#not that i’m not still going to make sure i do well

[okaylikeschaewon]

Jamboree

~6k words, smut kinda

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“Wonyoung, I’m not sure about this-”

“Stop thinking,” Wonyoung’s palm ripped across your cheek, leaving a mark that you would most definitely feel the next morning. “And stop wasting my fucking time.”

Tonight was going to be one for the history books, you thought to yourself silently, taking a moment to appreciate how you ended up in this position.

Your work had required you to show up at this formal event full of young adults who had more money than sense and obnoxiously rich old people. Admittedly, not that you weren’t well off by any means, you did feel incredibly out of place. Your job was to just show up and shake a few hands to make sure it was known that your company was present, other than that you were free to ‘enjoy’ the event. While most of the ambitious young people here were trying to make connections to further their careers, you found it difficult to pretend to care.

The venue was quite the spectacle, a blend of classic architecture and modern elegance, but it lacked any sort of soul. Lush velvet drapes framed the tall windows, each showcasing a view of the meticulously landscaped gardens outside. The gardens, though beautiful, appeared untouched, as if meant only for admiration rather than exploration. Overall, the venue exuded an air of extravagance, yet it felt almost too perfect - as if it were a stage made of artificial props.

Just like the atmosphere of the lavish mansion was void of allure, the people inside lacked any form of charm. Despite being impeccably dressed, they seemed to embody the very definition of tedium. Their expressions a mix of forced politeness and mild disinterest. Conversations unfolded in monotones, punctuated by the occasional polite chuckle that felt rehearsed rather than genuine.

That was, at least, until your eyes found Wonyoung. She was a princess amongst peasants - a diamond amongst coal. From the moment you saw her roaming from waiter to waiter, collecting every hors d'oeuvre she could get her hands on while impressively avoiding the dreary conversations plaguing the event, you just knew you had to talk to her.

The greatest surprise of them all? Once you finally managed to find an opening, you discovered she was actually amazing. Not just amazing, but perfect in a way. The two of you clicked instantly, it was marvelous. Never have you in your entire life felt your energy match so instantaneously with someone before. It almost - no, it definitely - made this lifeless event worth your time.

That being said, this tiny little girl had no business being this intimidating. It had to be her thanks to her confidence, something she was far from lacking, wearing a dress that barely made it to her thighs, flashing her lacy black panties to the entire world. She just had this aura, it was difficult to explain. Yet, it was even more difficult to say no to whatever she wanted, which was exactly how you found yourself in this position. Well, truthfully, her convincing nature was in part aided by the countless glasses of pretentiously priced champagne coursing through your veins.

Regardless, even if it was by pure chance, you were grateful to have been selected from the sea of Dior Sauvage that was currently downstairs, still flailing their bodies around in the name of ‘dancing’. In the seven or so minutes between your eyes finding Wonyoung and the start of your conversation with her, you had seen her reject at least four advances. But you knew. The second you made eye contact with her, you knew.

“Are you going to close the door or do you plan on standing there like an idiot all night?” she scowled as she bent down and slipped off her stilettos.

By the time you shut the door behind you - making sure to lock it - Wonyoung had walked across the room towards the dresser by the window and had begun using the mirror to adjust her hair. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room anymore, and you, evidently, weren’t nearly as important as her hair.

The long brown strands cascading delicately down her back, flowing like a river of rich chocolate. Each individual hair shimmering as the moonlight hit from countless angles. The elegance, the grace, every movement further accentuating all the reasons this girl had to be the most supercilious woman in the building. Again, this girl had every right to be as confident as she was.

After who knows how long she spent admiring herself in the mirror, she turned on her heels to face you. A subtle frown formed on her lips as she crossed her arms, giving you a concerned look. Maybe it wasn’t concern, but it was something.

“You’re bleeding.”

Not what you expected her to say, but the scarlet smear left on your finger when you wiped your cheek confirmed it was indeed true. Only now did the sound of your heart thumping calm down enough for you to notice the sharp stinging coming from the cut.

“Huh, would you look at that,” you noted, staring at your finger.

Wonyoung stared down at her hand, where the metal band of one of her rings was blatantly stained with a patch of your blood. She looked away, spinning the ring off her finger and placing it on the dresser behind her. It seemed as though she was considering an apology, but she also didn't seem to comprehend the concept. It made you think - has this princess of a girl ever offered an apology to anyone before?

After grabbing a tissue, she crossed the room and approached you. She dabbed at your cheek, cleaning the wound. She didn't even look up at you; rather, her determined expression was fixated on the cut. Once she finished, she took your hand and wiped the blood off your finger as well before she crossed the room once more, tossing the tissue in the garbage and turning back to stare at you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, trying your best to hold back your smile.

“That was an accident,” she continued, stepping slowly until she was directly in front of you.

“It’s fine.”

“I wasn’t apologizing.”

“Oh.”

Words hung suspended between the two of you as the palpable silence enveloped you. Ignoring the minor inconvenience of her assault, Wonyoung brought you into this room for a reason. Unspoken desire filled the air as your eyes locked together. The speaking part was taken care of, that happened downstairs, now was time for action. Yet, for some reason, both of you stood there waiting for the other, a ridiculous game of chicken since you both knew what the other wanted.

“What are you waiting for?” Wonyoung clicked her tongue, finally conceding.

Good question. The answer, the one you just knew Wonyoung was looking for, came when you picked her up in your arms and tossed her onto the king-sized mattress. Before any more noise could follow up the high-pitched squeak of shock that escaped her lips, you took off your coat and fell on top of her body and sealed your lips against hers.

A surge of heat ignited between you and Wonyoung. The connection was overwhelming, causing the world around you to fade in and out of existence. Each subtle movement of your mouths was full of urgency, as if time itself had paused. The fact that you met this girl barely an hour ago had not an ounce of relevance in your mind.

While the pain in your cheek was a long forgotten souvenir, a new piercing sensation shot up your spine as Wonyoung’s nails dug deep into your back. You gasped into her mouth before biting down on her lip, only for her to bite yours back even harder. The raw, visceral intensity of the coppery essence hitting your taste buds made you lust for her even more - something that, a minute ago, you would not have imagined was conceivable.

Each subtle movement of your tongue was with purpose, exploring the delicate contours of hers, your tongues dancing together with intoxicating urgency. She met each of your movements with her own, even now matching your energy to a tee. The silent conversation consisting of flicks and swirls engulfed the world around you, overpowering even the thumping music downstairs where Mozart had been replaced by some generic club noise of the youth.

While Wonyoung’s hands explored every inch of your back, your own hand began roaming over her curves, tracing her body to give you a perfect image of her frame despite your eyes being closed. As your hands slid past her hips, giving them a rough but quick press with your fingers, your lips parted for the first time.

“Yes,” Wonyoung gasped, her chest heaving up and down against your body.

That was it, all she was going to give you before she reached up with her hands to cup your face, pulling you back into a kiss.

With newfound inspiration, you swiftly slipped your hands up Wonyoung’s dress. As your fingers snaked their way up her thigh towards the waistband of her underwear, they paused for just a second, leaving the smallest hint of timidness. A hint that evaporated into thin air as soon as Wonyoung gasped softly into your mouth, a signal of provocation that filled your hands with boldness.

As difficult as it was, you lifted yourself up away from Wonyoung’s mouth until you were holding yourself right above her. The two of you locked eyes for just a brief second before, in one swift motion, you yanked down the lacy black panties you had been getting peeks of all night.

Wonyoung gasped again, shutting her eyes tight and arching her back towards the roof. You took the opportunity, leaving her panties at her knees, and lunged forward into her neck like a moth to a flame.

Your lips pressed deeply into her skin, absolutely intoxicated by her taste. A mix of sweetness and warmth, a temptation that left you craving more. Each consecutive kiss was met with a hitch of her breath that just made you want her even more.

Inch by inch you moved lower down her body, pressing your mouth against her clavicle a few times before slipping lower into the neckline of her dress. Wonyoung’s slender fingers pressed into the back of your head, shoving your mouth deep into her chest, pressing your face against the thin fabric covering her soft breasts. Urgency began taking over, an insatiable hunger from within, and you began lowering yourself even more. You slid all the way backwards, dropping to your knees at the edge of the bed, and you finally placed your gaze on your true prize.

Just a few irrelevant inches in front of you, Wonyoung’s pussy was there for your taking. Those delicate folds radiating tantalizing allure, glistening with the essence of desires. Each curve of her skin seemed to call to you, urging you to forget everything and to just shove your face as deep up her dress as physically possible.

Then, abruptly, your view was blocked by Wonyoung’s gentle fingers.

“You okay?” you asked, looking up at her as she sat up at the edge of the bed.

All that confidence, that lust, that demand, it all turned to a facade in the span of seconds. In front of you wasn’t that same intimidating princess that you met earlier in the night. It was a vulnerable and beautiful girl. Even after the sudden change, you were still just as attracted to the girl; If anything, you were more attracted to her vulnerable side.

“Wonyoung?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she shook her head and took a deep breath. “I’m good, let’s do this.”

Something just felt a little bit off. Earlier, she was so adamant about fucking you, almost to the point where you were starting to question if she was secretly part of the party’s entertainment. If you hadn’t seen her reject those other guys, you maybe would have believed she was being paid to be here, but still something felt not right.

“If you’re having doubts-”

“No, come on,” Wonyoung interrupted you. “I want this.”

“Then lean back,” you instructed her, deciding to take it slow until you were able to shake this feeling you had.

Wonyoung listened to you and leaned back on the bed, her legs dangling off the edge. You gently spread them apart from the knees, resulting in her tiny dress riding up her body slightly. You softly grabbed her hand and moved it away, unblocking your view of her glistening pussy. As you stared at her pussy again, you helped her untangle her panties from her feet before tossing them across the room without any thought.

Your mouth began salivating uncontrollably, you just needed a taste of Wonyoung’s pussy. Showing just the slightest bit of restraint, you first grabbed both of her hands and interlocked your fingers with hers before pushing forward.

Her whole body shivered as your warm breath teased her skin, igniting the tension in the room into an inferno of heat. As soon as your lips made contact with Wonyoung’s pussy, your world flipped upside down. The subtle - yet intoxicating - taste of tangy sweetness lingered on your tongue, sending waves of warmth through your entire body.

With each exploration of Wonyoung’s pussy, your connection with her deepened. New sensations were discovered, each one hitting like a truck, overwhelming you time after time. You’ve never tasted a pussy that has had you this addicted. You wanted it all - greed began taking over.

Your lips pressed down hard against her skin, creating a seal between you and her. Electricity shot through you as Wonyoung’s breath quickened. Warmth and desire attacked both your taste and hearing now as the next lick of Wonyoung’s tantalizing mix left her moaning into the thickening air of the luxurious bedroom.

“Oh fuck,” Wonyoung moaned softly, squeezing hard against your fingers.

Her addictive sweetness was overwhelming. You were losing track of time, all you could focus on was your attempt to quench this undeniable craving for her body. Nothing could stop you, not as long as she kept responding to each touch, each lick, soft gasps escaping her lips - It was a dangerous loop.

Only a few more - or maybe it was a lot more - moments of pleasure were left for you to enjoy. Before you knew it, Wonyoung’s body seized up, quivering against your lips. A rush of exhilaration surged through you as Wonyoung’s melodic gasps of pleasure began caressing your ears.

It was as if the world had exploded in a cascade of warmth. Her fingers had this newfound strength that made you feel like she was about to snap your hand in half, and her body began to arch even more as every muscle in her body tensed up. The lovely trembling of her body kept your mouth glued to her pussy, sharing in the ecstasy of her climax.

The fulfillment you had coursing through your body as you finally lifted your mouth off her pussy was impossible to compare. You stood up, admiring the absolute mess of a girl laying on the edge of the bed before you. There was no denying it, your cock was begging to be freed, to get a chance with Wonyoung’s body. Just as you unbuckled your pants and began lowering them, the most soul-crushing sound in the universe hit your ears.

“What the hell, who locked this?”

“It shouldn’t be, guests aren’t supposed to be up here,” a second voice answered, giving the door another shake. “Maybe someone locked it earlier. Here, I have a key somewhere.”

“Shit,” you whispered to Wonyoung before quickly buckling your pants back up. “We gotta go.”

She nodded rapidly, suddenly recovering from the intensity of her orgasm just a minute ago, fear filling her pupils as she stood up and froze. You quickly grabbed your jacket and her heels before pointing to the bathroom. Wonyoung ran across the room towards the bathroom as you followed, pausing briefly to shove her ring from the dresser into your pocket - you didn’t want to leave any evidence.

If your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest, you would have loved to admire the beauty of the bathroom. It was like entering a luxurious spa retreat. The air was infused with a subtle blend of essential oils that were supposed to calm you down - unfortunately they weren’t working. The walls, creamy marble decorated with gold highlights, created a feeling of warmth and tranquility - unfortunately this also wasn’t working.

“There,” you pointed towards a massive window above the tub. “Hold these,” you handed Wonyoung her heels.

As you put on your coat quickly, you noticed again just how terrified Wonyoung was. You took a second to pause, ignoring the dire situation you had found yourself in, and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. Her cheeks burned bright crimson as you turned back to the window, climbing onto the edge of the tub to open it.

“It’s a bit of a jump,” you admitted, looking back over your shoulder as you leaned out the window. “You trust me?”

Wonyoung nodded, still unable to speak. She stepped forward, taking your outstretched hand, and leaned over to look out the window with you.

“I changed my mind,” she gasped, dropping her heels into the tub below you in panic.

“Hey,” you wrapped your arms around her. “I don’t know that much, but I do know the host of this place isn’t one to be messed with.”

“But I’m scared,” she whispered quietly into your chest.

“I know,” you let go of her and held both of her shoulders, staring her directly in the face. “I won’t make you jump, but if you trust me, I’m telling you it’ll be fine.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting to the window before returning to you, but then she took a deep breath and nodded.

“Perfect,” you took her heels and dropped them out the window. You could see the pain in her eyes at the delay before the sound of them hitting the grass, but all you could do was smile meekly at her. “Alright, I’m going to go first and then catch you, but then you need to promise me that you’ll be able to jump alone.”

“I promise,” Wonyoung answered with conviction.

“Good girl,” you gave her another kiss before climbing up into the window. The edge was sharper than you expected, and you ended up cutting your hand. “Fuck, be careful, it’s sharp.”

“Got it,” Wonyoung replied, helping support your body as you climbed up.

As carefully and quickly as you could, you grabbed the ledge and lowered your body out the window. After taking a deep breath, looking up at Wonyoung’s face of concern above you, you let go.

All things considered, the fall went as well as it could have. It honestly wasn’t that bad as the soft grass made for a perfect landing spot. Without wasting time inspecting for any injuries, you turned your head upwards to where Wonyoung looked frozen again.

“Come on,” you whispered, knowing that you couldn’t yell. “I got you, just do it.”

Sweat began dripping from your forehead as you began losing hope. She wasn’t going to jump. She was too scared. Your heart began thumping out of your chest. Maybe you should have lowered her down first. Maybe you should have just opened the door and tried to make an excuse.

None of that mattered, though, as suddenly you saw Wonyoung’s feet come out of the window. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched her lower herself as low as she could. She looked down at you, making eye contact for a moment, a moment where time froze, before suddenly letting go.

It all happened so fast. One second you were looking up at her, the next second you heard her scream, and now you were on the grass with Wonyoung’s body on top of yours.

“Are you okay?” you quickly asked as adrenaline shot through your body.

“I think so,” she answered as she hyperventilated in your arms. “Sorry about the scream.”

She took a moment to compose herself before getting off you and standing up. Only once she held her hand to help you up did you notice how intense the pain in your side was.

It was excruciating, the worst pain you have ever felt. You almost wanted to fall back to the ground in a crying fit, but you somehow - with the power of more adrenaline most likely - ignored it and kept your head straight.

“Grab your shoes, let’s go,” your voice far more stable than even you expected.

Without hesitation, Wonyoung followed your instructions and put her heels back on.

“Shit,” she gasped, looking down at her dress.

There was a large tear on the side, exposing a patch of skin on her hip towards her back.

“It’s fine, just stay close to me,” you held your arm out for her to nestle herself next to you. It hurt like hell when her body pressed against your side, but you kept ignoring it. “We’ll have to walk around the building, if anyone asks anything just say you’re my wife and we stepped out for some fresh air and time alone.”

“Oh, sure,” Wonyoung began flushing profusely at the plan.

WIthout giving it a second thought, you lowered your arm around her body and pressed your palm against the part of her dress that had the tear to cover up the skin before guiding her along the path. The two of you swiftly walked around the house, silently admiring once again how beautiful it was. You kept your heads down, making sure not to draw any attention from the windows.

Luckily, everyone inside was seemingly preoccupied in their own little worlds, not surprising considering the pretentious nature of the event. You made it to the front without any issue, all that was left was a cartoonishly long driveway. By the front door stood a couple who seemed to be having a very heated argument.

“Just keep going,” you muttered quietly to Wonyoung, walking past the couple as they began raising their voices.

It was only a couple of steps before Wonyoung began giggling at the slurs being launched into the night sky by the couple before taking off as fast as her heels allowed down the driveway. You chased after her, laughing as the pain in your side disappeared for a moment.

“I think we’re good,” you began panting with your hands on your knees as you caught your breath.

“That was insane,” Wonyoung laughed, falling to the ground in front of you.

“I know right? That was…” your voice trailed off as you looked up and caught a glimpse up Wonyoung’s dress. “Oh fuck.”

“What?”

“First of all, sorry, I didn’t mean to look,” you turned your head away from her. “But we definitely left something in the room.”

“What are you… Oh!” Wonyoung squealed, pulling her legs together tight. “You pervert!”

“Seriously?”

“I’m kidding,” Wonyoung giggled, standing up to her feet, making what seemed to be an obviously intentional ‘mistake’ of flashing her pussy at you again before fixing her dress. “It’s fine, no way they’ll be able to trace them back to me.”

“Good,” you held your hand out for her to take. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As the night wore on, the two of you strolled across the waterfront town, which was fortunately in a very upscale and safe area. The velvety darkness, punctuated by the tranquil glow of the moon, brought you an otherworldly level of peace - especially after the intensity of your evening.

The streets were serene, only disturbed by the sound of Wonyoung’s heels hitting the pavement in a gentle rhythm and the occasional rustle of leaves as the nightly breeze flew past you. From time to time you’d hear the sounds of laughter coming from people on their own nightly adventures being carried by the crisp and cool air.

“Oh, I’m an idiot,” you stopped abruptly and took off your coat. “Sorry, mind was on other things.”

“I considered asking,” Wonyoung giggled as she accepted your coat and draped it around her shoulders. “But I figured you weren’t really the gentlemen type after I caught you looking up my dress.”

“Oh come on,” you protested. “First of all, accident. Secondly, you didn’t catch me, I confessed.”

“I know, I’m just giving you a hard time,” Wonyoung giggled softly. “We still need to finish what we started by the way,” she added, giving you a little nudge in the ribs.

“Ah,” you gasped, inhaling sharply through your teeth.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No no, I’m good,” you lied, hiding the fact that it felt like there was a knife in your ribs right now. “You wanna sit down for a bit? It’s gorgeous out there.”

“Sure,” Wonyoung agreed, looking over at the water.

The two of you sat on the stone wall that bordered the path with your feet dangling over the edge. Now that you weren’t walking, the frigid night started to hit you. Thankfully, Wonyoung understood what you wanted when you inched closer to her, and she lay her head peacefully onto your shoulder. You followed her lead, gently resting your cheek against the top of her head.

The world seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but the soft sounds of water lapping against the shore. The moonlight shimmered across the water, leading a never-ending path deep into the night. The salty sea breeze and the floral tones coming from Wonyoung’s hair pleasantly combined into a mixture of satisfaction.

It felt nice, everything that happened tonight was irrelevant now. All that mattered was this view, and the warmth of Wonyoung leaning against you. Time stood still, yet again, as the two of you silently soaked in the beauty of the world around you. The connection you felt with her felt infinite, forever to be etched into your brain.

“I need to confess something,” Wonyoung broke the silence as she stared down at her hands as if she had never seen them before. “I’ve never actually been with a guy before.”

Carefully, you lifted your head off hers and turned to look down at her. She followed suit, lifting her head off your shoulder, turning to look up at you.

“Wonyoung,” you paused to give her hand a little squeeze. “This doesn’t change what I think about you, but I’m a little surprised.”

“Tonight was supposed to be the night,” she continued, her eyes glowing in the moonlight. “That was the whole reason I went to this party.”

“Well, it wasn’t the reason I enjoyed my time with you tonight.”

“Isn’t that why you went upstairs with me?”

“Truthfully, yes,” you admitted. “Can I ask what you meant by that being the whole reason you were there tonight?”

“Exactly what I said,” she replied. “I… felt like it’s a bit embarrassing that I haven’t done it yet.”

“I don’t think it’s something you should be embarrassed about,” you said gently. “But why at such a pretentious party filled with douchebags?”

“Um, you were also at that party,” she cocked a brow at you.

“Not by choice,” you retaliated. “You’re the only reason I even stayed as long as I did.”

“Sounds like you’re still saying you want to be my first.”

“Look, I just met you, I don’t know much about you,” you replied gently after a pause to think. “But I do know I’ve loved every second we’ve spent together. I also know that I would do it all again in a heartbeat without changing a thing, even if I knew this right here was the end and we both went our separate ways.”

“Really? You wouldn’t maybe change the height of the house?” Wonyoung giggled.

“Nope, but maybe I’d change the way you fell on me.”

“I’m really sorry, does it still hurt?” Wonyoung’s face suddenly turned to concern.

So, she did know how to apologize.

“It’s fine,” you smiled at her.

“You said you’d be fine if the night ended right here and we never spoke again,” she whispered softly. “Is there any way this didn’t have to be the end?”

“Is that what you want?” you asked while letting go of her hand.

She nodded slowly.

“Then no, it doesn’t need to end here, I’d love to see you again."

“Thank you,” she smiled warmly. “But you never answered my question.”

There was another pause for you to think about your answer.

“Whether or not I’m your first, tonight is not the night for us to make that decision,” you answered carefully.

Wonyoung lunged forward and hugged you tightly. It was so sudden, you weren’t prepared. Unfortunate, really, as her very pure-intentioned action ended up being the most painful event of the night; A very loud and visceral cry left your mouth as intense pain shot into your ribs.

“What happened?” Wonyoung gasped, immediately letting go of you in fear.

“Nothing,” you winced in pain as a second wave shot up your body.

Wonyoung, as gently as she could, grabbed your shirt and slowly lifted it up.

“Oh my God!” she screamed, covering her mouth with her hands as the moonlight illuminated a massive purple patch on the side of your body. “Why the fuck have you been hiding this from me?”

“It’s fine,” you winced as you lowered your shirt back down gingerly. “Just a bruise.”

“Just a bruise?” she repeated as tears began spilling from her eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Stop, it’s fine,” you brought your hands up to her face and carefully wiped her eyes with your thumbs. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is! I’m the one who-”

Her panic was silenced as you pressed your lips against hers again. You held your mouth to hers for a few seconds before slowly pulling back, leaving her staring at you with her mouth still slightly agape.

“Please relax,” you smiled warmly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Should I take you to the hospital?”

“No.”

“Can I at least bring you back to my place?”

“It’s no big deal, don’t worry.”

“Please.”

“Alright,” you sighed, admittedly feeling quite touched by her concern. “My place is just up the street, how about you walk me home before I call you a cab?”

“Okay,” Wonyoung leapt to her feet and held her hands out for you. “I can live with that.”

“Thank you,” you graciously accepted her hands and stood up with her, wincing again in pain.

“Here, does that feel fine?” she asked as she placed your arm on her shoulder.

“I can still walk, my legs are fine,” you chuckled. “But yes, it’s perfect.”

The walk only took a couple of minutes, during which not a single word was uttered between the two of you. Yet, somehow, it didn’t feel awkward or strange. It actually felt incredibly comforting walking through the night with Wonyoung. Things were so different now compared to when you met her earlier in the night, it felt like you’ve known this girl all your life.

“One second,” you unwrapped your arm from Wonyoung’s shoulder to reach for your phone.

“I got it,” she quickly reached into your pocket, pulling it out for you.

“Thanks,” you smiled at her thoughtfulness before unlocking the front door to your apartment with the app.

“So fancy,” Wonyoung teased before stepping into the lobby with you, her heels tapping loudly against the marble floors. “I guess it makes sense considering where I found you.”

“It’s not that special,” you replied humbly. “Thank you again, for everything.”

“No, thank you,” Wonyoung responded. “Also, does your physical condition have any bearing on your answer earlier?”

“No,” you smiled at her. “I stand by what I said.”

“Okay, just making sure, let’s go,” she pressed the button for the elevator.

“Let me call that cab for you first.”

“Not yet,” Wonyoung held her hand over your phone. “Let me at least help you clean up the cut.”

“It’s late, I really don’t want to keep you up. I’ll manage.”

“Do you have a girl upstairs waiting for you?” she asked abruptly.

“What? No, of course not. I live alone.”

“Are you uncomfortable with me being in your apartment?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go,” she stepped into the elevator, arms crossed while staring at you.

“I appreciate this,” you said as you stepped in and pressed the button for your floor.

After walking down the hall towards your apartment, Wonyoung forced you to sit on your couch.

“Where’s your medicine cabinet?” she called out to you as she walked into your kitchen.

“Wonyoung I’m fine, I promise, I just need to rest,” you called back. “Just come sit with me for a bit.”

“Where is it?” Wonyoung walked back over, completely ignoring you, with an ice pack in her hands. “Take your shirt off.”

Realizing that she wasn’t going to give up, you sighed before carefully unbuttoning your shirt and opening it up. The bruise had gotten worse, and it already looked terrible compared to earlier. In front of you, Wonyoung had stopped moving and her gaze was locked on your body.

“Wonyoung?” you held your hand out for the ice pack.

“Huh? Oh, right,” she began blushing as she handed you the pack. “Hold that to the bruise. Medicine cabinet?”

“Bathroom mirror,” you replied, gasping as the cool ice pressed against your skin.

It was definitely soothing, and you immediately felt a bit of relief. You watched Wonyoung walk towards the bathroom, your eyes slowly closing as you began drifting out of consciousness. The next thing you remember is the softest of soft touches against your cheek.

“Sorry, did I press too hard?” Wonyoung apologized gently as she continued rubbing vaseline on your cheek. “I’m leaving this one uncovered so that it heals faster and doesn’t scar.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your heart rate spiking as you opened your eyes to see Wonyoung’s face right in front of yours. Once again, she was entirely focused on the wound, her gaze never faltering.

“You’re welcome, I wrapped your hand up as well. Are there any other injuries that you know of?”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head.

“You didn’t have any…”

Those were the last few words you heard before you faded out of consciousness again. The next time your eyes opened up was when you heard the click of your front door opening.

“Still alive?” Wonyoung called out softly when she noticed your eyes were open.

“What, how long…” you paused to look at the ice pack, which had melted entirely by now, before continuing, “...have I been asleep?”

“Like thirty minutes or so,” Wonyoung answered casually as she sat down next to you and removed the pack. “Just rest, you can sleep again if you want.”

She pulled a little bottle out of a small bag and took the lid off before sticking two fingers into it and scooping out some of the cream.

“What’s that?” you mumbled.

“It’s just an anti-inflammatory,” she answered warmly before very gently rubbing her fingers against the bruise. “Does it hurt?” she asked as you let out a little gasp.

“No, it feels good.”

“Good, it’s supposed to,” she smiled as she continued to rub the ointment into your skin. “I’m convinced there’s no girl living here, by the way. After seeing the state of your medicine cabinet, it’s definitely just a man here.”

“Why would I lie…” you mumbled back, slowly fading out of consciousness again. “I really like you…”

Wonyoung paused, her cheeks turning rosy again, before closing the lid of the bottle.

“That should be enough, try not to wipe it off,” Wonyoung said casually before standing up. “Does it hurt when you breathe in?”

“No,” you groaned, sitting up slightly.

“That’s good, you don’t have a fever either,” she noted while pressing the back of her hand against your forehead. “I think you’re right and that it’s just bruising, but I’m taking you to the doctor tomorrow to get x-rays.”

“It’s fine,” you smiled before wincing in pain again.

“I should really be taking you right now to be honest,” she said while staring at your bare chest. “It could be a fractured rib.”

“Tomorrow then, I’ll go.”

“You’re saying it like you have a choice.”

“Also, wait a minute, are those my clothes?” you just now noticed what she was wearing. “When did you put those on?”

“I wasn’t going to walk into a store with a ripped dress and no panties, you idiot,” Wonyoung shook her head in disbelief. “Get some sleep, as soon as you wake up we’re going to see a physician.”

“Thank you…” you mumbled quietly, slouching back down into the couch and closing your eyes. “Goodnight.”

After a small pause where you heard a couple of footsteps, you felt Wonyoung place a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Goodnight.”

---

A/N:

I don't think I have too much to say about this one. I wrote it because @writerpeach made me horny for Wonyoung. I know it's not the smuttiest of my works, but frankly I was more focused on other aspects of my writing for this one. I've left it open for future parts, no idea when I'll be writing them but I do already have the plot.

Wrote and edited this whole thing in essentially one weekend, so forgive any mistakes. This one really was more of a test for my own writing capability. A small side project if you will. Feel free to let me know what you guys think, and if you have any sort of interesting requests I'm not opposed to taking them for more practice.

[usedpidemo]

Girlfriend experience (Twice Tzuyu)

“I need your help.” 

You’re typing up your next application letter when you’re suddenly interrupted by Tzuyu’s familiar voice. “Sure, what’s up?”

There’s no way you’re turning down a request from Tzuyu. 

She pauses for a moment, contemplating her next words carefully, knowing regardless of the outcome, everything will never be the same. 

Then, she speaks.

“Can you be my boyfriend for a day?”

—————

You don’t take it seriously. For one, you know damn well you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Chou Tzuyu, let alone earn the coveted title of ‘boyfriend.’ It’s already a privilege to share rooms with her in college, how much more to be her personal tutor. Sure, she loves to mess around with you every now and then, but even by her standards, this is one joke too out there to make.

“Okay Tzu, very funny, but come to me when you actually need help with something,” you tell her, chuckling, unable to hide your toothy smile before returning to your computer screen. 

You overlook the intent behind her stare. 

“I’m serious. I really need someone to pose as my boyfriend for a day,” she replies, to the point. Another thing about living with Tzuyu is that she’s always straightforward. There’s no beating around the bush with her; everything she says is the truth. So why aren’t you taking her plea with a little more genuine concern?

“Yeah. Me. Your boyfriend. As if that’s gonna convince anyone,” you reply, typing away at your keyboard, unfazed by her statement. You still don’t buy it.

“Yes. I believe you can be my boyfriend.”

You laugh again. More sarcastic than amused this time. “Real cute, Tzu.” You face your roommate with an unamused grimace. “Now what do you want from me?”

“Do I need to slap you to prove I’m not lying?” Tzuyu returns your mockery with a contemptuous glare of her own.

Still under the impression that she’s toying with you, you playfully challenge her. “Sure. I don’t think you’re being serious—”

A thunderous echo ripples between the space between you and Tzuyu, immediately closing the gap. Everything happens in an instant. You’re sent swerving back, along with your swivel chair. A bright sore blot forms on your cheek, the pain not registering right away. A little more applied force on that hit and she would have dashed your head against the wall. 

“Oh—damn.” You groan, pressing a palm on the reddened area, flush with blood, as if a bump had formed from the sharp impact. “All right, I believe you now.”

She’s shaking her head, her expression intense, humorless. “Now will you hear me out?”

“Yes!” you shout at her, inflection teetering on screaming, nodding your head in agreement.

“Great. Go fix up your face first, then I’ll explain everything,” she says before turning away and walking out the front door, leaving you on your own to fix yourself.

—————

Tzuyu doesn’t even come back to the apartment by the time you clean up yourself. It’s late in the evening when she bursts in, bringing a few pairs of freshly bought expensive outfits. It’s part of the package living with one of the richest women in your college. Her entire wardrobe is fitted with nothing but designer clothing, jewelry costing up to the hundreds of thousands, and tailor made outfits designed to fit only her and her alone. Her casual attire could be your Sunday best. Her pajamas could be your everyday wear. It’s as if her entire personality is to be a model—and if she were, she’d be the face of every brand and on the front cover of every fashion magazine in existence.

“I know this sounds outrageous, but I want you to be my boyfriend even for a day,” she repeats herself, the idea still too incomprehensible for your brain. You could listen to it again and again. For anyone, the thought is nothing but an impossible fantasy, but for Tzuyu to personally pick you, even if it's only make-believe, is something special. 

You have more questions than answers. “Yeah, but why? Why do you want a boyfriend for a day?”

“I’m visiting my parents for the weekend. Well, I’m forced to.” 

In contrast to her extravagant lifestyle, she’s sharing takeout chicken with you. More often than not, you eat the same food, with Tzuyu often deferring to you for choices. Usually fast food, it’s actually her preference.

“Okay, so what does this have to do with having a boyfriend?”

She takes a sip of her sake. “They expect me to have one by the time I graduate.”

“Okay and? What happens if you don’t?”

“Arranged marriage. I promised my parents that I would find a boyfriend by the time I turn 25. It’s how I got to be independent, how I got into college”  —she faces you, her lovely eyes twinkling— “and how I met you.”

Observing Tzuyu, you notice a few details. The most obvious being that she’s pretty, even when chomping on a chicken leg’s bone. The second is her worried gaze. This is something that’s clearly been bothering her for a while. She has deferred to you countless times for multiple academic projects ranging from research to exams, each request building more and more trust, to the point where you’ve become her closest confidant, in addition to being her roommate. Unlike before, this is not a test with a defined system and something easily manipulated and planned for, and you can’t really prepare any better either.

On your end, she pays generously; you’re only applying for an internship because your course demands it. You could start your business with the money earned from helping her. But her payroll will eventually stop.

“Listen. We might never see each other again when we graduate in a few months, and I’m sure you’re tired of me asking for your help when you could be doing more,” she says, tone gloomy, nervous. “But this is more you being the only guy I can trust—this is my freedom on the line. Even if I mostly hated my time here, it’s still better than whatever life they want for me.”

You don’t question her reasoning, even if that last bit sounds hyperbolic. Surely it can’t be that bad. You and Tzuyu have a lot more in common than you realize: you don’t like the college grind, you’re both admittedly reclusive, and you’ll miss each other’s presence when the time comes.

“Couldn't you try getting someone as a stand-in? I’m not even in the top 100 most handsome guys in the student body. It’ll never fly.”

She chuckles, showing flashes of positive energy for the first time in a while. “Nope. They’d fumble the script so bad it wouldn’t be worth the shot. I’d figure since you’re like one of twelve people I constantly talk to, I could trust you to be a convincing enough boyfriend.”

“Does it have to be a boyfriend? Why not a girl?”

“I wish. I’d love to bring Sana along, and she’d be such a joy for them, but boomer parents, am I right?”

You both share a hearty laugh. 

“Anyway,” Tzuyu puts away her plate, having finished her share of dinner to present you three shopping bags full of newly bought clothes. “These are all yours, just wear the one you like the most to our date. Plus I don’t think I ever bought you new clothes?”

“Nope, nope you haven’t.” You shake your head, remembering that your current computer setup, PS5, Lego collection, and closet full of jackets and joggers that’s been collecting dust in the corner of your room were all paid under Tzuyu’s name. 

—————

“You never told me they were still living in Taiwan,” you say to Tzuyu, watching the ground from your airplane seat, which happens to be next to the wing. You’ve never been on a flight before—until now. Something you should have admitted, but your pride got in the way. “I thought you said they owned property here!”

Tzuyu blushes in shame. “Did I?” she questions herself, before suddenly recalling, “Oh yeah! I lived here when I was in fourth grade. It was only one year though. I loved my schooling here; they didn’t.”

None of what she said fully registers in your brain. What does occupy your head is the idea of plummeting 30,000 feet from the air. Even with all the safety measures, your mind races with a hundred scenarios ending in your sudden and tragic demise. 

As the plane begins to move before eventually ascending, you can’t stare away as outside scenery turns into vague blurs sweeping by. In just a few moments, you’re so far high that you can only see clouds. It sends your brain into overdrive. Meanwhile, Tzuyu’s completely relaxed, having placed a sleep mask for the 15 hour flight to come. She doesn’t have to see at your worst, repeatedly cursing over the sound of music playing through her earphones. At least you’re comfortably secluded in first class, where each pair of passengers occupy their own private cabin for sleeping, eating, and even showering. No one can hear you scream.

The staff can’t come fast enough, even if closing the blinds is the simplest thing you can do. 

—————

On arrival, Tzuyu’s surprises keep coming in droves. A personalized driver and car awaits at the airport’s exit, carrying all your luggage by himself. He’s got his own expensive suit, opening the rear passenger doors on your behalf.

“Welcome home, Miss Chou. And this companion of yours is?”

“My boyfriend,” she warmly tells the driver, eliciting a curious look from him towards you. You’re not doing anything wrong—yet—but you can tell by his expression that you’re not giving off a good first impression. “I’m taking him to meet my parents.”

“Of course. Where shall I drive you? Shall I take you directly to them today?”

“No. I’d like to spend the rest of the day at my own place.”

“Certainly. Penthouse it is.”

After a leisurely half-hour drive through the city, the car pulls up in front of a high-rise building. The front entrance alone can be its own five-star luxury hotel and resort. Tzuyu says only millionaires are able to buy and own flats here, which makes her ownership of the penthouse even more absurd. Only now you’re witnessing the fullest extent of her wealth after seeing brief flashes throughout college.

Her lavish penthouse welcomes you from the moment you step off the elevator. Despite being away for years, the place looks as good as new, well-maintained in her absence. Every single room is twice the size of your whole apartment back home, with countless amenities and utilities dedicated to a certain purpose. There’s up to five bedrooms, each decked with their own king-size mattress and as many bathrooms to accommodate up to four guests at a time. The whole setup is topped up by a background of the city skyline seen through floor wide glass windows.

You don’t really have any words to say at this point. You’re just soaking it all in, filled with wonder and awe.

“All this and you still chose to live in a regular ass dorm,” you comment, pressing one of the piano keys, its sound echoing all over the massive place. “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

“Didn’t really have a choice,” she says, pacing in and out of the rooms, her voice reverberating throughout the living room. “I had to get close to someone, and having my own place was not gonna help whatsoever.”

“Christ—” you mutter to yourself, still taken aback at how fucking expensive Tzuyu lives. Someone of her kind shouldn’t be pretending to act like everyone else—struggling to get by and having to grind their ass off. She doesn’t need anything beyond a high school diploma and some common sense; she should be enjoying herself, living a larger than life lifestyle that others will be jealous of.  

Still, this shouldn’t be stressing her out. Despite her numerous rebuttals, she could have easily placed someone else in your shoes right now, someone more capable to face her seemingly stringent family. 

You can only draw it up to rich people problems, something you’ll likely never experience in your lifetime.

“Would you like to go out for dinner later? Or would you like for us to just have delivery instead?” Tzuyu asks, approaching you with an endearing smile and an enticing offer: on her hand are a dangling pair of keys with a prancing horse etched on them. 

She has you under her spell, if everything else wasn’t convincing enough.

“Name me a nice place to eat and I’ll think about it.”

—————

You end up staying out way later than intended. 

It’s a miracle her car doesn’t have a single dent by the time you return to the condominium. In the time you’ve spent with Tzuyu, you’ve grown more comfortable with the girlfriend role given to you. You don’t even wait for the valet driver to open her side of the door; the act comes naturally. She steps out of the vehicle, one leg peeking through her dress, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She reaches out her hand for you to take, and it feels like a habit you’ve been doing for years.

You’ve gotten your fair share of jealous looks over the past few hours. Even now, bystanders in the front lobby are making a scene out of you being together. All of them are asking the same question: how does someone like you have a woman like Chou Tzuyu by your side.

Deep down, you recognize it’s an act, a part of the show. Tzuyu knows this too. She sells her parts like she’s selling her beauty: naturally well. On the other hand, you are showing tiny cracks on your face, only crumbling after you disappear from everyone’s view behind that elevator.

“So, are you ready for tomorrow?” she asks you, friendly and soft as ever.

You sigh, unable to find it in you to answer. Even as you open your mouth, you lack the conviction to give off a confident response, and it shows in your word choice. “Maybe.”

Tzuyu furrows an eyebrow, frowning. “What’s up?”

You can’t even look at her as you talk, only finding some semblance of relief watching the city from your view. Lovely, just like Tzuyu. “What if this doesn’t work,” you tell her, tone low, evidently anxious. What if—”

“Don’t overthink it,” she turns you toward her, brushing a hand up and down your shoulder. For a moment, you see her eyes gleam with the night life’s reflection. “Even if it all goes horribly wrong, the blame completely falls on me. Remember that.”

“I might never see you again. Hell, you might never go back,” you reply, your doubts not quelled in the slightest. Neither of you care that you’ve got your hands on each other, unwilling to let go.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she says, unfazed by your pessimism. “At least I made up for everything you’ve done for me, including this.”

“Really? As if you haven’t been doing that since I first helped you—”

Tzuyu laughs, her cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I got nothing better to spend it on. Might as well do it on someone who actually deserves it.”

You’re not sure whether to feel elated or flattered by that statement. Your rosy cheeks say the former. Perhaps this is a consequence of spending way too much time with her, or that you’ve been putting plenty of investment in your role. Either way, you’re better off spending the remainder of your night not overthinking about it. It’s been a long day. 

“I’m going to bed. It’s getting late, and you said we’re getting picked up early tomorrow.” 

“Right. I completely forgot, too. I guess we must have been having too much fun together, huh?”

Neither of you even bring up the fact that you were holding each other close the entire time, bordering on romance. It’s probably for the best.

—————

“Hey.”

Tzuyu’s feathery voice brings your attention back to reality. For most of the ride, you’ve been mindlessly staring out the window. From passing cars to idle trees, from long stretches of highway to winding mountain roads. Chatter inside the vehicle passes through your ears like radio static. Thoughts racing in your mind comprise numerous outcomes and what-ifs, none of which you’re able to see the ending. Never mind the fact that she’s looking her most divine, her most prim, perfectly suited for such a special occasion. The less you think about what’s ahead, the better.

She doesn’t make it any easier, especially when she’s leaning forward with her seatbelt, her warm expressions invoking sweet innocence and genuine concern. Her fingers are twiddling with yours, gripped to the leather seats, trying to get as much of your interest. “You all right?”

You swallow down a nonexistent lump in your throat. “I’m fine. What is it?”

“My parents are asking what your favorite food is so they can prepare it for you.” 

“Tell them I like beef,” is your immediate response before looking out the window again. She doesn’t press you any further, thankfully leaving you with your thoughts for the rest of the drive.

The car eventually stops in front of a large gate. Not a sign of security in sight, except for a pair of cameras positioned on both ends. After a brief scan, the entryway opens of its own accord. You’ve left the city so far behind, you might as well be high above the sky. 

A couple more miles of driving till you finally reach your destination: a large mansion with a fountain statue in front of the entrance. A dozen expensive cars are parked right outside, all covered in sheets for safety. None of these details are surprising considering you’ve previously seen Tzuyu’s wealth firsthand. You’re starting to believe the rumors about her being the heiress of some business empire are true.

The driver needlessly announces that you’ve arrived before he steps out to open the passenger doors—Tzuyu first, then yours.

To think you’d end up getting involved in family affairs straight out of a soap opera.

Tzuyu looks you in the eye, reaching out her hand with a reassuring nod. No words, just shared confidence and a slither of hope between you both. Despite the initial hesitation, you hold her and together, you enter the unknown.

Inside, more lavish decor greets you everywhere. Stuff that’s more alienating than welcoming. It’s a daunting presence being here that you end up forgetting to remove your shoes before entering, despite the butler’s admonishment. Tzuyu ends up snapping you back, and you quickly swap your footwear for theirs before advancing. Mercifully, there’s only two pairs of eyes in the room watching, but one is observing you through a harsh gaze.

The servant leads you out to a garden where you finally get a glimpse at Tzuyu’s parents for the first time. Also laid out on the lawn is a large table with different kinds of food being prepared by other butlers. Unsurprisingly, she runs ahead to greet them, leaving you on your own to introduce yourself to them.

“Welcome home, Tzu,” says both Papa Chou and Mama Chou to their daughter while she runs to her father, throwing a huge bear hug. She gives her mother a similarly loving embrace after.

Meanwhile, you’re taking little steps down the stairs to the garden, continually reminding yourself not to fuck up. 

“Oh! Right—” Tzuyu looks in your direction, notices your plodding pace. She’s pointing you out to her parents like you’re the most important person in the room. “That—that’s my boyfriend over there.”

At this point, you can easily fold a dozen different ways. Piss your pants, shit on them, run away like a spotted convict. You know as much about her family as anyone else in your position; the information given to you is incredibly scarce and vague at best. But you’re bound to Tzuyu’s hand like a string to a yarn. Your only saving grace is the hope that this event is a quick dine and drive and not some grandiose festivity.

It doesn’t help that the entire time you’ve spent with Tzuyu, not a single minute was spent on acting like her boyfriend.

All eyes fall upon you. It should have been a familiar feeling, something you can easily adjust to, but it isn’t. This is different. It’s not the same as being around friends and no-name strangers. Family judgment lingers on, especially after you’re through. Every little move counts.

Bowing to her parents, you pull your attempt at a friendly smile, falling somewhere between the line of goofy and awkward. “Great to meet you, Papa and Mama Chou.”

Your ‘girlfriend’ looks at you with a heightened sense of pride, convincing enough to be sincere. She’s hard carrying you in the acting department. Smiling more softly, she adds, “Shall we eat?”

—————

You and Tzuyu are seated opposite her parents on the large table, with a scrumptious feast filling in the space between. Food is eaten in small increments, with most of the lunch spent on lengthy conversation. It’s more of an interrogation and less of a friendly scene. 

“So—how did you meet?” asks Papa Chou, tone as typical of a protective father, cold, calculated, and stern. 

“He was my roommate when I got into university,” Tzuyu replies, constantly shooting quick glances at you, eating your share leisurely. Both of you agreed that unless asked, she’d take on the role of your mouthpiece.  You’re nodding; you’d say the same thing—and it’s one of the few things that’s true. “It was a chance encounter.”

“A roommate? As in—you moved into a dorm?” 

“Not exactly a dorm, but an apartment close to campus. The dorms were too small to fit all my stuff in.”

“You should have just moved into the dorms,” he says, aggressively munching his meal between sentences. “How can you sleep peacefully at night knowing he’s just right next door?”

“All right, let’s not offend our guest here.” Mama Chou interjects, trying to change the course of the conversation. You’d immediately refute him if your mouth isn’t filled with food at the moment. She faces you, asking, “So, how long have you been dating?”

Now you’re swallowing hard, caught off-guard by the surprise question aimed at you. Tzuyu’s hands are tied; she’s watching, but she won’t be saving you.

“About three years,” you say, staring back at your ‘girlfriend,’ looking for a lifeline by simply staring at her. You’re in love; no you’re not. “Some of our schedules overlapped too, so we helped each other out.”

“Yeah,” adds Tzuyu, nodding in agreement. “Without his help, I wouldn’t have passed some of my classes. If nothing else, he’s been nothing but kind and gracious to me.”

“That’s great to hear.” Mama Chou smiles; she’s clearly the friendlier and more approachable of the two parents so far. “I’m glad our daughter has a friend she can trust in college. But do you not have other friends too?”

“I’ve made a few friends besides him too.” Tzuyu interjects, stepping in right as you’re about to continue speaking. She presents a photo of her social circle at a restaurant, consisting entirely of the women she’s close with, including a fellow Taiwanese student. You met most of them because of her. “I hang out with the girls more than him, so don’t worry.”

“They’re all pretty.” Mama Chou looks at the picture with delight. On the other hand, Papa Chou remains stone faced and unimpressed. She’s pointing her finger at the girl to her daughter’s right. “Especially her.”

“Oh, her? That’s Sana from Japan. She’s my best friend actually,” replies Tzuyu, grinning toothily recalling her. “And the two behind her are Japanese too—Momo and Mina.”

“So it’s a multinational university? That’s cute.” 

“We’re still few and far between,” she corrects, putting away her phone. “It’s just that we happened to enter university at the same time, and we’re all foreigners, so we bonded through our shared experience living far from home. We’ll be graduating together in a few months.”

Her mother continues to nod concurrently, turning her attention away from her daughter to you again. “So what happens after you graduate? What are your plans?”

Initially, you hesitate, reaching a crossroads. You can follow the broad outline given by Tzuyu: something about opening a restaurant franchise, following her family’s footsteps in running a business empire, or say it as it is.

“I—don’t really know to be honest,” you tell her, glancing at Tzuyu, and she blinks rapidly, her smile wobbling. To everyone else, she looks calm otherwise. “I’m focusing on my studies right now, and I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

“What course are you taking?” 

“Mechanical Engineering. I want to work with cars and all that.”

“So you like cars, hm?” Papa Chou interrupts, leaning his head forward with intrigue. “Tell me—you watch F1? You better be!”

“Absolutely!” You’re staring at him, taking control over the conversation, growing comfortable with your newfound position.

“What’s your team? You better not say Red Bull or Ferrari.”

“McLaren.”

“Driver?”

“Lando.”

He laughs—heartily. He’s offering his hand for you to shake, which you do. You’re then tugged forward by the harsh tug of his grip, much to the amusement of everyone else. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine.” 

Before you know it, you’re being pulled aside and dragged away from Tzuyu and her mom, leading you to the other side of the mansion.

—————

“Good God,” you say, your jaw agape, blown away at what Papa Chou is presenting you: an orange McLaren F1 tucked away inside an enormous garage filled with other luxury cars. “This—this is my dream car.”

“Handsome, right?” He’s leaning by the door, grinning like a child. “It’s got a thousand miles on it too. Wifey doesn’t really like it, though. Says it takes up too much space in the garage.”

“Shit—sorry for my language—how’d you end up buying this?” you ask, swinging open the opposite butterfly door, admiring the interior. “There’s just no way this is real—”

“It’s as real as real gets.” He cuts you off, chuckling at your utter disbelief. “I bought it off some English comedian, then I had it restored and repainted. Says he’s crashed it a few times. Maybe he has, as you kids say, skill issue.”

“So—why are you showing me this?” you ask, turning to him as you’re both seated on opposing passenger sides.

“I was going to give this away to the one who was supposed to marry her,” he says, holding his side of the steering wheel. “But she wanted to live away from us. Very far away.”

You raise your eyebrows, curious.

“Tzuyu is a good person. She’s kind, compassionate and looks after those she’s close with. But she’s also blunt and to the point,” he continues, facing you mid-conversation. “If she feels that something is wrong, she won’t hesitate to call it out. She doesn’t care whether you’re friend or family. She trusts her intuition first above everything. So for her to have a boyfriend only means one thing: she really has full confidence in that person.

“I think you’re a good guy, and I thank you for helping her. But I don’t want my daughter to come home with a broken heart. I would tell you to leave her alone, but I don’t think she would want me to say that. So, I only want you to promise me this one thing.”

“And that is?”

“Make her feel she’s not alone.”

You blink. Again. A few times for good measure. There’s a lot to comprehend and digest, even when it’s been simplified to a simple promise. You’re not sure whether you can agree to that. It may be a straightforward command, but it’s one with a lot of weight borne on its shoulders.

“Promise me that you won’t leave her alone when you go back. Believe me when I say I haven’t seen her face shine that bright in years. I want to see my daughter smiling like that again when she comes home in the future. So I know she’s in good hands. Make sure she does not regret her decision.”

You look away, hesitant, uncertain whether this is still all for show or a genuine reminder. Now you realize how deeply connected you are to Tzuyu. You don’t remember life before meeting her, and you can’t imagine a life after her.

“I will.”

It isn’t the answer you want to give. You’re still trying to fully grasp everything. However, it is the answer that he wants to hear.

—————

After lunch, you and Tzuyu are left to your own devices. Your private talk with her father is played off as a fun discussion about his love for cars, completely disregarding the actual content of your conversation. Probably for the best; such an occasion demands a positive vibe overall. You spend the afternoon exploring their gigantic mansion, amazed by the vastness of the place over the grandiose material taking most of the space. If not for the presence of a butler at every corner, you can easily get lost for days.

“How long did you live here till you moved out?” you ask Tzuyu, examining a childhood photo of her with her family, including someone you haven’t met—her brother.

“Lived here during my teens. Was homeschooled throughout my primary years. Moved out when I was sixteen entering senior high.” She notices you taking a hold of her family picture, particularly noting her brother. “He’s also studying abroad, too. Not as far away as me, but still far from home.”

“Does he know?” You turn to Tzuyu, lifting an eyebrow.

“Of course he does,” she says, facing you with that trademark gummy smile. “He thinks you’re cute, if you’re wondering.”

“No, no. I meant—”

“Oh—sorry I misunderstood,” she replies, laughing, blushing with embarrassment. “But he was the one who convinced me to move out. He told me if I don't experience everything for myself, then I’m not living.”

You agree. You’re worlds apart, from completely different backgrounds, different upbringings. And yet, you’ve been brought together by some divine intervention, finding common ground to stand on. 

“So—what did my dad tell you in private?” she asks, her eyes wandering back to the photo, lasering in on her father.

You pause, reluctant to reveal the truth, even if she’ll most likely believe you. “Not much. Just showed me his car collection.”

She grins. Innocent as it may look, she knows that’s not the full truth. “He told you something about me, didn’t he?”

Your heart is racing. For how dependent she is on you, she can be rather intelligent and clever. 

“He definitely told you something. I just know.”

Tzuyu looks around and finds no one in sight. After double checking, she takes you by the wrist, dragging you along. She moves quickly, even through her heels. She takes you up the stairs and into an unexplored room, releasing you forward without care once inside. While you’re staggering and struggling to stay planted on your feet, she shuts the door behind you both and locks it.

There are no cameras in the room to catch you, and the blinds are completely closed off. It’s just you two again. 

“That’s quiet enough.” Tzuyu steadily approaches you with a new demeanor—a straight, serious attitude reminiscent of her father. “I shouldn’t have to ask twice. What did my dad tell you?”

You were going to explain everything without the extra theatrics anyway, but admittedly you’re now feeling more secure to admit in private. Their security cameras can catch strange sights, but not sounds. Hell, maybe the little stunt she pulled could be more suspicious than anything else.

“He told me to look after you. Make you feel not alone,” you say, unable to look her directly in the eye, your gaze wandering left and right. “He also said that you’re in good hands because of me.”

Tzuyu remains silent, only staring right at you as she draws ever closer. She doesn’t know exactly how to react or what to say in light of your confession. You can tell the moment the wind in her sails has been knocked out: when you said love.

“How did he come to that conclusion?” she asks, the gap between you only breaths apart.

“He said that you trust your intuition more than anything,” you reply, tone low but straight, mustering the strength to meet her halfway. “And that you haven’t been smiling like that for so long.”

She furrows her eyebrow, taken aback by the last statement. “Really? He did not—”

“He really did. I’m just telling you everything as I heard it,” you say, grinning through your teeth, laughing. There goes the little tension between you.

“Can he not—” Tzuyu cracks, strutting around you, toward the lone king-sized bed similar to the one in her penthouse. “He literally calls me all the time. Hell, he was calling me the night before our flight. Don’t believe him.”

“I won’t,” you reply, still chuckling. 

Your gaze wanders down her baby blue dress, perfectly fit and tailored for her light frame. The lengthy skirt flows around her legs like water. As is her long hair, a mixture of black and brunette. You don’t have to state the obvious, but you still feel the need to say it: Tzuyu is incredibly pretty. She’s been hearing that from everyone from the moment she was born. No amount of repetition can truly describe how attractive she looks, like this one occasion was designed specifically for her.

“So—he says I trust my intuition more than anything,” she mutters, glancing around the room. The bedroom belongs to none other than Tzuyu herself. It’s the place she grew up in, and she feels nostalgia being inside it after being gone for so long. Her hands brush along the edge of the mattress, deep in thought. “I never really thought of it like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know, to be honest. But he’s right about one thing,” she says, turning around to face you. She’s taking a good look at you from the neck down, and for the first time in your life, you’re dressed like someone worthy of a person like her. “I do love you.”

Before you even have a second to react, everything goes off. She catches your lips with hers. It’s instantaneous. 

Her hands take hold of your body, still unsure of what to do. You know exactly what to do, though, and that’s to give in. You don’t give it a second thought. You yield to her touch and melt into her passionate kiss, pressing deeper and exploring her shapely figure in return. You’re pulling on each other’s clothes and skin, unwilling to let go. 

You can taste the pent-up need on each other’s lips. 

Yeah, you love her too, actually. 

You love her dress too—not only because baby blue perfectly suits Tzuyu like butter on bread, but also because it leaves her back exposed to your touch. She hums, whines into your lips, sucking on air between hungry kisses, taken by surprise of this new sensation. In response, she’s tugging on your dress coat, pushing it off your shoulders and down to the floor. 

“How long have you wanted to tell me that?” you mutter, breaking off the kiss, hot air pressed against her mouth. 

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” she replies, grinning through her sweet lips. 

“I never said I love you though. Like at all.”

“But I can tell by the way you’re kissing me.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. I’ve seen Sana kiss you like this.”

“And? Does that bother you?”

Her grin is turning into a wicked smirk. Slowly but surely.

“Not at all. I’ve been telling you right from the start: it should have been her, not me.”

She shakes her head. “You want me to hurt Dahyun’s feelings by bringing Sana along? You heartless fuck.”

A new can of worms has just been opened up. None of which was ever in the equation till now. You regret stopping such an intimate moment for this conversation.

“It’s either that or you lose me forever,” she says, breaking the brief gap of silence. “And what could hurt you more?”

Nothing. The answer is nothing, but you don’t want to directly admit it. You need Tzuyu. 

So you end up kissing her again, and she graciously returns the love twofold. She needs you just as much. You’re both meant for each other, and this is the sign.

You push her onto the bed, maintaining the connection as you continue to explore each other’s clothed bodies. In any other situation, all your clothes would be scattered everywhere, and even in her childhood home, you’re both more than willing to make the move. It’s dangerous, yes, but that’s what makes it fun and exciting. After all, she said it herself;  if she wasn’t trying, she wasn’t living. 

“Wait.” Tzuyu mumbles against your mouth, gently pushing you off. You’re halfway through pulling the zipper on her back when she suddenly snaps the link in half. You take the hint and clamber off. 

Seeing Tzuyu flat on her back in bed, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, is a sight a thousand pictures worth taking. Your fingers are anxiously waiting, trembling in anticipation on the corner of your pants, ready to flip at the drop of her word. But then—

“Let’s not. I mean, I don’t wanna say it, but this is just a little too fast for my liking,” she says, glancing around her bedroom. It would certainly be a strange feeling to get fucked in her childhood room, among other things. “Plus you know—”

She’s pointing to the locked door behind you. While you both hear nothing at the moment, you never know who’s right around the corner. 

Wistfully, you sigh in despair. She sits up and pats you on the head. 

“Sorry. I want it as much as you do, but not here. I almost let my thoughts get the best of me,” she says regretfully.

“I understand,” you reply, defeated and crestfallen, despite her efforts to comfort you. 

Turning your head back, you find Tzuyu slipping a hand between her dress, fishing for the panties from her legs. She pushes them past her heels and places them beside her on the bed. 

Aware of the consequences of what’s about to happen, she looks at you with an inviting smile.

—————

“Oh—oh fuck—” whines Tzuyu, her thighs spread wide between your hungry, ravenous tongue. She’s lying flat on the floor, giving you full access to her cunt, but with one condition: that her bed is not to be messed with in any capacity. Of course you took her up on that offer without hesitation; it’s the easiest thing in the world to avoid when the space between the door and the mattress is just as long as the steps between the back garden and the mansion. 

And as much as you want to tear through her dress and feel her pale, creamy skin, you still have to meet people looking as fresh as you possibly can. You’re telling yourself this will be a quick affair, an appetizer for what’s to come later in the night.

Except your brain says otherwise.

Your tongue flickers against Tzuyu’s aching core in bursts. Slamming her eyes shut, she whines and whimpers. Her nails dig into the carpet floor, nerves trembling and convulsing with each flat lick and press on her wet cunt. It’s evident in how violent her body reacts that she’s new to this feeling, something she’ll have to get used to. 

Meanwhile, you’re having a feast. You’re lapping away at her dripping pussy, taking every little drop of slick into your mouth, and she’s so generously soaked. Despite her reluctance, you’re pulling her creamy thighs against your face, wanting her to suffocate you—to utterly ruin you. Even at her most vulnerable, she’s still as careful and dainty as ever. A good girl, like her father says. 

You wonder how he’ll look at both of you after this.

“Mm—please, I don’t wanna hurt you—” she mewls, making an effort to resist your push despite the constant surge of pleasure coursing through her body. Her lashes flutter as she struggles to open her eyes.

“I can take it—just give in—” you tell her, your voice muffled into her skin as you hungrily continue to eat her out. “You taste so fucking good.”

Tzuyu eventually folds. Gives in to ecstasy and lets herself go. You’re forcing these deep, whiny bursts from her mouth as you drag your tongue on her clit, satisfying her most sensitive spots. Her cries echo throughout the room, past the large doors. It’s a dangerous place to be caught in, but you’re so close to drawing everything out from her. You don’t regret a single moment. As much as you want to pull out and replace it with your fingers, she tastes too good for your greedy mouth to share. You’re going to drink her for all her worth.

Her voice cracks with every flick you give; her breaths grow frantic. At this point, the pleasure is becoming too much to bear; she can only grip the carpet tile and brace for impact. She’s quivering as your fingers join your tongue in parting her cunt to be taken and used. It sounds sympathetic when she moans a high-pitched cry, declaring, “Gonna cum—fuck!”

It doesn’t deter you in the slightest. Hell, it only encourages you more.

Except you don’t get the pleasure of replying or gloating, because she cums. Hard.

You do, however, earn the gratification of laying your tongue flat on her cunt when her body locks, before violently crashing. Torrential waves of slick gush all over your needy, thirsty tongue. You lap it up—every last drop, even as it spills onto the carpet floor, drenching your face and the area around her crotch. Her moans come out in waning hoarse bursts, trying to keep your little secret as hidden as possible. In reality, it was obvious to anyone with a functioning ear and a respectable distance away. The locked door was a nonfactor.

Despite your reluctance, you slowly pull away from her heavenly core, licking your messy lips clean, saving the remains with your fingers. 

Still, the desire remains. You’re leaving soft kisses down her thighs, watching Tzuyu depleted of strength as the fallout from her orgasm persists. Unable to find the strength to regain her composure, her eyes remain glued shut, her jaw slack, her breaths heavy. Her arms find solace in each other, folded and held close to her stomach, as if in utter pain, when it’s really just your tongue. “Oh God—”

“How does it feel, Tzu?” you say before kissing her smooth skin.

She struggles to breathe, let alone utter a single word. By the way her lips curl into a satisfied smile, you can conclude that she enjoyed every moment. Rolling over to her side, even in this flushed, broken state, her profile looks so beautiful. To think she wakes up like this every single day. 

Suddenly, you hear a loud knock on the door, followed by a prompt call. “Miss Tzuyu—your parents are looking for you.”

The blunt voice instantly springs Tzuyu back to life, immediately ignoring the crash from her climax. “Shit,” she sharply mutters, looking over to the bed where she thinks her panties lie, but are actually in the pocket of your suit jacket. “Do you think they—”

You fire back a mischievous glare, complete with matching playful face. 

This was her idea after all; you were just following along.

—————

Waiting by the same vehicle you arrived in, you’re about to be driven back to her penthouse. The sun setting has begun setting down, and you both have a few days in Taiwan before flying back home. Tzuyu’s with her parents at the front door, giving them one last hug and kiss goodbye.

It’s only a brief exchange. She quickly rejoins you with a quick peck on the cheek. Looking past her are the waves of her family wishing you safe travels.

“What did they say? Where’s the driver?” You ask Tzuyu, curious about the lack of a butler.

Smirking, she jingles a pair of keys in her hand like it's her personalized bell. “We’re not taking this car back.”

“Then what is our car then?”

She presses a button, and your attention is immediately diverted by the roar of a powerful engine. A familiar two-door coupe pulls up directly in front of the entrance.

You face Tzuyu, then to her dad, who simply motions his hand out to the car. She hands over the keys before walking ahead, swinging open one of the butterfly doors. “It’s already rush hour, so unless you wanna be late for our dinner date—”

You immediately rush past her and into the driver’s seat, revving up the engine. “Okay. Get in.”

—————

As the Chou property quickly disappears from the rearview mirror, you glance at Tzuyu, realizing something seems off. 

There’s no emotional goodbye, no formality—just a brief exchange and then you’re sent off, just like that.

“There’s no dinner date right?” you ask her, your attention primarily focused on the winding, curving road ahead. Even with your brief experience behind the wheel of a fast car, this older one in particular requires more skill and direct input. “Surely you didn’t book one on the same day as—”

Tzuyu doesn’t respond, only leaning back on the passenger seat. A cursory glance reveals the curl of her lips as she seemingly falls asleep.

“You’re quite naughty, you know that?” you comment, nudging her elbow, eliciting a laugh out of her. “What happened to the so-called ‘princess’ of the Chou family?”

“You know why I even bothered to come home, right?” she replies, opening her eyes and staring directly into you. “I don’t miss it that much.”

You can only chuckle in response. 

“And yes—we don’t have a dinner date if you’re wondering,” she adds, her cheeky grin shifting into a coy, taunting smirk. “Really smart of you to realize that I wanted to leave before we are forced to stay overnight, or even worse.”

“I’ve spent better days in worse.”

She lowers her eyebrows. “Seriously—” she says, before immediately hesitating, thinking of another way to prove her point, when suddenly, “You should be thankful they didn’t notice the panties in your pocket.”

“And you should be thankful they didn’t notice the screams coming from the bedroom,” you retort.

“I was trying to hold back, dipshit.”

“That was you holding back?” You laugh hard at her half-hearted attempt of an excuse, seeing as you have a front row seat at how she crumbled. “Then what about when I fucking ate you out and you were cumming all over me? What was that?”

“You’re no better; what about those mumbles I hear at night, huh?” she says, tone hostile, altering her voice to mock yours as she continues, “Why do I sometimes hear my name in your room, huh? ‘Fuck—Tzuyu—you’re so tight Tzuyu—I’m gonna cum Tzuyu—’ Huh? What was that? You degenerate.”

“It’s none of your business, Tzuyu.”

“Maybe dad was right—I should have just had my own apartment!”

The car accelerates, its roar the loudest thing for miles. You’re blitzing through the freeway, speed cameras and fines be damned. Had conversation happened minutes earlier, when you were climbing down the mountains, neither of you would be talking right now.

“You don’t believe that.”

“You’re right—I don’t!” Tzuyu shouts before looking away. She doesn’t care anymore.

You stop twisting the knife, refocusing your priority on not intentionally driving the car into a lamppost this late into your journey. 

So when you finally arrive at her apartment complex, neither of you hop out immediately. There’s a valet waiting in the wings to take over, but you’re not letting the world move on until you come to some form of compromise. 

“Fine. I’m sorry Tzu. I just thought you didn’t like your parents that much—”

“I don’t,” she interjects, facing you again, her features cold and stern. Again, much like her father. “I’m just glad we got all that behind us without any issues.”

“And what about the whole ‘you heard me jerking off to you’ thing?”

“Still gross. If you weren’t helping me in my studies, I wouldn’t have asked for your help had I known sooner. Pervert.”

“Ouch.” 

It’s more of a mock than a devastating admission to your character.

“Too late for that, though, sadly,” she says, sighing, both half-joking and half-serious. “Look, let’s just get this over with and pretend after that this never happened.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I’m so tired, I just wanna lie down and forget about all this.”

Neither of you realize you can be heard by the waiting valet driver. He doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“Are we really just gonna gloss over this issue—”

“It’s a non-issue. We didn’t get caught, you’re just being a dude. I know. I’ve been with worse guys. Now let’s go.”

—————

Despite her request, it's not as easy as it sounds. The touching, the kissing, the passion—it’s as real as real gets. 

The same can be said about Tzuyu; behind the callousness and seeming apathy is a pent-up need and genuine desire.

You both emerge from the elevator already on each other’s bodies, wrestling for control, your suit jacket already on the metal floor. Her nails leave sharp, scathing marks on your skin, measuring you up. She’s loosening up the buttons on your shirt as you pin her against a wall, then lead her into one of the five bedrooms. As much as you want to break loose, she has you bound by the neck, making sure your lips never leave hers. 

“So this is why you don’t want to hurt me,” you mutter, breath hot against hers, pressing a finger on your freshly clawed neck. 

“Sorry,” Is all that she can say, and in your eyes, that’s more than enough.

“First kiss, first sex, and first argument all in one day. We’re really moving fast as a couple, huh?”

Tzuyu giggles. “I guess we’re a match made in heaven after all.”

Soon you’re back to making out, fueled by the need for each other’s lips. Despite your bodies crashing onto the bed, you’re still madly kissing each other. Running down the last of your buttons, she pops your shirt open in half, which you slip off. Pulling her back to your level, you kiss down her chin and suck on her neck, releasing a soft, airy whine from her delicate lips. She tilts her head up, opening more of her porcelain skin for the taking. 

Every part of Tzuyu tastes perfect.

Meanwhile, your hands take lease of her back, roaming the exposed parts of her dress. Dabbling with the fabric, you finally pull on the zipper, the garment loosening, freeing, the feeling liberating. For the most part, Tzuyu has always been conservative, even in her most formal outfits. A slit in her dress for a leg at best. Beneath lies some white lace and matching panties, her crop top revealing more tummy than you’ve ever anticipated. 

You’re getting more than what you’ve bargained for, and her figure is so mouthwatering.

With the top half of her dress bundled on her waist, you throw her back down on the mattress, biting on her collarbones. She’s panting, breaths frantic, her hands wrapped around your back, her muscles jolting with every little kiss. Raising a leg close to your hip, she’s softly muttering sweet nothings, whispering, eventually revealing what’s really on her mind. ‘I want you’— she mumbles, her dainty tone making your pulse race, tilting her head to the side to let you conquer more of her lithe body, which you happily do.

It’s been a long day. You could honestly stay in this position forever—your limbs twisting and tangling in a messy harmony, your bodies pressed together, finding solace and comfort in each other’s warmth. 

Tzuyu squirms beneath, lightly pushing you away. Taking the hint, you relent. Lo and behold, half her neck and collarbones are swollen red, your handiwork. While she gathers much needed air for her lungs, you use this brief moment of respite to slip the remainder of her dress down her slender legs before tossing the garment aside to be forgotten. Your trousers end up joining them on the floor shortly after.

Even in this vulnerable state, Tzuyu looks so breathtakingly beautiful. Her perfect side is always on display, no matter what angle.

“Tell me what you want baby,” you whisper on her skin, leaving soft, more delicate kisses on them. Knowing how fragile she is, you’re making sure you don’t flatten her whenever you go down on her.

“I just want you,” she whines, her eyes slammed shut and body writhing, even without any contact. She’s already trembling at the mere thought of you. 

“Be more specific, Tzu,” you command her gently. Sliding down your boxers, your aching cock can finally breathe from its constraints. You press a finger on her panties, and even through them, you can tell she’s soaked. Still, as much as you want to undo them, you want her to do the honors. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want your cock,” she replies, tossing and turning left and right. So wanton, so desperate. She slides down her panties for access, prompting you to hover above her. “Give it to me. I’ve wanted you to fuck me me for so long.”

“How long?” You toy with her, positioning your cock directly between her entrance, the tip lining against her dripping slit. 

“Since earlier,” she whines, feeling the tease, the slow burn, the knife being twisted in her gut. She can’t do anything about it. “Please—just put it in, already.”

The smirk on your lips can’t grow any wider. “I don’t believe you. How long have you really wanted this?”

Tzuyu moans, moans, and moans, much to your delight. Despite her efforts to suppress herself, she inevitably folds. “I don’t care—just fuck me already, will you? I’ve touched myself listening to you. Is that what you wanna hear? I don’t care anymore—just—stick that thing inside me already!”

You didn’t think she would spill the beans this easily. Her wantonness and impatience—it speaks volumes. It’s arousing, makes your ears perk in excitement. A win is a win, after all.

Grabbing her waist, you slide your cock into her entrance—painstakingly slow, slowly setting yourself on fire. Even the slightest flex and push against your shaft could break you in half. Holding your breath, every moment growing more tense as she envelops you in her suffocating warmth. It doesn’t help that her legs clench around your hips, binding you with her for good.

There’s only one way this could end.

“Oh fuck—” you groan, slamming your eyes shut as your cock buries deep in her sopping cunt. An echoed cry rips through the vast room, a fine blend between your voices. She feels so good, so tight, so invitingly hot. Finding some semblance of control proves to be a challenge as her pussy convulses around your cock. The look in her eyes when they flutter open, her jaw slack, her brows shifting, the moan escaping her lips—it’s better than anything your imagination can project.

You draw your hips back, against the constricting hold Tzuyu has on you—both physically and mentally. Her hands are all over you—gripped on your nape, on your skull, roaming your back. She’s holding on you so tight; she needs you more than oxygen right now. 

Slowly but surely, you push back in, pumping her cunt in deliberate, purpose filled strokes. She moans, reduced to merely a string of profanity-laced bursts. Pressing your temple against hers, you admire how undeniably pretty she looks, even when you have her pinned like this. It goes without saying that Tzuyu is an absolute beauty, a goddess made human, and how fortunate you are to sully and defile her. 

It’s the perfect sight for sore eyes, an idyllic escape from the fiery sensation in your stomach.

“So—so gorgeous, Tzu—” you mutter, leaving a chaste peck on the tip of her nose, your moans going back and forth, perfectly paced with your hips rocking against hers. You’ve never felt this uniform, this perfect together. “So fucking wet—and tight—”

She’s far too engrossed in pleasure to move, let alone say a word. You can feel the kick from her thighs, their coil around your waist, demanding more. Faster. Harder. Without the need to vocalize them. As comfortable as you are, your primal instincts are encouraging you, pushing you to take her the way she should be used. 

“I’m gonna fuck you hard now,” you tell her as courtesy, moving through with the deed regardless of her response. She nods. Whether it’s from the persistent quake of the bed or a voluntary act, it doesn’t matter. You’re only focused on drawing out the most ecstasy in fucking her.

The fuse has already been lit the moment you first entered her; you’re just accelerating the countdown.

“Yes—fucking—oh my fucking—” you groan, the piston of your hips moving quicker and quicker with each thrust. The way her pussy quivers and flexes around your cock is so devastating, it’s burning through your skin. Your mind is in utter disarray, unable to fully comprehend the tightness consuming you. It’s going to pull you further and further down without a way to escape. You can only drag Tzuyu down too.

You’re crushing her, smothering her in your desperate attempt to stay in control. She’s doing everything in her power to shatter you, and it’s messing you up. She continues to moan in broken, jumbled tones, pulling you close to her with each pump, meeting halfway in a rhythm that hits the spot. 

“Just like that—just like that—mm—” Tzuyu keens. How she can make even the littlest words sound so saccharine and sincere is beyond you. The way she takes your relentless pounding is a feat worth admiring. It’s the least of your concerns right now, especially when she continues to lead you further to your collapse. “Almost there—just keep fucking me.”

As if you had any other thought or option. That, or pulling down the strap of her skimpy crop top, exposing a breast, watching it ripple. 

Her hair tangled around your waist, you keep fucking away. Stopping is the last thing you’d ever want to do, especially since you’re close too. The friction between your skin and hers is growing too unbearable, and yet the satisfying ripple of flesh slapping flesh supersedes that. There’s nothing sinful in what you’re doing, only something right.

“Please baby—never stop—stretching me out like this—” she mewls, her nails digging deep into your back, tilting your face and leading you into a passionate kiss. “Cumming for you—oh shit—”

Tzuyu clenches, kissing into you harder as her body comes undone from head to toe. Every nerve, every muscle going limp as she cums. She moans directly into your skin, freezing, her legs and arms coiled around your body as a wave of her slick spills all around your hard cock, landing on the sheets.  

It’s the perfect time to get dragged by her wave of pleasure. You weren’t going to last any longer at this rate. “Tzu—” is the only thing that you manage to utter, before it completely falls apart. 

Against the last of your resolve, your grip gradually loosens. Straining your hips, you thrust forward a handful of times, each one more and more agonizing till you finally reach the boiling point. Your cock throbs violently as you pump deep in her pussy, even as her legs collapse on the bed, because anything else would be a disservice to her unspoken demand. You’re groaning raspily against her ear, holding onto her even though she can’t move. 

You fill her. Releasing every pent-up need and tension, your bodies go numb together. Her cunt squeezes every last drop of cum out of you. Tzuyu won’t settle for less. You’re repeating her name as your orgasm persists, the agony of blasting streak after streak seemingly unending. Your hips continue to fuck the cum deep into her pussy, gradually slowling by the second until you come to a full stop.

In the end, the only thing that remains are your labored breaths. 

You clamp down on her collarbone before your consciousness eventually drifts away. This is the position you end up in for the rest of the night: you slumped over Tzuyu, arms wrapped over each other, drenched in sweat and sex. 

At least she has the warmest blanket to cover her from the cold.

—————

As morning comes, you’ve spent more time inside Tzuyu than anywhere else—as it should be. 

“You sure you don’t wanna go anywhere?” she asks, showing you her phone with a picture of a hot spring, one of many in the country. “We could use it before going back.”

“I’m good,” you say, looking up at Tzuyu, her lithe figure leisurely bouncing on your lap, eliciting these soft, airy moans out of you between thrusts. You’ve been mindlessly admiring her perfect body, your hands roaming at her waist, to her chest, then her ass, finally back to her waist again. “Maybe if you want, just go yourself. I just wanna sleep.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy” she replies, tilting her head down to meet you eye-to-eye. “After what we’ve done, you just wanna sit back? You’re really a pervert, you know that?”

“Still calling me that? After I fucked your brains out?”

“Just because you fucked me so well doesn’t change anything before that, pervert.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!”

Tzuyu places the phone on the end table before brushing your hair. She has this contemptuous look, her frustration bubbling to the surface. If she were any less patient, she could probably end you in an instant—

Except you both laugh, breaking the so-called tense silence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m also tired too,” she remarks, finding purchase of your face, then your chest. She stops grinding on you to lay on your head instead. “We could spend the whole day here, just ordering delivery. I wouldn’t mind.”

As entertaining of an idea as it sounds, the initial proposition gradually sinks in. You imagine the scene: a hot spring. Being one with nature. Some much needed relief for your muscles. More importantly, another excuse to see Tzuyu naked, even though she’s in nothing but a short robe right now. 

Better yet, there’s a shower you can take her in, but she’s worn you out to the point of hardly moving.

“Tzu?” you mumble, caressing her covered back, cuddling her.

“Yeah?”

“I changed my mind. Let’s go to the hot springs.”

Even without looking, you can feel her annoyance. You can already envision the scorn on her features. She realizes she has made a huge mistake. 

This is only the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

“You’re the worst boyfriend.”

“Worst? I thought we were just pretending.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.” 

—————

(A/N: Was thoroughly surprised Tzuyu was the third Twice member to get her solo! Came out of nowhere, fun little title track. Giving me early Sunmi/2nd gen vibes. Didn't really think much of her but the styling for the promos really caught me by the throat. Also shoutout to ddeun for writing and posting an earlier fic with a similar premise and concept as this one (OC x idol meeting the parents), especially as it features best girl Yena. Thank you for reading!)

[nickfowlerrr]

right where i need you

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. established relationship. fluff. unprotected sex in the kitchen - sorry not sorry. and not much else, really! if i’m forgetting something pls lmk.

words: 2.3k

notes: i haven’t stopped thinking about him in that damn white tank since i first saw it and honestly i don’t know if i ever will. here’s just some random smut for you, inspired ofc by said white tank, please enjoy. thank you in advance for reading and as always - reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated! let me know what you think. 🩵

You can’t be held responsible for this.

It’s really not your fault.

He’s the one looking so…him.

It took one little look. And now here you are.

You’re not complaining! But when your phone starts ringing with texts in about fifteen minutes asking where you are and why you’re late, well… you can deal with that later.

You had padded down the hall, hair and makeup done and dress unzipped with your heels in your hand.

Did you really need his help to zip it up? No. But you can’t pass up the opportunity to feel his hands on you, even for a second.

He got home not too long ago so you know where you’ll find him, but he hasn’t come into the room to say hello, so you’re not exactly sure how you’ll find him.

You started considering skipping out on girls night the second you heard him come in without his usual greeting, and that is still definitely on the table. You haven’t been seeing him as often as either of you would like lately, and as much as you love your friends, you had brunch together last weekend, it’s not like it’s been ages… They wouldn’t be too upset, you’re sure.

You decided you’d make up your mind when you saw Bucky.

You find him exactly where you knew you would. He stands at the kitchen counter, his hair mussed, shirt discarded as he’s clad in his black pants and white under tank. He’s hunched over a bit and yet he still looks so big.

You smile wearily as you assess him from behind. He seems tense and tired and you can easily guess why. He’s been working nonstop for the past two weeks, you know he’s exhausted.

You walk closer to him and he turns to face you as you near his back.

He may be exhausted but damn he always manages to still look good. You’re almost envious of his natural allure.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets with a rumble as you reach out to touch him, your hand on his side as you step closer to him. His own find your waist as he pulls you in to hug you. “You look beautiful as ever,” he murmurs softly, holding you tighter than you’d expected.

“Hi, baby,” you ease back. It’s not a pet name you use often, but it slips so easily from your tongue as he holds you and you hug him back.

“Thought you woulda been gone already,” he says as you pull back from him, your eyes meeting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Not yet,” you say, “can you zip me?”

He smiles at you and you turn around, allowing him access to the zipper. He keeps a hand on your hip as he slowly works the zipper up the dress, taking his sweet time. Once he’s got it, he runs his big hand down your back and then settles it on your other hip, giving you a squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, turning to face him once more, “So,” you broach, “how was your day?”

“Ah, we don’t need to talk about that right now,” he tries to brush off.

“Bucky,” you start to admonish before he interrupts you.

“Have I seen this dress before?” He asks as his hands wander along the fabric, his eyes following your every curve.

You sigh, letting it go for now, “No, it’s new.”

“Looks good on you,” he compliments.

“Thank you,” you smile with a titter.

He blinks at you, his eyes swimming with something you aren’t sure you can name as his big hands find your bottom.

“I’ve missed you so much, you know that?”

You nod, softening as you step closer to him, “I’ve been missing you, too.”

He gives your ass as squeeze as you lean into him and you don’t even realize you’re doing it as you let your gaze wander down his sturdy chest to where his tank top is still tucked into his pants. He’s so built and so big, you’re damn near obsessed. And God, you really have been missing him.

His warmth, his touch, his everything.

You only realize you were biting your lip as his thumb comes up to pull it from your teeth. And you only realize your hand has been drifting down his thick, strong torso when you brush the top of his pants.

You meet his eye and you need no other warning of what’s about to come as you see the longing there.

His hand is holding your face as he licks his lips without thought. His eyes drift from yours to your lips and then all at once he’s on you.

His kiss is fervent and hot as he leads you. You let him turn you as you’re entirely enraptured in his kiss. You don’t recognize the counter at your backside as you kiss him back until he lifts you up without warning. His strength is always so impressive to you as you yip and reach to hold onto him despite the fact you’re already sitting safely by the time you do.

Your legs spread enough to welcome him as he stands between them, your dress already ridden up your thick thighs. His kisses are incessant as he holds you, his hands and lips both wandering what belongs to him.

Your hands are in his thick, dark hair as he attacks your neck and you can’t help the moan that slips past your lips. You can feel his smile against your skin as he hears it, like music to his ears.

You pull him closer with your leg around him as he pushes up the material of your dress until it’s around your waist. His hands move higher and once he finds the top of your dress, he pulls it down too, taking your strapless bra with it. He unhooks it easily and tosses it aside while avoiding unzipping the dress for you.

His mouth is on your full breasts the moment he exposes them; licking, nipping, sucking at your nipples while your back arches and you moan at the feeling.

“Buck,” you eke out your plea, tugging at him.

He doesn’t stop but his hands do move down to undo his pants. He pulls away after a second and pushes them down enough to free his stiff cock. He pulls you closer to him and then drags your silky panties down, tossing them with your bra before he situates himself back between your spread legs.

The feeling of his hand on your bare thigh is enough to set you on fire. He squeezes the ample softness there as he feels you, letting his hand slide up your leg to hold your hip.

You’re definitely gonna be late now, but it really isn’t your fault. They can’t blame you. And even if they could, you don’t think you’d really care.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel his cock head at your entrance.

“So wet,” he murmurs as he drags himself up and down your slit teasingly, earning a whimper from you. “I know, baby,” he chuckles, looking up to meet your puppy dog eyes, “I know. I’m gonna give it to ya, know exactly what you need, sweetheart,” he says, his words smooth as silk as he talks huskily.

He guides himself back to your slick entrance and right before he starts to push into you, he makes sure your eyes are on him, and of course they are.

You hold eye contact as he slowly moves into you, your lips parting on a gasp the deeper he goes. Your hands are messed in his hair again as your walls involuntarily squeeze his length inside of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You pull him closer, angling yourself to kiss him again as he slides the rest of the way into your tight pussy. He kisses you back just as fervently as before as he starts to pull out of you before thrusting right back in. His thick cock dragging perfectly along your tight walls as he fucks you. His hand tightens on your hip as you squeeze him again, his eyes squeezing shut as he moans in turn, but his pace never faltering.

You wrap your arms around his neck and press yourself to him as he holds your waist. His cock hitting deeper with his every thrust. You’re already on the brink of your orgasm as you bury your face in his neck, breathing him in as he fucks you in perfect time. His grunts and groans and moans fill your ears as your own spur him on.

“Missed you so fucking much,” he pants as he squeezes you again. You kiss his stubbled jaw, arching into him, “Missed you,” you mewl. You suddenly feel his thumb on your clit and you gasp out your moan.

“Bucky,” you cry, hands gripping his solid back.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he husks, “come on. Let go, baby. Come for me. Need to feel you come around my cock,” he grits, working your clit in tight circles as you clench around him, eyes squeezing shut and arms holding him ever tighter. “Need to feel you,” he begs a little quieter, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You can’t hold back any longer as his cock hits that special spot inside you once again while his thumb is ceaseless on your sensitive clit. Your face is in his neck as you quake against him, coming hard. Your body feels alight and electric, sparks of unadulterated pleasure shooting through you as you shudder and moan at the overwhelming feeling. Waves of ecstasy washing over you as you moan and whine in Bucky’s ear.

He doesn’t relent as he works you through your high and pushes himself closer to his own, praises for you and groans of his own pleasure sounding from him as he fucks you, making sure you feel every inch of him, his hands gripping your ass as he keeps you close.

Your walls pulsing around his length have him growling as he teeters on the edge of his orgasm, but it’s your soft moan in his ear as you hold onto him that really pushes him over the edge. You sound so pleased, so satisfied and debauched and it’s all because of him. It’s all for him.

You gasp as he comes inside you, curses of pleasure and your name on his tongue, his hot cum filling you up as he slows his thrusts. You feel his lips on your temple and then your cheek as he kisses you gently while he comes down. Your walls still squeezing him softly as you do the same until he finally pulls out of you, tucking himself away.

You hold his face in your hands, admiring him for a moment before you pull him closer for a kiss. He still stands between your legs as he lets you pull him further into you before you finally let him go.

“I’ve really missed you,” you murmur. “I know you’re off all next month, and we’ll be around each other, be able to make up for lost time,” you smirk coyly, “but,” you breathe, “still, I kinda just wanna stay here with you tonight.“

“Yeah?” he asks with a half smile, “what about girl’s night?”

“They’ll survive without me.”

“You really don’t have to cancel your plans for me, sweetheart,” he assures you, that look in his eye telling you more than his words. He doesn’t think you mean it, doesn’t want to seem like he wants you to stay just as badly as you want to… “I think I need some alone time, anyway,” he adds - now avoiding your eye as he speaks, and only fueling your previous suspicions as he fixes the top of your dress, taking a second before he wraps his arms around you. You let your own slide around his neck as he rests his head on your chest.

“I don’t think I believe you,” you reply easily with a kiss to his hair before you urge him back and get off the counter.

He watches you as you turn around, your back to him. “Unzip me?”

He does as you ask, after a few seconds.

You shimmy the dress off and don’t look back to him as you go for your phone set on the opposite counter. You shoot your friends a text letting them know not to expect you tonight as you feel Bucky at your back.

“You don’t have to stay for me,” he says again, even softer now.

You turn to face him, meeting his eye, “Tell me you want me to leave, and I will,” you say.

He bites his lip as he watches you intently, shaking his head a bit before he speaks, “I can’t.”

“Didn’t think so,” you smile triumphantly.

You take his hand in yours and pull him out of the kitchen, down the hall to your shared bedroom. He follows with no complaint.

“You shower, I’ll clean myself up a bit, then cuddles and talking, and then… round two?”

“And three,” he agrees, pulling your naked body against his still clothed one before he kisses you again. “And dinner somewhere in between.”

“Sounds good,” you smile against his lips. “The usual?”

He nods, “I’ll call it in when we get outta the shower.”

“We?” you quirk a brow, noticing the twinkle of mischief in his bright blue eyes just a moment too late.

You yelp as he picks you up effortlessly in his inhumanly strong arms, his mirthful chuckle sending butterflies alight in your belly as he smiles that charming smile at you.

“We,” he confirms, walking you both into the bathroom, with no complaint from you as you relax in his hold.

God, have you missed this.

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 ; 𝘭𝘩43 ୨୧

➪ summary: y/n breaks her foot and is left alone in the hospital with no one to come pick her up, until she remembers her boyfriend's mom

➪ warnings: broken foot, hospitals

➪ word count: 2.0k

➪ file type: new fic

➪ sunny's notes: i legit remember getting this request back in february and i cannot believe i finally wrote it. i hope whoever sent this request for my valentine's day event found their way back to my blog and can read this. i feel so bad but i'm so happy i was able to write it and i hope whoever you are will enjoy it

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

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This is not how she envisioned her weekend to be like, cooped up in a hospital room with no one to talk to and nothing to do. She had no one to be with her as the doctor told her that her leg was broken, no one to help her home when she was finally able to be discharged, and no one to help take care of her. This truly had happened at the worst time. 

She fell down the stairs many times but never had this happened. She had never had a broken limb, let alone gone to the hospital for it. Usually, she just had a headache or a little soreness in the aftermath and once she woke up from a nap or took some pain medication she would be good as new.

Her parents were out of state at a conference for work and they couldn’t get a flight out until the weekend, though she didn’t even want to tell them this happened in the first place. Most of her friends were gone for spring break, probably with their own families. And Luke was still in Jersey playing hockey, which left her alone. She wasn’t even sure how she could get out of bed without the help of a nurse. 

She spent the past couple of days just watching whatever was on TV and scrolling through TikTok or Instagram, answering the occasional text from her parents asking about how she was doing. A nurse would come in every once in a while and ask the same question and three times a day she would be asked what she wanted to eat. If she was lucky, one of the nurses would bring her ice cream late at night. 

And today was the day the doctor came in and told her she was able to be discharged. After making sure everything was ready, she finally heard the dreaded question, “Who’s going to be taking you home?”

She stared at the doctor for a few minutes before shrugging, “Um, my parents are away for work and my friends are all home for spring break.”

The doctor nodded and then she spoke, “Boyfriend? Cousins? Aunts or Uncles?”

“Boyfriend is in Jersey for work, cousins all live in Texas along with all my aunts and uncles. So-” She hesitated, “I might have an idea.”

She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought about calling her before, it was a good idea. However, y/n was still nervous about doing it. She was nervous that she would be interrupting whatever the older woman might be doing or if she would even take the time to come up here to get her. She thought they were on good terms, and what was the worst that could happen? She had already been here for a few days, what’s the harm in two more until her parents could make it back?

She hit the contact on her phone and then held it up to her ear, listening to the ringing that came from the speakers. Finally, the woman on the other line answered, “Hello?”

“Mrs. Hughes! It’s y/n!”

“Oh hi sweetheart, how’s it going?”

“Well, it could be better if I’m honest.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Ellen sat on her couch, waiting for her son’s girlfriend to respond. 

“I’m sort of, maybe, kind of, most definitely in the hospital.”

“You’re what?”

“Okay, it doesn’t sound as bad as it seems. I just fell down the stairs.”

Ellen sighed, she felt as if she was dealing with one of her sons at that moment, “You fell down the stairs and did what?”

Y/n’s words came out mumbled, now feeling extremely embarrassed by what had happened. The woman frowned and asked her to repeat her words, “I broke my foot.”

“Oh my… when did this happen, y/n?”

“A few days ago.” She looked down and started to pick at the thin blanket that lay across her lap. 

“And have you told anyone about this?”

“Well I told my parents but they’re in California for a work thing so they can’t be home until this weekend. And all of my friends are gone for spring break and well, Luke’s in Jersey so…”

“You know he would drop everything to come to you, right?”

“Yeah, I just wanted him to focus on hockey. But that’s why I called you. I was wondering if you could help me get back to my dorm?”

“Yeah of course, Just give me an hour or two okay?”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Hughes.”

And then y/n just sat there, waiting for Ellen to arrive so she could finally go home and be in the comfort of her dorm and bed. She talked to the doctor briefly, explaining that someone would be able to pick her up in the next couple of hours and that she’d be out of their hair. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Y/n was finally asleep, curled up in the guest room at the Hughes’ house. After Ellen arrived to take her home, she argued with the girl to get her to stay at their house. It took a lot of convincing and one look from the woman until she agreed. She didn’t want her to feel obligated to take care of her, but Ellen was more than happy too. 

With some decent food and some medicine, she fell asleep quickly while watching one of Luke’s games she hadn’t been able to watch. She missed him, she wanted nothing more than for him to be by her side and take care of her but she knew he had a job to do so she didn’t want to distract him from it. 

Once she fell asleep, Ellen took this as her chance to call her son and tell him what happened, she knew y/n wouldn’t so she would. It took a few rings but Luke finally answered with sleep lacing his voice, “Hm? Mom?”

“Hey, Luke.”

“What’s up?” Luke turned over in his bed, wrapping his comforter around him as he did so. He kept his eyes closed and pushed his head deeper into his pillow.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“It’s about y/n.” He sat up quickly, immediately wincing at the sudden dizziness he felt. 

“What’s wrong?”

“She fell down the stairs again.”

He snorted, “Shocker.”

“And she broke her foot.”

“She what?” Now he was standing in the middle of his room, sweatpants hung low on his hips with no shirt on as he ran his free hand through his hair, “Is she okay? Where is she? Did she go to the hospital?”

“She’s fine, Luke. She’s here at the house, her parents wouldn’t be able to get here until the weekend and I didn’t want her staying in her dorm by herself. And yes she went to the hospital.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“She’s sleeping right now. I can probably say that this is the best sleep she’s gotten in the past few days so I don’t want to wake her. I also knew that she wouldn’t tell you which is why I called.”

Luke frowned before speaking, “I’ll be there soon.”

“Luke…”

“Nope, I’m not budging on this. I’ll be down there probably by late tonight or early tomorrow morning. I’ll text you when I land. Bye, mom.” 

With that, Ellen was left shocked standing in her kitchen. She had expected Luke to freak out, but she didn’t expect him to drop everything to come here. Well, maybe she had and that’s why she called him. She knew y/n needed him, especially when this had happened. 

A few hours later she could hear thuds from the guest room and immediately made her way up the stairs, hoping y/n hadn’t tried to get out of bed. When she walked in she was relieved to see her sitting on the bed, glaring at the floor. She quirked an eyebrow, “Everything okay?”

“I dropped the remote.”

Ellen chuckled at her, making her way over to where the remote sat. She picked it up and handed it to her before moving to walk towards the hallway again.

“Mrs. Hughes?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Would- would you stay with me, please? I haven’t really talked to anyone-”

“I would be happy to.” Ellen took the space next to her, watching as y/n continued to scroll through Netflix to find something to watch. 

It wasn’t long before the girl fell asleep again, the woman chuckling softly before she carefully got off the bed and walked back downstairs. She looked at her phone, noticing a text from Luke that he was on his way from the airport. Ellen sighed before finishing doing last-minute things around the house, including making some dinner for both Luke and y/n. 

Luke showed up about an hour later, pulling into the driveway. He practically ran through the doors, looking around frantically for his girlfriend or his mom. His eyes finally landed on his mom who was in the kitchen making dinner, “Mom!”

She turned around, “Hi, Luke. She’s in the guest room, but be careful, she’s still sleeping.”

“Okay, thank you for taking her here.”

Her eyes softened, “Of course.” She watched as he ran up the stairs as quietly as he could and smiled.

Meanwhile, Luke knocked softly on the guest room door and after a few seconds, he walked in. His frown seemed to deepen when his eyes laid upon the cast that was on her foot. He sighed and walked over to the bed, kneeling so his face was in front of hers.

He brushed a strand of hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear as he smiled. The movement startled her softly, causing her eyes to flutter open. She blinked at the person in front of her confusedly, not sure why there was a stranger in her room. Once her eyes adjusted, they went wide with surprise, “Luke?”

“Hi, sweet girl.”

“What- What’re you doing here?”

He brushed his thumb over her cheek before helping her sit up against the headboard. He took his spot on the side of her legs, sitting sideways on the bed. His hand rested on her calf, slowly moving it up and down to provide comfort, “Mom called me.”

“Oh, I told her not to.”

“She told me that too.”

Y/n threw her head back against the headboard, sighing, “Didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Interrupt me? Baby, you were sitting in the hospital for two days with no one to call or take care of you. You don’t have to worry about interrupting me, especially with something like that.”

She nodded, biting her lip out of habit. He rolled his eyes and reached out to tug it away from her teeth, “You know I hate when you do that.”

“Yeah yeah.” 

Luke chuckled softly, his thumb lingering on her lips briefly before dropping his hand back to her leg. "I mean it," he said gently. "You never have to feel like you're bothering me."

Y/n sighed again, though there was a hint of relief in it this time. "I just didn't want to make a big deal. It’s not like I broke anything important."

"Not important?" Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with her attempt at brushing it off. "You broke your foot, y/n. That’s pretty important."

"Well, yeah, but it’s not like I can’t—"

"Stop," he interrupted, his voice firm yet still soft. "Stop pretending like you don’t matter." He squeezed her calf gently, drawing her attention back to him. "You matter to me. Everything about you matters to me. And if you’re hurt, I’m gonna be here. Every time. Got it?" 

Her eyes softened as she looked at him, feeling the weight of his words settle around her. “Got it,” she whispered, the edge of her lip quirking into a smile.

He smiled back, "Good." After a minute, he stood up. "Now, what do you need? Water? Food? Pain meds?"

"I’m okay," she replied, watching him carefully. "Just…stay?"

His face softened even more at her request. Without a word, he sat back down, this time pulling her carefully into his arms, mindful of her injured foot. Y/n rested her head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat easing her lingering discomfort. Luke kissed the top of her head softly and let out a content sigh.

“Always,” he whispered into her hair.

𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗝𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43 @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman @this-ass-is-eikonic @delilahhcky

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[tteotlma]

Missed Every Inch

Older Bf!Logan x Reader (3.2kw)

a/n: got this idea based off this post ^ bc i’ve been thinking a lot abt old man logan lately.. so enjoy 3k words of pure smut.

tw: 18+ MDNI, explicit sexual content, overstimulation, rough sex, light degradation/teasing, power dynamics, breeding, kink/multiple orgasms, slightly aggressive behavior (e.g. tearing clothing), cockwarming, heavy on missionary, p in v, pw/op

—

Alternatively, older bf!logan doing the whole “fuck, I missed you” thing when he slides inside you after not being able to for a whole two weeks.

How he ever let that happen he doesn’t know, schedules became hectic, nights became short, and fourteen days later he’s as riled up as a bull seeing red — well not exactly but either way Logan is not about to let this continue any longer.

Sure the both of you had small moments here and there, like your shared morning showers, warm embraces and passionate kisses at the door before either of you left for the day, video calls during lunches that usually ended with Logan teasing you about giving him something to keep him going and you complying by quickly flashing the camera. Giggling shyly when Logan would let out a whistle. And all would be great until you hang up, or leave his sight and he remembers how long it’s been since he’s really felt your true warmth. God the more he thinks about it, the more he’s gonna blow his load right in his plaid pajama pants.

He paces back and forth shirtless in your shared bedroom. He’s been home alone for three hours now, and you messaged him thirty minutes ago saying you were on your way home meaning you should be walking through the front door any second.

He has one hand stroking his chin and the other hand low on his hip trying to decide if he should be nonchalant or just say to hell with it and jump you as soon as you walk in the door.

He hears the door to your shared apartment open, and he jumps out of his skin. He’s acting so out of character but — he’s really desperate. He says to hell with it and he swings open the bedroom door only to run right into you.

“Hi,” You look up at him, with a small smile.

Logan looks at you for a brief moment before he breaks and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in and using the other hand to cradle the back of your head. He pulls you in for a heated kiss, the kind that ignites the heat in your chest that slowly spreads to the tips of your fingers.

You become pliant in his arms, letting your weight and balance rely solely on Logan as he continues to move his lips against yours. He pulls away for a second allowing you a chance to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer.

A long moan leaves your lips as he slowly drags his tongue along the inside of your mouth. He gives your tongue a slow and gentle suck before he pulls away.

“Hey baby,” He says, a smug look on his face. He wraps both arms around your waist, hands resting on the swell of your ass as he starts to walk the both of you back into the bedroom.

”What’s gotten into you?” You ask, as he begins to nose at your temple.

“I’m just glad you’re home now.” He says trailing kisses from your temple to your neck. Your hand snakes from around the back of his neck, and slowly trails down before stopping on his bare chest. Your palm catches the faint beating of Logan’s heart rapid, and pulsing.

“Did I make you wait long?” You ask, tilting your head back, a soft sigh leaves your lips as he places tender kisses along the sensitive parts of your neck.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he grabs your hand on his chest, and drags it further down, the heat radiating off his body practically scolding your hand. He brings your hand down his front all the way down to the bulge in his pants.

“You tell me.” He teases, pulling back to look down at you. With one hand still around his neck, keeping him close you take his dick in the other and fondle the man through the thin fabric of his pants.

“Aw,” You coo, “Did I make the poor baby wait too long.” You teased, the motions of your hand unrelenting. A shuddering breath leaves your boyfriend’s lips as his hips buck as much as he tries to hold back.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Logan hooks his hands below the curve of your ass and quickly lifts you off your feet. He swiftly spins you around and tosses you on the bed. “None of that tonight.” He says, grabbing your ankle and yanking you close as he climbs on the bed fitting himself between your thighs.

You let out a loud sigh as his heavy hands clench the clothed flesh of your thighs. His hands trail up to the belt loops of your jeans and he gives them a tug.

“Strip,” He orders. His hand sliding down the front of your legs, hiking your thighs on his hips as he goes to untie the drawstring around his waist. The pants slide down even further, exposing his adonis belt.

You swallow louder than you intended , and he chuckles lowly. You rid your upper half of any thing that could possibly stop the feel of your lover's calloused hands on your body. Logan rips the front of your pants open, tearing the seam and ripping the button off and across to who knows where.

“Oh, babe I really liked those.” You moan out softly, under any normal circumstance you would’ve been upset, but as Logan licks up your stomach as he’s pulling your pants down you figure the pants can come third. You lift your hips and yank the fabric off as Logan finally frees his poor aching cock from the prison that is his pajamas.

He sucks in a deep breath through clenched teeth, and whether it was from pain or pleasure the look on his face was enough to make you cream right then and there. You began to squirm in anticipation, trying to press your thighs together but Logan puts heavy hands on your knees and pries them further apart.

You let him, face flushed and chest panting.

”That’s it babydoll, show me that pretty pussy, hmm?” He teases you, and your face burns bright with embarrassment. You grab his arm as he pulls you flush against his bare skin. His cock slides against your slick folds, and a whine escapes both your lips.

“Fuck.” He grits out as he gyrates his hips, watching in awe as your juices coat his pulsing dick. Your fingers squeeze tighter around his arm.

“Logan.” You breathe out, your hips rising to get more friction.

“Hold on baby, you gotta give me a minute.” He’s out of breath as his hands roam all over the meat of your legs. He hikes your left ankle over his right shoulder and he pulls away.

The both of you breathless, you prop yourself on your elbows and watch as Logan guides the tip of his cock at your entrance. He pauses, leans back on his haunches and looks down at you.

“What are you waiting for, big guy?” You lean in and grab his dick, giving it a few strokes.

“It’s been two weeks and I am not a minute man.” He huffs out, watching the movements of your hand.

”You never have been.” You whisper, guiding the tip inside. Logan shudders as he leans over your body once again. His arms caging you in as his chest heaves. Your ankle slides off his shoulder, as he slowly sinks his dick further into your tight hole.

“Oh yes,” You hum, feeling absolutely stretched. Reaching out to grab Logan’s face you bring him in for a sloppy kiss.

“That’s it baby, give it to me just like that.” You purred, fingers cradling his head, foreheads pressed together, breaths mixing as Logan pulled back slowly, snapping his hips forward.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He moans, and you swallow his words.

Logan's thrusts start slow, deliberate, dragging out each movement as if savoring the feel of you. Every inch of him feels like it’s filling you up completely, and you can’t help the needy whine that escapes your lips. He grunts softly in response, his breath hot against your cheek.

"Missed this too," you whisper between pants, your body rising to meet his rhythm. Each snap of his hips has you keening, your nails digging into his back, urging him for more. Logan’s pace starts to quicken, his control slipping as the tight heat of your body pulls him in deeper.

"Shit... you're so perfect," he groans, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His mouth trails along your neck, lips brushing over your skin, leaving wet kisses as his hands tighten their grip on your waist, anchoring you to him.

Your thighs tremble around him, your body arching in response as your hands move to grip the sheets. You’re close, so close, the coil in your belly tightening with every deep thrust.

"Logan... please, don't stop," you beg, your voice breathless and needy.

Logan’s breath hitches as you tighten around him, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. He’s right on the edge, but instead of pulling out, he leans over you, his lips brushing your ear. His hand grips your thigh, keeping you locked in place as he pushes back in, slowly, torturously deep.

You whimper, feeling him stretch you all over again, and he moans in response, the sound almost desperate. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, the head of his cock dragging against that sweet spot that makes you see stars. The rhythm is slow but deliberate, his hips grinding into you with an intensity that has your body arching into him. Each time he pulls back, it’s only to push deeper than before, making you gasp and claw at his back.

"Logan... fuck," you moan, overwhelmed by the feeling of him filling you completely. He’s breathing hard against your neck, his body trembling with the effort to stay in control. But the way his cock moves inside you—deliberate, steady, dragging out the pleasure—makes it clear he’s savoring every second.

His need is palpable now, his body pressing against yours as if he can’t get close enough. "I’ve missed this... missed you so much," he mumbles, his voice hoarse as he picks up the pace just slightly. The sound of your skin meeting fills the room, the slick heat of your bodies moving in sync, every thrust hitting deeper, making you writhe beneath him.

You feel the tension in him, the way his muscles strain as he fights to hold back. But then his control starts to slip, his pace quickening, each thrust harder and faster, his hips snapping into you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. The coil in your belly tightens again, the pleasure building higher and higher, and you know he can feel it too.

"Fuck, you’re so tight," he groans, burying his face in your neck as his hips drive into you harder. His voice cracks with raw need, his movements becoming frantic. He’s so close, teetering on the edge, but instead of letting go, he keeps pushing you both further, refusing to pull out. "I’m not done with you yet," he gasps, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you in place as he thrusts deeper, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

Your body clenches around him, and you cry out, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Logan feels it, groaning as your walls flutter around him, and you think he’s going to come too, but he doesn’t. Instead, he slows just enough to keep himself in control, his hips rocking into you in a rhythm so slow and precise it makes your head spin. He pulls out slightly before pushing back in, bottoming out with every thrust, the sensation keeping you on the edge.

"God, I love you," he mumbles, his voice breaking as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. His lips brush against your cheek, your temple, as he keeps up that slow, torturous pace. "I’m so obsessed with you... I need you, baby, I need this," he groans, his voice thick with emotion, as if the feeling of being inside you is overwhelming him.

You can feel him trembling, hear the soft, needy sounds he makes as he moves inside you, and it sends another wave of pleasure through your body. Your hands find his hair, tugging gently as you pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a sloppy, desperate kiss. "I’m here... I’m yours," you whisper against his lips, your body still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

Logan’s thrusts slow even further, until he’s barely pulling out, just rocking into you gently. But every time his cock drags against that sweet spot inside, it sends a jolt of pleasure through you, leaving you trembling. It’s softer now, more intimate, but still just as intense. Your body is so sensitive, every touch, every movement feels like too much and not enough all at once.

His moans turn softer, more broken, and you can feel his control slipping as he edges closer to release. His breath is hot against your ear, his voice hoarse as he whispers, "I can’t stop... you feel so fucking good."

Logan feels you tighten around him with what he thinks is another orgasm, his thrusts becoming purposeful, and he groans deeply, his body shaking as his release crashes into him. His cock throbs inside you, and you feel the warm flood of him filling you up, but just as you expect him to pull out, he surprises you.

“Wait, baby… not yet,” he rasps, his voice rough with need. Before you can respond, his hips push forward again, grinding deep, his cock still hard inside you. The overstimulation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you let out a sob, clutching meekly at him as he starts moving again, slow but firm. The sensation is overwhelming, but Logan’s grip on your hips tightens as if he can’t let go.

You cry, tears forming in your eyes, your body still trembling from your orgasm, but Logan keeps going, his breath ragged and desperate.

“Fuck, I need more,” he mumbles against your skin, his lips brushing over your neck as he starts to thrust again. His movements are a little rough, his need palpable, and you can feel him building up again, his body already close to another release.

He thrusts faster now, deeper, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, and you can’t help the way your body reacts.

“Oh, Logan~” you cry out, overwhelmed by the feeling of him filling you over and over, the slick sound of your bodies meeting echoing in the room.

He’s panting now, his breath hot against your skin, and you feel him tense up again. His hips slam into you one last time, and he groans deeply, spilling into you for the second time. But even then, he doesn’t stop.

“Oh god… not yet,” he whispers, almost like a plea, his cock twitching inside you as he keeps rocking his hips. His pace slows but doesn’t stop, the overstimulation almost too much to bear, but at the same time, it feels so damn good. His thrusts become shorter, his cock pulling out just enough before pushing back in, keeping him buried deep inside you.

Your body is on fire, sensitive and trembling as Logan chases yet another orgasm. His voice is low, needy, as he presses his forehead to yours, groaning softly.

“I can’t stop… I need to come again… fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbles, almost like he’s talking to himself, completely lost in the sensation of being inside you.

Your legs shake as he thrusts slowly, hitting deep inside you with every roll of his hips. You’re not sure how much more you can take, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and soon, the coil tightens in your belly again. “Logan, I’m gonna—” you cry out, your body tensing as another orgasm rips through you, this one so intense it leaves you seeing stars.

Logan moans with you, his hips snapping forward one last time as he comes again, filling you up even more. His body shakes, his breath heavy as he holds himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your waist tightly like he never wants to let go. You both stay there, trembling and panting, the room filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

Even after three orgasms, Logan’s still inside you, his cock softening but not pulling out. He’s so needy, so desperate to stay connected to you. His lips brush against your ear, his voice soft and broken. “I’m obsessed with you,” he whispers, his hips still moving just enough to keep him inside you.

He leans down to lazily kiss you, lips enveloping his. You stroke his hair, running your fingers through the damp strands as you hold him close, your body finally starting to relax. Logan’s breaths begin to even out, his thrusts slowing to a stop, but he stays buried inside, his body pressing down on yours in a protective, possessive way. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in tighter as he rests his forehead against your shoulder, completely spent.

“Still with me?” he mutters, his voice low and gruff in your ear, the heat of his breath sending a shiver through you.

“Barely,” you tease, your fingers still idly combing through his hair as you try to catch your breath.

Logan huffs a small laugh, pulling back just enough to look down at you. There’s a softness in his gaze, a mix of exhaustion and something deeper. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not ready to move yet.”

You smile, the weight of his body grounding you. “Not like I’m complaining.”

He dips down to kiss you again, slower this time, a quiet hum escaping his lips as he pulls you closer. His grip tightens, keeping you pressed together, like he’s savoring every last second of this. He grabs the extra duvet from under the pillows and wraps the blanket around your frames.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me,” he murmurs against your lips, but there’s no urgency in his voice. He’s just as close to passing out as you are.

“I won’t,” you whisper, though your body feels heavy, every muscle finally unwinding.

Eventually, you both roll over, Logan keeping you snug against him, still inside you as he wraps his arms around your waist. The room grows quieter, the sound of your breaths mingling as your heartbeats slow.

“Stay here,” he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper now, almost lost in the haze of sleep. His head rests against your chest, his body relaxing completely.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reply softly, pressing a kiss to his temple, your hand resting on his back. You can feel the last bit of tension leaving his body as he lets out a deep sigh.

Within moments, you both start to drift off, the warmth of his body against yours pulling you deeper into sleep, completely spent but content.

—

a/n: did i make logan too needy?

[enwoso]

lovie seeing katie’s new ad and making fun of her every time she’s around😂 she’ll run past and yells out

“neowwww🏎️”

“woosh 💨”

“vroom🚝”

“zing🛎️”

NOISE BOX — alessia russo x child!reader

lil something something, trying to find my mojo for writing again🙃

grumpy masterlist

“katie, katie!” you called out as the irish girl walked along the training pitch, her water bottle in her hand. a sweet smile appearing when she looked towards you who was stood at the side calling her name, flaying your arms around.

“tiny! you okay?” she asks as she gets a little bit closer as you nod your head a little dramatically. the rest of the girls packing up, training being finished for the day.

“i see your ad- avert-“ you began but getting yourself in a muddle trying to say the word, katie keeping her patience as she tried to prompt you into the word.

“advert?” katie tried as you nodded, “yep that one!”

“did you now?” katie laughed a little as you began to imitate the noise effects that katie had made in the mini advert for adidas.

“neowwww” you giggled as you ran around katie in circles your arms kept in by your side before changing your noise effect to the next one, “wooooshhh” you called out loudly this time your arms going out a bit like a plane as katie just laughed, it was actually quite cute.

alessia hearing your giggles came to inspect what was the cause, seeing katie stood still as you ran circles around the irish girl. alessia wanting to also make sure you weren’t being annoying.

“lovie, your not being little monkey are you?” you heard your mummy’s voice as you stopped in your tracks, a little mischievous smile appearing in your face as you shook your head.

alessia’s eyes moving to look at katie who shook her head, “no she’s just copying my noises from my advert”

an understanding nod came over your mummy as she giggled a little, knowing that some of the girls on the team had taken the mick out of katie for those sounds. it being a little comical that now you were doing the same.

“well come on lovie, let katie finish her cool down” alessia held out her hand for you to come and hold but not before you rushed past katie, “ziiingg!”

a small chuckle came from katie as well as alessia as you ran in front of the two, most likely trying to catch up with some of the other girls in front. it being very easy to hear the noises you were making as you ran ahead.

“i’m never going to escape that am i?” katie looked to alessia as they then both looked to you still running around making the noises. a small shake of the head coming from alessia as she popped her lip.

“nope i don’t think you are mac- you’ve got your own little noise box now” alessia smirked as she nudged katie.

[chukys-mouthguard]

rubberband

featuring -> luke hughes x female reader

word count -> 2.8k

genre -> fluff/angst

summary -> luke comes back to umich, but he can’t avoid seeing you

note -> italics are flashbacks

The start of another school year meant another fall semester filled with football, house parties, and memories. You and your friends had just finished moving in the day before, Saturday being blocked off on your calendar as the day of welcome back parties all over campus. Typically you would have one house in mind to go to, but since he’d left Michigan, you weren’t a fan. Not that the other guys that were still around weren’t great, but the memories that remained after Luke had moved on to New Jersey were still so fresh for you. Though it was your Senior year, and you were trying your best to make it a great one.

You and your friends headed down the sidewalk, closing in on the hockey house and you could feel your palms growing sweaty. The house still looked just as it did the first night you’d shown up there Freshman year, not a clue of who you would meet that night.

-

“Can I get you anything?”

Looking up, your eyes met those of the curly haired Freshman you’d heard was named Luke. He smiled softly down at you, noticing how shy you’d become looking over the large amount of alcohol they had covering their kitchen counter. Your freehand scratching at the skin of your wrist, a nervous habit Luke surely noticed but found cute, smiling down at you as you nodded.

“Um, sure.”

“We’ve got beer, vodka, tequila. Though I would not recommend that unless you’re actually trying to die tonight.”

You laughed at his joking as he gave you the grand tour of the bottom shelf alcohol that the boys could afford. Though no one minding as they more so cared about being drunk than what the liquids tasted like.

“What are you drinking?”

Luke looked at his solo cup, making a face before returning eye contact.

“Beer, but if I’m honest I wouldn’t recommend this either. It’s awful to be blunt.”

The two of you laughed together, your eyes scouring the options once again as the only logical choice remained, vodka. Luke poured you some into a cup, letting you decide on what you’d opt to mix into the alcohol. Though he mentioned he wouldn’t judge if you drank it straight, but surely it would taste worse that way.

“I’m Luke.”

“Y/n.”

“Well y/n, can I give you the tour?”

-

Little did you know it, but at the time Luke was using the excuse of a tour as a way to get away from the party. He wasn’t the biggest party animal his Freshman year, enjoying the opportunity to sneak away with you for a bit and relax. His favorite spot was to sneak up onto the roof, not many people knew how and it was often quiet up there.

But it was clear that had changed as the roof was currently crowded with tens of people seated around, some chugging beers and tossing them to the ground below. Others shouting at the crowd below over the music that was blasting from the house.

-

“So Luke Hughes, how long until people discover our secret spot?”

The two of you had been keeping up the routine of sneaking to the roof for several weekends now. No one ever seemed to notice, and even if they did they made their own assumptions of what the two of you were doing.

“Hmm, well, I would hope they never do. I’d love for this to stay our spot. But, I would say maybe two more weekends and we will get kicked out.”

He sipped his beer as the two of you watched the party taking place below. Always loving to watch his teammates try their luck with different girls; some succeeding, others striking out.

“Can I ask you something?”

You looked to Luke, his smile fading as he looked more sincere, nodding his head as his way of asking you to continue.

“Do you, are we…sorry, I just. I don’t want to read too much into anything, but, what would you say this is? Like with us?”

Luke sighed softly, sipping his beer as he tried to find the right response. Making you nervously scratch at your wrist as you were immediately regretting even asking the question. Surely he didn’t see this as anything, he was focused on hockey not relationships.

“I think this is, comfortable? It feels right? I don’t know, I just really like you being here with me. I can’t describe it, but it feels natural. What do you think?

He nervously sipped his beer while you now tapped the side of your seltzer, nodding slightly in agreement as you were thinking of your own response.

“I agree. It feels right, whatever it is. I just enjoy the time I get with you, always. And, I’m happy here.”

“Me too.”

Luke’s smile faded as he slowly moved closer to you, his hand tucking some of your hair behind your ear before resting on your cheek. You could feel his breath against your lips he was so close to you. Your eyes darted from his lips to his eyes as time felt like it was frozen before he’d finally kissed you. The two of you tangling your hands into each other's hair, the taste of alcohol mixed with your chapstick. Neither one of you fighting for dominance, simply letting the moment happen how it may.

Luke finally pulled away, a blush on his cheeks as he scratched his head. Slightly embarrassed at his forwardness, but appreciating that you didn’t seem to turn down his actions.

“Still feels right?”

“Mhm, definitely.”

Luke smiled as he looked down, messing with the bracelets on his wrist, pulling a simple rubberband type off and grabbing for your hand.

“Here.”

He placed the bracelet on your wrist with a smile, admiring how it looked despite its simple nature.

“Whenever you’re feeling nervous, when you’re missing me, or whatever the case may be. I’ll be there.”

You smiled at the rubberband, lightly snapping it against your skin. Realizing that not only was it a reminder of Luke, but something to help your nervous habit he’d obviously picked up on. Appreciating the gesture and that he’d noticed the small quirk about you.

-

That bracelet was your source of comfort during numerous finals weeks, a stress reliever during all of Luke’s home games as you’d snap it against your skin. And even with Luke leaving for New Jersey, the bracelet remained as a symbol of his promise to always come back.

Things between you and Luke had continued similarly to how they’d started your Freshman year. Though never putting a label on things, it was common knowledge that you were certainly more than nothing, you were something.

You watched the group of girls from across the way, crowding around in hopes to get to see the guys after their big win. It was a normal occurrence, especially with girls from opposing schools. And while you and Luke were definitely secure in your relationship, you still couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.

Watching how the girls all flocked to him, asking for pictures, trying to create small talk. Luke of course too nice to ignore them, simply smiling through it all.

Looking up, his eyes met yours, his smile growing wide as he excused himself from the group of girls. Immediately wrapping his arms around your waist as he picked you up, stealing a kiss before setting you back down.

“You’ve got some groupies huh?”

Luke rolled his eyes with a short, placing an arm around your shoulder as you two started off towards the exit.

“Only one groupie I have eyes for babe.”

-

Things were great with Luke, that was until he’d gotten drafted by the Devils. You knew the day was likely to come at some point, but you never thought about what it would be like when it finally did.

The conversation hadn’t really taken place regarding what would happen for the two of you if and when he made the move to New Jersey. But once things were official, and he was leaving, you were faced with the inevitable.

-

“So, you weren’t gonna tell me until the day you were leaving?”

You looked to Luke through tear filled eyes. While you wanted to be happy and excited for him, having just signed his entry level contract with the Devils. You were heartbroken that in the same day he’d achieved his dreams, he was also telling you goodbye.

“I know, it’s the worst possible way to tell you. But, believe me, this is all happening so fast there was no right time for any of this. I hate having to just up and leave you. I won't be that far, you can come visit me, we will see each other in the summer. This doesn’t change anything.”

Luke looked down to see you nervously pulling at the rubberband that was on your wrist. Smiling softly as he knew you hadn’t once taken it off since he’d given it to you over a year ago.

Taking your hands in his he tried his best to relax your mind that he could see was racing with a million and one thoughts.

“Look at me, I promise, this doesn’t change things okay?”

You wanted to believe him, that him only being a few states away wouldn’t change anything. That you’d continue with your relationship exactly how it had been. That you could snap the rubberband on your wrist whenever you were sad, anxious, or missing him, and it would all magically get better. But you couldn’t help but be nervous about what this next step meant for him. Leaving you behind at school, while you knew it was bound to happen, didn’t feel any less shitty than all the times you’d tried to prepare yourself for it.

“You promise?”

Luke cupped your face as he brought your lips to his, the kiss nothing more than a longing peck, but enough to make your racing thoughts cease for even a moment.

“I promise”

-

But his promises fell short, and those summer’s at the lake house never happened. One trip to New Jersey was all you’d gotten, and soon enough Luke had become mostly a memory.

Text messages and calls were here and there, his schedule keeping him busier than he ever was at Michigan. You’d tried your best to hold out hope, telling yourself that he’d made a promise to you. But as more time went on, you’d begun to realize that maybe all this relationship was with Luke, was nothing more than a casual thing. That despite how much he cared about you, and all the promises he’d made, he wasn’t looking for something serious. That he wasn’t serious about you.

Making your way up the stairs of the hockey house, you’d noticed several familiar faces along with several new ones. The freshman players were easier to spot, as they reminded you of Luke on the night you’d first met him. Timid compared to the veteran guys who were screaming about games of pong and beer die that were set to start in the backyard.

You felt yourself growing a bit anxious, wondering why you’d come back to a house that held so many memories. While they were mostly good, they made you think of Luke.

Heading out to the backyard, you found comfort in the sea of people. Knowing that you’d easily be able to get lost among them, distract yourself from the familiar faces while you hoped the alcohol you planned to consume would ease your nerves.

Following behind your friend, you found yourself subconsciously snapping the band at your wrist, trying to distract yourself from any Luke related thoughts that crept into your mind.

Taking a solo cup from her hand, your friend began talking about the way the girls at the party seemed to flock to all the hockey guys as they stood on the back porch. The two of you laughed, knowing you once were like them. Drooling over the shirtless boys at the house, thinking they were the hottest thing on campus. Wanting to be able to say you’d gotten the chance to talk to one of the hockey boys at the party.

“Oh my god, y/n, please don’t look at the porch.”

Your friend reached for your arm, turning you to face her so your back was to the group of men on the porch. Naturally you looked over your shoulder as you were curious what she didn’t want you to see. But the moment you saw him, you felt your heart sink.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. We can leave.”

Obviously, Luke had every right to be there. He did go to Michigan and played hockey for the school. But you weren’t expecting to see him back since he’d moved on to the NHL. Especially not expecting to see him shirtless at the hockey house looking more amazing than ever. Girls crowded around him, all hoping to get even just a touch of his hand on their skin to be able to brag about for the next month.

Before you could make a decision about leaving, Luke’s attention had turned in your direction. Slightly lowering his sunglasses from his eyes, they met yours as he stood shocked to have seen you.

You could feel the goosebumps beginning to cover your skin, your heart racing as Luke began to make his way over to you. Instinctually, you headed through the crowd, wanting to be anywhere but this house. Luke set down his beer as he took off after you.

“Y/n, come on. Please y/n!”

His hand grabbed your arm as he caught up to you, stopping you in your tracks as you turned to face him.

“What?”

Your tone was harsh as you tried hiding the pain in your voice, but the tears in your eyes of course gave it away. Luke’s heart sinking seeing you hurt, never expecting this moment to happen, otherwise he might have prepared better. But for the moment, he was at a loss for words.

“I, I’m sorry. For everything. I know that’s not specific, but I’m honestly just shocked to see you.”

You laughed as you wiped your tears that were threatening to fall. Shaking your head you searched for the right words, trying not to start a fight in the alley next to the hockey house. People occasionally walking by, a scene not something that was needed, especially for Luke.

“You’re shocked to see me, on the campus of the college I go to? Interesting…”

“Oh come, don’t be like that y/n please! Look, I get it. I fucked up, in so many ways. The summers at the lake house, you coming to New Jersey, all of it. I broke my promises to you, and I wish I could go back and change it all.”

Luke’s eyes fell to the band on your wrist, watching as you snapped it against your skin. Hating that he was making you nervous or anxious, wishing that things could go back to normal for the two of you. But he knew he’d ruined that.

“Look I get it, if you didn’t want something serious. If I was just a casual fling or something. Then fine. But why waste my time? Why make me think you liked me?”

Luke grabbed your wrist, stopping you from snapping the band any longer.

“Y/n, none of that is true. It wasn’t that I thought you were a casual fling. I just, I couldn’t be the person you needed. With signing with the Devils and leaving here, leaving you. I just couldn't keep my promises. And it was wrong, to make you think I could. To keep you holding on if this wasn’t going to happen for us. And I’m so sorry to do that to you.”

You looked up at him, seeing the pain in his eyes, believing his words as you pulled the band from your wrist. Setting it in his hand as you nodded your head with a sigh.

“I appreciate the apology, but it doesn’t change anything that happened. It doesn’t change how I feel, how hurt I am by all of it. So, you can take that bracelet back. I can’t keep it anymore and think about you every time I see it. That was a promise, that I could think of you and find comfort anytime I snapped it or saw it. But, I think that I need to move on. Because it’s just another broken promise at this point.”

Luke bit his tongue, knowing that despite what he wishes he could say, you don’t want to hear it. Holding the bracelet tight in his hand, he watched as you pushed past him. Heading back to the party, leaving him with only the bracelet as a memory. Slipping it on to his own wrist, immediately snapping it a few times to calm his emotions before returning to join the guys on the back porch.

[paperclip-skz]

Not Drinking For a Fun Time

fem*Reader x Bang Chan

*WARNING*

contains: p n v, sex, unprotected sex, kissing, TENSION, straight up delulu, grinding, oral (fem receiving), I'm sure I missed something; let me know in the comments.

WC: 8.7k

a/n: not gonna lie, I'm super nervous because this is my first ever "long fic" that I'm posting and I'm not sure how ya'll will react. This started out as a fluff story and we only meant to be a couple hundred words or so...and then it escalated. Also, my requests are open so if you have an idea and want me to play it out please do not be afraid to send me an ask, I'll pretty much anything fluff, scenario....the dirtier the better hehe

Synopsis: “I’m not a performer, and I’m not a singer. I can’t entertain people. What makes you think I can lie to them?” … this was the goal. Lie to the public about a relationship between you and Chris, but there was no relationship

***** 

You're at the bar. Sulking. Wishing you were at home but longing for another drink. Your day couldn’t be worse, from the emotional rollercoaster you’ve been on to all the little things that ticked you off in the worst ways. 

The bartender rests another glass in front of you, the cold liquid reflecting the bar's dim light. “On the house,” he gestures to the drink. You nod your head in thanks and lazily grab the drink. You’ve already had enough to make your mind foggy, but not foggy enough. The events of today keep replaying in your head. 

“You’ll need to cooperate with us, Ms.L/N.” The shock is evident in not only your face but your tone as well. 

“Cooperate? You're asking me to be someone that I’m not.” Your chest heaves with anger, and your mind runs miles with adrenaline. 

“Y/N, please,” Chris coos. You whip your head around to meet the leader's and the group's defeated eyes. They have their heads hung low, still trying to process the information given in the meeting. 

“I’m not a performer, and I’m not a singer. I can’t entertain people. What makes you think I can lie to them?” … this was the goal. Lie to the public about a relationship between you and Chris, but there was no relationship. In fact, you didn’t know any of the members from Stray Kids. 

You didn’t know any of them until you started working in the same building as them. You’d pass them by in the halls, nodding in acknowledgment. One day, you were just off, stressed from all the work and frustrated that nothing was working. 

Chris noticed and asked if you were okay, being the amazing person he is. His comfort eased your stress, but anyone from afar could have mistaken his comfort for something else. The next thing you knew, pictures of you and Chris were plastered on every face of social media. Hell, you were even on the news.

Everyone was terrified that the public would react negatively and you wouldn’t be allowed to step a foot out of your own house, but it was the opposite. People swooned over your fake relationship and the idea that Chris had found someone that made him happy, but none of that was true. 

The sting of the liquid slides down your throat, and the bitter aftertaste makes your face scrunch. However, the foggy effects of the drink quickly fade your feelings. You notice a few snickers behind you, a pair of girls whispering and staring holes into the back of your head. You ignore them as much as possible while taking another small sip of your drink. 

Am I being overdramatic? Should I just go with what they are saying? People already think so, anyway. Thoughts cloud your mind, and you're entirely oblivious to the man who sneakily slides into the stool next to you. You turn your eyes to him and notice the ball cap that covers his face and the oversized black hoodie that hugs his body casually. 

He lifts his head to meet your eyes, and you're welcomed with soft brown eyes. You sigh…and groan simultaneously, taking another sip of your drink. “I’m not drinking for a fun time, Mr. Bahng.” 

“Then I’m not either.” he raises his finger, indicating a bottle. The bartender quickly sets a bottle of Soju on the counter along with a shot glass. 

You both sit there in silence as Chris pours a single shot. He swings his head back, taking the shot with ease. 

“What are you doing here Bahng?” your voice mimics defeat. 

“Drinking,” his voice is anything but defeat or sympathy. In fact, it almost sounds… optimistic. Your blood boils. How is he not angry, confused, or at least unhappy with the situation? You look at him with disgust.

You scoff under your breath, paying attention back to your glass, “I can’t believe you.”

“Can’t believe what?” he questions.

“I can’t believe you have no reaction. I can’t believe you're not angry. They are asking for us to be in a fake relationship, and you're not the least bit affected,” you whisper, careful not to let anyone hear. 

“I am angry, but not in the way you think” he turned his body to you. “I’m angry that you're in this situation. You didn’t ask for this, but here we are.” 

“I don’t think I can do this.��� You lean forward, caging your head in your hands. Tears are threatening to spill. I can’t lie to the world when I don’t even want this. I don’t want to lie. I want to be able to date and have fun, not be caged to some contract just because someone mistook comfort for something else. I can’t have people watch my every move, just waiting for me to make the simplest mistake. 

“Not by yourself, you can’t,” his words lift your head slowly, and your body hangs low in front of you. 

“I don’t even know you.”

“That will come with time. Look, I won’t force you into this; no one will. But you need to know that things have already escalated, and if we don’t do something soon, they will continue to escalate. Yes, this is a solution, a messy one, but a solution.” The earnestness in his eyes makes your heart warm and the tears swell. “And you need to know, you're not doing this alone. I might be a stranger, but I’m here, and the guys say I’m a pretty good listener.” his last comment makes you chuckle as a single tear escapes you, rolling down your cheek. Chris instinctively reaches his hand to catch the tear on your cheek; his thumb delicately wipes the salty liquid off your cheek. The touch is simple but sweet, and you hate the way his touch electrifies your whole body. Your eyes meet, gentle brown eyes and a deep dimple smile. 

Your heart fills with an unfamiliar warmth, but it's welcomed….slightly. Maybe this won’t be as bad as you might think. 

They did offer money, and there's a contract, so does the risk really outweigh the means? Your mind is fighting to keep up with what's morally right and what you want. What do you want? 

You do the one thing you’ve always done: count to three in your head, breathe a long, deep breath, and say the first thing that comes to mind. “Okay.” You stare into Chris’s eyes, pleading for him to understand your hesitance. “I’ll do it.” 

Chris breathes out a sigh of relief, and you can physically see his body relax on the stool. He takes out his hand, waiting for you to shake it. He gives you a look and raises his eyebrows. It makes you laugh, but regardless, you shake his hand. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

“No problem, Mr.Bahng,” you spin in your chair and back to your drink.

“Please, call me Chris,” he nudges your shoulder playfully. 

What could possibly go wrong? 

*******

3 weeks go by after you agreed to be in this fake relationship. A contract was signed, and rules were in place, but that didn’t stop your nerves from crawling all over your body. 

“Okay, run this by me one more time so that I understand completely.” 

Stray Kids' head of marketing sits comfortably at the end of the table, scanning you and Chris. 

You and Chris, it's hard to think about. Since you’ve both agreed to this, you’ve gotten closer and become close friends. It’s hard to imagine that you barely even knew each other weeks ago, but now, he’s your closest friend, closer than anyone else. 

“The press and fans love your relationship; it's actually boosting ratings. Ever since we announced your ‘relationship,’” she air quotes the word, “your fans have been more active.”

You don’t know how to feel; you're glad that the band is getting more attention, but you're also a little nervous. I mean, how long is this little ruse supposed to go on for? “Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ coming?” 

“But, your fans are asking more and more questions. When did you meet? Are you two living together? How involved are you?” She directs each question to you as if you know all the answers. 

“So what can we do to ease the questions? Surely, no one can expect us to keep this up forever.” You’re thankful Chris can read your mind. 

The marketing head and everyone else in the room hold their breaths. The silence makes your heart thump and sink, “you are, aren't you?” The laugh that escapes you is humorless and breathy. “You are expecting us to keep this up, at least for as long as we can, until someone starts raising eyes, but even then, you’ll probably come up with some way to puppet us out of it.” 

Chris looks from you to the marketing head, waiting for someone to answer your accusation. “Well, is that true?” You’re both met with more silence, answering both of your questions. He scoffs next to you, joining you in your humorless acts.  “Well, what's your solution then?” 

There has to be a catch to all of this. “We suggest that you both…” she pauses, eyes screaming with concern, “start saying that you live together.” 

“Just start saying this publicly? That's all?” You wait for the answer to Chris’s question, but when their marketing professional meets your eye with a weary look, you already know it.

“No, they want us to live together and show it off,” you answer Chris before the head of marketing can speak. 

Chris is fuming beside you; this wasn’t a part of the deal, “But the contract-” 

“The contract states that both of you will keep up this act under any means necessary.” she pauses for a moment, “if the public sees that you are both happy and moving forward, there’s a very good possibility that they’ll be content and move onto another form of gossip. We need to show them that you're both just moving forward like a normal couple.” She tries to make sense of it, even though as you replay her words in your mind, they seem crazier and crazier. You and Chris share the same look of disapproval, but if they were right about this fake relationship, why wouldn’t they be right about anything else? “We just need to keep this act up until something better comes along,” she continues, directing her last comment directly at you, “I promise this will all be over soon. No idol can escape drama of some kind.”

You hang on desperately to her last words, which brings you here and now, moving the last box of your stuff into a small apartment the company paid for. At least you're not spending any real money on all this. You set your box down on the kitchen counter, clapping your hands. “Finally,” you breathe. 

You walk around the kitchen counter and into the living room. There's a large couch in the middle and two hallways on either side of the living room. One leads to Chris’s room and the other to yours. It's a small apartment, but it works for your situation. Chris had already moved his stuff into his room; you haven’t seen much of him. 

You saunter down the hall to your bedroom and collapse onto your bed. Suddenly, your phone starts to ring. You answer without looking at the caller ID, “Hi honey, how are you?”.

“Hey Ama, I’m good, how is Appa?” the smile reaches your ears as you talk endlessly with your mother. The second this whole thing started, the first thing you did was call your mother. Hearing her encouraging words made the whole ordeal a little less nerve-racking. You couldn’t lie to your mother, the rest of the world…maybe, but not her. 

After an hour, you hang up the phone with your mom, bidding her a goodnight. “Jesus, it's late.” You look out into the cold night sky, guessing you kind of lost track of time. 

You get up from your spot on your bed and hurriedly get dressed into your sleepwear until your stomach pains with the feeling of being empty. Hunger overwhelms you as you make your way out to the kitchen quietly. You're wearing an oversized sweater and shorts, with your hair up in a messy bun as you enter the kitchen to find Chris eating cereal. “Don’t tell me that’s your dinner.” 

“Hey! I will let you know that this is a perfectly normal late-night snack,” Chris says between mouthfuls. He’s wearing a black tank top, showing off his defined arms and grey sweatpants. It's so casual, but why does it make him look so hot? 

It makes you chuckle and shake your head, and you slowly make your way to the middle of the kitchen. 

The one word to describe the air in the room right now is awkward. What do you do? Do you act like he’s not there and just go about making food? Do you take a snack into your room and leave him be? Maybe he's hungry, but is asking to make him some food too much? 

Chris sees the gears turning in your head, “do you want something to eat?” He asks.

“Oh, Um. Yeah, but I’m not sure what to make just yet.” You fiddle with your sleeve.

“There's ramen in the cabinets and cereal in the other one. I’m not sure what's in the fridge, but I’m sure there's some fruit if you’d like.” You nod your head, thinking of what you're craving. “But we can always order something if you're craving something specific?” 

He’s so kind. It's the same kindness he showed that fateful day when someone mistook that kindness for something more intimate. You smile at the thought. “Fruit sounds good.” You walk over to the fridge and scan its contents. You settle on some strawberries, take the plastic box, and run it through the sink. You don’t know how hungry you really are, so instead of wasting a plate and taking it to your room, you settle on just plucking each strawberry out of the plastic container. 

*Chris* 

Chris watches as you wrap your plump lips around each strawberry; his mind spins with different ideas. He thinks of your lips wrapping around his finger, your tongue twirling around his digit. He thinks of his cock springing free and your hand pumping him to full length while your mouth hangs low in anticipation. He leans forward, guiding himself across your waiting tongue…

“So why are you up so late?” Your comment snaps him out of his fantasies. He tries to shuffle in his spot, making it seem casual when, in reality, his sweats have become uncomfortably tight. 

“I had some work I needed to finish, and then I got hungry.” he gestures to the now empty bowl, “How about you?” 

“I was on a call with my mom, lost track of time, and then got hungry.” You gesture to the strawberry in your hand and slowly wrap your lips around it. Chris looks down, trying not to stare, but then he swallows a groan when he sneaks a glimpse of your bare legs. Shorts. She’s just wearing shorts. Get a hold of yourself. 

Chris needs to think of something to divert the conversation. It's too awkward right now, and it's not helping when all he can think about is ripping your shorts off. 

“Ho-”

‘Yo-”

You both speak at the same time. Clearly, you are both trying to make the whole thing a little more comfortable. Both of you chuckle at the realization. 

“I really hope we can make this whole thing a little less awkward,” Chris says as you start packing the rest of the strawberries and putting the stems in the nearby trash can. 

“Me too,” you sigh.

“We’re friends! The only show we have to put on is for the camera”

******

This was a shit idea. He can’t eat, he can’t sleep, he can’t function without a single thought leading back to you. And this “ruse” is going on for way too long. 

It's been 3 months. 3 whole months! 

But Chris couldn’t lie—it's been the best three months. You’ve both gotten so comfortable with each other that you’ve dedicated Fridays to movie night. Chris will sometimes bring your coffee order to you just because he knows you’d appreciate it, even if he doesn’t drink coffee himself. 

You’ve gotten to know each other so well and laughed so hard together that it just feels natural. 

He can’t help it. Even before this whole thing happened, he’d always watched you from afar, admired how hard you worked and how beautiful you were. But it was always that—a distant crush. 

Until this whole ordeal just planted itself right in his lap. He had to get close to you and take a chance with you. He didn’t care if it was fake. It was a chance. 

But tonight, he was cursing at himself for ever agreeing to this deal in the first place. 

It had been three months, so the public was starting to ask questions about when they were going to see you at an event…together. So, the marketing team decided that a red carpet-event was the perfect time to show you off to the public. 

Just a few pictures, maybe some conversations, but that's it. Then we’ll both be home, and we can just watch a movie. At least, that's what he thought. 

You both got ready separately because Chris had an interview an hour before the event. He was waiting by the front for your car to pull forward, and that's when you stepped out. 

His eyes widened, and his breath literally caught in his throat. Your dress was long and elegant, with one strap hanging loosely on your shoulder while the other was bare. It hugged your hips tightly to accentuate your best features. The slit was high, a little higher than you’d prefer, but it matched the theme of the dark red dress. The back of the dress was bare and reached down just before the curve of your ass. 

Chris took a long, low breath, trying to control the fighting urge inside him. He was staring at the way the dress flowed with every step you took; it was like you were walking on water with how graceful each heel clicked. 

“What?” 

He took his eyes off your legs and up to your doe eyes, which were smoky. It makes your eyes bright and glow. 

“N-nothing. I-” It was hard for him to form words. He knew you were beautiful; he thought about it every day, but he never saw you like this. He always saw you in either comfy clothes or your work clothes, never this. “You look beautiful.” 

He could see the natural blush from underneath your makeup, and he melted at the sight of your smile. 

“Shall we?” Chris held out his arm.

“We shall.” You took his arm, and he walked you inside the event. 

Easy peasy.

***

There were endless flashes and pictures, and reporters were screaming from one side to the other. You and Chris were being pulled from one background to another, everyone begging to get a picture of the happy couple. If only they knew. 

Chris was holding the middle of your back, smiling widely at each camera. Your body shivered from his touch. Surely he could feel the goosebumps across your skin. If he did, he didn’t let you know. His previous comment lingered in your mind, and it made your body warm with affection. 

He’s wearing a tailored black suit with just the jacket. It was styled so that he didn’t need a shirt to complement the jacket. It was high enough to cover everything but low enough to show his muscular chest. He stole your breath away—there's no better way to put it. 

His hold on you could be seen as endearing to the public eye, but you knew his tight hold felt different. It felt possessive. As he guided you from one area to another, his touch became more apparent to you. You could map out the roughness of the pads of his fingers, the feeling of the cold metal from his accessories, and how his palm rested fully on your skin. 

It sent tingles through your body, tingles you haven't felt in a while. 

At one point, he guided you to another photographer. Your smile falters, the exhaustion getting to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Chris turn his head to look at you, studying you. You couldn’t see if he was smiling. All you could tell was that he was looking at you. The photographers must be eating this up. 

You focused on trying to keep your smile up until you felt the tip of Chris's finger tilt your chin in his direction. Your eyes meet, and your smile immediately fades. Thinking you did something wrong, you search his eyes, but all you see is warmth. Your worry fades, your lips part, and your mind goes blank. The noise of the photographer fades, the tightness of the dress disappears, and every little thing is gone, the only thing you can hear, see, and breathe is Chris. 

His eyes wander from you to your lips and back to your eyes, secretly asking for permission. It's for the camera. You tilt in your head, begging for him to lean in. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as Chris slowly leans in to graze his lips across yours. He presses a little hard to envelop your lips. His tongue slips across your bottom lip, and his hand on your back itches to touch you more. 

Loud cheers ultimately break up your little moment, and Chris quickly separates his lips from yours. The party mask slips back into action when his dimple smile appears and flashes towards the camera. 

A few more pictures and smiles and Chris quietly guides you out of the red carpet area—the feeling of his soft lips on your own leaves a tattooed memory in your brain. Finally, you and Chris are inside the elegant building. Art decorates each wall, and people mingle around, admiring the work of the artist, sharing conversations, and enjoying the drinks floating around by the staff. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I thought maybe it would be a good idea for the camera.” Chris is quick to answer any accusation that you didn’t have prepared. 

“Oh, yeah, you're right. It was a good move.” You try to seem calm and cool about what just happened. I mean, you are cool with what he did; you just wish it lasted longer. “For the camera.” 

“For the camera” the last few words come out breathy and soft by the both of you, not sure if either of you truly means it. 

“Chris!” shouts of his name come from afar, and you recognize the familiar faces. “Guys!” Chris gives his members a big hug, leaving you to follow close behind. You remember the ones who are here: Hyunjin, Minho, and Felix, all gather to greet Chris. 

You leave them to get caught up, knowing they’ve missed seeing each other. A waiter comes by, offering you a drink, and you take it with grace. You know there will be a driver taking you home tonight, so why not have a few drinks? You wander around, enjoying the sight of the beautiful art. 

Colors and interesting figures decorate each canvas. You read each name and study the painting, wanting to understand exactly what the artist was feeling when creating each masterpiece. 

You stop at a particular painting of a woman. She's surrounded by different shades of black and white, her body covered by just a sheet of cloth. Her bare shoulder and the side of her face are turned away from the view of the audience, seeming like she is trying to hide her naked figure. The cloth in question is splattered with all different shades of red. You examine the title of the piece, “Hidden Lust.”

“Interesting painting?” A voice startles you from behind. Chris stands behind you, examining the painting with you. 

You smile, returning to the painting. “How are the boys?”

“They’re good; they asked about you.” A smirk plays on his lips as he studies the painting alongside you. 

You hum and examine the brittle strokes of the painting. You both stand there in silence, admiring each delicate brush of paint. 

Once you hear Chris's steady breathing, all concentration on the painting goes out the window. You can practically feel it on your skin, sending tingles straight to your core. You and Chris stand a mere few inches apart, your hands twitching to touch. 

All thoughts of how the artist could be portrayed in the painting have left your mind; the only thing that haunts your mind is the feeling of Chris’s lips on yours. The fainted memory still makes your skin tingle and your core pound with need. Suddenly the breath you have been holding releases with a long sigh, and you can see Chris suck in a breath. 

Slowly, your head turns in his direction, and Chris does the same. You both hold eye contact for what feels like forever, silently sending each other hidden messages. The air between you is so thick it becomes hard to breathe. Your eyes dart down onto his lips, retaining the memory once again, imagining what his lips would feel like if they were placed on other parts of your body. 

“There’s the lucky couple!” your moment is broken once again, and Chris is left to greet more flooding guests. Once again, you're left to wander the walls…alone. 

***

Where did she go? He’s been roaming around this building for what feels like hours. If he wasn’t stopped every five minutes, maybe he could find you. 

It's not until he sees the dark, silky color of your dress he finally releases the breath he’s been holding. 

You're walking away from a painting and venturing off into another room filled with more art. He couldn't care less about the pieces hanging on the walls. He keeps thinking about that kiss. 

It was meant to be quick, and he meant to slide his thumb right between the two of you so that your lips wouldn’t touch. But the moment was too quick, and the camera was too bright, and before he knew it, your lips were touching. It was like kissing a flower petal, light and soft, and he craved more. He wanted to kiss you so that you would kiss back with the same passion he felt inside, but he couldn’t do that now, not when everyone was watching. He would take what he could get, even if it was just a small, simple kiss. 

Leaving the cameras, he could see the confusion on your face, and worry settled in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t have done that, not without asking you first, not with cameras taking pictures of your every move, not when the whole world was watching. That's why he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

I’m such an idiot, he thought to himself. 

Calm and frantic battle in his body with each step he takes to you. This room is filled with sculptures on every corner, and smaller paintings hang. The last few people leave the room so that it's just you and Chris. He sees you studying a sculpture of two people holding each other in an embrace. The two mold together with a shared kiss, and what looks to be water made of stone surrounds them. It's quite beautiful, but the person looking at the art piece is even more stunning. His mind screams with the need to feel your lips on his once again, but he forces himself to stand next to you in silence, pretending as if he cares about the art piece in front of him. 

“I’m sorry I keep getting pulled away.” He whispers as he slides next to you. 

“No need to apologize; you're famous, and people want to meet you.” He can tell you’re holding something back. He’s only known you for a few months, but it feels like years to him. 

“Still, I came here with you. I should be at least spending some time with you,” he can’t help but look at you, at the way your features react to his words, the way your chest rises and falls as you breathe, and the way your nails pick at each other. You're holding something back, and it's killing him inside. “Did I-... Did I make you uncomfortable… with that kiss?”

His question physically takes you aback. He's trying to read you, trying to predict what you’ll say next. Everything runs through his mind: you slapping him, you yelling at him, you kissing him-

“No, of course not.” Chris breathes out a sigh. “It's just-” your eyes wander, and his body stiffens…again. “I-” you attempt to say something, “...nothing,” but your mouth shuts, and your attention is back on the sculpture. 

Knowing he didn’t make you uncomfortable eases him, but not knowing what's on your mind makes his mind wander. If he didn’t make you uncomfortable, what could possibly be going on in that pretty head of yours?

“Y/N” Chris grabs hold of your arms to turn you to face him. “Please, tell me what's on your mind, or else I might lose mine.”

You suck in a breath and open your mouth to say something. “I just…” your eyes wander once again, but Chris quickly takes his other hand to caress his thumb over your jaw, bringing your attention back onto him. “I just really want-”

“Bahng! There you are!” a tall man with spikey black hair holds his arms out. His suit blinds the both of you as his sequined suit sparkles in the light.

“Oh my god, I’m going to end up in jail tonight if we don’t get out of here soon.” his comment makes you laugh, and his body melts at the sound. 

I can’t wait till I finally get you alone. 

*****

Hours later, you are finally home, out of that tight dress, and your hair is free. You're relaxing on the couch, watching as the rain carelessly falls out the window. You thought a nice cup of tea would help the cloud of thoughts in your mind, and then you thought the rain would help, but so far, nothing has helped. 

The way Chris spoke earlier replays in your mind like a constant dream. The way he touched you, the way his eyes bored into your soul. You were so close to confessing that you wanted more than just a simple kiss; he made you want more of him. 

Now you're here, dreading if he walks out here and the awkwardness is back up. You both worked so hard to become comfortable with each other, and you don’t want that awkward tension to fill the room again. 

You hear the door creak open, signaling that Chris is out of the shower. He comes out in a pair of sweats and a loose shirt, rubbing a towel over his drenched hair. 

“You’re still up,” he says surprised. 

“Yeah, can’t sleep. Must be leftover adrenaline from tonight.” that's a lie. It's because stupid Chris won't stay out of your stupid mind. 

He nods his head, and you go back to staring blankly out the window. Thick silence, so thick it could be cut with a knife. You could feel the nerve on the end of your skin, and you pray that Chris doesn’t notice. 

“Back at the gala, you were about to say something.” 

You whip your head around, seeming dumbfounded. “Oh, I-” How do I get out of this? “I don’t remember” 

He slumps, looking defeated. “Oh, I see.” The pout on his lips makes your insides turn and ache. What did he want to hear?

“Do you…want to watch a movie?” his innocent question makes you smile. “Sure, I'd like that.” 

***

This was pointless. It's not like you’re actually paying attention to the movie. Your mind is clouded with doubts and thoughts, and Chris just sits there, enjoying the mindless action movie you guys agreed on. 

He’s so focused on what's playing on the screen. His lips are slightly parted, his eyes glow with every loud explosion, and his brows furrow every time a character takes a hit. It’s fun to study him, it's more entertaining than this damn movie….I wonder if all he’s thinking is about the movie.

***

Why the fuck does she keep looking at me? Do I have something on my face? Maybe she can see right through me and tell that I’ve been thinking about her? Can girls do that?

It is taking every bit of will he has left in his body for Chris to keep looking at this damn movie. He stopped paying attention halfway through it because he got a glimpse of your bare thigh. You're wearing shorts again, and it might actually kill him this time. God, he wants to touch you so badly. He wants to rake his hands through your thighs. He wants you to pull his hair and guide him over your body. He wants you to show him what makes you scream, and then he wants to make you scream his name-

“Do you know what's going on? Because I think I’m lost.” 

Chris snaps his head in your direction…shit.

“Uhh…well…you see the guy he… yea, I haven’t really been paying that much attention,” he breathes out a sigh of defeat. 

“Really! You looked like you were really paying attention.” if only you knew. “I guess I just kind of zoned out,” he scratches the back of his head, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

“What were you thinking about?” your voice sounds so hopeful, but he can’t stop thinking about you running out of the apartment the second he confesses. 

“Oh…nothing” 

“Oh,” you went from hopeful to disappointment with a single word, and it made his chest ache. You both sit in silence for a beat too long, watching the movie unfold before you. 

He can’t bear the silence. It feels like that first week all over again, and it's killing him inside. “Looks like the storm is passing pretty quickly.”

Your head snaps to him with a quirked eyebrow. You stare at his unphased face for what feels like an eternity…then…The room fills with your laughter. “You want to talk about the weather?”

“Uhh”

More sounds of laughter crowd the room. “What?” he's in utter shock. What could possibly be so funny right now?

“Nothing. Yes, it does look like it's dying down,” but it’s laced with sarcasm; anyone can hear it, Chris, most of all. 

His hooded eyes look down at you with a ‘serious’ look. “What?” Your hands are thrown up in surrender. 

“Nothing,” he matches with the same tone.

He’s met with your giggles. The light shift of the mood makes his smile wide, and finally, he’s at ease. Finally, you smile again, and the awkward tension dissipates. 

Your body stretches in a long yawn, and in doing so, it inches closer to Chris. Over time, your head falls onto Chris’s shoulder, relaxing into his warmth. 

Chris’s body is on fire. Every nerve and sense is hyper-aware of your every move; it's like he can feel you without the barrier of his clothes. 

His eyes look down, watching you rest in his comfort. He feels like a teenager again, experiencing his first crush. He can feel butterflies in his stomach, and his palms begin to sweat. No one has ever made him feel this nervous.

Your shirt dips down just below the swell of your breasts, and he curses at himself for even looking. He hates the fact that your body has so much control over him, but he loves it at the same time. He thinks about all the ways your body could torture him. Your body wrapped in fragile lingerie that he could rip with his teeth, your naked body underneath him, fully exposed for him-

“Oh my god.” 

You’re both startled apart from each other. Chris only takes a minute to follow your shocked eyes down to the prominent tent forming at his pants. 

Shit.

“I- um,” Chris scrambles to find a pillow or blanket to cover his bulge. How could this happen now of all times? He expects to hear your screams, your words of disgust, or something that results in him leaving the apartment with his head hung low in shame. But more laughter echoes around the room, and he sees you turned over, holding your belly with giggles.  

“I would apologize, but it looks like you're enjoying my embarrassment.” 

“It's not that,” your voice cracks with laughs. “I just was surprised. I know you can’t control it.” more laughter fills the room. If only you weren’t laughing at his embarrassment, he would actually enjoy hearing your giggles. 

“I have more control than that,” Chris scoffs. 

“Then what is it?” You look at him, your smile still shining, while his fades. This is his chance; it's now or never. You could either lock yourself in your room, and he could never see you again, or he could be the happiest man alive. 

He takes a deep breath. “I was thinking about…our kiss”. 

***

You wish you could say you had an immediate reaction, that you jumped into his arms the second he mentioned you, but you were dumbstruck. Your eyes were shot, and your lips parted in a silent gasp. 

“I guess it was a good kiss.” Chris shrugged, his smile mimicking a quiet laugh. 

“It was.” You recall the memory, and instinctively, you wet your lips. Chris holds your gaze, not letting you run or cower away again. 

The two of you are engaged in a silent battle, each waiting for the other to give in and address the unspoken tension between you. However, you refuse to be the first to make a move, unwilling to risk misinterpreting the situation.

Your breathing becomes shallow and heavy, “I should go to bed,” but you have no intention of moving. Rather than moving, you stay perfectly still, gazing at Chris, shifting your gaze from his eyes to his lips.

Chris inches closer, leaning into you. “Tell me you feel nothing, and I will walk away.” 

Another moment of silence settles in the air. His espresso eyes contrast with his pale skin, entrapping you, unable to move, speak, or breathe. His hand comes up to caress your cheek and moves a strand of hair away from your face. “Tell me you don’t feel what I feel,” he says.

Your breath is thick and trapped, and words never make it past your lips. All you can do is communicate with your eyes and beg for him to understand your silence. “I need you to tell me, baby”.

Already breathy and chest heaving with need, you nod your head rapidly and stutter out a “yes.” 

Within seconds, Chris's lips are on yours. It's nothing like the previous kiss you shared; this one is hungry, desperate, and has shallow breaths stolen when your lips part but immediately back as if they have been deprived and starved.  

His hands cup your face, deepening the kiss. You can feel his tongue silently ask permission, sliding along your bottom lip. You steal another breath, which Chris takes as an opportunity to push his tongue past the barrier of your lips. He swallows your pleasurable moans as your hands tug and pull him closer to your body. 

Heat radiates off of him like lust steaming off his body, and you can feel his muscles tense when you rake your hands over his clothes, begging him to remove his shirt.

Chris uses his body weight to push your back flat against the couch; he lodges his leg between your thighs, spreading your legs and pressing against your core. The sudden tension makes you groan into Chris’s mouth, which he devours.  

He keeps the tension on your core, slightly rubbing his thigh against it every now and again. When his hands move down, one to grasp you by your hip and another to fondle your breast is when you separate your lips to release the sudden gasp, all the while, you arch your back.

His grip on your hip tightens, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” his words rasp into your ear, sending shockwaves down every nerve in your body.  

His hands hold you close to his body, and all the while, his eyes wander. Words blend into moans and whimpers as Chris keeps your burning core stimulated with his thigh. “How do you want it, baby?” His voice buzzes in your ear, and it shoots straight to your gut, making you needy and excited for more. 

“Tell me what you want.” your hands shoot into Chris’s hair, tugging and angling his head so you can kiss him again. You just want him, all of him. With your tongue plunged into his mouth, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His thigh moves so his hips join with yours, pushing his growing bulge against your thumping core.

Your lips part and open to say something, but Chris adds more pressure to his hips, pushing his erection against you. What you were going to say dies on your tongue, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. “I want you so bad,” he growls, hiding his rosy cheeks in the crook of your neck. His hips find a slow rhythm, grinding both your clothed cores against each other. 

“Chris,” you moan his name, and you can feel his groin twitch against his pants. Your positive Chris can smell your arousal dripping from you. The wet spot thats gathered at the base of your panties is evidence of it. 

“Please,” you whimper, desperate for more of him. He hums in your shoulder before biting the flesh. The sudden pain causes your face to contort, but it quickly subsides as you feel Chris’s tongue soothing the mark, leaving a beautiful love bite behind.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot” Your mind is fuzzy with how Chris is grinding his erection into you. 

Without warning, Chris pulls his body up, only to crawl down between your legs. He makes quick work of ridding your lower clothing. Leaving you bare in front of him. Your pussy clenches from his intense stare, and your face heats when he realizes it. “What? Do I make you nervous when I stare?”

You can feel the heat of his breath against your folds. It makes you clench around nothing…and he smirks at the sight. 

Chris starts to kiss your thighs, inching closer to your dripping pussy. Finally, relief washes over you as Chris wets your lips with his tongue. Your hand goes back into Chris’s hair, tugging him closer. 

You bite your lip, trying to keep your moans quiet as his wet muscle swirls around your swollen bundle of nerves. You hold back your screams of pleasure, not willing just yet to let him hear you. 

“Are you holding back?” Chris peaks up from between your legs. Your hips follow him, begging for him to continue. You both meet eyes, and he can tell you’ve been holding back your screams from him. “Don’t. I want to hear you. I want the neighbors to know my name,” and with that, he dives back between your legs, attacking your clit like there is no tomorrow. 

You scream his name in pleasure, grinding your hips onto him. Chris works in tandem in sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue inside your walls. 

Within minutes your coating his chin with your juices and moaning at the relief in your body. Your orgasm washes over you, but that doesn’t stop Chris. He loves the way your pussy tastes. The sweetness he can feel on his tongue electrifies his whole body. 

“Chris, I- ahg -wait, I can’t” Chris keeps his previous pace, sucking your clit and looping his tongue inside your folds. 

“Come for me, baby. You’ve done so well.” Chris slides his middle finger past your wet folds, curling it up so it hits the gummy spot that makes you see stars. Your legs begin to shake, and your whole body convulses at the added feeling. 

“Chris!” you scream his name as your second orgasm squirts onto his shirt. Your legs shut close, and Chris removes himself from between them. He jumps up to kiss your forehead and lips gently. “You did so well for me, baby. I’ve got you,” he coos softly. 

One of his hands rubs soft circles on your hips, biding them open again. The ache of overstimulation subsides and your legs begin to open again. Chris kisses your forehead gently one last time, a smirk clear on his face. 

 Lost in lust, you tug off his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs and defined body. Your eyes go wide, but Chris takes your lips in a hurried kiss. You rake your hand down his pecks to his abs, stopping just before where his V-line meets the button of his pants. You break the kiss to find that his face is contorted to what looks like pain. Worry shoots through you, but Chris snaps his eyes open and cages you below him, his arms on either side of your head, “no one has ever touched me like that.” he breathes…” Do it again.”

***

You both tugged at each other, prying more clothes off your bodies and ending up in your current position. You straddling his lap, rubbing your bare cunt against his cock.

Logic and reason left your mind when Chris had you quivering over his tongue. “Y/N, shouldn’t we-” 

But you didn’t want to wait another second. You lifted your lips to guide your folds onto Chris’s waiting cock. You both groan at the pleasure. 

Immediately, you start swirling your hips, chasing that pleasure. “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you clenched at his words. You cling to his words. You hope those words are true, even after this night, after this whole contract thing is over. You don’t want this to end. You hug yourself close to his body, grasping his shoulders, and you can tell by the way he holds you close that he’s thinking the same thoughts as you. 

You lift your hips slowly only to let yourself settle back down onto his cock. You both relish the feeling, not wanting it to be over too soon; You set a measured pace. 

You can see the sweat trickle down Chris’s forehead. His hands claw the flesh of your ass, willing himself not to ram into you. The last thing he wants is for this to end too quickly, and he’ll be damned if he comes before you do. 

A mixture of moans and grunts fills the room. Your hips have a mind of their own as they begin to grind into him at a more steady pace. Your nails leave red marks on his shoulders, “I want to see you, want to watch you come,” Chris grunts out. 

Something within you snaps. You don’t know if it was his words or the growing knot twisting inside you, but with his words, you lift your hips and slam down onto his cock. You set a brutal pace, bousing on top of him. Chris grinds his teeth but wills his eyes open so he can watch your perfect tits bounce. 

You are both lost in the pleasure of each other, and both of you try to chase your release. Chris’s hands grip your waist like a vice, helping you lift your hips in tandem with his thrusts. 

“God, you feel so fucking good.” His thrusts become frantic, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix perfectly. With a few more final thrusts into you, you were coming undone onto his cock. Screaming his name and leaving scratch marks against his abs. 

His cock plunged desperately in and out of your spasming, creaming cunt, using your body shamelessly for his own euphoric release. The harsh sounds of skin slapping skin and shattered moans and muffled curses echoed off the walls as Chris pushed his cock into you and coated your inner walls white. 

You both stilled, with heavy and shaky breathing being the only forms of communication you could muster. 

You couldn’t move, could hardly breathe, and your mind was nothing but a pile of mush. It was once you opened your eyes and realized you had been moved, cleaned, and tucked into your own bed did you realize that you passed out in Chris’s arms. 

You expected to wake up in his arms, but he was nowhere to be seen. You were left in your own room, alone and cold. 

“Chris?” you called, hoping what you experienced wasn’t a dream, that it was real. It sure felt real. Your legs and pussy were still sore just thinking about it. 

Worry begins to settle in. What if you did imagine all of it? What if you're back to a feeling that's all too familiar, with uncomfortable tension that sends shivers down your spine and nights filled with longing for what could have been?

“Look who’s finally up.” You turned your head to your door frame, where Chris was holding a bag of food in one hand. 

You could feel your shoulders relax, “what, you didn’t think I dish you after one night, did you?” he came closer, setting the bag to the side. 

“No, just got me worried.” Chan comes brings his hand up to caress your cheek and you lean into his touch. 

*Chris*

You both knew what was coming. Now that the tension has spoken for itself, what does that mean for the both of you?

Chris sits himself on the edge of your bed, taking a breath for what he’s about to say, but you speak first. 

“What does this mean now? Is the contract still in place?” 

His ears perk up and his eyes widen. He wasn’t about to let you go, no now, not ever. “I’ll be honest. I like you… a lot.” a chuckle escapes him “and I don’t want this to be the end. But I also don’t want to push you, if you don’t want the same.-”

“I do” you interrupt him. Your cheeks flush with that pretty pink that makes him melt and your smile shines high which makes his chest fill with a warmth he’s never felt before. 

“You do?”

“I like you too, I wouldn’t have done what we did if I didn’t. And honestly, I could give two shits about the contract right now” you chuckle with him. 

“Then how about this…” he twists his body so he can comfortably face you and holds out his hand for you to shake, “a new contract, physically binding.” he smiles, but suddenly changes his tone to a more serious one, “I promise to make you laugh, I promise to piss the hell out of you, but make it up to you, to make you smile, to bug the hell out of you, and I promise that as long as I call you mine, I will love you with all of me.”

Your smile stretches miles and you shake his hand. With heartfelt sincerity, you speak, “I promise to always find ways to bring a smile to your face and fill the air with laughter. I promise to make mistakes, but find ways for you to forgive me, I also promise to love every part of you even the parts you may seem unlovable.” Your voice is so angelic as if it’s softly whispering into his ear. 

You both share a tender kiss, feeling the warmth of each other's embrace. As your lips meet, a rush of emotions overcomes you, and you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms. The soft touch of your partner's skin against yours creates an intimate and comforting atmosphere. As you lay in bed, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in each other's love. In this moment, you both find solace in the knowledge that no matter what challenges life may present, you have each other to lean on.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [38] - The End

A.N: The last chapter! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful support throughout the story my loves, you're amazing! ❤️

Summary: The heir becomes the boss.

Word Count: 3537

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

The week after you almost died was chaotic, and not even for the reasons you had assumed earlier.

Needless to say, everyone in your life was out for blood, but the problem was that there was a specific lack of people to take revenge on.

“Do you think it’ll go back to how it used to be?” you asked Bucky as you turned your head to inspect your nose in the hallway mirror while he kept pacing in the living room, gritting his teeth while he typed something into his phone.

“We should kill every person who worked for Ian.”

“Because Sarah said it would go back to normal but it doesn’t feel like it.”

“I bet Ryan can give us a list, and—”

“Ryan already killed his inner circle that night.”

“There has to be some people left,” Bucky insisted and you heaved a sigh.

“Bucky, you can’t kill people just because they worked for Ian,” you said. “Most of them switched sides already—”

“That’s not enough, and once a traitor always a traitor.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way to him to stop his pacing, cupping his cheek. He took a deep breath, his blue eyes locked in yours as he clenched his jaw like he was trying to keep it together.

“Buck.”

“They hurt you.”

“Not really, the ones who hurt me are dead,” you said. “I killed one of them, Ryan killed the rest.”

“I need to do something,” he insisted through his teeth. “I…it’s bad enough that I let you get hurt—”

“You didn’t let me get hurt.”

“I was supposed to protect you,” he said. “Not…not you or Ryan.”

“I’ll let the next person who tries to kill me know about that.”

“Charm.”

“Bucky,” you said with a small laugh. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Your nose is broken,” he reminded you. “There are stitches on your head.”

“Both of those things are temporary,” you assured him. “Seriously. Besides I…you know, it’ll be a good look for the sit down tomorrow night. I’ll look badass.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you both turned your heads when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you called out and the front door opened before Ryan stepped into the apartment, his hands clasped behind him, his back completely straight in the perfect soldier pose.

“Ma’am,” he said. “Mr. Barnes.”

“Ryan, hi!” you said. “You’re back already?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said before stealing a look at Bucky and you waved a hand in the air.

“You can say whatever you want to say in front of Bucky.”

“When I asked to have the morning off, I took the liberty of visiting Mr. Ian’s warehouse,” Ryan said, making you tilt your head.

“He had a warehouse?”

“Yes ma’am. I wanted to make sure we have cleaned out everyone who might still support him or pose a threat to you, so…” he trailed off and pulled out a flash drive from his pocket, extending his hand. You took it from him, then heaved a sigh.

“Anyone we know?”

“I didn’t check what’s inside, ma’am,” he said. “The only reason why I didn’t say where I was going was because I wasn’t sure if there was anything inside that warehouse, but there was. We found it in the safe.”

“We?” Bucky repeated and Ryan nodded.

“One of my trusted men, sir, he can crack open any case.”

You pressed your lips together as you plugged the drive into your laptop, then clicked on the first file and let out a breath, staring at the screen.

“That fucker…” you murmured. “Ah. Well now it makes sense.”

“What?” Bucky asked and you licked your lips.

“Check out the name here.”

Bucky came closer to see the screen, then raised his brows.

“Should’ve known,” he muttered. “If there was going to be anyone HYDRA had its claws in, it’d be Ian.”

“I didn’t think he was this big of an idiot.”

“Did you know he was making deals with HYDRA?” Bucky asked Ryan who shook his head.

“No sir, I wasn’t allowed in most of the meetings. Mrs. Barnes saw it before.”

“Yeah, he kept him outside,” you said. “Figures. Oh, my dad will hate this.”

“Will you tell the others?”

You paused for a moment, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “This stays in the family—that includes you as well, Ryan.”

Ryan bowed slightly. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Will you give us a moment please?” you asked him and he nodded, then walked out of the room. You turned to Bucky, tapping your fingertips on the kitchen island.

“This is how they had all those attacks on everyone’s territory—everyone’s but ours,” you told him. “That’s how Ian knew it wasn’t HYDRA, but us.”

“I guess he’s lucky you killed him already,” Bucky said. “This is betrayal. People would be racing each other to kill him.”

“Working with HYDRA though?” you insisted. “That doesn’t just mean betraying others, it means betraying the family. Forget the other bosses, my dad would kill him if he heard about this.”

Bucky grinned. “That argument should come in handy. This afternoon.”

You shook your head.

“I am not looking forward to that,” you murmured. “Especially with my aunt there.”

“She’s still here?”

“She’s leaving the city today, apparently,” you said. “I doubt she’ll go without giving me a piece of her mind first.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No,” you said. “You have your own stuff for preparation for tomorrow, to—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he cut you off. “There won’t be anyone against you being there, we already know that.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to make sure.”

He nodded his head and came closer to carefully kiss you on the top of your head while you pocketed the flash drive, then looked up at him with a small grin.

“Seriously, how bad do I look?” you asked him and he let out a chuckle.

“You look breathtaking as usual, baby.”

“You’re such a liar,” you said with a small push to his arm and he caught your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m serious. Broken nose or not, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen my whole life.”

You could feel a smile curling your lips.

“And not fucking you until you get better will be torture,” Bucky added, making you scoff a laugh.

“So romantic.”

“Only for you,” he played along and slapped your butt. “Come on. We both have things to do, boss.”

“Aw I can get used to that,” you said, still grinning, then walked out of the apartment. Ryan was already waiting for you by the entrance, and straightened his back as soon as he saw you.

“Ma’am.”

“Let’s go pay a visit to my dear father,” you said and walked to the elevator with him following you.

                                               *

Your father had been furious when he saw you at the hospital, so much that you thought he would’ve killed Ian if you hadn’t.

Well, technically Bucky would kill Ian before him but…

So you knew he was going to be happy to see you but you weren’t so sure if the feeling was gonna last when he heard what you were going to say to him.

Your aunt was on her way out, loading her suitcases to the car when your car pulled over in front of the house and you heaved a sigh, then gritted your teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t see this conversation coming, yet that did nothing to put you at ease.

“Here we go,” you murmured as the driver opened your door for you and you stepped out, your aunt gritting her teeth the moment she saw you.

“Auntie,” you said and she held up a hand, gesturing you to be silent.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t call me that.”

“Is father inside?”

“You’re a monster,” she spat and you pursed your lips together.

“He was going to kill me,” you told her. “You know the rules, and so did he. Don’t blame me if he was too stupid to win.”

She eyed you up and down, making Ryan take a step closer but you motioned at him to stop.

“It’s fine Ryan, thank you,” you told him before your aunt let out a hysterical laugh.

“I see you surround yourself with traitors already.”

“Ryan is my right hand auntie, you need to respect him,” you told her, making Ryan give you a proud smile before his expression turned stony again upon turning to look at your aunt.

“I do hope you and Bucky have a son,” your aunt said through her teeth. “Because trust me, I will take him away from you.”

You managed to keep your expression completely calm despite the small shudder running down your spine.

“You can try,” you told her and she scoffed, then got into the car and slammed the door. You shook your head slightly, climbing the stairs to walk through the front door.

“I apologize on her behalf, Ryan,” you told him and he shook his head.

“Don’t, ma’am,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for. She’s a mother, it’s normal that she’s angry at me.”

“Well if my mother were here, she would tear her apart for what her son tried to do,” you muttered as you stopped by the door to your father’s office. The men waiting there nodded at you and you knocked on the door, then peeked your head in.

“Dad?”

“Oh sweetheart, come in!” he said, standing up from his seat. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Good things I hope,” you muttered, letting him kiss your cheek before you sat down on the armchair across from his desk. He filled you a glass of whiskey and put it in front of you, then filled his glass as well and went behind his desk to sit down.

“Any word on that traitorous bastard?”

“Ethan?” you said. “Not yet but any day now. We know he’s not in Chicago, a couple of Bucky’s men are already waiting for him at his hometown and…” you trailed off. “It’s honestly just a matter of who will get him first, you or Bucky or Rhett.”

“Do they know not to kill him yet?”

You grinned. “Oh trust me. Both Bucky and Rhett have a lot of…creative ideas.”

“So do I,” your father murmured and you pulled out the flash drive from your pocket.

“Speaking of traitors,” you said, “You might want to know Ian was working with HYDRA.”

Your father stared at you for a couple of seconds in silence. “What?”

“That’s how they got in,” you said. “And that’s why our territory was never attacked and everyone else’s was.”

“Our territory was attacked.”

“Not by HYDRA.”

“We don’t—” he started, then raised his brows, heaving a deep sigh. “You.”

“Well Ian is dead now so it doesn’t really matter,” you said. “But yeah.”

“I asked you and you said no.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I didn’t exactly have leverage yet, nor had I proven myself. I will use the names in the file to track them down, I figured you wouldn’t want anyone else to get involved, especially the other bosses.”

“You thought right,” he said. “Especially the sit down tomorrow…”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” you said, your heart beating in your ears and he pulled his brows together, then scoffed a laugh.

“Sweetheart, obviously I will name you my heir tomorrow.”

You took a sip of the whiskey, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah I figured you’d say that,” you said. “That’s the problem.”

“The problem?”

“I didn’t almost die just so that you can name me your heir,” you said, looking him in the eye. “That’s not how it works. You know how cage fight works, I’ve been through worse. Being named heir is not going to be enough.”

He frowned at you as if he was confused before a look of realization dawned on his face and he leaned back on his seat, his eyes locked in yours.

“Is this a hostile takeover?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Doesn’t have to be hostile.”

A silence fell upon the room while he stared at you, then let out a breath.

“And you think you’re ready?”

“I know I am.”

“Just out of curiosity,” he said. “What would happen if I refused?”

“You can refuse,” you said, your voice completely calm. “But it’s not going to change anything. I have the support from other bosses, I have proven myself and your latest choice of heir fucked over everyone, which could backfire on you. So, I’m sitting at the head of that table tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

An impressed smile curled his lips before he heaved a sigh, then stood up and opened up his arms.

“Come here,” he said, making you frown.

“If you’re planning on stabbing me father—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, come here,” he said and you got up from the armchair, then stepped into his embrace. He hugged you tight, then pressed a kiss on your hair and pulled back to look at you better.

“My little girl all grown up to threaten me,” he said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean I’d rather not, to be honest with you,” you muttered. “I’m just saying, there’s family and there’s business. I’m threatening the former boss right now, not my father.”

He hummed, still smiling softly.

“You have one thing right, you have proven yourself, over and over again,” he said. “Even before that bastard pulled a gun on you. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner, Y/N. That right there was exactly what I was trying to protect you from.”

“Yeah, protecting me from business,” you said. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t have let him take it from me, dad. One of us was going to end up dead either way.”

That made him clench his jaw. “I didn’t think he’d have the guts to do that to you,” he said. “That will be on my conscience forever.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said. “I mean yeah you fucked up but you know, there’s no one who doesn’t take me seriously in the business after that whole fight. I doubt it’d have the same impact if you handed it to me, so…it’ll work in my favor.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“My father has nothing to worry about,” you told him. “And the former boss is paying for that mistake with me replacing him. Hostile takeover and all that.”

He let out a chuckle, then hugged you again.

“Perhaps I’ll buy another boat,” he said. “I should ask George what he does with all the time he has in retirement.”

A laugh escaped from you and you held up your hands. “Hey, if you want to be a cliché, I can’t stop you,” you said and checked your wristwatch. “I need to go and meet Bucky, we’re having lunch.”

“Alright,” he said. “Tell him I said hi.”

“Of course,” you said and kissed him on the cheek, then walked to the door before turning to look at him. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not making this harder than it should be,” you told him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Well,” he said. “You’re the head of the family business now. It’s your rules, the rest will follow your orders. Including the former boss.”

You let a smile curl your lips, then walked out of the office and passed through the hallway to step outside, your heels echoing on the marble floor.  

                                              *

There had been numerous sit downs at this place but this was the first one that you would attend as a boss, so needless to say you were way too impatient.

Ever since you had stepped a foot in your father’s house, you couldn’t stop tapping your foot. The guests were beginning to arrive one by one, and you desperately needed a drink but you knew you had to keep a completely clear head so you couldn’t exactly drink what the rest were drinking.

“Here,” Bucky said, touching the small of your back with one hand while giving you a glass of water with the other.

“Thank you,” you said and he pressed a kiss on your temple, making you frown and pull back. “Nope.”

“What?”

“This is a work meeting,” you told him, nodding at Clint and Natasha by the corner of the living room while Tony talked to your father and Bucky frowned.

“They already know we’re married, Charm.”

“Well we can’t be too lovey-dovey!” you whispered through your teeth and he chuckled.

“Babe, it’s going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll do great, I promise.”

“Right?” you felt the need to ask and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I love you, you know that right?” you asked and Bucky smirked.

“I love you too,” he said. “And you’re not going to war. It’s your first meeting as a boss, but it is still a meeting.”

You nodded your head, taking a huge sip of your water and turned your head when you heard the familiar chatter. Sarah and Becca walked into the living room, making your jaw drop.

“Hey,” Becca said as soon as she reached you. “Girl talk Buck, beat it.”

“Nice to see you too,” Bucky told her with a roll of his eyes, then turned to Sarah. “Hey.”

“Hi Bucky. Sam and Steve are in the hallway.”

“Great,” he said and walked away from you. You pulled Sarah into a hug, then pulled back to hug Becca.

“Oh my God,” you said. “What are you both doing here?”

“Well it’s your first day on the job,” Becca said. “You know, emotional support.”

“What she said,” Sarah said. “And I figured you’d be nervous, so…”

“I was,” you said with a smile. “Guys, you’re amazing.”

“I even brought a cactus,” Becca said. “Apparently that’s what people get people when they start jobs, who knew?”

“They usually get them flowers, Becca,” Sarah said and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“I haven't worked a day in my life in case you guys forgot,” she said. “Oh and Leila said ‘kick everyone’s ass’.”

“Tell her I said thank you,” you said and took a deep breath. “It’ll go well, right?”

“It’ll go great,” Sarah said, lifting your chin a bit to check your nose from the side. “It is healing nicely. The stitches too.”

“Thanks to my awesome doctor,” you said with a smile and Becca looked around.

“Your bitch of an aunt isn’t here then?”

“Nope,” you said. “She left earlier.”

“Without making a scene?” Sarah asked, disbelief apparent in her tone and you shook your head.

“Of course not,” you said. “She…she told me something.”

“What?”

“That she hopes Bucky and I have a son,” you said. “So that she can take him away from me, the same way I took Ian away from her.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and Becca raised a brow.

“Oh please,” she said. “She does know that when Bucky and you have a child, that child will be like, the most protected heir in the entire world, right?”

“I guess,” you said and Sarah frowned.

“You can’t let that get to you,” she said and you shook your head again.

“I’m not,” you said. “That’s not it.”

Becca pulled back slightly, then eyed the water glass in your hand.

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” she said, making your eyes widen.

“No!” you said. “No, I’m just not drinking because I’m trying to keep my head clear, it’s my first meeting with everyone else as a boss—no, I’m just worried I guess.”

“I agree with Becca,” Sarah said. “First of all, that child will be the most protected heir in the city, with your people and Bucky’s people. Second of all, who’s going to take your aunt seriously?”

“No one,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Yeah. Like I said, I’m just worried.”

“Don’t be—” Sarah started but you heard Ryan’s voice by the door.

“The meeting room is ready,” he said and everyone walked out of the living room one by one. Your father gave you a soft smile and you smiled at him back, then turned to Sarah and Becca.

“Wish me luck.”

“You got this,” Sarah said and Becca squeezed your hand.

“You were born for this,” she told you. “Go get ‘em tiger.”

You let out a breath, then made your way out of the living room to the meeting room before you stepped inside, your heart beating in your ears. Bucky was walking to his own seat and you brushed your hand against his as subtly as you could while you walked past him. He winked at you before sitting down as well, making you bite back a smile.

You got this.

Becca was right. You were born for this.

You took your seat at the head of the table, Ryan approaching to place a file in front of you and you cleared your throat, then lifted your head to look at everyone around the table.

“So,” you said, your voice completely calm. “Shall we begin?”

The End.

[thedensworld]

Logical Project | C.Sc

Genre: fluff, humour, backstreet au

Summary: Illogical project dismissed! Now, Seungcheol had to face a new problem, Jiyeon and Jeonghan.

Read the first part here

Tomorrow is my first day working at a new place! Wish me luck (and won't get any treatment like Y/n)

“That’s it?” Seungcheol’s voice cut through the silence, snapping you out of the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your head. You blinked up at him, taken aback by the question. That’s it? What else was there to say when someone just confessed their feelings out of nowhere?

Do a cartwheel?

Definitely not.

“Do you… want to come inside?” The words slipped out before you could stop yourself.

Wait, what? Panic flared in your chest. You mentally slapped yourself. Why did you say that? You glanced back at your apartment, suddenly remembering the chaotic mess you’d left behind. The dishes were still piled up in the sink, and cooking equipment was strewn across the kitchen counter from your failed attempt to make breakfast earlier. The last thing Seungcheol needed to see after baring his soul was the state of your post-breakdown kitchen.

“I—I mean,” you stammered, desperate to recover from your blunder. “We could go to a nearby café instead… Or—if you’re more comfortable—we can talk in my… living room?” You cringed inwardly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you realized you’d just invited him inside again. Twice. As if you were trying to send some sort of signal.

Get it together, Y/N.

“Sure,” Seungcheol replied with a casual nod, as if you hadn’t just awkwardly fumbled your way through an invitation to your personal space. He didn’t look the least bit phased by your internal meltdown.

“Uh—great!” You cleared your throat, feeling your face flush. What kind of person invites their boss—well, former boss—into their messy apartment right after he drops a confession like that?

You spun around and led the way back into the building, too afraid to turn around and see the expression on his face. You could only imagine what he must be thinking. Maybe he was silently judging the disarray of your life, or worse—contemplating running for the hills before he got dragged into your chaos.

Is this really okay? you wondered as you fumbled with your keys, forcing yourself to unlock the door to your apartment. When the door swung open, you hesitated, peering into the living room as if expecting to find an even bigger mess than you remembered.

“So… I didn’t exactly get around to cleaning up,” you mumbled as a way of apology. Seungcheol stepped in beside you, taking in the sight of scattered notebooks and the remnants of an unfinished dinner on the coffee table.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his tone light, as if you’d just invited him into a pristine penthouse suite instead of an apartment that looked like a mild hurricane had swept through. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

You scoffed softly, shaking your head. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure even the couch is giving me a look of judgment right now.”

He chuckled—a deep, genuine sound that took you by surprise. “Well, if the couch starts talking, then I’ll be worried.”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it, and you quickly clamped a hand over your mouth. This entire situation was surreal. Here you were, standing in your barely-presentable living room with the Choi Seungcheol, exchanging banter like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Let’s just… sit,” you suggested weakly, gesturing to the slightly cluttered couch.

You both settled down, the cushions sinking under the weight of unspoken words. Seungcheol leaned back, glancing around your place before his gaze landed on you.

“So… what now?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving your face.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the intensity in his gaze. “I don’t know,” you murmured honestly. “I didn’t really… expect any of this.”

Seungcheol smiled slightly, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his expression. “Me neither.”

You both lapsed into silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. The awkwardness from earlier hadn’t entirely disappeared, but now there was something else—something tentative and hopeful—hovering between you.

No, maybe inviting him in wasn't a good idea after all.

*

Your clothes were neatly pressed, your hair smelled faintly of some overpriced conditioner that probably didn’t work any better than regular shampoo, and your smile? Absolutely radiant. You practically glowed as you approached the front entrance of the towering office building.

This was it. You were back in the workforce, and nothing—absolutely nothing—was going to ruin your mood today.

You swiped your shiny new ID card through the scanner and watched the security gate slide open with a satisfying click. Ah, that sound.

You flashed the security guard a broad smile, even though he looked slightly alarmed by your level of enthusiasm so early in the morning. With a cheerful nod, you made your way to the elevator and squeezed inside with the rush-hour crowd.

As more people piled in, you found yourself gradually nudged to the back of the elevator, squished up against the corner like a sardine in a tin can. You stood there, beaming, as someone’s elbow jabbed into your side, and another person’s backpack thumped against your shoulder.

It doesn’t matter, you told yourself. I’m working again! I have a job! I have an income!

The elevator finally reached your floor, and you stepped out with a polite nod to everyone else crammed in the space. Walking into the office with your head held high, you approached the reception area and introduced yourself.

“Everyone, please meet Ji Y/N,” Mr. Kim, your supervisor, motioning toward you with a grand flourish that felt a bit too theatrical. “She’ll be joining us as the new staff.”

You turned to the team, offering them your best smile and a small wave. A few people returned the gesture, while others exchanged knowing looks.

“It’s nice to meet you all. I’m excited to work with everyone,” you said brightly, trying not to sound too eager. But for some reason, the room was oddly quiet.

Just then, Mr. Kim cleared his throat and continued, “Oh, and, uh, a quick note: I think it’s fair to mention that Ms. Ji is… well, she’s related to our CEO.”

A murmur of recognition rippled through the group, and you suddenly found yourself at the center of what felt like a mini gossip fest.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, you chanted internally, feeling your earlier excitement waver. You blinked at Mr. Kim, a polite, confused smile plastered on your face as you struggled to process what he’d just said.

“Related?” someone whispered. “Isn’t that a bit of an understatement?”

“She’s the CEO’s sister,” another voice added helpfully.

Well, that’s one way to let the cat out of the bag.

You forced a laugh, though it sounded more like a strangled cough. “Yes, well… It’s not really—”

But the damage was done. The team’s expressions shifted from curious to knowing, and a few eyebrows arched in interest.

“So, you’re our boss’s little sister, huh?” one of them asked, his tone light but laced with something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Must be nice to have connections,” someone else muttered, though it was low enough that you could pretend not to hear it.

You opened your mouth to respond but couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t sound defensive or self-deprecating.

“Um, yeah,” you managed awkwardly, shooting a glance at Mr. Kim, who looked like he was one second away from shrinking into the carpet. “I just… I’m really looking forward to contributing and learning, and—”

“—and working for your brother?” another voice teased, and you nearly groaned out loud.

You swallowed hard, keeping that tight smile in place as you nodded. “Exactly! Working… like, all of you. Just… like you all are.”

Mr. Kim let out a nervous chuckle. “Alright, everyone. Let’s welcome Ms. Ji and give her some space to settle in. I’m sure she’s eager to get started.”

As you turned to follow Mr. Kim to your desk, you tried to shake off the lingering embarrassment. You took a deep breath, pasting your earlier smile back on. So what if they know? It doesn’t matter! You’re here to work, and that’s what matters!

*

You stepped out of the office building with a small sigh of relief. It had been a long day—no, scratch that—an agonizingly long day of trying to prove yourself to people who were convinced you were only there because of your brother.

Your gaze landed on the sleek black car parked discreetly at the end of the street. The sight of it made you smile, if only for a moment, before you quickened your pace and slipped into the passenger seat.

As soon as the door closed, you sank back into the leather seat, letting out a dramatic sigh. Seungcheol glanced over from the driver’s seat, his expression a mix of amusement and concern as he watched you pout.

“You look absolutely exhausted,” he remarked softly. His eyes traced your features—the drooping eyelids, the slight frown, the way your lips were pressed into a tight line. All in stark contrast to the cheerful, lively voice note you’d sent him that morning, declaring how excited you were for your first official day on the job.

“Drive before my brother sees your car.” Your voice came out grumbly, the weariness apparent as you glanced around.

Seungcheol chuckled softly. “Alright, princess,” he murmured, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips as he turned the ignition.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye as he pulled out into the street, the soft hum of the car filling the silence between you.

“Bad day?” he asked gently, not pushing, just offering you a chance to vent if you needed to.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest like a sulking child. “More like an ‘everybody’s-still-staring-at-me-like-I’m-a-spoiled-brat-who-got-hired-because-of-my-brother’ day.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow,“I’m sure you did great,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You always do.”

You gave him a sideways glance, your lips twitching slightly. “That’s easy for you to say, Mr. CEO. You don’t have to deal with your brother’s employees eyeing you like you’re about to break into a spoiled tantrum every time you say something.”

He let out a low laugh, the sound wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. “True, but I do know how hard you work, Y/N. You don’t need to prove yourself to them. They’ll see it eventually.”

His confidence in you was touching, but it only made you sigh. “Yeah, well, it’d be a lot easier if a certain someone hadn’t barged into the office, grinning like a Cheshire cat and announcing to everyone that I was his precious little sister.”

Seungcheol’s grin widened as he glanced at you again. “Jeonghan really said that?”

“Basically, yes,” you muttered, the memory of your brother’s teasing smile flashing through your mind. “He might as well have held up a giant banner saying, ‘She’s here because of me, everyone!’”

Seungcheol snickered, shaking his head slightly. “Your brother does have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Understatement of the century,” you grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at your lips now.

Silence settled between you, a comfortable one this time. The kind that only came when you were with someone who knew you well enough not to fill the quiet with meaningless chatter.

It had been like this between you and Seungcheol ever since he’d shown up at your apartment that night and confessed—awkward and unexpected, but somehow, so undeniably right. From there, things had developed naturally. Texts became calls, calls became late-night coffee runs, and soon, he was sneaking you out for lunches and dinners, or showing up at your place just to talk.

But your brother? He still had no idea. And considering how protective Jeonghan was, he’d probably lock you in a tower if he knew you were dating his best friend.

“What are you thinking about?” Seungcheol’s voice broke through your thoughts, his eyes glancing at you with that familiar, gentle look that always made your heart flutter.

“Just… us,” you admitted quietly, resting your head against the seat as you looked at him. “I like this. Being with you like this. Even if we have to keep it a secret.”

Seungcheol’s gaze softened, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he turned down a quieter road, away from the main streets. “I like it too. More than I thought I would, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean you didn’t expect to like sneaking around with me?”

“Not exactly what I meant,” he replied with a laugh. “But I didn’t expect to feel this… happy. With you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart skip a beat. You looked at him for a long moment, taking in the way his hair fell softly over his forehead, the way his jaw tightened slightly whenever he was thinking hard about something.

“Cheol…” you began, but the words died in your throat. What were you supposed to say? That you were falling for him? That you’d fallen long before he’d confessed? That the thought of him made everything else bearable?

Before you could find the right words, Seungcheol slowed the car to a stop. You glanced outside and realized he’d pulled over to a small, quiet park. There was no one else around—just the two of you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I know it’s not easy, keeping this from Jeonghan. But I promise, when the time’s right, we’ll tell him.”

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around your bag. “And what if he doesn’t accept it?”

Seungcheol’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then I’ll keep fighting for us until he does.”

His words hung in the air between you, the weight of them sinking into your heart and settling there.

You smiled then, a real smile this time, and leaned over, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “Alright, Mr. Choi. Let’s see how long we can keep this up before my brother catches on.”

Seungcheol chuckled, his hand reaching over to take yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Challenge accepted, princess.”

*

Seungcheol looked up from his computer screen when his office door swung open without warning. He leaned back in his chair, watching as Jiyeon stormed inside, her steps frantic, shoulders tense. It wasn’t hard to guess who had set her off like this. With a subtle sigh, he shifted his attention fully to her.

“Jiyeon,” he greeted her, his voice calm in contrast to the energy she was emitting. “You look... restless.”

“Restless?” she snapped, stopping right in front of his desk. “More like infuriated!”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, not looking particularly surprised. “I’m guessing this has something to do with Jeonghan?”

Jiyeon’s mouth opened and closed, a mixture of frustration and disbelief flashing across her face. “He just canceled our lunch date—again. No warning, no apology, just a brief message saying he’s busy.” She took a deep breath, and for a moment, Seungcheol thought she might scream. “He’s always busy, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, the corners of his lips lifting into an amused smile. “What did you expect? It’s Jeonghan we’re talking about.”

“Not this!” Jiyeon exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “It’s been two years, Seungcheol. Two years since we got engaged, and not once has he shown even a shred of genuine interest in me. "

Seungcheol listened to Jiyeon ranting on and on about Jeonghan, but he couldn’t help his mind from drifting elsewhere. He kept nodding at the right moments, offering occasional comments when she paused for breath, but a part of him was completely distracted.

“I thought things would change after the accident, you know?” Jiyeon’s voice was strained, on the verge of breaking.

Seungcheol blinked, his gaze refocusing on her face. “Jeonghan… he’s always been good at playing his part, hasn’t he?”

Jiyeon stared at him, her lips tightening. “You’re making it sound like a game, Seungcheol.”

“It’s not a game,” he said softly. “But you know how Jeonghan is. He compartmentalizes things. This engagement was always about business for him, nothing more.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Business… Everything in our lives seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”

Seungcheol didn’t answer. He watched her, a faint furrow forming between his brows. He could see how much the engagement weighed on her, the toll it had taken over the past two years.

Part of him wanted to offer her some comfort, to give her some sort of answer that could make this all easier. But another part—the one that had become more prominent ever since he confessed to you—kept whispering something else. Something selfish.

If Jiyeon and Jeonghan finally called it quits… It would benefit him, wouldn’t it?

It would give Seungcheol the space to focus on his relationship with you without constantly looking over his shoulder.

Because if anyone found out about you and him… Well, the repercussions wouldn’t be small. He knew that better than anyone.

“Why do you keep putting yourself through this?” he asked, his voice softer now, a touch of genuine concern in it. “If it’s hurting you this much, why not just call off the engagement?”

Jiyeon’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Seungcheol knew she was scrutinizing him, searching for any ulterior motives. He kept his expression open, neutral, but inside, his thoughts were spinning.

Did this make him a terrible person? Maybe. But then, wasn’t it Jeonghan’s fault for treating Jiyeon like a mere business obligation in the first place? And wasn’t it Jiyeon’s fault for allowing herself to be strung along like this?

And wasn’t it his right to be a little selfish, after everything?

“Call it off?” Jiyeon echoed, her voice small and disbelieving. “You’ve never been this supportive of me calling it off before. Why the sudden change of heart?”

Seungcheol watched her, feeling the weight of the question. He should have expected this; Jiyeon was sharp—sharper than people often gave her credit for.

He took a deep breath and offered her a small, wry smile. “People change. Perspectives change. You’re my cousin, Jiyeon, and if this engagement is making you miserable, I don’t see the point of dragging it out.”

Jiyeon’s gaze narrowed further, suspicion glimmering in her eyes. “You’ve never cared this much about my happiness before, Seungcheol.”

Ouch. He had to give it to her—she didn’t hold back when she sensed something was off. But Seungcheol didn’t flinch. Instead, he shrugged lightly.

“Maybe I’ve just gotten soft.” He tilted his head slightly, letting a hint of a smile touch his lips. “Or maybe I’ve started to realize how pointless it is to force people to stay in places they don’t belong.”

Jiyeon continued to stare at him, her gaze calculating. “Are you… seeing someone?”

The question hit him harder than he expected, but he managed to keep his face composed.

“Jiyeon, my personal life isn’t what’s important right now.”

“Oh, it is important if you’re seeing someone, and that’s why you’re pushing me to call off my engagement,” she pressed, voice lower now, more intense. “If this is about someone else, then I deserve to know.”

Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head slowly. “It’s not about me,” he murmured. “It’s about you. And what you want, Jiyeon. Jeonghan’s my friend, but you’re also my family. I don’t want you stuck in something that’s not going anywhere, no matter what’s happening in my life.”

There was a flicker of something in Jiyeon’s eyes—hesitation, maybe. Uncertainty. She held his gaze for a long, tense moment, then finally exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly.

“Fine,” she muttered, rubbing her temples as if trying to soothe a headache. “But I’m not done with this conversation.”

Seungcheol’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “I didn’t expect you to be.”

*

You sat across from Jeonghan at the bustling barbecue joint, poking at the sizzling meat on the grill with a pout. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when he texted you about dinner. You’d envisioned fine dining, A5 Wagyu steak, and maybe a glass of an expensive, aged wine. It would have been a perfect way to celebrate one month of officially working at your brother’s company.

Instead, here you were, in a casual barbecue restaurant with loud chatter all around, the smell of grilled meat clinging to your clothes. Though, you had to admit—maybe reluctantly—the food did look good. And Jeonghan had been thoughtful enough to order all your favorites.

“Eat up,” he said, flipping a piece of pork belly onto your plate. “You’ve lost weight.”

You shrugged, choosing to ignore his comment. Of course, you had. You’d been strict about your diet lately. You didn’t want to show up in front of Seungcheol looking like a stuffed dumpling on a random day. But that didn’t mean you were going to deny yourself a good meal tonight. If nothing else, you’d at least get something out of this dinner.

Jeonghan glanced at you, probably noticing your half-hearted expression. “I heard you’ve been doing well at work,” he said, his tone light but watchful.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a look. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

He smiled, unbothered. “Of course. I had to make sure my little sister wasn’t causing trouble for the marketing team.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a bite of the pork belly. Despite your initial annoyance, you couldn’t help but appreciate his support.

“Everything good with you and Jiyeon?” you asked suddenly, steering the conversation away from yourself. It had been months since you last saw Jiyeon ever since the car accident.

Jeonghan’s shoulders tensed slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah… we’re good.”

His words were casual, but you noticed the way his gaze dropped to the grill, avoiding yours. You tilted your head, watching him intently. “The feelings still the same?” you pressed gently, knowing you were treading on delicate ground.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, lifting his eyes slowly. His lips twitched, a shadow of his usual confident smirk appearing and then disappearing just as quickly.

He looked up, meeting your gaze squarely. “Jiyeon’s… pretty,” he said, almost to himself. “She’s smart, driven. She’d make a great partner for anyone.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. He glanced down at his hands, shaking his head slightly. “It’s just… there’s something inside me that stops me from falling for her. And I can’t put it into words.”

The frustration in his voice was palpable. It made your chest ache for him, this man who’d always been so sure of himself, now struggling to grasp his own emotions.

“It’s alright, Jeonghan,” you murmured, your voice soft, comforting. “You don’t have to force yourself to feel something that isn’t there.”

Jeonghan didn’t respond, his eyes drifting away as if searching for answers in the smoke curling up from the grill. The silence between you was heavy, filled with words unspoken and pain unaddressed. He’d been there for Jiyeon, done everything a good fiancé would do. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was only playing the role of a fiancé—not really living it.

And as you sat there, you couldn’t help but think back to Seungcheol’s words from earlier that day.

“If Jeonghan and Jiyeon finally decide to call it off… it wouldn’t be the end of the world, you know?”

You hadn’t understood what he meant at the time. But now, looking at Jeonghan’s weary expression, the way he forced himself to be the person Jiyeon needed, you began to see it.

Maybe, just maybe, calling it off would be the best thing—for everyone involved. Including Seungcheol, who’d seemed a little too relieved at the thought of the engagement ending.

You shook your head, trying to push away the unsettling thought. No, it wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about what Seungcheol and you might gain. It was about your brother’s happiness.

You sighed, turning your attention back to the grill. The meat was starting to char at the edges, and you quickly flipped it over, frowning at the burnt bits.

Maybe Seungcheol was right. Maybe some things weren’t meant to be fixed, but to be set free.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for Jeonghan to let go of the life he thought he was supposed to live… and find one where he could finally be happy.

*

Jeonghan removed his engagement ring and placed it on the table in front of Jiyeon’s parents. The sound of the metal touching the wooden surface seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room. Jiyeon’s parents stared at the ring, disbelief etched across their faces as they looked back and forth between their daughter and Jeonghan. Jiyeon remained silent beside him, her gaze fixed on the table as if she could avoid the weight of the moment entirely.

Before her parents could voice their outrage, Jiyeon took off her own ring and set it beside his, an unspoken affirmation that this decision had been made together. The rings, once symbols of a future they were supposed to build, now lay side by side, abandoned.

“I realized that I’m not ready to settle,” Jeonghan said, his voice steady but soft. He looked directly at Jiyeon’s father. “My priority right now is my sister. I don’t want to keep hurting Jiyeon by holding on to something I can’t fully commit to.”

Jiyeon’s father, a man usually composed and measured, narrowed his eyes. “And you’re prepared for the consequences of this?” he asked, voice low with an edge of warning.

Jeonghan met his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes, I’ve thought it through. I’m aware of what this means for both our families, and I’m sorry for how this will affect our businesses. But it’s the right thing to do.”

A heavy silence settled in the room. Jiyeon’s mother let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, while her father’s stern expression remained unchanged. They knew what Jeonghan was referring to—the contracts and collaborations between the two families that would likely dissolve now that the engagement was off. But none of it mattered anymore. Not when Jiyeon’s empty gaze mirrored Jeonghan’s.

Jeonghan’s lips twitched, offering a small, remorseful smile. “I apologize once again,” he murmured, bowing his head. It was a gesture not just of respect, but of finality.

The drive home felt like a blur. The city lights outside the car window blended into a sea of color as he navigated through Seoul’s busy streets. He should’ve felt lighter, relieved even. But all he felt was a hollow emptiness, a void where expectations and duty used to reside.

When he finally stepped into the house, he was greeted by the quiet stillness that came with being alone. The maid offered a polite smile and a nod before retreating, leaving him in the large, empty living room. His eyes wandered to the framed family photo on the wall—the one taken two days before everything changed.

A little you, perched on your father’s lap, smiling brightly at the camera. His younger self stood beside your mother, his expression carefree, with no trace of the weight he’d eventually carry. That picture captured a moment frozen in time—before the car accident that took your parents, before the responsibilities of the family business fell on his shoulders.

He’d been so young, barely an adult himself. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t prepared for the endless days and sleepless nights that followed, learning how to run a business while grieving. But he had to be ready. For you, for the legacy left behind. He pushed himself harder than anyone could imagine, hoping that if he tried hard enough, he’d find happiness at the end of it all.

But it never came. He never found it.

Until you came back to Seoul after graduation.

You’d breezed into his life like a whirlwind, bringing color and laughter back into a world that had been gray for too long. Your presence reminded him of what it felt like to be happy again. He cherished seeing you smile, watching you rediscover life with the kind of enthusiasm he’d long since buried.

Then he saw you, smiling at Seungcheol at the Heidos Group Anniversary. It was the first time he noticed that familiar spark in your eyes. The same one you’d had back in college, when he’d shown you a photo of his roommate and you’d teased him with a mischievous grin.

“Wow, you have a handsome friend. Why don’t you introduce us?” you’d joked.

He remembered the look on his face back then—the way he’d sworn he’d never let you two meet. Your crush on Seungcheol was a topic he never took lightly, though he’d played it off as an overprotective brother act. He hated it, seeing that giddy, admiring look on your face, even if he’d never said a word.

And then, he watched you grow up, choosing paths that always seemed to lead back to Seungcheol—whether it was working at Heidos Food or insisting on attending the same events. When you’d finally landed a job at Heidos Food, the excitement in your voice had made his chest tighten with something close to fear.

“The time has come,” he’d thought bitterly.

Jeonghan knew he couldn’t stop you. He couldn’t stand in the way of fate, no matter how much he wanted to. Because if there was anyone who could give you the kind of love and happiness he couldn’t, it was Seungcheol.

The day when he saw Seungcheol’s car parked in front of your house, he realized he’d been right all along. He’d sensed that whatever it was between you and Seungcheol was finally unfolding, blooming into something he couldn’t control.

And now, as he stood in the dimly lit hallway of his house, staring at that old family photo, he felt a strange sense of peace. Letting go of Jiyeon, refusing to force himself into a life he didn’t want, had been the right decision.

Because he couldn’t stand to see you unhappy. And if Seungcheol could bring you joy, then everything—letting go of his engagement, enduring the aftermath—would be worth it.

Jeonghan turned away from the photo, his gaze lingering on the empty, silent house. Yes, he thought, his heart aching but resolute. Letting go was never easy, but some things needed to be set free so that something new could begin.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to start letting go of the life he thought he should lead… and find one where he could finally just be.

*

The early morning light peeked through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Seungcheol shifted slightly, careful not to wake you as he looked down at the sight that had become his favorite—your peaceful face resting against his chest, hair slightly mussed from sleep.

You’d stayed the night, and now, as he watched the rise and fall of your breathing, he couldn’t help but smile. This moment, the quiet intimacy of waking up with you in his arms, felt almost too perfect to be real. He’d often catch himself wondering how he got lucky enough to have you here, tangled up with him in sheets that were no longer cold and empty.

Slowly, as if sensing his gaze, your eyes fluttered open. You blinked, squinting against the morning light before looking up at him, a small pout forming on your lips.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shifted, stretching slightly but not moving away from his hold. “Morning… I should probably get going, though,” you mumbled, glancing around as if remembering where you were. “I don’t have any clothes here.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t need to rush off so soon. The lady who cleans the house brought over a bunch of women’s clothes the other day. Said she thought they might come in handy.”

Your eyes widened a fraction. “Wait, seriously? Why would she do that?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm in the quiet room. “I might have mentioned something about a ‘guest’ staying over occasionally. Ever since then, she’s been pampering me with questions and insisting on stocking up on things.”

You groaned softly, burying your face back into his chest. “Seungcheol…”

“What?” He pretended to look offended, though his grin only widened. “I didn’t exactly ask her to do it, but I have to say, she’s been very thoughtful.”

“Still… it’s embarrassing,” you muttered.

He let out a low hum, running his fingers gently through your hair. “I like it,” he admitted softly. “I like having you around. Everything just… feels better when you’re here.”

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes, a softness and sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. He was serious. Everything was better with you.

Reluctantly, you nodded. “Alright. I’ll stay for breakfast, but I’m going home after that.”

“Deal,” he agreed easily, pressing a light kiss to your forehead before you finally untangled yourself from his arms.

A little while later, you were sitting across from Seungcheol at his kitchen table, the two of you sharing a simple breakfast. Despite the everyday setting, something about it felt special. The clink of utensils against plates, the smell of coffee filling the air—it was a scene you could get used to.

Seungcheol watched you from over his cup, unable to stop the smile that crept onto his face. Eating breakfast alone was something he’d grown accustomed to, but with you here, everything was different. The eggs tasted richer, the toast more buttery, and even the morning sunlight seemed warmer.

“I could get used to this,” he mused aloud, his voice light but with a hint of something deeper.

You glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast. Mornings. Everything,” he said, leaning back slightly as he took in the sight of you. “When you’re here, the food tastes better, the air feels fresher… even the cold water in the shower isn’t as bad.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Such a sweet talker, Seungcheol.”

“I’m serious,” he murmured, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You make everything better.”

Your cheeks warmed at the intensity of his gaze, but before you could respond, he was already standing up and gathering the empty dishes. You moved to help, but he waved you off.

“Stay. I’ll do the dishes,” he said firmly.

“You cooked,” you protested. “It’s only fair I help.”

He hesitated, then sighed, relenting. “Alright, fine. But I’m drying.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm at the sink. You washed, and he dried, his presence close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Every so often, his arm would brush against yours, sending tiny sparks up your skin.

It was just the two of you, sharing a simple, quiet moment in his kitchen. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Seungcheol’s arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You squealed softly in surprise, your soapy hands hovering awkwardly over the sink as you turned your head to look at him.

“Seungcheol, what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“I just… needed to hold you for a second,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands splayed across your stomach, holding you close as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “You’re always so busy, and I just wanted a bit more of you before you go.”

Your heart melted at his words. He sounded almost childlike, his usual confident demeanor slipping away to reveal the vulnerability underneath.

You turned slightly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

His gaze softened, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, lingering, as if he was savoring every second. You sighed against his mouth, your hands reaching up to wind around his neck.

One kiss turned into another, then another, each one deeper than the last. The dishes were forgotten, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the fridge and the ragged breaths you both shared.

“Seungcheol…” you breathed out as his mouth trailed down your jaw, leaving a hot path of kisses along your neck. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, trapping you in place as he pulled you closer.

But before things could go any further, the front door swung open.

You both froze, heads snapping toward the sound. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, drawing closer. Panic seized you, your heart racing as you looked up at Seungcheol with wide eyes.

“Who could that be?” you whispered frantically.

“I—I don’t know,” he stammered, releasing you and stepping back hastily.

The footsteps stopped, and a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Jiyeon?” Seungcheol blurted out, his voice a mixture of shock and confusion.

Jiyeon’s eyes widened as she took in the scene—your flushed face, Seungcheol’s disheveled hair, the obvious tension lingering in the air.

For a moment, no one spoke.

“Uh… hi?” you offered weakly, your voice sounding embarrassingly small.

Jiyeon raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you with a knowing smirk. “Did I… interrupt something?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, scrambling to regain his composure. “What are you doing here?”

Jiyeon shrugged casually. “I came to talk. But it seems like you’re… busy.”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and you could see the teasing smile threatening to break through.

Seungcheol let out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Right. Let’s… talk.”

You shifted awkwardly, glancing at Seungcheol. “I should probably—”

“No,” Seungcheol interrupted firmly, taking your hand. “Stay. Whatever she has to say, she can say it in front of you.”

Jiyeon’s smirk widened. “Well, this should be interesting,” she murmured, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the situation a bit too much.

As Seungcheol’s grip on your hand tightened, you couldn’t help but feel that whatever was coming, you’d face it together.

*

The brunch spot you’d chosen was a cozy little café downtown, known for its long queues on weekends. You glanced around nervously, feeling a bit guilty for dragging Seungcheol out here on a Sunday morning. He’d already spent the night taking care of you, and now he was stuck in line with you, waiting for pastries and coffee.

“I’m sorry for making you wait around like this,” you murmured, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I know you probably had better things to do than—”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, cutting you off with a gentle nudge. “Stop apologizing. I’m happy to be here. Besides,” he leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear, “I’d rather spend a few hours queuing with you than not see you at all.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, and you looked away, pretending to be overly interested in the menu board. “Still… I feel bad that I’ve been so busy. It’s like everyone at work just dumped all their projects on me.”

“Maybe you should start messing with their work,” he suggested with a cheeky grin.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “As tempting as that sounds, Jeonghan would not be happy about it.”

Seungcheol’s smile faltered a little at the mention of your brother. “Your brother needs to cut you some slack,” he muttered. “You’re doing more than enough for that company.”

“Speaking of which…” You glanced up at the counter where the bakery display was set up. “I think I should get more almond croissants. Just in case Jeonghan decides to visit my place.”

Seungcheol’s frown deepened. “He should stop visiting your place so often. Doesn’t he have anything else to do?”

You tried to stifle a laugh. “No, he only has me.”

“Ugh,” Seungcheol groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically. “Right, I forgot. Your brother’s territorial complex. I don’t think he’s ready to share you yet.”

“Not at all,” you teased lightly. “Which is why you’re right—we should probably wait until our second anniversary to tell him, not the first.”

He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips despite his grumbling. “You’re going to make me wait even longer, huh?”

“Just a little bit,” you hummed, flashing him a playful smile.

It didn’t take much longer for the line to move forward, and soon enough, you were walking out with a bag full of fresh pastries and two cups of coffee. Seungcheol insisted on carrying everything, his hand lightly brushing yours every so often as you walked back to his car.

The ride back to your place was filled with easy chatter and laughter. Seungcheol had this way of making even the most mundane moments feel special, his presence so warm and comforting that you found yourself wishing you could stay with him all day. But you knew you couldn’t; there was still a mountain of work waiting for you at home.

When you finally reached your building, Seungcheol parked the car and turned to you, a small, reluctant smile on his face. “I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t have to,” you protested lightly, though you secretly loved that he was always so considerate.

“I want to,” he insisted. He carried the pastry bag and followed you to your door, his hand finding its way to your lower back as you fished for your keys.

The second you unlocked the door, Seungcheol pulled you into a gentle hug, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Promise me you’ll take breaks while working,” he murmured softly.

You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his embrace. “I will,” you whispered, your arms tightening around him.

“And text me when you’re done, alright?” he added, tilting your face up so he could press a lingering kiss to your lips. “I want to know when I can steal you away again.”

You nodded, smiling against his mouth. “Okay, I’ll text you.”

But before you could say anything else, the door behind you swung open, startling both of you. You turned around, eyes widening in shock as you found yourself face-to-face with Jeonghan.

His gaze shifting between you and Seungcheol. His eyes narrowed, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he processed what he was seeing—his little sister standing on the doorstep with Seungcheol, lips a bit too swollen and hair a bit too messy to be innocent.

“What’s this?” Jeonghan demanded, his tone icy as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Care to explain?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Seungcheol beat you to it. He took a step forward, positioning himself slightly in front of you, as if shielding you from Jeonghan’s cold glare.

“I can explain,” Seungcheol said calmly. “I know this looks… unexpected, but I can assure you that everything is fine. We’re fine.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine?” he repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “You’re standing outside my sister’s apartment looking like you’ve been making out for hours, and you’re telling me everything is fine?”

You winced, but Seungcheol remained unflinching. “Yes, because that’s exactly what happened.”

Your eyes widened at Seungcheol’s boldness. He shot you a quick, reassuring glance before turning back to face Jeonghan, his shoulders squared confidently.

“I like her,” Seungcheol stated firmly, his voice unwavering. “I’ve liked her for a long time. And I’d like to keep liking her—with your permission, of course.”

Jeonghan blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Seungcheol’s directness. He glanced at you, his gaze softening slightly before he looked back at Seungcheol.

“You like her?” he echoed, as if testing the words on his tongue. “Since when?”

Seungcheol hesitated, his jaw clenching slightly. “Since… well, since before I knew I wasn’t supposed to.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, but there was no malice in his gaze, only a protective wariness. “And you,” he turned to you, his voice softer now. “Is this what you want?”

You swallowed, meeting Jeonghan’s gaze squarely. “Yes. I want this,” you said quietly but firmly. “I want to be with him.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, the tension almost palpable. Then, slowly, Jeonghan let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“Well… I guess I can’t really stop you,” he muttered, his lips quirking up in a reluctant smile. “But I swear, if you hurt her—”

“I won’t,” Seungcheol interrupted, his voice filled with quiet determination. “I promise, I won’t.”

Jeonghan eyed him for a long moment, then nodded, a small sigh escaping him. “Alright. But don’t think I’m going to make it easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Seungcheol replied with a grin.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching up. He turned to you, his expression softening. “And you—don’t think this gets you out of our lunch plans tomorrow.”

You laughed softly, relief flooding through you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jeonghan shook his head, muttering something under his breath about troublesome siblings before stepping back inside. “Just… behave yourselves, okay?”

You nodded, smiling as you watched him retreat into the apartment.

Once the door clicked shut, Seungcheol let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He turned to you, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and amusement.

“Well, that went better than expected,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms again.

“Yeah,” you agreed, leaning into his embrace. “Way better.”

“Now,” he whispered against your hair, “let’s finish that kiss properly, hmm?”

You laughed, tilting your head up to meet his lips again, this time with no interruptions, no worries—just the sweet, undeniable feeling of being exactly where you belonged.

*

It was well past midnight, and your living room was dimly lit by the soft glow of your laptop screen. Papers were strewn across the coffee table, along with empty coffee cups and a half-eaten sandwich you’d forgotten about hours ago. You sat hunched over your work, typing furiously, as if sheer speed could somehow help you finish everything your colleagues had dumped on you.

Seungcheol sat quietly beside you on the couch, his presence a steadying comfort. He had come over a few hours ago after seeing your “busy” message and the growing bags under your eyes during your video call. You didn’t ask him to stay, but you didn’t have to—Seungcheol knew you too well to leave you alone on a night like this.

He glanced at you, his brows furrowing slightly in concern as you groaned softly and ran a hand through your hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

“I swear, I won’t work there anymore—even in my next life,” you muttered under your breath, your eyes glued to the screen.

Seungcheol’s lips curled up into a small smile. He shifted closer, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other began to gently rub circles on your back. His touch was warm and soothing, slowly melting away some of the tension that had built up in your shoulders.

“You’ve been saying that for months, you know?” he teased softly, his hand moving up to trace comforting patterns across your tummy. “Yet here you are, still working your ass off.”

You sighed, leaning back against him slightly, grateful for his quiet support. “This is why I hate nepotism. It never works fairly! It’s either you become the evil one, or you get eviled.”

Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment. “It’s unfair,” he agreed softly. “And I hate that you have to go through this. But you’re strong—you’ll get through it, like you always do.”

“Only because you’re here,” you murmured, turning your head to look at him. “You know, I could’ve accepted your offer to go back to Heidos, but…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “But I chose this. I chose to stay with my brother’s company. Maybe this is my karma—maybe I deserve all this headache and exhaustion for turning down your offer.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened, his gaze filled with nothing but love and understanding. He shifted slightly, cupping your cheek with one hand as he leaned in closer. “Hey, none of this is your fault,” he murmured gently. “You don’t deserve any of this stress. And just because you chose to help your brother doesn’t mean you have to keep suffering like this.”

Before you could respond, Seungcheol kissed you softly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the best way. He pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead resting against yours.

“I can make you feel better, though,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing as his thumb caressed your cheek. Then, without waiting for your answer, he kissed you again—deeper this time, slow and lingering, like he was trying to pour all his love and support into that one kiss.

You sighed into the kiss, your shoulders relaxing for the first time that night as you melted against him. All the stress, the exhaustion, and the frustration seemed to fade away, replaced by the warm comfort of being in Seungcheol’s arms.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips when you finally pulled away, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Seungcheol smiled, his hand sliding up to tangle gently in your hair. “You don’t have to worry about that, because I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here—for every late night, for every breakdown, for everything. I’m with you, always.”

And in that quiet, intimate moment, you knew—no matter how tough things got, no matter how much work was thrown your way, as long as you had Seungcheol by your side, you could get through anything.

The night stretched on, but with Seungcheol’s arms around you and his comforting presence beside you, the workload didn’t seem so daunting. You could finish it, you would finish it. And when you finally shut your laptop hours later, you curled up against Seungcheol’s chest, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

The last thing you heard before drifting off was his soft whisper in your ear.

“I love you.”

:)

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 10 - ( c.s )

part nine

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- a little angsty, swearing, comfort as well i guess, idk??? nothing crazy

a/n: i liedddd i lied i’m splitting the last part in two bc this became a little longer than anticipated. i hope u are all doing fantastic and i stg i will get the rest of this story out if its the last thing i do LMFAO (next part will give u goblins what you’ve been waiting for hehehehe)

the knocks on your front door start at around six pm the following friday. it’s surprising, because it’s rare that anyone shows up unannounced, especially right before the weekend festivities.

in fact, the last time someone did that was when chris arrived on your front porch with a bouquet of flowers to ask you on a date. you try not to think about it too much as you descend the stairs, focusing on not tripping over your feet instead.

the knocking grows louder, making it clear that whoever is waiting is rather restless.

“i’m fucking coming!” you shout as you make it to the landing, closing the final distance and yanking the door open with a huff.

when you see who it is, you’re even more out of breath. ben and connor stand before you, concern written all over both of their faces. neither of them say anything; they just exchange sheepish glances with one another like they’re unsure where to begin.

“oh—uh…hey guys. what’s up?” you try not to sound too disoriented, even though you are.

“hey…sorry to barge over here like this, i’m sure we’re not really the people you want to be seeing right now.” connor starts, shoving his hands in his pockets as he speaks.

you stay silent, because he’s not really wrong. you know that they have nothing to do with the situation, and you refuse to take it out on them, but seeing chris’s friends is a painful reminder that he still exists.

even though each week becomes a tiny bit more bearable, that doesn’t mean you’re suddenly fine and back to normal.

ben clears his throat, taking over for his friend and cutting to the chase. “look, we really need your help. i swear we wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t serious.”

your eyebrows furrow further, and you’re somehow even more confused than you were when you opened the door. an anxious feeling settles in your stomach, like it’s only going to get worse from here.

“what is it?” you ask hesitantly, because you’re not sure you actually want the answer.

“it’s chris,” connor starts, eyes darting over to their house as he says it, “he’s…i don’t know, he’s just messed up. ever since things ended between the two of you he’s been completely out of it, and now he’s throwing hockey away too.”

you tilt your head to the side. “wait, what do you mean throwing it away?”

”the team confronted him after we lost on sunday and he didn’t want to hear it, so he walked away. we thought he was fronting, that he’d realize he was being an idiot, but he didn’t show up to any of our practices this week and coach is fuckin’ pissed. he won’t talk to us, or listen to anything we’re saying.” ben explains further, waving his hands around in aggravation as he speaks.

horror washes over you when you realize that they probably spoke to him about you, and that the whole team was in on it. you can feel your cheeks heating up in shame just thinking about how that conversation went, which makes you angry.

your voice comes out a lot sharper than intended when you respond. “no offense guys, but i’m not really sure what this has to do with me.”

“kind of, like, everything.” ben shoots back, though he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth once he realizes how he sounds.

connor rolls his eyes and elbows him in the hip, earning a muffled grunt. “what he means to say is that the only person that kid listens to is you. if he doesn’t snap out of it soon and go to the game tomorrow, he's gonna be kicked off the team for good. and as much as you’re on shitty terms, i don’t think you want to see him do that either.”

he’s spot on once again. you’re still hurt, but you can’t bring yourself to truly hate him. hearing that chris is taking this just as hard and is actively fucking up the rest of his career at the most critical time makes your heart feel like it’s suffocating.

you rub your eyes, letting out a long sigh as you begin to mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to do.

“fine, i hear you, and i’ll talk to him. but i'm not making any promises beyond that.”

they both look so relieved that you actually feel kind of bad. you’re not sure if this is actually going to work, but they’ve clearly been stressing out over their friend for a while now.

you wonder if your own roommates feel the same way about you. they’re out together for happy hour after you insisted on staying home, still not in the mood to socialize. you’ve been trying not to burden them with the massive pressure you‘re feeling all of the time, but they’ve also known you for over three years now.

it’s hard to hide from the people that really know you, which chris clearly understands.

“thank you, seriously. we both owe you major, anything you want for real.” ben praises, hands pressed together as if he’s worshiping.

“yeah, we really appreciate you doing this. i’ve always known you were the best, but you somehow only get better.” connor smiles, a small glimmer of sadness in his eyes.

he straightens up after a moment, nodding over at their place as they begin to retreat. “ben and i are headed out to the bars, so if you’re not up to anything tonight, he’ll be in his room. front door’s open.”

you already feel like you’re floundering, but you nod at the two of them as if you’re just great anyways. what else can you do when you just made a vow to throw your healing out the window?

ben lingers for a moment, staying just close enough so that he can whisper under his breath. “for what it’s worth, you're the best thing that ever happened to chris. and i hope one day he can prove that he knows that too.”

you feel yourself tense up immediately. you have no idea how the hell you’re supposed to respond to that, so you don’t. he gives you a small wave as he finally turns, joining his friend so that they can make their way up the street.

you watch them until they’re gone, still frozen in place. the shock has finally kicked in, and you can’t move.

all you can think about is chris; having to look him in the face again, and listen to him say things to you that you know are going to twist the knife even deeper. it’ll probably undo all of what little progress you’ve made.

but you can’t let him mess everything else up too, not when you still love him so much. there are some things that are worth throwing yourself on the blade for, and this is one of them.

unfortunately or not, you’re going over there, and you’re going to shake some fucking sense into him like you always do.

even if it kills you in the process.

when chris hears the soft tapping on his door, he assumes it’s one of his roommates trying to persuade him off of his war path once again. he’s sprawled out in bed as if there’s not a care in the world, playing endless rounds of fortnite like he has been for the past week.

“i’m not interested in chatting.” he snaps, narrowing his irritated eyes at the tv screen in front of him.

it’s locked anyways, so they can’t get in regardless. and yet, despite this fact, the door swings open a moment later. chris is about to spiral into a complete rage until he actually looks over to see who it is.

you’re standing there with a bent paperclip in hand, a self-satisfied expression plastered on your face.

“so it actually does work, huh?”

for a second he thinks he’s hallucinating. there’s no way that you’re actually here, in his room, cracking a joke about the time that he broke in to talk to you. but he can smell your signature perfume in the air, which convinces him that this is in fact real life.

chris shoots up in bed, messing with his hair self-consciously. a furious blush is creeping up his face, because his room is a fucking disaster zone of clutter and it’s embarrassing. he wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not you.

“um—hi?” it’s more of a question than an actual greeting, even though he didn’t mean for it to come out that way.

“hi.” you reply awkwardly, eyes shifting around his room as you continue to stand in the doorway.

“you can, uh, sit. if you want.” chris stutters, moving his legs so that they’re hanging off his bed.

he straightens his comforter to make room for you, still red with shame about the mess. he has no idea why you’re here, he’s just praying that he doesn’t say anything that’ll scare you away. he wants this moment to last as long as it possibly can.

luckily enough, you actually do end up making your way over, settling on the very edge of his bed. you’re practically falling off it, trying to make sure that you keep as much distance between the two of you as possible. it breaks his heart, but he can’t say he doesn’t understand.

“i’m sure you’re confused, so i’ll just get right to it.” you start, picking at your fingernails so you don’t have to look at him.

the lump in his throat is growing by the second, but instead of showing that, he nods and attempts to choke it back down.

“your friends came over. they’re really worried about you, you know.” you continue carefully.

he barely contains an eye roll, opting to close them for a moment instead as he lets out a small breath. but he understands, seeing as he’s gone completely off the rails.

“i don’t know what to say to that.” chris replies honestly, since he’s apparently lost the ability to talk to you too.

“well, i guess you could start by telling me what the hell is going on, because you pretty much live and breathe for your team.” you’re putting it bluntly now, because you know it won’t get through to him if you don’t.

he rubs a hand over his face, trying to think of the right words. they’re not really there, but it’s been too long of a pause, and he needs to fucking speak like a normal person.

“i…my heart just isn’t in it. i’m playing like shit and it’s better if i don’t bring them down with me.”

you shake your head, completely astounded by the attitude that you’re hearing. “so you’re just going to turn your back now? when you’re weeks away from selection show and so close to a contract?”

he’s defeated; chris doesn’t know what else to do besides throw in the towel, and he also has no idea how to get you to understand that. his shoulders slump slightly as he stares at the floor.

“yeah, i guess i am.”

it’s silent for a moment, which makes him incredibly insecure. then you nudge him with your foot a little, forcing him to look over at you.

“listen, if you don’t want to play hockey anymore, that’s your decision at the end of the day. but i have to be honest with you before you do that.” you start off strong, facing him fully so that you can meet his eyes.

“the first time i ever came to your game, as someone that you actually invited, i saw you. i’d been to games before, but that night i was solely focused on you, as stupid and fucking embarrassing as that is to admit. you were electric out there, chris, and you’ve got so much talent it’s actually a bit ridiculous. i mean, you literally made me fall in love with hockey all over again,” your voice wobbles slightly—barely enough for him to notice—but it’s there.

your eyes are full of an emotion he can’t comprehend. maybe it’s because you’re feeling every single one of them, just like he is right now. he’s beginning to cry, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“you’ve been putting in the work, and i know that you’d get an AHL contract from one team or another. you want it so bad it kills you, and you’re so damn close. i can’t let you give that away because of us.”

the words hit him hard, and even though his first instinct is to get defensive, there’s no point. you can read him like a book, and you know just as well as he does that his terrible performance has everything to do with your relationship.

slowly, he reaches for your hand. he can’t help it; being this close to you makes it feel like every single one of his nerves is on fire, and he has to actually feel you.

your fingers tangle together, resting on your leg. you’re stiff at first, but you relax into it as his thumb grazes your lower thigh in a calming pattern. it feels so natural, almost domestic, even after being apart for so long.

his other hand goes to your neck, pulling you forward so that your foreheads press together gently. you can smell him, feel his slightly callused palms, hear his soft breaths. it’s so overwhelming that the tears you’ve been shoving away spring to your eyes.

he knows he only gets one chance to say it, so he does.

“i love you. i love you so much that i can't focus on anything else, not with the way things are between us. and i am so, so sorry that i ever did that to you, or that i put myself in that situation in the first place. it was my own insecurity taking over, as much as that sucks to say, and it was pathetic. but i want to be with you, only you, and i always have. i mean, fuck, i’ve loved you since the moment you moved in next door, when you yelled at me out your window to put on a shirt that night.” chris chuckles slightly, sniffling a bit as he continues to brush his thumbs along your skin.

you can’t help but huff out a small laugh as well, thinking about that day. you were already frustrated after it took hours to build your dresser, and him teasing you was just the final nail in the coffin.

“the point is that i love you, and i’m sorry. i just needed you to hear me say it.” he breathes.

everything in him wants to lean in and close the rest of the space, because he misses his mouth on yours so much. teardrops roll down your cheeks slowly, and he can feel you shaking just a little bit in his grasp.

“i fucking love you too, chris, but i just…i just don’t know.” you sigh, biting down on your bottom lip hard to keep them from colliding with his.

you place a hand on his chest, pushing him away just a little bit to try and set a boundary. it’s almost worse, because now you can really see him, his face inches apart from yours.

his eyes dart down to your lips for too long, puffy from you gnawing on them, and he can feel himself slipping into that same trance he’s always in whenever he’s around you. especially after hearing those three words, whether you were cursing at him or not.

but he nods and lets his fingers fall from your neck, because he refuses to force this on you if you’re not ready. he still keeps a hold of your hand, though, for at least a little longer.

“i get it. i’ll fucking wait, i don’t care. if there’s any chance, i’d wait forever, do you understand that?”

you can’t meet his eyes as you push some of your hair over your shoulder. “i’m not sure that i do.”

“i can’t do this without you, and i don’t want to.” chris feels like he’s repeating himself, but he doesn’t care.

he squeezes your hand just a bit, and you use your free one to brush the tears from your cheeks. you finally meet his gaze again a moment later, eyes shining slightly. he can see the hesitation in them from a mile away.

“please, just come to the game tomorrow. i’ll swallow my pride and beg for forgiveness until coach lets me back on the team if you can do that for me.” he pleads, the faintest of ideas forming in the back of his mind.

you blow out another breath, but your body betrays you and you’re nodding your head before you can actually respond. he’s surprised by this, naturally.

but you knew the second the words came out of his mouth that you would say yes, so you verbalize that fact. “i’ll go. if you show up and play like you mean it, i’ll go.”

he feels himself laugh again instinctively, just because of how wrong he was. you’ll always have that fiery personality; it’s just you. he figured you’d eventually move on and find some really great guy, but he was pretty sure that he would always stay right here, dreaming of you.

“i’ll play like it’s the last game of my life, i promise.” he places his hand over his heart, knowing full well now that he’s going to put on a real show.

you pull your own from his so that you can stick your pinky out, forcing him to swear on it. you’re well aware that it’s silly, but you’ve always believed it was a little deeper than just saying it.

“pinky?” you challenge.

he smiles, linking his finger with yours without batting an eye. “pinky.”

@fawnchives @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles @x0x0bunny

[rafeysbambii]

hypnosis : bambi!reader who caught s2!rafes eye the moment he met her planting roses in the middle of summer.

warnings : cursing

word count : 456

authors note : hi angels! this is my first little drabble, and i really hope you’ll enjoy! if you have any requests for new characters, drabble, fics, etc. my requests are pretty much always open! i’m willing to write about most things so go for it! i’d also like to thank @cameronsprincess for reading this through, you’re amazing! enjoy <3333

“the fuck are you doin’?” rafe had wandered to far from home after a particular bad fight with his father, and in his red hot angry rage - he found himself in a small meadow somewhere behind tanneyhills huge forest. “hm?” the brown haired girl had turned to the voice, her hands muddy and earthy from planting the beautiful flower she adored so much.

“i said what the fuck are you doing?” the second time around he’s growing more annoyed that the stupidly cute and deer like girl ignored his question the first time. “oh! m’ planting some roses! they’re beautiful aren’t they?” she chirps, her pink and glossy lips curving into a huge smile.

rafe scoffs, crossing his stupidly large arms over his perfectly fitted polo - “why the fuck are you planting flowers in the middle of fuckin’ summer.” his comment makes the girl frown, why so mean? “you don’t… you don’t like my roses?” her once bright smile, and peppy eyes slowly melt into a soft, adorable pout.

“hey - hey stop that, i never fuckin said i didn’t —“ before he can even explain himself the tears have already started to flow down the girl’s beautiful rosy red cheeks - making rafe feel… bad?

no, that can’t be it. rafe cameron doesn’t feel bad, that’s for… that’s for pussies, well that’s what ward tells him.

“a’right stop cryin’ s’ not that serious.” he leans down and grabs the small girl by her shoulders, pulling her in for an awkward yet warm hug, one that he isn’t used to. “you’re fine kid.”

she sniffles once, then twice - then a few times more before he’s grown tired of the hug, pushing her body back gently to stand back up on his expensive shoes. “what’s your name.”

“it’s y/n” there it is, that smile that made his heart skip a beat at the first sight of her - “bambi.” she cocks an eyebrow at him, a giggle escaping past her glossy pink and plump lips, “bambi?”

“yeah, bambi. you look like a deer, and you’re lurkin’ in the middle of the fuckin woods like one of em’ so you’re bambi.” the explanation falls to short ears, she doesn’t care about why - she likes it, bambi.

bambi, bambi, bambi.

“do you want to… plant a flower? it’s very relaxing!” he wants to say no — he really does, but with the flutter of her lashes, and the way she pulls her lips in between her perfectly white teeth, it’s hard to resist it.

“sure — whatever, don’t make this shit take forever.” with a blinding smile she pats the spot next to her, beckoning that boy next to her, in which he sits carefully.

“so first you…”

‘well bambi, you’re my deer now.’

another a/n: i really hope you enjoyed reading this, and if you ever have any problems with what i write im more than welcome to critique and for you to request anything! i’m still trying to figure out this tumblr thing with how to put together a masterlist but ill get there eventually! <3

[mywritersmind]

DRUNK THOUGHTS - LN4

summary : He’s drunk and on a dock, nothing can go wrong. Except maybe him confessing his love to his taken best friend.

listen up : drunk lando! reader has a bf but no cheating involved!! maybe a pt.2 but prob not? i’ve kinda been unmotivated but if u have ideas my requests are open!

word count : 653

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I find him on a dock, his arm touching the water and his body laying down to face the stars.

I wobble down the wooden path, taking my heels off and pulling my dress down a bit. I’ve been drinking and dancing all night, yet my experience doesn’t even come close to Lando’s night.

He turns his head when he hears my footsteps, “Wanted to make sure you were still alive.” I look at his body, he’s in baby blue pants and a half undone shirt.

I left my boyfriend who was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes to come check on him, feeling a bit tipsy and more than happy to be alone with him.

“Y/n!” He grins and points at me, yup he’s definitely drank more than me, “Hi!”

I laugh and squat next to him, “Hi Lan. Fun night?”

“Oh definitely!” he giggles, his hand patting the place next to him. I sigh and lay down, looking up at the night sky. “You?”

“Very fun.” He’s looking at me still, I glance to him, a curl fallen into his face and his eyes are all soft and shaded from the lack of light.

It’s almost unfair, how beautiful he is.

“I like your dress!” He smiles, his hand gently running against the hem of it. It’s small and black and his touch makes goosebumps run through me.

“I like your necklace.” I reach over and run my fingers over his logo, “Very nice.”

“Would be nicer on you.” Lando’s always like this. Drunk or not, he’s a flirt.

“Ya think?”

“I know.” He looks back up like it’s nothing, “Would be even nicer if it was the only thing you were wearing.” the words come out so quick and easy that I almost think I hallucinated them. Lando’s flirty, sure, but my boyfriend is almost always around so he doesn’t mess around too much.

Apparently drunk him does.

I practically choke, “Oh?”

His head turns to me again, his eyes roaming my features, “You're so pretty.” He says softly, “Like really reallyyyy gorgeously you.”

“I- thank you?”

“Everyone thinks it. All the guys who stare at you but they don’t get it. Not even your lover boy.” He shakes his head matter of factly, “No no no. I do. I hate those guys.”

“What guys?” I laugh.

“You do not have very good vision.” He smacks his lips together, “Everyone looks.”

I laugh, honestly thinking he’s joking, “They’re always looking at you- the famous one.”

He shakes his head again, adamant I'm wrong, “No no pretty. They don’t give a nothing about me.”

“I think you do pretty well.” I raise a brow, “You were basically followed by a group of girls down here.” I’m not sure where they went but they were fawning over Lando.

He shrugs, “Bachelorette party. It’s basically my job.” I laugh and he looks offended that I did, “I wish you followed me.”

Suddenly his words aren’t funny anymore.

“But your bloody boy…” He makes a disgusted face, I thought he didn’t mind him. “Bleh. You’re better.”

“I didn’t know you disliked him.”

“Why would I like the bloke who’s in love with the girl I'm in love with?” His casual tone strikes again, this time stabbing me through the heart. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. I thought my own feelings had gone long before this trip- before my boyfriend!

I can’t fancy Lando and he cannot be in love with me.

“You’re so drunk.” I laugh it off but he just stares at me. He doesn’t seem to know that he just said he loves me.

“Drunk words are-”

“Sober thoughts.” I finish for him, His body shifting to lay on his stomach, an arm across my waist. “Yeah I know.”

“You always understand me.” He whispers and it breaks me in two. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you back, Lan.”

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

They Accidentally Bring Up an Insecurity| Chan

Gah finally trying to finish this set of fics!!

Bangchan x Gn!Reader

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The studio was a second home by now. The soft hum of equipment, the flickering lights of the soundboard, and the distant rumble of music playing through Chan’s headphones. You had been here countless times before, but tonight felt different- heavier. Chan’s sighs, the way his fingers tapped nervously on the keyboard, all of it told you that something was off.

You watched him from the couch, phone forgotten in your hands. He hadn’t said much since you arrived, and his silence was unsettling. You could imagine the look he had on his face. His brows furrowed, his lips pouting but also somehow in a straight line at the same time and also pursed.

Finally, after what felt like hours of him brooding in front of the screen, hands hovering without touching a single key, you spoke up. “Chris, is everything okay?”

He didn’t turn to look at you right away. His fingers twitched above the keyboard, hands still hovering just above the keys as if he was debating whether to say anything at all. A long sigh escaped him before he slumped back in his chair, his eyes staring blankly at the monitor. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Just…feels like I’m not doing enough.”

The words hit you harder than they should have, but you kept your face neutral. You had heard Chan talk like this before, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like a constant storm cloud. But tonight, it felt more personal, like his doubts were cutting into something deeper.

“You always work so hard, though,” you said softly, trying to find the right words to ease his worries. “Everyone sees it. The members, the fans, everyone.”

Chan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he swiveled his chair to you. “That’s the thing. I don’t think I’m enough. I feel like I’m always faking it, just doing what I can to stay afloat. One day, people are going to see right through me. They're going to be disappointed.”

You frowned, your heart aching at how harsh he was being on himself. “That’s not true. You do more than enough. You-” But your words faltered as something shifted inside you, a familiar knot tightening in your chest. "You won't disappoint anyone Chris. You haven't and you won't."

Chan’s self-criticism, the way he doubted his worth, resonated too closely with the insecurities you kept buried. If someone like him-talented, hardworking, and loved by so many- could feel this way, then what did that say about you?

If Chan didn’t feel like he was enough, how could you ever feel like you were doing enough to support him?

You swallowed hard, trying to push the thought away. This was about Chan, not you. He needed reassurance right now. But the insecurity had already latched on, creeping into the back of your mind.

“I’m serious, Chan,” you continued, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re amazing, and you’re doing more than anyone could ever ask of you.”

He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face. “I wish I could believe that.”

You wanted to say more, to keep comforting him like you always did, but doubt tugged at you, making your chest feel tight. Maybe your words weren’t enough. Maybe you weren’t doing enough to show him how much you cared.

Chan stood abruptly, pulling off his headphones. “I need a break. Let’s get out of here.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift, but nodded. “Yeah, sure. Where do you want to go?”

He shrugged, grabbing his jacket. “Anywhere but here.”

You stood and followed him out of the studio, but the knot in your stomach only tightened as you walked side by side through the darkened halls.

His doubts had stirred something in you, and now, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you weren’t showing your love well enough. Maybe that was why he felt like this- like he wasn’t enough.

The night air was cool as you walked together, the city buzzing quietly around you. Chan hadn’t said much since you left the studio, and you didn’t push him. Sometimes, he needed space to sort through his thoughts, and you respected that.

But the silence only made your mind race.

You ended up at a small diner a few blocks away. It was nearly empty, the late hour ensuring you’d have some privacy. The bell above the door jingled as you entered, and Chan slid into a booth, his shoulders still tense, his eyes distant.

You sat across from him, fiddling with the edge of the menu but not really reading it. The weight of unspoken words hung between you both, heavier than ever. You swallowed the knot stuck in your throat.

“I don’t get it,” Chan muttered after a long pause, breaking the silence. He was staring at the table now, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the surface. “I should be happy. I should feel grateful for everything I have, but I just… don’t, sometimes. I feel like I don't deserve any of this.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the knot in your stomach tightening painfully. The doubt in his voice mirrored the doubt that had been growing in you since the studio. You bit your lip, trying to find something- anything -to say that would make him see his worth.

But then his next words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Maybe I don’t deserve the love people give me,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Maybe I’m not doing enough to earn it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and suddenly, everything he’d said before fell into place. His doubts weren’t just about his work- they were about him. And the worst part was, those same doubts had already crept into your own heart.

Was that why he didn’t feel loved? Because you weren’t showing him enough?

You stayed silent for a moment too long, lost in your thoughts, and Chan looked up, frowning slightly. “You okay?” he asked, his tone softer now, more concerned.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, quickly glancing down at the menu. “Just…thinking.”

Chan studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, but thankfully, he didn’t push. He sighed, leaning back against the booth, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just tired, I guess.”

You nodded, though the heaviness in your chest made it hard to focus on his words. The conversation from earlier kept replaying in your mind, each sentence twisting the knife of insecurity a little deeper.

The waitress came by to take your orders, and you mumbled something about getting fries and a drink. Chan ordered without much thought, clearly still lost in his own world.

As you waited for the food, you found yourself staring out the window, watching cars pass by on the quiet street. Your thoughts were louder than the hum of the diner, the doubts louder than anything Chan could say to reassure you.

Maybe you weren’t enough. Maybe you hadn’t been showing him enough love, enough care, enough support. If Chan—someone who was adored by millions -felt like he didn’t deserve love, then what did that mean for you? What if you were part of the problem?

Chan was rambling on about something, but you barely registered his words. His voice faded into the background as your mind spiraled. How many times had you thought you were doing enough? How many times had you comforted him, thinking your words were making a difference? And yet, here he was, doubting everything, including whether he deserved to be loved.

You must have spaced out because suddenly, Chan was waving his hand in front of your face. “Hey, baby, everything good? You’re really out of it tonight.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus. “Sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m just…tired, I guess.”

Chan frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure, love? You’ve been kind of quiet since the studio.”

You nodded quickly, trying to push away the insecurity gnawing at you. This wasn’t about you- it was about him. You needed to be strong, to be the one who could lift him up.

But before you could say anything, Chan leaned forward, his expression softening as he grabbed your hands. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile. “Yeah, I know. I’m just…processing.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to the table. The food arrived shortly after, and the conversation turned light again, though there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between you.

Hours had passed since you both left the studio. Chan’s apartment was usually a safe space, where the weight of the outside world faded into the background, but tonight, the air was thick with unspoken tension. You were both physically exhausted, but it felt like there was more lingering beneath the surface.

Chan sat beside you on the couch, his arm draped around your shoulders, fingers idly playing with the fabric of your shirt. The TV flickered in the dimly lit room, but neither of you was paying attention to whatever show was playing in the background. Your thoughts were miles away, circling back to the conversation in the studio and the strange, uncomfortable tightness that had settled in your chest since.

You had been silent for too long. Normally, the quiet between you and Chan was comforting, but tonight it felt suffocating. He had been distracted, the way his fingers twitched against your shoulder, but you could feel his concern. You could tell he was debating whether or not to ask you once more what was up. He knew something was off with you, even if he hadn’t yet figured it out.

But you couldn’t keep it in any longer. Your unshed tears burning your eyes like acid.

“Do you think I’m doing enough to show you that I love you?”

The question came out before you could stop yourself, your voice soft but weighed down by the emotions you’d been pushing down all night.

You felt Chan stiffen beside you, his arm freezing mid-motion as the weight of your words sank in. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you, brows furrowing as confusion flickered across his face.

“What?” His voice was quiet his thick accent laced with surprise, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind.

You bit your lip, heart racing, unsure if you should continue. But the knot in your chest was too tight now, too heavy to ignore.

“It’s just… earlier, in the studio, you said you don’t feel like you deserve love,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I started thinking… what if I’m not showing you enough? What if I’m not loving you the way you need me to?” You swallowed.

Chan blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if to say something, but no words came out at first. He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes wide with shock and something else- something softer, more worried. His arm tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer, as though trying to shield you from your own thoughts.

“Where is this coming from?” he finally asked, his voice gentle but filled with concern. “Why would you even think that?”

You lowered your gaze, unable to meet his eyes. “Because you feel like you’re not enough,” you admitted quietly. “And if someone like you-who works so hard, who gives so much- feels that way, then maybe I’m not doing enough to help you see how much you mean to me. Maybe that’s why you feel like you don’t deserve love.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft hum of the TV in the background. Chan’s expression shifted from confusion to realization, the weight of your words settling over him like a heavy blanket. He shifted his body to face you fully now, one hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“That’s not-” He stopped himself, his brows knitting together as if he was searching for the right words, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a soothing motion. “That’s not why I feel that way. It’s not because of you. Please don’t ever think that.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening even more. “But Chan, if you’re still doubting yourself, if you still feel like you’re not enough, then how can I not wonder if it’s something I’m not doing? If it’s something I’m not saying?” You pressed your palm to your eye as to not let the tears fall.

His thumb stilled against your skin, and for a moment, Chan just stared at you, a deep frown pulling at his lips. He looked pained, like the idea of you doubting your love for him was something he couldn’t quite comprehend nor deal with.“ No, no…” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “It’s not like that. Not at all baby. Not at all.”

“Then why?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of the question. “Why do you feel like you don’t deserve love? I love you...”

Chan exhaled deeply, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest in his lap, his eyes dropping as he wrestled with his thoughts. For the first time since the conversation began, he looked vulnerable- completely stripped of the confident persona he so often carried around you. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve felt like this for a long time. Even before you.”

He paused, glancing up at you briefly before looking away again, as if it hurt him to admit this. “Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I work, no matter how much I give, it’s never enough. I think it’s more about me being stuck in my own head. It’s not about you. You’ve been more than enough for me. You've eased a lot of my insecurities love. I promise. I swear.”

“But how can you say that when you still feel like this?” you asked, your voice rising with frustration. You hadn’t meant to sound upset, but the insecurity you had been burying for hours was clawing its way to the surface, pushing you to confront the painful thoughts you hadn’t wanted to voice. “How can I believe that when you still doubt your worth?” Your lips were trembling.

Chan’s eyes widened slightly at the intensity of your words, but he didn’t flinch away. Instead, he sat up straighter, leaning closer to you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache.

“You’ve always shown me love,” he said quietly, his eyes locking with yours. “More than I ever thought I’d deserve.”

His words made your chest tighten in an entirely different way now, a mixture of relief and lingering doubt swirling in your heart.

“But I don’t know if I’m doing enough,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I’m showing you the love you need. Why can't I fix your doubts...” You looked at him sadly. "Why can't my love fix that?"

Chan’s gaze softened further, and he reached for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You show me love every day, in more ways than you realize. The little things, like how you’re always there for me, how you listen when I’m having a hard time, how you never let me feel like I’m alone.”

You blinked, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes as his words washed over you.

Chan squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with sincerity. “You don’t have to fix everything for me,” he said softly. “Just being here with me, just caring- that’s enough. More than enough.”

You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you in a way that made it hard to hold onto the doubt. “But what if it’s not?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What if you still feel like this tomorrow? Or the next day? What if I can never make it better?”

Chan’s expression softened even more, and he reached up with his free hand to gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I don’t expect you to make everything better,” he said quietly. “You’re not responsible for fixing me, and I don’t want you to think that. I’m working on it, I promise. And one day I won't think about those things anymore. But you-” He paused, his thumb brushing over your cheek once more. “You’re more than enough. You’ve always been.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for the first time that night, the knot in your chest began to loosen, the weight of your insecurities lifting slightly. You could still feel them there, lingering at the edges of your thoughts, but Chan’s presence- his warmth, his reassurance -made them feel more manageable. Less suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to doubt you…or myself.”

Chan pulled you into his arms then, wrapping you up in his warmth, his chin resting gently on top of your head. “You don’t need to apologize,” he murmured against your hair. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like that, baby. I never want you to think you’re not enough for me. You’ve given me more than I could ever ask for.”

You closed your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace wash over you. His heartbeat was steady against your ear, grounding you in the moment, reminding you that you were here, together. That you didn’t have to carry the weight of your insecurities alone.

The doubts might still be there, but with Chan by your side, they didn’t seem so overwhelming anymore.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

Chan pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “I love you,” he whispered back, his voice filled with quiet sincerity.

And for the first time that night, those doubts were finally quiet.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

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@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

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[eiralunaire]

Damian Wayne/Reader

Warning: soft, fluff, pregnant Reader.

Damian Wayne, with his usual seriousness, had taken on a new air since he found out he was going to become a father. He was always attentive, even more so after that casual conversation in which Reader mentioned how fragile a pregnancy was in the early stages. That simple information had deeply disturbed him, and although he did not admit it, the fear of losing her, or the baby, ate away at him inside.

Now, no matter what she was doing, Damian was always by her side, almost like a protective shadow. If she got up from the couch to go to the kitchen, he was behind her, making sure she did not bend too much, that she did not lift heavy things, and even that she did not stand for too long.

“You don’t need to do that, Damian. I’m fine,” she said, smiling tenderly as she tried to wash a plate.

But he, unfazed, took the plate from her hands with a gentle but firm gesture, placing it back in the sink.

“You don’t need to make unnecessary efforts. I can do it.”

Reader sighed, understanding that although he might seem excessive, his gestures were full of love and concern. The simple fact that she bent down to pick something up from the floor put him on the verge of panic.

“You read it in that book, right? The fetus is still very fragile in the first trimester,” she had told him one night while reading one of the many books about pregnancy that he had accumulated in the house. It was a casual comment, not intended to alarm him, but for Damian, the words remained like a permanent echo in his mind.

That night, he couldn’t sleep well. The image of something happening to Reader or the baby haunted him every time he closed his eyes. And from then on, his attention became more acute. If they went out for a walk, his hand always rested on the small of her back, guiding her carefully. At home, he offered to sit her down whenever she seemed tired, even if it was just a little.

“Damian, honey, I’m really okay. I’m not made of glass,” she would tell him, smiling sweetly.

But he would just nod, his jaw clenched slightly as his green eyes looked at her with concern. He was a warrior, trained to fight crime, but this new challenge, the fragility of life inside his wife, made him feel out of control.

There were nights when, even though Reader slept peacefully, he would lie awake, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. His hand, always delicate, caressed her still barely bulging belly, as if he could protect the baby just by touching her.

One afternoon, Reader tried to bend down to pick up a book she had dropped, and before she could even reach out her hand, Damian was already kneeling in front of her, taking the book and quickly standing up.

“You don’t have to bend down. I’ll take care of it,” he said in a serious tone, but with a slight concern in his eyes.

She laughed softly, caressing his cheek. “I can’t live my life without bending over from time to time. You know that, right?”

“Yes, but if there is any risk, even a small one, I prefer to prevent it.”

The intensity of his gaze told Reader that it wasn’t simply a logical precaution; for him, every little movement represented a possible threat. But at the same time, that intensity was charged with love and devotion.

When it was time to sleep, Damian made sure that Reader was completely comfortable. He strategically placed pillows to support her back and belly, adjusted the sheets, and even monitored the temperature of the room to make sure it was perfect.

And although it might seem exaggerated, Reader knew that all of this was a sign of the immense love that Damian felt, a love that had transformed him from a vigilante obsessed with justice into a husband and future father full of tenderness and, above all, fear of losing what he valued most in the world.

“I’m going to be okay, Damian. We’re doing fine,” she assured him every night, intertwining her fingers with his as she gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

“I know,” he replied, though his gaze still showed the shadow of that constant worry.

Because for Damian Wayne, every day was a battle against the fear of losing the woman he loved and the future they had begun to build together. And as long as that fear accompanied him, he would never stop being by her side, protecting her with every fiber of his being.

[mythicalmaven]

hiya! Could i please have number 1 with charles leclerc from the prompt list please? Extra smutty with a super needy reader please xxx

Racing Pulse - Charles LeClerc (request)

Masterlist ↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!driver!reader ↳word count: 1,9K ↳prompts used: 1 - 'Use my thigh" ↳warnings: reader is an f1 academy driver, charles and her are friends, thigh riding, voyeurism (kind of? if you count charles letting her use his thigh), masturbation (sort of) ↳summary: The reader is a driver for the f1 academy & finds herself very very sexually frustrated before the race, leading to Charles offering her a way to relief herself.

The roar of engines echoes through the garage, a constant reminder of the race ticking closer with every passing second. But no matter how hard you try to focus, your mind keeps wandering, pulled back to the gnawing frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface. You’re pacing, restless, the usual pre-race jitters replaced by something far more distracting. You’re wound so tight you think you might snap, and it’s only making the tension worse.

Just as you were about to kick against the wall, you catch Charles watching you from across the room. His eyes narrow, noticing your agitation, and before you can look away, he’s already making his way over, concern laced in his steady stride. “You look like you’re about to combust,” he says, his voice pitched low, so only you can hear. “What’s going on?”

You roll your eyes, trying to brush off his teasing, but the tension inside you only tightens. "Nothing, nothing," you huff, attempting to sound normal, but the frustration seeps through. "Everything is going peachy."

Charles raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Yeah, totally, that's why you were about to kick a table, huh?" he quips, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

A frustrated sigh escapes you, and you run a hand through your hair, the pent-up energy making it impossible to stay still. "Okay, fine," you admit, glancing around to make sure no one else is within earshot. "I'm just... sexually frustrated, alright?"

He blinks, then a laugh bubbles out of him, not mocking but genuinely amused by your candid confession. "Seriously? That’s what’s got you all twisted up?"

You huff again, this time more at yourself than at him. "Yes, Charles. And it’s driving me insane. And no, I’m not joking."

His laughter fades, but the smile remains, a little softer now. "I could help with that, you know," he says, surprising you with the seriousness in his tone.

You furrow your brow, tilting your head to the side. "Do you, though? I mean, this isn’t just some casual frustration. I need... well, you know."

Charles steps closer, his expression unreadable, but his eyes are locked on yours. "Yeah, I know," he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. As he looked at you, leaning against the wall, he moved to the table near you, leaning against it with his backside, his hands behind him on the table to hold him up.

You blink, processing his words. "Wouldn't it be weird," you start, hesitating slightly, "You know, most friends don’t just... do that. And besides, we don't even have time to go anywhere private, the race is starting soon"

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Friends are supposed to help each other out, aren’t they?"

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s pulling you in by your wrist, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And even if you let me help, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere."

You raise an eyebrow, confusion flickering across your face. "Charles, how—?"

"Use my thigh," he murmurs, his tone calm but with an edge of something darker. His gaze flickers to the shadows around you, the secluded corner of the garage where the angle and low light provide a surprising amount of privacy. "No one would be able to see from here. And with the noise out there, it’ll just look like we’re talking, getting close to hear each other better."

Your breath catches, the idea sparking something deep within you. The tension that’s been gnawing at you suddenly has an outlet, and the suggestion is as thrilling as it is scandalous.

For a moment, you hesitate, the absurdity of the situation battling with the undeniable pull of desire. But Charles's gaze is steady, reassuring, and there's something in the way he looks at you—like this is just another challenge, another hurdle to overcome together.

You swallow hard, nodding ever so slightly. The moment the decision is made, Charles shifts closer, his hands finding your waist as he guides you to straddle his thigh. The heat of his body seeps through the fabric of your suit, and the tension you’ve been battling for hours seems to tighten and ease all at once.

“Just relax,” Charles murmurs, his voice low and husky, the vibration of his words sending a shiver down your spine. He pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against him, the thickness of his thigh positioned perfectly between your legs. “No one can see a thing, I promise.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as his hands settle on your hips. He gives an experimental roll of his thigh, and the friction against your clothed core draws a sharp gasp from your lips. The sensation is maddening, just enough to stoke the fire that’s been smoldering inside you, but not nearly enough to satisfy.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your ear. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I can feel how much you need this.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet, but he’s relentless. His hands guide your movements, encouraging you to grind against him, each subtle shift sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The friction is delicious, the pressure just right, and it’s all the more intense because of how forbidden it feels, knowing anyone could walk by at any moment.

“Charles,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and disbelief. You feel him lean in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Let go,” he murmurs, his tone dropping to a seductive rumble. “No one can hear you over the engines. No one’s watching. It’s just us.”

His words are your undoing. You start to move with more purpose, pressing down harder, seeking out that sweet spot that will tip you over the edge. Charles tightens his grip on your hips, guiding you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that’s both torturous and perfect.

You begin to rock your hips against Charles’s thigh, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. The need that’s been gnawing at you for days flares up, making you desperate, and you can’t help but lean your head on his shoulder, seeking the comfort of his warmth as you move. Each grind sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you cling to him, trying to suppress the whimpers that threaten to escape.

Charles’s breath hitches slightly, but he stays composed, his hands steady on your hips as he guides your movements. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, lips brushing against your ear. “So needy, so desperate… What’s got you so worked up like this?”

You let out a small, frustrated whine, your voice strained with need. “I-I haven't really had.. any sex lately,” you admit, your words barely a whisper as you press yourself harder against him, trying to find the relief you crave.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Poor thing,” he coos, a teasing edge to his tone. “You know, I could always help you with that… if you want. All you have to do is say the word.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a moan as the pleasure builds, the fabric of your clothes rubbing deliciously against your throbbing core. The wetness between your legs is undeniable now, soaking through your panties, your racing suit and onto his thigh. You know he can feel it too, and the realization only makes you grind down harder, your desperation growing with every passing second.

A small, breathless moan escapes you, and in a desperate attempt to stifle the sound, you lean in and bite down lightly on Charles’s shoulder. His grip on your hips tightens, a soft groan escaping his lips as you continue to grind against him.

“Charles, I need more,” you whimper, the words slipping out in a moment of vulnerability. Your voice is heavy with desperation, your body trembling with the effort to find release.

Charles’s breath is warm against your ear as he leans in closer. “Oh, chérie, I’d give you everything you want, mon amour,” he whispers, his voice like velvet. “But you don’t have time, remember? You have a race to win.”

His words are a cruel tease, and the ache between your legs only intensifies. He continues to guide your movements, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that keeps you on the edge, but never lets you fall over it.

“If we had the time,” Charles murmurs, his tone dark and seductive, “I’d have you spread out in front of me, completely bare. I’d take my time with you, taste every inch of you until you’re begging for more.”

Your breath hitches at his words, the vivid image sending a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you. You can’t help but glance down, your eyes widening slightly when you see the clear outline of his erection straining against his jeans. The sight of him, hard and ready beneath you, only spurs you on, and you quicken your pace, grinding down on him with more urgency.

Charles’s breath grows heavier, his chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. “God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice laced with need. “I love seeing you like this, so desperate, so willing to take what you need.”

Just as you feel yourself getting close, the heat building to a fever pitch, someone walks past, calling out a quick greeting. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as you fight to keep your breathing steady. Charles’s hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he nods in acknowledgment, a casual smile on his face as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

Once the person is out of sight, Charles relaxes, letting out a breath he’s been holding. “We have to be careful,” he whispers, his tone a mix of warning and thrill. “Can’t have anyone catching us, can we?”

Without waiting for your response, he resumes the slow, deliberate grind, guiding you back into that maddening rhythm. The brief interruption only heightens the intensity, and you find yourself clinging to him, desperate for release.

“Come on,” Charles whispers, his voice both encouraging and commanding. “Go for it. I want to see you fall apart for me.”

His words, combined with the relentless friction and the feeling of his hard thigh pressing against you, push you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your body straining for that sweet release.

“I’m… I’m close,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable.

Charles responds by leaning in, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck in a barely-there kiss. To anyone watching, it would seem as if he’s simply whispering something to you, but the intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race even faster.

“Come for me, mon amour,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. “I want to feel you let go.”

The combination of his words, the sensation of his lips on your neck, and the relentless pressure between your legs sends you spiraling over the edge. Your body tenses, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the orgasm crashes through you, waves of pleasure radiating out from your core. You bury your face in Charles’s shoulder, biting down on his jacket to muffle the sound, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it.

Charles’s hands hold you steady, guiding you through every pulse and shudder, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. “That’s it,” he whispers, his tone filled with a mix of pride and desire. “Good girl. Let it all out.”

Masterlist