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harksness · 3 months ago

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Or also milf Agatha who’s just recently divorced ( from a man ) and kind of always had to be the “ perfect submissive wife “ so when she meets you at a bar when Wanda had dragged her to go out, all changes.

Agatha slowly learning she likes to be more in control and being such a good domme to you like AHHHHHHHHH I NEED HER TO BE MY MOMMY AGATHA SAUR BAD

PLLLSSS YOURE MAKING ME GO ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED SDJNIAGFLDJFG MOMMY AGATHA IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEED IN MY LIFE

I WENT WAAY TOO OVERBOARD W THIS ONE OOPS MY HAND SLIPPED AND I WROTE A WHOLE FIC WHEN I SAW THIS AT 2AM ?? i didnt know i had this in me atm but the horny brainrot for mommy agatha was just too real it's like that + the sleep deprivation possessed me

mommy agatha would fix all my problems in life rn i need her so bad auughghghghghghg

"I'm sure it's been a long time since you've had some fun. We need to find you some action."

Wanda winks at Agatha and the older woman rolls her eyes with a soft scoff as she raises her drink to her lips.

"Oh please, nothing with Ralph was ever fun. It was just... Sex."

Agatha sighs, a crushing feeling weighing down on her when she realizes just how miserable her life with that man was. How.. Unfulfilling.

You're told as a woman to marry a good man, be a good, submissive wife, make sure to make him happy. A few months ago Agatha came to the crashing realization that maybe what she wanted wasn't what she had been told to want her whole life.

Then she realized just how bad the sex actually was.

And she promptly filed for a divorce not long after. There wasn't much love lost on her end, the years had worn on her and she was ready for this a while ago. The only thing lost on her end was time. And she doesn't want to waste any more of it.

After confiding all of these heavy feelings to her dear friend Wanda, this was the idea she came up with to help. A popular bar in Westview.

"Okay, so.. It's your first night of freedom, of being able to decide exactly what you want for yourself and from sex. What's the first thing that pops into your head?"

Wanda smiles at her, resting her elbow on the table in front of her and plopping her head into the palm of her hand. Agatha pauses for a moment in thought.

What does she want?

Her bright blue eyes scan over the crowd of people in the dimly lit bar, hoping for the realization to smack her in the face.

"Honestly? A young, pretty girl that can help me learn a thing or two about myself.."

Agatha says plainly, and Wanda hums out in thought, eyes scanning over the crowd.

"Oh! What about her?"

Wanda points across the room, and Agatha's eyes catch on you. Her eyes widen as she takes you in. You're standing with your friends, pretty smile on your face, a tight dress hugging the curves of your body. She's eagerly drinking you in, eyes dragging over every little detail on your figure.

"You think she's cute."

Wanda giggles, and Agatha can tell that her friend is a bit tipsy.

"Oh she's more than cute."

Agatha admits, and Wanda's pushing herself out of her seat. The older woman looks up at her curiously.

"What are you doing?"

Wanda winks.

"Helping you get some fun."

"No, Wanda, not like this-"

All hope is lost. Wanda is already walking across the room towards you, navigating through the thin sea of people to reach you over at the bar. Agatha fights the urge to slump down in her seat and hide from embarrassment. If Wanda's going to be going about it like this, though, she might as well commit to the bit.

So, she pets her hair into place and straightens her posture as Wanda approaches you. She watches in horror as the two of you seem to quickly strike up a friendly conversation.

When Wanda gestures back towards where she's sitting and sipping on her drink and your eyes flicker over and land on her, Agatha's brain short circuits. You smile brightly and wave shyly over at her, and she thinks it's the cutest thing she's ever seen. Agatha leans forward and waves back.

Your friends are playfully pushing you towards the table, your features flushed red as you begin making your way towards her. When you reach the table, Agatha quirks a curious brow at you.

"Agatha, I'm guessing?"

You ask with a sheepish smile. The older woman nods her head.

"That's me, I assume my drunk friend said some very embarrassing things about me that somehow charmed you into coming over here?"

You laugh softly at her words, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Agatha feels her throat go dry, and she's raising her glass to her lips.

"Oh, yes, definitely. But I was more charmed when I looked over here at you."

Agatha grins up at you, butterflies making a fuss in her stomach.

"Do you want to sit with me?"

Eagerly you nod your head, and Agatha scoots over, wanting you to sit close to her. She gestures at the space she just made, hoping you'll slide in right next to her. And you do.

You tell her your name, what college you go to and what you're studying. You make fun, light small talk for a bit, enjoying getting to know each other. You share all of the embarassing things Wanda shared about her with a cute giggle, and Agatha can't even be mad because it got you to come over and sit with her.

Agatha insists on buying you a drink, and you're being so polite and insisting it's okay, you don't want her spending money on expensive cocktails for some girl she's only known for a few minutes. You keep trying to pull out your wallet when she quirks a brow at your politeness.

"Sweetheart, you're a college student. I'm assuming you don't have a ton of money lying around. Now, I do, so be a good girl and let me treat the sweet, cute little thing I'm growing rather fond of to something nice, hm?"

You freeze at her words, eyes wide, and Agatha's worried she screwed up with her forwardness. But a bright smile crosses your features, cheeks flushing as you fold your hands in your lap and nod your head.

"Y-yeah, I mean, if you insist.. Thank you very much."

You stumble through your words, and she notices how you cross your legs. Agatha feels something swirling in her chest, a bit of an ache growing between her legs at your shy compliance. A smile grows on her lips as she orders your favorite cocktail for you.

Agatha decides to be a little more bold.

"Oh, anything for you, honey.."

She coos, breath hot against your neck as she leans in and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. A smirk grows on her lips at the way you squirm, her eyes glancing down towards your chest as you heave in a deep breath.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do for you, hm?"

Agatha asks sweetly, one of her hands landing on your exposed thigh, squeezing the soft skin gently, giving you a chance to tell her to back off if you wanted to. She watches you hopefully.

You laugh shyly, nervously meeting her gaze. You part your lips to speak when the waiter sets your drink down in front of you, severing the tension like a knife. Agatha goes to pull her hand away, disappointment weighing heavy in her gut when your hand darts out to grab hers.

"W-wait.."

You mumble and Agatha's grinning excitedly.

"I mean.. You're just- like, really hot.. It's flustering me a bit.."

Your face is flushed deep red, your gaze avoiding hers.

"So you're okay with this?"

She asks, and you nod your head. She tsk's at you, raising a hand and hooking her finger under your chin as she guides you to look at her.

"Use your words, baby."

Your pupils blow wide at her words, gaze heavy with lust as your eyes flicker down to her lips.

"Yes. Yeah, I'm really okay with this.."

You mutter out softly and Agatha smiles.

"Good girl."

She melts at the way you gasp when her lips connect with yours. It's soft and sweet, and immediately you're returning her kiss, lips moving eagerly against one another. Agatha already feels addicted to your soft, sweet mouth.

You pull back first, and she's disappointed.

"Do you want to leave?"

The disappointment is quickly replaced with excitement.

"I'd love to. Would you be alright going to my place?"

You nod your head and quickly the two of you are out of there, abandoning your untouched drink on the table. Agatha is holding your hand, guiding you through and out the back of the building as you go to the back parking lot.

It's dark out, the cool night air chilling you skin as you wind between the parked cars, the lights of Agatha's car flickering as she unlocks it.

You tug softly on her hand and she turns to look at you.

"Please, kiss me again.."

You beg so sweetly for her, she's giving you what you want before she even realizes it. Agatha grabs you by the hips, fingers biting softly into your plush skin as she presses you against the side of the car. You gasp at the force, moaning softly as she presses her lips firmly into yours.

She's eager to tear more desperate words out of your mouth. It's the only thing on her mind as she nips at your bottom lip, you snaking your arms up and around her neck to pull her closer into you.

You're letting out little muffled noises into her mouth and she's in heaven, dropping her head to pepper lingering wet kisses against the column of your throat. You let out a sharp sigh.

"Fuck, you're so hot.."

Agatha groans against your skin and you let out a pathetic whimper. She raises her knee between your legs, pressing up and against your center. A moan tears out of your throat as your hands scramble to dig into her back, and Agatha feels dizzy at the look on your face. Your pretty plush lips parted so sweetly, bright eyes lidded over with desire just for her.

Oh, Agatha very quickly figured out what she wants.

She wants you, whimpering and begging and falling apart for her.

You can't control yourself as you start to softly grind against her thigh, rocking your hips back and forth as your teeth dig into your bottom lip. Agatha laughs softly as she leans down to pepper more kisses across your neck.

"Oh? Did I really work you up in the bar?"

She asks, a taunting edge to her voice. You nod your head.

"Use your words, pretty girl.."

Agatha coos, chest swelling at how eager you are to obey her.

"Fuck, yes.. I don't want to wait.."

You whimper out pathetically as you squirm against her thigh, moonlight highlighting your desperate features so beautifully for Agatha. She smirks down at you, raising a hand to cup your cheek.

Her thumb traces over your bottom lip, softly tugging it down and pressing on it before she releases it. Agatha wants to bite your bottom lip, dig her teeth in and have you gasping in pain and pleasure into her mouth so she can swallow every sweet noise you make and have it be part of her forever.

When she raises the digit once again you eagerly part your lips for her. Her smile widens as she traces the outline of your lips with her thumb before pushing it past your lips and into your mouth.

Agatha lets out a hard, controlled breath at the feeling of your hot, wet mouth wrapped around her thumb. Sucking her, pulling her in as your cheeks cave in but you hold her gaze. She leans further into you, grinding her thigh up into your wet cunt. You whimper around her thumb.

Agatha drags the digit out of your mouth, smearing your spit across your bottom lip.

"What do you want?"

She asks lowly, and you moan.

"Fuck, please, please just fuck me in your car. I don't wanna wait."

The teasing has reached its breaking point, you throw your head back and it softly thumps against the car. Agatha grins down at you, cooing softly as she affectionately runs her fingers over your cheek.

"Of course, sweet pea.."

Dropping her leg from between your thighs, the two of you take a step back so she can open the back door. Agatha gestures you in first, and you crawl over the smooth leather seats to the other side in order to make room for her.

She's following close behind, the car swaying a bit with how forcefully she slams the door shut. With a soft click, Agatha ensures the doors are locked and the two of you are secure inside.

You're laying back on the seats, propped up on your elbows as Agatha climbs over you, hungrily drinking you in.

"Fuck, what do you want me to do for you?"

Agatha breathes the words against your neck, her hands desperately roaming over your body, feeling electric with her need to touch you.

"I want you to do whatever you want to me.. Please.."

You beg and her brain short circuits. She can do whatever she wants to you? Her mind starts flying through the endless possibilities, eyes flickering over your body in hungry passes as she tries to make up her mind.

"First, lets take this off.."

Agatha tugs on your dress and you're eager to comply, she helps you pull down the zipper and your lift your hips up off the seat as the two of you get it over your head, leaving you in your underwear before her, laying on the cold leather seats.

She kneels between your spread legs, ghosting her hands over your soft thighs as she admires you spread out before her, your perfect, beautiful body lay ready for her to use however she pleases.

Agatha licks her lips before she leans down, leaving kisses all up your neck before moving down to your collarbone, littering it with more kisses that have you rubbing your thighs together before she moves downwards.

She eyes your breasts hungrily. Pushing the bra straps from your shoulders, she pulls the cups down and frees your chest, an excited sigh dropping past her lips as she dives in for them.

You immediately begin to whimper and squirm under her treatment, one hand eagerly pawing at your right breast while she runs her tongue all over your left, desperate to taste every inch of your skin.

Eventually she moves to your nipple, taking it into her mouth and eagerly sucking. You arch your back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the action. With a soft pop she releases the bud, running the tip of her tongue along it in apologetic passes.

She spends so long worshipping your breasts that your voice grows hoarse, eventually you're pawing and clawing at her desperately.

"Hm?"

Agatha asks, licking her lips as she raises her head from your chest, brown curls wild with how they're falling in disarray from her bun. You're shaking, whimpering pathetically.

"Please, please.. Touch me, Agatha..."

You hadn't noticed the tears that had welled in your eyes and she coos softly down at you, running her fingers along your cheek.

"I'm so sorry sweet girl.. I promise I'll take good care of you.."

She whispers the words apologetically against your cheek, leaving soft kisses on your skin. You nod your head before she continues downward, licking a stripe down your sternum before planting kisses on the soft skin of your tummy, dragging her lips over each of your hips as she hungrily kneads at your thighs.

The woman is crawling back on the seats, lowering herself so that she's between your thighs, licking her lips hungrily as she pulls your underwear to the side. You can't help but feel a bit flushed and embarrassed under her intense gaze, all while loving every second her adoring blue eyes are focused on you.

Immediately when her mouth latches onto your center, your eyes roll into the back of your head, your hands scrambling for purchase on the door behind you as you let out a loud, desperate moan.

"Shit.. Feels so good.."

You whimper, her mouth hot between your legs, messily running her tongue between your wet folds as she groans into you. It already feels so intense, and you know you won't last long as she begins to sloppily assault your clit.

The woman quickly figured out the question she had at the beginning of the night. This is exactly what she wants. A pretty little thing like you, so eager and pliant and willing to take whatever she gives.

It makes her shift, clenching her thighs at just how fucking turned on she is seeing you fall apart beneath her, for her. Every little moan, every word, every tremble and gasp and every bit of sweetness that spills between your thighs is all just for her in this moment, and she's hooked. She can't get enough

Agatha moves her hands to paw at the plush of your thighs, an ache growing between her legs she's never experienced before as she watches you whimper and moan out desperately for her.

Your features scrunch up, mouth hung open in pleasure as she alternates between sloppily sucking and running the flat of her tongue along the little bud.

She grins against you as she feels your thighs begin to tremble against the sides of her head, desperate, breathy noises spilling past your pretty lips as you scramble for purchase, your back arching with every jolt of pleasure that shoots through you.

She groans into you, thinking that she would be happy to suffocate between your soft thighs. As she digs her fingers into your hips and pulls you against her eager mouth, a gasp escaping your lips as the sound of your soft curses reach her ears.

The older woman leans back, and you nearly die at the sight of her pushing her wild brown hair out of her face with the back of her hand as she licks you off of her lips, humming at the taste.

She leans forward, pressing her cheek against your knee as she looks down at you with adoring blue eyes.

"Fuck, you're so pretty, baby.."

Agatha coos down at you, soft smile on her lips as she raises her fingers up to the wet mess between your thighs. You let out a desperate, wanton noise, scrambling to grab at her forearm as she drags her fingers through your folds, taking her sweet time to feel you and toy with you. Her eyes flicker over your glistening center to your pretty face, distorted with pleasure as you thrash against the seats.

"Are you doing okay, sweet girl?"

She asks mockingly, loving the feeling of your nails biting into her forearm. You twist beneath her, writhing in pleasure as you press the side of your face against the leather seat, hair spread in disarray like a halo around your head.

"Yes! Yes, please don't stop.. So good, Mommy.."

You sound so pathetic as the words escape your lips in a broken wheeze, and something snaps in Agatha when you call her that. She thought she couldn't get any more worked up and desperately horny then she already is but fuck, you keep surprising her.

"Call me that again.."

She demands, high on her power over you as she drags her soaked fingers back, carefully easing them into you. You groan out at the stretch, at the intrusion of her long, slender fingers easing you open and sliding deep inside of you.

"Mommy.. Please fuck me.. You're so good to me, Mommy, I need more.."

You didn't even hesitate to obey her, turning to look up at her with your wide, pretty eyes drunk on pleasure.

Your desperate, broken voice has her responding automatically to your pleas for her, carefully curling her long, slender finger as she fucks her hand into your sopping pussy. You're so wet and messy, there's a soft squelching noise with every thrust.

Agatha loves it. You whimper, embarrassed.

"M' sorry.. A-ah.."

You try to apologize, finding yourself unable as you throw your head back in pleasure, so sensitive under her calculated movements. She's smirking down at you, leaning forward and over you with her fingers still buried in your wet cunt.

"Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, angel.. You're absolutely perfect.."

She sighs against your neck, running her tongue along the column of your throat, enjoying the taste of your salty sweat on her tongue as she carefully slips a second finger into you. You let out a loud noise, hand flying to pull at the shirt on her back as she stretches you out, curling her fingers up to hit that sweet spot inside of you with every careful thrust.

"You got such a perfect pussy.. Mommy can't get enough.."

Agatha breathes the words hotly against your neck, her palm soaked with your arousal as she grinds it up against your clit, harshly rubbing against the little nub.

"O-oh! Shit! Fuck!"

You curse, the sensitivity getting to you. You curl your legs up and over her hips, pulling her down into you, as close as you can possibly get her and Agatha moans, her hand trapped inside of you between your two bodies as she grinds her palm against your sensitive clit.

She laughs breathily down at you before leaning down to pepper kisses up your jaw and across your pretty face.

"C'mon baby.. Be a good girl and cum for Mommy.."

The way she speaks those words so hotly against your ear, her warm breath fanning over your skin and words dripping with want and arousal, it's what tips you over the edge.

You let out a loud, broken moan as you wrap your arms around her back, pulling her tightly against you.

You throw your head back as the words burst past your lips in a desperate shout, your mind barely coherent as everything around you goes static and you seize up around the older woman.

"Oh! Mommy, cumming!"

Agatha groans at the sight of you, how you squeeze and drip around her fingers that are buried all the way to the last knuckle inside of your pussy, the heaving of your chest and how your pretty features contort in pleasure, mind numb and lost under the onslaught of pleasure that she gave you.. That she's responsible for.

Pride swells in her chest as she guides you through it, whispering soft little praises into your skin as you tremble and slowly come down from your high. With a deep gasp for air your legs fall numbly from around her waist, and Agatha leans back slightly to look at you as she carefully pulls her hand from you.

You laugh breathily, heaving for air as a wide smile crosses your features. Agatha smiles down at you as you raise your hand, pushing your messy hair from your features.

"Holy shit.. You're- wow."

You breathe out, dropping your hand to look up at her. She purses her lips proudly.

"Mmm.. I could say the same thing about you."

The older woman winks down at you, hair messy and sticking out at odd angles. Her stunning blue eyes are pinned right on you, and you don't think you could ever get enough of her gaze lingering on you.

"I barely did anything!"

You laugh and Agatha shakes her head.

"You were perfect."

Your heart swells at her words, and Agatha raises her hand. You flush at how soaked her fingers are, your arousal dripping down her palm and to her wrist. She raises it to her mouth, holding your gaze as she licks you off of her hand, dragging her tongue from her wrist, up her palm and to the tip of her fingers. Your chest heaves at the sight.

"You taste absolutely amazing."

She smirks down at you, and you smile sheepishly, pushing yourself up onto your forearms.

"Well.. Is there anything I can do to say thank you, Mommy?"

You bat your eyelashes at her sweetly, and her gaze flickers to your soft mouth, her mind running so far ahead of her with everything she wants to do with you that she can't keep up.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness/reader #agatha harkness reader insert #agatha harkness #agatha all along #smut #harksness

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rafecameronssl4t · 7 months ago

Text

What’s good, John B? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: After finding out John B poached the Camerons' scuba gear and telling Rafe about it, you forget just how crazy he can be.

Warnings: swearing, slight mention of sex, dark!rafe, possesisve/toxic!rafe, mention of gun, reader is abit of a bitch oops.

Word count: 932

A/n: based on s1 rafe + s1 scenes, idk if I like this one tbh, it was just fun to write. PLS SEND ME REQUESTS IM DESPERATE.

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

With scuba diving gear in hand, John B quietly shuts the door behind him. As he turns, he’s momentarily startled by your presence—the island’s kook princess, Rafe Cameron’s girl—“Oh, hey," you greet him, casually lifting your sunglasses onto your head while John B steals a glance behind you.

“Are you stalking us? Plotting your revenge, huh?” You lean your elbows against the railing, a sarcastic smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, you know what, why don’t you just go tell your boyfriend’s daddy I blew up the bilge on Druthers?” Your annoyance is palpable as a scoff escapes your lips.

You observe as he stows the scuba gear in his boat. “Everything’s good to go. Just toppin’ off these tanks,” he says with an awkward smile, raising your suspicions. “You know-“ before you can continue, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, causing you to cut your sentence short.

As Rafe’s familiar scent envelops you, you instinctively intertwine your fingers with his, savoring the warmth and familiarity of his touch. His lips leave a delicate trail of kisses along your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, John B lingers awkwardly nearby.

Feeling the tension in the air, John B clears his throat, breaking the silence. “What’s good, John B?” Rafe’s voice cuts through the quiet, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of amusement as he finally lifts his head, his mischievous grin adorning his face, contrasting with the seriousness of the situation.

“What are you- uh- doin’ here? On my boat?” Rafe questions, gesturing around as if to emphasize his point. “Isn’t this your daddy’s boat?” John B tilts his head, while Rafe’s grip around your waist tightens. “What the hell are you doing here, Pogue?” Rafe’s words slice through the tension, his patience fraying at the edges.

“Uh I don’t know if you’ve forgotten Rafe, but I work here. Yep.” John B says, climbing into his boat as Rafe rolls his eyes. “I still don’t know why Dad hired him,” Rafe mutters under his breath, his words carrying a mix of annoyance and confusion. Despite his attempt to keep it quiet, his comment is just audible enough for you to catch, eliciting a smile from you at the subtle jab. “I’m just filling up these tanks,” John B points at the scuba gear. Rafe nods slowly in acknowledgment.

“Uh-huh. Well, move along then,” Rafe waves him off with a dismissive gesture, his expression tinged with annoyance, before he gently tugs you by the hand, leading you back towards the house. As he guides you, his fingers instinctively intertwine with yours, his touch both possessive and protective.

“I don’t want to see you talking to him ever again, got it?” Rafe’s voice rumbles against your hair, his warm breath tickling your skin as he leans in closer, his grip on you tightening with each step.

Feeling the dryness in your throat, you quietly rise from the bed, careful not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend. Glancing around, you spot Rafe’s shirt haphazardly discarded on the floor from the previous night. You pick it up and slip it onto your body, its fabric enveloping you with a comforting familiarity. Moving silently, you leave the room and make your way to the kitchen.

As you open the fridge, the creak of the rolling doors draws your attention. Your movements halt abruptly as you come face to face with John B. His surprise is evident; he's frozen in place, caught between the two doors with scuba gear in hand, staring at you.

A sudden realization hits you—you’re only wearing Rafe’s shirt. Embarrassed, you tug it down, trying to cover yourself more adequately. "What are you doing here?" you ask, your voice a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"Uh- I'm just dropping off the scuba gear." He awkwardly steps inside, his eyes darting around as if he's unsure where to look. "What are- what are you doing... here?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, incredulous. Was he being serious? "It's my boyfriend's boat," you say pointedly, your tone making it clear just how obvious the answer should have been. John B's face flushes with embarrassment.

"It's also the only place with air conditioning, so Rafe and I are staying here," you add, but before you can finish, John B rudely cuts you off. "Rafe is here?" His tone is sharp, almost accusatory.

You purse your lips, irritated by the interruption. "Yeah. And I don't think he'll be too happy seeing you here again." You cross your arms, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

Deciding to change the topic, your eyes flicker down to the scuba tanks in his hands. "Did you top up the tanks?" you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral but firm. John B's eyes widen slightly before he averts his gaze. "Uh... no. The power's down, so the compressors were off." He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

"So, you're sneaking onto our boat at 5 a.m. with empty tanks?" you retort, tilting your head to the side and nibbling on your bottom lip. Your piercing stare makes him even more nervous. He fumbles for words, glancing around as if looking for an escape. "I'll... I'll make sure to tell Ward," you add, your voice laced with an unspoken threat.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, then turn back around to get a cup, signaling the end of the conversation. Your movements are deliberate, each one emphasizing your displeasure as you busy yourself, leaving John B to contemplate his next move in silence.

"Okay, okay. Cool. Cool," his voice trails off, a nervous edge betraying his attempt at nonchalance. "Just drop these off," he adds hastily, the clattering of the tanks echoing in the confined space. "Yeah, yeah, the middle of the room is fine," you retort, your tone laced with sarcasm as you shoot him a disapproving look.

"Yeah, this is pretty much what he told me to do," he offers weakly, his gaze shifting uncomfortably under your scrutiny. "Bye!" you dismiss him, turning away to retreat back to your room. But just as you begin to leave, John B interrupts again.

"Actually, you know, what- what exactly were you gonna tell Ward?" His laughter sounds forced, a feeble attempt to mask his anxiety. You feign innocence, shrugging casually. "Nothing much. Just that you poached their scuba gear," you reply, your words dripping with casual indifference.

John B's panic is palpable, his eyes widening in alarm. "Calm down, John B. Don't get your knickers all tied up in a knot. I'll tell them what really happened," you reassure him with a sly smile. "The compressors were down, right?" Without waiting for his response, you pivot on your heels and make your way back to Rafe.

"What took you so long?" Rafe's voice is muffled against the pillow as he reaches out for you, his eyes still heavy with sleep. You gently slide into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "John B was here," you respond quietly.

At the mention of John B's name, Rafe perks up, his expression shifting from drowsy to alert in an instant. "John B was here? What the fuck was he doing here?" He throws the blankets off of him, the sudden motion jolting him awake as he hurriedly begins to dress.

"Rafe," you try to interject, but he doesn't seem to hear you over his rising agitation. "Rafe!" you raise your voice slightly, finally catching his attention. "He's gone now," you reassure him, though the tension in the air remains palpable.

"Well, what was he doing on my boat this early in the morning and- and what did I fucking tell you about not talking to that pogue, hmm?" Rafe's voice is sharp, his grip on your forearm tight as he confronts you, his frustration evident.

"He poached your scuba gear, Rafe. And he was trying to sneak them back without anyone noticing," you explain calmly, meeting his gaze evenly as you observe the conflicting emotions playing across his features.

"Shit. Wait until dad hears about this," Rafe mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite his anger, a familiar gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Walking out to the backyard to retrieve your sunglasses, the warm sunlight filtering through the trees, you feel a sudden grip on your arm. Startled, you turn to see John B standing there, his expression tense with anger.

"What-" you begin, but he cuts you off sharply. "I just got fired because of you, and I know you can't imagine that, but some people need jobs so that they can eat," he accuses, his voice dripping with resentment. In his frustration, he slaps away the sunglasses you were holding, the clatter as they hit the ground echoing in the quiet backyard.

Before you can respond, the tension is shattered by the sound of Rafe's voice. "What the fuck do you think you're doin', man?" His tone is menacing as he strides over to where the two of you are standing, his demeanor radiating fury.

Rafe's sudden appearance catches John B off guard, but he stands his ground, his jaw clenched in defiance. "Y/n, get your ass inside," Rafe commands without even sparing you a glance, his attention solely focused on John B.

"But-" you attempt to protest, but Rafe's next words cut you off sharply. "Now!" His voice is commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. With a timid nod, you obey, hurrying back into the comforting embrace of Tannyhill.

Around 10 minutes later, Rafe strides back into his room, his footsteps heavy with a mix of frustration and determination. As soon as you see him, you jump up from the bed and wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. He's slightly taken aback by the sudden gesture but responds by pulling you closer, his embrace firm and reassuring, his hand gently stroking your hair.

"Are you okay? What happened?" you ask, concern evident in your voice as you pull back to look at him. It's only then that you notice the bruise forming around his eye, and your worry deepens.

"Yeah, don't worry about me. That pogue will soon find out he fucked up," Rafe says, his voice edged with a quiet resolve as he gazes off into the distance, his thoughts elsewhere.

"What- Rafe-" you begin, but he brushes past you and opens his drawers, pulling out a gun. Your heart drops at the sight, fear coursing through your veins. "Rafe," you whisper, your voice trembling with apprehension. "Please don't do anything stupid, please."

He turns to face you, the gun in his hand, but his expression softens into a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, sweetheart. He won't be bothering us anymore very soon," he reassures you, his tone calm yet filled with a chilling determination that sends a shiver down your spine.

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xxsunoosprincess · 10 months ago

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hi, can i reqs enha reaction to waking up with their back all scratched up after a long night with their s/o?

back to my regularly scheduled content 😋 absolutely delicious request

Enhypen’s reaction to seeing the marks you left on their back. (OT6)

pairings: enhypen legal line x reader

warnings, 18+, minors DNI, mentions of sex, handjobs, and marking

Heeseung

Shy baby…. doesn’t tell you because he doesn’t want you to feel bad (and also secretly wants you to do it again). When you wake up he is fully dressed and sitting in bed, back facing away from you which is weird. He’s never awake this early and is he watching you sleep?? Can’t pry what’s wrong out of him so you end up wrestling him down and flipping up his shirt, exposing the marks (and making his cock throb). Repeated tells you it’s not a big deal but walks around with his shirt tucked in like a dork just in case anyone else tries to pull a fast one on him.

Jay

Loves that shit. Type of boyfie that sends you $200 to get your nails done all pretty. Taking care of you is his top priority!! Plus, he loves the way a nice manicure looks when you have your hands wrapped around his cock. He can also feel the scratch marks you leave down his back that much better with a nice set of acrylics. When he catches sight of them in the morning, you will have another “investment” sitting in your bank account immediately.

Jake

Shakes you awake after he takes a shower and the body wash packs an extra sting. Once he has you up and sufficiently panicked… “It’s important, wake up!!” Is not the most delicate way to wake up your partner… he pulls off his shirt and flips over to show you the damage. Thinks he has a rash at first, but it doesn’t take much to deduce what the red lines running down his back are from. Once you tell him, he switches to “Look what you did to me! You wild animal!” all whiny and rosey cheeked. Makes you kiss it better.

Sunghoon

Likes it and makes sure everyone knows about it. “Oh these? Y/n was over last night” cue groans from the other members. After that they stop asking but he makes sure they are visible. Will probably even ask you to do it again and leave marks along his shirt line so they “accidentally” show. And when you do, he makes sure to reward you with an extra nice pounding that night <3

Sunoo

Sweet blushing baby!! He sees it in the mirror while doing his morning skincare and shrieks. It obviously attracts the attention of everyone in the dorm, but he runs back to his room with his shirt clutched to his chest and back pressed against the wall. He finally slips into the room and sees you sitting up in bed, clearly just awoken by the chaos happening behind the door. Jeers of “damn Sunoo I didn’t know you were a freak like that!” from Jake as he turns around to show you what all the commotion was about sends you into your own fit of laughter.

Jungwon

The first time it happened he didn’t even notice. Goes about his day until he is at dance practice and is getting sweaty so he takes his shirt off. Sunoo’s scandalized gasp is all he heard before a shirt is thrown at his face with a hissed “are you crazy? what if the managers see?”. Oops. Not so secretly happy about it. Now he walks around the dorms shirtless after a romp with you in the sheets just so he can show off a bit.

END.

a/n: short lil thang to get back into the swing of things after everything that went down today. Good lord… thinking about getting two requests out tonight to make up for deleting last nights :( also reminder that requests are open for 100 follower event!! anyways, hope you enjoy! xx - princess

taglist: @sunoofairyofsass @cha0thicpisces (fill out form or dm to be added)

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elliesbebegurl · 2 months ago

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Hold On Tight

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A/N: this is my first time writing again in A WHILE. also my very first time writing this kinda stuff iykyk pls don’t come for me y’all. THIS IS SO SHORT IK. poorly written aftercare! also not proofread oops

warnings: smut w little to no plot, no use of y/n, reader not described as femme or masc, mean dom!abby, brat!reader, afab reader, no features are specified, fingering (r! receiving) edging (r! receiving), overstimulation (r! receiving) [not for long though sorry not sorry]

also abby’s strap is referred to as her dick 🫶

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A whine slips out of your mouth as you were once again denied of your climax.

Abby has been playing with you for hours now. You were a complete brat the day before, and you were now facing the consequences.

She was ruthless. Smiling to herself; turning the vibrator to the highest setting as she circles it directly on your clit.

For her, you were just so easy to read.

Once your back arches and your legs start to shake as the look of pure ecstasy is written on your face, she stops.

“Y’know babe, this was supposed to be a punishment,” She chuckles as she slides her middle finger down to your entrance and feels how wet you really are.

“—but it seems like you’re enjoying this a little bit too much.” She taunts.

Your mouth went agape as if you were to say something back, but you’re stopped when she suddenly dips her middle and index finger into your seeping cunt.

“Fuck, Abby—” Your breath hitches from the sudden entrance of her fingers.

“Did I say you could talk?” She gives you a stern look.

You lazily chuckle, rolling your hips against her fingers that were sliding in and out of you at a torturingly slow pace. “Didn’t say I couldn’t.”

You’ve always acted like a complete brat despite your position—it was simply just a part of your plan, since Abby gets to put you in your place. Every. Single. Time.

Abby raises her eyebrow in amusement as she leans closer, you faces now only inches away. The faux cock attached to the harness on Abby’s hips touch your inner thigh as she delves her fingers deeper into your cunt. Abby curls them upwards, massaging the spot she knew very well would send you to over to the edge. Increasing her pace, your mouth hungs agape as your tits slightly move up and down from how hard she was fucking you with her fingers.

“You still haven’t learned your fucking lesson, have you? Hm?”

Before you even realize it, Abby has managed to manhandle you so you were on all fours, roughly pushing your face down on the the pillow below you before you feel a sharp slap on your cunt.

You cry out, and Abby gives you no other warning before she delves in two fingers—in which you let out a hiss at the sudden stretch. Not that you weren’t soaking enough for her to slide right in. She only gave you a few pumps before removing her fingers altogether. You couldn’t help but arch your ass up—trying to get her to show at least a bit of mercy.

Your body covered with a sheen layer of your own perspiration, hairs stuck to your forehead, and your ass arched up perfectly for her to see how your cunt glistens from how long she’s had you waiting.

You hear Abby let out chuckle before her cock starts rubbing up and down your slit. With a hard smack of her heavy hand landing on your ass, she almost effortlessly slides in, immediately filling you to the brim.

You let out a guttural moan in relief, finally being filled up like you begged her to hours ago.

But that relief quickly fades as Abby’s pace gradually becomes unforgiving, turning you into a babbling mess as she relentlessly pounds into you.

“A-Ab!—oh, fuck!”

“Uh-uh. Don’t start with me. You wanna make up for how you acted yesterday, don’t you? Take it. Fucking. Take. It.” Abby pants, emphasizing each word with a harsher thrust, almost knocking the air out of you.

Abby then only adds up to it—putting you in a headlock as she continues to pound into your pussy. Your mouth is hung agape, brows knitted in pleasure as you felt yourself teetering closer and closer to the edge.

In an attempt to ground yourself, you have a death grip on her bicep, marking small crescent shapes on her skin. But you were too far in to notice.

“That’s it, baby, hold on tight for me.” Abby chuckles lowly.

Tears were now streaming down your face as you felt the band in your stomach tighten even more than the previous ones you felt from earlier. Of course, Abby notices—with you not letting her pull out so easily this time. She only slows down her pace for a moment as she grabs the vibrator from earlier, before continuing her rough pace.

Your mind is too fuzzy to figure out what was going on—only letting out a loud yelp when Abby presses the vibrator against your already abused and swollen clit. Immediately, your thighs start to shake, a telltale sign that you were about to cum. Abby smirks to herself as she brings her mouth to the shell of your ear.

“Go on, baby. You’ve earned it. Know you want to.” Abby gives her permission, and you were cumming in an instant. Your climax runs you over like a bus—having been teased for the whole day. Your moans were loud and uncontrollable as Abby never slowed down her hips.

When you finally rode out your orgasm, that’s when you start to squirm. Because you realized that Abby was nowhere near stopping.

Your brain was now a total mush, so you could only try to writhe away from the toy pressed against you clit, and the Abby’s cock that was reaching the spots inside you that made your world fucking spin.

But there was no escape.

You couldn’t move from Abby’s grip even when you tried, her strap reaching even deeper when you tried to move away from the vibrations. You could only take what Abby was giving you.

“Aww,” Abby mocks.

“You wanted to cum so bad earlier, didn’t you? Now, I’m going to make you cum—until I think you’ve learned your lesson. You hear me?” Abby says, her pace finally slowing down, but her thrusts now reaching impossibly deeper. She lets you take a breather, removing her arm around your neck as she noticed you went completely nonverbal from your last orgasm.

Abby’s voice turns gentle, stopping her movements as she checks in on you.

“Hey, baby. You okay?” She softly asks, tucking your disheveled hair away from your face. There, she was met with your dazed eyes, flashing her a lazy, toothy grin which then makes her chuckle.

“Do you wanna stop?” Abby checks in, caressing your hair.

“A break would be nice…” You hoarsely reply and Abby nods, helping you lay on your back as your legs immediately gave up—laying flat on the bed.

“M’gonna go get a towel so I can clean you up, ‘kay? I won’t be long.” Abby gets up from the bed.

You weakly grab onto her arm. “But you haven’t even…”

Abby clicks her tounge, shaking her head with a small smile. “I don’t mind. Gotta take care of you first. You can make it up to me tomorrow if you’re not too sore,” She sends you a wink and a quick peck on the lips before going to get a towel.

…and some new sheets.

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A/N: THIS WAS SOOO RUSHED BUT IT WAS SO FUN TO WRITE. THANK YOU ALL FOR READING AHHH

IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS, I’LL GLADLY DO MY BEST TO WRITE EM!

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby tlou #tlou #tlou2 #abby the last of us #wlw post #abby x reader #abby x masc!reader #abby x fem!reader

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pasteidolons · 4 months ago

Text

pincushion - jww

pairing: tailor!jeon wonwoo x bookbinder!reader genre: 1960's, romance, angst, fluff, smut (MDNI 18+) warnings: swearing, alcohol, smut (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex), no use of y/n, afab reader, an overabundance of 60's references oops word count: 19.9k summary: when a newly appointed tailor stops into your shop one autumn morning, you're unaware the impact he would have on your life for better or for worse.

1963, Autumn. The small knife in hand cuts through the thin leather with relative ease, stopping at the point you’d marked with a small piece of chalk, you switch to cut the other end of the material. You eye the coffee sitting on the opposite end of your work bench, watching the steam rise from the cup that you’d barely taken a drink from. It’s only nine in the morning and you hadn’t slept well the night before, had there not been any orders to fill you would have slept in a while longer.

With the leather finally cut into its allotted pieces you go to move to the bound paper you were trying to cover before you hear someone walk in. The chimes above the door at the front of your shop sound off with a soft resonance, the same sound that had echoed the room for years. Footsteps tread carefully into the center of your shop, you can’t eye the stranger from your closed off workshop unless you open the heavy wooden door.

A quiet “Hello?” rings out, they sound apprehensive and unfamiliar to you. There’s a tinged worry that treads on the lone word, leaving you all the more perplexed as you set down the leather and the semicircular knife onto your workshop table and head out into the main gallery of your shop.

“Can I help you?” Question falling from your lips as soon as you begin to push open the oak door, finding a taller man looking down at one of the fabric laden books on one of the display tables.

“Oh,” his attention turns to you from the book, to the doorway you’d entered from and then back to you. The horn-rimmed glasses adorning his face slipping down the bridge of his nose. “I’m here to pick up an order for Seungcheol Choi.” His slender hand moves from its once stagnant position to push the glasses back up before moving to his right-side front pocket, “I can show you the receipt if you need it—”

“There’s no need,” you shake your head and raise your hand. Seungcheol had been a longtime customer of your family’s shop, you assume it’s mostly because of a mutual acquaintance with the Hong clan, but you would never be the one to edge into that conversation unprovoked. “I’ll go and grab your order,” a short smile and you’re turning on your heels and striding into your storeroom/workshop once more.

When you walk back out a few moments later, the books wrapped in brown paper to protect their covers, the stranger is once again looking down at the assortment of books atop your display tables.

“So,” you begin as you hold out the bound books to him, “are you new? I don’t think Seungcheol has sent you before.”

He takes the books gingerly, his gaze returning to the soft leather-bound journal after he gives you a short nod in thanks. As if it took him a moment to process the question he blinks and turns back to you, “Sorry— My name’s Wonwoo Jeon. I started working for Seungcheol last week.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you nod, trying to register the face with the name as comprehensively as you could. “Tell him to give me a ring when he needs his next order, I know he goes through those fairly quickly.”

“I will,” Wonwoo smiles, “Before I go do you think I could buy this?” His head nods down to the maroon colored leather-bound journal he’d been eyeing earlier, “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

A small smile gracing your lips, “Of course, it’s unlined though. Is that alright?”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he says as you pick up the book as his hands were already burdened with his boss’ order. “How much do I owe you?”

“No charge,” you shake your head, fingers tightening along the spine. It’s smooth but the ridges of the leather run coarse under your touch, “Think of it as a congratulatory gift for getting a job under Choi. I know he has a reputation for being a bit of a—”

“Hard-ass?” Wonwoo muses, eyes widening as he realizes how he’s just insulted his boss. “And really, I can pay for that, I’m sure it must’ve taken you a while to make it.”

“I’m not sure if that’s the exact term I was looking for, but it does fit,” you laugh, raising the book up. “Don’t worry about it, do you want me to wrap it?”

“If you could,” he offers a smile as you move to the roll of brown paper atop the register table.

It only takes a minute for you to cover it, you’d done hundreds, if not thousands, of wrappings for novels and books. Once you finish tying the twine bow atop the journal, you gently stack it on the books Wonwoo holds.

“I hope to see you here again, Mr. Jeon. That is, if Seungcheol doesn’t scare you off.”

“He’s like a weird mix of my dad and what I’d expect Hardy Amies to be,” you weren’t sure exactly who Amies is or what Wonwoo’s father was like, but you did know Seungcheol. Oddities and all. “And don’t worry, I have a stronger resolve than most,” he shoots you a wink before spinning on his heels and heading towards the door. He calls out, “Thanks again for the book!” before shoving the door open with his hip and losing himself in the crowd of the street outside.

1963, Winter There was nothing quite like the holiday season in New York. Shops elevated the grandeur of their storefronts to catch the eye of window shoppers. Your own shop had seen an influx of patrons, as was typically the case around this time of year. But the demands were great, your hands had the slew of papercuts and hastily put on bandages to show it. Not that you minded it all too much, it was great revenue and it had paid for the camel hair coat you donned this evening.

The city was abuzz with life and festivities along almost every street, and while the excitement from Hanukkah and Christmas had died down over the last few weeks, most now looked towards the reining in of a New Year as December thirty first arrived.

“We’re going to be late,” Vernon’s arm slides under yours, the crux of his arm locking into yours as his pace quickens along the dimly lit street. The sound of his derbies clicking against the pavement reverberating around the nearly empty row of houses.

“It’s ten and we’re going to a New Year’s Eve party, I doubt we’ll be late, Vernon.” You let out a scoff, fumbling with your bag for a moment, not sure what you were searching for in the first place. The streetlamp’s orange glow does not aid you in deciphering the numbers etched into the doorways of the homes.

“Says the person who took five years to pick out a jacket, I’m surprised we got out of your apartment before my hair turned gray— Wait a minute,” his fingers of his free hand trailing up to the dyed platinum locks on his head as he turns back to shoot you a glare, “It did.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” eyes rolling, you nudge him with your shoulder “It’s not my fault your stylist bleached you instead of dyeing you.”

“I feel like an idiot, they can’t even see me to fix it for another week.” He groans as the pair of you make your way to a brownstone tucked away neatly into one of the city’s streets. It would be innocuous from the others aligning the strip had you not been able to hear the gentle buzz of chatter and the occasional laugh drift out from the screened door.

“Did Hong invite the whole block?” Vernon murmurs as he lets go of your arm so that he can jump up the short handful of stairs to the front door two by two.

“It would explain how dead the rest of the street seems,” Musing, you follow him, more carefully as you’d always seemed prone to falling up stairs. The voices grow in volume and now you can even hear the scratchy sound of some music floating from the door. There’s no one at the door to greet you when you walk in, just an array of faces that you seem to recognize while others are brand new acquaintances, Vernon and you drop off your coats in a nearby closet and shuffle your way inside in search for the nearest drink station.

“I’d say his house is beautiful, but I can barely see anything. How does he know this many people?” Vernon questions as he slides out of the way of someone’s elbow almost hitting him in the stomach. “All I want is to get slightly drunk tonight but I bet the alcohol’s already gone.”

“It’s the Hong household you know that’s not going to happen,” a snicker leaves you before you feel a gentle tapping on your shoulder. Stopping in your tracks you’re fully ready to meet Joshua Hong’s smirk and subsequent banter, but it takes you a minute to realize that it wasn’t your childhood friend that had garnered your attention at all; instead, it’s a somewhat less familiar face.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Wonwoo’s cheeks are slightly flushed with a smile, the contents of his champagne glass half-empty as he poses the question, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, sure.” You return his smile, nodding your head as he begins to walk off, only stopped by someone calling out to him.

“I didn’t know Pincushion would be here,” Vernon’s voice draws nearer behind you, it seems like he realized you weren’t trailing after him anymore. You feel his hand land on your shoulder as he continues to talk to Wonwoo, “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He taps his shoe on the floor, only stepping forward a little bit to let someone pass by behind him.

“Pincushion?” You question, looking from Vernon to Wonwoo with a quizzical look on your brow.

“That thing he wears around his wrist every time he comes in?” Vernon shrugs, “I couldn’t remember his name the first time I saw him, but I could remember that. Hence: Pincushion.”

“Is that what it’s called?” You recall the ball of velvety looking green fabric you’d seen on Wonwoo’s wrist the last handful of times he’d come to pick up the tailor shop’s orders.

“Yeah my grandma used to have one and I stole the needles from it to use as swords for my toys when I was a kid,” his shoulders shrug as he looks past Wonwoo and spots something beyond him. “I see one of those guys with a tray of drinks, I’ll get back to you in a bit.” And with that he’s off, sliding around you and Wonwoo to brush his way through the crowd in a frantic sprint to grab himself a glass.

“Does he know that there’s an open bar in the other room?” Wonwoo asks aloud as he watches your friend disappear into the crowd.

“Not yet but give him twenty minutes and I’m sure he’ll be all over it.” Vernon wasn’t one to drink heavily often, it was more of a holiday thing where he only did it if he knew he wasn’t going into work for the next few days. Needless to say, Christmas and New Years are binge drinking galore for him.

“So, book binding? How’d you get into that line of work?” You’d been so concentrated on looking for your friend’s brightly colored hair that you almost didn’t hear Wonwoo when he asked.

“Family business, dad’s too sick to come in.” Your eyes flickering over to him, a small shrug of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” his brow contorts into worry for a moment, as if he’d offended you somehow.

“Don’t be, if anything I think he’s playing it up a bit just so mom has to be around more often,” You smile, it was really only minor back issues but the doctor had prescribed bed rest and your father had been milking it for months now.

“Smart man,” a short laugh into his drink before he takes a sip from his glass. “So, how do you know Joshua?”

“Old family friend, plus he’s as rich as all get out so it’s nice to see what it’s like.” You note, looking up to the chandelier overhead. If it were anything but Tiffany you’d be surprised. “What about you?”

“You didn’t hear this from me but Seungcheol might be secretly dating one of his sisters and she invited the whole shop just as an excuse to see him.” The two of you lock eyes, a playful smirk on his lips dancing in the warm glow of the room. “I’m not complaining.”

“I don’t doubt it,” chuckling for a moment, you then look up as if you’ve realized something. “I should probably go and greet the host; can you imagine how rude of a guest I’d be if I didn’t?”

A ceding nod as he steps away from you, gesturing with his glass towards a side room off the main hall, “I think I saw him in there a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks, Wonwoo,” you move to pass him, heading towards the doorway before you stop for a moment, your head tilting in question, “Want to meet back up later?”

“I’d love that,” a gentle thud in your chest as you nod at him, beginning to move again and question the feeling that had plagued you enough to ask him that.

You don’t find Joshua in that room, or the next, or even upstairs in his own bedroom. You do, however, find him on the second-floor fire escape, the butts of several cigarettes at his feet and a glass of whiskey in his hand. It’s cold, had you known this would be where you’d speak you would’ve brought your coat with you.

“Joshua Hong,” You begin, crouching down to duck through the open window, catching him as he’s begun to lean against the brick exterior of his home, “Hiding away from your party again?”

“The guest of the hour,” A grin as you walk towards him, “How are you? I haven’t seen you at all in the past few months.”

“I’m good, good… It’s been so hectic with the seasonal shopping and all, who knew journals were a hot commodity for gift-giving?” You sigh, elbows resting against the cold fence of the escape. The time between now and the last you’d seen him had been great, but it had always been far and few in between when it came to his jet setting tendencies.

“Sounds hellish for sure,” Musing, he takes a sip from his glass, the scent of whisky hitting your nose as it nears. His other hand rests atop the rusted metal of the fire escape, impatiently tapping as he looks out into the backyard of his home.

“And what about you, Mr. Start-Up? Tear down any more conglomerates recently?” You query, noticing that he was on one of his inward treks again. Something must’ve come up with his family.

A snicker, as he offers out his glass to you, noticing that your hands were painfully empty, “No, but we’re working on a pretty big acquisition right now. It’s all mind games and if I didn’t make a shitload of money I’d be out of this business.”

“Lucky you though, you’re able to retire at thirty-five if you really wanted to,” musing as you swirl around the contents of the glass, the ice inside clinking around.

He laughs, the cold air mixing with his breath in plumes of white that spiral into the nighttime. You push yourself from the wall, bringing the glass to your lips and downing the rest of the contents as quickly as you can, “This isn’t the time to be hard on yourself, Joshua. I think the countdown’s about to start,” a look at the small wrist watch on your wrist, the time indicating that you had about five minutes until the new year began.

“Shit,” the word elongated exasperatedly as he leans over to catch a glance at the clock face, “Let’s get back out there.”

The two of you amble inside, your cheeks cold with the winter air and hands a little stiff from holding the glass for too long. You set it down on one of the various demilunes scattered around the hall as you make your way back into Joshua’s living room. He’s lost along the way, pulled into a group of businessmen to talk or fawning girls to cajole with, you’re not sure which at this point. All you’re trying to do is find someone you know.

You can try to push through the crowds to find Joshua, but at this point it’d be like trying to part the Red Sea with your own two hands and it was infeasible to say the least. Or you could head to one of the drink stations around the house in hopes to find Vernon, but he was as elusive as a snake and it’d be a miracle if you could find him before the clock struck midnight.

“Sixty!” A choir of voices ring out from a nearby room, you think you can hear Joshua’s voice rising above them all, but it might also be your ears playing tricks on you.

“Are they really counting down the entire minute?” The voice next to you startled you so much that you jumped, turned, and saw Jeon Wonwoo looking off in the direction of the countdown. His brow furrowing in confusion, “I at least thought it’d be the last ten seconds or something.”

“Jesus Wonwoo,” hand over your heart as you try and catch your breath, “You almost scared me to death.”

A laugh, “Sorry about that, I’m a little light on my feet.”

It also didn’t help that you could barely hear with the throng of people surrounding you. The gaiety electrifies the room, as it does the entire world when on the eve of a brand-new start.

“Did you want me to help you find one of your friends? I’m sure they couldn’t have gone too far,” his height somewhat advantageous to him as he scans the crowd, not seeing you shake your head as the countdown reaches thirty.

“I think I’m fine just staying with you,” you don’t notice the way he tenses ever so slightly at your words, a more rouge tint to his cheeks as he looks back to you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure?” Eyes widening as your gazes’ lock and you feel the familiar warmth creeping up the back of your neck.

“If that’s okay with you?” You question, the countdown hitting fifteen.

“That’s great— fine, it’s— yeah,” he trips and stumbles over his words, trying to find solid ground somewhere on the confab plain. It’s at that moment the countdown comes to ten, and the pair of you join in for the last seconds of 1963.

Five, four, three, two —

“Happy New Year!”

The clock had struck midnight and he was the closest one to you, you can’t remember if it was you or him that pulled the other closer to share a kiss. The kiss was chaste, but it resounded around your ribcage like the booming of the fireworks being shot off a distant skyscraper. A smile on your lips as you mouth back your own, “Happy New Year!” Despite it being innocent in nature, you know with the way the feeling buzzes on your lips you yearn for something more.

1964, Early Spring. The two of you’d spent time together since that evening, outside of that transactional relationship formed in the commerce of you selling your journals and him picking them up for Seungcheol whenever he could. It was outside of that realm, more personal as the days, weeks and months had transgressed.

By some miraculous circumstance, and no less of your incessant mentioning, you and Wonwoo had been seeing each other on a regular basis

“Seungcheol?” The door of the tailor shop opens with nothing short of a struggle. The heavy oak pressing back against your foot as you pry it open, your hands too full to push it.

“Need some help?” A voice behind you, startling you so much that you almost drop the large stack of books in your hand. You look over your shoulder to see Wonwoo standing behind you, his head tilted as if to question how you’d made it this far on your own.

“Thanks,” allowing him to brush past you, he steps into the shop and holds the door open wider as you enter. “Where is everyone?” Noticing that the usual handful of other tailors didn’t seem to be aimlessly roaming the store waiting for a customer to arrive.

“Busy,” He notes, motioning for you to hand him the plethora of journals. Obliging willingly, you hand them off and stretch your arms, surely the strain from the hardbacks would pull your finger muscles. “There’s been an emergency tailoring session, some big shot’s in town and needs alterations done for some party they’re throwing tomorrow night.”

“Explains why no one came to pick up the order today,” you muse, “Shouldn’t you be helping with that?”

“I will be in about an hour,” he sighs as if he’s already imagining the work that he’ll need to put in this evening. “But someone had to watch over the shop today.”

“Do you want company while you wait?”

You’re not sure how you’d gotten roped into staying with Wonwoo until well after the sun had set and the last customer had come in for the day. The lights of the shop are off, save for the small lamp that sits above Wonwoo’s workstation. He sits at his little desk in the back corner of the shop as he sews and hems away. His eyes scan the notes the patron had given when they’d dropped off the clothes, you had to squint to try and read the messy scrawl etched onto the parchment. You sit some desks away, flipping through some editorial detailing the up and coming designers of the fashion world but nothing was particularly catching your eye.

“Three alterations in one night, Seungcheol’s really trying to work us to the bone,” Wonwoo sighs exasperatedly, his hands falling atop his desk, a needle held between his right index and thumb while his other hand holds the garment he’d been attending to.

“Doesn’t it take a week to do something for just one piece?” You ask, not too versed on the schematics of it all, just acutely aware of when your father had needed suits adjusted as he aged.

“Normally,” he glances over to you, a hazy impatience settling behind his brow as he thinks to the two other pieces he was set to mend. “But it’s nine-thirty now and the guy wants them done by noon tomorrow,” Wonwoo almost barks out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, “I didn’t even get the roughest pieces, Mingyu’ll be up all night and finish five minutes beforehand if he’s lucky.”

“What are they making him do?” Magazine set aside as you stand to stretch, your legs numb with the fuzziness of pinched nerves.

“Some simple inseam stuff like I’m doing, but also taking in a few jacket sleeves and fixing shoulder divots,” He says as if you know what he’s talking about, upon seeing the puzzled expression that paints itself on your face he explains a little more, “It’s nearly impossible to do with the amount of time we’ve been given.”

“Why’d Seungcheol accept this job then?” Pins and needles poking through your skin as you walk over to him to take a look at what he was working on.

“Because the client’s paying us a fortune,” setting the needle down he pulls a pin from the cushion around his wrist to situate it into an odd angle in the fabric in front of him, “I might actually be able to take you on a real date if I finish this in time.”

“I’ve kind of liked the ice cream socials,” you shrug your shoulders, as he turns to look at you, “And all of the gritty little dives, it’s more memorable that way. Plus, it makes me a cheap date.”

A small ‘tch’ leaving him as he turns back to his work, “You deserve more than that.”

“As long as you’re there I’ll be fine,” you lean down to press a kiss on his cheek, “Now I’ll stop distracting you, I’ll make dinner or lunch or something because I know you’ll be dead on your feet tomorrow.”

“Try and get to bed early,” he says as you go to grab your things from where you’d left them up front, “I know you like to overwork yourself too.”

1964, Summer When you’d been invited to Wonwoo’s small apartment, you’d expected a small dinner and then maybe you’d go and watch television or explore the city afterwards. What you hadn’t expected was to see dark plumes of smoke emitting from under the doorway. You don’t knock, instead you barge into the apartment to find Wonwoo unlatching his windows and opening them to let the smoke escape, the source of the plumes coming from his small kitchen.

“What happened?” You call out as he turns to you, your hand rising to your face as if it could vanquish the putrid smell.

“I cooked,” the last window opens with a struggle, Wonwoo’s arms ache with how much force he had to exert when opening it. He shuffles over to you, seeing that you’d walked into the kitchen to find the source of it all.

“You… cooked….” A charred, black entity sits in a pan that Wonwoo had presumably pulled from the oven minutes prior. “Wonwoo what is that?”

“A loaf!” An almost excited tone cutting through your confusion as you turn and tilt your head at him.

“A… loaf of?”

“Meat!” At least he’s trying to sound cheerful, but that was his disposition most of the time. His hand guides your gaze over to a handwritten recipe atop the counter, he must’ve gotten it from some program. “I followed Julia Child’s recipe.”

“I’m not trying to be mean but that looks like a brick.” Gaze flickering back to the meat-brick.

“Yeah,” a sigh as he picks up a nearby spatula, grazing it atop the burnt meat, it scrapes atop it rather than giving way at all, “It’s about as hard as one too.”

The utter exasperation breaking through in his voice cause enough for you to laugh, the absurdity of it all pricking tears into the corners of your eyes. “We can try and salvage it,” you offer once you calm yourself down enough, the occasional chuckle flitting like a bird around your ribcage.

“Let’s just go to Le Pavilion or something, there’s also a new movie out too, we can try and catch it if we eat fast enough.”

And you do. For some reason Wonwoo orders the most expensive dish on the menu and doesn’t even like it, offering it to you instead with an abysmal pout that almost has you reeling in the small interior of the restaurant. The atmosphere is warm and jovial, met by the sinking sun as the two of you exit the venue, hands interlocked with a faint tightness as if you never wanted to be without him in your grasp again. Wonwoo and you then walk to a theater some blocks away, hands still held and a bubbling silence between you.

The film that Wonwoo had mentioned earlier had been Mary Poppins, some Disney film starring Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke; you’re sure you’d heard Andrews somewhere before, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“I didn’t realize they could combine live action and cartoons like that,” Wonwoo’s voice full of childlike wonder as the pair of you exit the cinema. The smell of popcorn wafts out of the theater’s doors and the bright bulbs of the marquee overhead creates a strange glow contrasted to the nighttime sky.

“I didn’t either,” you note as a few kids brush past you and begin to race down the street, their voices carrying off into the night. It brings a small smile to your lips as you watch them gallivant around, not a care in the world as they continue to chase one another.

“Do you want me to walk with you back to your place?” Wonwoo offers, extending his hand out to you. You don’t answer aloud, instead just take his hand into yours and begin to walk the steadily emptying streets.

“Have you always lived in the city, Wonwoo?” It takes a moment for you to speak again, instead of just admiring the way that the lights glint off of passing windows and the rumblings of the cars that pass to your left drown out in the other amblings of the city.

“No, my family actually lives up north a little way away.” He hums to himself as he thinks, “I thought I’d always be stuck up there too, but I got the offer from Seungcheol and moved here as fast as I could. Although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it at times.”

“I see,” you mutter, not knowing the feeling of leaving your home. It was a foreign concept to say the least, for almost the entirety of your life you’d known you were going to take over your father’s shop one day, and you’d been complacent in the matter. You’d had your hobbies that you dabbled in, but this was a nostalgic comfort that would and had transitioned into your livelihood that would take you nowhere other than the little shop you call your own. “Would you want to move back?”

“Maybe when I’m older, sure. But I want to see the world first,” he nods his head, a twitch in his hand as he holds yours, “there’s so much I haven’t done or seen.”

It was a reckless ambition, but Wonwoo lived in that fantasy of the unknown, he had for all of his life. That was what he knew and all he abided by. You’d be fooling yourself if you didn’t worry for him at times, but he’d made it so far and you were curious to see where he was going. There was a creative longing, a desire to make, within him that no one else you’d come across had.

“I love you.” The words aren’t romantic when they fall from your mouth, when they’re swept up in the humidity of the summer air and ring around both his and your ears. This was more of a reckoning, a realization of the culmination of your growing feelings towards him since you’d met him almost a year ago now. A weight you hadn’t realized was there lifting from your chest, a songbird free from a gilded cage.

Wonwoo pauses, his feet stopping on the concrete as you continue to walk, only pulled back when you meet resistance. So, you stop yourself, turning back to look at him, a little ‘o’ on his lips and a confused look gracing his features. Had you said it too early? Or did he not reciprocate your feelings?

“You beat me to it,” a small pout emerges onto his lower lip, “I love you too.”

1964, Autumn “I can’t imagine those are comfortable.” You’re sure the clacking of your shoes could be heard miles away, with the obnoxious way they hit the sidewalk. They were pinching your toes too, and you might as well have put a band-aid on the backs of your heels because they were definitely going to be blistered tomorrow morning.

“They most certainly aren’t, but they are cute.” You note, standing on your toes so you can click the red slippers together three times at the heel. “

Wonwoo stands at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to your apartment, offering out his hand for you to grasp when you carefully make your way down the steps. As opposed to the cool air that had begun to settle into the city, his hand offers warmth against your bare skin as his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Which way is Vernon's?” He questions, looking over your costume for the evening.

“He lives over in Flatiron, kind of near the shop so it won’t be too far of a walk.” You notice him looking at the checkered dress and bright shoes. “Was Dorthey not a good idea, Mr. Holmes?” Noting his outfit of choice, the pipe held in his free hand, the detective cap as well as the cape to match.

“I think you look cute,” Looking away from you and towards the street you’d begun to walk down.

Vernon’s apartment was small, it being so led to more intimate parties than one would find at Joshua Hong’s home, in a way you appreciated it a little more. Bigger parties with unfamiliar faces made you feel as if you had to act less like yourself and more robotic in your interactions.

“I’ll let you in if you promise not to chuck my house to Oz,” Vernon asks as he jokingly cracks open his front door as the two of you stand in front of it, “And Pincushion here doesn’t try and solve a murder or two.”

“Hmm I guess that’s doable, right?” You play along, turning to Wonwoo to confirm.

“It might take some restraint but I’m sure I can manage.” Hand under his chin as if he’s deep in thought.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Vernon sighs and swings the door open, “Drinks in the kitchen, I think Chan’s trying to do a comedy-musical routine in the living room. I’d steer clear because he’s trying out ‘audience participation’ tonight.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” You laugh as you walk inside, the warmth of the room exacerbated by the sheer number of people crammed into the tiny space. “I actually kind of want to check out Chan’s thing,” You mention to Wonwoo after you find a space where the two of you can stand unimpeded.

“I don’t know if I can stomach that quite yet, want me to grab you a drink in the meantime?” Wonwoo asks, looking towards the kitchen and the few people filtering in and out of it.

“That’d be great,” a smile and then Wonwoo’s off to struggle his way through the packed room.

Lip bitten, you try to look through the crowd, but the drawls of laughter tell you almost exactly where Chan’s giving his tri-annual standup show. It’s shoulder to shoulder and you can barely hear him over the other going-ons of the party but from what you can ascertain it’s pretty funny.

“Happy Halloween!” A hand on your side as they call out, you turn, and it takes you a moment to recognize the face under the Gomez Addams’ mustache and wig.

“Joshua!” A smile as you move to hug him for a moment, pulling away with your hands resting on his forearms, “I thought you were overseas?”

“I was supposed to be, a nasty storm delayed us by a few days over in Spain so I’m not leaving until Wednesday.” He says, looking over your outfit. “Didn’t you wear this like two Halloweens ago?”

“What no one knows won’t hurt them,” a playful nudge on his shoulder, “And if I were to remember, this wig looks very Elvis of you.”

“You might be able to remember correctly,” The black strands of hair that were pulled back are still reminiscent of the shape they once held. “Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to you alone?” Joshua smiles, a nervous tinge to his voice as he continues, “It’s a little loud in here and I can’t really hear.”

“Oh, yeah,” brow furrowing at the attitude shift, “But first I should tell— Wonwoo!” The confused expression on Joshua’s face is somewhat laughable as you wave your boyfriend over, spotting him exiting the kitchen with two drinks in hand.

“There you are,” Wonwoo says as he walks over, placing a kiss on your cheek as he hands you a glass. You’re not too sure what the contents are, but it’s warm and smells spiced and oddly autumnal. “Hey Joshua,” he greets with a small nod of his head as you take a small sip from your glass.

“Hey Wonwoo,” a return of the nod, “I should probably let the two of you go, I just remembered I have some calls I need to make.”

“What did you want to talk about?” You ask as Joshua begins to turn on his heels. It freezes him, he looks back to you before offering you a warm smile once again.

“It’s nothing important, I’ll catch up with you some other time, yeah?”

The party goes one without much note after, the most affable thing being that routine that Chan had been preparing. At one point you and Wonwoo had slipped out citing an acute tiredness as an excuse to just walk the city some more. By this time of night, the kids that had gone out in search of candy were slowly waning, now only the belligerently drunk wandered the streets in search of the home they probably lived in.

“You have to admit that the joke about Red Skelton was pretty funny though,” insisting that Chan wasn’t the worst comedian you had ever seen. Sure, his act could be cleaned up a little but there was definitely potential.

“What was it— I know a guy who bought a $99 color TV set. Now every Tuesday night he watches Green Skelton?” Chuckling as he recalls the joke, Wonwoo shakes his head “That was pretty good.”

“That’s the one, he’s no Jerry Lewis but he’s trying his best,” you laugh as you arrive at the entrance of your apartment, “Did you want to come in?”

“I’d love to,” he says, and your heart skips several beats, “but I’ve got a client coming in early tomorrow.” And then your heart drops, “I’ll come by tomorrow after I’m done?”

“Alright,” you nod and you say your good nights, he places a kiss on your cheek before turning on his heels and walking into the darkness of night.

You fumble with your hands, trying to unlatch the small picnic basket that had acted as your purse for the evening, in search of your keys.

“Actually, do you have room for one more?” You’d been too distracted trying to get your keys that you hadn’t heard or seen Wonwoo come back to your stoop.

“I thought you said you had work tomorrow,” a wayward glance to him.

“I do, but it’s dark and I’m kind of afraid to walk home alone, I mean what if a ghost or vampire gets me? I’m too pretty to die right now,” he states, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to invite him in.

“A big baby, more like it,” you scoff, once again turning to look at your door and stating, “If you are coming inside, can you lend me my own spare? I think I dropped my keys at Vernon’s.”

“Yeah I think I’ve got it on my ring,” he rummages around his pockets for a moment until you hear the familiar jingle of his keys. There are only four that adorn the metal hoop; his apartment’s, his mailbox’s, Seungcheol’s shop, and the most recent addition: yours.

“Roommate not home?” He questions as the two of you make your way inside, kicking off your shoes as you beeline to your kitchen.

“At some B. Altman holiday extravaganza with her beau,” pulling two glasses from a cabinet and grabbing a nearby bottle from the small section of your kitchen dedicated to alcohol, “Nightcap?”

“A small one,” Wonwoo nods as you come into the room, he’s standing over your record player, turning it on and beginning to play whatever was on the platter. You set the glasses down onto the coffee table and pry the cork out of the bottle, pouring two small glasses as he falls into the sofa beside you.

“I hope Delamain’ll do?” You set down the bottle and pass a glass to Wonwoo, only settling down on the couch once your own glass is in hand.

“It’s perfectly fine,” he sips at his glass, setting it down on the settee as he muses some more, “What record is this?”

“Ella Fitzgerald, mom gave it to me for my birthday last year, it’s one of her favorites.” Sipping from your own glass steadily turns into you just downing the liquid in one go. The glass hits the end table with a clink when you set it down, Wonwoo’s free hand resting on your thigh as he listens to the music wafting through the air.

“It’s lovely,” he sighs out as you rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his Pour Monsieur cologne invading your senses as you settle. The meticulous grazing of his fingers over your thigh causes you to sigh, wanting to sink further into him.

“Can you kiss me?” The words fall breathlessly from your lips, as his fingers trace the hem of your dress. And he does, turning his head to crash against you with such voraciousness that your teeth click against each other before he steadies and falls into motion with you. The pair of you stay like that for a moment, before you feel his hand slip under your leg, urging you to sit atop him.

You straddle his waist, feeling a hardness beginning to strain against his trousers as you grind down onto his lap. He lets out a moan, probably the sweetest thing you’d ever heard, his eyelids fluttering as you do it again. A smirk graces your lips, your hands trailing from his chest to the button on the front of his pants, the fabric coarse under your touch as you move to unfasten it. Before you could, you feel a pair of warm hands atop yours, you looked up to see a wide-eyed Wonwoo.

“I didn’t think I’d be doing this today, so my underwear isn’t exactly mood appropriate—” He says all too quickly for you to comprehend fully, “Just don’t judge me too hard.”

“They can’t be— Is that Mickey Mouse?” You catch the name on the waistband of his underwear, hesitating on releasing any more of the animated character for your eyes to see.

“And I think you’ve just killed the mood,” he groans, his head falling onto the back pillow as his hands fall atop the couch cushions.

“No, I didn’t,” you lean down for a kiss, rolling your hips over him, feeling that he was almost fully erect. His hands fly back to your sides, guiding you along as he lifts his pelvis to meet yours. “I think they’re cute but maybe leave them home next time.”

“Next time?” He mused, looking up at you through clouded eyes, a joking tinge added to his voice “What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?”

“Call it foresight,” shoulders shrugging as you look down at him, your head tilted ever so slightly “and you don’t seem like the hit it and quit it type, baby.” He’d slept over at your apartment before, maybe you’d had a few drunken makeout sessions but nothing ever this sobering, this far. In hindsight maybe you should’ve been nervous, let the butterflies in your stomach take over and calm you down. You’re not sure why you’d taken such a confident route with him, it just seems like he needed it.

“Baby,” the word fell out as a whisper as you saw the faint pinkness of his cheeks in the glow that emanates from the lamp to his right, “Can you spare me any further embarrassment and just take them off already?”

“It doesn’t feel like you’ve got anything to be embarrassed about,” your hand brushing his away from the front of his pants, you sit up on your knees, “Mind kicking them off for me?”

He readily began to comply as you tried to maneuver without inhibiting him, you noticed him watching you, a hunger in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. His hands still for a moment and his head twists to look towards the kitchen where the entryway is.

“Fuck— is someone else here?” He asks and you listen to the familiar sound of your front door unlocking; it doesn’t open but you can hear loud footfalls and an even louder voice talking outside of the door.

“Sooyoung?” You call out after you were sure the voices had stopped, walking to the kitchen when you hear your roommate's keys hitting the kitchen counter “I thought you were staying at your boyfriend’s?”

“The asshole broke up with me because he wanted to be Holly Golightly. Him! He might have astoundingly good looks for it but I think I’m a little prettier, don’t you think?” The door of the fridge slamming shut, a rustle around the utensil drawer as she looks for a spoon. She did look stunning as the Hepburn character; you have to admit. “They’re re-airing that episode of Perry Mason if you want to watch it.”

“Wonwoo’s actually over so I think I’m just going to call it a night,” You say, leaning against the doorframe, watching her begin to dig into a tub of ice cream. “I’ll be sure to rant about your ex with you tomorrow.”

“You’d really do that?” A sigh as she shoves the spook into her mouth, “I’ll try not to wake you guys up when I get up for work tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Sooyoung,” a smile before you slip away and head back into the living room. “Alright Woo, it’s time for bed.”

“Alright,” Wonwoo pushes himself off of the couch, buttoning his pants and shouting out a ‘Goodnight Sooyoung!’ before ducking into your room. With his long strides he walks to your bed and subsequently falls into it as you turn to close the door behind the two of you.

“Don’t you want to change, Dr. Holmes?” You note his still costumed self as you look at his sprawling figure on the bed, “I think I’ve got your bed clothes from the last time you were here… Not sure if I cleaned them though.”

He huffs, “Forget it, I’m going to sleep.” He crawls to his side, blanketing himself with your duvet as you go into your bathroom to remove your makeup and change.

You can hear him softly snoring as you exit the restroom, your face still a little damp and the scent of your cleanser tingling your nose. Sooyoung’s turned off the music in the living room, the garbled sounds of the small black and white tv quietly floating in under your door. It takes a moment, but you climb into bed next to Wonwoo, pulling the duvet up to your chin before you shut your eyes and fall into a dreamless slumber.

It isn’t sunny out when you wake up, you don’t want to look at your clock for fear that your alarm was about to go off and you’d miss the opportunity to sleep in a few minutes more. An arm draped over you, even in sleep Wonwoo was a cuddler. Normally you weren’t opposed unless it was the summertime and it was unbearably hot outside.

“You know,” you hear him mumble tiredly, as if he senses that you’ve woken up too, “I always thought your apartment would be much more… bookier.” With the way his voice rasps with fatigue you’re not sure if he’s fully awake or half asleep.

“What were you expecting? Books wall to wall?” eyes still closed as you pull your duvet closer to you, feeling his arm tense around your waist.

“Kind of, something akin to a fairytale library,” his breath hot on your back, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the sensation. “Like uhm— some Grimm story… Oh,” voice perking, “Can we go for that Halloween next year? You didn’t even tell me what you were going as until I saw you tonight.”

“You want to have a couple’s costume?”

“Yeah,” breathing slowly as if he’s falling back asleep again,”Maybe Lucy and Ricardo, that’d be fun.”

The next time you wake up, the sun’s blaring into your eyes with an intensity you had never asked for.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Wonwoo’s mumbling and shuffling around your room, sunlight was pouring in from your windows and he looked heavenly even in his manic state.

“What’s wrong?” Stifling a yawn behind your hand as you watch him frantically feel his pockets.

“It’s nine-thirty, We— I overslept,” another string of curses escaping him as he looks around your room, “Do you have a phone I can use?”

“It’s on the dresser.” You point lazily to the red rotary.

You hear the dial tone ring a few times before someone on the other end picks up, “Mingyu can you put my client on the line?” A pause, “Yes I know I’m late.” Another pause before Wonwoo speaks again, “Hello Mr. Smith? Yes, this is Wonwoo Jeon. I'm running a little late for our appointment, I had bit of an emergency and— Huh? Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Only minorly,” he frowns, “You wouldn’t happen to have a suit perfectly tailored for me to wear, would you?”

“Can’t say that I do, why don’t you just go in what you’re wearing?”

“I am not going dressed up as Sherlock Holmes for this client. I have some pride, you know.”

“You’re literally wearing Mickey Mouse underwear,” you snort, “it doesn’t look that bad anyway, just don’t wear the hat and lose the pipe. Maybe the cloak too but it’s kind of sexy.”

“Don’t try to tempt me,” he groans, buttoning and zipping his pants, “I’m late enough as is.”

“I’d offer you an iron if Sooyoung hadn’t broken mine, that shirt looks super wrinkly now that I see it in the sunlight,” you note, he still looked nice though. He would probably look nice in anything he wore.

“Ugh, really?” Hands running over the wrinkled fabric he sighs to himself, “I’d say I’ve looked worse, but I normally have myself together.”

“Good luck. I, for one, am going back to sleep.” You sigh and fall back into your blankets, not wanting to leave the sanctuary of warmth quite yet.

“Now who’s the baby?” He scoffs and you hear him tread to the side of the bed, a kiss planted on your forehead as you crinkle your nose up at him. “I’ll call you later today?”

“I’ll talk to you then.”

1964, Late Autumn. The rain began only a few minutes into your trek to the cafe, your umbrella weeping with the droplets as they roll off its surface as you trudge down the street. There’s a rumble in the distance but you’re not sure if it’s the local train station or thunder somewhere off beyond the city. Your other hand in your pocket, running your finger along the ridges of your shop’s key. While you know you’d locked it, you can’t help but have the underlying fear that you’d left the door wide open so that anyone could just walk in. Although you’re not quite sure what they’d take, a few blank notebooks don’t seem like it’d do too well in any sort of underground market.

By the time you pull yourself from your thoughts, you’re standing in front of a small cafe that feels more like a second home to you than your own apartment did at this point. The door swings open, you stand in the entranceway so that you can close your umbrella and leave it in the small stand upfront before you head fully inside. It smells like autumn, or at least the coffee’d variant of it. Pumpkin, nutmeg, and a few other scents you can’t quite pinpoint wafting through the air as you walk up to the counter to place your order. You pick out a few pastries as well and ask that they’re brought out when your coffee is ready. A hand to remove the paper-wrapped book under your arm so you can reach for your wallet, realizing then that the water had soaked into the leather. The wrapping paper now a little damp from where it’d brushed against your coat, you pick it back up as well as grab the receipt from the barista before scouring the cafe for what you’d come here to do in the first place.

Wonwoo’s dozing off when you find him in the back corner of the coffee shop. His jacket slung on the chair beside him, a scarf thrown haphazardly atop it as he leans with his head tilting backwards, pretty much dead to the world. Had the two of you not been frequent customers you’re sure that he would’ve been kicked out by now. But there he was, black turtleneck, tailored pants, and the cartoon bandages he loves so much wrapped tightly around his fingertips.

He doesn’t wake up when you accidentally scrape your chair on the ground when you pull it back to sit across from him nor does he wake when you drop the paper-bound book atop the table with a loud thud. Wonwoo does, however, wake when you brush your hand gently atop his, nearly falling out of his chair as his eyes open wider than you’d ever seen someone’s do.

“That wasn’t funny,” he frowns as you snicker, glancing over to the counter trying to act as if he’s regained his composure, “did you already order?”

“For me? Yes,” you place your bag in the chair adjacent to you, shrug off your raincoat and hang it on the back of your chair. “For you, what is it that you get? Flat white, two sugars, low fat milk?”

“That’s it,” he hums, leaning his head back once more. It must’ve been another sleepless night for him.

“You should be thankful I’ve got an exceptional memory,” you frown as he can’t see you, he overworks himself too much and if you ever try to bring it up he brushes it off with a wave and an excuse of ‘I’m just doing what I love’.

“You know,” he begins, leaning his head back up, opening his eyes to look at you. There was something shining behind them that you’d only seen on a handful of occasions; he has an idea and he’s not sure that you’ll like it, “I was wondering if you’d model a dress for me? Not for a fashion show or anything. I just think it’d look good on you.”

His gaze breaks from yours to look at the aisle behind you, you turn and see the barista coming with your drinks and assortment of baked goods. After a few repetitious ‘thank you’s she leaves and the pair of you are left alone once more.

“Are you flirting with me?” An eyebrow piqued as you looked at him. He’d asked you to do some of the strangest things before, going from the mundane ‘I think we need to get annual tickets to the opera just in case I forget your birthday and it’ll be a birthday present’ to ‘I swear to god if we don’t rescue this cat right now I’m never calling you again’. But it was two am and a sorely inebriated Wonwoo had thought that a raccoon was a cat as it rummaged through the garbage. That had also been the night where he’d serenaded you with his own rendition of Blossom Dearies ‘Dance Only With Me’ and Sinatra’s ‘I’m a Fool to Want You’; he’d broken down crying at the latter and you’d forced him to go to bed early. He only went on the condition that you’d hug him as he slept. It was certainly an interesting way to spend your first date together.

“Do you want me to be? I’d say it’s fairly doable,” He winks as he drinks from his mug, blowing on its contents beforehand to cool the brew.

A laugh, the brown paper under your fingertips wrinkling as you strain your fingers and push it towards him. It slides across the wood with relative ease, your finger partially tearing the paper where it had been dampened by the rain.

“I brought you your book.”

“Unlined and all?” He asks as he sets down his cup, shifting himself forward to get a better look.

“Unlined, flexible binding, the works.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he sighs, taking the still wrapped book into his grasp.

“I know,” you smile, watching as his fingers toy with the twine that kept it together.

“Hello? Paging Ms. Bookbinder, you there?” Wonwoo’s hand waves in front of your face, suddenly you’re back in reality and trying to remember the conversation. You didn’t realize you’d zoned out that hard.

“Yes Mr. Reichelt?” You question, looking down as his finger’s unlace the twine you’d wrapped around the paper packaging.

“Don’t call me that I am much cooler than Franz Reichelt, and less dead, for that matter.”

“Can you say that after you drink your coffee?” You poke jokingly while he eyes his mug with a wary glance.

“Anyway, were you even listening to me?” He leans towards you, elbows resting on the tabletop and a slight curvature to his smile that looked far too playful for the current moment. It stilled your heart for a second before you shake your head at him.

“Not really, no.” You confess, sipping from your cup, “What is it?”

“I was asking if you would let me make a dress for you. I’ve had this idea in my mind for weeks and I finally got this mulberry silk imported from Lyon and it’s too good not to use immediately.”

“I don’t even need a dress like that, Wonwoo.” You frown, picking at one of the pastries in front of you, pinching off a piece before stuffing it into your mouth. “I’m not exactly the type that goes to parties where I’d need a silk dress.” You think that the last party you’d attended you’d worn a sweater and a dress from your roommate’s closet, nothing remotely close to what he was proposing.

“You don’t even know what it looks like,” he pouts, “All I need are your measurements, you won’t even have to see the thing if you don’t want to.”

A sigh, “Fine. When do you want me to drop by?”

“Does Tuesday around ten work for you?”

“I should be able to get Vernon to look over the shop while I’m gone.”

1964, Winter. The ringing of your shop’s bells draws you to the front room, your hands wrought with binding glue, you try to rub them on the apron you wear to rid yourself of the sensation. Before you can ask what the customer needs you stop in your tracks, head tilting to the side, “Isn’t it your day off?”

“It is,” Wonwoo’s voice is cheery as he walks in further, looking at the array of newly bound books sitting out on display.

“What are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to want to see you?” You fluster at the words, hard to hide the small smile that forms on your lips.

“I mean, you can, it’s just that I’m working.” You motion to the store, to the few customers browsing the items.

“You’ve spent however many nights watching me hem skirts and taper jackets; I think it’s time I return the favor.” A nod of his head as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “What can I do to help?”

“What the hell’s Pincushion doing here?” Before you’re able to open your mouth, Vernon comes out of the back room with a stack of books in his grasp, “I thought you’d be holed up in your shop by now.”

“It’s my day off.”

“And you’re spending it… here…” The thud of books landing on a nearby table as the skepticism in Vernon’s voice rises.

“Yep.”

“He must really like you,” Vernon scoffs, going to grab a different selection of books off of another shelf. He turns to you and asks, “Can you grab me the leather samples from the back? I think Maisel’s coming in today and you know how he gets.”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You shake your head and head to the back room to search for the swatches.

While he waits, Wonwoo notices a small web lingering in the intersection of two walls, the sunlight glinting off its strands having been what alerted him to his presence in the first place. At first, he thinks to sweep it away with a broom he knows is hidden somewhere in your storeroom. You weren’t the biggest fan of bugs or arachnids; he was surprised you hadn’t rid your shop of it by now. But he can’t find it within himself to brush the web asunder. It had worked hard to build and craft its home; he knew firsthand how difficult creating something from nothing was.

“Her name is Jorōgumo.” Vernon had walked up behind Wonwoo with little announcement. The younger jumps, turning his head to look at the other. “I offered to kill her… him…? For her but she said it was eating the bugs and to let it be.”

Wonwoo eyes the fat-bodied spider, “Why is it named that?”

“It’s a fairytale from Japan, there’s a spider that looks like a woman. It entices men to follow her and then eats them while they’re distracted,” Vernon explains, the sound of the storeroom opening behind him.

“Are you bullying Arachne again?” You frown, handing the swatches to Vernon and looking up to the small web in the corner.

“I am not bullying Jorōgumo.”

“If I’m keeping a spider in my shop, I am not naming it after a monster.”

“And a heretic is better?” Vernon scoffs, tapping Wonwoo on the shoulder, “What do you think, Pincushion?”

“I’m just wondering why both the myths have to be women,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks to you, “Do you think you’d be free this evening so I can take your measurements? I finally have some free time to start working on that dress.”

“I think so,” a nod as you look at Vernon, “Mind looking after the shop for a bit?”

1965, Early Spring “Didn’t you already measure me?” Wonwoo’s hands hold a rolling measuring tape as he holds it up to your forearm as you ask.

“Yeah, but I want to make sure this is perfect.” Tape lowered; he writes down the number into one of the journals he’d brought with him to your apartment. Trailing away from that your eyes look to the bouquet he brought when he’d come over.

“What’s the deal?” Brow furrowing at the pink, red and white blooms, “You never give me flowers.”

“It’s a special occasion,” Beaming, he’s as bright as the sun. A jilted visage against the cool tones of your apartment’s interior. He looks up to you with a vividness in his eyes, “Your boyfriend’s going to Paris.”

“What do you mean Paris?” A hitch in your voice as you ask, a strange and warped confusion overcoming you.

“Seungcheol got me an apprenticeship with one of his friends, he’s going to be in town in a few weeks to talk about it with me and I want to show off the dress there.” He’s speaking at a mile a minute, a clear excitement as he beams.

“Don’t fall for some mysterious Parisian woman while you’re there,” You poke, still unsure about how you even feel about this.

“I doubt I’ll have time to even wander the city. With all of the workshops and sessions we’ll have. It’s going to be the opportunity of a life— ow—” he says as you gently hit his shoulder. “I won’t fall for some other girl, I promise,” He laughs and continues to take your measurements.

1965, Late Spring “Did you have a good time tonight?” The lock clicking into place as he asks, your footsteps falling on the floor as you make your way to his workbench in the center of what would’ve been his living room had he not made it into a makeshift workshop.

You note the tools, the fabrics and array of swatches that litter his home, the pincushion he wears on his wrist as he works settled onto the tabletop. It’s as if the apartment is a representation of him, messy in ambition but persevering through the struggles as he tries to find the limelight of his own. A smile forming as he walks over to you.

“I had a wonderful time, thank you for inviting me.”

It had been a small gathering at the tailor shop, a small dinner with Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Seungcheol’s friend and Wonwoo’s future mentor Jeonghan, and yourself. The entirety of the night you’d felt a knot forming in your stomach, the anxiety of Wonwoo’s future endeavors weighing heavily on your shoulders. You want to be happy for him but the closer it gets to Wonwoo’s departure for Paris leaves you feeling more and more despair at the event of it all.

“Thank you for coming,” Wonwoo’s hands find your sides as you lean your backside against the rough wooden edge of the table. “You made it all the more bearable,” smiling softly in the dim lighting of the apartment, he leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. The wine from earlier lingers on his breath, you’re sure it does the same to yours, the darkness of the red already making you warm and your body feeling weightless, almost as if you were floating in a pool of water.

You part, staring into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation before he’s leaning in again to find your lips. His kiss seems as if it seeks to steal the breath from your lungs. To devour you entirely until all you can think of is his closeness, the softness of his lips atop yours, of just him. The woolen fabric of his overcoat is rough under your fingertips as you move your hands from the workshop table to his shoulders, gently pulling at the cloth to urge him to discard the garment. His hands leave your sides momentarily as he shrugs the jacket off, the fabric falling and pooling on the floor at his feet. A metallic clang echoing around the space as he leans forward to lock his lips with yours.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe, soft pants escaping the both of you as you turn your head from him, your eyes trailing to the sewing scissors that had clattered onto the floor. Another rustling of fabric and you realize he’s discarded his suit jacket as well.

“Let it be,” a hand under your chin, guiding you back to the comfort of his lips. He presses himself into your touch, the way your fingers dance along the smooth cotton of his starched shirt, fiddle with the buttons and run your fingertips atop the small engravings adorning them.

“Are we really going to do this in your workspace?” You look up to his darkened gaze, your voice caught in your throat as his own fingers move to toy with the neckline of your dress. Gentle, electric touches that have you reeling.

“Does that bother you?” His lips leave yours once more as he places soft, yearning kisses to your cheek, trailing down your jaw and then to your neck. He raises a hand to pull away the neckline of the dress to allow him better access to the apogee of nerves nestled at the point where your shoulder and neck meet. Teeth biting ever so gently that you would have mistaken it as a light graze had you not felt the sharp pinch. It pulls an almost whining sound from your vocal cords, causing your head to tilt to allow him more space to roam.

Lips curling into a smile as he pulls away, his hand sliding from the table to your arm, then raising and gently pulling at your hair, “You didn’t answer me.”

“God, fuck, no it doesn’t bother me,” you trap his lips in yours, tilting your head up so the orange glow of the street lamps outside shine into your eyes before you shut them, finding yourself lost in the entity of your lover. The slowest ministrations of your hips trying to roll against his, to seek out friction and closeness and the yearning of him to once again be a part of you, “Wonwoo.” Your tone is darker, needier, wanting as he presses his clothed self flush against you.

A huff of air escaping you as he once again pulls his lips away from you, and then the gentle rolling of his hips against yours ceases as well. Eyes opening to find him looking over you, not scrutinizing, it seems as if he was rather admiring the picture that sat before him.

Head tilting, the presence of desire absent for a moment as he muses, “I think it looks amazing.” He hums as he lowers himself to his knees, somehow the softness of his voice makes you want to comply with every word uttered, “Can you sit on the table for me?”

Hands brushing against tulle and satin and a plethora of other fabrics you could care less about at this moment in time as you find your hold on the table as you move to sit atop its surface, your heeled shoes clattering to the floor as you do so. Wonwoo’s fingers caress your calves as he leans himself closer to your core, his warm breath making your mind conjure some of the most unspeakable thoughts.

“I’ll have to let the designer know he did an amazing job,” you smile, involuntarily shivering as he slides his hands upwards, the hem of your dress inching towards your stomach the further he ascends.

His face merely inches from your core now, your hips squirming at the proximity. “I think he’d be appreciative of the feedback,” Wonwoo smiles, his face now obscured from vision due to the collection of fabric, you have half a mind to tear it off of you, not that you ever realistically would. It’s far too precious.

The rip of fabric, the coolness of the air hitting your now exposed sex, you whine in protest as he begins to slide the now torn fabric of your underwear away from you.

“I’ll get you some more,” his right hand hovers over you, he uses his middle finger to swipe up the length of your slit, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.

“Are you a lingerie atelier now— Fuck,” you begin to joke before he begins to tease your clit with the tip of his finger. He moves his middle finger slowly, languidly as he draws deep breaths and stifled moans from your lips.

After a moment, your own hand moves to your breast, trying to fondle the flesh through several layers of fabric. He changes his approach, moving lover to tease your entrance before he slips his finger inside of you and with a moan you roll your hips to try and meet him halfway.

It’s not until he eases in another finger and begins to slowly draw them in and out of you as well as latch his lips to your clit that your vocalizations rise in volume. The digits curl inside of you, his tongue swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves and your head finds itself lost in the euphoria of the moment, your hand falling away from your breast to find itself running through Wonwoo’s locks. He hums against you as your fingers tighten their hold, nearly sending you over the edge.

“Are you close?” You look at him, lips coated with the sheen of you, a tinge to his voice that straddles between curiosity and a carnal question.

Hand moving from his hair to his cheek you can only nod, trying to roll your hips to the increasing speed of his fingers inside of you. His eyes watching you as you do finally reach your climax, chortled breaths escaping you as well as a slew of incoherent words and his name. Wonwoo can feel the way your walls spasm around his fingers and sighs to himself as he pulls them from you, wishing that it had been more than just his digits that had made you cum.

You sit up, a little dazed and a lot more aroused than you were when you’d first stepped into the apartment. Wonwoo rises to greet you, your lips clash together and you can taste yourself on his tongue as you vie for dominance.

“Switch with me?” You ask, parting for air, voice whispering as your hands move to once again toy with the hem of his collared shirt.

And he does, backing away from you enough so you can land your feet on the floor and trade places with him. Your turn to take control for a moment, you feel the hardness of his cock through his pants as you tentatively palm it, trying to elicit some sort of sound from him.

“Come on, Woo, I know you’ve got it in you,” you tease, running your hand up and down the etching of his member, slowly and meticulously trying to draw him out of his shell.

“Have what—” he cuts himself off as you run your fingers over his cockhead, a low groan as if he hadn’t wanted you to hear it.

“Have that,” you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The taste of salt greeting you, the sheen of sweat on his face glittering in the lights dimly illuminating his apartment. You fall to your knees, sending shivers down your spine as the cool air that balloons the skirt of your dress as your knees hit the floor with a dull thud. Hands sliding up his thighs, you move to his belt to hastily unfasten it.

It falls away, as do his pants and underwear, you were going to mention the lack of cartoon characters adorning it, but you were too preoccupied taking him into your mouth to comment.

Tongue running over the slit on his head, it draws the sweetest sounds from him, saccharine-like honey that drips from his moans and rings around your ears. His hand running through his hair, his other gripping the table as he tries to stop himself from bucking into your mouth as you take him further.

Your knees ache from the rough floor, the pain not deterrent enough for you to forget about the wetness between your legs. Fidgeting as your head bobs up and down on his length, you don’t think he takes notice. Yet Wonwoo was more perceptive than he let on at times, considering his hand now rests upon your hollowing cheek.

“Get up,” Wonwoo urges, his voice hoarse as he tries to gently nudge you away from his cock. “I want to cum inside of you.” When you do let him leave your mouth, a thin line of spittle trailing from his head to your lips you hear him sigh out again. It was so easy to get a reaction out of him, he almost feels like putty in the palm of your hand.

The indents from the wood settle into the flesh of your thighs as he helps you stand and lightly pushes you back onto the table. His belt clattering onto the floor as he fully kicks off his pants, his shoes, and briefs.

You wonder at this point if you should take off the dress, but as your hand begins to reach for the zipper, he stops you, “No, keep it on.”

He kisses you again, taking his hands to gently pry your legs open so he can align himself with your core. Lips parting, you feel his cock brush up against your entrance before he pushes himself into you, his hands moving to trail up the sides of your legs. Slowly, feeling every inch enveloping him as his fingers tighten their hold on the skin of your hips.

“Fuck,” he moans, fully sheathing himself inside of you. His brown eyes meeting yours, tongue darting out to wetten his lips, “Do you need a minute?”

When you shake your head no you fully expect him to start rutting into you with reckless abandon as he did most nights you stayed together. But he doesn’t, instead he starts to roll his hips into you, not trying to fuck the life out of you, rather trying to gauge how and what made you feel good.

“Woo,” you mutter with half-lidded eyes, hands trailing up his arms and to his shoulders, your nails digging into the now exposed skin. It was sure to leave marks, but only small crescent moons that would fade away come morning.

It’s whispered ‘I love you’s’ that fall from his lips as your forearms wrap around his neck to pull you up and draw him in closer, a thrumming in your chest each time he says it. And you repeat it back to the best of your ability, to find a constancy in him that hadn’t ever made itself presentable to you in a lover or significant other before.

For a moment you’re able to lose yourself in him, to forget that he’d be leaving you soon and your heart along with it. You’re enveloped in the presence of him and you wouldn’t have it any other way, you wouldn’t let it be any other way.

Wonwoo’s thrusts become more sporadic as he reaches his end, one of his hands leaving your side and moving to your clit to try and bring you over with him one more time. You’re sensitive and strung out on him, legs tensing as they try to close, stopping around his waist as you press your forehead to his shoulder.

He cums with little warning, other than his hand moving from your clit and back to your side as he stills himself within you. The sweat collected on both of your bows intermingles when he presses his forehead against yours. His breathing slows as he regains his composer, kissing you as he slides himself out of you. When he pulls away to slide on his briefs you land your feet on the ground with shaky legs, holding the edge to balance yourself.

Wonwoo turns back to you and almost has to stifle a short laugh, your face contorting to the feel of his essence leaving you, it’s strange but not overtly bad. Just not something you’re fully accustomed to.

“Let’s wash up, hm?” Hand taking yours, he leads you to his small bedroom, only stopping midway so he can help you out of your clothes. He unzips the dress, the cool air of his apartment fully encasing you as he pulls the fabric off your shoulders. You feel his lips press a soft kiss onto the nape of your neck and he catches the scent of the perfume you’d applied earlier in the evening. The dress falls, pooling at your feet and you step from its depths and onto the hardwood floor. Before you’re able to reach for the dress, Wonwoo’s swept it up, already moving to hang it in his closet.

The two of you shower together, reminiscing on a handful of occasions with him that you’d fully devoted to memory but also of the future as well. Wonwoo was excited to leave, every mention of it fractalizing your heart just a little bit more, not that you’d let him know, you just put on a smile and tell him how happy you are for him.

You borrow a shirt from him to wear to bed, exiting the bathroom while he brushes his teeth and combs his hair. While he does, you wander his room, looking at the shelves that adorn the space. Most books atop them are about tailoring or sewing, things that wouldn’t typically draw your attention. You then spot a few that are familiar, the bindings nostalgic under your fingertips as you trace them, no names or words that address their titles.

“I never realized I made you so many,” You muse, looking at Wonwoo who’s just exited the bathroom.

“I have been your loyal customer for a while now, you know.” He notes, falling into his bed and collecting the blankets, he pats the mattress beside him to beckon you closer.

You fall back into the bed beside him after you saunter over, encased in the blankets for a moment by the duvet he tosses atop you before you look at him, “I don’t want you to go.” It’s a simple statement that carries all too much weight for those six words alone, they lie heavily in your chest, saying them aloud does nothing to stop that.

“I know, I know,” There’s a hurt in his voice as he knows just how difficult it’ll be to part from you. “We’ve still got almost two months left before I go though, let’s try to make the most of it, okay?”

1965, Summer It had only been a month since Wonwoo landed in Paris. His French is awful, and he only knows how to call things pretty, cute or something lewder thanks to the teachings of his fellow apprentices. There are bags under his eyes from another sleepless night, a cigarette hanging from his lips (a terrible habit he’s picked up as of late), and the mute sounds of some song playing out of the bar he’d just crawled out of. It’s probably Bridget Bardot but he can’t tell from his position, not that he can understand anyway, he’s barely been able to comprehend his own thoughts.

His fingers ache, only nude bandages that are a little too pink wrapped around them because he can’t find the cartoon ones that you’d given him tucked away in his things. His eyes feel strained, tired, and pulsing from overanalyzing stitching and searching cloth for tears, pulls or other impurities. Montmartre was beautiful, not that he was able to see it often as he was constantly working. And if he wasn’t working, he was probably trying to catch up on lost rest.

This was his dream, a part of it though, the other half had you somewhere tucked away in the echelons of his fantasy life. Although he was doing what he wanted, what he loved, there was something about you being in absentia that had him feeling empty. He’d written countless letters but only signed and sent a handful, worried of saying too much and worried of saying too little. To you and his father, his father that had sent him on this path at a young age. ‘Make something of yourself,’ he’d said when Wonwoo was seven, ‘you’re too ambitious not to.’

If he could laugh at him now, he would. But his father was an ocean away, retreated somewhere in the depths of Wonwoo’s childhood that he’d rather leave behind.

Yet on the other hand, he’d written you what felt like every day and struggled with each composition. Wonwoo had never missed someone’s voice as much as yours, the gentle feel of your hand intertwined with his or even the sounds of your footsteps trailing through your shop. He’s supposed to be happy, why isn’t he happy?

The cigarette burns, the acrid smoke filtering into his mouth as he inhales, a plume of what’s left leaving him when he huffs out, the cigarette dropped onto the ground, smoldering away. Hand flitting through his knotted locks, the dampness of sweat clinging to the pads of his fingertips as he brushes over his brow.

Most people had dropped everything to work under Jeonghan, a certified maestro of their craft. And Wonwoo had dropped everything, not begrudgingly at first, but as the dog days of the beginning of summer and the end of spring drew near there was a rising anxiety within his chest. If you had asked him not to leave as he was standing at the terminal’s gates, he probably wouldn’t have gone at all.

He’s been giving up more and more lately; sleep, adequate meals, a solitary living space. Wonwoo’s worried when this serpent of work will seek out to devour you away too. It’s not that he wants to let you go, but if he’s to make something of himself he might have to, as cruel and malicious it may seem. In that you waiting for him was burdensome, not to him but to yourself. While he’s off gallivanting in an ancient city you’re in your shop, was he just supposed to expect you to idly sit by and wait for him? He’s not sadistic enough to tether you down to the unknown.

1965, Late Autumn. You’d come home that morning with a new record tucked under your arm, the words ‘Rubber Soul’ peeking over the paper sheath that the store had given you as you set it down on your countertop after discarding your shoes and jacket by the door. You hum to yourself, shedding your bag, reaching for the new record, and bringing it over to your player, Sooyoung’s worn copy of one of Billie Holiday’s albums resting on the platter. With gentle hands you remove it from the spindle, tucking it away in its cover before releasing Rubber Soul from its own and setting it onto the player. System turned on, you place the needle on the record and adjust the volume so the first few riffs of ‘Drive My Car’ begin playing through the speakers.

Nodding your head to the rhythm, you set down the cover and make your way to the kitchen, noticing the small pile of postcards and letters you’d received from Wonwoo over the last few months. He’d been so busy he hadn’t really had the time to call or write a lot for that matter. But it wasn’t like calling was free, especially an international connection. With each new card that he sent to you, there seemed to be less that he wrote of and more empty space adorning it.

“Hey,” You hear Sooyoung say as she exits her room, her purse in hand as she heads to the hall tree to grab a coat, “I’ve gotta head in, someone completely ruined the display for the winter collection.”

“I thought you were in charge of that?” A tilt of your head as she passes by. Sooyoung’s one of the floor managers of the flagship B. Altman some blocks away, and that left her unnecessarily stressed by the minute details of the store.

“I am, but I let one of the new girls try and set it up,” a frown as she opens the door, “That’s what I get for trying to take on a protegee. I’ll be back around dinnertime, okay?”

“I’ll see you then,” waving her off with a hand as the door slams shut, the sound of your friend’s key locking the door before the apartment falls into silence once more, the only sound coming from the next song on the vinyl.

Stifling a yawn with your hand you head to the living room, plopping down onto the sofa as you reach for a magazine atop the table. It was one of your roommate’s detailing a plethora of fashion information, this seemed something like Wonwoo could take to more so than yourself. Before you’re able to get lost in the pit of missing him again the phone on the table next to the sofa begins to ring.

“Hello?” Magazine tossed aside, you reach for the phone, pulling it to your ear as you lay reclined on the couch. Fully expecting a family member or one of Sooyoung’s friends over the line you sound a little more crass than normal.

“Whoa,” a familiar, achingly distant voice calls out, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Wonwoo?” Eyes widening, your grip on the phone tightening before your brow furrows and you sit up, “Where are you?”

“I’m actually in a phone booth outside of Jeonghan’s shop right now,” A short laugh, there’s something quiet about it, “I feel like I’m in some sort of film.”

“It sure sounds like you are,” distancing yourself from the line for a moment as the connection pops and crackles. Ear returning to the phone you feel your heart swell as you lean against your wall, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He sounds apprehensive, as if there’s something ruminating behind his lips, but he was too afraid to say it. “I’m sorry for not calling sooner, it’s just been extremely busy here.”

Twirling the phone cord absentmindedly with your finger you shake your head, not that he could see you, “It’s alright.” The disquiet in his voice puts you on edge, “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking,” He’s holding his breath, and you don’t realize that you are too.

“Of?”

“Ending this. Us.” There’s a pause, a bated breath, and a clearing of his throat before he begins to speak again. It sounds robotic, rehearsed, even. “I don’t want to leave you waiting for me when I don’t even know when I’ll be back.”

“If you don’t think I’d wait for you you’re ridiculous,” A confused tone to your voice, you blink several times as if that were the cure-all to comprehend what he was suggesting. “Is there someone else?”

“God, no, of course not. It’s just—” A break in the facade for a moment before it turns static again, “You deserve constancy. I don’t want you waiting around for me when you could be happier somewhere else with someone else who’s actually there for you.”

“Are you serious?” With the thought of him being an ocean away you could barely go as kicking and screaming as you wanted to, but you can’t. It’s hard to collect your thoughts with so many jumbling around your head.

“I’ll get Seungcheol or someone to stop by and get my things,” voice muffled, there was a small banging coming from the other end, as if someone’s hitting the outside of the phone booth that Wonwoo is situated in.

“No,” you frown, a heavy feeling settling into your stomach. “I’ll drop the dress and your things off at the shop.”

“Keep the dress, it was a gift,” his voice insists, sounding defeated and tired.

“I don’t want it, I want you, Wonwoo.”

He would rather watch the stars flicker and die from their sepulchered facades in the expanse above, watch the oceans shrivel and continents shrink, than be the source of your privation. It’s as if he can hear your heart break over the line. It isn’t loud, it isn’t ear shattering— it’s a hairline fracture that webs out and settles into every fiber of your being. He knows it because it’s the same thing he’s afflicted upon himself.

“I’m sorry, I love you but there’s no feasible way that I can—” he pauses, and you hear a voice tinned by the crackling line. It’s French, sounds angry and causes Wonwoo to speak into the phone once more, “I— I have to go. I’ll call you back later so we can talk about this, okay?”

“Okay,” the word is lifeless as it leaves your mouth, you hang up and pull the phone away from your ear as if you could still hear his voice after you’d killed the call.

You are a bag of bones, skin, and whatever else deigned itself rotted enough to crawl its way inside of you and flourish. Amber leaves looking more titian as you leave your apartment, a muted tone as you walk the streets and to your shop. The lights inside aren’t as bright as they once were, sounds far too muffled by the blood rushing to your ears as Vernon asks you what’s wrong.

1966, Winter “Try this one,” The bartender standing in front of you sets down another glass. He’d been talking to you on and off the whole night trying to get your opinions on different drinks he’d been concocting to try and get put on the menu.

“What is it?” Amber liquid swirled around what looked like a dried slice of orange. The whiff of something floral and reminiscent of anise hits your nose, causing your face to scrunch. “That’s not straight absinthe and cognac, is it?”

“Cognac Tesseron, Peychaud’s Bitters, simple syrup, and just the smallest taste of absinthe,” Carefully crafted and delicately handled you pick up the glass and observe it some more. “I’m thinking about calling it the Forget Me Not, but we’ll see what management thinks of that name.” Voice tinged with that oddly specific Brooklyn accent he turns to his other clientele, leaving you with the newest cocktail. Lips carefully pressed to the glass you drink, mulling over the flavors as you do so. After thinking about it you set the glass down, lips pursed together, it wasn’t a bad taste you just wished there were more acidic notes to it.

Alone. You sit alone in the dimly lit bar that denoted itself as La Fête. Why, you aren’t sure, but the cacophony of spirits mixed into the glass between your fingers is the only thing that has made you feel well the entire evening. Some comedian stands on the stage a few meters away, giving off a routine that isn’t hitting as well as it should be. There’s muffled laughs and chortles from the audience in front of him, yet you’ve barely heard a word he’s said.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice rings out to your right; you’re unable to see who it is until they take a seat next to you.

“Mr. Hong,” Eyebrows raised as Joshua turns to face you, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen him in a month or so, not after that had happened.

“Vernon told me I could probably find you here, and Sooyoung also told me about trying to cheer you up since the gifts she got you weren’t working,” A smirk playfully bouncing on his lips. “You look awful.” Hands folding atop each other as he adjusts himself in the seat.

“What makes you say that?” Scoffing as you bring your glass to your lips, taking a sip of your drink before setting it back down.

“Vernon did say you were going through something heavy.” His tone lowers, becoming more sympathetic and less lighthearted than it’d been a moment before.

The gentle ambiance of the bar around you, as well as the slew of alcohol in your drink, mellows your inhibitions and voice. It was the calmest you’d felt the entire night. “I just needed a break from all of this,” hand motioning towards your head.

“I can understand that” Pausing for a moment he opens a nearby menu, perusing the selections. “I just came from a conference in D.C., aren’t you going to ask why?”

“Hmm, why?” You pose, head tilting as you turn to look at him.

“We’re acquiring some major stock in Marriott,” He says with a playful lilt, “Forcing a bunch of bigwigs to give up their assets is an adrenaline rush I won’t get anywhere else but there.”

“Sounds… fun?”

“In reality it’s just a bunch of stuffy old men with their own hands up their asses,” he hums, “Although I guess I have to get used to it; I’ll be one of those men someday.”

“Joshua Hong you will never be like any of those men,” sigh losing itself in your glass as you bring it back to your lips.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” as he closes his menu, he calls the bartender over, ordering some drink that sounds all too extravagant for your taste.

The pair of you sit in silence for a few moments, your glass now set atop the marble bar as your eyes wander around the warm, eclectic interior. “Are you merging them with that Canadian group? I can’t remember their name.” Snapping your fingers together as you try and recall. You look back to Joshua, who was beginning to take a drink of another one of the bartender’s creations.

The glass now moved away, and he frowns into the back of his hand; you wonder if it’s due to the alcohol. Head shaking in the negative he answers, “I actually left that partnership a year or so ago, decided I didn’t want any of ‘Daddy’s Help’ and tried my own hand at it.” Leaning back, he adjusts the lapels of his suit jacket, “And I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I do say so myself.” His confidence is a manic beast at times, but it never fails to make you roll your eyes. “What about you? Gonna commercialize your shop anytime soon?”

“As if,” You snort and look towards the darkened windows of the venue, “I’m perfectly fine in my shop,” Elbow resting on the counter, you lay your cheek atop your hand as your hair falls around your face, looking up at Joshua as your cheeks warm with embarrassment, “It’s all I can manage.”

Joshua laughs, it’s hearty and you feel your pulse rise along with the heat in your cheeks, “Don’t sell yourself short.” Shoulder shrugging, he returns to his drink while you sit up, rubbing your cheek.

“We’ll see when I get there,” smirk showing itself again as his fingers trace circles on the light marble of the bar. “Oh, weird, crazy question really,” His hand moves to his jacket, fumbling around one of the inside pockets for a moment as he searches for something.

“Want to go to a wedding with me?” A piece of elegantly cut cardstock tossed down onto the bar, you don’t recognize the names scrawled onto the front of it in some pretentious calligraphy.

“Aren’t you dating that girl?” Fingers pulling the card closer, trying to recall the name, “Yoona or something? Why don’t you take her?”

Joshua almost chokes on his water as you speak, hitting his hand against his chest to get some air. “God no,” He coughed, setting his water glass down. “Yoona’s just a family friend, more like my big sister than anything else. If anything, my sister will get married before me.”

You nod your head in understanding, “Ah, is she still dating Seungcheol?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust them to tell me if it was raining outside or not,” he muses. Suddenly his demeanor turns mischievous, you’re not sure how to properly describe it as he leans in towards you, the smirk back with a vengeance. “But why were you interested in who I’m dating? Are you curious?”

It takes most of your willpower to lean back away from him and roll your eyes as you scoff out, “As if.” He only increasingly gets closer before you put a hand on his shoulder and playfully push him back.

“And what about you?” Does he seem nervous? You hear a genuine interest in his voice, but you aren’t sure if you’re exaggerating it due to the miasma of spirits clouding your senses. “Has any prince charming come up and swept you off your feet yet?”

“Does it look like it?” Eyebrow raised, you motion to yourself, “Vernon told you why I’m here, didn’t he?” Frown settling onto your lips you finish your drink, setting it down back onto the bar with an audible clink.

“He may have mentioned it in passing,” Joshua mutters, finger rubbing along the rim of his glass.

“I haven’t spoken to him in weeks, months even and he has the audacity to send in an order?” You try your best to sound indignant, but the truth was that it’d felt like a stab to your heart to see the hastily signed ‘Wonwoo Jeon’ adorning the invoice. Your heart had almost stopped then, you’d thought that you and he were, at that point, separate entities once more. “He made it blatantly clear he wants nothing to do with me anymore, he can go woo as many Parisians as he’d like, I’m over it.” Not yet, you aren’t. But maybe repeating it enough will make it a reality.

“You know what I think?” Joshua asks, finishing the rest of his drink as you look at your empty glass.

“I’m not drunk enough?”

“I think you’re plenty gone. But I don’t think you’ve ever let anything destroy you this much, or if you have, I’m a terrible friend for not realizing it. And with that being said, I will personally take up the reins to try and get you out of this slump,”

“Any other thoughts, O wise and wonderful mood maker?”

“Yeah, this comedian’s garbage. I’ll take you to a Lenny Bruce set one day and you’ll laugh your ass off.”

“I appreciate it,” a snicker leaves you. “Anyway,” your eyes move to your watch, checking the time, “I should probably head back to my place, it’s getting late and I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.” You rummage around your bag for a crumpled mess of bills that you toss onto the counter in front of you.

You stand and begin moving towards the exit when Joshua speaks up, “Want me to walk with you?”

“If you want to,” pausing, you turn back to him and offer a smirk of your own, “it’s not too far away.” The two of you walk in silence through the winding interior of the bar as you make your way to the front entrance, you see through the large wooden doors that it is pitch black outside, thankfully the streetlights adorning the sidewalks keep things fairly visible. When the doors open and the two of you step outside you can’t help but let out a “Shit, it got cold.”

“Here,” Joshua shrugs off his already unbuttoned suit jacket and hands it to you, you can see the thin dress shirt he’s wearing, and you wonder how he’s not shivering himself. “Did you leave your jacket inside?” He asks as you drape the soft fabric over your shoulders.

“At the shop,” Standing outside, your toes on the edge of the sidewalk, your head cranes, trying to remember which way you’d walked here. “It’s…” you look at the signs at the end of the street, “that way,” hand motioning towards your abode once you recognize the names. “It’s about a fifteen-minute walk, I can always call a cab or something, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“It’s alright,” His shoulders shrug as the two of you begin walking, “It’ll help the alcohol get out of your system.” Had he seen you stumbling on your feet on your way out? If he did, he doesn’t say as the two of you walk the uneven streets, pushing through masses of tourists and civilians parading around the city. It’s not long until the crowds wear thin, leaving you, Joshua, and the occasional pedestrian roaming the streets. “I’ve always loved this city,” Joshua muses as the two of you stroll through one of the many parks dotting the town.

Nodding, “It’s lively for sure.” Your hands move to close his jacket tighter around your bare shoulders, “I don’t think I could imagine leaving it.”

“Maybe for a summer home though?” Joshua laughs, moving his hands to his pockets. “I remember how you’d stay inside whenever it snowed or went below thirty when we were kids.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, “I wouldn’t say it’s that much of a problem anymore, I’m just a big fan of the sun in all its glory, not when it’s obscured behind a wall of cl—” Perhaps you would’ve finished that sentence had the heel of your, admittedly too high-heeled shoe not gotten caught between one of the junctures of the sidewalk, causing you to fall forward. You feel a pair of hands on you, one wrapped around your waist and one on your shoulder, as the ground rapidly rises to meet you.

Eyes closed you hear, “Are you alright?” as you’re hoisted back up onto your feet, never feeling the impact of the ground.

“I’m fine.” Once his hands had left you, you raise your hands to your cheeks, feeling the rushing blood warm your palms, “I guess I’m a little tipsier than I thought.”

Joshua looks at you for a moment, and then down to your feet, “I think you broke a heel.” Finger raised; you follow it downwards to look at the heel almost completely detached from the sole. “Here,” voice quickening as if to distract you from it, he takes your arm and puts it over his shoulder so you can lean some of your weight onto him, “wouldn’t want you to fall over again.” After offering him a quick smile and a small ‘thanks’ of gratitude you begin to walk again.

After a minute or so of walking, the pair of you take a turn onto one of the main drags of the city, the cool air soaking into you. “Do you mind if we stop for a second?” You ask, thinking you may have twisted your ankle when you tripped.

“Of course,” the two of you make your way to a bench along the sidewalk, you sit while Joshua stands next to you. It’s a moment of quiet before he speaks up again, “Are you feeling alright?”

You can only shake your head in the negative, for fear that you may explode should you open your mouth.

“What’s wrong?” He questions, sitting down next to you, his hand falling atop yours in an act of subtle comfort.

Everything. Your throat becomes dry as you lean forward and embrace him, unable to vocalize the horrid deluge of hopelessness and heartbreak washing over you.

You had seen the shop where Wonwoo was apprenticing when you’d gone into Seungcheol’s one morning, it had been featured in some editorial that he subscribed to. Seeing that it was a beautiful boutique and was quite revered among local and international audiences hadn’t dampened the blow at all. Wonwoo hadn’t been lying when he said it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

It still hurts. You’d been selfish in trying to make things work, too absorbed in it you hadn’t felt him slipping away until it was too late. Vernon had sat you down one day and told you to shape up. Wonwoo wasn’t coming back and the sooner you realized it the sooner you’d get over him. You don’t remember how long you cried into his shoulder for. For the eidolon of him was beginning to fade now, the lingering remnants of it still striking you to the core whenever you catch a glimpse of it.

“I just want to go home,” you try your best to sound strong, hating that the veneer you usually kept was able to slip so easily. Pulling away from the other you move to stand, kicking off your shoes and moving to hold them before you begin to walk.

“Aren’t your feet going to get cold? It’s nearly the middle of winter,” Joshua calls out after you as he catches up, unsure of how to go about comforting you.

“I’ll be fine,” your toes cold on the concrete, “It’s only a few blocks away.”

It’s silence once more as the pair of you two amble to your apartment, the windows dark when you approach, Sooyoung must be out again. A sigh leaving you, alone again.

“Thanks for walking with me, Shua.” You stop, turning to your accompaniment and smiling softly at him.

“Shua?” His brow raises at that, “Are you sure you’re not still drunk? I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were twelve.”

“Yeah, I know. But I mean it, thank you.” Your other friends had tried to console you but Joshua’s attempt had been the most successful so far that had gotten you to even budge ever so slightly from the slump you’d found yourself in.

1967, Summer. The sparkler hisses as Joshua hands it to you, the bright end flickering with every centimeter the flame engulfs. A smile on your lips as you look at him, an equally bemused smile gracing his face as he steps away and begins handing out sparklers to a few other guests. After the host finishes handing out the sticks a large chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ begins to ring out, directed at Jihoon Lee.

You didn’t really know the guy, but Joshua said he was hosting a birthday bash at a lake house up in the Catskills this weekend and it was a good excuse to get away from the city for a bit. It was a work friend of his, not sure from which endeavor but you aren’t complaining. Work at the shop had been far too busy to manage with just Vernon and you, you’d been looking at several applicants, but you had a difficult time sifting through the resumes. This was a much needed, and much deserved, break away from it all.

Before the sparkler has a chance to burn down to your fingertips you blow it out and set it onto one of the porcelain plates atop the table in front of you. A small crowd had gathered to sing and with the rapidly setting sun it was difficult to see familiar faces among the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” A pair of hands placed on your hips as the question sounds out, the familiarity of it making you smile a little brighter.

“Just you,” You turn, looking at Joshua.

“Oh?” He questions, leaning in for a brief kiss before pulling away, “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one that means you’re thinking of something,” A sparkle in his eye, the light from the nearby dock casting a green glow onto the lawn.

“Just work things,” you admit, “Even if I’m miles away from the shop it’s still on my mind.”

“Work’s a sickness, isn’t it?” He mutters, “Well, they’ve already started to cut the cake, want to head in and grab a slice?”

“Sure,” you say as his hands leave your sides, taking one of your hands in his and heading through the lawn and into the brightly lit interior of the home.

“Seungcheol said he’d be arriving a little later, my sister’s ready to blow a gasket but, when isn’t she?” Joshua laughs as you make your way to a nearby table, grabbing a plate with a precut slice of cake on it before turning back to him.

“Is this from the same bakery who made my cake last year?” You ask with nearly a mouthful of cake.

“I told you I made that cake,” he says jokingly, grabbing his own slice, “And if it were, would you say yea or nay for them making the wedding cake?”

“Yea. Definitely, this is by far the best buttercream I’ve ever had,” you nod, “Although I do need a drink.”

“Amaretto sour?” Questioning as he sets down his plate, ready to go off and mix your drink himself.

“You know I can’t,” a frown settling on your lips as you take another bite, “Just water.”

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Joshua says and heads to the bar in the next room over.

You move out of the way of the other partygoers looking for food and make your way to a window that looks out at the road in front of the house. As you watch, you see the bright headlights of a car pulling into the drive, trying to careen past the other vehicles lined up there. It must be Seungcheol.

It’d been a while since you’d last seen him, having to mail his orders to him now that you’d moved shop locations. So, you head to the front door, anxious to see an old friend. The door opens with a swing of grandeur, Seungcheol Choi stepping inside with a clear look of panic on his face.

Seungcheol spots you as he enters, rushing over to you, “She’s not angry, is she?”

“Your wife?” You question, putting a finger under your chin in thought, “She’s only told half of the people here how upset she is, so I think you still have time to save yourself.”

“I’d better get in there then,” he sighs, almost brushing past you before he stops, “I should also tell you that—”

You don’t hear what he says, though. Because you hadn’t realized that there was someone standing behind him until they step through the dark entranceway and into the bright lights of the foyer. For a moment it feels like time has stopped, the plate in your hand straining from the pressure your fingers now exert on it as you lock eyes with someone you hadn’t ever expected to see again.

It’s you who breaks away first, mumbling about needing to find Joshua while it feels as if your heart seizes upon itself in your chest. Before you’re able to rejoin the party, you feel a hand gently grasp your arm, “Can we talk?” The question is quiet, almost lost in the atmosphere of the celebration as Wonwoo asks.

A strangled gulp as you nod, setting the plate down on a small mail-table before you brush past him exit out of the front door. He follows you wordlessly, from the gravel path that wraps around the house and to the backyard that overlooks the lake. You keep walking, wading through grass that comes up to your knees until you’re standing on the wooden dock, the gentle sloshing of water hitting the posts giving you something else to focus on.

Face green in the glow of the dock light overhead, it beams around the soft fog rising from the water as you hope it would swallow you up instead of you having this conversation with Wonwoo.

“You never returned my calls,” he says, standing several feet away. His tone isn’t accusatory, it sounds hurt.

“I kept forgetting.” Liar. Nails digging into your palms as your hands clench with an anxiety that hadn’t riddled you for two years. “And you only called four times.”

“Five.”

“Four.” Resolution in your voice as you try and stand as firmly as you can. The shoes you’re wearing are pinching your heels and you want nothing more than to kick them off into the water. You turn to look at him, trying to stay calm. “Would you have picked up even if I did call back?” A tangle in your stomach as you recall having Sooyoung answer the phone for the next handful of weeks after the two of you had parted, each time he’d called Sooyoung would say you weren’t home.

He hesitates, at least his body does, the words, “Of course I would have,” escaping him before he could prepare himself with a more eloquent response.

“You seem to be doing well,” It’s silent until you break it, noting the suit he was wearing was from a higher end retailer.

“So, do you,” a break in his voice as he notices the crack in your demeanor, “I didn’t see you at Seungcheol’s wedding, I thought he would have invited you.”

“My mother got sick, so I missed it,�� you recall having to forgo the event last year. Did that mean Wonwoo had been back that soon?

“You still have the dress.” There had been a melancholy deep set into your bones that had lasted for what seemed like lifetimes, now resurfacing more and more the longer you look at him. You’d forgotten about what you were wearing, the same dress that the tailor had labored unknown hours over and that had been the figurative wedge between you and him. Maybe this was some deity’s cruel sense of irony. “I still think it’s one of the best I’ve ever made,”

“It’s a little tighter now but it’s still one of my favorites,” you can’t lie. Be it from the laborious love that was sewn into every stitch or the bygone memories associated with it, it was and still is one of the best pieces you own.

“I really was an idiot for letting you go, wasn’t I?” Hands shoved into pockets, he’s not sure what to do with himself.

“You did what you had to.” Brow hardening, a remembrance of the last time you’d spoken.

“Don’t say it like that,” a soft plea, he’d never meant to hurt you.

“Then how should I say it?” Bitterness you thought forgotten riddles every word you pose.

“You know I tried to visit your shop when I first came back,” Deterrent of the conversation, he looks across the water to the distant shore. “But it was empty, some guy passing by had said you packed up months earlier and just left.”

“There was a water main break, ruined most of our inventory and we had to rebuild from scratch in a new place.” You still remember the dread you’d felt that morning, walking in to find everything in shambles.

“With Joshua’s help?”

“Joshua helped.”

“Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” eyes flickering to the ring on your finger, the light of the dock glinting off the main stone. “He’s a lucky man.”

Wonwoo sounds bitter, you can understand why but you can’t understand one thing. “Why did you come? I’m sure that Seungcheol said that I was going to be here.”

“I don’t know.” The answer is simple, but there’s a heaviness to it that you can feel. “I’m supposed to be flying out to Milan tomorrow. I guess I just wanted to see you again.”

“Did you expect me to fall into your arms, Wonwoo? To take you back?” Lip bitten, you’re sure you were going to draw blood if you kept at it any longer.

“Maybe I did when I came back last year, when I’d tried to see you.” He frowns, “I think now I want to make sure you’re happy.”

Happy. It feels as if that word dances off of the water behind you, across the sound and into the forest. Were you? The encroaching despair that had taken aim and marked you when Wonwoo had left was gone, a memory overwritten by the years that had followed, by the people who had followed. The shedding of yourself that came when he left took a while but without a doubt you can truly say this is the most complacent you’ve ever been.

The door to the lake house opens some ways behind Wonwoo, the lights from inside spreading across the lawn in an obscene spotlight on the two of you. A silhouette stands in the doorway, it’s easy to tell who the figure is as he leans against the door frame. You smile as you look at the outline of Joshua, heart swelling as it once had for the other man in front of you.

“Yeah, Wonwoo, I’m happy.”

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#seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo x you #svt smut #svt fluff #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt x you

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pedroscurls · 3 months ago

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training partners (pt. 2)

summary: after your next training session, you join hugh for lunch at his place. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), reader has some description (hair, outfit), sensual and initmate smut (unprotected p in v sex - creampie oops, missionary, cowgirl, marking and biting, light dirty talk) no use of y/n. word count: 8.9k (i got carried away lol) a/n: this is part two to training partners. i needed more lol and i told myself that it would only be a two-parter, but i may or may not continue this with more... (let me know if i should write more parts to this story bc i'm having so much fun writing this!) again, i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman and this is purely fictional (all in my delulu mind). prev part. - next part.

It’s been a week since meeting Hugh and it’s still so surreal that you’re frequently talking to him. Or rather, he’s frequently reaching out to you whether it’s through a text message, a phone call, or FaceTime. You realize just how comfortable you are with him, how you can completely be yourself and not worry about what he thinks, because he just makes you feel like who you are as a person is enough. It’s something you haven’t felt before and there’s a part of you that tries to tell yourself that this isn’t going to be serious. You’re just going to have fun. Hugh isn’t going to want something serious, so don’t set yourself up for disappointment.

But the more you talk to him, the more you find yourself imagining and daydreaming what it would be like to be in a fully committed relationship with him. You know it’s never going to happen, but a girl can dream, right?

On today’s workout, you decide to wear a faded black oversized t-shirt and black spandex shorts. You put your hair into two braids and slip your shoes on. Within a few minutes, you hear a knock on your door and you bite your lower lip in anticipation. You’re excited, yet nervous, to see Hugh again. Despite the plenty of FaceTime calls over the last week, it’s just a different feeling seeing him in person. Right in front of you. Within arms reach.

You swing your door open and look up at Hugh who’s smiling in your direction. He’s dressed in black shorts and a black fitted t-shirt that looks like it’s about to tear at the seams around his biceps. It causes you to bite your lower lip, yearning to reach out to just squeeze and–

“Good morning, love,” Hugh says with a chuckle, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Hi, good morning, sorry,” you apologize, looking down at your feet. “You wanna come on in? I’m just grabbing the rest of my things.”

“I’d love to,” Hugh responds. “But can I get a proper greeting?”

“Oh, so me checking you out isn’t proper?”

Hugh grins. “I’d say it’s far from proper, love.”

Your eyes narrow and then you step up to him, your arms wrapping around his frame as his long arms wrap around your waist. “Is this proper enough?” you whisper against him.

“Very proper,” he whispers, tightening his hold on you before he pulls away. “We still on for lunch after our workout?”

You nod, leading him inside of your apartment. “Yeah, but I just realized I’m gonna be all sweaty and in your home and–”

“Pack a change of clothes. You can shower at my place.”

You shut the door behind him and then walk into your living room with him trailing behind you, trying to bite back the excitement that settles in the pit of your stomach. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Not imposing at all. I want to spend time with you…” Hugh begins. “In a setting that’s just you and me.”

“Okay, Hugh.” You say, turning around once he takes your wrist to spin you to face him. He brings you to his chest and uses his free hand to rest onto your hip. He looks so incredibly large in your small apartment and you can’t help but feel the butterflies swarm in the pit of your stomach. Even though he looks so out of place in your apartment, it feels right having him here. With you.

“But only if you’re okay with it,” he says, releasing his hold on your wrist to rest it on the other side of your hip.

Slowly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping closer to him until your front is flush against his own. “I’m more than okay with it. I just don’t want you to think that I’m… You know…”

“I don’t,” he shakes his head. “What?”

“That I only want you because you’re famous and you’re rich.”

“Oh, I thought those were the only two reasons.” He teases. “And because I’m old and you like older men.”

You let out a quiet laugh, gently punching his chest and his hands fall from your hips to wrap his arms instead around your waist. He holds you tightly against him and slowly dips down until his lips are mere inches from yours. “Seriously, Hugh.”

“I know, love. Listen, I like your company. You make me laugh and it’s a while since I’ve felt this way.” Then, he brings a hand up to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, careful not to mess with your braids. “Whatever way you’ll have me, I’m fine with it.”

“But I’m just me…” you whisper.

“And you being you is a breath of fresh air. I like it. I like you.”

You feel the corners of your lips turn upwards, the heat in your cheeks rising once more and you feel like you can lean in to kiss him. But you don’t. Not yet. You still have a workout to get to.

“The Hugh Jackman likes me?” You feign a shocking expression, looking up into his eyes.

Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and leans into bury his face against your neck, his stubble brushing against you and causing you to let out an uncontrollable giggle. “Oh, you’re ticklish, are ya?” He smirks against you, lips brushing against your neck as his stubble continues to tickle your skin.

You squirm against him, trying to pull away from him, but he just tightens his grip on you as your laughter fills your entire apartment. “Hugh!” you exclaim in between giggles, pushing against his hard chest. It’s no use though, he’s just so much stronger, so much bigger, and it isn’t until you lose your footing that he falls on his back on your couch with you on top of him that the laughter begins to die down. You pull back enough to look down at him, his hands gripping your hips as you realize that your legs had subconsciously placed themselves on either side of him.

You’re literally straddling him and he’s staring at you with lust-filled eyes. Your core is pressed firmly against his lower half and you feel his length stir against you, hardening with each passing second.

“Hugh…”

Your eyes deviate to his lips, watching him bite his lower lip as his fingertips dig into your hips. “Ya think we’d get in trouble if we miss our workout?” he whispers huskily. “Because I think I really like this view and I don’t wanna get up.”

Your cheeks are hot. You’re sure that he can feel the heat between your legs and you’re afraid to move because you’re sure that if you do, you’d lost all ounce of resolve and want to just pounce him because while he likes the view of you being on top of him, you absolutely love the view of him underneath you.

“We should get up,” you mumble, though you don’t make any movements to stand up. Instead, Hugh wraps his arms around your waist as he sits up and adjusts himself on your couch until he’s sitting back against it. With each of his movements, your hips move against his, letting out a quiet whimper at the friction.

“You really want to?” he says, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “Maybe we can…”

“Do our own version of cardio?” you tease, obviously breaking the tension as you both erupt into a fit of laughter. You wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely. “What do you say?”

“As much as I’d love that,” Hugh chuckles. “I’d wanna take my time with you, love.”

“Hm, then I guess we’ll have to wait.”

“Guess so,” he says, though begins to lean in closer to you. “But can I…” Hugh begins to ask, eyes dropping to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Kiss you?”

“Such a gentleman, Hugh Jackman,” you tease. “I thought old men like to be in control and–”

“You’re a little brat,” he growls, leaning in to finally press his lips against yours. You gasp immediately, feeling one of his hands move up to cup your cheek. He wastes no time in moving his lips against your own. It’s like your breath is being taken from you with how aggressive Hugh is, nipping and biting at your lower lip. You can’t control the way you’re feeling, the way your legs want to close shut and your core yearning to squeeze around something. You let out a quiet moan and slowly roll your hips against his own, feeling his entire length press against you once more.

When Hugh groans against your lips, it lights a fire in you. In a fleeting moment, you want to just devour him and drop to your knees in front of him so that you can hear more of his groans and grunts. You lean further into him, gasping as you feel his fingertips touch your skin. His hands move underneath your shirt and with your gasp, he uses this moment to slide his tongue past your lips.

Suddenly, you pull away, breathing heavily with his hands still underneath your shirt and your hands gripping his.

“We’re getting carried away,” you whisper, breathlessly.

“Hm,” he grins, licking his lower lip. “You’re distracting,” he teases.

You roll your eyes and slowly climb off his lap, missing the feeling of him between your legs. Your eyes dip lower and notice the slight tent in his shorts, watching as he reaches down to readjust himself.

“I’m gonna–” you clear your throat. “I’m gonna grab my things and then we should go. Or else we’ll never leave.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Hugh grins. “But okay. We should be at the gym soon.”

As you’re walking away, Hugh stands up and takes your hand once more. He pulls you flush against him, arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he dips down to press gentle and soft kisses along the side of your neck. “I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs against you.

Your eyes flutter shut, hands moving to rest over his as you lean back against him. “Hugh, now you’re the one who’s distracting.”

“Fine, okay,” he chuckles, pulling away from you. “I’m going to wait outside because you’re a bit dangerous right now.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you,” Hugh laughs. “Because if I stay in your apartment another minute, I’m gonna end up taking you where you stand, love.”

You let out a shaky breath and then nod your head, waiting for him to turn on his heel to leave your apartment. Once he does and you hear the door shut, you realize you’ve been holding your breath. You bite your lower lip, bringing your fingertips to graze your lips as you think back to the very heated kiss on your couch. Oh, you won’t be looking at that couch the same way again.

After you grab a change of clothes and put it in your duffle bag, you drape it over your shoulder and grab your phone and keys and leave your apartment. You see Hugh leaning against his car, opening the passenger door for you as he takes the bag from you.

“Such a gentleman,” you point out.

Hugh catches you by surprise and leans in to peck your lips. “D’ya like it?”

“What? You being a gentleman?”

Hugh nods.

“I do, but I also like…” you bite your lower lip as you climb into the passenger seat. “I also like it rough.” Without allowing him to respond, you shut the door and smirk to yourself. Hugh is awakening something inside of you, something that you had suppressed for so long and it feels good to finally let loose and be yourself. It’s easy with him.

You see him then set your bag in the trunk before he shuts it closed and then walks to the driver’s side. He climbs in and looks at you, eyes narrowed as he starts the car and buckles his seatbelt. When Hugh pulls out of your parking lot, he reaches over and rests his hand on your upper thigh, his fingers resting on the inside of your thigh.

“What are you doing?” you ask, resting a hand over his own.

“Showing dominance,” Hugh winks.

“Showing dominance?” you laugh quietly. “By putting your hand on my thigh?”

He nods, one hand on the steering wheel as he keeps eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He moves his hand slightly higher. His pinky moves just slightly and you feel it brush against your core, causing a quiet gasp to escape your lips.

“Hugh!”

“See? Dominance.”

“You’re a tease, that’s what you are.”

Hugh then lets out a loud laugh. “Me? The tease? May I remind you what you were doing to me back at your apartment, baby?”

Love. Baby. All of these terms of endearment are slowly breaking down your resolve.

“Okay, okay,” you say quietly, biting your lower lip as you feel his pinky move up and down along your core. It causes your eyes to flutter shut, the light touch against you making you yearn for more. You need more. You need him.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna get through today’s workout,” Hugh begins, stopping at a red light as he turns to look at you. He’s glad his windows are tinted, no one able to tell who he is or what he’s doing right now. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he turns his hand to press firmly against your clothed sex, gently using his middle finger to rub circles against your clit. “Because all I’m gonna be thinking about, baby, are the sounds you’re making and how you’re gonna feel wrapped around me.”

You let out quiet moans as you grip his wrist, trying to push him away but he remains persistent. His touch against you becomes stronger and he pulls away only because the light turns green. Your eyes narrow in his direction and you realize that you’re almost close to the gym. When he pulls into the parking lot and puts the car in park, you reach over the console and move your hand to rest above his crotch. You hear his breath hitch in his throat as Hugh looks in your direction, biting his lower lip.

“What are you doin’?”

“What you were doing to me,” you whisper, feeling the length of him underneath the palm of your hand. You then bring your fingertip to run across his length, feeling it begin to harden underneath your touch. “I think it’s only fair.”

His hand darts out to grab your wrist and pull it away from him, eyes narrowing as Hugh leans in. His lips are dangerously close to yours and you stare at him with a mischievous look on your face, biting your lower lip.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growls.

“You promise?”

Hugh chuckles and leans in to peck your lips. “Oh, it’s a promise.”

—

After another grueling workout session, you’re already drenched in sweat and making your way to Hugh’s car. While you still pushed yourself past your limits during the session, you couldn’t help but be distracted by him. Every chance he could get, he’d make sure to touch you – whether it’s a soft touch on your lower back, a gentle hand on your shoulder. Hugh wanted more of you and he could tell throughout the session that your eyes lingered on him. It excited him to know just what might happen once you both leave to go to his place.

“You ready?” Hugh asks, motioning towards the door. You nod and walk in front of him, giving him a good view of your backside and legs and he bites his lower lip, his thoughts going back to the moment you shared on your couch. Once outside in the parking lot, Hugh gently takes your bag from you and sets it in his truck.

“So,” he hears you say once he climbs into the driver’s side. “What will you be making me?”

“Something healthy,” Hugh grins. “I am on a strict diet for Wolverine.”

“Okay, I can do healthy. What do you have in mind?”

“You’re so eager,” he chuckles, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to make his way to his home. “Can’t you just be a good girl and wait and see?”

Good girl. Your eyes narrow at him and bite your lower lip. All of the nicknames he’s been given you this last week: Love. Baby. Brat. Good girl. It shoots straight to your core and you look over at him, moving your hand to rest over his forearm that’s resting against the middle console. Two can play that game, you tell yourself.

“What if…” you whisper, running your fingertips lightly across his forearm. “What if I don’t want to be a good girl?”

That causes Hugh’s head to turn. He stops the car at a red light, knowing that you’re both only about twenty minutes away from his house. His hand grips the steering wheel as he looks down at you, noticing the look in your eyes. “Oh, you know what you’re doing, don’t you, baby?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to figure out what you’re gonna feed me.”

“Oh, I’ll feed you something, alright,” he smirks, turning his attention back on the road once the light turns green. Hugh moves his hand back to your leg, but he keeps it resting on your thigh. He knows that if he pushes this further, he’d end up pulling over on the side of the road and taking you in this car.

After twenty minutes, he pulls into his parking garage and notices the look on your face. He can tell that you’re in shock and in awe over his house, and he knows just what you’re about to say so he reaches over to take your hand in his, lifting it to his lips. “Don’t say what you’re about to say, love.”

“You don’t know what I’m gonna say, Hugh.”

Hugh chuckles and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “I know you’re gonna make a comment about me being so–”

“Rich,” you finish for him. “You’re rich. I mean, look at your place and–”

Hugh shakes his head and interrupts you by pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was meant to quiet you, but instead, you take the initiative to climb over the console and straddle his lap while he’s seated in the driver’s seat. His hands move to your hips as he moves his lips slowly against your own.

“Mmm,” you whimper against his lips, rolling your hips slowly. Your hands move to tangle in his hair as you nip and bite at his lower lip.

Hugh growls against your lips, moving his hands to run up along your thighs and underneath your shirt. God, you make him feel like a teenager all over again because he’s throbbing almost painfully at the way your hips roll against his own. He needs to adjust himself or get some relief because he’s so hard underneath you that he has to pull away from you.

“Here you are again,” he whispers. “Distracting me,” Hugh continues, pulling his hands away from you to rest gently on your upper thighs.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle. “Can I shower while you make lunch?”

“Yeah, let me show you around.” He opens the driver’s side of the door and watches you climb off his lap. Hugh adjusts himself in his shorts and then climbs out after you, walking to the trunk of his car and grabbing both of your bags.

With his free hand, he takes yours and you can’t help but smile. You turn your hand to lace your fingers with his as he leads you into his home. You look around in awe, the white walls, high ceilings, and floor-to-ceiling windows make you feel incredibly small, but despite the large space that Hugh has brought you in, it feels very homey. Very comfortable. You can’t help but look around, surrounded by the amazing view of the city and the natural light coming into his home. You then quickly release his hand only to remove your shoes and he smiles at you, leaning against the wall near the stairs

“You didn’t have to take your shoes off.”

“Are you kidding me? Look at this floor! I don’t want to get it dirty.”

Hugh laughs and then motions towards the stairs to his left. “I can set your things in the guest bedroom and you can shower there. Or…” he says, biting his lower lip as he takes in your frame, making it very obvious that he’s checking you out. You know where his mind wanders and you stand up to rest your hands on his chest, leaning up on your toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re not gonna show me where the magic happens,” you tease with a quiet giggle.

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” he replies.

“I’m comfortable,” you answer honestly. “With you, it’s easy. I can be myself and that’s saying something.” You don’t want to get too much into detail. This is supposed to just be casual. You don’t need to tell Hugh your life story and how you came to be the way that you are.

“Oh,” Hugh smiles. His eyes sparkle as he looks into your own and it makes your heart melt. “The feeling is mutual, actually.” He finally says. “Come on. Let’s head up.”

You follow him up the stairs, but you’re distracted by the amount of pictures and paintings that are hung up along the wall. You want to stop and admire each one, but instead, you keep following him. Once at the top of the stairs, Hugh leads you down the hallway and opens the door. You widen your eyes at the amount of space. It looks so much bigger than your apartment and this is only a bedroom!

“Jesus,” you whisper under your breath.

Hugh sets both of your bags down near the bed and watches you with a small smile. You’re walking around his bedroom and he finds that he likes seeing you here. In his home. With him. He watches you walk towards the windows, arms crossing over your chest as he hears you let out a sigh.

Slowly, Hugh walks towards you and gently wraps his arms around you from behind. He rests his head against you and places a soft kiss on the side of your neck.

“What’s got you sighing, love?” he asks quietly.

“It’s just an amazing view. I always loved seeing the city and it’s just–” you sigh. “It’s beautiful. You can see everything.”

“You should see the view of the sunset,” Hugh smiles against you. “If you want to stay, I can also make us dinner.”

Slowly, you turn in his arms and look up at him. You feel his hands move to rest on your lower back as he pulls you flush against him. You still can’t believe you’re here with him, with Hugh Jackman. The way he’s made you feel in just a short amount of time of knowing him does scare you, but you can’t help the pull you feel towards him.

“What’s next, Hugh? Spend the night?” you tease, bringing your hands up his arms to his shoulders, taking your time to feel the muscles underneath your fingertips.

“Would that be a bad thing?” he says, dipping his head lower to press a light kiss on your lips.

“I didn’t pack an overnight bag,” you smile.

“Who says you’re gonna need the clothes?” Hugh winks, moving his hand down to grasp your backside with a firm grip. It causes you to gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against his neck.

“You’re a tease.”

Hugh chuckles and pulls away to look down at you. “If you’re comfortable with it, I’d love it if you’d stay. At least for dinner.”

You bite your lower lip and stare up at him. You try to remind yourself that you deserve this, that you deserve something good, that you deserve him. “As long as you’re not tired of me yet, I’d love to stay.”

“I could never,” he says with a big grin. “Okay, I’ll let you shower. I’m gonna shower in the other bathroom. Come downstairs whenever you’re done.”

“Thank you, Hugh.” You say seriously, bringing your hand up to his cheek. You feel the stubble against your fingertips as your eyes scan his features. He leans into your touch and slowly turns his head to press a kiss into your palm.

“It’s my pleasure, baby. I’ll see you in a bit.” Hugh places a kiss on your forehead, pulling away slowly as he looks at you with a broad smile. Then, he walks into his closet and leaves you in the bedroom as you walk over to grab your bag. You then walk inside the bathroom and shut the door behind you. If his bedroom surprised you, his bathroom was a different story.

This doesn’t feel real. How can someone like you be here with someone like him? You wonder if this is his way of just having fun. Your trainer mentioned he was single and you assumed he was married. You would be lying if you said you never searched him on Google, but the last time you checked, he was a married man for over twenty years. Maybe this was just his way of getting back out there and that this wasn’t going to be anything serious.

You try to tell yourself to enjoy the ride, even if it may not last long.

“I deserve this,” you whisper to yourself. “I’m enough.” You continue to say this over and over again, trying to revert the negative thoughts that begin to creep in your mind with the negative self-talk.

—

After thirty minutes, you step out of his bathroom dressed in casual loungewear. You didn’t know what to bring, so you opted for comfortability. You’re wearing black knit pants with a black crop top. It’s a matching lounge set and when you begin to make your way downstairs, you can hear quiet music playing in the kitchen. You’re walking barefoot, the cold tile of the floor causing your feet to wiggle at the coolness.

When you round the corner, you see Hugh setting the table in the corner. His windows capture your attention because everywhere you look, it’s a clear view of the city. His hair is slightly damp and he’s also barefoot, dressed in a fitted black t-shirt and gray joggers. He looks so normal like this, so domesticated and unlike the persona he presents to the media. You feel lucky to get even a glimpse of this side of him.

“Hey,” you call out, seeing him turn around to face you. He grins in your direction, his eyes taking in your frame.

“Hey,” he replies. “You look comfy.”

“I am comfy,” you smile, walking towards him. “It smells good.”

“Ah,” Hugh chuckles. “It’s just eggs, toast, and avocado. Strict diet,” he points out again.

“Well, good thing I like all of those things. Thank you for making me lunch.” You’re about to sit down before Hugh pulls you into his arms. He cups your cheek with one hand while his other wraps his arm around your waist.

“Thank you for having lunch with me.” Hugh says softly. “I really…” he sighs quietly. “I’m really enjoying the time we’re spending with each other.”

“Me too, Hugh,” you smile, leaning against his touch. “Come on, let’s eat.”

Hugh nods and pecks your lips and pulls away slowly. He rests his forehead against yours as he exhales a quiet breath. There’s an unspoken feeling that lingers in the air between the both of you and Hugh can’t deny it. He knows there’s an age gap, knows that his lifestyle might be completely different than what you’re used to, but he knows that he wants more of this. He wants more moments with you.

“What?” you ask quietly.

“Nothing, baby. Let’s eat.” Hugh then pulls away to pull out your chair. He watches you take a seat and then he moves to sit next to you, arm draping over the back of your chair. He sees you look up to stare at the view and he smiles to himself, leaning in to kiss your temple.

Throughout lunch, you feel more and more comfortable. Your legs are curled underneath the chair as you lean against his side, resting your head against his shoulder. You can’t help but notice how much you laugh when you’re with him and how much you love seeing his smile and hearing his laugh.

He pays close attention to you and it makes you feel seen and heard and unlike anything you’ve felt before. Even though you aren’t in a relationship with Hugh, it makes you daydream and imagine just exactly what it would be like. You know that you can get used to this, spending more and more time with him like this. In his home. In yours. You realize that you want him more permanently in your life, in whatever way that may be.

“Okay, okay,” you say, looking up at him after you both finish eating. “What was your first impression of me?”

Hugh arches a brow. “Honestly?”

“Yeah, honestly.”

Hugh turns to face you and tilts his head to the side. “Well, for one, you were on all fours so I couldn’t help but take a peek.”

You feign a gasp and gently push against his chest. “Naughty, Hugh!”

Hugh chuckles and shakes his head. “But I liked your honesty. I liked that you were just… You. Genuinely you. You don’t see that very often, especially not around me.”

“Oh, right. Big celebrity and all,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully.

Hugh smiles. “Seriously. Some people just get close to you because they want something out of it. It’s hard to tell if someone is being genuine or not, but with you…” he says, beginning to trail off with a shake of his head. “I know we joke around a lot, calling me the Hugh Jackman, how famous I am, but I just feel like you see me for me. Not as the Hugh Jackman,” he chuckles. “Your honesty was refreshing. It’s like I mentioned before. You’re a breath of fresh air, baby.”

You bite your lower lip as you listen to him talk. You feel your stomach do flips and you lean in to press a soft kiss on his lips. His hand drops to your hip as he rubs circles against you, feeling your skin against the pad of his thumb as your shirt rides up when you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I feel comfortable around you,” you reply. “Like I can truly be myself and I haven’t had that in a very long time. I feel like I’m becoming myself again.”

Hugh smiles, slowly pulling you onto his lap. You lean back against the table as your arms remain loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips.

“Did something–” Hugh begins. “Happen? I remember our trainer mentioning something about negative self-talk last week…”

You bite your lower lip. You weren’t planning on ever telling him your past relationship because you didn’t feel like you needed to. This wasn’t going to be serious… Right?

“I just got out of a three year relationship a few months ago. I gave a lot of myself into that relationship and never got anything in return. I just–” you sigh, looking away from him. “It’s embarrassing. I just let myself go.”

Hugh sighs and hooks a finger under your chin to get you to look at him. His eyes search yours, staring deeply into you. “It’s not embarrassing. It just shows that you have a lot of love to give and he took that for granted.”

Your eyes soften as you look at him. You never did think of it that way and you didn’t realize just how much you needed to hear that. There’s a silence that engulfs the both of you and you feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, pent up emotions threatening to spill out.

“Oh,” he whispers, his own eyes widening slightly. “I didn’t– Baby, are you okay?” Hugh says softly, gently cupping your cheek.

You don’t respond. Instead, you just lean in to press your lips firmly against his warm and soft lips. You feel the warmth bloom in your chest, butterflies in the pit of your stomach, and for once in a very long time, you feel whole. Not because of Hugh, but because of the words he said.

He was right.

You did have a lot of love to give.

“Mm, wait, wait,” Hugh says, pulling away to look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” you say, almost breathlessly. “Take me to your room?”

His eyes slightly widen, brows raising. “Oh.” Hugh says. “Oh. Yeah, come on.” He stands from his chair and takes your hand in his, helping you to stand from your own seat. You take his hand eagerly, using your free hand to hold onto his forearm as well as you allow him to lead you back up the stairs and into his room.

You can feel the thrumming in your chest, the anticipation looming in the pit of your stomach, and you’re certainly aware of the throbbing you feel in between your legs. Hugh brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of your hand before he leads you down the hall and into his room. Once inside, he shuts the door behind him and turns around to face you.

You can see the look in his eyes. It’s filled with lust and desire, turning to a darker shade. The backs of your legs touch his mattress and he walks towards you, arms reaching out to rest on your hips as he leans down to capture your lips softly.

“Been thinking about this, about you,” he whispers against your lips. “I don’t normally do this,” Hugh begins, pulling away to look into your eyes.

“Do what? Have casual sex?” you tease, moving your hands up his arms and giving his biceps a gentle squeeze.

“I wouldn’t call this casual,” Hugh points out. “At least I don’t want it to be,” he admits. “Is that okay?”

“You know, this is a conversation people usually have after having sex.” You smile, hands moving further up his biceps to his shoulders and to the nape of his neck where you tangle your fingers in his dark hair. “But I also don’t want this to be casual either…” you whisper quietly. “And I also don’t normally do this too.”

Hugh smiles. You can see his eyes sparkle with excitement as he snakes his arms around your frame. “We’re just stepping out of our comfort zones, aren’t we?”

“Nothing wrong with that,” you reply, slowly sitting on the bed and pulling him on top of you. He uses one hand to rest above your head while the other remains around your waist and gently moves the both of you in the middle of the bed. It’s so large and you’re sure that it has to be an extra large king sized bed or something, because even he looks small on it.

Slowly, Hugh moves to settle himself between your legs and smiles to himself when he looks down to see you wrap your legs around his waist. He places both of hands at either side of your head to keep himself propped up as he looks down at you, hair splayed against his white sheets, staring up at him with doe-like eyes, twinkling against the natural light that comes through his large windows.

He says your name quietly, leaning down slowly as his lips hover against yours. “I fear if we do this, there’s no going back.”

You nod in agreement and move your hands from the nape of his neck to cup his cheeks. “I’m okay with it. Are you?”

Hugh nods, turning his head to kiss the inside of your palm again. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I’m okay with it,” he repeats.

“Good because I’ve been wanting you since this morning and I think I’ve been a real good girl waiting so patiently for this,” you tease with a grin.

“A good girl, huh?” Hugh grins, his eyes darkening once more. “I wonder what good girls get.”

“A reward. Good girls get a reward.”

“Yeah, they do,” Hugh then leans in to press his lips against yours. He wastes no time in moving his lips, hands dropping to your hips. Hugh can’t help the feeling that weighs on his chest and the flutters in the pit of his stomach. He was open to dating and getting back out there after his divorce, but he didn’t think that it would happen anytime soon. He enjoys your company, enjoys the fact that you make him laugh, enjoys the way you look at him and the way you make him feel.

You move your hands to his hair, tangling your fingers in his dark locks as he deepens the kiss even further. You part your lips, letting out a quiet gasp when you feel his tongue slide into your mouth. You buck your hips against him, feeling him press himself firmly against your core. He grunts against your lips and it reverberates in his chest, causing it to come out as a quiet growl.

Hugh moves his hands underneath your shirt, letting his hands move upwards along your sides until he realizes that you weren’t wearing a bra. He feels the center of his sweatpants get increasingly tighter and uncomfortable the more he kisses you paired with the movements of your hips.

“You’re tellin’ me,” he mumbles, pulling back slightly to nip at your lower lip and move his lips along your jawline. “That the entire time we were eating and laughing downstairs that you weren’t wearing a bra?” Hugh’s large hands come up to cover both of your breasts underneath your shirt as he pushes his hips into you. He drags his tongue along the side of your neck, your moans and whimpers directly in his ear.

“I told you I was comfy,” you moan, feeling the pads of his thumbs brush against your nipples. “Hugh…” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the sensations of his hands, his lips, and his hardened length pressing against you becomes too much. It’s everything all at once and you try to tell yourself to take your time, to let him set the pace, but you just want to roll him over on his back and ride him like your entire life depended on it.

“I know, baby,” he whispers, gently biting down the side of your neck and sucking on it afterwards. Hugh pulls back to look at the mark slowly appearing and he grins to himself. He isn’t usually the type of person to leave any marks, but for some reason, it excites him to know that you’ll be walking around the next few days with a reminder of today. And it’s all because of him.

Hugh leans back on his knees and grabs the ends of your shirt to lift over your head. You raise your arms above to allow him to remove your shirt and once he does, he tosses it carelessly over his shoulder as he sees your chest fully exposed for him.

“Fuck,” he groans. Like a man possessed, Hugh leans down and grasps your breasts in both hands. He growls to himself and leans down to wrap his lips around one nipple, feeling it harden between his lips as he sucks. He uses his other hand to caress your unattended breast and you immediately arch your back in the air, pushing your breasts further into his face.

“Hugh,” you moan, biting your lower lip as you feel the wetness begin to build between your legs. You need some friction, you need some pressure because you’re throbbing and squeezing around nothing yet you can feel his hardened manhood right where you need him. “I need to feel you, please…”

Hugh looks up at you and then turns his attention to the other breast, gently nipping so that he can pay equal attention to them. A few moments pass before he pulls back to lift his own shirt over his head.

You let out a quiet gasp, looking up at him. You’ve seen pictures of him and you know that his physique isn’t something that he hides, but seeing it up close, within arms reach, it does something to you. You reach out and run your fingertips along his abdomen to his chest and back down. A blush appears along your neck and up to your cheeks as you gently tug on the waistband of his sweatpants.

“God, you are beautiful,” you blurt out. You stare into his eyes and you both let out a quiet chuckle.

“Me?” he says, taking your hands and kissing your knuckles before he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants. Slowly, Hugh pulls your pants and your panties off your body, once more tossing the clothing across the room. You’re lying back, completely naked and exposed for him. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he finally says. Normally, you’d be very self-conscious about how you look, especially naked in front of Hugh Jackman, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel comfortable and confident. He’s truly looking at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen before.

Then, Hugh drags his hand down the front of your chest, down to your abdomen, until it hovers between your legs. He gently parts your legs even further, giving him a clear view of your folds that glisten against the natural light. Hugh then lets his index finger run across your slit, groaning to himself when he feels your wetness coat him. He looks up at you briefly, seeing your eyes fall shut as your hands reach out to grasp the sheets.

He smirks proudly to himself and leans over you, peppering kisses along your neck and chest and back up as he slowly slides his finger past your folds and into your hole. Hugh groans against you, feeling just how tight you feel around one finger and it excites him to know just how good it’d feel when he finally pushes his cock into you. To relieve some pressure, he uses his free hand to push down his pants and boxers, letting out a groan of relief as his cock finally springs free from its confines.

You don’t open your eyes though, still too focused on the way his finger slowly moves in and out of your depths. You’re so wet, so warm, so tight that Hugh tries to take it slow. He then adds another finger, watching as your eyes slightly open at the second intrusion. You feel your walls stretch at his second finger and you finally look down, eyes widening even further at the sight of his length. He’s red at the tip, leaking, and throbbing. It makes your mouth water at the sight because all you want to do is drop down onto your knees and take him into your mouth. Maybe next time, you tell yourself.

His fingers begin to move at a faster pace, the sounds of squelching echoing throughout his large bedroom. Hugh rests his forehead against yours, turning his hand so that he can rub your clit with the pad of his thumb. He knows you’re close, knows that your body is going to give way to him. He can feel you begin to tremble and he smiles.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers against your lips. “I can feel you’re close, baby. Don’t hold back. Let go for me.” His voice is much deeper and you can’t help but nod in his direction, your arms reaching out to wrap around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as your back arches in the air.

“Hugh!” His name escapes your lips with a loud moan, feeling your body shake as you try to ride out your climax. He doesn’t let up though, still continuing to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace. He watches you, watches as you shut your eyes tight, mouth slightly agape, back arched as you tighten around his fingers – it’s something that Hugh will forever remember. He can feel your walls throbbing and he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, looking down at your slickness and slowly bringing it to his lips. Then, he sucks.

Your eyes open to watch him. He’s staring at you as he licks his fingers clean of your release and it’s so dirty, so hot, that you grab his shoulders and push him onto his back. He kicks off his pants and boxers as his cock rests against his lower abdomen, throbbing painfully and impatiently.

“You taste fuckin’ good, baby.” Hugh smirks. “Can’t wait to eat you up later.”

You bite your lower lip and slowly straddle his lap as your eyes move across his face and down to the rest of his body. He’s so chiseled, so muscular. Your eyes deviate further down, seeing the patch of hair between his legs and then his cock. You bring your hand to your mouth and quietly spit into the pit of your palm before reaching down to slowly wrap your hand around his base, feeling the weight and warmth of it in your hand. Then, you tighten your grip and begin to pump your hand up and down. His eyes flutter at the sensation, continuous groans escaping his lips.

He says your name in a quiet moan as you continue to move your hand along his base. Your movements begin to speed up before Hugh’s hand darts out to grab your wrist, making you cease movements altogether.

“You keep that up and I’m not gonna last long,” Hugh admits.

You narrow your eyes and use your thumb to run across the tip of his cock, his precum spreading over it as you hear him let out another moan. You smile to yourself and bring your thumb to your mouth, seeing it slick with his precum before you lean in and suck, your tongue darting out to wipe it from your thumb.

“Mm, you taste good too. I also can’t wait to get down on my knees and just devour you, Hugh.” That earns you a growl as he gently lifts you so that he can grab his cock in his hand to line his tip between your folds.

“You’re naughty,” he smirks. “I like it.” Hugh moves his free hand to your hip and slowly lowers you down onto him. The tip of his cock enters you and he tries so hard not to just ram up into you because he wants more, needs more. He feels your hands rest on his chest and he flexes subconsciously as you slowly begin to lower yourself further onto his cock. Inch by inch, you feel an almost painful stretch of his cock because you know that you’re tight and you know for sure that you haven’t had anyone as big as Hugh.

“Fuck,” he grunts, moving his hands onto your hips as you continue to lower yourself onto him until he fills you to the hilt. You’re so tight and warm and wet around him that Hugh just knows he isn’t going to last long.

You take a moment to get used to his girth and his length. In this position, you feel him so deep within your depths. You’re so full of him and you find that you can just stay here for the rest of your days. Hugh’s eyes begin to flutter shut as you roll your hips forwards and backwards, your hands still resting on his chest. The hair at his base provides the perfect friction against your clit and you feel the tightness in the pit of your stomach begin to grow more and more prominent.

“Hugh, oh god,” you moan aloud, continuing your movements before you begin to bounce along his length.

Hugh growls, hands gripping your hips as his fingertips dig into your skin. He knows that’s going to leave a mark later, but he can’t help the sensation. Your walls are gripping him in a tight vice as you move along him, your walls sliding along his cock.

“You feel amazing,” he begins, lifting his hips slowly to meet yours. Hugh groans, holding you up just slightly to give himself room to begin to thrust upwards into you. Hugh’s thrusts quicken as he watches your breasts bounce with each movement. You toss your head back as you reach back to rest your hands on his thighs and Hugh’s gaze drops down as he watches himself move in and out of your depths. He can see his cock is slick with your wetness, allowing for him to move easily within your folds.

“Oh god, oh god,” you moan, beginning to lose your resolve. You lean forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, your chest flushed against his, face buried against the side of his neck as Hugh’s thrusts become more erratic, more rough and the sound of skin slapping against one another echoes loudly through his room.

“Come for me, love,” he whispers into your ear. “I know you can gimme another.”

It was all you needed to slam yourself down onto him, shaking against him as your walls tighten even further around him. Hugh has to stop himself from thrusting because he knows that if he were to continue, he’d lose it too and he wants to be on top when he does.

You’re both breathing heavily when Hugh slowly rolls you onto your back. He leans down to peck your lips lightly, hands moving to brush your hair away from your face. Then, Hugh moves his hips against you. He pulls back to his tip before he slams himself back into you.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he whispers, seeing as your eyes begin to flutter shut. You’re already so sensitive and you don’t know if you can last any longer, but staring deeply into Hugh’s eyes as his thrusts continue forces you to hold out. You know that if you reach another orgasm that you’d be spent for the rest of the day and you’re sure Hugh knows it too.

“Hugh,” you moan, legs wrapped loosely around his hips as he continues to thrust into you. “You feel…” your arms wrap around his shoulders as nails dig into his skin. “You feel so good.”

Hugh smirks at that and gently kisses the tip of your nose as hands drop to your hips to hold you steady against the bed. “You feel so good too, baby.” Then, Hugh feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach and he knows he’s close. His thrusts become more sloppy and his mouth is slightly agape as both of your moans mix in with one another.

“I’m close,” he mumbles. “Where–”

“Inside,” you reassure him. “On the pill.”

“Are you– Fuck,” Hugh growls. “Are you sure?”

“Come in me, Hugh.” You answer, letting out a loud moan as his thrusts continue to get more rough. He reaches down and rubs his thumb against your clit. Suddenly, you’re so very aware that you’re about to reach yet another orgasm and Hugh’s eyes stare into yours. This is your first time having sex with him and yet, it seems like he already knows so much about what gets you there.

“Oh, Hugh… Hugh!” you exclaim, back arching as your eyes shut and your walls tighten once more around his length.

Hugh groans and thrusts once more before he releases himself inside of you. He buries his face against the side of your neck, lazily nipping at your skin as you throb around him. Hugh then looks up at you and smiles, seeing you return one of your own.

“I’m spent,” you chuckle.

Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and pecks your lips lightly. “Three times, huh?”

“Three times. That’s a first.”

Hugh grins proudly. “That was amazing, love.” Slowly, he pulls out of you and you both let out a quiet whimper. When he pulls out of you completely, you suddenly feel less whole, less filled. He lies back next to you and pulls you into his arms, noticing the mark along your neck and the marks of his fingertips on your hips.

“I think I made a few marks and bruises,” Hugh says.

You arch a brow and then slowly begin to smile. You point to his shoulders and his back as you lean up to peck his lips. “I think I did too.”

Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and shuts his eyes, feeling you snuggle further into his side. He can get used to this. He feels like you belong here with him.

“So,” he begins. “Stay the night?”

You look up at him and smile, leaning up on your elbow to kiss his chin. You see his eyes open to look down at you, staring at you with soft eyes. “Oh, after that? I’m definitely staying the night.”

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1 - @wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf - @needz1nk

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #story: training partners #real person fanfiction #real person fanfic

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cherubfae · 3 months ago

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"𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔢𝔱" || {𝔩𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔡𝔶}

tags: nsfw, smut, afab reader, rough and risky sex, biting, outdoor/public sex, sometimes you're too pent up to worry about the world going to shit, RE4 leon, he's a bit mean oop, praise/slight degradation, dacryphilia, creampie, established relationships, aftercare

"Quiet. Do you want someone to hear how loud you're being for me, baby?"

Leon growled the words into your ears, teeth nipping at the sensitive cartilage. He relishes your sweet moan. The soft leather of his fingerless gloves is smooth against your lips, his fingertips pressed into your cheeks, and forced you to swallow back your eager cries. His breath hung in the air, the chill of autumn seeped into both of your bones, pebbling your nipples and left you thrumming in need for his heat.

Honestly, you wouldn't be able to hear yourself over the sounds of his skin harshly slapping against yours even without his hand covering your mouth. Too focused on drawing out sweet grunts and soft sighs from his lips. You hadn't realized how loud you were. The strength and force of his hips is enough to keep you pinned to the rough terrain below. It was easy to turn your mind off and give in to Leon completely, even when you two didn't have time to make love. You were too pent up to think of anything else but each other.

The very second your tongue slid against his, Leon had his hand shoved down the front of your shorts and yanked your underwear aside, far too eager to stretch you out on his fingers. It had been a rush of clothes being moved out of the way, wiggling out of them just enough to have access to your most sensitive parts.

"I asked you a question, baby. Or are you too fucked out to answer your boyfriend properly?" His dick speared itself inside of you, punctuating his sentence with a harsh thrust. Tilting your chin back up to look at him, his steely blue eyes soften around the edges a little at your tears. His calloused fingers wipe them away, the pads rough against your soft skin.

He swallowed down your tiny whimpers and watery moans with a kiss. Panting into his mouth, you reach back as best you can with the awkward angle to cup his jaw; faint stubble prickled your hand. Your ass rippled with every deep thrust, faintly able to see his soaked cock as he pulled out and pushed back in, unable to think of anything but him-- to feel only him.

Whining, you gasped for air between kisses. "L...Leon..!, it's t-too much!" Inhaling sharply, he pulled you up briefly by your arms before pushing your cheek back to the frosty ground. He growled softly, thumbing at your nipples through your shirt. There would be a time and place later to make love properly. With a long journey ahead, it would be too risky until you two made it to your neck check point.

Ever thankful for the shadowed forest hiding your bodies, you slammed yourself back on him letting out a muffled laugh as his hand returned to your face, slipping his fingers into your mouth. Sucking eagerly, your tongue ran back and forth across them until they were nice and wet. Those same fingers swept across your folds and his weepy tip as he pulled out; pushing back inside with a shuddering gasp.

"You can take it. I know you can, baby." Leon purred, nuzzling at your throat. One arm barred across your tummy and lifted your hips up, your cheek coming to rest into the sparse, dead grass. "Remember your safe word?" You nod and he smiled. "Good. That's my sweet, baby."

Muscles flexing, Leon began to snap into you at a rapid pace. By this point you weren't capable of keeping yourself upright anymore, not with Leon basically rearranging your guts, each drive of his cock into your gummy walls had you shaking.

"I'm close. Count." Leon grunted, gritting his teeth as he neared his release. Switching to splay his hand across your stomach, he kept your lower half raised, his other hand snaking between you to find your clit. Leaning back briefly, he moved his shirt out of the way and clenched the hem between his teeth as he balls pounded against your ass. He immediately resumed his hunt and found your clit hidden between soft, damp curls. He made a muffled triumphant noise behind you.

"One...!" You yelp and squeezed your eyes shut. His tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, drawing out lewd, wet noises that mixed with Leon's borderline feral growls. His fingers toying with your clit has your already numb mind going hypersensitive. You aren't quite sure where he ends and you begin; in this moment, you are one entity.

Leon let out a pleased growl, baring all of his weight down onto you, and pressing you completely to the ground. He effectively trapped his own hand between your quivering legs and greedy pussy, still rapidly circling your clit in quick, needy movements. Your poor cunt stretches far too wide on his thick girth, fluttering around him

"T-two!" Another snap of his hips against your ass has you clawing your nails into the coarse dirt, raking through it with your fingers to find any semblance of support. Sharp rocks dig into your soft skin, adding a pleasant sort of pain to combat the mind-numbing pleasure. You were going to be beyond sore but fuck if you didn't love when Leon became desperately unhinged.

Before you can count to three, you inhale sharply as white clouds your vision before ebbing off, not quite coming yet. You were so damned close. It's as though your breath was stolen straight from your lungs as Leon's hand curled around your throat, holding you firmly and applied a gentle pressure. You crane your neck back uncomfortably, your breath stuttering softly.

Sweat collected at his roots, the hem of his shirt, still gripped tightly between his teeth, was damp with his own saliva. His nose was crinkled and his furrowed brow cinched at the middle in sheer, animalistic focus. His wild gaze shifts to you only softens a little when he sees you looking at him. The man you love dearly, who loved you even more, showing through the cracks of his tough persona. The one you had met when Raccoon City fell.

The sudden sweetness in his blue eyes was enough. Out of pure bliss and love for him you came with a adoring cry of his name. It was beautiful to watch him slacken. The pleasure of your orgasm tightened around him, his eyes fluttering, and lips eased open; his shirt slipping from his mouth only slightly. A subtle blush streaked across his cheeks and down his neck.

Blood rushed in your ears, your vision spotty. Leon wasn't too far behind. His breathing had grown labored, uneven, and he'd completely forgotten to make you count in favor of catching up with you and filling your pussy with him entirely. A final snap had Leon pinning you tight to the ground as he came with a muffled roar.

Slowly coming down from your highs, you're hardly aware that you're being moved to sit upright. Warmth envelops your cheeks and makes you open your eyes-- you couldn't recall when you'd closed them. Leon smiled at you, stroking your cheeks gently. He pressed a canteen to your lips and had to take slow sips of cool water. You sighed as it quenches the dryness of your throat.

"You still with me, pretty?" Leon chuckled gently, carefully easing you into his lap. You were definitely sore and you were gonna have bruises, but you felt as though you were floating, far too high on cloud nine. Meekly, you nod and gave a small, tired smile. Leon mirrored it, gently cleaning you with a damp cloth and helped you dress.

For the next leg of your journey, Leon opts to carry you for a while and to give you time to rest and rejuvenate.

"Was I too rough?" Leon whispered and ducked under some low-hanging branches, taking the opportunity to nuzzle his cheek against yours.

You smile and shake your head. "You were perfect as always." Leaning up, you two share a soft kiss.

"Sorry about the soreness. I'll make it up to you. Promise." Leon smiled sheepishly, now acting as though he hated that he just fucked your brains out. You laughed softly.

"You're forgiven." You rubbed your nose along his neck. "Just means as soon as possible, you're getting payback."

Leon swallowed thickly, his mind already running wild with the possibilities. He kissed your head.

"Good. I can't wait."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

#resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #cherubfae 2024

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Note

Imagine being in a room along with this man🫠🥵

Yes, lovely! Let's imagine that, shall we?

Lockdown

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're stuck in a room with Bucky and he's more than thrilled about it. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Longing, tension, teasing, dirty thoughts, Bucky is down bad for you, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A small blurb. Maybe it'll turn into something more. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Brilliant, Barnes. Was it your intention to break the door handle or are you just not on your game today?”

Bucky counted to three in his head before he swung around to face you, exasperation written all over his face as he dropped the ruined handle to the ground. It didn’t seem to phase you since you flashed him a beautiful smile, one that made you appear more innocent than he liked to believe you were. He wondered how that lipstick would look smeared from your cheeks and chin. And along his cock.

Fuck, we wanted to ruin you.

“Can you go two minutes without busting my balls?”

You returned his grumpy stare with a flirty smirk. Not once in the time that he knew you had you shown any sort of fear toward him. You treated him like a person. That included you bouncing back and forth between flirting with him and giving him shit, which he gladly gave you in return.

The fact that you could dish it out and take it just as well made him respect the hell out of you.

He wondered just what else you could take.

“Sure. Two minutes. You can time me,” you shrugged, holding up your hand to inspect one of your nails. “And when those two minutes are up, then what? We wait for backup or try to figure out a way out? Because I have a dinner date tonight and I don’t want to be late.”

He ignored the surge of jealousy that shot through his veins. When he asked about your plans for tonight, you answered “meeting a friend for dinner” and refused to elaborate further. He had a feeling it was something more and you just said “date”. A fucking date. It drove him mad because you never once mentioned seeing anyone and you sure as fuck didn’t act tied down.

But if you’d let him tie you down…

“You may need to reschedule that dinner,” he smirked before he could let his imagination run wild, watching as the smile slipped from your lips. “Because the only way out is through that door and backup won’t be here until tomorrow morning.”

Your fists clenched as you got to your feet. Did you know your dress had ridden up your thighs a bit? Were you teasing him? “And you broke the fucking handle.”

“I sure did,” he shrugged when your nostrils flared. “Oops.”

He tried to tamper down his excitement as he leaned his back against the closest wall and observed you, but he couldn’t help himself. He had you all to himself for a short while. Maybe during that time he could convince you why you should be with him and not some random dinner date.

Sure he could. He had charm and could be persuasive when the occasion called for it. He’d treat you like a goddess if you let him.

You were his mission and he was more than happy to complete it.

“Better get comfortable, sweetheart,” he smiled before you could argue. “You’re stuck with me tonight.”

What do we think? Should we have more? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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astrasng · 5 months ago

Text

Little high on you || N.J

MINORS DNI!

pairing: idol!dom!jaemin x female!reader

summary: you and jaemin are old friends, spending the summer in a beach house under the influence. what could go wrong?

warnings: drugs and alcohol, handjob, oraljob, unprotected sex, thigh fucking (pls burry me) smoking and drinking, cursing,petnames (angel,baby,sweet girl,slut -oops) actually jaemin is kind of a switch here ^^

author's note: this has been sitting in my drafts for EVVAAA and i'm currently in my jaemin era again and APPARENTLY there are very little number of jaemin fics. (sad) so ig we're finally starting the jaemin list.

enjoy!

Jaemin was a sweet guy. You knew him for a long time now, years in fact. He was always polite to you and your family whenever he and the other members visited for holidays. His and your family often sat down together to chat about the two of you, and sometimes your family even invited his members to your beach house when the weather was nice. It was a good place to throw parties too.It would excite you every time just to think about being close to Jaemin again. You liked his company, and so did he like yours too.

So this is how you ended up in the same beach house on a hot dry summer day, wearing only your shorts and a flimsy tank top with a bikini under it. You were always comfortable around Jaemin and his friends, so you didn’t care about how you dressed. And the same goes to him too. He would occasionally take his shirt off if it was too hot, or wipe his forehead with his shirt when playing soccer with his friends. Your eyes couldn't help but wonder on his wide shoulders, the way he would laugh at his friends and then his abs would flex as he did so. It makes you bite your lip just at the thought.

But it happened the other way too. It took Jaemin so much not to pull you away from the others whenever you would push your cleavage together by accident when talking to someone as you bend over the kitchen island, or when you’d get out of the jacuzzi, the water sliding down on your body slowly, which drove him even crazier. His eyes would linger a little longer on your body when you decide to wear a slim dress on your night out. It drove him mad that he couldn’t get his hands on you in public, in front of everyone. He wanted to let everyone know that you were his, even if you weren’t even dating. Because when someone approaches you with a flirty demeanor, his blood boils.

The same happened tonight too, as you were rolling the wrapping papers together with Jeno sitting by your side on the couch, laughing as he would tell you stories about their tours. This wasn’t the problem, because Jaemin knows his best friend, and he knows you, but when he noticed Jeno being flirty after a few beers, he started being suspicious. You wouldn’t notice of course, because you liked his members so much and you wanted to have a good friendship with everyone. You would let his flirty interactions slip away and laugh due to the weed in your system. By the time you two finish wrapping the joints, Jeno lazily leans back on the couch and swings his arm around your shoulder. This makes you laugh as you light your cigarette. You are not thinking too much into this, considering that everyone is having a good time as the music in the house is blasting. As you inhale the joint deeper in your lungs, you sense Jeno moving on the couch.

“Wanna share it with me?” Jeno whispers, his mouth ghosting over your ear and it makes you chuckle. You turn your head in his way and see him already looking down at your lips. When you lift the joint to his lips, he shakes his head, motioning towards your lips when you blow out the smoke. You let out a smirk and take another puff, ready to shotgun it into Jeno’s mouth when suddenly someone pulls him up.

“Think I heard Mark calling for you in the kitchen. He was mixing some shit you asked for.” Jaemin looks down at the both of you, his eyes narrowing when he sees your state. Jeno jumps up and runs into the kitchen, leaving you two alone. Jaemin extends his hand towards you to take it, pulling you up softly from the couch.His hand slides softly around your waist, feeling him squeezing the flesh a few times as he walks towards the room he claimed when the whole group arrived in the house, pulling you softly inside. When he closes the door and turns around, he finds you already sitting on the couch with the joint in your hand.

You tilt your head to the side, looking up at him. You can clearly sense the tension in the air as you see his veins popping out on his neck. “Wanna join me?”

“Is this necessary? Is alcohol not enough?” He asks, his eyes glued on yours.

“Don’t judge until you don’t try it.” You giggle, your eyes trying to stay focused on Jaemin’s face as his dark hair decorates it. He thinks about it for a second, then plops down next to you. The weed wasn’t the problem for him, he wasn’t a judgy person to start with. The only thing that was bugging him, is that whenever you did something like that he was right next to you, keeping an eye on you just in case, but you didn’t even see him sometimes.

His arms automatically slide on the back of the couch, somewhat caging you in. “Fine.” He goes in for the joint but you stop him midway. When he looks at you with confusion, you shake your head.

You smirk before climbing on his lap, leaning him back as you plant your hands on his chest. You inhale once again, your fingers grabbing his chin to signal him to open his mouth slightly. When he opens his mouth, you lean closer to him, your mouth almost touching his as you blow the smoke into his.

Jaemin keeps his eyes on you the whole time, hands on your waist as you try not to squirm on his lap. The atmosphere went into a fuzzy, slow feeling. You had just entered the room with him, but you already feel like it’s filled up with smoke around the two of you. Your body is all hot, almost feeling his fingertips melt into your skin to your bones, Jaemin’s thin clothes keeping nothing from your eyes as you can see his body glistening from the hot weather. A smirk tickles the side of your mouth when you see Jaemin’s eyes searching for yours, his gaze softened but still sensual from being this close to you.

“I’m gonna explode if I can’t feel your lips, Y/N. I have been wanting to know how you taste for so long.” He can’t help but confess, his big dark eyes staring up at you as you softly wipe his hair back, making him lay his head on the back of the couch. Your hips ever so lightly grazing his lap to tease him more, getting him riled up.

“Is that so?” You hum, twisting the end of his hair slightly, taking another hit with your other hand. As you busy yourself, Jaemin softly inches closer to your exposed chest area, his lips pressing light and slow kisses on your flushed skin. He leaves a few red and big bruises ühere and there, licking at sucking at the soft flesh as he squeezes your body closer to his chest. You look down at him, your hand that was previously in his hair slides down to his chin, tilting it up again to share the intoxicating feeling. He gladly accepts, letting you press your lips to his, but not yet kissing him.

“Then I shouldn’t keep you waiting, hmm?” You whisper in his ear, pressing a light kiss after as you hear him groan slightly when you finally sit down on his very visible tent in his pants. You almost let yourself moan out his name when the fricktion finally reaches you, but you quickly attach your pink lips to his neck. Slowly, in circular motion you kiss at his collarbone, all the way up to his jawline.

“Are you teasing me now?”

He practically groans out, his hands keeping you close to him, his own body warmth radiating and keeping you warm. It makes you giggle as the words leave his mouth. “I enjoy hearing how desperate you are Nana~” You whisper in his ear again, biting down on his earlobe slightly. He feels like he should end this before he comes in his pants, but then the irresistible feeling catches up to him, and cloud fogs his mind slowly.

“Don’t worry,tonight, you’ll have me however you want me.”

-------------------

And Jaemin does have you, in every way he wants you. He has you where he imagined. Finally without those not so clothes-worthy clothing laying around on the ground as he lazily strokes your legs back and forth, his tongue sliding around your hardened nipples when he ever so lightly grazes his teeth on it. Hazy and glossy eyes staring at him when his slender fingers are ghosting your skin on your stomach, slowly inching to your heat where you need the most friction. It’s funny how desperate he was a few minutes earlier, almost begging you to kiss him finally,and now here you are, spread on the bed he slept the previous night. Jaemin himself drives you crazy, with his eyes and presence, making you feel all too small and not worthy to be on the planet with him, but when he laid you down on the white sheets which were swimming in his cologne, you knew you could finally kiss goodbye to your friendship with him. Jaemin knew it too, the minute you took off your clothes teasingly, keeping your eyes only on him when you undid the back of your bikini.

It was a miracle he didn’t come just from the sight, watching your body press against his as you sat back on him before he took you to bed.

His breathing is labored as he kisses your whole body. “I can’t get enough of you,doll.” He says, his words muffled as he can’t seem to detach from your skin. “Let me have you all night.”

“Please, Jaemin~” You whimper, feeling his fingers part your wet lips apart, his finger due to the slickness slides in easily inside your warm walls, making him groan out the minute as he can feel himself getting hard from the feeling. He’s been imagining how you’d taste on his tongue as he eats you out everywhere in his apartment. It didn’t matter to him, he just wanted to have you in any way possible.

“I finally have you, angel. I don’t intend on letting you go now.” He presses a kiss on your stomach, lowering himself down as he whispers against your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll give everything to you.”

He can’t get enough of you, he thinks. It’s like something turned on inside of him, like someone spread glue on his hands, he never leaves your body as he softly kisses your aching core. You can’t help but whine, the feeling of his tongue on your pussy practically almost sending you into another universe.

“Pull your panties to the side for me, baby.” Jaemin whispers as he stands up, his hands gripping your plush thighs together, your ankles dangling on his shoulders, feeling his muscles flexing while composing himself. Jaemin tries so hard not to lose control, even in a state like this, when everything around him is happening in slow motion. The feeling helps him act more ‘natural’ around you, almost forgetting the situation you two are in.

You’re not his,and he’s not yours.

But does it really matter when the man in front of you spreads your pussy lips apart, keeping his eyes on you, watching every reaction you let out? A shiver goes over your body under his stare, his eyes more narrow than ever. “Are you feeling good, baby?”

All you do is nod and whine a little, trying to squirm away from his touch.

“Will you let me have you? Hmm?” He stares down at you, his fingers circling around your puffy clit while his other hand is holding you down, slightly pressing down on your lower stomach. His voice already almost made you come, just the pure vibration you feel even though your thighs as he squeezes them close to his clothed chest. Clothed chest. Why are you the only one naked?

“Answer me.”

“Yes! Please Jaemin, do something..” With a sigh you throw your head back, your body still fighting against his strength as his fingers are teasing your tight entrance once again. You couldn’t help but shudder again.

And then he pushed one finger inside, instantly finding your g-spot. “Are you going to let Jeno fuck you too?” He asks, his voice an octave lower, his skin glowing in the humid room. You want to shake your head at his pathetic question, but he slips another finger inside you. “Answer.”

“Jaemin–” You’re only able to moan out his name, your hands squeezing the sheets around you.

“Yeah baby, that’s me. Moan it louder for everyone” With his thumb he circles around your clit with force, the veins on his arms bulging out from keeping you in place. “Moan it so he can hear it too.” His voice is low,barely audible from your constand moans, but you oblige. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your back arching unconsciously as you near your climax.

“Jaemin~~ I- I think I’m gonna-” As you whimper, Jaemin cuts you off by taking his fingers out, leaving you breathless as you blink up at him. “Take your panties off, angel.” He adds as he reaches for his shirt, pulling it over his head as he reveals his honey toned skin, his muscles glowing in slight sweat. When he notices that you took your panties off as he takes your thighs once again, and positions it on his shoulders on one side. The only things you can do is groan, your legs already numb from being up for so long.

“Good girl.” Jaemin groans out when he sees your glistening pussy, all waiting for him to be stretched. But he takes a big breath and unzips his pants, taking his leaking cock out. Your eyes almost fall out of their places when you see him for the first time. “Do you see this baby?” He taps it on the side of your thighs for you to see, making you whimper. “It’s all because of you. All wet and hard, just because you’re acting like a slut in front of everyone.” He hisses, dragging his tip all over the back of your thighs, the grip getting stronger. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“Yes!” You whimper again, craving for the feeling of him being inside you. You wanted this for so long, whenever you saw him in suits for galas or any kind of shows you wanted to throw yourself on him. He drove you crazy just as much as you did. But not in your wildest dream would you think that he would be the one being in control. Finally seeing him without clothes and his cock nearing your aching core, you let out another pathetic whine. “I deserve it…”

“Do you now?” With a smooth caress on your left thigh, he tilts his head to the side, humming before speaking up. “Let me see you touch yourself, pretty.”

His voice makes you bite your lip, your hand sliding all the way down to your clit, massaging it with need and lust. You immediately throw your head back at the sensation, the temperature inside the room almost hitting unbearable as your moans fill the room along with Jaemin’s groans. “That’s it…you look so pretty like this.”

With a shaky breath you continue working on your clit when you feel a sudden pressure on your thighs. Between your thighs.

You find Jaemin pushing his cock between your plush thighs, his eyebrows knitted together as he slowly pushes through the gap he created, muttering a low – “Fuck..” His grip on you tightens even more as slowly fucks his cock head in and out – leaving you breathless and almost forgetting your own task. The sensation of feeling his cock between your thighs, skin to skin, leaving trails of precum on your flushed red skin.

Suddenly, you feel his hand grabbing yours as he drags them down to your entrance slowly, his smirk only growing when he hears you cry out already knowing what he’s about to do. “Put them inside, baby. Or should I do it for you? Hmm?” He breathes, chuckling when you shake your head heavily, slowly pushing one finger inside.

“It’s not as good as yours..” You can’t help but mutter out, shutting your eyelids in shame, feeling your cheeks blooming in red color when he coos at you. “Aw, my baby can’t even pleasure themselves?” He thrust again while his fingers slowly guided another of your fingers inside you, stretching you out as you moaned uncontrollably. “See? It’s not so hard, is it?” As you only can think about him fucking your thighs as your fingers inside you, he sneakily pushed one of his fingers in your hole, making your almost scream from the stretch. “Nana–” With a whimper you warn Jaemin before your climax finally reaches you, the feeling unfolding in your stomach in waves, making you arch your back with a loud moan as you come around your and Jaemin’s fingers. You can hear him chuckle lowly as you keep massaging your clit while coming down from your high,

“There you go…you take it so well baby, don’t give up now.” With a groan he thrust inside your thighs one last time, seeing his tip leaking from precum, red and puffy as he kept himself back from actually coming. When he pulls back finally, he squats down to be eye level with your pussy coated in your arousal, making him groan out from the sight. “Baby,you did so well.” He smiles up at you, his big eyes filled with lust as he inches closer to your core. “Can I have a taste?”

He latches on your tight hole, tasting you on his tongue without waiting for an answer. Jaemin nearly comes from the taste, his hands gripping your sticky thighs so you can’t jump away from overstimulation.

“Jaem, it’s too – nghh..-- too much..”

“Just give me one more, I know you can do it.” His words are muffled due to him lapping at your juices like a starved man, moaning and groaning at your taste. The vibrations only bring you closer to your climax, until you reach it for the second time tonight. You feel like your whole body is going to blow up in any second as Jaemin continuously slurps up your arousal, not wasting one drop. When he’s finally satisfied with himself, he comes up, his lips shining with cum as he manhandles your legs to be on the side of his bed. Your whole body is situated sideways as he comes down closer to your lips, immediately melting his lips together with yours after waiting for so long. As you can taste yourself oh his lips and tongue, you let out another groan, your hand sneaking into his hair to tug on it. With lust filled eyes and an innocent smile, he looks at you;

“How about I make you fall apart on my cock, yeah?”

—------------

“Shh, it’s okay baby. I’m in…relax for me.” Jaemin groans beside you in your ear, his left arm keeping his body up so he can see your face and body, his cock disappearing inside your cunt. Your walls clamp down on him uncontrollably since he pushed his tip in, the delicious stretch making your eyes water as you squeeze the sheets in your hands. Jaemin is positioned behind you, one of his arms circled around your waist so he can reach your breast, flicking your nipples from time to time.

“Shit– why do you have to be so tight?” With a groan he pulls all the way out, slowly pushing himself back until he hits your cervix, making you arch your back.

With now all of the clothes gone from both of you, you can feel him everywhere perfectly. His sweat slightly touches your back as moves rapidly behind you. His arms bulging with veins as he aligns your head in a way he can deepen the kiss. His hair sticking to his forehead, just so you can swipe it out of his face. And him moving inside of you so freely, promising that he would pull out just in time. But both of you know that it’s a lie.

The simple thought of Jaemin filling you up with him cum makes you go crazy, imagining how it would drip out of you because of how much he came. He’d like to see that view too.

“I pictured this all the time.” He confesses, his hips moving with more force and quicker than before. As your whines get louder and louder he sneaks his hand up to your throat, caressing the skin there as he kisses the side of it. “Quiet down angel, unless you really want the world know who’s fucking you just right.” He groans again, feeling your warm walls squeezing him incredibly tight like you don't want to let him go.

You moaned as he slammed inside you, his hand now spreading your cheeks apart and squeezing the flesh in his palm while groaning in your ear. His thrusts were powerful, hard and steady as he buried his cock deep within you. “Fuck– you’re so pretty like this – all wet and warm, letting me use you however I want.” With another thrust you moan loudly, one of your hands flying back to bury your fingers in his hair.

“Come inside me, please — use me however you want–”

At your plea Jaemin lets out a moan, quickening his thrusts while leaving red bruises on your hips from squeezing them so much.

“Sweet girl, I’ll fill you up so everyone knows you’re mine,” He presses a kiss on your earlobe, then on the side of your neck. “Is that what you want?”

The question is obvious, but the way he’s asking it and waiting for you to answer, even though he knows you want it just as much as him. The way his cock hits the spot again and again brings him and you too on the edge, but Jaemin thinks of this as a priority – making you cum before him. So he takes his fingers and places it on your already abused clit, massaging it until he hears you constantly whimpering his name while tears are flowing down your cheeks.

“Say it, baby.”

“Yes! Fuck,! Yes I want you to fill me up Jaemin!” With a cry you come apart on his cock, pulsating around him as you nearly fall forwards on your elbows, your thighs shaking rapidly as you can’t seem to stop moaning. It’s the pushover for Jaemin too, hearing your cries and feeling you wrapped around him so nicely – only for him.

“Then it’s yours baby – all of it.” He moans beside your ear again, his finger still abusing your clit as he shoots ropes of his cum inside your warm walls, creating a creamy white ring at the base of his cock as it overflows. He takes a look down, smirking to himself as he gathers some on his finger which previously stimulated you — bringing it up to his mouth.

Your breath hitches as you see his eyes nearly roll back from the taste, feeling his cock slightly stirred awake again as he looks into your eyes.

“Don’t tell me–”

Jaemin pulls out with a hiss, feeling the temperature hitting his wet cock with a sudden wave as he positions himself to be on top of you entirely.

“As I said,” He grabs his cock by the base, swiftly tugging on it a few times before spreading your pussy lips apart again. “I don’t intend on letting you go now.”

Na Jaemin smirks with an innocent look before he makes you his all over again.

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