“I do not give into everything,” he corrects you and then huffs in amusement, “Go ahead, try your luck but put some actual thought into it. You know most things are negotiable for lowlifes like us.”

“Great! So, you’ll let me drive your car tomorrow night?” you bat your eyes at him soo prettily. It’s in the bag.

He hardly budges. “No,” comes from those plump lips more clearly than you’ve ever heard it in your life and you instinctually pout like a child which amuses him. “I said put some actual thought into it. You’re a terrible driver.”

“You also said to try my luck,” you answer and it comes out more like a grumble, “Which has apparently abandoned me tonight.” 

The way you drop your shoulders and pull yourself inward knocks him off kilter and his smile drops in a split second. When he speaks again, his voice is just a touch deeper - less playful, more gentle. The change is so slight that anyone else would miss it but you’ve got that shift of his rooted in your memory at this point. 

“Your luck? Maybe,” he tips his head in consideration, close enough that he’s slipped his arms around you, big hands splayed comfortingly against the middle of your back, “I’m still here though.”

You know you should put some space in between your bodies right now but that little voice that is usually telling you to mind your boundaries is so far away in the moment that you do the opposite. Closing the distance, you look up at him as you slip your hands around his waist beneath his jacket. “Yeah, you’re always here for me. Aren’t you?”

When he dips his head closer, his tone is surprisingly serious. “I hope that’s not an actual question at this point.”

His free hand comes up to catch the back of your neck as you move to pull away, to ask him to explain or just to confirm that what you’re feeling is mercifully mutually, but you’re trapped - body painted against Seungcheol’s in the moonlight. It’s probably the most intimate position you’ve ever been in with him and your heart thrashes in your chest.

“I’ve always been right here,” his nose and lips brush your cheek as he speaks, “Patiently waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” you ask too softly but he smiles, you can feel it against your skin.

“For you to get tired of playing house,” He chides gently, “You already have a home with me and you know it.”

To say it out loud for the first time is almost staggering for Seungcheol and it’s a devastating revelation for you. Each time you tried dating someone new it had felt like a cheap replacement to distract you from the despairing thoughts of loving Seungcheol and him not loving you back, but he was there. Watching, waiting, already belonging to you in every way the entire time. 

The first sound out of your mouth is escaped laughter. It’s soft and disbelieving. 

Seungcheol smiles as he pulls back enough to see your face. “You genuinely didn’t know?”

You shake your head back and forth, still laughing, and the dimples in his cheeks pinch as he’s rolling his eyes at you, snickering to himself. “You’re the worst. I seriously thought you were playing dumb on purpose,” he groans, though his hands meet in the middle of your back now, comfortably laced like he plans on staying this way for a while. “Tell me. Who are all those idiots in there to you?”

Easy. “They’re my brothers.”

“And who am I?”

Your lips twitch and he smirks. “You’re just…Seungcheol,” saying it makes everything so plain and simple. So obvious. “You’re my Seungcheol.”

“Exactly. Have I ever felt like a brother to you? Like just a friend?” he prods, pretty white teeth still on display. He’s going to drive his point home like always. 

“Listen, jerk,” you poke him in the chest with a long sigh, “Of course you never felt like those things to me. I didn’t want to see you as just a friend and definitely not as a brother, gross,” you grimace at the thought, “But just because I felt that way about you doesn’t mean I thought you felt the same. I thought it was all very one-sided and I was just going to eventually get over it.”

He raises a single brow. “And,” he blinks pointedly, “Have you gotten over it yet?

“Unfortunately not.”

“Good.”

Good because he’s truly out of patience at this point and he’s going to make sure you know exactly how he feels without question. 

And that’s how you find yourself caged up against the wall outside the bar, Seungcheol’s lips hungirly claiming your own. His hands trace your body outside your clothing until he gets tired of the separation and you jolt feeling his cold hands against your waist beneath your shirt. There isn’t a second of stillness. He’s constantly moving, shifting, giving, taking. 

You’re no better. 

The second he kissed you it was like a flood of energy zapping each and every one of your nerves. After your lips, your arms were quickly in motion, wrapping around his neck and shoulders. Fingers threading through and tugging at his hair. He touched you and kissed you so thoroughly that despite the fact that is freezing and you’re indeed, exposed outside while your friends are just on the other side of that back door, you want more. 

More, more, more. 

Seungcheol does too. 

“Let’s go,” he mumbles between your lips, still too enthralled to pull away. 

It makes you laugh, though it’s a little delirious because he’s back to sucking and biting pretty little marks onto your neck, and you peel your eyelids open to see the fog from your breath as you speak. “It’s Seok’s birthday,” your mouth pops open with a silent gasp as he bites you again, “We can’t just leave.”

He drags himself back up and meets your eyes, grinning, “Like hell we can’t. Go get in my car,” he digs his keys out of his pocket and passes them over, “I’ll let the boys know we’re leaving.”

You stand there for a moment, keys in your outstretched hand, “Wait!” you realize he’s already opening the door. He’s so serious. “What are you going to tell them?”

He shrugs, “That we have better things to do.”

Appalling. “Seungcheol!”

Now he’s smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell them we’re leaving and going back to my place to fu-”

“SEUNGCHEOL!”

“You don’t want me to lie and you don’t want me to tell the truth,” he blinks back at you, “I am not sure what you want from me, baby.”

Well. Brain melted. If he’s calling you ‘Baby’ he can do whatever he damn well pleases. 

“I’ll be waiting,” you laugh, quickly spinning on your heel before you drag him away and he doesn’t get a chance to tell anyone you’re leaving. They probably wouldn’t notice for a few hours anyway. You shake your head, hurrying your steps toward his car. 

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity but it’s only been a few minutes and when you glance out the window he’s already hurrying back. You’re not sure if he just caught the first person he saw and told them to pass it on or if he walked in and announced it to the entire bar but you honestly don’t care. You’re maybe fifteen minutes from the garage, Cheol’s permanent (and your home away from) home. He’ll probably make it in eight with the way he drives. 

“I’m surprised to not find you in the driver’s seat,” he laughs, shutting the door and immediately bringing the car to life. 

“You’re the better driver and I’d like to get there quickly.”

Smirking, he smoothly backs out of his parking space and peels out onto the road. “I think you’re plenty good at speeding. If your record has anything to say about it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Ok, so you’re better at speeding and not getting caught. This is why I handle the other business aspects.”

His hand slips over the middle and lands on your thigh, kneading and flexing possessively. 

Watching you handle business has always intrigued and infuriated him. You’ve swindled awful men out of house and home - lining your crew’s pockets with all the spoils. It had always been a fine line between letting you work while recognizing how good you were at your job and trying not to strangle every dickhead who thought that fake smile you gave them was genuine. “Might have to retire you now.”

You pout in his direction knowing his moody comment is nothing more than his protective, if not slightly dominant, nature coming through. He’s not at all serious, even if he’d like to be. “You gonna take care of me so I don’t have to work anymore?”

He grins at the suggestion. “You know I’ll take care of you, baby. Minghao is plenty good-looking. We’ll start using him instead.”

You snort at the thought. “You’re better off sending, Jeonghan. He's pretty, charming, and he knows exactly how to get what he wants out of anyone. Why do you think I’m so good at it? Learned from the best.”

“Yeah,” Cheol turns, the wheel smoothly gliding through his hand, “I don’t typically have to worry about you stabbing or torturing anyone though.”

“Typically?” you turn in surprise, laughing, “Are you saying it has been a concern?”

He looks at you with a brow quirked. “Once or twice,” he scoffs, “You are way more like your brother than you realize.”

“Oh? You got a thing for him too?”

He snickers in response, shaking his head. “Little shit.”

He squeezes the meat of your thigh again and you realize he’s shifted his hand higher, his fingers spread wide, the pads biting into your jeans. “Quit flirting with me and drive faster.”

The only sound that follows is his quiet amusement and the roar of the engine. 

Pulling into the garage, you’re feeling too charged from the quiet, electrifying tension. It makes you feel jerky, like every movement of your body takes too much effort and every surface you touch shocks your skin. You’re already eyeing the stairs leading up to his loft but he’s taking his sweet time coming around the front of his car, waiting for the garage doors to roll back down. You want to barrel straight into him but you don’t exactly trust your legs to carry you. 

The doors close with a loud thud and he looks over at you still standing near the passenger door. “You look nervous,” he smiles softly, making his way around the car until his hands are seated over your hips. “We don’t have to-”

“No, no, that’s not it,” you huff out a laugh, “I think all the anticipation made my body stop working. Everything is tingly and sharp, and I don’t think I can move. Stop laughing at me!”

He can’t. Seungcheol is simply beside himself. You really can’t blame him. Truly, too horny and excited to walk? That’s got to be a new one. It certainly is for you. 

“I can carry you, it’s fine.”

But he is still shaking with laughter and we’re talking a whole ass flight of stairs. It’s not fine, though Cheol is already scooping you up and you're frantically trying to situate yourself on his back because that seems like the safest option and you’re already off the ground. He’s not putting you back down until you’re both behind closed doors. 

“Oh my god,” you bury your face in his shoulder as he takes the first few steps up the stairs, “This is such a bad idea!”

His hands are firmly seated beneath your thighs and your arms are wrapped so tightly around his shoulders that you’re not even shifting much as he carries you but it’s nerve wracking and honestly, a bit embarrassing. He’s incredibly proud and stubborn so there really is no hope in convincing him to put you down anyway.

“Stop panicking,” he laughs, now halfway up the stairs, “I’m not even struggling so your lack of faith in me is hurting my feelings. You act like you’ve never seen me workout. I do it for a reason.”

“I thought the reason was just because you like to beat people up.”

He huffs in amusement, “Fighting isn’t fun when you’re not winning.”

“Well, you always win so you must be having a blast,” you pinch his earlobe, rolling your eyes since he can’t catch you doing it.

When he reaches the landing, he digs into his pocket, unlocking the door with one hand and then kicking it shut once you’re both inside. Then he lets you slide down his back but before your feet actually hit the ground, he’s spinning around to pick you right back up. He laughs at the sound you make, quickly grabbing his shoulders and crossing your ankles at his back. Cheol flips the lock on the door and takes you into the small kitchen, setting you down on the counter. 

“I always win when you’re watching,” he plants his hands on either side of you, leaning closer, “You get mad at me when I don’t, so, I stopped losing.”

He looks up at you with a boyish grin and you bring your hands up, lightly touching his cheeks with your finger tips. You’ve seen his soft skin mottled with bruising more times than you cared to think about. “I don’t care about losing,” you murmur, lost in thought, “I just hate it when you get hurt.”

Tracing a finger over his right brow you remember that night years ago when he returned from a job with it split wide open, blood dripping down his pale face. Busted lips, fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and an awful limp. It was the first time you ever saw him so…broken.

You yelled at him for getting hurt but cradled his face in your hands the whole time. While Minghao sutured it closed, you continued cursing at him and everyone else who’d gone out that night but you never let go of his hand. When Joshua reset Cheol’s shoulder and he nearly passed out from the pain, you sobbed. For days you’d been furious with him yet you stayed over at his place for almost two solid weeks to take care of him. 

Putting him back together with your own two hands was the only way you could convince yourself that he was okay and from then on, you accompanied him on most jobs. Anytime things got messy, he’d come out victorious, and the very few times you weren’t there, he returned nearly unscathed. Bloodied knuckles at most. 

Your fingers must have drifted down to his lips because he kisses them and it brings you back to the present. He smiles against your fingertips and you move them under his jaw, out of the way, just so you can kiss him again. It’s soft, slow, adoring and his hands slide into place right at your lower back, his fingers pushing beneath your shirt to stroke your skin. 

When they make contact, his fingers spread wide, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. It makes your back arch, pitching your hips forward, and leaves you sitting poised for the taking but even then he takes his time. In the back of your mind, you’re sure he can feel your heat against his groin and it must be driving him just as insane as it does you.

Despite the body heat, when he pushes your shirt up a little further with his busy hands, you shiver at how cold you still are. It’s accompanied by a breathy little gasp that makes him pull away grinning, eyes still watching your mouth. “Still cold?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “Do you ever turn the heat on in this place?”

“Only when you’re here. I don’t usually need it.”

Of course not. Big manly man. 

“You’re going to need it if you’re still hoping to get my clothes off.”

Cheol pays no mind to your change in tone. The one you use to nag him to death. Instead he scoops you right off the counter, starting toward his bedroom. “I can warm you up myself just fine,” he says in an equally haughty kind of way. 

The kind of way that shuts you up because the only other thing that you could possibly manage is some pathetic giggle. He even makes a show of hanging onto to you with only one arm because he’s just so strong and you humor him with an ‘oh wooooow’ that makes him crack, laughing as he lets you slowly drop to the floor.

Your hand remains on his chest, nervously pinching at his shirt as you look around the room. You’ve been in here before just…not for anything like this. “Why does this feel normal and not normal at the same time,” you pause, realizing there is actually something different that you hadn’t noticed right away. 

Seungcheol let’s his hands drop away so you can walk over to his dresser to sate your…curiosity? Surprise? “You said I needed more personal decorations around the house,” he clears his throat, watching as you carefully lift his picture frames off the furniture to examine them, “I figured pictures were personal enough.”

There is one of Cheol as a teenager standing proudly beside his first car. Another with a few members of the crew all grinning around a card table. You loosen a soft laugh remembering that night clearly. Mingyu and Hoshi shouting over the table like banshees…all because Hoshi got caught cheating and blamed it on his favorite designated target. 

You pick up one you don’t recognize but smile at the familiar faces hanging out of the windows of a car you do recognize vaguely. The job details were hazy but you know you remember that car for some reason.

Seungcheol must have noticed you squinting at it because he comes over and stands behind you, pointing at the picture. “You don’t remember this one because you broke into a case of wine coolers the moment we were all home and accounted for,” he chuckles, his breath tickling your cheek, “Almost seven years ago now.”

“I hated waiting for you guys to come home,” you pout, pointing to the picture, “Why do I remember this car though? It’s so familiar.”

He laughs again and this time you spin toward him like the reason he is laughing is clearly painted on his face. It’s not but he fills in the blanks without prompting.

“Jeonghan caught you in the backseat of that exact car making out with Seungkwan, of all people,” Cheol grins at your grimace “We hauled you both off to bed, tucked you in, and agreed not to tell a soul. I honestly don’t think he knows about it either. You guys were wasted.”

“I definitely do not remember doing that but I did oddly stop drinking wine coolers not long after that night,” you sigh, tucking away the embarrassing story to kick your self over later.

“Guilty subconscious?” 

Shrugging off your jacket you give him a fake laugh which eventually morphs into a grin. “Were you jealous back then?”

He takes your lead, removing his clothes one piece at a time. “I was always jealous,” he admits and you let yourself stop to watch as he grabs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. It leaves him only in his jeans, belt already unbuckled. 

You’re the opposite, jeans kicked to the side, but your hands rest on your shirt, too busy looking at Seungcheol to force yourself to keep moving. He’s no better, eyes glued to your hips, to your underwear, your legs, and then his eyes bounce back up to your face, finally noticing the way you’re looking at him.

He takes a slow step forward and then another.

“I’m not perfect,” he cautions, another step closer, “I’m stubborn and jealous,” one more step until you’re touching, “I don’t like sharing. If one of the guys flirts with you, even as a joke, I’ll probably rip their head off. Might happen more than once but I’ll get over it eventually, I promise.”

“Hmm,” you smirk as he stops so closely you can feel the heat coming of his body, “A little sensitive?”

“Maybe.” His smile is so pretty and disarming because now his hands are on you, palms rubbing circles into your hips before sliding back and down over your ass. “You’ve been chipping away at my self control for over a decade and now you’re half-naked in my bedroom. I’ve hit my breaking point, baby. I’m going to be selfish with you.”

You shift just enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it in the general direction of your pants, and settle your arms around his shoulders. “I think it’s only fair because I have always been selfish with you and i’ll be so much worse now,” you grin and he let’s out a heavy, husky chuckle, tightening his thick arms around you, “I’m going to be a menace.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m still cold.”

Then he’s kissing you again, your hands quickly moving from his shoulders to his waist, pushing his jeans as low as you can before he’s forced to part and pull them the rest of the way off, laughing and stumbling with you toward the bed. You land first, quickly shuffling under the comforter for warmth and he’s right behind you, rolling you onto your back to cover you with his body. It’s an added layer of heat and you wiggle beneath him when his thigh pushes between your legs. 

Seungcheol wants everything all at once and hates having to choose but loves knowing he’ll get the opportunity to do it all in good time. For now, he can’t seem to keep away from your lips, can’t stop the noises he makes everytime you tug at his hair or scrape your nails against his back and he hopes to god they leave bright red scratches in their wake. 

He wants to watch you get shy and embarrassed when he works out with them on full display. His ego is a beast and it’s going to be riding a high for a while.

When you push up against him, he gives you a little space to quickly undo your bra before it’s tossed to the floor and he’s slipping a little lower, his face pressed against your soft, warm chest. His mouth dances from one breast to the other and you moan into the open air of his bedroom, one of your hands still rubbing his back, smoothing over his muscles mindlessly. His perfect teeth graze your nipples and you grind down against his thigh. 

He pushes it higher and repeats the action over and over until you’re steadily working yourself up and then he shifts, taking that relief away from you. Your eyes pop open in surprise but he kisses you again before you can speak and his right hand slides into your panties, wet and uncomfortably cool against your folds now that his thigh is gone. 

He doesn’t waste time, running his middle and ring finger up and down until they’re so slick-coated that there is hardly any resistance when he slips them inside you, stroking up against that spot that has you arching your back off the bed. It’s almost cruel how quickly he gets you there and even worse that he hardly touches your clit before you come, stars flashing behind your eyes. 

Seungcheol kisses your face through it, whispering sweet, filthy praises against your skin. That’s my girl, you’re so fucking good for me, baby. Sound so pretty right now, wanna hear you say my name just like that.

It’s a miracle you don’t come again the second he pushes into you because he doesn’t stop talking unless his mouth is occupied and he’s too good at multitasking. The only time you get a break from his wicked words is when he’s bottoming out and your ears are ringing so loudly that you can’t even hear him anymore. He must realize it too because his mouth was moving and now, he’s just grinning, eyes trained on your lips when he draws his hips back a little and pushes back in. 

His pace varies because he likes watching the breath get caught in your throat, breaking up the gorgeous sounds spilling from your lips. For all the taunting and talking he’s done, he’s just as worked up as you are and suddenly sits up on his knees which changes the angle. He spreads your thighs further apart, almost crudely, and props your ass a bit higher. At first, he wraps his hands around your thighs for leverage, digging his fingers into your skin but it’s not enough, he needs more. 

When he moves his hands to either side of your waist, he locks in the perfect position to go as deep as possible and the sounds you begin making are far more desperate, the pitch swinging higher and higher until he’s moaning and panting, driving into you faster and harder than before. You know you’re going to come again, and fast, so when your eyes meets his, and he purses his lips, letting spit drop from his plump lips onto your clit, he doesn’t have to tell you aloud what to do. 

You bring your own hand down, rubbing yourself until your limbs start twitching. Your breaths are so shallow and ragged, your fingertips messily bumping against the base of his cock where he plunges in and out of your cunt recklessly. He looks just as far gone as you do but the second your eyes meet, he smirks and it’s your absolute undoing. 

When you orgasm for the second time it’s so intense that all of your muscles lock up aside from your legs which shake uncontrollably and Seungcheol groans, hips stuttering when he feels the overabundance over warm liquid spilling out around his cock, splashing against his groin and stomach, dripping onto the bed. He stills, filling you so completely full that you can’t even breath without adding to the mess you’ve both created. 

It takes several long minutes of heavy panting and blinking to get your heads on straight and he still doesn’t pull out. Not even when he slumps down against you, grinning and kissing you lazily. He’s doesn’t give a single fuck about the mess, even going to so far as pumping his hips a few times, laughing when you hide your face under your arm at the lewd sounds echoing through the room. 

It’s playful at first, those half-hearted thrusts, but then his kisses turn into little nips, his mouth starts spilling those dirty words in your ear and it’s not long until you can feel him getting hard inside of you again, having never pulled out in the first place. He keeps fucking into you slowly, swallowing the sound of your whining, revelling in the way your nails no longer just rake over his skin but painfully dig into it over his shoulder blades. 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t speed up. Doesn’t give you the chance to wiggle away from him when the sharp tingling of overstimulation bleeds into, “Oh, fuck, Cheol, I’m gonna come again…fuck…”

And you do until tears stream down your face and he pulls out, flips you over, and puts it right back in, fucking you brutally until he’s moaning and cumming, and you’re nearly ready to pass out in the bed you’ve both absolutely ruined. You hear him speaking but can’t make out the words and then maybe your eyes close because you’re sated and exhausted. 

It doesn’t last long though because Seungcheol is attempting to drag you from sleep because he needs to clean you both up and change the sheets before anyone crashes for the night but you’re not budging. 

Until you feel the sensation of thick fingers pushing into your cunt and you mumble aloud, “Absolutely no…straight to jail.”

Seungcheol laughs at you having not even moved when you said it and removes his hand. “I tried waking you up nicely and you kept ignoring me. Besides, it’s all starting to spill out and I like seeing you full. If you keep laying here I’m going to end up fucking it all back in and giving you more.”

Rolling onto your back takes an incredible amount of willpower and Cheol’s helping hands because your hips are stiff as all hell. He’s patient, not pushing beyond your limits even though you’re sure he could go a few more rounds without tiring in the least. Affection swirls in your chest and it takes him by surprise when you reach a hand up and around his neck to pull him down to your lips. 

HIs body relaxes into the bed, pressing his weight more firmly into the mattress to keep the pressure light where it covers your own. He kisses you tenderly, his hands moving softly and slowly over your skin, and your mind is emptied of all but the feel of him. It’s overwhelming, how deeply attuned you are to one another and yet your body continues to demand more. 

Your kiss is broken off in a choked moan, Seungcheol’s, when your hand snakes between your bodies. He drops his forehead to yours, taking in a deep, shaky breath when you rub the head of his cock into the mess between your folds. “Again?” he questions, even as his hips push forward of their own accord. 

“Again…” you breathe out, tipping your face up to catch his bottom lip with a gentle nip, “..and again, and again, and agai-”

The delirious smile on your face drops open as he pushes back inside. Your tight, swollen cunt aches with the intrusion but each shockwave that pulses through you is laced with pointed pleasure. The effort to keep his pace even and gentle is difficult but Cheol finds very quickly that there is something incredibly arrousing about slow, deep, intimate fucking. 

He’s never experienced anything like it because he’s never had you. 

Yet here you are beneath him, clawing at his back and shoulders, moaning against his throat, and he knows it will only ever be like this with you. He knew he was ruined for all others years ago but in this moment he fully understands the weight of it. 

Seungcheol will never want anyone but you.

And when you unravel together again, you look into his eyes and know it too.

The next morning it takes an unprecidented amount of effort to wake up.

Your body aches and joints pop in too many places when you stretch your limbs as if you’ve been asleep for years and not mere hours. It’s easy to pinpoint the loss of warmth at your side, Seungcheol hardly ever sleeps in and it’s evident by the smell of fresh coffee wafting in through the open bedroom door. 

Slipping into the shirt he’d left you and your jeans from last night, you wander in and out of the bathroom and head straight to the kitchen. Cheol knows you don’t drink coffee but you do love the smell of it so the sight of a full, almost untouched pot makes you laugh. His mug sits abandoned in the sink so you rinse it out and refill it, carefully balancing the full cup in your hands as you leave his apartment and head down the stairs into the garage. 

Joshua is the first person you find, unsurprising as he never seems to get hungover no matter how much he drinks the night before. He’s sitting at one of the work tables pouring over a set of blue prints for a new job when you walk by, chuckling and swatting away your hand when you ruffle his hair. “Morning Joshie.” He waves over his shoulder as you keep walking.

It’s relatively quiet in the garage for a Saturday morning but most of your crew is probably passed out from the evening prior. You would have stayed in bed longer too if someone wasn’t missing from it - someone you still haven’t found. Instead, you happen upon Jeonghan and Mingyu working on an engine…you think…again, not your expertise. 

“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan drawls as he catches you approaching from the corner of his eye, “If it’s not my darling little sister,” he grins and leans over to kiss your cheek when you stop in front of him, “Whatever are you doing here, in the garage, smelling like sex and coffee, so early on this delightful Saturday morning?”

You give your brother a deadpan stare and Mingyu snickers behind him. 

“Where’s Cheol?”

“Bringing in another delivery with Jun in the back,” Mingyu mumbles half-way under the hood with tools in hand, “Should be finishing up soon.”

Jeonghan leans against the car and crosses his arms. “Is this an official thing?”

You know he’s only asking because he loves you both so deeply that if there were any chance of it being a fling where feelings are inevitably going to be trampled, he’s putting an end to it immediately. He’s so fiercely protective that he’d step in to protect you from yourselves without hesitation.

“That man would have to be thirty feet deep in the ground to leave me.”

“Isn’t the saying ‘six-feet deep’?” Mingyu laughs, still focusing on his task.

“I said what I said and honestly thirty-feet still might not be enough - you’ll probably have to bury me with him.”

Jeonghan relaxes, shrugging off the tension in his body with a loose laugh. “Good to know,” he grins, eyes soft and gentle once more, “I always knew you’d end up together once you both gave up the world’s most stubborn ass competition.”

He’s not wrong. Who knew a little communication could go a long way? Certainly not you and Cheol.

Two cars pull up outside the open garage door across the way and you wiggle your fingers in greeting when Vernon, Hoshi, Wonwoo and Jihoon all pop out looking absolutely exhausted. You turn and set Cheol’s mug down on the counter behind you and pull out a stool to take a seat and hang out. 

“Wonwoo wouldn’t let us stop for breakfast please tell me there are still leftovers from lunch in the fridge,” Hoshi complains loudly. He absolutely still looks a little drunk.

Jihoon shoves him to the side and makes a beeline for the fridge around the corner, the two of them cursing and bickering as they go. Wonwoo and Vernon pull up a stool next to you and now you’re feeling a little guilty for only bringing one mug down. 

“Where’s Cheol?” Wonwoo asks, pushing his glasses up and shaking out his messy hair.

Jeonghan tosses a thumb in his direction, “Delivery.”

Wonwoo nods and Vernon taps your shoulder. “Hey, you’re here kinda early. Where did you go last night? Lost you at some point.”

Your cheeks heat. There are some of the guys you make crude jokes with and some you don’t - both Vernon and Wonwoo being on one side while Mingyu and Jeonghan are on the opposite. “Oh, I uhhh-”

“Notice anyone else missing last night?”

“Jeonghan-”

Vernon’s brows pinch together in thought. Mingyu stands up, setting down his tools before wiping his hands on his pants. “You know,” he grins, “Guy who lives in a garage, goofy laugh, kinda mean…”

Wonwoo breaks out in hysterics and Vernon’s grin is entirely visible though you’re sure he is trying to make it disappear when he says, “Oh! Oh okay…yeah…that makes sense. So, you’re like…yeah?”

You snort in response nodding your head. “Mhm, we’re like yeah.”

“Who’s like what?” Hoshi says around a mouthful, coming up to join you with Jihoon stomping past him empty-handed to go help Joshua. 

“Her and Cheol finally got together,” Wonwoo supplies and Hoshi’s eyes light up.

“Oh my god!!! That’s so exciting!” he dances over and drops his food on the counter, which Mingyu picks up to polish off while he’s distracted. Hoshi wraps you in a bear hug you try to fight off and then you’re up and out of your chair being squeezed and swung around, “This is such great news!!!”

Thwap.

Hoshi blinks and you slide to the floor. When he touches the back of his head, it’s wet and he turns to find a rag on the ground. It takes less than two seconds to figure out who threw it because it’s Seungcheol’s thundering voice that calls out, “Put her down and get to work, asshole.”

“Asshole?” Hoshi mutters, kicking the rag, “I’m the asshole?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Oh, he’s going to be unbearable,” he smacks your arm lightly, “Hey, do us all a favor. Take him back upstairs and tie him up or something would ya?”

“Inappropriate,” you snort just before big familiar arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Morning baby,” he breathes against your hair before he’s planting a hot kiss on the side of your neck, “Sleep well?”

Everyone very quickly finds a way to mind their own business. 

“Slept just fine,” you smile, turning your head to kiss him properly. “Now apologize to Hoshi, you beast.”

He sighs, dropping his head dramatically against your shoulder. “Hoshi!” he shouts across the way, “I’m sorry. Order breakfast for everyone on me.”

“All is forgiven, bro!” Hoshi salutes him in response and the others start gathering to make their requests. Food fixes almost anything in this house.

Cheol laughs and kisses your hair. “Happy?”

“Very,” you hum, turning in his arms, “Brought you coffee but it might be cold by now.”

“That was nice of you.” Now that you’re finally getting a good look at him you see he’s wearing the dark blue cargo pant, white tank top combo that drives you fucking insane. You’ll sit for literal hours on end just to watch him work on the cars in that exact outfit. Even better when he’s got oil smatterings here and there. The thick leather gloves he sometimes has hanging out of his back posket when not in use. 

Mechanic Seungcheol is one of your favorite fantasies sprung to life.

“I wasn’t doing it out of the kindness of my own heart,” you retort, “I was trying to get something out of you in return.”

“Oh?” he smirks, “Like what?”

“Kiiiinda hoping I’d get you back upstairs for a few favors.”

His hands slide along your arms until he’s managed to bring them up and around his neck and then he’s got you caged in, clasping his own low on your back. “I’m sure we can make time for that,” he mumbles along the seam of your lips, brazenly, and very openly making out with you in the next breath like there aren’t several people in the garage along with you.

“MAKE IT QUICK. WE’VE GOT SHIT TO DO.”

Cheol tosses up a middle finger in Jeonghan’s general direction and shouts back, “Well, I’ve got your sister to do and that’s more important. Work can wait.” Your mouth pops open in amusement and he takes advantage of your distraction to hoist you up into his arms, making his way toward the stairs to his apartment again. When he speaks again, it’s only loud enough for you, “I think I’ve got just enough time to fuck you over the kitchen counter and make a fresh pot of coffee before I have to come back down, whoop your brother’s ass, and get back to work.”

“Your time management skills are-” you cling onto him a little tighter as he starts up the steps, “- very impressive.”

“You should see my oral presentation skills.”

With that in mind, you lean over his shoulder and shout down, “YOU CAN HAVE HIM BACK IN AN HOUR.”

“AN HOUR?!” Jeonghan hollers back, absolutely exasperated because he knows this is going to be an ongoing battle for months if not years on end. “WHAT PART OF WE GOT SHIT TO DO DID YOU TWO NOT UNDERSTAND?”

Cheol sighs and puts you down to open the door, hanging over the railing with a flat look on his face. “I’ll rip the transmission out of your car with my bare hands and toss it into the river if you open this door.”

Jeonghan scoffs but Cheol grins and cuts him off, “And then i’ll take the knife in your glovebox and split open every individual stitch in the interior.”

Those are serious fighting words between car guys. You think.

Jeonghan narrows his eyes and then huffs, hands on his hips. “You guys are the worst.”

Cheol blows your brother a kiss as you drag him inside and you can catch a hint of amusement on Jeonghan’s face just before you seal yourselves inside. 

You’re okay with being the worst, so is Seungcheol. 

Maybe being a couple of lowlifes isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Thanks for reading! 💖

SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

[sirenhub]

LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE

SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!

CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!

SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.

slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.

a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.

aerial shoot, his favorite.

but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.

slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.

he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.

he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.

hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.

looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.

a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.

he was lonely.

despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.

the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.

he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.

the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.

the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.

he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.

he wasn’t happy.

leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.

his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.

so, that left him with one more option.

opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.

pornhub.com

this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.

his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.

he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.

he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.

opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.

it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.

college girl masturbates solo :)

it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.

there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.

the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.

he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.

he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.

leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.

after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.

it was slick, glistening.

his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.

leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.

he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.

it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.

his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.

his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.

the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.

oh, how he missed it.

as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.

his cock twitched, fuck.

you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.

pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..

you’re pathetic leon.

even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.

he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.

his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.

a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.

his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.

holy fuck.

his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.

leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.

he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.

he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.

looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.

your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?

he sucked in a breath and gulped.

him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.

it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.

but it wasn’t, and he knew that.

sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.

the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.

choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.

he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.

your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.

his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.

it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.

his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.

he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.

he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—

his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.

you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.

not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.

it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.

leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.

running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.

reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.

no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.

he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.

instagram.

leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.

you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.

you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.

after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.

leon wasn’t sick.

he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.

he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.

sick. you are sick.

leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.

the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.

he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.

at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.

this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.

occasionally, you participated in live streams.

it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.

that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.

in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.

he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.

tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.

‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.

you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.

leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.

get a fucking grip.

your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.

his mouth went dry when you addressed him.

he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.

SKENNEDY001

okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?

slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.

but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?

“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.

leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.

he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.

‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.

his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.

he was obsessed with you.

the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?

the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.

“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.

leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.

you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.

he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.

the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.

luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.

he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.

the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.

not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.

what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.

‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’

leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.

running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.

‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’

he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.

‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’

your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.

‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’

he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.

‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’

oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?

‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.

the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.

leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.

he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.

nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.

≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.

he couldn’t expose himself.

but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.

you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.

he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.

once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.

entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?

he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.

he couldn’t go into this sober.

letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.

‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’

why would he say that?

leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.

after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.

‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’

he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.

leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.

he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.

‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.

he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.

leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.

‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’

‘take your time.’

during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.

he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.

moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.

reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.

he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.

feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.

‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.

he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.

‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.

looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.

‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.

okay, good.

eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.

“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.

taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.

leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.

he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.

why was it so easy to get hard for you?

“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.

leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.

you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.

leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.

“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.

a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.

leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.

humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.

you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.

“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.

you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.

so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.

“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.

leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.

leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.

“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.

turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.

you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.

turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.

leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.

you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.

“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.

you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.

“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.

you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?

a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.

reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.

his camera turned on and he had no idea.

you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.

he was hot.

like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.

this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.

you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.

he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.

“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.

leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.

he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.

leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.

your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.

this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.

only him.

“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.

your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.

leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?

this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.

leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.

a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?

you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.

leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.

but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.

“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.

leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.

he was so cute.

“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.

each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.

you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.

he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.

“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.

leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.

“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.

you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.

this was so hot.

leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.

the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.

while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.

leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.

panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.

“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.

your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.

rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.

he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.

if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.

by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.

leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.

it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.

your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.

god.

leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.

this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.

watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.

metaphorically, of course.

you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.

he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.

he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.

slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.

your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.

squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.

eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.

“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.

looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.

plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.

“so, tell me more about you, leon.”

≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.

the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.

he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.

he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.

he missed you.

reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.

hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.

it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.

the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.

it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.

had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.

taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.

‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’

╰ TAGS: @gor3-hound @rigorwhoring @nilpill @ottermarbles @argreion @angelstargel @lysa1201-saucy @dilfsmaid @sweets3rial @doja-rat16 @bababsthings @frillyyyy @nyxxoxo @admirxation @gcldtom @ashrillvenheim @seraphicsuicides @altissia-09 @ghostier0t @biohazard-4ever @leonsgirl-111 @th3lma @squazmine @dakotali @neverg0nnagivey0uup @brblnc @emodanoriddler @v1ccc @dear-satan @skydisneylover @calansic @acidaciruela @vkurtmien @shiawaseorii @fxnfandxmmp4 @valentin78pon @antagonize-me-motherfucker

[hoshifighting]

Urban Hearts, Rural Souls

"Never had it this good before, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath him. "And what about those boys from your city?" he taunted. "Do they fuck you this good? Huh?"

— Synopsis: Where you are a Rich Girl abruptly sent to the countryside by your worried parents, there, you meet Mingyu, the farmer's son, who introduces you to something that defies the shallow trappings of city living. — WC: 10.6k — WARNINGS: Smut, angst, fluff, oral (f. and m. receiving), intense sex, crying, dirty talk, cum eating, g'spot stimulation, wet pussy and etc. — Reader! Rich Spoiled Girl X Farmer! Mingyu

Wrapped in designer clothes from head to toe, strutting around in those expensive heels like you owned the world. And maybe you did, in a way.  You were the kind of girl who had it all – overpriced clothes hanging in your closet like trophies, expensive cars parked in the driveway like shiny jewels, and a life filled to the brim with luxury. Your every whim was catered to, your desires instantly fulfilled with the swipe of a credit card.

But behind all the glitz and glamour, there was a gnawing emptiness that even the shiniest baubles couldn't fill. Your parents, bless their worried hearts, watched from the sidelines, knowing they had a hand in creating this materialistic monster. They'd given you everything you ever wanted, but maybe they didn't realize they were also giving you a one-way ticket to blindness.

You were always craving the next big thing, the newest gadget, the trendiest outfit. But in your quest for more, you lost sight of what truly mattered. Genuine connections, simple pleasures, the beauty of a sunset—those things seemed to fade into the background against the allure of luxury.

Your parents, busy with their own pursuits of wealth and success, rarely saw you at home. They provided you with everything money could buy, but as time passed, they began to realize that they had unwittingly traded your presence for material possessions.

"Sorry, I can't go to this dinner, I already promised my friend that I would club with her tonight," you said, leaving the keys of a Porsche in your hands, closing the door.

"Sorry, I'm going shopping today," you said, looking at yourself in the mirror, leaving and closing the door again.

"Sorry, I'm going to hang out with Jisoo today," you said, once more leaving the keys of a Porsche in your hands, closing the door.

Your parents tried to intervene, gently nudging you towards a more meaningful existence. But you brushed off their concerns, too wrapped up in your own world of excess to see the wisdom in their words. After all, why settle for less when you could have it all?

Yet, deep down, a small voice whispered that maybe there was more to life than the next shopping spree or exclusive event. Maybe true happiness wasn't found in the gleam of a diamond or the purr of a sports car engine.

There you were, lounging by the pool with your phone in hand, completely engrossed in the digital medias. The sun beat down, casting shimmering reflections on the water's surface as you scrolled and tapped away, oblivious to everything else around you.

Suddenly, your mom emerged from the doorway, her expression serious yet gentle as she made her way towards you. She called out your name, her voice cutting through the haze of your screen-induced trance. With a sigh, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from your phone, realizing that this was no ordinary interruption.

She explained that it was time for a chat, a real one, away from the distractions of social media and status updates. You hesitated for a moment.

Eventually, you acquiesced, dragging yourself out of the pool and wrapping a robe around your damp skin. As you followed your mom back into the house, you couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that settled in the pit of your stomach. 

You found your parents sitting at the dining table, their expressions unusually serious. With a nonchalant air, you plopped down in front of them, taking a leisurely sip of your juice.

Your dad cleared his throat, his tone carrying a weight of concern. "Sweetheart, we need to talk. Your mom and I have been growing increasingly worried about you."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Here we go again, you thought, another lecture about how you only cared about material things.

Your mom chimed in, her voice gentle but firm. "We know you might not like what we have to say, but we truly believe it's for the best."

You raised an eyebrow, already anticipating the worst. "Let me guess, you're cutting off my credit cards?"

Your dad let out a humorless scoff. "As tempting as that may sound, no. But we have decided that it's time for you to take a break from this lifestyle. You need to step back and reassess what truly matters in life."

You couldn't help but scoff, the corners of your mouth twisting into a mocking smile. "Let me guess, you're sending me to some remote island resort to 'find myself'?"

Your parents exchanged a glance before your dad spoke again, his tone grave. "Actually, we've arranged for you to spend some time in the countryside. In the home of some dear friends of ours. It'll be a chance for you to unwind, disconnect, and maybe gain some perspective."

You leaned back in your chair, disbelief written all over your face. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously sending me to some rustic farm in the middle of nowhere?"

But as you looked into their unwavering gazes, you realized they weren't joking. They were dead serious about this. And suddenly, the prospect of trading designer labels for mud-stained boots didn't seem so far-fetched after all.

Your dad's words hit you like a ton of bricks. "Wait, you're telling me you didn't even mention this earlier?" you exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. "This has to be some kind of joke, right? You can tell me now."

But before your dad could respond, his phone rang, interrupting the conversation. As he answered, you stood there dumbfounded, watching him hurriedly talk to the person on the other end.

"Oh hello, yes yes, she's traveling today. She's getting ready. Thank you so much, Mr. Kim," your dad said into the phone before hanging up.

You felt a rush of panic as reality set in. They were serious. You were really being whisked away to some countryside retreat without so much as a warning.

Rushing to your room, you flung open your largest suitcase, hastily stuffing it with your best clothes, your mind still reeling from the sudden turn of events. Designer dresses and high heels made way for practical boots and sturdy jackets, a stark departure from your usual wardrobe.

You barely had time to indulge in one last comforting soak in your oversized tub before the reality of the situation hit you like a splash of cold water. Sitting on the couch, arms crossed, your suitcase stood by your side like a silent sentinel.

Despite your indignation and discomfort with the whole situation, you knew deep down that your parents only wanted what was best for you. But seriously, how did they think this was a good idea? Just the thought of mosquitoes made you shiver involuntarily.

As you heard the honk from the driveway, you begrudgingly grabbed your suitcase and followed your parents to the door. Stepping outside, you were met with a man who greeted you with a warm smile, remarking on how much you had grown. He was the friend of your father, the same one you had seen in old family photos.

Despite your lingering resentment, you treated him with the utmost politeness. After all, he was just following your parents' instructions, and he seemed genuinely kind.

Your parents bid you farewell, their seriousness about the whole ordeal evident in their expressions. But before you could climb into the car, your mom stopped you, snatching your phone from your hands. You scoffed incredulously, "What, no phone too?"

She simply nodded, stating matter-of-factly, "There's no internet anyway."

With a frustrated sigh, you allowed yourself to be pushed into the car, the middle-aged man already taking your suitcase and stowing it in the trunk. As the car pulled away from the driveway, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of wilderness adventure awaited you in the countryside.

As the car rolled along the winding countryside roads, Mr. Kim struck up a conversation with you, perhaps sensing your unease.

"So, your parents tell me you're not too thrilled about this little getaway," he began, his tone light and friendly.

You glanced at him, unsure of how much to reveal. "Yeah, you could say that. I'm more of a city person, you know? This whole countryside thing isn't really my scene."

He chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I figured as much. But hey, sometimes it's good to shake things up a bit, right? You might find you enjoy it more than you think."

You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I highly doubt that."

Undeterred, he continued, asking you about your life in the city, your favorite hangouts, and the luxuries you were accustomed to. With each response, he laughed, seemingly amused by the stark contrast between your world and the one you were about to enter.

"You know," he said with a grin, "sometimes it's the unexpected experiences that end up being the most memorable. Who knows, you might discover a whole new side of yourself out here."

As the car rumbled along the road for what felt like hours, the familiar hum of the city fading into the distance, you watched as the asphalt gradually transformed into a dusty dirt road. The scenery changed from towering skyscrapers to vast expanses of green fields and rolling hills.

Finally, the car came to a stop, and the man turned to you with a smile. "Well, we're here," he announced cheerfully.

You peered out the window, taking in your surroundings. Before you stretched acres of farmland, dotted with quaint wooden buildings and surrounded by lush vegetation.

This was certainly a far cry from the luxury hotels and high-rise penthouses you were accustomed to, but there was a certain allure to its simplicity that intrigued you.

Mr. Kim gets out of the car, saying he's going to ask for help with your suitcases, and disappears into the house.

Stepping out of the car that had transported you from the city to the countryside, with a disdainful glance around, you smoothed down your summer dress and adjusted your sunglasses, attempting to shield yourself from the glaring sun.

Just as you were about to take a step forward, your designer boots caught on a loose cobblestone, and you stumbled clumsily, arms flailing wildly as you tried to regain your balance.

With a loud yelp, you crashed ungracefully into a pile of hay, your dress now adorned with specks of dirt and straw. Uttering a few curses under your breath, you began to clean yourself off, feeling thoroughly irritated by the whole debacle.

To your surprise, you heard a sincere laugh echoing from somewhere nearby. "Smooth entrance." came the amused voice.

Startled, you looked up to see a tall, muscular guy leaning against the porch, clad in a simple white tank top and worn jeans. He had the rugged look of someone who spent their days working the land, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at his false amused expression.

"Very funny," you muttered, shooting him a withering glare as you brushed off the last of the hay from your dress.

The guy smirked at your retort, "Hey, don't blame me for your lack of grace," he teased, stepping closer to you.

You crossed your arms defensively, shooting back, "Well, don't blame me for your lack of fashion sense."

He chuckled, unfazed by your jab. "Fashion sense? Please. I'd take practicality over designer labels any day."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Easy for you to say when you probably haven't stepped foot in a city in years."

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head, challenging you. "And what's wrong with that? Country life has its perks, you know. Fresh air, wide open spaces... not to mention, real food."

You narrowed your eyes, feeling a surge of defiance. "Oh, please. I'll take a five-star restaurant over your farm-to-table nonsense any day."

With a shrug, he flashed you a knowing grin. "We'll see about that."

He furrows his eyebrows as he reaches for your suitcases, grunting slightly as he lifts them from the ground. "What the hell are you packing in here, bricks?" he mutters, struggling slightly under the weight. 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatics. With his broad shoulders and muscular arms, it was obvious he could easily handle the weight. But instead, he seemed intent on putting on a show of struggle.

As he hoisted the suitcases up, you glanced at his impressive physique, a stark contrast to your own slender frame. "Oh, I don't know," you replied casually, masking your amusement. "Maybe you're just not as strong as you think you are."

His expression darkened at your taunt, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he begrudgingly followed you towards the house. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, his voice tinged with annoyance.

You couldn't resist a small smirk as you walked ahead, enjoying the satisfaction of getting the last word in.

As you approach the quaint farmhouse, nestled amidst the serene countryside, you're greeted by a picturesque scene straight out of a storybook. Lush greenery and vibrant foliage surround the charming abode, a small porch extends from the front of the house, its weathered floorboards worn smooth by years of use, a few well-worn rocking chairs moving with the breeze. 

You glanced around the bedroom, taking note of the meticulously prepared bed with towels neatly arranged on top. Despite your initial skepticism, it was clear that some effort had been put into making you feel welcome.

Mingyu stood beside you, his expression unreadable as he watched your reaction. For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the air thick with tension.

Just then, Mr. Kim appeared in the doorway, a warm smile on his face. "Ah, I see you've met my son, Mingyu," he said, placing a hand on Mingyu's shoulder. "He'll be helping out around here during your stay."

Mingyu flashed you a half-hearted smile, his expression tinged with a hint of mockery. "Yeah, we had the great pleasure of meeting earlier," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "Oh yes, it was truly unforgettable," you replied, matching his mocking tone. "I especially enjoyed the part where I ended up covered in hay."

Mr. Kim chuckled at the banter between you and his son, clearly amused by the exchange. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine," he said with a knowing smile, before leaving you to settle in.

Feeling a bit lost and unsure of what to do with yourself, you decided to head back to the living room. As you entered, you spotted Mingyu in the kitchen, busy mixing something on the stove, while a woman arranged antique stamped dishes on the table.

Her warm smile drew your attention, and you couldn't help but admire her grace as she went about her tasks. When she noticed your presence, she immediately set aside her cooking apron and approached you, enveloping you in a tight hug.

You returned the gesture, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you in her embrace. She introduced herself as Mrs. Kim, and her genuine compliment about your appearance made you blush, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

Before you could respond, you caught Mingyu's glance from across the room. When your eyes met his, he quickly looked away, returning his focus to the task at hand.

Feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected attention, you cleared your throat and glanced around the room, searching for something to say. "Thank you, Mrs. Kim" 

Ah, but you missed your 16-seat table. Your silvered forks and knives…

She beamed at your words, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Oh, it's nothing, dear. Just a simple meal to welcome you to our home," she said warmly, patting your arm affectionately.

Despite your initial frustration and discomfort with the abrupt change in scenery and the unfamiliar accents surrounding you, you couldn't deny the genuine warmth and hospitality of the Kims. As you observed Mrs. Kim bustling around the kitchen and Mingyu's earnest efforts to make you feel welcome, a sense of guilt began to gnaw at you.

As Mrs. Kim served you a plate of food, you couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the array of dishes laid out before you. Unsure of what to pick, you glanced around nervously, feeling the weight of everyone's expectant gazes upon you.

Taking a tentative first bite, the food was simple yet bursting with deliciousness, each bite infused with a warmth and comfort that you hadn't realized you were craving.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you savored the food, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Wow, this is really good," you exclaimed, unable to hide your delight.

The Kims exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening at your enthusiastic reaction. It was clear that they were pleased to see you enjoying their home-cooked meal.

As you continued to eat, you found yourself digging in with gusto, savoring every bite as if it were the most delicious thing you had ever tasted. It was a stark contrast to the fast food and gourmet dishes you were accustomed to in the city, and yet, there was something undeniably special about this homemade meal made with love.

Mingyu and his dad shared subtle, satisfied smiles, their eyes twinkling with amusement as they watched you devouring the food with such enthusiasm. It was clear that they were pleased to see you embracing their culinary traditions and finding joy in the simple pleasures, for the first time? 

As you rolled up your sleeves and began to help with the dishes, Mingyu appeared at your side with a teasing smirk. "Well, I'm surprised to see you know how to wash a plate," he remarked, his tone laced with playful incredulity.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his playful jab. "Oh, please. It's not like I've never washed a dish before," you retorted, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary.

Mingyu chuckled at your defensive tone, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm just surprised, is all. Figured someone with nails as pristine as yours would be afraid to get them dirty," he teased, gesturing to your perfectly manicured hands.

You shot him a pointed look, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice. "My nails will be just fine, thank you very much." you replied curtly.

After finishing up with the dishes, you managed to steal a quiet moment for yourself. Making your way to the bathroom, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there was hot water available, despite being in the midst of a countryside farm. And as you drifted off to sleep, the sound of crickets chirping outside lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

As the sun streamed through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow, you slowly stirred from your sleep, feeling more refreshed than you had in ages. The sound of a rooster crowing in the distance filled the air, a gentle reminder that you were far from the hustle and bustle of city life.

Just as you were about to stretch, you heard a familiar voice at your door. Groaning inwardly, you sat up, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you focused on the figure standing in the doorway.

There stood Mingyu, holding a pair of buckets in his hands. "Hey, sleepyhead," he called out, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Time to rise and shine. We've got a cow to milk."

You blinked in disbelief, your mind struggling to process the request. Milk a cow? Surely he must be joking. But as you glanced out the window and saw the sun rising higher in the sky, and the way he stood at the door, you realized that he was serious.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, steeling yourself for the unfamiliar task ahead. 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Mingyu's teasing remark as he caressed the cow with practiced ease. "Yeah, well, I figured I'd take precautions after yesterday's little incident," you retorted, gesturing to your brightly colored galoshes.

Mingyu chuckled at your response, shaking his head in amusement. "Fair enough," he conceded, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "But I've got to admit, you look a bit out of place here on the farm."

You huffed indignantly, feeling a pang of annoyance at his comment. "And what exactly am I supposed to look like?" you shot back, crossing your arms defensively. "Peppa Pig jumping in muddy puddles?"

Mingyu's laughter rang out loud and clear, the sound echoing through the barn as he shook his head incredulously. "Hey, I'm just saying, those boots aren't exactly farm chic," he replied, unable to hide his amusement.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. As Mingyu nodded towards the bucket under the cow and the small stool nearby, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead.

As you continued to milk the cow with gentle, tentative strokes, Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at your cautious approach. "If you keep going at this pace, we'll be here until evening," he teased, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You couldn't help but sulk at his teasing, feeling a pang of self-doubt creeping in. "I'm just afraid of hurting her," you admitted softly, glancing down at the cow's udders with concern.

Mingyu rolled his eyes playfully, squatting down behind you and gently taking your hands in his. "Here, let me show you," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he guided your movements.

As his warm hands enveloped yours, you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through you, you couldn't help but be drawn to the way his chest pressed against your back, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered instructions. Lost in the sensation of his touch, you found yourself forgetting about the task at hand, your focus shifting entirely to him. 

"See? It's not so hard, is it?" Mingyu's voice broke through your thoughts, his tone gentle and encouraging.

Oh, it sure is, with those arms around you.

You nodded slowly, still feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected closeness between you. "Yeah, I guess not."

As you watched the chickens with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unable to find the words to express your uncertainty.

Noticing your hesitation, Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at your predicament. "Looks like it's time to collect some eggs," he remarked, gesturing towards the coop with a smirk.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the task ahead and stepped into the coop, determined to prove that you were capable of handling farm chores. But as soon as you entered, the chickens seemed to sense your unease and began to peck at your legs and feet, their sharp beaks causing you to yelp in surprise.

Jumping back in alarm, you flailed your arms wildly, trying to fend off the feathery assailants as Mingyu looked on, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, that's one way to get the eggs," he quipped, unable to suppress his laughter at your antics.

Feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed, you quickly retreated from the coop, shooting Mingyu a sheepish look. "I think I'll leave the egg collecting to the experts," you muttered, feeling defeated.

Mingyu grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he watched you dust yourself off. "Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of it," he teased, reaching for the basket and heading towards the coop with a knowing smirk.

Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of you sprawled out on the sofa, your face flushed from the sun and your body looking utterly exhausted. His mom joined in with a soft giggle, amused by your worn-out appearance.

"Looks like someone had quite the day," Mingyu remarked with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed you from across the room.

You let out a tired groan, your limbs feeling heavy and your muscles aching from the day's activities. "I feel like I've run a marathon," you admitted with a weary smile, unable to hide the exhaustion in your voice.

Mingyu's mom nodded in understanding, her eyes filled with warmth and affection as she looked at you. "It takes some getting used to, but you'll adjust," she reassured you, her voice gentle and reassuring.

Mingyu flashed you a reassuring smile, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. "Yeah, you'll get used to it," he echoed, his voice soft and reassuring.

As you lay on the sofa, your mind drifted to thoughts of your friends back in the city. You could already imagine their laughter and teasing when they heard about your countryside misadventures.

The image of them laughing at the idea of you "touching cow's tits" made you cringe, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of being the subject of their jokes. And the mental image of you being chased by chickens while wearing bright yellow galoshes instead of your usual designer boots was almost too much to bear.

As you stood face to face with the towering horse, a surge of determination coursed through you. You were determined to prove to Mingyu that you were capable of handling any challenge that came your way, no matter how unfamiliar or daunting.

With a defiant glare, you met Mingyu's gaze head-on, refusing to back down from the challenge before you. "Did you know that horseback riding is expensive enough for me to know?" you retorted, your voice laced with confidence.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow at your defiant remark, his hands on his hips as he regarded you with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. "Is this a dare?" he asked, a hint of challenge in his tone.

You smirked, your eyes gleaming with determination. "It's not a dare if I'm going to win," you replied boldly, your confidence unwavering.

Mingyu chuckled at your bravado, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, we'll see about that," he replied with a smirk of his own. "But I'll have you know, a farmer can ride way better than a rich girly who did hipstism."

As you settled into the saddle and urged the horse forward, you felt a surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins. With each powerful stride of the horse beneath you, you felt a sense of connection and freedom unlike anything you had ever experienced.

Glancing back at Mingyu, who was hot on your heels, you couldn't help but smirk at the competitive gleam in his eye. With a determined flick of the reins, you urged your horse to pick up the pace, the wind whipping through your hair as you galloped across the long field.

Feeling the rhythm of the horse's movements beneath you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you rode faster and faster, the thrill of the chase driving you forward.

But as you approached the towering mount of straw ahead, Mingyu's voice rang out behind you, announcing the end of the race. "This is it!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the wind.

You turned to face him with a confident smile, your eyes sparkling with determination. "Bet," you replied, your voice filled with certainty as you prepared to take on the challenge ahead.

s you crossed the finish line first, a victorious grin spread across your face. You patted the horse affectionately, thanking it for its speed and cooperation, a playful twinkle in your eye as if expecting a response from the animal.

Mingyu appeared right behind you, his expression a mixture of surprise and begrudging admiration. He glanced at you, clearly not wanting to give the impression that he was impressed, but failing miserably.

You couldn't help but laugh at his unsuccessfully concealed expression, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Looks like I win," you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to gloat a little.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Beginner's luck," he muttered, trying to brush off his defeat with a nonchalant shrug.

But you could see through his facade, and you knew that deep down, he was impressed by your riding skills. "Sure, keep telling yourself that," you replied with a playful wink, reveling in your victory.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu and his parents couldn't help but notice a change in you. At first, they were surprised by your transformation. They had expected you to grow restless and bored, eager to return to the comforts of city life. But instead, they watched in awe as you flourished in your new surroundings.

While you may have initially viewed your newfound chores as a means to an end, a way to expedite your return to the comforts of home, you couldn't deny the genuine joy and fulfillment you experienced in caring for the animals and immersing yourself in farm activities.

With each passing day, as you spent more time in the stable and the fields, you discovered a sense of peace and contentment that you had never known before. 

Whenever Mingyu's parents were away in the center of the countryside, Mingyu took it upon himself to keep you entertained and engaged, determined to show you the lighter side of farm life and ensure that you didn't find the countryside boring.

Sometimes, he would teach you how to fish in the nearby stream, laughing as you fumbled with the bait and giggling as you shrieked with delight whenever you felt a tug on the line. From impromptu horseback races across the fields to makeshift picnics under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, Mingyu made sure that there was never a dull moment when you were together.

As the rain poured down outside, Mingyu looked at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Hey, since we're stuck inside anyway, how about we play a game of hide and seek?" he suggested, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at his suggestion. Hide and seek? Wasn't that a game for children? You hadn't played it in years, not since you were a kid back in the city.

"But isn't that game a bit... childish?" you asked, your tone laced with skepticism. After all, hide and seek seemed like such a simple and silly game, hardly befitting someone of your age and sophistication.

Mingyu laughed at your hesitation, shaking his head in amusement. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, it's not like we have anything else to do while we're stuck inside," he replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to indulge in such a childish pastime. But as you glanced out the window at the dreary weather outside, you couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity and excitement at the prospect of a little indoor adventure.

With a reluctant smile, you finally relented, nodding your head in agreement. "Alright, fine. But you owe me if I end up getting bored," you teased, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

Mingyu grinned at your acceptance, his eyes alight with excitement. "Deal," he replied.

As Mingyu's voice counted down from ten, you dashed around the house, your heart racing with excitement as you searched for the perfect hiding spot. His laughter echoed through the halls as he called out the numbers, his anticipation building with each passing moment.

Finally, you found it—a small space between the wardrobe and the wall in your room. It seemed like the perfect hiding spot, tucked away from sight with just enough room for you to squeeze into. With a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure no one was watching, you darted into the hiding place and pressed your back against the wall, your heart pounding with excitement.

As you waited in the darkness, the sound of Mingyu's footsteps grew closer, his laughter echoing through the room as he searched for you. You held your breath, trying to stifle the giggles threatening to escape as his footsteps drew nearer and nearer.

Suddenly, you heard a soft gasp as Mingyu's hand brushed against the wardrobe, his fingers grazing the edge of your hiding spot. Your heart skipped a beat as you held your breath, hoping he wouldn't find you.

As Mingyu's hand brushed against your shoulder and his fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you out of your hiding place, you couldn't help but let out a startled gasp as your body collided with his. His laughter filled the room, echoing in the darkness, but you couldn't find it in you to join in.

"Sulking again, huh?" Mingyu teased, his voice warm and playful as he wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you close. 

You rolled your eyes in response, trying to hide the smile that threatened to tug at your lips despite your best efforts to maintain your facade of annoyance. "I don't sulk," you protested weakly, but even to your own ears, the protest sounded half-hearted.

Mingyu chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the room as he held you close. "Sure you don't," he replied, his tone teasing but affectionate. 

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your face, his fingers tracing your features with a gentle touch that made your heart race. In the darkness, his touch seemed to intensify, his caress becoming more intimate as he explored the contours of your face with a tenderness that took your breath away.

As Mingyu's lips met yours, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away as you melted into his embrace. His lips were soft and warm against yours, sending a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins as he pressed your back against the wardrobe, his hand pulling you closer by your waist.

With a soft moan, you found yourself responding eagerly to his touch, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Mingyu groaned against your lips, the sound sending a shiver of pleasure down your cunt as his tongue danced with yours.

As Mingyu's lips trailed down to your neck, igniting a trail of fire with each kiss, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

"M-Mingyu…"

"I can feel how much you want me," he continued, his voice low and seductive. "You're practically melting against me, begging for my touch."

His words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matched your own. As he pressed his body against yours, you could feel the heat radiating from him, the intensity of his desire burning bright in the darkness.

As his fingers brushed against your hardened nipple through your top, you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp of pleasure, the sensation sending waves of heat coursing through you.

Feeling your reaction, Mingyu hissed in response, his desire evident in the husky tone of his voice. "I need to see you," he murmured urgently, his hands moving to lift your top, his fingers tracing the contours of your body in the darkness. "This darkness isn't helping."

With a nod of understanding, you waited patiently as he disappeared into the darkness, the anticipation building with each passing moment. And then, just as suddenly as he had left, he reappeared with two lanterns, the warm glow casting a soft light over the room.

And there you were, already naked and sitting on the bed, your body bathed in the soft light of the lanterns. Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a low hum of appreciation escaping his lips as he took in the sight before him.

"You're naughty," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he approached you slowly. The warmth of the lanterns illuminated every curve and contour of your body, casting a mesmerizing glow that left him spellbound.

As the room filled with light, you couldn't help but catch your breath at the sight of Mingyu standing before you, his features illuminated in the golden glow of the lanterns. His eyes burned with desire as he looked at you, his gaze traveling over your body with hunger and longing.

With a soft smile, he stepped closer, the warmth of the lanterns enveloping you both. "Now I can see every inch of you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. 

s Mingyu's hands deftly removed his shirt, tossing it aside with a casual flick of his wrist, your eyes were drawn to the sight of his toned, muscular body illuminated by the warm glow of the lanterns. His hard work and dedication were evident in the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, sending a shiver of desire coursing through you.

Instinctively, your legs pressed together, the heat pooling between them as you felt the unmistakable arousal building within you. Mingyu's presence was intoxicating, his sheer physicality leaving you breathless and eager for more.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, you reached out to him, your hands tracing the contours of his chest and abdomen with a hungry urgency. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his muscles firm and taut as you explored every inch of him with a sense of wonder and reverence.

As your fingers trailed lower, tracing the outline of his hardened arousal, a low groan escaped Mingyu's lips, his desire mirroring your own.

As you untangled his belt and lowered his jeans, your desperation was palpable, your need for him evident in every movement. Mingyu watched you with a knowing smile, his lip caught between his teeth as he observed your eagerness.

With a sense of anticipation building between you, you got down on your knees before him, your eyes pleading as you lowered his underwear, revealing his thick, pulsing cock. It lay heavy on your face, the weight of it sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you.

Mingyu's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his desire growing with each passing moment. "That's it, baby," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with lust. "Show me how much you want it."

With a slow, provocative motion, you began to suck on the tip of his cock, teasing him with your tongue as you savored the taste of him on your lips. Mingyu groaned in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair as he urged you on.

But then, with a sudden shift in his demeanor, Mingyu's voice took on a commanding tone. "Enough teasing," he growled, his gaze dark with desire. "I want you to suck it, all of it. Show me how good you can make me feel."

As you obediently lowered your head, taking all of Mingyu's length into your mouth, you could feel him groaning in pleasure above you. His hands tightened in your hair, gripping it firmly as if he were holding onto reins, his fingers wrapping around your locks like a lasso.

With each deep thrust, he urged you on, his voice thick with desire as he commanded you to take him deeper. "That's it," he moaned, the sound reverberating through your body as you continued to obey his every whim. "Just like that, baby, all the way in."

As you relaxed your jaw, allowing Mingyu's thick cock to press against the back of your throat, a wave of pleasure surged through him, causing his knees to falter for a moment. But you remained steadfast, your determination unwavering as you held your breath and took him deeper, allowing him to penetrate you fully.

Mingyu's grip on your hair tightened as he let out a guttural groan of pleasure, his hips bucking involuntarily as he was overcome by the intense sensation of your throat enveloping him. The feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfing him completely sent waves of ecstasy coursing through his body, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.

With each deep thrust, he felt himself losing control, his desire mounting to dizzying heights as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. And as you continued to take him deeper, your throat accommodating his girth with ease, he knew that he was on the brink of an explosion unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

As Mingyu pulled on the lasso of your hair, halting just before he reached his climax, you let out a whimper of anticipation, your body trembling with need. He pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, spreading your legs apart as he positioned himself between them. Your ass lifted off the bed, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you waited for his next move.

With a hungry look in his eyes, Mingyu dropped to his knees before you, his tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe along your slit. A moan escaped your lips as pleasure shot through you, your body arching off the bed in response. "Mmm... yes," you murmured, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to lap at your pussy with fervent eagerness.

Mingyu cooed softly as he tasted you, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness with a skillful precision that left you dizzy with pleasure. "You taste so good," he whispered, his voice low and husky as he lavished attention on your sensitive folds. 

As Mingyu sucked on your clit, bobbing his head with a fervent eagerness that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, you couldn't help but moan loudly, the sensation overwhelming you completely. "Ohh... yesss," you cried out, your voice filled with unrestrained passion as he worked his magic on you.

He held back a smirk as he felt your cunt throbbing with the approach of your orgasm, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. With a wicked grin, he doubled down on his efforts, sucking your whole pussy hard, his tongue lapping at your juices with an insatiable hunger.

The intensity of his ministrations pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you with a force that left you breathless. Mingyu smiled triumphantly as he felt you come embarrassingly fast, your moans filling the room with the sweet sound of your pleasure.

As Mingyu laid you down properly on the bed, he gazed into your eyes with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. His voice was low and husky as he asked how much you wanted him to fuck you, and you could barely think straight, your mind clouded with desire.

With your orgasm still pulsing through your body, you almost drunkenly replied that you wanted him a lot, your words slurred with pleasure. Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he heard your response, his eyes smoldering with lust as he leaned in closer.

"And how much do you want this farmer to fuck you?" he murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased you with his words. The hint of his country accent sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your body quivering with need.

You rolled your hips instinctively, searching for his cock, your movements desperate and needy. Mingyu chuckled softly at your eagerness, his hands roaming over your body possessively as he continued to taunt you with his dirty talk.

With a whimper of desire, you opened your mouth in an "o" of longing, unable to resist the overwhelming urge to feel him deep inside you. "A lot," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want it... a lot... please..."

Mingyu's cock lay heavy against your belly, the sight of it making your breath catch in your throat. He looked at you with a wicked grin, his eyes burning with desire as he teased you with the promise of what was to come.

"Do you want my cock right here?" he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Inside of this pretty little pussy of yours?"

You could only nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as you gazed up at him with lust-filled eyes. "Yes," you whispered breathlessly, your voice barely above a moan. "Please, Mingyu... I need it... I need you inside me..."

Mingyu's grin widened at your response, his desire reaching a fever pitch as he positioned himself between your legs, ready to claim you as his own. With a primal growl, he pushed himself inside you, filling you completely with his throbbing cock as you cried out in ecstasy.

As Mingyu kissed you with a hunger that matched your own, you cried out in pleasure, feeling your pussy clenching tighter around his throbbing cock with each thrust. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling every ridge and muscle beneath his skin as he moved with a primal intensity that drove you wild with desire.

Suddenly, he took his cock out and pushed back inside you with all his force, causing your head to be thrown back in ecstasy. The sensation of him filling you so completely, stretching you to your limits, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

Mingyu's gaze locked with yours, his eyes boring into your soul as tears streamed down your cheeks, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. He leaned in close, his voice low and husky as he whispered filthy words that sent shivers down your spine.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to pound into you with relentless force. "You like feeling my cock splitting you in half, don't you, baby?"

You could only whimper in response, your pussy clenching tightly around him at his words, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through both of you. Mingyu stuttered for a moment, surprised by the intensity of your reaction, before letting out a low chuckle.

"Never had it this good before, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath him. "And what about those boys from your city?" he taunted. "Do they fuck you this good? Huh?"

You shook your head vehemently, your legs trembling around his waist as you cried out in pleasure. "No," you screamed, the word torn from your lips in a primal moan. "They don't... ah!"

Mingyu grinned triumphantly at your response, his own pleasure mounting to dizzying heights as he continued to drive you wild with desire. With each powerful thrust, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, determined to show you just how good it could be with a real man like him.

As Mingyu's cock pounded into you relentlessly, a white ring formed around his shaft, evidence of your overwhelming arousal. He looked down at you with a smirk, his voice low and husky as he taunted you with his words.

"Can you hear how wet you are, baby?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned in closer. "You're practically dripping for me."

You blushed furiously at his words, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you at the realization of just how turned on you were. But despite your embarrassment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, driving you to new heights of ecstasy with each thrust.

You bit your lip nervously, unable to form a coherent response as Mingyu's cock continued to pound into you with relentless determination. Your back arched involuntarily, your body betraying you with its desperate need for more.

Mingyu's hips plunged deep into you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as you jolted, desperately reaching for his hand. He chuckled softly, his voice dripping with amusement as he teased you mercilessly.

"Oh, looks like I found it," he taunted, his thrusts growing harder and more relentless with each passing moment. "Right here... and here again. Is this where you want me, baby?"

You could only whimper in response, your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of his touch. "I-I'm going to cum," you gasped, your voice thick with desire as your orgasm approached with dizzying speed.

Mingyu's hand tightened around yours, providing you with an anchor to hold onto as he continued to pound into you with an intensity that left you breathless. His hips worked deep against your G-spot, driving you closer and closer to the edge with each thrust.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered huskily, his voice laced with desire as he urged you on. "I want to feel you cumming around me."

As Mingyu noticed the way you tensed hard and squeezed his hand tightly, he could feel the intensity building within you. "You're going to cum so hard for me, baby"

And then, as if on cue, you let go, your body convulsing with the force of the orgasm that tore through you. Mingyu watched in awe as you came apart in his arms, your screams filling the room as you lost yourself completely to the pleasure.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice hoarse with desire as he drank in the sight of you, your body trembling with ecstasy as you rode out the waves of pleasure. He didn't want to blink, didn't want to miss a single moment of the beautiful sight before him.

As your body finally relaxed, Mingyu withdrew himself from your swollen, sopping cunt. You looked up at him with a lazy smile, feeling completely satisfied but still hungry for more.

"Did you cum?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation as you waited for his response.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment, but before he could answer, you cut him off with a mischievous grin, sticking your tongue out of your mouth playfully.

"Don't worry about that," he began, but you interrupted him, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you pleaded with him to cum for you.

"Come on, Mingyu," you urged, your voice dripping with desire. "I want to see you cum. I want to taste you on my tongue."

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise at your boldness, but a wicked grin spread across his face as he realized just how much you wanted him. With a low growl of desire, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered his response.

"You're insatiable, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But I like it. I like it a lot."

As Mingyu gently arranged your hair, he positioned himself so that his cock was within reach of your mouth. You eagerly complied, your saliva mixed with your own lubrication serving as the perfect medium for him to stroke his throbbing cock.

With his heavy tip resting on your tongue, you felt the anticipation building within you once again. Your lips parted as you watched him with hungry eyes, eager to taste him once more.

Mingyu groaned softly as he began to masturbate his cock, the sensation of your tongue and lips against his sensitive skin driving him crazy. With each stroke, he grew harder and thicker in your mouth, his arousal evident in the way his cock throbbed against your tongue.

You moaned softly around him, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body as he continued to pleasure himself with your eager mouth. And as his release approached, Mingyu's movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he edged closer and closer to the brink.

Finally, with a low growl of pleasure, Mingyu reached the point of no return, his cock pulsating as he spilled his hot cum onto your waiting tongue. You eagerly swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

"I'm feeling so good," you murmur, a contented smile gracing your lips as you lay beside Mingyu.

"Do you?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with tenderness as he gazes at you.

You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through your body at his gentle touch. Mingyu brushes your hair away from your face, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin as he lays on his side, his eyes fixed on you with a look of adoration.

"Yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze. "I feel amazing."

Mingyu smiles, his expression filled with affection as he leans in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The atmosphere feels incredibly comfortable, more intimate and peaceful than ever before.

You blinked, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you slowly roused from sleep, only to find yourself alone in bed. The warmth of Mingyu's big body, which had been so comforting throughout the night, was noticeably absent, leaving you with a sense of emptiness.

As you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that the events of the previous night had been nothing more than a dream. But then, just as doubt began to creep in, the door swung open, and there stood Mingyu, shirtless and wearing only jeans, a tray of breakfast in his hands.

He flashed you a warm smile as he entered the room, the sight of him banishing any lingering doubts from your mind. "Good morning," he greeted you, his voice soft and filled with affection.

"Good morning," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him approach. The sight of him, shirtless and bearing breakfast, made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth spread through you at the sight of him.

Mingyu set the tray down on the bedside table before climbing back into bed beside you, his warmth enveloping you once more. As you sat together, enjoying breakfast in each other's company.

In the middle of the afternoon, you was alone in your bedroom, Mrs. Kim appears with her phone, it was your parents, wanting to talk to you. You take the phone from Mrs. Kim with trembling hands, your heart racing with anticipation as you retreat to a secluded corner of the house. With bated breath, you answer the call, hoping against hope that it's your parents finally coming to rescue you from this unfamiliar place.

"Hello?" you say tentatively, the sound of your own voice echoing in your ears.

On the other end of the line, you hear your mother's voice, filled with concern and urgency. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asks, her tone fraught with worry.

You feel a surge of relief wash over you at the sound of her familiar voice. "Mom, it's me," you reply quickly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "I'm okay, but I really want to come home. Can you please come get me? I need to tell you something…"

There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line before your mother responds, her voice heavy with regret. "Honey, I'm sorry, but we can't come get you right now," she says, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "We need you to stay there for a little while longer."

Your heart sinks at her words, the sense of disappointment threatening to overwhelm you. "But why?" you ask, your voice cracking with emotion. "I don't understand."

Before you can say anything else, you hear a click on the other end of the line, signaling that the call has ended. With a heavy heart, you lower the phone from your ear and turn around, only to find Mingyu standing there, his expression hardened and unreadable.

You swallow hard, feeling a sense of unease settle over you as you meet his gaze. "Mingyu, I..." you begin, but he cuts you off with a curt shake of his head before turning and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You ran after him, your footsteps echoing in the stillness of the countryside as you desperately called out his name. But Mingyu didn't turn to look at you, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he continued walking towards the lagoon.

"Mingyu, please," you pleaded, your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to catch up to him. "Listen to me."

He finally stopped walking, but he still didn't turn to face you. Instead, he spoke with a tone of resignation, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I understand now," he said quietly. "You were just using me to pass the time until you could go home."

Your heart sank at his words, the guilt weighing heavily on your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. "No, Mingyu, that's not true," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I... I care about you. What about yesterday? What we shared..."

But he cuts you off with a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yesterday was a mistake," he says, his words like a knife to your heart. "It doesn't change the fact that you were never really here for me. You were just biding your time until you could leave."

Your mouth hung open in shock as Mingyu's words sliced through you like a blade, leaving you reeling with hurt and disbelief. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend his harsh accusations.

"That's mean!" you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know I'm wrong, but you're being so mean right now!"

Mingyu's attention snapped back to you at the sound of your sobs, his heart clenching with regret as he watched the tears stream down your face. He hadn't meant to hurt you so deeply, but in his anger and frustration, his words had cut far deeper than he had intended.

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of Mingyu's harsh judgment hanging heavy in the air. And then, finally, you spoke again, your voice barely above a whisper.

"It was a mistake then?" you asked, your words barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. 

Mingyu hesitates, his own emotions swirling inside him as he struggles to find the right words. "No, it wasn't a mistake," he admits quietly, his gaze softening as he meets your tear-filled eyes. "Yesterday... what we shared... it meant something to me."

Your heart races as Mingyu's words sink in, a mix of hope and confusion swirling inside you. "Then why are you saying all of this?" you ask, your voice trembling with emotion. "If it meant something to you, then why..."

Mingyu cuts you off with a heavy sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggles to find the right words. "Because it's not going to work," he admits, his voice filled with resignation. "You're going back to your expensive bags and imported cars, and I'm going to be alone."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the realization of what he's saying sending a surge of pain through your chest. "But how can you be sure that I want to go home?" you protest, desperation creeping into your voice. "You didn't even heard the whole conversation. I need to go home, yes, but not because I want to leave you. I need to go home to tell my parents, my friends, that I want to stay here."

Mingyu's shoulders sag at your words, a flicker of hope shining in his eyes. "You want to stay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Yes," you say softly. "And do you know what made up my mind?"

Mingyu's gaze searches yours, waiting for your answer.

"You did," you admit, your voice barely a whisper as you meet his gaze. "You and this life... it made me feel something real. Something I've never felt before."

For a moment, there's a glimmer of understanding in Mingyu's eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could work out between you. He takes a step towards you, reaching out as if to touch you, but you step back, your heart still raw from his earlier words.

"I'm hurt," you whisper, your voice breaking with emotion. "And I need some time alone to figure things out."

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Mingyu standing there, his gaze following you with a mixture of longing and regret. And as you disappear from view, you can't help but wonder if you've made the right decision... or if you've just made a terrible mistake.

Mingyu stands in the doorway, his expression pensive as he takes in the sight of you curled up on the bed, your breath trembling from your recent tears. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to approach you, before finally taking a step into the room.

"I... I wanted to talk to you," he begins, his voice soft and hesitant. "I know things have been... difficult between us lately, and I just wanted to say..."

He pauses, struggling to find the right words as he searches your face for any sign of understanding. "When I first heard that a rich girl was coming to our farm, I'll admit, I had my doubts," he admits, his gaze dropping to the floor as he speaks. "I thought you would be like all the others – snobbish, entitled, looking down on us like we were beneath you."

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what comes next. "But you proved me wrong," he continues, his voice growing stronger with each word. "You learned everything we taught you, you got along with everyone, and... despite our bickering, you seemed so genuine."

Mingyu's words hang in the air, the weight of his apology lingering between you. He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading for understanding as he searches your face for any sign of forgiveness.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you, for the things I've said. I was wrong to judge you based on where you come from, and... I hope you can forgive me."

There's a vulnerability in Mingyu's voice that tugs at your heartstrings, a sincerity that you can't ignore. You feel a lump form in your throat as you meet his gaze, seeing the regret and remorse etched in his features.

"I... I forgive you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you speak. "And... I'm sorry too. For the way I've acted, for... everything."

Mingyu's eyes soften at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "And... I hope we can start over. Put all this behind us and... move forward."

In the bustling city where love often feels like just another commodity, you found something rare and precious in the countryside with Mingyu – an intense and fast connection that seemed to defy all logic and expectation. It was as if you could parachute jump into this feeling without a second thought, without fear of falling.

[dirtysvthoughts]

mafia boss! wonwoo x reader headcanons

tags/warnings: smut, female! reader, reader is shorter than wonwoo, some pwp, some worldbuilding before the smut (you know how i do), pet names (pretty girl, little one, etc.), mentions of love languages, mentions of lingerie, fingering, lots of kissing and making out, mentions of a dinner, apartment sex, kitchen sex into bedroom sex, make sure they wrap it up before you unwrap it! i’m actually highly upset i can’t have wonwoo blow my back out on a regular

author’s note: first of all, HEY BESTIES! i know i’ve been kinda silent, but i’m slowly getting back my will and motivation to write (do NOT take 3 classes during the summer). i’ve been dying to get my thoughts out on this after the lalali mv, and who knows - this may end up as a full length fic sometime soon 👀 let’s get into it!

———

-mafia boss! wonwoo whose gang started off small, and now he runs one of the largest mafia organizations in the country. he’s cunning, smart, sly, intimidating, even ruthless. those under him respect and admire him, from his vice-leader to the newer members. he strikes fear into several and he is not to be taken lightly or crossed. several groups have been eliminated with just a few words from his lips (like he said, he’s a monster).

-then enter you, his lover, whose entire lifestyle is the opposite of the one he leads. you’re just a simple office worker, but you’re fortunate enough to have some extra pleasures, like a lavish apartment and a decent social life. wonwoo has had his share of women and previous relationships, but you were different. you keep him level headed and grounded. your calm demeanor and intelligence are so very, very attractive to him. and of course, your looks and natural beauty were stunning. he’s protective of you and would prefer you rather not get involved in any of his business endeavors.

-even though he insists on not bringing you into his craziness, he wants to help you out and provide for you as much as he can. his acts of service have ranged from his captains running errands for you to even giving you large monetary gifts every few months.

smut under the cut!! minors DO NOT INTERACT FROM HERE!

-good god, sex with mafia boss! wonwoo would go two ways: rough sex with you screaming and begging for mercy or soft sex with you whimpering and moaning his name, telling you to hold your cum in until he says you can release it. either way, his dominance will be asserted.

-has multiple pet names for you, but absolutely loves calling you: “little one,” “princess,” “my darling,” and “pretty girl.”

-mafia boss! wonwoo has an OBSESSION with you in lingerie. he. can’t. get. enough. he’s bought you multiple sets, and of course has his favorites. absolutely loves it when you dress up for him, he will roam his calloused hands up and down your body, kissing your stomach as he toys with the hem of your panties.

-one of your sexual encounters was in his gang’s warehouse (before the group’s weekly meeting, so it was empty). he looked so dashing in his green gucci suit, hair pulled back into a bun - the wetness gushing in your panties making it clear you needed him. when he closes and locks the warehouse garage door, he crashes his lips onto yours while his hands grab your ass. he grunted something about missing you and how he needed to feel your tight cunt around him. at the moment, you’re unable to form words, but you feel the exact same way, all you could think about was him while you were working and the last time he fucked you silly. he walks you over to a table, lips still on yours and his hands now moving to take off your blouse. he tosses the white garment to the side, leaving you in your bra and work pants. once the back of your knees hit the edge of the table, he guides you to lay on top, clearing off everything in your way - objects loudly crashing to the floor. he caresses your face as his right hand works the clasps and the zipper on your pants, fingers slowly trailing inside your panties, and lightly touching your clit from the outside. you can help but bite your lip and moan his name, wonwoo smirking in response and he rubs the pad of his fingers around your part. “think you can finish before junghoon (his vice leader) gets here, little one?”

-another wonderful sexual encounter brought out his soft dom side. he wanted to spend some time with you, so you two set a date where he can come over to your place, have some food, and enjoy your company. on the day of, he rings the doorbell to your apartment, bringing with him a bottle of champagne, dressed in a white mock turtleneck with black pants. when you open the door, a smile appears on his face and you take his hand, leading him through the door. you just put him at ease, and he feels so comfortable around you. “i missed you my darling,” he whispers as he kisses your hand, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

-some time passes after dinner, and the two of you are talking in the kitchen with champagne still in your glasses. as you sit on the counter, wonwoo finishes washing the dishes, thanking you for the meal. you shrug and say it was nothing and you didn’t mind, but wonwoo insists that it was something more. “i know i don’t say this a lot, but i want to let you know that i do love you, and you mean a lot to me.” your heart melts at his words and you give wonwoo a hug as he comes back to your side. “i love you too, baby,” you whisper. a few moments later, you delicately press your lips on his, and he seals the deal. your tongues dance together as you continue to kiss, this time your hands are the first to move and they tug at the hem of his turtleneck, pulling it up to reveal some of his abs. he helps you out as his shirt goes higher, and it’s quickly tossed to the other side of the room. he returns the favor by taking off your crop top, revealing the bra that beautifully accentuates your breasts. he licks his lips as he kisses your neck, his hands moving slowly up your thighs. “w-wonwoo,” you whine, “i need you!” “i know, darling, i know,” he responds. “you’ll have everything you want and more tonight.” he carries you bridal style to your bedroom, lips still locked together as gently tosses you onto the bed.

-you’re pretty sure by now your neighbors can hear you moan for your partner, but you could care less right now - wonwoo was thrusting into so deliciously that you body pinged with each movement. he knew your body and he knew how to please you, and tonight he wanted to make sure just how much you meant to him. filthy phrases leave his mouth, calling you his baby girl, how perfect your pussy was for him, and all he wanted was to see your legs covered in his juices. you grasp onto your hotel-like white sheets, your face contorting as his deep voice and dick send you over the edge when he hits your spot and releases his load in you. you breathe heavily as you come too, saying his name over and over as if it was the only thing you knew.

“i love you little one,” he kisses your cheek as he pulls out, embracing you as you cuddle up to his side.

“mmm, i love you too.”

[reiderwriter]

Hello!I hope you are having a great day!I love LOVE your writing and I would like to request a fanfiction where the reader is Hotch's daughter who works at the bau and is in a secret relationship with spencer without her dad knowing.Spencer wants to tell the team but she is scared about how they'll react so they fight but during a case she gets kidnapped and the feelings are high,so spencer accidentally reveals the relationship.I would love if it ended in smut (possibly dom!spencer who is angry at her for being so reckless and risking her life like that) and maybe a lot of angst??Hotch could potentially be fuming but when they get her back he decides that he will let them be??I would like my emoji to be 🌼!Thank you in advance and if you write this I would absolutely LOVE to read it!🤍🤍

A/N: I love writing for a Hotchner Reader because the Hotch/Spencer parallels are so 😙👌 This was so fun to write!

Warnings: Smut/ Angst with a happy ending, Semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, case details, kidnapping, abuse, strangulation, mentions of child death/ allusions towards pedophilia etc, Hotch is a somewhat shitty/overprotective dad/boss.

Masterlist!

Falling back into a hotel bed that wasn't yours, you wrapped your legs around Spencer Reid as he furiously worked open the buttons of your shirt, his lips locked with yours in a furious exchange. 

“Spencer, Spencer, we can't-” You moaned as his lips fell down to your ear, a small tap to your thigh signalling that he wanted tour legs spread for him. Despite your vocal protests, you complied.

“Need to feel you,” he groaned, nipping and sucking his way down your chest as his big hands began pushing your skirt up and your panties down. 

“Spencer, someone will hear.” 

“I don't care who hears,” he whispered, finally ridding you of the last piece of material covering your wet sex. “I just want to make you feel good.”

His lips fell to your cunt, falling on your cunt as he began his ministrations. You loved this, the feeling of him near, his lips on you, his tongue teasing out whimper, then moan, then a scream of his name as you came undone on his lips. But that wasn't a chance you could take today. 

“He's in the next room, Spencer. Fuck, he's going to hear us.” 

You wouldn't push him off, enjoying too much the feeling of your building pleasure, so appealing to your boyfriend to do the right thing was your last resort as your hips bucked into his face, chasing your orgasm. 

He didn't stop, but held your hips down, thrusting his tongue in and out of you as his fingers came up to tease your clit. 

“Spencer, fuck-” you slapped a hand over your mouth as you shuddered below him, finally reaching your climax. 

Your hands fell limp as he worked you through the end of your orgasm before rising up to lay beside you on the bed. 

“I wish you wouldn't push it, Spencer. You're a dead man if he catches us like this.” 

“Hotch won't kill me just because I'm dating his daughter. I don't understand why you don't want to tell people.” 

You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. It was a conversation you'd been back and forward on a lot in the past six months. 

Dating a coworker was tricky, doubly so when your coworker’s boss - and your boss - was your overprotective father. Things only became more complicated when you factored in a ten year age gap and the fact that your father refused to view you as an adult, even when you were a fully qualified member of his own team. 

You'd had to fight for acceptance into the FBI and go above him to get the job on his team, a decision that he still berated you for to this day. But you'd had enough of him shielding you from reality, and it was a step you needed to take. 

Falling in love with Spencer Reid, though, that was just pure bad luck. 

You weren't sure how it had taken you until joining the team to meet the man, but you sure were glad he hadn't been introduced earlier. You'd joined the team at 24, having been in grad school until your FBI Academy application was approved, and somehow in the 10 years before that Spencer had worked under your father, you'd never crossed paths.

Of course, you knew who he was before that from context and conversations with your father, and of course, he figured out who you were quickly based on the many arguments you'd had in Hotch’s office. But that hadn't stopped you from repeatedly falling into his bed month after month, and then falling in love with him. 

Your relationship was more than the sex, but it was also a lot of sex. From the stories you'd heard, and from the look of him, you'd assumed that Spencer was a delicate little flower, an innocent in the bedroom as much as any 34 year old man could be. 

And then you'd both been offered spiked drinks at a holiday party courtesy of Penelope Garcia, and he'd proved you deliriously wrong. He'd been hooked from then on, and after waking up awkwardly in his bed the next morning to two cups of coffee and a spread of breakfast pastries he'd gone out to specifically pick up for you, you'd been hooked on him as well. 

The only problem was Hotch. 

You certainly weren't winning any daughter of the year awards already with the stunt you pulled to get on the BAU, but you didn't want to be completely and totally disowned just yet. 

“Hotch won't kill you for dating his daughter, you're right,” you mumbled back to Spencer rolling yourself back on top of him and pinning his arms down so his fingers couldn't tease you any further. 

“Thank you, now if you trust me, I've ran like four different scenarios in my head so-” 

“He'd definitely fire us both, though. And that's worse than death.”

“Y/N….” 

“Tell me I'm wrong, please. Back up your findings with empirical evidence. He doesn't want me on the team, Spencer. He doesn't even want me in the FBI. I think he'd be happy enough to ship me out of the country, too, if that helped.”

Spencer sighed and tugged your hair behind your ear as he gestured for you to sit up. 

“I know it's scary. But I love you. I don't care about the consequences because I'll still love you before and after telling him.”

“And during?” 

“I might freak out a bit, but deep down, the love will be there still.”

You hit him with a pillow and climbed off the bed. 

“Okay, get out now. I'll think about it but you really can't stay here tonight.” He nodded, grabbing his things and pulling his clothes back into place. 

“So, like we're totally done for tonight? Nothing else.”

“Spencer! Out!” You whisper-shouted the words and watched him turn your door handle as slowly as possible before he waved his goodbye and left your room. 

12 hours later, you were once again getting frustrated with Spencer Reid. And Aaron Hotchner. They may soon be enemies, but goddamn they were perfect for each other in some ways. 

“Hotch, you can't just give me nothing to do. Send me to the morgue with Rossi, or let me interview family members with Tara. I'm a member of this team, too, so let me do my job.” 

“You'll do well to remember that I'm your boss, Y/N.”

“You're acting more like my dad right now. A boss would utilize his team members.” 

You'd been stuck in this stale mate since the morning, and Reid hadn't helped at all. When giving out assignments that morning, you'd not been notably left out of crime scene investigation, suspect interrogation, and anything helpful. Reid usually asked for your assistance at times like these, but he was finally putting his money where his mouth was and keeping distance from you in the office.

So far, you'd ran coffees back and forth between the kitchen and work room and had been communicating back and forth with JJ and Derek in the field and Garcia back at Quantico. 

You'd been, for lack of better comparison, relegated to receptionist. 

“At least let me work on the geographical profile with Reid-” 

“Absolutely not.” 

You stiffened at the reaction, wondering just exactly why he would react so strongly. Spencer had snuck in a few secret kisses here and there this morning, though you'd been sure that you'd had no witnesses. 

“Why not?” 

“I don't want you to distract him.”

Bile settled in the back of your throat as you tried your best to bite your tongue and keep the bitter words in. 

“You know, sometimes, Dad, it feels like you love everyone on this team more than you love me.” 

He locked eyes with you quickly, but he glance was dismissive and stern, almost as if he was asking you ‘seriously.’ 

You turned on your heels and began to walk out before he called out from behind you again. 

“Y/N,” you stopped despite yourself. 

“Leave the gun and badge on the desk. We'll discuss this after the case is closed.”

You almost laughed. You almost blurted out your relationship with Spencer just to spite him. You followed his order and took yourself out of the office for some fresh air, finally giving him what he wanted. 

An hour of aimlessly wandering down the street, and you turned into a run-down park. 16 missed calls from Spencer and other members of the team, who'd no doubt watched you turn in your badge. 

Garcia had even called a few times, and you felt guilty for not forwarding her calls somewhere else, knowing she'd probably have key case information for someone. 

But you just couldn't handle it anymore, so you switched it off, pushed it back into your pocket, and kept walking. 

It was two more blocks before the man following you pushed a soaked rag over your mouth and nose and pushed your unconscious body into the back of a waiting van. 

×××××

Two hours of near constant complaining to Hotch had gotten Spencer nowhere in his demands to know just where you went. 

He'd called you 36 times since Hotch had told him you'd left, and he hadn't stopped freaking out since. 

“But where did she go?” 

“I sent her back to the motel.” 

“All of our cars, bar the one JJ and Morgan took to the crime scene, are outside and accounted for. The motel is a 34-minute drive away. It'll take her 5 hours on foot through our unsubs hunting grounds, and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she matches the victim profile we just gave. Where is she?” 

A muscle in Hotch's jaw twitched, but neither of them moved, eyes locked in battle to see who would back down first.

A call from Penelope ended whatever disaster was storming between them. 

“Hotch hey, I can't get in contact with mini-Hotch, so here I am. Morgan called earlier from the crime scene. From the way they're posed, he said they could be possible stand-ins for a lost child  a daughter or a sister, so I cross checked the ownership of the vehicles that run with the tires we found prints of at the scene, and I got a name. Like one.”

“Great work, Penelope, send it over.” 

Hotch dropped the call and looked back up at Spencer, readying himself to give orders and push the issue. 

Again, their standoff was interrupted. 

“Hotch,” JJ rushed in, carrying a radio dispatcher, face white, and filled with worry. “You need to hear this.”

“Witness reported an abduction on East and 7th, patrol surveyed the scene and found a cellphone. Identifying information suggests it belongs to a Y/N Hotchner. We're bringing it into the stat-” 

Hotch stood so fast his chair almost crashed to the floor. He stood so fast that he barely had time to dodge the lunge Spencer took in his direction, fist pulled back. It would connect, given the chance  he knew it would. He'd been the one to teach Spencer to throw a punch in the first place. 

Morgan insinuated himself between the two men before, and blood could be shed, quickly pulling Spencer back as Rossi, too, rushed into the room to diffuse the situation. 

“One hour. I've been asking you for one hour where she went, and you wouldn't answer me. You made her leave her gun behind.” 

It wasn't exactly a shout, but there was something broken in his voice, as of his mouth had filled with blood and he could only spit hate at a man who'd been a mentor to him until seconds before. 

“If she's hurt- fuck, if even a hair on her head is out of place, I'll-” 

“What, Spencer? What will you do? She's my daughter. What could you do that-”

“She's my girlfriend! She's my girlfriend, she's the love of my life. God, I want to marry her, I have the ring, I have the proposal planned, all that was left was telling you and then asking her, but you've been such a dick to her about this job, and about cases, and God knows what else, that she doesn't want to say anything to you, and now you've driven her away and she's fucking gone. And she could be hurt or in danger or d-de…” 

He crumpled to the floor, Morgan still holding him as his legs gave way beneath him. 

Nobody moved for what felt like hours, still in their grief, shock, some just nervous to see what would happen next. 

“You've been in this situation before, Hotch. So have I. It's …. It hasn't ended well for us before.” 

The words were so final, so defeated that they sucked the air out of the room.

“Morgan,” Hotch started quietly, eyes still locked with Reid's, still staring down the reflection of his own despair.

“Get Garcia back on the line, I want confirmation that the vehicle that picked Y/N up is the same one that our unsub has been using to set up crime scenes. See if she can lift a name and an address. Rossi, if he's skilled enough to pick up an FBI Agent unaware, we need a SWAT team, get one on standby.”

Slowly growing in volume, he continued, as the room started moving at his signal. 

“JJ, Tara, take over where Reid left off with the geographical profile. Look at Y/N's last known location and how far a car could've gotten in the last 24 minutes.” 

He paused again, staring Reid down. 

“Reid, you're with me.” 

xxxxx

It took you a few seconds to gain a sense of your surroundings when you came to. Partially because of the drug induced migraine splitting your head, and partially because of the mess of ribbons and stuffed toys you'd woken up in. 

A change of clothes, and hands tied to what seemed to be a children's bed and you felt so grossly vulnerable your body shook with a few harsh sobs before you regained your composure and remembered your training. 

The knots on the rope holding your hands were tight. There wasn't much room to move with them pinned above your head, but you recognised them as naval knots. Your unsub had experience at sea, recreational or professional you'd yet to determine. 

Looking around again, you looked for entries and exits, wanting to know how the unsub would come in again and how you could get out. 

There were no windows, but a set of stairs leading up towards a solid door told you that you'd been locked inside a basement. A basement decorated similarly to a child's bedroom. 

Dimly lit by a mass of fairy lights, the room seemed covered head to toe in teddy bears, dolls, and children's books, a sturdy handmade doll’s house standing in the corner of the room. 

Faintly, you heard the creaking of floorboards above you before the handle of the basement door rattled and more light poured in. 

“I bought you breakfast, cupcake.” 

There was no time to feign unconsciousness again as your captor finally came into view. 

He was older than middle-aged, slightly wider around the midsection than you assumed he'd been in his youth. His hair was closely cropped and laid neatly, leading you to suspect he was former military. 

“Oh, good, you're awake. What do you want to do today, cupcake? Daddy has some time off now, I can play with you all you want.” 

You moved slowly, pushing yourself up to a seated position so you could bend your arms a bit. But you didn't look away, needing to keep him in your line of sight the entire time.

“Where am I?” You asked slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Wow, you must've had a deep sleep cupcake. You're in your bedroom, silly!”

The man's sprightly tone was disconcerting, and you could see a muscle in his forehead twitch slightly as you spoke. 

“O-of course. My mistake. Maybe I'm just still tired.”

He laid the tray on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to you. You tried your best not to shy from his touch as he stroked your hair, but every muscle in your body tensed and pulled from him reflexively. 

A quick glance to the tray and you saw the food he'd brought you was a small cup of pills and a glass of water to rinse them down with. 

If he noticed your flinch, he said nothing, grabbing a hairbrush from the nightstand and beginning to comb through your hair slowly and deliberately, taking care like one would a daughter. 

“Daddy,” you took a chance, recalling the name he'd given himself earlier. “Can we play outside today? I want to go to the park.” 

He stopped moving, and you held your breath as his smile dropped. 

“No, sweetie. You know we don't go to parks.” 

“Why not? I really want to play there, Daddy, please!”

In seconds, his hands wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back down into the bed, holding you there with his tight, suffocating grip. 

“Shut the fuck up you little slut. I said we don't go to parks, you listen. I am your father, you are not being taken by one of those sick freaks again.” 

He released you as quick as he grabbed you and stood up, pacing as he attempted to regain composure. 

“You can draw or we can have a tea party but you know we can't go out. You know that cupcake, I've told you so many times.” 

He grabbed at his hair, pulling it from its carefully styled arrangement into a mess, his fingers leaving red marks against his white skin as he pushed and pulled his head. 

He breathed deeply, and you sat up, trying to regain your composure as you watched him lose his. 

“What was her name?” You whispered, half hoping he would hear you, half praying that he'd ignore you for the sake of his fantasy. 

“W-What?” 

“Your daughter. What was her name?” 

He focused on you again, but his hands - hands that you knew could and would choke the life out of you if you did something wrong again - his hands were shaking. 

You heard the floorboards creaking upstairs and decided to push your questioning, hoping it meant what you thought it did. 

“Why are you saying it like that, ‘was?’ Is. Her name is, your name is Laura, and you're my little cupcake.” 

“What happened to her?” You filled your voice with as much sympathy and understanding as you could muster, one eye on the basement door that was being slowly pushed open. One look at Morgan at the top of the stairs had your heart rate slowing to a calmer speed. You locked eyes with him for a second, halting him, and he nodded, waiting for your signal. 

“You, you're my cupcake, you look just like… She should look just like you.” 

The man sat on the bed again, stroking a hair out of your eye as his filled with tears. 

“Fifteen years. I looked for her for fifteen years, you know. If I hadn't taken her to that park-” 

“That must have been hard.” 

He nodded as he broke down in silent sobs. 

“They said… they said she probably died a day or two after we lost her. When they found her, she was…” he rested his head on your shoulder, let him cling to you as he mourned his daughter. 

“We couldn't identify her, but she had that teddy with her. The teddy with the cupcake in its hands. She never went anywhere without it. So we…we knew.

You looked at Morgan as he slowly made his descent into the room, closely followed by JJ. 

The man looked up into your eyes again, wiping the tears from his face. 

“She was only 8.” He looked defeated, and your heart broke for him, even as you wished to get as far away from him as you could physically muster. 

Morgan pulled him up and away from you as he secured the man with handcuffs, but his eyes remained locked on you. 

JJ untied you and guided you out, but you felt his gaze bite into you ever after you'd left the basement. 

As soon as you were above ground, you let your body divest itself of adrenaline, your legs buckling as JJ tried to catch you. Another set of arms was quicker, though, and you didn't even register Spencer's arrival before burying your head in his chest and letting your sobs escape you. 

He guided you to your feet and walked you out to the ambulance, his arms protectively wrapped around you, his lips peppering kisses along your hairline and forehead, anywhere he could reach. In moments, you were bundled into the ambulance, and three gentle voices were trying to calm you, to pry you away from your comfort doll.

You wondered if you'd die like the unsubs daughter had, if they'd find you clinging to Spencer the way she had to her teddy bear.

“Y/N,” your father's deep voice was clear and smooth, the only thing that was cutting through the wretched moment of pain you were enduring. 

You remembered yourself again, relinquishing your grip on Spencer and wiping the tears from your face as you finally looked towards Aaron Hotchner. 

The paramedics took their chance and began checking your vitals, working around you in a hurry. 

“Dad, I'm sorry, I was walking and didn't notice that he was behind me, I should've been more careful-”

“Y/N, it’s okay. You're okay now.” 

You nodded as he came closer. You ignored the tears in his eyes, trying not to break down again. It had been an age since you'd last witnessed him cry, at another crime scene with another family member and another unsub. You couldn't think about how close you'd come to making him relive his worst nightmare. 

Spencer's hand was still firm in yours, and you held it like a lifeline, though you were sure your nails had to be cutting him by now. It took another moment to register that he was holding onto you just as hard, that he was unmoving, still where he was usually a series of compulsive moments, tapping, hand wringing, fists clenching and releasing. 

You glanced between the men, who had now become quiet as they surveyed you, and noticed the tension. Before you could say anything, though, the paramedics took over. 

“We're going to get you to the hospital now, Agent, one coworker can accompany you in the vehicle, preferably one with knowledge of your medical history.”

Both men immediately moved forward again, as if ready to jump into the van, before turning again to each other. 

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself just as the buzzing in your head from the migraine grew louder. 

“Y/N, it's your choice. Who do you want to come?” Spencer said gently, his body still stiff with worry. 

“I'm her father. This isn't a question of who she likes better.”

“I have her medical records memorized, and I have more knowledge about the drugs the unsub gave her, but Y/N can choose for herself because she is a grown woman.”

You sighed and dropped the man's hand as the medics ushered you into the van fully, but the men were fully absorbed in their fight for dominance that they barely registered it. 

“JJ. JJ is coming with me,” You could see both of them turn back to you to argue, but you continued before they could. “Because I am a grown adult who knows her own medical history, and I don't need my father and my… coworker having territory wars over my wellbeing.” 

And possibly because she'd be the least awkward option to answer the questions about sexual activity and possibility of pregnancy around, but you really did not need to vocalize that. 

“Right now, I'm just a victim you've saved. Go and do your jobs and meet me at the hospital later because I am not doing overtime completing paperwork while on suspension.” 

JJ climbed up into the ambulance and the doors shut, letting you finally get a few moments peace as it began slowly making its way to whatever hospital was closest. 

“He knows, right?” You asked, covering your eyes with your hands as you braved for the answer. 

“Hotch? You could say that he figured it out.” 

“That bad?” 

“Spencer threw a punch at him. He tried to at least.” 

“What?!” Your body shot up, but the paramedic gently forced you back into a laid position, giving you a warning look to stay put as she checked your blood pressure. 

“Don't be too hard on him, Y/N. He thought he was going to lose you. They both did. I don't think either of them would survive it happening again.” 

The guilt hit you right in the chest as you nodded and dropped the conversation. 

“Maybe I should've let Spencer come with me.” 

“Why?” JJ asked, not offended bit curious. 

“Because I'm not entirely sure my father won't throw that punch back at him now he knows I'm okay. It's hard being in a relationship if one of you is dead.” 

The older woman chuckled slightly, and you settled back down, letting the car movements rock you into sleep. 

xxxxx

A few hours later and some quietly bickering voices pulled you from the rest you'd so sorely needed. Without even opening your eyes, you knew they'd both subtly scrambled to your bed to make sure you were comfortable. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked, wiping your eyes carefully as you tried to sit up, arms still aching from being tied up. 

“Oh shit-” you exclaimed after seeing your boyfriends freshly split lip. 

“Dad, what the fuck?” 

“Y/N, it's fine. It doesn't hurt.” 

“Aaron Hotchner, do you have nothing to say for yourself?” You tried to put all of tour anger into the words as you said them, bit he looked at you again with his straight face, and you crumpled under the pressure. 

“I won't…I'm not going to object. I just ask you to keep your private life separate from your work.” 

“And you're going to punch my boyfriend while I'm unconscious, so I can't defend him.” 

“I'm still your father, and he deserved it.” 

You looked back over to Spencer, who was quite notably not meeting your eyes. 

“Do I want to know?” 

“I'm leaving now. Jack will be here soon. He wants to check on you now that school is over. We told him you were hurt trying to save a sick man.” 

“Thank you, dad.” 

He nodded at you and left you alone in your hospital room with Spencer. 

“Why did you deserve it?” You whisper shouted the moment you assumed he was out of earshot. 

“The doctor came in and asked about some old bruises on your upper thighs. And ass. And chest. I had to admit they weren't sustained during the kidnapping, and Hotch wasn't pleased.” 

You huffed out a sound halfway between incredulous and a strangled moan of shame as you curcled yourself up into a ball and tried your best to die. 

“Great. Wonderful.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he thought it was signs of domestic violence and not just rough...sex.” 

“Yes, Spencer, that makes me feel entirely more comfortable with the situation.” 

Registering the sarcasm in your voice, he quieted down again, settling into the chair by your bedside and grabbing your hand. 

You sat silently together for a few minutes before either of you said anything. 

“I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to find out.” 

“Spencer, you don't have to apologise. All things considered, this is possibly the best way he could've found out.”

“My busted lip suggests otherwise, I think.” 

“And a whole lot more would've been busted if he caught us any other time. Besides, I already lost my job, so there's not much else at stake anymore.” 

The words stung you as you said them, but you did still feel the weight of your dismissal in your chest, spreading miserably through your bones. 

“Does your head still hurt?”

“Not really, why?”

“You're not as perceptive as you usually are.”

You shot him a confused look as he smiled softly down at you, offering a nod towards the small coffee table under the window of your hospital room. 

There on your table sat your creds and your gun. The silent acknowledgement you'd been waiting for from your father. 

Spencer sat by you as you did your best to hold off the tears. He let you pretend there was something in your eye, let you wonder if your eyes had become watery because of dust from the basement. He quietly held your hand as you grinned and grinned until you pulled him in for a kiss and held him close to you. 

His lips were soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you even as he tried to hold himself up and off you so he didn't hurt you. 

“You know,” you said, punctuating each word with another sweet kiss. “This means- that- you're- stuck- with- me.” 

He laughed into your final kiss, finally pulling back for more air, studying your face as if he were trying to memorize it. 

“That was never the issue.” 

“Oh really, and what was?”

He kissed your again, slow and deep this time, taking his time working his hands down from your hair to your neck to cup your face so you were opened up to him, letting his lips and tongue explore everything he wanted to. He pulled away eventually and instinctively your lips tried to chase his, even as he pulled out of reach. 

“Making sure you stayed by my side.” 

[coolyiooo]

Overstimulating BSD Men

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, Chuuya, Sigma, and Tecchou

❗WARNINGS: SMUT, MDNI, overstimulation, begging, praise, degrading, pulling, scratching, gagging, breeding kink, moaning, groaning, whimpering, and etc❗

This was the first BSD smut I wrote but I edited it a bit to make it better. it's a bit short (I feel like it is) but hope you enjoy it :)

🖤DAZAI🖤

You just wanted to punish Dazai for teasing you so much today. So you decided to just drive him over the edge with just your hand. Your hand was moving up and down on his throbbing cock. Your hand and his dick were wet and slimy from his previous orgasms. He couldn't stop moaning and whimpering. He kept on twitching while a small amount of drool dripped from the corners of his lips. Some of his own cum was on his stomach. His hands were clenched so tightly that his fingernails were digging into his skin.

You kept kissing his cheeks, neck, and temple as you kept massaging his cock. He was a sight to behold that's for sure. You kept giving him so many praises but also small degrading comments, only fueling to his euphoric release.

"Mnn~ ah- your hand feels so mph!- amazing, bella~" Dazai moans while his cock throbbed.

You kissed his neck, making him shiver slightly "you look so beautiful like this dazai~ but you also look pathetic being covered in your own cum" you taunted with a slight smirk

"P-please.. b-bella mmmn~ I can't handle more of this ah!-" he groaned.

The overwhelming amount of pleasure was becoming unbearable. His body was becoming hot. His heart rate was racing, yet he felt nothing but pleasure and it was only getting better and better.

"Why should I when the most beautiful sight is you cumming just by my hand? Plus you can't stop throbbing and moaning like a little man whore, it's really music to my ears" you degraded him

His cock only throbbed more when you degraded him. Something about you making him so submissive like this was so arousing for him. He can only moan louder. You then started to move your hand faster. Making his head fall back with his mouth open while moaning loudly .His cock throbbing aggressively. The sight could almost make you cum. Your underwear was drenched from your wet cunt.

"AH~! fuck! So f-fucking good~! Don't stop mmn~ I'm gonna cum again ah~ please don't s-stop!" He whimpered.

You smirked slightly "Oh, alright..since you asked so nicely"

You bent over to his sensitive cock and started to suck him off like your life depended on it. Your warm, sticky tongue wrapped around him perfectly.

He eyes shot wide open as he moaned loudly "B-BELLA! Y-yes! AHHH~!"

In a couple seconds, he thrusted upwards into your mouth to release his cum. Eyes and mouth wide open. His Back slightly arched. He was gasping for air. He felt like he was ascending to heaven, but it felt too sinful to be heaven, but if hell was like this, he wouldn't mind going.

He was panting and sweating while his body was hot and trembling aggressively. His eyes were now closed as his body was started to relax and calm down. You swallowed his cum before kissing his cheek with a small smile. He opened his eyes tiredly to see your beautiful face. All he could do was chuckle softly and say "that was...just...wow.."

💚RANPO💚

You wouldn't stop bobbing your head up and down Ranpo's cock even after he came a few times already. He just tastes so good and looks so irresistible when overstimulated, and his whimpers only made you keep going. His hand was behind your head as he caressed your hair and head.

"Mmn~! Ah~! You really can't have enough of me, huh, sugar~?" He whimpered

You lift your head off his dick with a pop, using your hands to rub him instead. You smirked slightly while looking at him. His cheeks were flushed while his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. It was evident that he was feeling amazing and loving the feeling of your mouth and skillful tongue.

"You taste so sweet ranpo~ I guess you are what you eat right?" You then started to bob your head up and down on his needy cock again.

He moaned out loud. His hands were squeezing the couch cushions. He was looking away with a blush face and a overwhelmed expression, eyes squeezed shut. He went back to whimpering loudly. His whole body was trembling with pleasure.

You lifted off his cock for a quick second "Your whimpers make me so wet ranpo~ your being such a good boy~" you said before sucking his cock again.

His cock twitched at the praise and he started to thrust into your mouth, making you start to gag on his cock, but it only made him feel even better. He looked down at you to get a better view of you. You looked up at him with what looked almost like an innocent face, but your action was far from it. The way you moved your head up and down just to make him cum again aroused him so much. He moaned and whimpered, feeling his release start to approach. His head tilted back while he arched his back slightly. His was exposing more of his neck while he did this.

"Mmhp! I'm going to- ah~ cum! gonna cum~! P-please let me~!" He whimpered

You only left the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking and slurping it beautifully while your hand rubbed the rest of his shaft, making him not able to last anymore. After a few seconds, he came on to your tongue, earning a loud, desperate moan. You could taste how sweet he was but you didn't swallow yet. You took him out of your mouth to open your mouth wide open for him to see how much he came into it. He blushed and started to become hard again at the sight, slightly whimpering again.

You swallow his cum and kissed his cock "such a good boy".

💜FYODOR💜

Fyodor is a very prideful man, so he would try his best to not fully express how he's feeling, but you know he's trying to hide it. Fyodor let you top him because you insisted you could make him feel just as good as he makes you, so here you are, jumping on his cock even after he came a couple times. His cum making it easier for you to move. Fyodor kept his moaning to a minimum but every once in awhile he'd let out short gasps or small moans. He is still human after all and it's a normal body function when your being overstimulated.

"Why are you hiding your voice Fedya? Mmn~ I want to know how good I'm making you feel" you moaned slightly while smirking

"Mnn~ well maybe you have to try a bit harder, darling~" he said while smirking as well

You pouted a bit but you knew he was trying his best to keep calm. You could feel how much his cock was throbbing inside of you, clearly Loving how your walls clench around him. You grabbed his hand and pressed it against ur stomach. "Can you feel how deep you are inside of me? Ah~ How your cock aches and twitches inside me~ you feel so fucking good mmn!- your the only one who can make me feel this good~"

He whimpered quietly from the feeling. He turned his head away from you. Eyes closed with a slight smile on his face. "Ah- hmm~ feeling is mutual...so please keep doing what your doing" he said trying not to sound to desperate.

"Mmnph! But it'd be amazing if you let me hear your voice..please Fedya~"

He looked at your eyes as if he was contemplating, but he decided to give into your desire and he laid his head on the pillow, eyes closed and moaning deeply. He truly was gorgeous. It made you squeeze him tighter and made you go rougher, making him moan more.

"Ahh~! Fedya do you want to come? Your close aren't you?" You clenched his hair, making him throb more.

"Mnn- yes, moya lyubov mph~ since you want it so bad" he still tried not to sound desperate

"But do you want to cum? Mmn~ it doesn't sound like you want to" you looked at him with pleading eyes

"Hmm~ of course, lyubov mmn- there's nothing more I want than to fill you up" his small smile never going away

"Then let me hear how much you want to cum..p-please~!"

He seemed pleased by how much you've been begging to hear him moan, so he will at least grant you this small wish. He knew it would make you go over the edge anyway. He started to moan loudly, but not too loud. He told you small praises just to throw you over the edge a little more and before you knew it you came before him. His voice is just so heavenly.

"Hm~? And I thought you were the one supposed to please me" his smirk was wider

You still kept going. Didn't stop a single moment even though you were now the one being overstimulated, But the sight you left before Fyodor was definitely the cherry on top for him. Seeing you become a mess just for him was enough to make him loose control. The way you bounced on him while your body seemed it's about to give up. How you couldn't even form sentences anymore and only moans.

He then came inside you with a loud groan. His cock twitching inside you as it filled you up with his hot cum. You came again with a loud moan. Both of you were out of breath and still feeling just pure euphoria throughout your bodies. You both panted and breath heavily from your climaxes. He smiled slightly when your body laid limp on his chest. He caressed and kissed your head as you tried to calm down from your high. He was really desperate to come inside you once again, but not before making you into a mess.

💙ATSUSHI💙

You were bouncing on Atsushi's cock. He's been cumming so many times inside of you, but his body seems to still not have enough of you. He was a whimpering mess. Atsushi's hands were gripping on ur hips so tightly that it'll for sure be leaving marks. He's been telling you sweet nothing's, which only made you feel electricity throughout your body. Even during this lustful and sinful act you two were doing, His words were nothing but pure and beautiful. He always had a way with words that would touch your soul.

"Mmph~! Y-your so ah! Beautif-ful aggh~! You make me f-feel so g-good~!" He moans while caressing your cheek. His eyes were full of awe

"Atsushi~ mmn~ your literally breath taking agh~! I've never felt this good~" you whimpered

His cock twitches everytime you give him praise. He loves to know that he's satisfying you in any way, especially when your being intimate. "F-Fuck~ I love y-you s-so much- AH~!" He whimpers as he rests his forehead against yours.

"I-love you too~ your literally Mph!~ perfect" you clench his hair gently.

The way you clenched his hair and say something like that, he couldn't handle it. He throws his head all the way back as he arches his back. Your becoming too much for him and he couldn't hold back anymore.

he gasps slightly "I-im g-gonna MMN! i-im gonna cum! P-please don't s-stop nngh! y-you feel so fucking good ah ah~ c-cumming.. cumming!"

He thrusts up into you, making sure his cum is shot deep inside of you. He moans so loud that you had to kiss his lips to muffle out his moan. You still feel him pumping his cum deep inside you, almost like he's never gonna stop. You give him a kiss on the cheek after he calms down from his high. His eyes looking like he's seeing heaven as he panted heavily.

"You've been such a good boy for me" you smile softly

He looked at you with those same soft eyes "and your such a beautiful woman, y/n"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

Your tongue wrapped around Chuuya's dick was enough to make him moan so much. Even after cumming many times, your mouth never left his pretty cock. You loved the way his body twitched aggressively when he came inside you as he moans, it was so addictive. The feeling was mutual for him too. The feeling of your mouth sucking him off was definitely addicting for him and he could never get tired of the pleasurable sensation your tongue brought to him.

"F-fucking hell doll~ ah~! You can't get enough of me or what? MMN!~ not like I'm complaining " he groans with a slight smirk as he looks down at you.

You never left his cock out of your mouth even if he was taking to you. Your mind was just focused on making him feel good. He loved seeing how desperate you were for his cum.

"S-shit! Nnngh~! Feels so f-fucking good! Please don't stop~" he moaned

You went at a faster pace and made sure his tip was reaching the back of your throat, even if you were gagging, you were just desperate to make him cum again. He put his hand behind your head to make your movement faster. The action made you gag more but you honestly didn't mind, It only made you more wet.He arched his back and tilted his head back

he groaned "AH~ F-FUCK~! y-yes, doll~ gonna cum~ g-gonna cum so good down your pretty little throat~ MMN~!"

A few more thrusts and he whimpered loudly when he came deep down your throat. You felt his legs tremble and stomach twitching. His eyes shut tight with clenched teeth. You took every drop of his cum as he filled your throat with it. It was honestly so stimulating. Before you could do anything, he caressed your cheek as he panted

"I want to see....you swallow, doll...if that's not too much to ask"

You blushed as you looked at him with enticing eyes. His cock still inside your mouth. You swallowed his cum in one gulp. He smirked slightly before pulling his cock out of your mouth. You coughed a bit, but he then kissed your forehead lovingly "damn your good, dollface" He says that you can't get enough of him but he also can't get enough of you.

💛SIGMA💛

You were jumping on Sigma's cock quickly. His cock was covered by his previous orgasms and your cunt was filled. His cum made you able to jump faster of his dick and more pleasurable for him. Even though he was out of breath and looked pathetic, he looked so elegant and precious. He truly was a gorgeous man, even if he came from unnatural origins, his body sure acted like a real man. His grip on your hips were tight as he whimpered and moaned loudly from overstimulation.

He shut his eyes tight "Mmn~! Too- ah~! Much, y/n~!" He whimpered

You kissed his cheek and smirked "mmmn~ Your cock is throbbing aggressively. It's feel so good~ you want to cum more, don't you?"

He twitched from the praise "Ngh~! There's no more~ ah~!" His grip became tighter

You cupped his cheek to make him look at you in the eyes "That's ridiculous, love~ mmn~ let me prove it you" you smiled

Your pace became more rough and fast. His head fell back with his mouth agape from moaning loudly. His dick only getting bigger the more he rubbed against your tight walls. His cock pulsating even more as he felt another orgasm coming

"AH~! S-Shit~! Ngh~! too good! I'm gonna~!" He whimpered before shooting his load inside you once again, filling you up as if he's trying to impregnate you. He moaned loudly from his climax

He breathed heavily as he tried to calm down from his high. You kissed his lips before looking into his eyes "You look pretty when you cum, Sigma. It's addicting~"

His eyes were soft and gentle as he still pants "I'm glad the feeling is mutual"

You smirk as you lean into his ear "no matter how many times you cum, your body still wants more~" you said as you touched his already hard cock.

he whimpered and shivered the second he felt your hand on his sensitive dick. You smirked wider before saying "maybe one more round will do"

❤️TECCHOU❤️

The man is the strongest hunting dog. The man has a LOT of stamina. It would a lot to get him overstimulated and tired, but you've managed to do so. You just feel too good and he was getting overwhelmed by the pleasure.You lost count after a couple of rounds, but you've been jumping on his cock for a long time. His eyes were closed while his body was trembling a little. His face was overwhelmed by the pleasure, but even though he was in ecstacy, he would not make a loud sound. His hands were gripping tightly onto your hips

"How are you feeling, love?" You caress his cheek gently

He gulped and leaned into your touch "You feel like..heaven, dear" he catched his breath mid sentence.

You jumped a little rougher which made him clench his teeth and arch his back slightly. His eyes open slightly and he stared at where you two were connected. You clenched his hair gently, making him gasp softly

"Come one ah~ let me hear your voice~" you pleaded softly

He looked down for a second. He seemed embarrassed to let you hear his moans and whimpers, but if that's what you want from him then he will deliver it just for you, but he still needed more encouragement. He was still clenching his teeth as he blushed slightly.

You caressed his muscles gently "Please~? Your moans turn me on~" you whispered in his ear

He trembled more when you caressed his muscles. He laid his head back and let out a deep long moan. Hearing his moan turned you on and encouraged you to jump faster. You were both moaning slightly loud and twitching from the pleasure.

"I- oh God~ ngh~! D-dont stop~" Tecchou moaned with his cheeks sightly blushed

Hearing his words made you jump at a desperate and quick pace. He arched his back while moaning. His mind was blank. He only thought of the pleasure and you. He was unconsciously thrusting upwards. He couldn't handle it anymore.

His dug his nails into your hips "Ngh~! I can't anymore i- "

He quickly pulled himself out of you and then groaned loud while he shot his load on your stomach and chest. You came after him with a loud moan from the beautiful moans and sight he presented you with. He was out of breath and sweating

You giggle softly and kiss his cheek while you were out of breath "You did well, love"

You saw a small smile on his lips as he panted "so did you"

Please check out my Wattpad book! Wattpad deleted my book for breaking their policies so I have to start off from scratch. I'd appreciate it greatly if you check it out ❤️🙏. My Wattpad account is @Coolyiooo

[dollfacefantasy]

neglect kink with older leon???!!?!? like… you’re super horny whining and begging for his attention and he’s just. completely ignoring you. maybe he eventually lets you cockwarm him but he’s still ignoring you… the only way you know he’s enjoying this is because he’s still hard… no sounds or nothing. you’re so desperate for ANYTHING a kiss, a touch, literally any words at all but he’s just focused on his work!!! maybe daddy kink because everything needs daddy kink… maybe, like, you did something bad so this is your punishment… i don’t know… maybe he gives you the attention eventually or not!!!!

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you've been bad, but you never seem to learn from spankings. leon has to try something new to remind you why you should be a good girl.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cockwarming, masturbation, overstimulation, daddy kink, praise/degradation, age difference, dom/sub stuff (rules, punishment, etc.)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: you're so right, everything does need daddy kink <3 thank you for the request, love. i hope it's what you were wanting. i imagine post-DI leon for this so he's a bit older, but i just used DI for the pic. anyhow, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

Your deep breaths and soft whimpers had overtaken the quiet murmur of the tv in your bedroom. An old movie played on it, one you had seen time and time again. It no longer had your attention. Instead, you’re focusing on playing with the pulsing bud between your legs. Your fingers thrum back and forth over the sensitive spot, hips pushing down against the mattress as sparks fly in your belly.

Technically, you weren’t supposed to be doing this. It was one of the rules you agreed to when Leon had approached you with some things he wanted to try out for your sex life, just a small set of guidelines to play with. ‘No touching yourself without daddy’s permission' had been listed among others. He counted each one on his fingers as he did, and you nodded your head and looked up at him with your sweet set of eyes. The same set that now flutters with ecstasy as you played your forbidden game. But as long as he didn’t know, it was fine, right?

Your heels dig into the blankets beneath you while your breasts rise and sink with each inhale and exhale. You feel that hot sensation between your legs, the tightening cord, the boiling pleasure. You’re about to let it loose until you hear the front door open and shut, keys clatter on the table, and the familiar grunt Leon does when he slips his shoes off, using the tip of one on the heel of the other.

You nearly miss these little cues because of the rain clashing against your windows, but in a stroke of luck, you catch it all and tear your hand out of your shorts at light speed. Leon’s just walking into the bedroom as you drape the blanket over yourself. Shifting around a little to get comfy, you then gaze up at him, putting some tenderness into your eyes in hopes of throwing him off your scent.

As he gets closer, you take in his appearance. Little droplets of water on the shoulders of his jacket from the rain outside. Shiny hair fresh from the shower he took this morning, shaggy bangs hanging down into his face. Tired glaze over his eyes, work must not have been a walk in the park. 

Once he approaches you, he raises his eyebrows, and for a second, you’re sure you’ve been found out. But all he does is sit next to you on the edge of the bed and run a hand over your head. His eyes fixate on you as if he’s studying your features. Your heart pounds, waiting to hear the words belt, over my knee, or sore & stinging leave his lips, but they don’t.

“Been having a nice day, baby?” he asks you, petting your head a few more times.

“Mhm,” you respond. Innocent enough.

“That’s good. What have you been doing?” he asks. Oh fuck.

“Um, just watching a movie,” you answer.

“Yeah? That all?” he continues. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Pretty much. It’s all rainy out. Don’t really feel like getting out of bed,” you say with a casual shrug.

He nods. It seems like an approving gesture, but you could swear there’s a little knowing glint in his eyes. Maybe that’s just your imagination. Hopefully, that’s just your imagination.

“Alright. I gotta go finish up some work for a while, just wanted to check on you first. Keep being a good girl for me,” he tells you. He gives you a small pat on the ass before getting up and walking out of the room as quickly as he had entered.

Your body relaxes, and your pulse descends to normal levels. Maybe you did pull it off. Heist of the century in your book. You settle in to truly just pay attention to the tv for now, but it’s not as simple as it should be when you’re still so pent up. You’d just breached the threshold of release, before you were torn out and back to reality. You could feel the slick that had gathered between your legs, the ache in your clit calling out to your fingers.

The thought of continuing does cross your mind. It would be so easy. Without any suspicion on you, all you would have to do is clamp a hand over your mouth and rub slower so the bed didn't creak. Plus, when he went in his office, he usually worked until the evening anyway. You could cum and be done with it before he had the slightest idea.

No, no, no. You told him you’d be a good girl. You wouldn’t wanna break daddy’s heart by being bad, right? No, you wanted to make him proud. You resign to wait until he wants to play with you. He always did; you can’t recall a night he left you wanting. So you lay on your side, eyes focused on the blue-tinted screen across the room, and keep it together.

But hours go by. And then more hours go by. You keep yourself occupied, marathoning nearly an entire franchise of movies, eating, going on your phone. But none of it fills the Leon-shaped void inside you.

This was the longest he’d ever been in that office. He never worked in there into the night. He always told you that he tried to spend as little time in there as possible. That’s time that could be spent with his good girl, that’s what he told you. Only you hadn’t been a good girl today.

You shake your head, and tell the stupid little voice inside to zip it. He seemed tired, remember? This is probably just an extension of that. He knew he’d have to come home and be in his office all day. It was all a coincidence, this whole thing. There was literally no way he could know what you’d been doing. But daddy knows you better than you know yourself.

Oh god. This was like some form of torture, you’re sure of it. Self-inflicted, or was it really? He was the one who’d made you this way. Whatever. Enough was enough. There was no reason to be paranoid. You could literally just go ask him. Sort this out and soothe your anxiety, so you can go back to waiting patiently like the good girl that you are.

Pushing the covers to the side, you slide out of bed and head down the hall to his office as thunder crackles outside. A gentle push on one of the French doors leads you into the room you rarely entered. Despite that, you liked it in here. Leon’s desk faced away from the door, towards the window that looked out onto the street. The curtains were drawn now, brown fringe overlapping with the spare cushions on the window seat below it. Some bookshelves lined the walls perpendicular to his desk, though you never had the time to actually check their contents.

You walk a few paces into the room. Your eyes cast over to him. He doesn’t even look like he’s doing much for someone working into the night, but who are you to judge? You step over a crinkle in the rug to stand in front of his desk. Your hands rest on the hardwood as you gaze at him over the monitor of his computer.

“Hi,” you say simply.

He nods. A movement so vague that he could’ve told you his head twitched, and you’d believe him.

“Whatcha doing?” you ask.

“Work.”

You stare at him for a moment. Sure, he wasn’t normally super chatty, but he also wasn’t usually so clipped. He knows.

“How’s it going?” you say.

You’re met with a shrug. You have to up your efforts.

Circling around his desk, you position yourself behind him and wrap your arms over his shoulders. You drag your nose against his cheek like an affectionate kitten and kiss the skin a few times.

“How much longer you gonna be in here?” you ask. Your voice remains gentle and undemanding.

“A while,” he grunts. The clacking of the keyboards starts up again, and his eyes remain locked on the documents in front of him.

“But you’ve been in here for hours,” you point out and feign a pout.

“And I’ll be in here for even more if you keep bothering me,” he says with a little gesture that wasn’t fully shrugging you off but at the same time was shrugging you off.

Ouch. Your pout was no longer feigned. You stand up straight and walk back to where you stood originally. He still doesn’t spare you even the smallest of glances.

“Can I stay in here with you?” you ask hesitantly.

“If you want to,” he says. Wow. Not that he wanted you to, no. If you wanted to. Sure, people could call you sensitive for being upset about that, you don’t care. You’re tempted to leave with a huff, slamming the door behind you, but now you’re even more curious if he was aware of your illicit afternoon activities. You kinda hope he is at this point because at least that would give a reason for his icy attitude.

You walk over to the one other chair in the room. Yeah, there was the window seat, but as pretty as you’d made it for him, decorating it with little throw pillows and cute coverings, it wasn’t very comfortable. You plop down on the corduroy cushioning of the beaten-up seat in the corner. with a sigh. Bringing your legs up over the armrest, you lean back against the opposite one and scan the room out of boredom. Your feet swing back and forth absentmindedly as you puff breaths of disinterest from between your lips.

You really try to give him time to finish, but it feels like he’s taking actual eternity. Also, it sounds like he’s barely doing anything, and now you are going to judge because he’s cutting into your precious personal time with him. You stare at him for several minutes, keeping your eyes locked on his face. Unlike any normal person who’d get uncomfortable, he just continues “working.” Finally, you crack.

“How’s it going?” you ask.

No response.

“Are you almost done?” you try again.

Nothing.

Your eyes darken, your frown growing. “Leonnnnn,” you whine.

And still absolutely nothing. You have one more weapon in your arsenal. If this doesn’t work, you know you’ll just have to pack it up for the night.

“Daddy…” you whimper, using the softest voice you could manage, the one that always shot right through him. You jut your bottom lip out a bit more and put that pleading in your eyes. After this, all you have is literal tears, and you’re hoping it doesn’t go to that point.

Leon knows this, and he doesn’t want it to get that far either. He finally spins his chair in your direction. His eyes land on your face. He has to repress the smirk rising to his face over your neediness.

“Funny how that name seems to always slip out most when you want something,” he replies.

At least he wasn’t ignoring you anymore. “All I want is your attention…” you say, keeping up your sweet performance.

“Oh yeah?” he taunts, “Tell me, baby. Were you thinking of daddy today when you were home alone?”

Your eyes dart away from his face, but you force them back. You couldn’t blow this by being too obvious, so you respond with a simple nod.

“I thought so, princess. What else would have had you so riled up today when I came home? It wouldn’t be because you were breaking one of your rules, would it?” he asks. His tone was obviously leading. He knew. You were so desperate for him though that at this point you were starting to think a spanking wouldn’t be that bad. At least it was some form of physical contact to sate you.

“I wasn’t riled up earlier,” you say quietly with a little shrug.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re not lying are you? Cause that’s another rule. Two broken rules in one day. That wounds me, babydoll,” he says.

“I’m not breaking any rules. I’m being honest,” you say.

“So you being all squirmy, hot skin, heavy breathing; that wasn’t you being riled up? Is daddy imagining things now? Do I not know what my girl looks like when she’s aching for me?” he asks, “What she looks like when she’s been trying to solve her little problem herself?”

Finally, he unveils his reasoning. You freeze and stare at him, trying to think of what to say. Even though you wanted attention, there was still that innate part of you that hated being in trouble. You’d much rather be perched on his lap to be loved on like the precious thing you were.

“I don’t know what you mean,” is your weak attempt at an excuse. He laughs and leans back in his chair, the old springs creaking with his motion.

“Did you put your fingers inside or just play with that pretty little clit?” he asks, eyes boring into you as he goes for the kill.

“Just my clit…” you mumble and look down.

Shaking his head again, he turns back to his computer. You watch him, expecting him to start in on you again. To lecture you about your impatience. Tease you about your borderline pathetic need for him. Take you over his knee and crack you on the ass while making you repeat each of your rules back to him.

But none of this happens. Instead, this man just goes back to straight up ignoring you. Your jaw drops and a confused whine comes from your throat. “Daddy, c’mon. I’m sorry,” you say.

He resumes typing, fingers gliding over the keys and eyes fixed on the little words appearing in front of him. You groan in frustration and sink back against the brown ribbed fabric of your chair. You glare at him from your place, trying to telepathically will him into entertaining you again. You must be lacking in mental communication though because he doesn’t change what he’s doing at all. One of your thighs crosses over the other, unintentionally giving your pussy a little friction.

That’s what made this all the more frustrating, you were still unsatisfied from earlier. You should’ve just made yourself cum like you wanted. You’d be in trouble either way. You could only hope he’d take it easy on you now for having chosen the former.

Different scenarios run through your head for how you want to play this. A spectrum of possibilities lies in front of you. On one end, you could just leave. Keep whatever dignity you had left, cut your losses, and go to bed. On the other, you could be over the top. Hop in his lap and smother him with a flurry of kisses before he could object. Either one would probably only earn you more punishment, so you try to think of a middle ground. A way to continue the game.

As you think, your right hand lazily runs up and down your chest. Your middle finger coasts over the area spanning from the valley between your breasts to your navel. Taking your lip between your teeth, you decide to start here. Your fingers move to your tits and round your nipples. The buds harden into small peaks beneath your shirt. You pinch and pull at them gently, and your cunt flutters in response to the teasing. You shift your hips up before shimmying your shorts off and letting them drop to the ground beside your chair.

You reposition yourself next to sit properly in the chair. Your heels come to rest on the plush cushion as you spread your legs and expose your damp panties to him. Not that he bothered to look.

Now your fingers moved down there. They pet your most sensitive area over the thin, wet cloth. Your breath hitches as your fingertips brush over your clit. You press down a little harder and make a soft breathy whine. His eyes flit in your direction, but they don’t linger. Take what you can get, you guess.

You slide your digits back down and massage your dripping entrance. The fabric becomes more wet as you rub it on your slick folds. Your middle and ring finger move in tandem to stoke the flames down there and to ensure the fabric is completely soaked. Once that mission is accomplished, you lift your hips for the second time to remove this garment. Only you don’t drop it to the floor. This time you toss them in his direction, landing them on his desk, lace half covering one of his wrists, half covering a section of his keyboard.

The sound of typing halts, putting the room into silence, spare the raindrops splatting against the window. His eyes remain stern and not on you. Without even looking down, he wads the panties up and shoves them in his pocket. The sound of typing resumes.

“Daddy,” you huff, “I got ‘em all wet just for you.”

He still doesn’t acknowledge you. You let out a growl of sorts and narrow your eyes at him. Your fingers slip through your arousal coating your center. You pay more attention to your clit now that it’s exposed.

“I just missed you so much today. I couldn’t help it,” you reason.

You whimper and squirm in your chair as you start rubbing faster. Your eyes are still locked on him, watching for the slightest crack in his resolve. So far there are none. You continue toying with yourself.

“I was thinking of you the whole time,” you whimper, “That should count for something. I was imagining your hands and your eyes looking down at me. I was pretending I could hear your voice.”

He remains unaffected. Your head tilts back against the plush cushioning as your hips rock in place. You mewl softly which soon turns into a long, drawn-out whine. Finally, he shifts in his seat a little, and you know right away it’s cause he’s starting to get hard.

“I just love you so much, daddy. Can’t control myself when you’re not around,” you say, further chipping away at the little dent in his stoic facade.

Your moans increase in volume as does the slippery sounds coming from your fingers moving through your slick. That feeling from this afternoon is starting to come back. Pleasure builds in your abdomen, one piece stacking on top of the other. You’re shaking more, voice getting less even with each little cry of joy. He finally turns to look at you when you start doing that thing you do when you’re about to cum, the ultra-specific puff of your chest that rolls through your abdomen to your hips. His eyes capture yours, unamused with your antics.

“If you cum right now, a spanking is the only kind of attention you’ll be getting until you learn some self-control,” he tells you.

In an instant, your fingers sputter to a stop. Your mind bounces back and forth on what to do like a metronome. But as always, your craving for Leon’s approval wins out over every other option. You remove your hand from between your legs and even sit up, closing your thighs. Maybe now, he’ll see you’re being good and cut you some slack.

Yeah, right.

He goes back to his computer. Again. You’re about to lose your mind or explode, you aren’t sure which will come first. Standing from the chair, you start walking to his desk. He still didn’t look at you! How rude, you’d think that the touching yourself rule was his favorite or something even though you knew it wasn’t. That title belonged to the rule that let him pick your outfit whenever the two of you went out.

A few paces in his direction, and you’re back right where you started. Arms looped over his shoulders, nuzzling your face against his cheek, and kissing the side of his head. “I said I’m sorry daddy,” you say softly, “I’m really really really really sorry. I know I was a bad girl, but only for that.”

He grunts and scoots closer to his desk, away from your embrace. A noise of exasperation leaves you, and without thinking, you roll the chair back a couple inches and embrace him again, only tighter. A grin rises on your face when you see the bulge that had formed in his lap.

“Pretty please? I’ll take whatever punishment. I don’t want daddy to be mad at me anymore,” you plead and give him some more pecks on the cheek. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, pantless and visibly horny, but that wasn’t a true concern at this moment in time.

“Go to bed,” he states simply, “I’ll deal with you later.”

That wasn’t good enough. You wanted him now.

“Daddy,” you whine, stretching out the last syllable. You lower yourself to your knees and slink down in front of his chair. “C’mon, I said it like a million billion trillion times. Can’t we just kiss and make up?”

He stares down at you, not impressed with your show of submission. He was playing harder than usual. He knew that wouldn’t deter you though. You squish your cheek against his thighs as your hands creep up his legs.

“Do I have to make a special apology?” you ask, looking up at him with puppy eyes.

He pushes your hands away as they reach his thighs. “Quit it,” he growls, “Let me finish my work and maybe we can work something out.”

But you don’t quit it. You move yourself closer to one of his legs, preparing to put on a little show for him if need be. Your eyes don’t quit and neither does the pleading expression on your mouth.

“But I need my daddy now,” you huff, “I-”

And that’s it. You’re cut off by Leon reaching down and yanking you into his lap.

“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he grunts, “Ready to hump my leg like a bitch in heat cause I don’t give you attention for a couple hours.”

You squirm a bit as his hands rub up and down your sides and squeeze your hips. He stills you with a firm slap to your ass. Both of your eyes gaze into the others, the small spheres swirling with arousal, annoyance, and adoration.

“I just missed you. I would’ve left you alone if you weren’t so mean to me,” you point out.

“Who says I have to be nice to you? You don’t get to decide when you wanna listen based on that,” he says and pulls you to his chest. You lean in against the muscular expanse while his hand snakes between the two of you to get at his button and zipper. “Your job is being a good girl. Not just when you feel like it. Not only when daddy’s giving you kisses and calling you pretty. The only time you stop is when I say, and that didn’t happen today did it? Am I imagining things again?”

“No,” you agree reluctantly, “But I-”

“Cut your yapping out. I’ve heard enough. Give me some quiet or I’ll put those panties to good use,” he threatens.

As your lips fall shut, you hear the tug of his zipper and feel him shift as he takes himself out. Now you’re really quiet, more from anticipation than obedience.

“Now I’m gonna let you sit on my cock, but that’s it. No squirming, no ‘getting comfy,’ no whining, no ‘but daddy.’ You act up too much, and I’m truly sending your ass to bed for the night.”

You look up at him and nod, not even speaking because you didn’t want to cut your chances at dick off before they started.

“Good,” he says.

One of his hands helps elevate you so that he can position his length underneath you. The tip slips through your folds, already soaked from your prior escapades. He doesn’t tease too much, wasn’t interested in hearing you beg right now. He’d heard enough of that for tonight. He pushes you down onto it. His mouth twitches, and he sucks in a deep breath as he feels the warmth of your walls engulf his cock.

You slide all the way down with ease. Looking back at his face again, you feel the insatiable urge to give him a little kiss. If you did that though, would that be one of the things you aren’t supposed to be doing?

“Daddy… can I have a little kiss first?” you ask.

He merely shoots you a look that tells you don’t push it.

With a final look of defeat, you nestle yourself against his chest, head on his shoulder so you can look up at his face. He was so focused. If you didn’t know you were here, you never would suspect he’d be up to this level of multitasking.

You let out a sigh. It was nice being full, but you still yearned for more. You were really trying to be good though, so there wasn’t much for you to do. Minutes tick by as you try in earnest to think of a potential solution. To make matters worse, at a certain point, after you’d been on his dick for a while, his hand starts roaming your back. A soothing touch that made your walls flutter around him. He knew it would too, you could tell from that little smirk on his face.

Trying to focus on the positives, you mentally study every feature of his cock that you can feel. It’s so deep, he’s resting right against the spot that could drive you wild when properly battered. It pulsed rhythmically, twitching slightly when your muscles would contract or release around his shaft.

You’re actually doing better than expected, letting your mind wander. But then, he’s the one to move a bit under the guise of necessary readjustment. The whimper that falls from your lips is inevitable. He shushes you, and you mutter an apology, but that simple movement was enough to reignite the fire in your belly.

You bite your lip, the neediness in your eyes intensifying. “Daddy?” you whisper, testing the waters.

Nothing.

So he had gone back to this? Not if you could help it. You don’t bother speaking again. Instead, you move the tiniest bit, rolling your hips as you act like you’re shifting to alleviate a cramp. To your shock, he doesn’t say anything, just shifts his hips a bit in return.

You glance up hopefully. Maybe he was going to ease up, but he just didn’t want to verbally admit it. You move a little more, but this time, you’re a bit too zealous in your attempt. His hands grab your hips and dig into your flesh, keeping you in place.

You’re so pent up and frustrated. Your forehead thuds back onto his shoulder. “Ple-”

“What did I say?” he asks.

“But da-”

“What did I say?” he asks again and tightens his grip.

“I just wanna cum,” you whimper, “It hurts, been achy all day.”

“Oh it hurts, does it?” he mocks. He jerks your hips to give you some fleeting friction while maintaining his control. “What is it about today that’s making it so hard for you to listen?”

“I-” you start to defend yourself out of instinct but can’t actually come up with anything. “I don’t know.”

“That’s right you don’t. So quit acting like you do. You think with that slutty little pussy, and then act like you don’t need daddy to make the decisions. It’s a little disappointing, babydoll,” he scolds.

Your eyes flicker with every stage of grief as he says this. That’s literally the worst thing he could say. He could call you any name in the book and you’d brush it off with an eyeroll or a “hmph.” But disappointing? That was evil. That word could worm its way into your heart and weigh on you for days.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly in a desperate attempt to remedy, “I just… I’m so pent up. Can’t think with my head when my pussy keeps distracting me.”

“Oh, poor baby,” he mocks with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“That’s why I have to cum,” you plead, “I need it. It’s not even the same when I do it. I should’ve just waited. I’m sorry.”

“You need it?” he repeats, “So fuckin’ spoiled. I give you some dick even when you don’t deserve it, and it’s still not enough. I gotta train some gratitude into you next.”

“You’re the one who spoils me,” you pout.

“Oh, so it’s all my fault? So you’re saying I shouldn’t be so easy on you, huh?” he challenges.

You shake your head as fast as humanly possible, now set on backtracking your fuck up. But it was too late. “No, I was just sayi-” you start before he cuts you off yet again.

“And just when I was about to start fucking you too? That’s a damn shame,” he says.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head more. This had gone from a slight improvement to a downward spiral.

“I mean, why would I bother now? All you care about is getting to cum. Don’t care about all the work daddy puts in to make you feel good the entire time,” he taunts, “If that’s the case, then go ahead. Cum. Take what you want, but don’t you dare move those hips.”

Your look of anguish evolves into that of confusion. You don’t really want to question him right now, but you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to follow that command. “I can’t…” you say softly.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Not enough,” you answer.

“Then make it enough,” he growls, “You were having so much fun today with those fingers. They don’t work anymore?”

Oh. Your face feels hot as the realization dawns on you. You shyly bring your hand to your center and awkwardly fumble with your clit. You look at him, silently begging to ride him.

“You can do better than that,” he responds, “You were putting on such a show earlier, so don’t act like you need my help all the sudden.”

Shamefully, your fingers pick up some speed. You whimper as the pads of your digits rub over a sensitive spot. The whole time he’s still inside you. It felt kind of weird, but still good. You weren’t going to complain. Your upper body twitches a bit, but he holds you straight up, making sure you're looking at him while you work.

“That’s it. How’s it feeling, baby? Is it as good as when daddy does it?” he taunts.

“No…” you whimper, “It’s ok.”

“Aw, well, it’s gonna have to be good enough for now because it’s the only way you’re cumming.”

You groan and whine at the statement. It was the truth, but that didn’t mean you wanted to hear it. You start circling faster and flicking your hand with more urgency. Your head falls back at the sensations as a breathy moan floats from your lips. He squeezes your hips again as you tighten around his cock from the euphoria you brought yourself.

“Look at that. Think you’re gonna be able to cum all by yourself?” he teases.

You nod. Your hips rock involuntarily as the pleasure ramps up, but his grip keeps you stationary. Little gasps like the ones from earlier when you were in the chair escape you. Your fingers move almost like they’re automated.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please can I finish?” you whimper, “Wanna cum so bad, daddy, please?”

“I already gave you permission, baby. Guess you really wanna show me how good you actually are,” he chuckles.

You can’t even say anything back before the switch flips inside you and release tears through you. Your back stiffens up and a strangled rope of moans come out of you. Your hips jerk harder than before, giving you brief brushes with the head of his cock. He sighs contentedly as you flutter around his cock and provide him with a muted sense of bliss.

You’re still riding it out when his hands are no longer just holding you, but rather, beginning to bounce you. You feel it in your cunt before your brain even catches up with the general motion of your body. It’s because you’re still so sensitive. The tingly stab pulling a quiet shriek from you.

“Daddy, gimme a break,” you whine.

“What? Daddy doesn’t deserve to finish too? Is that what you think? You just get to have your fun, and leave me to deal with it. That’s not how it works, princess,” he says.

“I’m not- I didn’t… I just can’t… it’s too much,” you struggle to get out between the whimpers coming from you. He keeps bouncing you, groaning as that hushed ecstasy blossoms into an encompassing euphoria. The noises of him sliding in and out are nearly louder than all the whining and moaning you’re doing.

“You can take it,” he grunts, “I’ll say when you’ve had enough.”

You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain as his hips start to meet your hips guided by his hands. A deep groan rumbles in his chest as your cunt’s constant contracting massages his length. After a while, it feels like you’re almost numb down there. The fire still rages in your belly, but your actual pussy has been beaten into submission by your boyfriend’s cock. He watches your face as he moves you, relishing the way your eyes are getting glossy with a cocktail of tears, both of overstimulation and relief.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart. Gonna be even prettier when you cum again all over my dick and milk me dry,” he grunts.

“Uh huh,” you moan without thinking, head wildly falling back and forth in what’s supposed to be a nod.

Soon enough, his chest and belly are tightening up. He knows the end is near and pistons into your cunt extra hard for the finale. You wail and grip his biceps for support as you explode. You didn’t ask to cum this time, but being so close to his own release, he couldn’t really find it to care.

He keeps going through your orgasm, practically making you sob in pleasure. You feel impossibly tight, warm, and wet. And when he sees how your precious face is getting tight too, scrunching up as you reach the peak of the peak, he can’t hold it off.

His fingers dig into your hips so hard that you feel like the future bruises are already there. Your eyes are rolled back in advance as he fires his cum deep inside you. A goofy smile graces his features as he pumps it in, enjoying the waves of pleasure that wash over him throughout. And the whole time you’re pulsing away through your own release. 

You look even dumber than he does, silly smile not just on your lips, but visible in your eyes too. You’re whimpering, extra whiny and a higher pitch. He rubs your skin to remind you he’s right there. He can see your head coming back to reality as the whirlpool of ecstasy subsides.

“Oh that’s it, there’s my good girl,” he coos as you finally reach the end of the high. His hand rubs your back in long, even strokes. “So proud of you, sunshine.”

A dreamy, self-satisfied grin comes across your face. His words were the best drugs while you were in this state, and the tone of his voice only made them that much more addictive.

“Such a good girl,” he repeats, “Now how ‘bout you give daddy a kiss.”

Eagerly you boost yourself towards his lips to connect in a hazy smooch. You’re a bit sloppy with it, but he expected that and found it cute. Of course you were dizzy. He just fucked you stupid. Once you pull away, he strokes your hair and smiles at your blissed out face.

“Aw, cutie. Looks like it’s time for you to head to bed,” he says as his fingers move to rub your cheek.

“You too. I wanna cuddle,” you say, locking your arms around him.

“Mhm, I’ll be right behind you. I gotta finish up the last of this. Now that I don’t have you distracting me, it should only take about fifteen minutes,” he teases.

“That’s like a million years, and I already had to wait all day,” you sigh dramatically.

“Then I’m sure you can handle a few more minutes,” he says and rubs his nose against yours, “Don’t start getting mouthy with me, little love. I still have those panties I can easily turn into a gag.”

With a playful glare, you get up on wobbly legs to make your exit, dizzy smile still plastered on your face. You start to stumble to the door when he calls out to you.

“Wow princess, not even going to say good night to daddy? I expected better from my baby,” he chides teasingly.

You roll your eyes while smiling and return to him to smack one final big kiss on his lips. “Night daddy,” you say with a small giggle.

He smirks at your clear happiness. As you turn to leave, he swats your ass. “I’ll be right there. Bet you’ll already be passed out by the time I get there,” he says as his fingers start working the keyboard again.

“I’ll be dreaming of you though,” you tease before going out the doors and down the hall to your bed.

[uolarieclosed]

yang jungwon ☆ ! only about love

━━━ in which mr player decides to settle down with his one and only …

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who is the biggest player on the team, finding joy in messing with other people’s feelings for his own pleasure.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who became a player after you—the team’s manager rejected him.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who flirts with girls in front of you and gives them his number to see your reaction; but sulks when you don’t say anything.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who pretends to injure himself so you can be concerned for him.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who writes your name on his hockey stick before taping it up, knowing you’re on the ice with him every game.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who gets jealous when a player from another team tried asking for your number.

“don’t ever speak to my girlfriend again.” jungwon spits through his mask, allowing himself to be dragged away by the refs.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who waits with you while you fill out forms for the uniforms, equipment, next games etc so he can walk you home.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who sits with you on the bus to an away game. he brings snacks and earbuds to share on the ride.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who chooses a jersey number after your favorite number.

“why’d you choose 77?” you ask while giving him a new jersey, knowing his old number was 04. “i overheard you telling coach that your favorite number is 77.” he shrugs, grabbing his jersey.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who goes all out for his next confession, telling himself that this will be the last one if you reject him again.

“i know it may not seem like i’m serious about you but i am.” jungwon suddenly blurts out as you’re locking up the ice rink. he wanted to wait until he dropped you off at home, but it was eating him inside—and it was eating you up inside that you couldn’t hide your feelings anymore.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who blows you a kiss before every game, his smile evident even behind his mask.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who teaches you how to play hockey—his hands are around your waist as he steadies you. it was just you and him in the quiet ice rink spending time together.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who is upset about losing his game and finds solace in you. especially when you encourage him for his next.

“it was just one game, you’ll do better next time, hm?” you rub jungwon’s back, knowing he was pouting the whole time. jungwon nuzzles further into the crook of your neck, muttering a small ‘okay’.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who feigns an emergency in the locker room. in reality he just wants to see you before he has to play.

“you’re not slick jungwon,” you glare at him, crossing your arms. he’s currently shirtless, asking you to massage his shoulders because he’s tense. “if you don’t do it now i won’t play.” he pulls you into him, smirking.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who hates arguments, especially when they’re about his past relationships/flings.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who refuses to play when you’re mad at him. he won’t even change into his uniform, he remains seated next to you pleading for you to talk to him.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who locks you both in the storage room until you forgive him, which you last a lot longer than he thought you would—even his puppy dog eyes don’t work.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who comes to the terms that you’re not forgiving him, so he leaves you alone (which are the worst days of his life).

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who is in the worst mood ever everyday that he comes to practice.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who is extracted from the game because he took his anger out on the opposing team, giving him multiple penalties.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who completely breaks down in front of his friends, annoyed at your stubbornness and afraid that you’ll leave him.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who comes into your room late at night with tears staining his cheeks and with the effort of mending things.

“you’re the only one for me, you know that baby.” he gets on his knees practically begging you. “i never intended to hurt you,” his hands are gripping your thighs, eager to have you back.

HOCKEY PLAYER JUNGWON who wasn’t much of a player in the first place, he just wanted the girl he already had (you were playing hard to get).

© 2024 uolarie

[f1smutwriter]

Can you please write a smut about Charles that reader is a virgin and their first night is very hot (like very hot🥵) but Charles make it comfortable for reader. And Charles is madly in love with reader that he thinks she is love of his life ❤️

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 (𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔)

Experienced!Charles x Virgin!Reader

Pt2, Pt3

Summary: He wanted to make your first time special. So he taught you the basics, or that’s what you thought it was.

Warnings: SMUT! Innocence kink, extreme corruption kink, fingering, oral (fem rec), breast play, dirty talk, unprotected sex (Big no no), praise, degrading, squirting, begging kink, pet names (Mon cœur, little bunny, princess, baby, etc), like way more that I don’t remember.

Notes: for the person who requested sorry this took literal years. This is probably one of my favorite fics. But anyways, Hope you enjoy!!

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I wasn’t one of those people who were craving for sex. I was okay being a virgin at first, but then I hit my twenties and it became a problem. I had a hot boyfriend and people thought we were going at it like bunny’s all the time. But Charles was actually extremely supportive about my choice. Til one day I couldn’t take it anymore.

I’m sitting on the couch while watching tv cuddling myself waiting for Charles. I hear the jingle of his keys making me get up and rush to him. The second he came in he sees me charging at him making him smile as he picks me up. “Well hello to you too Mon cœur” he smiled as he kissed my head as I scrunched up my nose making him smile. “So what have you been doing while I was out” he asked me softly dragging me to sit in his lap. “Nothing watching tv” I whispered as he started kissing my neck like he normal does making me whimper.

“Aww, did I make my little bunny nervous” he smirked nibbling at my sweet-spot. "Baby stop it" I whined in his neck making him chuckle a bite making him smile. "I'm sorry baby" He smiled thinking I was getting uncomfortable so he rubbed by back. "What were you watching" He asked softly as he rubbed my back watching the movie I was watching. "Some type of dark romance movie it's honestly crazy" I say cuddling into his side while we watch the movie.

As we watch the movie we see a scene where the two main characters starting kissing and it gets heated. I suddenly feel a rush of heat between my legs, making me squeeze my thighs shut as hard as I can to relieve the feeling. “You okay baby” Charles asked with a smirk, knowing exactly what was going on. “Yeah I’m fine love don’t worry about me” I whispered squeezing my thighs more and I feel his hand go on one of them. I feel him drag his hand up and down my leg feeling shivers down my back.

I subconsciously opened spread my legs so he could touch me where I craved the most. He slowly touched my inner thigh so close to my wet core making me let out small whimpers as he goes. He slips his hand in my tiny pajama shorts making me whimper softly. His fingers gazed my clothed cunt letting out a breathy moan. “Do you want it Mon cœur” he whispered in my ear before kissing my neck softly.

“P-please” I cried out wanting him to do more to me. As I said that his fingers started rubbing soft circles on my clit making me moan out and buck my hips from the feign pleasure. “Sshh let it happen” he chuckled as rubbed my clit faster before checking how wet I was. Once he felt I was soaking he groaned, slipping a fingering in me making me moan louder. I grab his wrist to tell him to stop moving them, I let out a shaky breath as he continued to rub my clit with his thumb.

He picks me up and walks to the bedroom. “Your first time is most certainly not gonna be on the couch” he smiled as he threw me on the bed making me giggle out loud. “Gonna let me take this off” he asked me pulling on my pajama shorts making me nod softly. He pulled them down my legs along with my panties making me shiver slightly. “Fuck I can’t wait to taste you” he smirked at me feeling wide eyed at his comment. “What did you really think I wasn’t gonna taste this pretty pussy” he chuckled looking at my face amused as he rubbed my thighs.

“I-I don’t know” I whispered blushing bright cherry red making him laugh at me a bit. “Don’t worry gonna make you feel so good baby you’re not gonna walk for a week” he smiled as he went back to kissing me gently like I was the most fragile thing on planet earth. “Charles you don’t have to be gentle. I want it to be good for you too” I mumbled softly making him smile at my response to his kiss. “Don’t think you’d want that, I can be really rough and I don’t want to hurt you” he smiled softly as he rubbed my face his his thumb making my head lean closer to his hand.

I kiss him wrapping my arms around his neck as we kiss. He holds my waist as we make out, him slipping his tongue in my mouth gently making me gasp against his lips. He breaks the kiss to start kissing my neck slowly taking off his my shirt. “I love when your in my clothes like they were made for you” he whispered in my ear before going back to kissing my neck, sucking on my sweet-spot.

He goes down and sucks on my nipple, while rubbing the other one feeling my back arch off the bed and whimpers spilling out of my mouth. He kisses down my stomach and pecked the very top of my cunt making my thighs close together. “Leave them open” he growled as he spread my legs roughly making me gasp at his roughness. His fingers run through my soaking fold. He leaned down and started eating me out savoring my juices like he’s been dying for it.

He sucked on my clit making me gasp loudly and closing my thighs around his head. I feel him chuckled against my cunt, grabbing his hair to push his face and tongue deeper into my pussy. “Fuck this pussy taste so sweet. So mean for keeping it from me” he groaned against me feeling my legs shake from the pleasure. “I’m gonna eat you out all the time, when your asleep when your awake, when your showering” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around my thighs to dig his face deeper into me.

“B-baby feel s-something in m-my stomach” I cried out making him chuckle. “That’s called an orgasm let it go cum all over my tongue let me taste how sweet you really are” he whispered sticking his tongue in my tight hole making a scream rip out of my throat. My thighs start shaking around his head as I cum all over his tongue tugging his hair for dear life. I swear that I almost black out from that intense moment. “How was that baby” he chuckled rubbing my face with his hands. “G-good” I stuttered out still feeling like I’m on cloud nine. “Want it rough Charles please” I begged him wanting him to take me rough to feel the whole experience. “You sure don’t want to hurt you” he asked making me nod frantically.

“Hands and knees ass in the air” he said quickly making me obey him in an instant. “Fuck can’t wait to stick my cock into your tight pussy. Gonna squeeze me so good” he said as reached over to grab a condom. “No don’t want it. Wanna feel you” I say making him grin grow even bigger. “Oh my dirty girl wants it raw, want me to fuck a baby into you. Well don’t worry I will” he said putting his hand under my mouth. “Spit don’t want you to get hurt” he demanded feeling myself spit in his hand. I see him in the mirror rubbing my saliva on his hard cock, he looked up and saw me staring at him in the mirror. He winked at me through it as his cock runs through my sensitive fold. He slowly slips in me groaning in pure pleasure as I groan from the burning stretch he gave me.

Tears running down my face making him laugh softly. “Is it too big for you” he smirked making him lay me on my back to see my every expression. He start thrusting in and out slowly making sure to not hurt me. As I get used to the feeling I start clenching around him from the pure pleasure. “F-fa-faster please faster baby” I cried out making him grab my hips and pound in and out of me. I feel my eyes roll at the back of my head feeling him hit that one spot deep inside I just found out about. “You look so good on my cock” he smiled before adding “I can’t wait to teach you how to ride me, just wait Mon cœur we’re not having no vanilla sex just you wait” He grin making me clench around his throbbing cock.

He sucked my nipple before he put his thumb in my aching clit making me gasp out loudly. He started rubbing it fast feeling my air leave my lungs in an instant. “Yeah there’s my good girl, so desperate and eager to be my little cock whore” He growled pounding harder and harder feeling my nails drag along his back hearing him growl in my ear. “Gosh baby don’t worry I’m gonna fill you up all the time to a point when your not full your gonna feel it still” He smirked making me scream out being so close over the edge. “Wanna cum huh baby” he smiled making me babbled nonsense. “Y-yes” I whined as he licked and sucked my neck marking me. “Cum baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock” he grumbled making my vision go black as I have the most mind blowing orgasm ever.

I feel liquid come out of me, trying to stop it but doesn’t work. I look at him in pure embarrassment as he smirks at me. He moves my hips chasing his orgasm, overstimulating me a bit. As he cums with a loud groan feeling the liquid come out of me again. He palms my clit fast moving side to side at an inhuman pace making the liquid come out in large amounts. “N-no more no more” I cried out begging him to stop from the pure sensitivity. He smiled as he licked up my abused pussy clean. “What the heck was that” I asked him hiding my face in his neck. “That was you squirting and Mon cœur I’m gonna make you do it all the time your gonna have none left in you” He smirked as he rubbed my hair softly out of my face.

“Thank you baby” I whispered in his neck rubbing his back a bit. “Thank you for what Joli” He smiled softly scratching my head. “Taking my virginity the best way possible” I grinned softly making him burst out laughing. “You are one of a kind Y/n L/n” He smiled kissing my head before we fall fast asleep in each others arms.

I know I said I didn’t crave it. But when you have a hot boyfriend who knows what he’s doing, you want it 24/7.

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Notes: this was the story I thought I posted to someone but turns out my system was being dumb and it was in my queue. Kinda awkward anyways I hope you guys like it am I’m posting more soon so give me more requests please I’m begging 🙏. HOPE YOU ENJOYED

[atzloverr]

Seonghwa - NSFW alphabet

@hwxbibi (+ 1 anonymous asker) ask and you shall receive

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’ll praise you sooo much until you practically have to beg him to stop. He’ll spoon you while whispering sweet nothings into your ears, his deep and rich voice soothing you to sleep. He’ll only leave you once you’ve fallen asleep, only to get a towel for you so he can make sure that you’re all clean. He’ll always make sure you feel at peace and loved.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

There’s something about your cheeks that he just can’t get enough of. He’ll squeeze them and squeak at your cuteness, kissing them over and over again. He also loves your hands. Tracing your palm lines slowly and then intertwining your fingers. He’s a romantic, so he loves to just hold your hands anywhere, anytime. Be it on a walk, when you sit next to him or when he slowly rocks his hips into you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He doesn’t mind where he comes, but he doesn’t want to make a mess in any way, so he’ll make sure to either cum in you or on you, not wanting to get the sheets all dirty. You however, can make as big of a mess as you want to. He loves the feeling when you cum in his mouth, your fingers desperately gripping his hair, and your thighs clenching together around his head. He’ll shakily grab his aching cock and pleasure himself when he hears your sweet mewls when you orgasm on his tongue.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The thought of you dominating him turns him on embarrassingly much. He has yet to admit it, but as much as he enjoys your submissive side, he really wants you to just dominate him. He even fantasizes about you degrading him, telling him nasty things as you torture him sexually. One time when the two of you were in bed, you decided to tease him just a little bit, telling him how much of a desperate mess he was.

“What?” you smiled, seeing as Seonghwa had stopped working. You saw the way his cheeks heated up at your little comment, and the way he let out a small whimper. He quickly composed himself, going back to where you left off. He still thinks about this moment, jerking off to the thought of your voice telling him that he’s been a bad boy.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think he’s fairly experienced. He absolutely knows what he’s doing to say the least, but he hasn’t tried everything. Tbh, when you heard his body count for the first time, you were shocked at the number.

“What? I’ve heard that’s pretty high?” Seonghwa reasoned, smiling at your shocked expression. “Yeah but, for you, I expected you to have pulled at least a hundred people, I mean just look at you!” you answered, gesturing dramatically with your hands. Seonghwa just laughed at your compliment.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It’s tied for him between good ol’ missionary and mating press. He loves positions where he can force you to keep eye contact with him as he’s fucking you. He also loves having easy access to your face and neck, being able to plaster kisses and bites on you when he’s deep inside you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think he’s not particularly goofy, but he doesn’t mind if you are. Sometimes, he’ll humor you during sex, teasing you and making you giggle. But sometimes, he’ll be completely serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It really depends honestly. At times, he’ll keep himself very well groomed down there, not letting the hair grow too long, but if he doesn’t find the time to fix it, he can let it grow pretty long. That’s usually if he has a lot to do and is very busy in his everyday life.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Seonghwa can be very romantic at times, telling you how much he loves you, holding your hand while slowly kissing you. But when he can tell you’re in that mood, and he is too, he can be pretty rough and ruthless in bed. He knows you love it when he denies you, overstimulates you, degrades you or makes you work for it, so at those times he’ll save the romanticism for afterwards.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s not the type to want a “quick fuck” so if he feels horny and wants the job done quickly, he’ll excuse himself to go jerk off in the bathroom, breathing heavily as he thinks of what he wants to do to you.

If you’re away from each other, he might jerk off almost every night, missing you so dearly, desperately wanting to feel your soft hands on his body. He’ll slowly run his hands up his stomach, imagining that it’s your hands instead of his.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He has a master/slave kink, and will happily indulge in it if you are up to it. He doesn’t want those dynamics to be permanent in your relationship, but the thought of you calling him master, being on your knees and ready to serve him turns him on a lot. He’d ask you a 100 times if you were sure you were up to it, not wanting to make you feel entitled to say yes to making his obscure fantasy a reality.

He also has a huuuge thing for watching you masturbate. Forcing you to look into his hungry eyes as you eagerly pleasure yourself;

“Faster,” he commands and you can’t help but whine at the order, but comply without thinking twice about it. “There you go,” he coos. You see the tent forming in his pants as he wiggles around in his spot. Just as you’re getting close to the edge, Seonghwa gives you your next command with a strict voice. “Slow down.” “But Seonghwa please I—“, “Did that sound like a request?” he asked, smirking slightly. You whimper as you force your hand to go slower, your legs shaking as you edge yourself once again. “So good, so obedient,” Seonghwa smiles fondly.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He wants to keep it in the bedroom, at least for the full thing. Sure, he can get you off if you get extremely needy somewhere else, but he’s not fond of not having privacy, safety and time.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Even though he likes being dominant, he gets weak in the knees when you compliment him. When you tell him that he looks beautiful, or compliment his outfit or hair, his heart will flutter, but he might also become rock hard.

Also, I believe he loves seeing you all dressed up. As much as he loves you when you’re comfy, seeing you in a form-fitting, beautiful outfit (maybe even picked by him) will make him want to rip it off you any second. Seeing you shying away from his compliments makes him want to ruin you on the spot.

On that last topic, I believe he gets incredibly horny when you act shy and cute, blushing at his hands roaming your body. He’ll rile you up or shower you in compliments just to see that cute little look on your face. He wants to reveal a dirty little secret of yours someday, just so see your flustered reaction when he tells you he knows about your true desires.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t want anything to do with any other bodily fluids than yours or his cum. Yes, that also includes blood.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He 100% prefers giving. He lives for the sounds you make when he uses his skillful tongue on you. He’ll look up at you just to see your face contort in pleasure, and if you try to hide your cute face from him, he’ll make sure to pin your hands down, (maybe even tie them up if he has to). He’ll pound his fingers into you as he works his mouth on your sex, making sure to curl his fingers just right to give you all those sensations you crave for. Some nights, he’ll gladly just bury his face between your legs for as long as you can take, and when you ask him if he wants you to repay the favor, he’ll just shake his head lovingly, reassuring you that he needs no such thing from his lovely doll.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Seonghwa wants to take things slowly, making sure you feel everything thats happening without having to rush it. I believe he goes pretty slowly, and right when he’s about to burst inside of you, he’ll speed up in desperation, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. He’ll do everything very mindfully, kissing you so slowly while his hands roam your body. If you try to speed things up, being way too eager to take things slow, he’ll scold you, telling you to be patient and let him take his time.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He hates them. As mentioned, he really wants to take his time, cherishing every moment and making them last for as long as possible. He’s okay with giving you pleasure quickly, if you really beg him for it, but he won’t go further than that.

“Seonghwa, please,” you look up at him, snaking your hands around his waist in some sort of attempt to win him over. He smirks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Love, we’ll be home tomorrow, then I’ll give you what you need,” he says, placing a kiss on your cheek. After looking up at him for about five more seconds, you give up, sighing heavily. He just laughs at your grumpy face. “There there.”

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes to experiment in bed, trying out different positions, toys etc, but nothing too extreme. He wants to please you in any way that he can, so he’ll want to indulge in your fantasies as much as you want to indulge in his.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is pretty good, but since he doesn’t go at a fast pace, he can hold out for a very long time. He doesn’t need stamina, he just needs patience to be able to go for hours with you. But his stamina is very high, so if you were to go at a faster pace sometime, he’d still be able to hold out for a long time, still going even when his body can’t keep up with his horny mind.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I think Seonghwa owns quite a few toys, and he’s probably fascinated with different toys, and the effect they may have on his and your body. He loves to try out different toys and combinations of toys on you, just to learn for future times what makes you lose your mind the quickest. You’ll moan out in overstimulation from all the different sensations as Seonghwa presses his new toy deep inside of you, while pressing another one to your most sensitive spot. He’ll look in awe as you jolt your hips upward at the sensation, mentally noting to use that toy when he really wants to make you desperate.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases you like no one else. He licks his lips in excitement when you squirm at his teasing words.

“What’s wrong? You seem so embarrassed, my love,” he whispers in your ear as his hands slowly rub your inner thigh. You were simply scrolling on your phone when your boyfriend started to tease you, kissing your neck slowly, moaning lowly in your ear. He knows exactly what gets you going, so when he wants you to get in the mood, he’ll succeed. Your thighs close up as he kisses around your ears, his deep voice sounding out small moans and laughs as you squirm.

You try to reach out for him, making him kiss your lips instead, or just stop whispering nasty things into your ear, but he just moves your hand away, unfazed by your attempt at getting what you need. “Seonghwa, stop that,” you whine, giggling as his tongue finds your neck. “If you want me to stop, why are you rubbing your thighs together, hm? Why are you making such lewd sounds? I think you like this, don’t you?”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can be pretty vocal, letting out deep moans as he’s inside of you. He’ll have his head close to your ear, making you hear every little sound he makes, he knows how much it turns you on after all. He’ll let out low whines when you clench around him, and oh, when he finally comes, his moans go up an octave and turn into whimpers. He smiles in satisfaction when he notices the way your hips buck as he moans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He has very high expectations for himself in bed, and is worried he’s not enough for you. He wants to make sure you get all the love and pleasure you deserve, so he’ll try everything to make you feel good. When he told you about these thoughts, you immediately comforted him, assuring him that he’s so good and that you appreciate him so much. He gently cried in gratitude in your arms as you affirmed him. “I love you,” he mumbled into your neck, but you heard it nonetheless. “I love you too, Seonghwa.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s pretty big down there, and it’s more on the longer and thinner side. (I know I’m not really good at describing this ahaha)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I would say his sex drive is pretty high, but he doesn’t want to do it every night. He wants to make your moments together special, so he doesn’t want it to become too casual for him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep

He always makes sure you fall asleep first, and he wants to clean himself off before he falls asleep. He’ll take the quickest shower in the history of showers, just to feel fresh, just because he doesn’t want to leave you all alone in bed. He himself can’t handle feeling neglected after sex, so he would never want to make you feel that way.

masterlist

Hope y’all enjoyed this one!!!!

PSA: English is not my first language, so I’m sorry for potential language errors and such.

Requests are ofc open!!!! Which member should I do next? And do y’all want someone from another fandom??? (bts/svt/txt), please tell me what you guys thinkkkk!!!

[azrielslittleslut]

your request are open? Cause I have a request.

Can’t stop thinking about an Azriel x reader fic where the reader is new to the Ic, she’s quiet, out spoken and reserved in group settings

but when az gets her alone, while shes nervous and doesn’t immediately come out of her shell… Az becomes a bit enamoured with her and knows there’s more then meets the eye with her. He starts approaching her and showing her he sees her even when she tries to hide in his shadows…he starts to feel the beginning of the bond and feels it in every little thing she does. How she hides in his shadows without knowing and his shadows grow really fond of her. eventually after all his hard work and giving her all his attention( which makes her really flustered at first and Az thinks it’s adorable) when she trusts him she opens up to him and is a chatter box and so bubbly and loud and speaks her mind shares all her interest and hobbies and she’s super smart and has really good ideas for velaris that Az wants to tell Rhys etc

And then then they find out their mates and the first time they fuck reader is shy once more and doesn’t want to be loud and moan and az obviously won’t have that so he makes her feel so good she can’t help but moan she simply can not hold her noises in and az praises her for it and she blushes and now Az takes great pride in the fact that he’s able to make her loud and everyone else thinks shes so quiet (Just like az is viewed as quiet so he saw you even when you tired to hide in the shadows fade into the background like he so often does) and he’s also a freak so you know Az pulled out all the tricks to make her so blissed out in pleasure that she got out of her own head and let him hear all her pretty noises …Anyway just a thought, if your comfortable writing this smut with plot fic 😂 your writing is the best and I’d be gagged if this gets brought to life and shows up on the timeline

"Always the Quiet Ones"

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, porn with plot, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), use of pet names, fluff

Word Count: 4k

a/n: thanks for your kind words, anon! I hope this lives up to your expectations!

Enjoy!

"And what happened then, Cassian?" Mor asked, her bubbly voice echoing throughout the living room of the townhouse. "Did you kill the beast, or did you let it get away?"

Cassian clapped his large hands together, and the sound made you jump slightly in your seat. "You know I killed it, of course!" he exclaimed in a loud voice.

"Come on, Cass," Rhys drawled from his chair next to the fireplace. "Tell the truth. Nobody has been able to kill a beast like that for centuries, so I find it hard to believe your story."

You sighed as Cassian made a noise deep in his throat, your mind trailing off as he started to defend himself against his family's accusations. You took a small sip of your drink as you rubbed your temple with your free hand.

Why was the Inner Circle so... loud?

You had been recently hired by Rhys to help him with the Night Court’s finances. You had always been good with money, and you had been a valuable asset in the Winter Court, which was your home.

But you had wanted a change of scenery, growing tired of the endless snow and cold air, so you had put your information out, searching for a job elsewhere. It hadn’t taken long for the High Lord of the Night Court to respond, claiming he needed help getting the economy of his court back into good shape. It had fallen apart after the War, and you were beside yourself with happiness when he had hired you.

Rhys had quickly introduced you to his Inner Circle, and you had smiled at them, your heart racing with fear as you introduced yourself. You loathed talking, especially to strangers. You were somewhat awkward and very quiet, usually sticking to the shadowed corners of the room just to stay away from prying eyes.

But with the Inner Circle, that was nearly impossible. Nesta had her special way of always pulling you into unwanted conversations. Feyre would always ask your opinion on her paintings, even though you knew nothing about art. Mor would tell you horrible jokes, always expecting a laugh in response.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like them. They were all so nice, and they were slowly becoming your friends. Perhaps, one day, you might even call them your family. But you were a quiet person overall, and their boisterous personalities were too much to handle sometimes.

“Enjoying yourself?” Azriel asked, his deep voice low.

You jumped slightly, your hand going to your chest. "Azriel," you gasped. "You snuck up on me."

He chuckled, his hazel eyes bright. A ghost of a smile graced the corner of his mouth as he said, "Well, it is my job to sneak up on people."

Azriel was the only one in the Inner Circle who you didn't mind being around. Like you, he was quiet and outspoken, always keeping to himself. Despite your usual introverted demeanor, you found yourself drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

It didn't help that he was absolutely beautiful.

Black hair, golden-brown skin, full lips. Eyes like molten gold with spots of green and brown... He was breathtaking.

You shook your head, pulling yourself out of your own thoughts. "Well, you're very good at it," you said, and you cursed yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. You were horrible at having conversations, and it was even worse with Azriel staring at you like he was.

Azriel laughed again. "You didn't answer my question." As he spoke, one of his shadows darted out to play with a strand of your hair.

The odd gesture from the shadow felt... comforting, and it gave you enough confidence to say, "No. I'm not enjoying myself. It's too loud, but Feyre invited me tonight, so I don't want to upset her by leaving."

He nodded once, a strand of dark hair falling across his brow. "At least you're honest," he said as his eyes scanned the room, full of soft affection as he looked at his family. "That's something I envy about you."

You smiled softly as you felt a warmth enter your chest, chasing away the cold emptiness you had felt since moving to the Night Court. You truly loved it here, but you had felt so lonely, and you spent most of your days with your face buried in the finance books.

"If you ever need a break from the noise," Azriel said, pulling you from your thoughts, "you can find me in the shadows. It's always... quiet there."

You raised your glass to him, a full smile on your lips now. "I think I'll take you up on that, shadowsinger."

---

Azriel groaned quietly, his shadows restlessly swarming around him as the family gathering raged on. The drinks were flowing freely tonight, and he was sure all of Velaris could hear Feyre's drunken laughter.

He stood from his seat, aiming for the door, but he stopped once he saw you sitting in the corner next to a bookshelf. It was obvious that you were trying to hide, and he couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight of it. He had been in the same position for hundreds of years, always wanting to stay in the shadows, and he found it amusing coming from you.

With a deep breath, Azriel winnowed into the shadows, appearing right next to you. He stayed quiet as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You will have to try harder than that to stay hidden, especially from me."

You jumped, and he smiled, content with the fact that he could sneak up on you so easily. "Who says I was trying to stay hidden?" you snapped back. "I just like to observe. I'm not one to be... in the middle of all of that."

Az leaned against the shelf, his eyes studying your face. He couldn't deny how pretty you were, with those full lips and expressive eyes. He had been drawn to you from the first time Rhys introduced his new bookkeeper to the Inner Circle, but he had kept his distance, deciding it was best to stay away.

Yet, here he was, always seeking you out in the shadows of the family gatherings. There was something different about you, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

"Well," Azriel said, his voice low, "we have that in common, at least. How about we leave, and go somewhere more quiet?"

You paused for a second, your eyes shadowed. "I'm fine, Az," you murmured. "Go be with your family. I'm not in a very talkative mood tonight."

Az blinked, unable to think of anything to persuade you to go with him. "Very well," he said at last, lowering his head in a mock bow. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

He walked away, once again taking his seat next to Cassian, who was talking to Mor about a new sword he had bought. Normally, Az would have been interested in the conversation, but his attention was still occupied with you.

You were still sitting in the same spot, your face hidden in the shadows. His shadows, he realized. They swarmed around your body, content to hide you from the loud conversations going on in the living room. You didn't seem to notice the dark tendrils swirling around your body as if you were used to hiding away like this.

That's odd, Azriel thought to himself. Nonetheless, he made a vow to himself in that moment. He was going to do whatever it took to bring you out of your shell.

---

You sighed as you looked down at the paper in front of you, the numbers blending together as your eyes grew weary. You had been trying to do these calculations for what seemed like hours, but you had made no progress whatsoever.

"How did the finances get so messed up?" you grumbled to yourself as you placed your face in your hands. "This is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," said a voice from the doorway. You raised your head just enough to see Azriel leaning against the doorframe of the library, his wings tucked in tight. He was dressed in his leathers, and his shadows were swirling around him. He looked so handsome like that, you thought, but you were more annoyed that he had interrupted you.

You leaned against the back of the chair. "What are you doing here?"

He pushed himself away from the doorway, sauntering into the library on those long legs of his. You found yourself staring at the way his thigh muscles flexed as he walked toward you, but you quickly pushed those thoughts away. "I came to check on you. Rhys said he hadn't heard from you since early this morning, and I wanted to make sure you hadn't died in the last twelve hours."

Your eyes widened in horror. "Twelve hours?" Had you really been down here that long? "What time is it?"

Azriel shrugged his broad shoulders. "Almost midnight." He looked at you with those beautiful hazel eyes of his, and you suddenly felt that it was entirely possible to get lost in his gaze. "You should get some rest. The finances have been in shambles for a year now. They can wait another day," he said, his voice gentle.

Slowly, you stood from the chair, exhaustion suddenly hitting your body in strong waves. You walked over to him, and his lovely shadows darted out, wrapping themselves around your wrist. You smiled down at them as you said, "Thank you for coming to get me. Nobody really knows I exist... Sometimes I wonder if anybody truly sees me."

Azriel raised a scarred hand, placing it gently along your cheek. He raised your face up slightly, just enough for you to meet his gaze. "I know," he said, his voice soft. This close, you could count each of his long eyelashes, so dark they looked like splatters of ink. "I can see you hiding in the shadows, always wanting to keep to yourself. But you should know that I see you. I will always see you."

For all your life, you had tried to stay hidden away. But his words unlocked something deep inside of your chest, something that even the shadows couldn't hide. Perhaps, for once, it would be nice to be seen.

---

Azriel was relentless in seeking you out, always finding ways to talk to you, to bring you out of the shadows. He had brought you food on those long nights when you stayed locked away in the library, so focused on your work that you forgot to eat. He would bring you books he knew you would like, doing anything and everything to see that beautiful smile lighting up your face.

At first, you had been so flustered and annoyed, obviously not used to having someone shower you with attention. Azriel kept pressing on, as he thought it was rather adorable to watch the way your face would redden every time he did something for you.

He had been doing this for weeks now, and slowly, you had come out of your shell, but only with him. You were still quiet and reserved around the rest of the Inner Circle, but Azriel didn't mind- he found that he loved the fact that he was the one whom you trusted enough to be yourself with.

It turned out that you were quite the chatterbox when you wanted to be, and he loved listening to you talk and laugh. He could sit and watch you do absolutely nothing for hours on end, and he would be perfectly content.

The two of you were sitting in the training ring of the House of Wind. Earlier, Az had brought you here, as you had claimed you wanted to see how an Illyrian fought. He had obliged you, of course, unable to deny you anything.

Besides, he rather enjoyed the blush that had crept up your neck when he had taken his shirt off. And he hadn't missed the way you had rubbed your legs together as you watched him train.

"I think the court needs a budget," you said, your voice loud despite the wind. "What do you think?"

Azriel hummed as he sharpened Truth Teller. "I think that's a great idea. But good luck trying to convince Rhys. I don't think the male has the word budget in his vocabulary."

You rolled your eyes. "Maybe I could tempt him with a new jacket. The Mother only knows how much he loves his clothes."

Azriel barked out a laugh, unable to control himself. You always had a way to make him laugh, with your unfailing wit and humor. Everything you did lit a fire deep within his bones. Hell, just earlier today he had been unable to keep his own arousal under control as he had watched you eat breakfast. The way your lips had wrapped around the fork, so full and luscious-

"Az, did you hear me?" you asked. Your eyes were glittering, and he wondered if you knew where his thoughts had gone.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry. What were you saying?" His shadows had wrapped around you as they always did when the two of you were together. It was evident that they loved being around you just as much as he did, as they always sought you out, even when he hadn't commanded them to. They would hide you away at the loud family gatherings, wrapping themselves around your body just enough to keep you hidden from the prying eyes of his family.

Azriel wondered if you had noticed their strange behavior.

You giggled, and the sound danced along Azriel's skin. "I was saying that I think we need to go to Rhys about the budget. Plus, I have some other ideas about ways to improve Velaris." You bit your lip as you looked down at the ground. "Not just finance stuff. I have other ideas."

He wasn't surprised, not at all. You were so smart and intelligent, and he wished others could have the pleasure of knowing you as he did. You had told him of some of your ideas, and he knew Rhys would love them. Az knew that you just didn't want to bring it up to him yourself.

Azriel moved forward, placing his hand on your thigh. He could feel the heat of your skin through the thick leggings you wore. "Tell me," he murmured. "I want to hear everything you have to say."

You looked up and smiled at him, and Azriel felt something tighten in his chest at the sight. "Then get comfortable, shadowsinger. You're in for a long night."

---

Azriel pushed you against the wall of his bedroom, his breath hot against your skin as he trailed kisses down your neck. "Are you sure about this, love?" he asked, his voice low with desire.

You threw your head back against the wall, your eyes closed as his lips moved against your sensitive flesh. "Yes," you gasped. "I want you. Please."

Over the past few weeks, you and Azriel had grown closer, and you could no longer deny your obvious attraction to him. He had taken you on dates out on Velaris. He had taken you flying across the Illyrian mountains.

Azriel had brought you to life in ways that you never could have imagined. He had brought you out of that quiet shell that you had lived in for centuries, and you wanted to tie yourself to him in every way possible.

He groaned as he lifted you up, moving his hands down to your thighs to wrap them around his waist. "I love the sound of you begging," he said. He carried you over to his bed, dropping you gently onto the mattress.

You laughed softly as you reached for him, pulling his strong body down to yours. "Don't get used to it," you whispered against his lips, your hands moving to the fastenings that held his leathers closed.

He chuckled as he moved his hands to help you with the fastenings. "We'll see about that, angel." The dark glimmer in his eyes told you that he was going to do whatever it took to hear you beg again, and you wanted to laugh at the sight.

He might have shattered the quiet walls you had built around yourself, but he could never take your stubbornness away.

You weren't entirely sure how the rest of your clothes were discarded, only that you were lying on his bed, and he had his head between your legs. You couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips as he dove his tongue into your folds, torturing you with pleasure.

"Please, Az," you whimpered. "More."

You felt Azriel smile against your cunt. "There's that begging that I love," he said as he moved his tongue up to circle your clit.

You covered your mouth with a hand to keep from crying out in pleasure. You felt one of his shadows trail up your body, wrapping itself around your wrist. You didn't fight as it pulled your hand away from your mouth at the same time that Azriel thrust one of his long fingers into you. You whimpered again as you felt him curl it inside of you, hitting that sweet, spongy spot along your inner walls.

"Be loud for me," Azriel murmured, his face still buried in your pussy. "Let me hear you."

You shook your head, too afraid of the sounds that would come out of your mouth if you lost control. You were in Azriel's bedroom in the House of Wind, and you knew Nesta and Cassian were right down the hall. What if they heard you?

Azriel, who seemed very intent on his task, added another finger, curling it deep inside of you. He sucked on your clit at the same time, and your vision went white with pleasure. "Oh, fuck," you moaned, your back arching off the bed. "Yes, yes, yes."

"My good girl," he groaned as he continued to wring pleasure from your body, only stopping once you shattered from your climax. You were unable to stop the moans and screams that escaped your lips as you came, not giving a damn who heard you.

Azriel crawled up your body, laying a trail of sloppy kisses along your stomach and chest. He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he reached down and swiped a hand through your release. You watched with blurry eyes as he coated his cock with it, preparing himself.

"Relax for me, love," he murmured as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I will be gentle."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, careful of his wings, as you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I love you, Azriel," you whispered to him. "And I trust you."

Azriel sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide as he looked down at you. You gasped as you felt something tighten in your chest, as if a cord was there, being stretched. You felt that cord reach out from your body, the bridge of connection between your soul and Azriel's.

"Mate," Azriel gasped, his eyes still wide as he looked down at you. They were full of nothing but love and awe as he looked at your naked body splayed beneath him. "You're my mate."

His shadows swarmed you then, covering your body in a way that reminded you of the kisses Azriel had placed along your skin. "You're mine," you snarled softly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Slowly, Azriel pushed his cock into your dripping folds, and you moaned loudly at the stretch. He was so big, and he filled your body in a mind-shattering way. "Say it again," he commanded.

"You're mine." He followed your words with a powerful thrust, one so hard you heard the bed slam into the wall. "And I am yours."

Even though Az had said he would be gentle, it seemed he was unable to control himself. He set an almost punishing pace, but you didn't mind. You met his passion with your own, and you screamed his name repeatedly as he fucked you so deeply and thoroughly that your breasts bounced in time with the bed slamming into the wall.

A distant part of you wondered if it would be broken come morning.

"Azriel!" you screamed as he moved his hand down to your lower belly, pressing down gently. The movement caused your eyes to roll back and your jaw to slacken as you felt nothing but him. A string of moans and screams left your lips, sounds that were primal and animalistic.

You had completely lost control of yourself, and it was all Azriel's doing.

"Fuck, yes," he snarled as he slammed into you, his pelvic bone rubbing deliciously against your clit with each movement. "That's it. Let me hear you. Let everyone hear how good your mate is fucking you."

Azriel's thrusts grew sloppy and unhinged as he neared his climax, his breathing ragged. His hair clung to his forehead in messy strands, his chest glistened with sweat- he was so beautiful like this. He looked totally fucked out of his mind, and you suddenly realized how lucky you were that he was yours.

"Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you," he pleaded, his eyes rolling back into his head.

Your body obeyed him, and you screamed as you came, scratching your nails deep into his back as pleasure coursed through your veins. That golden thread in your chest tightened as Az slammed into you one final time, a primal groan escaping his throat as he filled you with his seed.

You held his trembling body against you, your mixed releases trailing down your thighs. Azriel looked at you as if you were the center of his world, his being. "I love you," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips.

Between you, that golden thread, that precious bond that linked you to him, glowed brightly.

---

The next morning, you and Azriel reluctantly pulled yourself out of his bed. He had kept you up most of the night with his lovemaking, and your body was quite sore from all the positions he had put you in.

When the two of you entered the dining room, starving from the night's... vigorous activities, Nesta and Cassian were already seated at the table. Nesta was smiling down at her food, while Cassian looked at you and Azriel with a gleam in his eyes.

"Mornin' you two," he said by way of greeting. "Sleep well?"

Azriel pulled out your chair for you, his eyes on Cassian. "We slept like babes."

Nesta chuckled, her eyes looking at you over the rim of her tea cup. "I wish we could say the same. Right, Cass?"

Horror filled your body, and you looked to Azriel's shadows for cover, pleading with them to shield you from Nesta and Cassian's teasing. They had heard you, and you wanted to die on the spot.

Azriel leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek, his lips warm and soft on your skin. "Don't worry, love," he assured you. "Nesta and Cassian have no room to talk. I've had to listen to them, and smell them, for the last year." He turned his head to the other couple, his brows raised. "So go ahead and make fun. We will make it very hard for the two of you to get any sleep from now on."

You blinked at Azriel. Like you, he was quiet around others, and you were shocked at his words. You didn't think you had ever heard him say so much in the company of other people.

Nesta set down her cup, her eyes full of amusement. She looked over to her mate with a smile on her face. "I guess it's true what they say, Cass," she said, leaning back in her chair. "It's always the quiet ones."

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @panther-girl-124

@scorpioriesling

[sea-lanterns]

SAW

synopsis: (slasher! AU) as a devoted follower, you would do anything to please your master.

featuring: arlecchino (columbina mentioned at the end)

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, mentions of death, death traps, brief mentions of child traffi.cking, sadism, master x follower dynamic, praise, pet names (she calls you doll, babydoll, etc.) mockery, lap se.x, thigh riding, strap on, biting, hickies, rough se.x, spa.nking, manhandling, mentions of th.ree.some, implied th.ree.some at the end.

art credits: junji ito's "house of marionettes"

Fastening on the metal bear trap onto an unconscious victim’s head, you hummed an eerie tune to yourself knowing your beloved master was watching you from above. It didn’t matter that you were currently sitting in a padlocked room with a man about to die right in front of you, you just wanted to please your master by any means necessary. Even if it meant killing all these people by sending them into death traps.

You tightened a certain screw on the trap before smiling to yourself and leaning back. The man in front of you was no innocent man, he was a criminal, a monster, and he deserved this fate whether he liked it or not, causing you to smile in sadistic pleasure for the upcoming end of his life.

“Tight as a button.” You hum to yourself, looking up at the security camera located in the far right corner of the room. You knew your beloved master was watching, and you couldn’t help but give it a little wave to show that you had completed the task she assigned you. “I did it…” You exclaim softly, smiling at the flashing red light on the camera. “I’m gonna head up now, okay?”

You stood up and paid no mind to the unconscious man you just doomed to suffer a fate worse than death. Humming all too nonchalantly before leaving the room and locking it shut, ensnaring the man to leave him dead before making your way down the hall with a skip in your step. Various screams of terror and pain rang out from the other death traps as you made your way over to a secret door. The sounds of torture like a song to your ears while you pushed the passcode buttons to unlock a passage to a room.

“What an awful melody…” you murmured to yourself, glancing back at the trap rooms to listen to one more scream of terror. “It’s beautiful.”

The door to the secret passageway popped open and you moved inside with ease, your body slipping through as you maneuvered through the narrow hallways of the abandoned building. “Abandoned” as it appeared to the public, people unaware of the multiple deaths coinciding within its walls for the police have failed to track down the mastermind behind these deaths. 

The mastermind to which you served and dedicated your entire life to.

Navigating your way towards another hidden door, you pushed it open to see a tall woman sitting idly in front of a bunch of security cameras, her lean figure illuminated by the many monitors and making her seem like a god of some sort. A pleasant shiver runs down your spine when you see her, and you immediately take a bow and keep your head down low.

“Master, the player in room 14 is ready to begin his game.” You say with grace, glancing up at the taller woman in hopes of pleasing her. The woman doesn’t move for a moment, but her chair creaks slightly as she slowly turns around to face you. There she was. Your savior, your master, your goddess. The one behind the torture games, the mastermind behind all the killings…

Arlecchino, the Jigsaw killer. 

“Come, sit.” She says calmly, staring at you with those X-shaped pupils of hers that had you pressing your thighs together. “On my lap, come on sweet girl…”

She points down at her legs and you immediately walk over to plant yourself on her lap. Arlecchino wrapped her clawed hands around your waist before leaning forward to take a deep inhale of the scent in your hair. “Did my doll tighten the trap like I asked…?” She whispers into your ear, exhaling with a small groan as she squeezed your hips tighter with her hands. 

“I did. I followed everything you taught me to, master,” you say obediently, looking up at her with the brightest of smiles. “Did I do good? Are you proud of me?” If you had a tail it would for sure be wagging…

Arlecchino chuckled huskily before leaning down to kiss your neck. “You did wonderful, pet…” she says in a dark tone, running one of her nails over the bare expanse of your neck. “The drug should be wearing off soon. Would you like to watch his game with me?” She asks in a polite tone, almost mocking with the way she smiled at you so tenderly.

“Am I allowed to?” You ask softly, staring up at her with wide, doe-like eyes. Arlecchino groaned at the sight and had to keep herself from just shoving you onto her desk and fucking you raw right there, but she had enough restraint and took a deep breath. 

“Do you have to be cute, my doll?” Arlecchino husks, staring up at you with those crimson eyes of hers. “You make it impossible not to devour you…”

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment and you couldn’t help but glance away shyly. “Sorry, master…” you say softly, causing Arlecchino to scoff before smiling. “Don’t apologize, I was merely teasing…”

She pinches your cheek with her fingers before tilting your chin over to look at the monitor in front of you. “Let’s watch his prolonged suffering together, my pet. It looks like he’s starting to awaken…”

Adjusting comfortably on Arlecchino’s lap, she kept a firm hold on your waist before watching the man in the room start to awaken. He looked dazed, clearly confused why he woke up in a green-tiled room with a metal contraption stuck to his neck. He had no idea that he was about to die if he didn’t meet the requirements for Arlecchino’s game, and the thought slightly amused you as you watched him groggily stumble around the room in delusion.

The metal contraption attached to the man’s neck was Arlecchino’s infamous “bear trap.” A simple, yet deadly death trap designed to enclose multiple spikes into a person’s head if they did not complete the challenge on time. It was one of Arlecchino’s favorite traps, as it was a trap designed to kill instantly, yet instill tremendous amounts of fear into the person, as the idea of being Iron Maiden-ed in the face was too scary not to think about…

“Ah…perhaps it’s time we give him a call,” Arlecchino hums, giving your cheek a sensual kiss. “Don’t forget your mask, my pet. The adorable marionette one that makes you look simply stunning…”

You nod obediently and grab the porcelain mask on the table, Arlecchino grabbing her own rubber mask that mimicked a slack-jaw puppet. It was so kind of your master to make you a mask of your own, one that was the perfect complementary pair to match hers so that it looked like you were a couple.

You were, but it was hidden under the facade of a master and follower cover.

“Let’s give him a wake up call, shall we?” Arlecchino grins, turning on the camera and setting up the voice distorter. When the man looks up at the TV in the room, he sees two masked people, you and Arlecchino staring back at him with the creepy and unsettling puppet masks that sent shivers down his spine. It was unsettling with the way you two presented yourselves, and he immediately began shouting at the screen for answers.

“Quiet down, will you?” Arlecchino’s voice ran through the mic, gripping your waist tighter before covering your ears. “You are disturbing my precious doll with your foul words…”

The man refuses to shut up, causing Arlecchino to glare at him through the holes of her mask. She pushes a certain button and the wires of the bear trap suddenly inch closer to the man’s face, causing him to scream. 

“That’s better.” She smiles sadistically, removing her hands from your ears so you could hear. “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me with your incompetence…”

She begins explaining the rules of the “game” giving the man a chance to escape before the inevitable closure of his death. 

“You were put in this room for becoming involved in a child trafficking ring. To escape, you must find the key to the exit behind one of the tiles in this room. You have ten minutes to complete this task, failure to finish it before the intended time limit will result in the bear trap around your neck closing.”

The man’s eyes widened and you had to keep yourself from chuckling out loud. 

“Your time begins now.”

Arlecchino then clicked off the camera and pulled off her mask, watching as the man began scrambling to search for all the tiles. There had to be at least a thousand tiles in that room, as every square inch of the walls and floor were covered in small, marble tiles. Ten minutes was being generous, but even within that extended time limit, you knew it was almost impossible to find the key as each tile was carefully adjusted to look normal and not out of place.

“So, what should we do while we wait for his ten minutes to be up?” Arlecchino hums, pushing her nose against your neck. She seemed to be implying she wants something intimate with you, but being the obedient follower that you are, you looked up innocently and tilted your head.

“What does master want to do?” You ask in a gentle tone, Arlecchino smirking with the most intimidating gaze. 

“I want to do something sinful, my dear…” she says in a gravelly tone, practically growling into your ear before tugging at your pants. “Indulge in your master, will you?”

Another scream rips through the monitor and you couldn’t help but grow a little wet at the way Arlecchino was keen on fucking you in the middle of a game. She slowly moved her hand up your thigh and you could feel just how sharp and strong her fingers were as they squeezed the ball of flesh above your jeans. The way she could so easily kill you had you on a rush, and Arlecchino groaned at the way you started to warm up against her lap with how wet you were.

“Doll, you’re just begging for me to touch you, hmm?” She chuckles into your ear. “Need my cock in you that bad, huh? You’re lucky I decided to wear it today…”

Her hand moves down to unzip her trousers, revealing a thick strap on that you knew you could take easily with some prep. “You…You were wearing that the whole time?” You exclaim with surprise, a surge of heat pulsing through your core. “I was sitting on it the whole time…?”

She throws her head back to laugh at your stupidity. It was so endearing with how innocent you were when it came to these sorts of things. “I’m surprised you didn’t feel it,” she chuckles through her amusement. “It’s a girthy thing, almost too big if I do say so myself.”

“It’s not big…!” You quickly retort back, pouting at your master before holding onto her shoulders. “I can take it. I can take it all.”

“I don’t doubt it one bit, sweet girl,” Arlecchino grins amusedly. “However, you do need quite a bit of prep work to take such a stretch. Fortunately, you’re already semi-wet, but…” She gives you a wolfish grin before toying with the belt loop of your jeans. “I’ll need that cunt of yours dripping more if you’re gonna take me now…”

You let out a small groan before unzipping your jeans to begin kicking them off, the eagerness of getting her strap inside you too obvious not to notice, as Arlecchino found it difficult to keep a straight face. “Easy there, dollface…” Arlecchino purrs lightly, squeezing your cheeks together with her hand so your lips form a small pout. “I’m in no rush, and neither should you.”

You let out a small noise of complaint at this, before obeying her words and going at a much more leisurely pace. Once your pants and underwear were off, you sat back down on Arlecchino’s lap and whimpered at the feeling of her rough trousers against your aching hole.

“Mmm…quite a delicious sight already…” Arlecchino husks, wrapping her arms around your waist once more. “But not quite wet enough. I think it’s best if you grind against my thigh for a bit, hm?” 

She stares up at you with that incredibly intimidating —yet sexy— look, rows of sharpened teeth glimmering at you under the lamplight air of the room. You had no idea how such a hot woman would be the face behind the infamous Jigsaw killer, but you weren’t complaining. She was yours and you were hers. 

“Yes, master.” You respond in a soft tone, beginning to shift your hips so that you could start grinding against her pants, panting slightly from how stimulated you already were from her dirty talk. 

Arlecchino chuckles and leans back, relaxing in her chair as she watches you grind and ride her thighs with resolve. The sight of you trying so desperately to appease her was such a turn on, and for a moment she forgot that she was currently overseeing a man’s death just rooms away from where you two were sitting. “That’s my good girl…” Arlecchino murmurs, unable to contain her groans as she fixes the shaft of her strap so it sits upright. “Just a little more and you can ride me silly.”

At her encouragement, you only grind harder, whimpering at the pleasurable feeling of her trousers providing friction to your already sensitive clit. There was a pulsing sensation that you could not deny, and as you kept grinding your hips on her leg, you felt yourself growing more wet.

“Goodness…you soaked a spot right on me,” your master smirks almost predatorily, “I think you’re ready to take me, sweet girl…”

As an extra precaution, Arlecchino grabs a bottle of lube from the corner of the table and squeezes a helping of it onto the impressive girth of her cock. The clear liquid drips down her shaft slowly, and Arlecchino gives the length a few shallow pumps before angling it so you could move. 

“Come on, just like we practiced.”  Arlecchino hums, thumbing the tip of the shaft before watching you hover over the head with a bit of hesitance. “I’ll go slow, don’t worry…”

You grip the edge of her shoulders before slowly sinking down onto the head of her cock, the wide tip slowly spearing you open before you whimper and start to feel resistance. 

“Ugh…fuck…” Arlecchino grit her teeth and had to resist the primal urge to slam you down and start thrusting into you. She knew she promised you to be gentle and wanted to keep her promise no matter how tempting it may be to break. 

“Easy there, easy…” she grunts and slowly eases her hips to help you adjust, watching as you slowly inch down bit by bit. “Master…” you whimper out softly, biting your lip before taking a deep breath. “I think I need more lube…”

“No, you’re fine. This is enough.” Arlecchino groans, shifting your hips with her hands before kissing your neck reassuringly. “Just need to find the right…angle…”

You let out a yelp when you suddenly sink down all the way, your hips meeting hers as all of her shaft had somehow fit into you with one swift motion. 

God you severely underestimated the size. It didn’t look that long, and it wasn’t. But oh lord was it thick. The girth of it enough to stretch you wide open and have you squirming in her lap to adjust, letting out pathetic whimpers as you’ve never felt so stretched open before. 

“M-Master…” you gasp, the breath knocked out of your lungs as you feel Arlecchino’s teeth graze your neck. “Too big…”

“What?” Arlecchino practically laughs sadistically in your face, X-shaped pupils almost glowing with amusement. “Didn’t you say you could take it all? That it wasn’t too big?” 

You whimpered when you were reminded of your confident words. 

“It’s not too big, babydoll. You said it yourself.” A sudden shift in her tone had you fearful for a moment as you suddenly felt a sharp thrust pulsate against your inner walls.

“Ah—!” You start to let out breathless pants and gasps when Arlecchino begins to thrust madly. 

“You were so confident earlier, what happened to wanting to take it all immediately?” She mocks, grinning with pleasure as you writhe in her grip. If there was one thing you learned while working under Arlecchino, it was that the woman was a lot stronger than she looked under that lean muscle. Practically pinning you down until you couldn’t move, before making you bounce up and down her lap till the tip of her cock was all you could feel.

“Don’t tell me my doll is defying orders now.” Arlecchino growls, slamming you back down until your pussy practically wraps itself around her length, gripping it for all that it was worth, while you lolled your head back in absolute bliss. “N-Nngh…master…” you moaned out pathetically, the stretch burning you wonderfully while you cling to Arlecchino for sanity. “Slower…please…”

Arlecchino scoffs at that and gives your rear a tiny spank, laughing at the way you recoiled in surprise. 

“Slower? You want me to go slower?” She was mocking you again, the sadism evident in her voice. “Babydoll, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

She spanks your read once more and bites your neck rather aggressively, a dark hickey beginning to form at the base while she continues ramming her girth into your cunt. The way you were holding onto her so tightly —and pathetically— gave Arlecchino a power strike of ecstasy, the woman animalistic with her ruts as she digs her claws even further against your ass.

“You’re dripping so much, my sweet girl,” she groans into your throat, “Such a mess, I’ll need you to clean everything up for me later, right?”

She sneers at the way you whine at her words before shaking your head in obedience.

“Yes, master!”

“Good fucking girl.”

She suddenly lifts you up and places you on her desk, the bright blue monitors illuminating your body like a heavenly light while Arlecchino thrusts more brutally into your flesh. Rough hands prying your legs further apart as she pushes you down to deliver a passionate kiss. With one final push, you feel your body twitch before a squeal leaves your lips and cum drips down your thighs, your climax reaching a beautiful finale, as the monitor above you plays the sound of the man screaming to death in his room. The trap had closed around his head and ensnared his head in a casket of spikes, leaving him to bleed out in the tiled room of door 14.

“Hah…hah…looks like he didn’t make it.” Arlecchino pants, grinning all too wildly before kissing your neck affectionately. “Good girl. I knew I could count on you…”

As she nuzzles your neck with her face, you hear the door behind her suddenly creak open before gentle humming fills the room. Arlecchino turns back to see who had entered, before smiling at the sight of the other person.

“My, my, I see you’ve had your fun with her already.” Came a familiar, feminine voice. You looked up to see a shorter woman wearing a pig mask shutting the door, lithe hands reaching up to pull off the atrocious mask, and revealing a petite, yet beautiful woman you recognized as Columbina. One of Arlecchino’s most dutiful proxies. 

“Goodness, she’s certainly soaked your pants, Arlecchino.” Columbina tuts with faux astonishment. “I can’t believe you two started without me.” 

“You were taking too long,” Arlecchino chuckles back, caressing your cheek with a clawed nail. “You should’ve been faster.”

“Ah, I was too busy setting up the victims for the next few games,” the pigheaded woman sighs, strutting over to pinch your cheek playfully. “Looks like this little one will have to make it up to me now…”

You instinctively melted under Columbina’s touch, nuzzling your face into the soft, sweet palm of her hand. She cooes affectionately at the sight, before giving your head a little puppy-like pat. “Good girl…”

“She is, isn’t she?” Arlecchino grins, picking you up once more to sit on her lap while she rests on her chair. “I think this sweet thing can spare us one more round. For Columbina’s sake, right?” She lifts your chin with a finger, staring at you as if almost daring you to say no. 

“Of course, master…” you say obediently, arousal starting to drip down your thighs once more at the possibility of a threesome. 

“Atta girl…” Columbina giggles, pressing up behind you and kissing the back of your ear. “Just the perfect doll for us to share…”

You only bucked back your hips at that, ready to give whatever these two women wanted from you.