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acrosstheujiverse · 5 months ago

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Through the Years

【📂】 summary: it’s you and your husband's silver wedding anniversary. it's been 25 years since you've married kim mingyu and you’re filled with nostalgia as you reminisce back on how life has been in your sleep. 【🖇️】 pairing: husband!mingyu x wife!reader. 【💿】 genre: nostalgia and heartwarming. 【🧺】 tags: established relationship; memories; pregnancy; mentions of religion; one mention of "cheater"; married life. 【📦】 word count: 2.5k+

📬 — author’s note！this is inspired by a real story.

thank you for the overwhelmingly positive response to my headcannon post, dynamics of an introverted couple !! (check it out if you haven't).

i dedicate this to those who are raising children—we appreciate you. some of us (children) may be too afraid/shy/embarrassed to say this… but i’ll say it on behalf of them. from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all your effort, support, love, and sacrifices.

*i’ve included some easter eggs! ^^

(it was my birthday 2 days ago so i was motivated to give you a gift in the form of this story hehe~ happy reading! ٩( ᐛ )و*)

p.s. please pardon any grammatical error.

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after spending the evening at a restaurant downtown, you and your husband, mingyu, walk hand-in-hand into your dimly lit house.

“huh… i guess the kids must be in their rooms right now.” you said to your husband.

all of a sudden you both hear muffled sounds in your guys’ living room.

you and mingyu exchanged knowing looks at each other. “let’s not make them wait any longer, hon. let’s go.” mingyu whispered to you.

chuckling quietly, you nodded in agreement. “let’s go, my dear lord mingyu.”

he cheekily smiled, “right after you, lady (y/n).”

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“shhh! be quiet--i hear them!”

“hurry up, aji!”

“okay... in 3-2-1—!”

“SURPRISE!!!”

both you and mingyu feigned shock and surprise.

your three kids stood in the middle of the living room beaming with joy, feeling satisfied with their surprise celebration. ,. one was holding a cake, another was holding a handmade banner, with ‘you’re the best mom and dad ever!’ written on it, and the other one setting off a confetti wand.

“HAPPY 25TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY MOM AND DAD!!!”

you cooed at the sweet gesture from your kids.

“aww! thank you, my babies. your dad and i appreciate your efforts.”

mingyu initiated a family group hug. “thank you kids.”

giggling, all three of your kids said in unison, “you’re welcome mom and dad!”

you gave mingyu a side hug after everyone dispersed themselves. the two of you held a warm gaze into each other’s eyes. a sweet and loving smile never leaving both of your faces.

“happy anniversary again, love~”

“happy anniversary again, hon~”

you exchanged kisses.

both of you chuckled at the déjà vu of it all.

but you and mingyu don’t mind celebrating your wedding anniversary again because this time it’s with your whole family.

it was, indeed, a mirthful celebration.

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“goodnight, gyu.”

“goodnight, (y/n).”

as you lay in your shared bedroom, you begin to reminisce about the beginnings of you and mingyu’s relationship. you softly smiled as you slowly slipped into your dreams.

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“mom… (y/n) and i are going to be parents. (y/n)’s pregnant.”

you were both not ready to be parents. you were 23 and mingyu was 20.

you were in your last year of college, while he was in his second year.

you both were filled with limitless opportunities, but in the eyes of both your parents... it was a different story.

“KIM. MINGYU. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS??!”

mingyu’s mother was a religious woman, a devout believer of god, and an avid churchgoer.

born and raised in the countryside where everyone knew each other, both you and mingyu knew that you were going to be the talk of the town for… a while.

(with hindsight, it was only years later that you realized how your mother-in-law took the brunt of most of the gossip.)

although mingyu’s mother was strongly opposed to the pregnancy at first, she knew she could do nothing to change the fact that you were pregnant. you were relieved that she wasn’t like those cruel stepmothers portrayed in disney movies—definitely, not. she eventually warmed up to the situation at hand and guided the both of you during your pregnancy.

you and mingyu were set to be married a month before your first child's due date. yes, it was an outdated belief that both your families held back in the day, but it was what was considered acceptable at that time. you married early because of the pregnancy, but you had already decided long before you got pregnant that he was the one. mingyu was the one that's meant to be standing beside you at the altar and the one that you were going to grow old with.

the moment that truly changed mingyu’s mother’s heart was when aji was born. the moment she first laid eyes on your first born baby girl, her eyes were filled with love.

(she later told you that it was as if she was a first-time mother again.)

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to say that raising a child was hard would be a huge understatement.

you were blessed with three children.

the first born, aji, was the hardest to take care of because you both didn’t know what you were supposed to do. (both of your parents were there to guide you for the most part, but the rest of the work had to come from you and mingyu.) with aji, the both of you were overly protective.

the second child, chi, was less hard to take care of because now both of you had experience but it wasn’t easy. learning from all the mistakes and lessons from your first child, you and mingyu applied all the knowledge you had with chi, and for the most part all of your tactics worked. chi was a very sickly baby when she was born, and so you and your husband worked tirelessly to provide all the necessary medication that your baby needed. with chi, the both of you were protective.

the youngest, bo, was easier to take care of because you both learned valuable things from the last two. however… the skills and tricks you had learned from raising aji and chi wasn’t really working well with bo because… he was the only boy. so it was like being back to square one again. with bo, the both of you learned to be a little bit carefree.

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your husband was a man of many admirable qualities.

kim mingyu had a strong work ethic.

in the beginning of your guys’ marriage, he would work odd jobs, anything that would pay him. anything that would sustain your growing family.

when you were pregnant with your youngest, it was an unexpected pregnancy (it was déjà vu). you noticed the signs of pregnancy early and confirmed it with a test kit.

mingyu had a plan, you were skeptical at first but you eventually caved in. he would apply to work abroad and get a permanent residency. the work and money in your guys’ small town did not pay enough for a family of five, so mingyu looked for work outside of your country since they pay much more.

fortunately, he was there when you gave birth to bo and when he took his first steps.

it was only when bo was about two years old that mingyu left to go abroad.

you had worked on a video call schedule with him so that you and the children would have communication with him. he’d send a few pictures and videos of his life abroad… but it didn’t fill the feeling of longingness for him in your heart. you missed him so much.

raising all three of your children without your husband by your side took a toll on your mental and physical wellbeing. the first year without mingyu was the hardest for you, but you eventually got back on your feet thanks to the support you had from your friends, and his and your family. you knew you had to be strong not only for your husband and children, but also for yourself.

and you maintained your unwavering commitment to being a great mother to your children in the five years that mingyu was gone.

it was only until bo was seven years old that he met his father again. aji was about 15, and chi was 9 years old.

his five years abroad was the longest you two have ever been apart, but it proved to be an incredible testament to the lengths you both would endure just to provide your children with a comfortable life. a life that used to only exist in the movies and dramas that you two would watch before but has now been made possible because of the hard work and sacrifices you and mingyu made.

kim mingyu was chivalrous.

it was the simplest gesture of his that you would take notice of: he would hold open doors for you and your children. it was an automatic response from him–you didn’t need to ask him to–he just simply did it. as a father, his gentlemanly actions set the standards and expectations of your children. they especially influence the actions of your youngest son, bo.

mingyu was someone that’s attentive to the needs of others. an altruistic person.

he’d say to your children, “if you can help, then help.”

your husband isn’t an overly kind person. he knows his boundaries… sometimes. in your viewpoint, at times, he gets a bit into helping others to the point that he fails to recognize that they were only using him for their own selfish reasons. you were his voice of reason and helped him put a limit to his kindness.

kim mingyu was a homemaker.

from cooking, driving the kids, vacuuming, mopping, cleaning dishes, folding clothes, mowing, cutting and dyeing the kids’ hair (and your hair)—mingyu was an absolute all rounder around the house. but it’s not like you don’t do your fair share of house chores–you do. the two of you alternate chores every week. it’s a routinized system that the two of you made.

your relationship with your husband isn’t at all perfect, but you know you’re both going to get through it together. in times where you don’t see eye to eye, or say things in the heat of the moment… both of you will silently apologize through actions.

it’s not like you both can’t verbally apologize to one another… it’s just that the both of you are not used to expressing your emotions. you two didn’t grow up in an environment where emotions were talked about.

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once, mingyu shared a personal story with you.

it was about his father.

he shared how he was distant with his father. mingyu, as a child, hated the way his father would always leave and make his mother cry. his mother always hid away in the bathroom or their "shared" bedroom to shed her tears, away from mingyu, but he heard them. he heard her painful cries every single night. there was never a day where his mother didn't cry herself to sleep.

his father was someone who couldn’t keep his zipper up—a cheater.

his father was what made kim mingyu the man that he is now.

he hated his father. he didn't want to be like him when he grew up. so he made a silent promise to himself that he would never treat the woman that he loved and married like how his father did to his mother.

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the past 25 years of your married life and family life had its ups and downs, of course no relationships are ever picture-perfect, but you try to embrace each other's shortcomings.

after 25 years of being married, you can proudly say that 23 year old you and 20 year old mingyu would be glad to see 48 year old you and 45 year old mingyu still standing strong together. that no matter what life has thrown your way, you've both gotten through those battles and came out victorious at the end. (some battles may have taken some time to resolve but you both remained by each other's side.)

you and mingyu may not see eye to eye on some things, but you always try to make things work. you try to make compromises with each other.

your marriage may have started because of unexpected circumstances... but it has led you both to an unpredictably beautiful future.

a future with your three children. a future with you and him. a future with a loving family that you both only wished of when you were younger.

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tears continuously pour down your face as you remember your trip down memory lane last night. you try to quietly wipe your tears and lower your weeping but your repeated attempts at silencing yourself only stirs your husband awake.

he's shifting his body beside you to try and face you. "hon..? are you—"

but before mingyu could see your tear stained face, you quickly buried your face into his bare chest.

"woah. (y/n)—honey—are you okay?" he slightly chuckled in his morning voice.

"m jst gld yr he," your muffled voice softly answered.

"what? i didn't understand what you said. could you repeat it while looking at me... please?"

he knew just how to get you to open up to him.

darn you, kim mingyu!

you gave in to his request.

“i’m just glad you’re here…”

you looked up at him and when you met each other’s eyes, his slowly started going wide with worry. "aww, (y/n)... did you have a bad dream?" he gently brushed your tear stained eyes and cheeks.

you shook your head. "no... it was actually the opposite."

giving him a small smile, you rest your head against his warm toned chest as you begin to share the contents of your dreams.

“i dreamt about us last night. how everything started to how everything is now. it opened my mind to how much we’ve been through all these years. it made me feel more grateful to have you as my life partner and husband.”

tears started to welled up in mingyu’s eyes. his heart overflowing with even more love for you.

"thank you for fighting for us, love. thank you for fighting for me–for fighting for our family. i know many were opposed to us because of the sanctity of our marriage but we proved them wrong by staying true to our vows. i’m so thankful that i have the best husband, partner, and father (to our children)–it’s more than i could ever ask for. i love you.”

with that, mingyu embraced you ever so delicately with his muscular arms, it was as if a gentle giant holding a porcelain vase, afraid you were going to break if he applied too much pressure.

“all the promises that i’ve made to you, on our wedding day and after we were married, will never be in vain (y/n)... i can assure you that. we’ve already been through so much together; we’ve witnessed each other's worst pains and great joys. we work great as a team and i wouldn’t want to experience the rest of my life without you. i want to keep making more great memories with you. i want us to keep being by each other's side. thank you for loving me, even though i’m not perfect.”

“i’m not perfect either gyu. we both are imperfect—but it’s that imperfection of ours that i love so much. we’re not perfect but we are perfectly imperfect for each other to love. we complement each other’s weaknesses with our strengths.”

his hold on you tightened slightly, as if he was afraid you would suddenly disappear. you couldn’t see it, but a single tear rolled down mingyu’s cheek. he wore a bittersweet smile on his face.

your sentimental words have your husband feeling bashful and so warm inside.

feeling that his throat was closing up soon, he could only muster up the courage to utter one last endearment to you.

“i love you (y/n)… more than you could ever know… thank you for loving this imperfect me.”

- fin.

#acrosstheujiverse #one shots #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #au #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu seventeen #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu #established relationship #married life #Spotify #thank you

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sxtaep · 2 years ago

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THE HATING GAME - JJK

working together with your biggest competition was not something you saw yourself doing often. but fucking him one late night at office? never in a million years.

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — angst, smut

word count — 7.2k

warnings/tags — lawyer!jk x lawyer!reader, enemies2lovers, dom!jk, sub!reader, swearing, provocation, insults, petty arguing, vague mentions of murder/strangulation, jealousy, teasing, lying, denial, tension x100, improvisation, touching, so much sarcasm, explicit smut, light bondage, grinding, neck kisses, nipple play, tit slapping, begging, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), cunnilingus, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, tongue fucking, dick slapping (face), edging, crying, slapping (like once), spanking, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), light pain kink, finger sucking, angry fucking, creampie, making out, cum eating, post-nut clarity, both very lost and confused by the end.

paired with this edit made by yours truly 🤭

a/n: hello and welcome to jahanara feeding into her office romance fantasies pt98583616 😭 please enjoy this very long and drawn out piece (similar to illicit desire) but more detailed, more descriptive and can be read as a stand-alone.

if you came from tiktok, hello and welcome to the dark side 😁 enjoy the long-awaited lawyer!jk au!

btw this fic has nothing to do with the book/movie called ‘the hating game’ the name just fit this ok 🙄

“We need to talk,” Jungkook’s voice causes your chest to falter as he enters his office, waiting for you to enter before shutting the door behind you and making home on the seat behind his desk.

“We can’t do this case.”

If you could burst out laughing right now, you would, but this was a professional work environment, “You invite me into your office, distracting me from my own work, just to tell me something I already know?” You make yourself comfortable in the seat opposite his, paying him a fake smile, “I don’t know why you’re panicking, we can easily get out of this. We can just say we have too much on our plate to take on a new case. There, done,” you shrug, leaning back in the seat without a care in the world.

Mr Jeon, your boss, thought it’d be a good idea to pair you up with Jungkook to work on a class case.

Why he’d even make that decision was beyond you. Neither of you got along well, trying too hard to one-up each other, spewing insults back and forth like there was no tomorrow. Failure to work well together in this case, you were both threatened with temporary suspension.

“Yeah, you’re forgetting one thing,” he says.

“What’s that?”

“My dad owns the fucking place.”

Yeah, your boss happened to be Jungkook’s dad, and honestly, it wasn’t such a bad thing. He was treated the same way as the other employees, sometimes a bit worse when it came to you.

You were his favourite employee, the absolute star of his team.

“He’s handed our current cases to another attorney so we can focus on this,” Jungkook groans, getting out of his seat to pace around your office as if he were going through a midlife crisis. He halts after a little dilly-dallying, “We should just take the suspension.”

"Pardon you, but I've got bills to pay, and I can't be having that suspension show up on my job record," you try to reason with him, but Jungkook didn't look very convinced. "Think about it this way…” you trail off, leaving your seat behind your desk to head over to him, standing confident in front of him, “When you're suspended, you're pretty much fired for an unfixed period.”

You were willing to work with Jungkook, just to get this whole thing out of the way, and there was only one way to get him on board.

Provoking him.

“I’m sure the Jeon Jungkook doesn’t wanna get suspended by his own daddy, right?” you taunt him, your voice getting quieter with each word.

Jungkook knew you were messing with him, and hated how you actually got under his skin, but with a defeated sigh, he agrees, “Fine, let’s win this case. How about we work on it over at your place? I’m sure you’ve got no plans for the weekend,” he scoffs, cocking a brow at your overly-confident form.

“I actually have a date this weekend,” you shrug, turning your back towards him ready to take your leave. “We can work on it later tonight, I’m leaving now.”

A date? There’s no way…

Jungkook is quick to rush to the door, blocking you from opening the door just as you reach out for the door knob. His arms were extended out to his sides, stopping you from leaving.

He needed to know who this guy was and why the hell he would go on a date with you of all people. “A date? Someone actually wants to sit and have dinner with you?” he questions, like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “He’s gotta be deaf or blind.”

Now, with shit like this, you’d walk away, but Jungkook rendered you trapped in his office, “Listen you conceited asshole,” your index fingers goes to jab at his chest and you have to force yourself to ignore how built he was under his shirt, “I don’t like you. Never have, never will. We’re all a bit different outside of work but I’ve restricted you from seeing that side of me because you don’t deserve it.”

It was a simple and truthful explanation, you hated Jungkook beyond words, neither of you had a relationship outside of the firm. Your work persona would definitely not attract a guy with how much of a workaholic you were.

You needed this date, as a break from all the hardships these cases brought you.

Jungkook pondered your words carefully. Maybe he was a bit iffy about not having a relationship with you outside of work, he didn’t wanna be just a “work colleague” or that “annoying guy from work. He had way too much pride for that.

“Now if you could please stop hogging the door, that would be great. I don’t think I wanna spend another minute with you in your office.”

“Likewise, Y/N,” Jungkook sneers as he steps away from the door. It doesn't even register to either of you that this could be counted as an argument. How easily you both bumped heads with each other would have to come to a stop now that Mr Jeon was keeping a keen eye on you two.

As the day comes to night, you were still locked away in your office, reading away at your newly appointed case details and taking brief notes. The details were… gory to say the least, and exceptionally hard to read, but being a lawyer, you’d gotten used to it, having read the worst of the worst during your career. It was pretty much a skill to read such gruesome and ill details of murders, kidnappings and assaults with a straight face.

You were lucky not to be the only one reading up on gore so late at night, Jungkook waltzing through your office without knocking (as he always did) with a cup of coffee in his hand. He doesn’t say a word and instead sets the cup on your desk and takes a seat opposite you.

You thought you were seeing things.

Jeon Jungkook buying you coffee? That’s a first.

You don’t say anything, reaching out for the cup and bringing it close to your lips, about to take a sip, but you stop.

“You didn’t poison it, did you?”

As the man was getting comfortable in his seat, he deadpans, “Seriously? What am I, five?”

“Mmm, you act like it,” you mumble, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of the coffee anyway.

Thankfully, you were still up and alive.

“Have you had a look at the case yet? It’s a lot of information,” Jungkook says absentmindedly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he propped his feet up onto your desk; a move you’d witnessed on so many occasions, you’d gotten too tired to reprimand him for it.

You set the cup down and speculate over the mess of paper on your desk with a sigh, “Yeah.. I think it might be the hardest we’ve gotten yet.”

You pull out a photo of the crime scene from under the file, sliding it towards him.

It was a very clear image of strangulation on the victim, faded blood and marks of red around the victim’s neck.

All caused by his own father.

“So what are we? Defence or Prosecution?” You’d usually decide this part on your own, but you wanted to hear his thoughts first and ensure he was on the same page as you.

“Easy,” his eyes dip down to your desk, analysing the photo, “We’re defence,” he decides with no hesitation, pulling on his tie to loosen it slightly around his collar.

“What? You wanna go Defence? Seriously?” You thought prosecuting would be the most obvious route to take seeing as the evidence pointed towards the father of the victim being the obvious murderer.

“I spoke with Jimin about it earlier and he also thinks Defence would be the easier route for us.”

“Oh, so it’s just Jimin’s word against mine now?” you arch a brow at him, tilting your head to the side, awaiting a bullshit answer from him.

From the tone of your voice, Jungkook knew you were slowly getting worked up, and quite frankly, there was too much at stake to be arguing when the case hadn’t even started yet. “You know what, we’ll be the Prosecution if it shuts you up.”

As long as you got what you wanted.

“So who’s taking you on a date this weekend?”

Jungkook’s sudden question surprised you. You couldn’t think of one valid reason as to why he cared.

“Um, you probably don’t know him, but his name is Jung Hoseok—”

“—I know him.”

Of course Jungkook knew him; the pair went to law school together but parted ways after Hoseok got a job as a district attorney in the states.

He only returned a couple years back after becoming a legal director at their opposing law firm.

You regretted giving away Hoseok’s name. Now that Jungkook, your absolute nemesis, knew your potential love interest, he was probably planning to absolutely shit talk you to stop you from finding love to feed his bitter self.

“I know Hoseok pretty well, actually. He’s not really fit to be a boss if I’m being honest,” Jungkook recalls, remembering many times back in law school when leadership roles in team activities were up for grabs and Hoseok would always steer clear of them. “Surprised he’s willing to date a bitch,” he snickers, waiting for you to cuss him out.

“Listen, you’re tired, I’m tired, I don’t wanna talk about who’s a bitch and who’s fit enough to be a boss… and it’s definitely not you.”

“Oh yeah? What does Jung Hoseok have that I don’t?”

“Compassion, respect, authority, control, not to mention, he’s quite the attractive man,” you shrug with a sly smile, continuing to boast about Hoseok and at the moment, Jungkook was regretting even asking in the first place.

He could be all that and more.

“But our relationship isn’t very deeply rooted. We’re not in love or anything, we’ve only been on one date so our relationship is at the minimum right now.”

Jungkook didn’t ask for a dramatic reading of your relationship, and he’d just about heard enough, “Yeah, whatever. Can you cook? You should cook for us this weekend. You know, get the brain juice flowing or whatever it’s called,” he stands up abruptly, stretching his arms above his head before heading over to your couch, slouching against the material as he looks over at you, awaiting an answer.

“Why would I cook for someone I hate?”

“You don’t hate me,” he throws back at you, a sly smirk adorning his features, “You pick fights with me and always get competitive, because when you overcome me, it makes you feel better about yourself.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, pondering his words a little.

Maybe he was right to an extent. Nothing felt better than being put against each other and reigning victorious. Everyone in the firm knew how competitive you both were and always steered clear of any kind of opportunity to compete with you.

You sigh and roll your eyes, “Hmm… Maybe I might just have a thing for you, who knows,” you respond casually, shrugging your shoulders just to mess with him a little. “But that’s what you want, right? Another girl to fawn over you?” you taunt him, keeping your eyes trained on him as you recall the number of women that had bombarded your office earlier today after you were counted ‘lucky’ for working with Jungkook, ‘the most attractive guy in the firm.’

Now that made him fix his posture, sitting up for what could only be the most predictable thing he’d ever heard, “Oh my god, I knew it,” he laughs, almost demeaningly, “Everyone and their mum has a thing for me, you’re no different,” he shook his head in disbelief, a large grin spread across his face. “So that’s why you always argue with me, huh? Just so you can talk to me? That’s cute, especially since it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you question, slightly offended.

“Because it’s gonna be fun having the Y/N, my biggest competition, falling in love with me, Jeon Jungkook. Imagine all the headlines that would make.”

God, he’s so full of himself.

As much as you hated how egotistical he was, you wanted to continue your little play act, rising to your feet and walking over to Jungkook by the couch and once near enough, you grab the end of his tie, leaning down towards him and pulling him close to your face with a deceitful smile gracing your lips, “Oh Jeon… You’re so smart, I can’t believe you figured me out so quickly…” you whisper, voice as soft as ever and something Jungkook had never heard before.

He couldn’t deny, your hold on his tie was probably the most attractive thing he’d ever witnessed, but he would never flat-out admit it to you.

Jungkook lifts his hand to gently rest against your cheek, merely trying to see just how far you’d go to keep this act up, “Mhm, I bet you like where we are now, don’t you?” he teases, his voice dropping several octaves and matching the volume of what was once your voice, now barely there as your mind went blank and his eyes proceeded to dance between your lips and your eyes.

Your cheeks had heated up drastically under his touch and you weren’t expecting him to make a comeback like that, and you really weren’t prepared to take things any further, but your pride would take a major blow if you backed out now.

Besides, the setting was perfect for that kind of moment; a near empty building, alone in the office, lights dimmed down, both tired and stressed out..

Your lips were mere inches away from his own and you could’ve kissed him if you really wanted to, and maybe, maybe you did want to kiss him—

No, that was the tense air speaking.

Just improvise.

“Mhm, this is exactly what I wanted…” you whisper, giving his tie one last tug till your foreheads were touching, “But I’m sure your hand can make-do in better places, don’t you think?”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, and you almost miss it, but it was enough of a sign to let you know he wasn’t expecting you to keep up. It wasn’t a problem for him though, the man was just as stubborn and prideful as you were, there was absolutely no way in hell he was gonna back down.

Not until you do.

“And what about yours, Y/N?” he challenges, eyes briefly peering down at your hand still gripping on the end of his tie, “I bet you’re really skilled with your hands, aren’t you?”

The real fun begins when the hand that was once resting against your cheek, drops a little lower, making home over the dip of your neck and Jungkook could feel your skin burn under his palm.

Your heart was racing as you discreetly pondered what he meant by that and once you clocked on, your body had stiffened, but you needed to seem unfazed, “Of course I am, probably more skilled than you at this point,” you shrug, gesturing towards his hand near your neck.

If he had the balls, he’d touch you somewhere more scandalous.

“Oh, is that right? You wanna bring my hands further down then, Y/N?”

Jungkook was testing you and your patience. If he thought you were gonna pussy out, he was wrong.

Your left hand grabs onto his wrist, right hand landing flat against his chest as you pushed him back against the sofa, and without even thinking of your next move, you impulsively make home on Jungkook’s lap, straddling his thighs as you adjust yourself on top of him. He watched on, slightly shocked and a little amused at the lengths you were going through just to prove a point.

With your hand wrapped around his wrist, you drag his hand down your body, slowly reaching your chest and stopping, “How about this?” you whisper, your voice on the verge of the faltering.

“Could be better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his blazer off his body, leaving it elsewhere and going back to his previous position, “Try this…”

He begins to pull his tie off around his collar, leaving it beside him for later use and then reaching up to unbutton his white dress shirt until hints of skin peeked through, “It’ll be better if you touch me yourself, but I’m sure you already know that since you’re so ‘skilled,” he says, his hands resting over your hips.

How long was Jungkook gonna keep this up? You were running out of ideas and though this was all a game, you couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit turned on, but how couldn’t you? You were sitting on his lap, your near-skintight skirt rolling up your thighs and you were almost certain he could feel the slight throbbing between your legs.

With one hand placed on his shoulder, the other reaching down to slip your hand past his shirt, your palms making direct contact with his built chest, God, you’re all talk,” you roll your eyes, leaning in to whisper against his ear, “Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?”

Jungkook throws his head back, eliciting a low chuckle, eyes meeting yours again as his palms made home on your thighs, squeezing your flesh enough to warm himself up, “If we continue, this won't be a game anymore…” he trails off, trying his absolute hardest to ignore the growing pain of his hardening cock under his slacks, “I won't be able to stop,” he continues, knowing inside he wanted this too, but was more than willing to back off if you seriously didn’t wanna do this, “Is this what you want?”

Fuck, of course you wanted this. Your body needed an output, some kind of relief. Just this once, you were willing to set aside your differences for what, ten minutes of quick relief?

You adjust yourself on his lap, your lace-clad cunt snug above his growing erection and you could've sworn you almost moaned at the contact. "Can you feel that?” you whisper, referring to the throbbing between your legs. "Is that enough of an answer for you?"

"Jesus Y/N," Jungkook nearly groans at the closeness. If he continued this game, he would cross a line that would be hard to come back from, and he was willing and ready to deal with the consequences to come.

With one swift move, he rests his fingers under your chin, tilting your head to the side to make room for his lips to attach to your neck, gently sucking and biting along your untainted neck didn't whilst he kept you distracted by the new sudden feeling of his large hands rocking your hips back and forth over his erection.

You elicit a soft sigh, eyes coming to a gentle shut as you basked in the soft pleasure, your soaked-through panties bound to leave a mark of your mess on top of him.

Jungkook pulls away from your neck, leaning back to admire your state; your cheeks were flushed pink, hair a little messy and a sheer layer of sweat adorning your chest, resulting in your blouse sticking to your body and arched a brow at you, “Take the shirt off for me, will you?”

You don’t hesitate to oblige, unbuttoning your mesh blouse with your eyes solely focused on him, and it seemed Jungkook had the same plan to just stare you down as you pulled the material off your shoulders, your well hidden assets finally coming in to view and Jungkook’s breath had hitched in his throat.

He didn’t know what came over him, or if he was just high in the moment, but you looked absolutely unreal; a simple yet stunning black lace bralette over your chest, your cleavage on full show and and it was everything he’d imagined. He inhales sharply, resisting the urge to just grab you, but Jungkook was a man of class (sometimes).

He gestured for you to remove the bralette and you did, hands reaching for your back to unclasp everything and let the material fall to your lap, freeing your tits right in front of his face and he was impulsively leaning in, briefly flicking his tongue over your hardened nipples before pulling away just to leave a ruthless smack over the expanse of your tits, revelling in the way your skin would redden and how your body would jump on top of him.

If he was feeling nice, he’d give in to you, give you exactly what you wanted, but to be frank, he wasn’t in a nice mood. He didn’t know if he hated you the way he did before all of this but God, was he gonna give you a piece of his mind..

Jungkook briefly slips his hand under your skirt and reaching between your legs, eager to feel just how soaked you were through your panties and boy, he was not disappointed.

Just mere talking and subtle teasing got you this riled up?

Clearly yes, your thighs were shuddering between his hand and you were almost embarrassed to be sitting where you were right now, “What are you waiting for?” you huff, frustration evident in your tone as you pulled yourself up to slip off your panties.

“I’m waiting for you to beg.”

“I’m not begging you—”

As soon as your panties were off, Jungkook was immediately pulling you back down onto his lap, now getting a real feel of your slick dampening his dress pants, “You’ll beg me, otherwise we can just wrap this up and call it a day…” he trails off, firmly gripping your hips as he pressed you down harder on his hardening cock, forcing a quiet moan to slip past your lips.

“Come on, Y/N… you know what you want, just tell me,” he whispers, eyes meeting yours and drinking in the irritation in them.

God, he loved irritating you.

Giving in just this once wouldn't hurt you, but you weren’t exactly the begging type of person, “I need your hands…” you manage to muster, your poor cunt practically leaking over his slacks.

“That’s not how you ask nicely,” Jungkook taunts you, throwing in a disappointed sigh, “Enlighten me, will you? How bad do you want them?” He leans back against the sofa, his hands rolling the hem of your skirt up over your thighs so he could have a clear cut view of your pussy, swallowing sharply once his eyes catch a glint of your flesh shining under the dim lights.

"Fuck you.." you grit. Jungkook stating the obvious was embarrassing for you; who would've thought Jeon Jungkook would be the reason for your desperation.

You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was enjoying tormenting you, and today was not gonna be the day you beg for him; you had far too much pride for that.

Instead of using your words, you grab ahold of his hand, guiding it down your body and between your legs. Once the pad of his fingers were against your clit, you wasted no time in rocking your hips against them. "I— I want your fingers inside me," you whisper against his ear, hoping he’d cut you some slack.

"Oh Y/N..." Jungkook shook his head disapprovingly. He quickly pulls his hands away to fetch his tie laying next to him on the couch.

You knew exactly where he was going with this and you were right; he’d grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your lower back, using his black tie to restrain your hands, and all you could do was shuffle on top of him, “I’d be careful when moving, wouldn’t want you to fall back,” he taunts you, a grin plastering his face as he pulled on the restraints one last time.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare you a minute to get used to the tie, his hand making home between your legs once again as he moved the pad of his fingers up and down against your swollen clit agonisingly slow, “Don’t you know your manners, Y/N? What happened to saying ‘please’ when you want something?”

You were falling apart on top of him, your hands clawing at nothing as you tried to remain composed. You felt absolutely hopeless, and giving in didn’t seem so bad right about now.

“I fucking hate you,” you seethe through gritted teeth, grinding yourself against his fingers seeing as his lace was too slow for your own liking, “Please, Jungkook…” it physically hurt you to say those words, feeling your cheeks swell up in embarrassment, “I wanna fuck myself on your fingers…”

Most certainly pleased by your answer, he doesn't waste any time, thrusting his index and middle finger into you so fast, a gasp was ripped from your throat. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Only a real slut would beg to get fucked by a guy she hates.”

His hands began to push in and out carefully, admiring your eventual fucked out state, "Fuck yourself on them, pretty," Jungkook instructs, gradually speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. "Or do you want me to curl them?"

It was a rhetorical question, already feeling him curl his fingers between your soft walls as you helplessly clenched around him.

It felt so good.

It was unfortunate your body was close to giving in, struggling to stay up on top of him but you tried to muster as much strength as you could to keep going, drowning Jungkook's digits in your slick as your hips moved up and down on his fingers at a similar pace to his wrist, “Jeon, I can’t..

"Oh? But you can argue with me, call me names, and make a fool of me in front of my colleagues?" Jungkook taunts, speeding up his fingers to a torturous fast pace that was sure to bring you closer to your high. "You can do all of that, but you can't fuck yourself on my fingers? What a pathetic bitch.”

He reaches behind you to untie the restraints binding your wrists together, letting the material drop to the floor behind you before he was picking you up and carrying you over to your desk, setting you down on the surface and pushing you to lie back ever so slightly as he dropped to his knees between your legs.

He split your legs apart, audibly groaning at the sight of your swollen pussy; clit peeking out and your tight hole desperately clenching around nothing. “Fuck… Look at that desperate pussy..” he mumbles to himself, fixing your legs over his shoulders as he leaned in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cunt.

A content sigh left fell from your lips as he used the tip of his tongue to toy with your sensitive bud, causing your thighs to shake around his head. The repetitive movement had your body tensing and the moans you’d been keeping to a minimum now at the max.

“So— so good..” you whimper, gazing down at him. With your hands free, they moved to grab at his dark locks, shoving his head further between your legs till you could feel his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit and good god, Jungkook would go to hell and back to drown in your pussy for eternity.

He let out a muffled groan, sliding his tongue between your folds and sucking on your clit like his life depended on it, but he needed to pull away if he wanted to live to experience that.

When Jungkook pulled away, you whined, but he wasn’t gone for long, suddenly delivering a harsh slap to your cunt that made your body jump and left your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It stung, but it felt so fucking good.

Pleased by your reaction, he did it again, this time only harder, “Oh, so Miss Lawyer likes getting her slutty pussy slapped?”

Before you could even respond, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip, not wasting another second before he’d spat right over your aching cunt, forcing you to arch your back off the desk as he watched the bead of spit trail between your folds in awe.

He leaned in again, shoving his tongue into your aching cunt and feeling your walls clench around the wet muscle almost as if you didn’t wanna let go and he found it beyond amusing, pulling away almost immediately just to spite you as he stood up to tower over your body; mouth glistening from all the slick and you couldn’t deny he looked like a hot mess.

What you didn’t see coming, was Jungkook grabbing your face, slapping you one as he squished your cheeks within his hold, forcing your lips to pucker as he spat into your mouth, the mixture of his saliva and your slick seeping down your throat as you swallowed with no hesitation.

He chuckled deeply, “Should’ve known an A class whore like yourself was into this shit. What do you think the jury would think about that, huh?” He continues to tug on your face, forcing you to keep your eyes on him so he could watch you break down before him.

Jungkook pulls you up and off the desk, standing tall and confident in front of you as you tried to regain a steady composure, almost stumbling.

“I don’t know how they’d feel knowing the slutty prosecutor got on her knees for the heir of this firm,” he starts, reaching out to wrap his hand around your neck firmly and pulling you towards him, “We should risk it and find out, huh?” he breathes out against your lips, low and hoarse and you had to squeeze your thighs shut from the flutters you were feeling between your legs.

“I’d rather throw dirt in my eyes than suck your dick,” you spit, shamelessly lying through your teeth and Jungkook immediately knew you were playing games.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” His hands shift from your neck to the back of your head, gripping a hand full of your hair and urging you to get on your knees and you did exactly that, making it easy for him to get you down as you tried your best to conceal the knowing smile growing on your lips but all you did was lick your lips up at him, anticipation clouding your eyes as you gulped.

The subtle action alone had his dick jumping in his slacks and he refused to wait any longer before unbuckling his belt and pulling pants halfway down his thighs, leaving a thick and oblivious imprint of his cock straining against his boxers right in front of your face.

You didn’t realise it, but your body was inching towards him and Jungkook took notice straight away, doing you the favour of pulling his cock out from its confines to stand tall and hard before you.

You were meaning to reach out for him, but he beat you to it, wrapping a strong hand around the base of his cock as he pumped himself between his fist a couple times, squinting at the little bead of precum eventually dripping down the base of his cock and you could only stare on in awe.

“You want my cock down your throat, huh?” he taunts deeply, moving forwards so he could guide the tip of his leaking cock across your face, nudging your cheek and avoiding all contact with your mouth.

Right where you wanted him most.

“Say it,” he lightly slaps the tip of his dick against your cheek, dragging it down to your lips but not yet pushing in, “Say you’re a cock-hungry bitch who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much…”

Submission was never your thing. You always showed yourself out to be a woman who always stood her ground, never taking shit from anyone. But now it was your worst enemy, proving you wrong on all of the above.

“I’m a cock-hungry bitch..” your words are there, but no confidence within them, “Who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much,” you mumble against the tip of his dick, hoping he’d give in to you.

Jungkook shrugs, “Could be better, but what more do I expect from a whore?” He suddenly pushes the tip of his cock past your lips, taking you by surprise as he groaned deeply, basking in the warmth of your mouth as he slowly eased himself into you inch by inch until he completely bottomed out.

You couldn’t handle his immense size, already struggling to breathe and he hadn’t even moved yet and tears were brimming your eyes.

“Tight fucking fit…” he seethes, slowly pulling out only to slam back into your mouth with brute force, each thrust pushing against the back of your throat and though you started choking, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You didn’t want him to stop; allowing him to use your head as assistance.

“Fucking made for my cock, aren’t you? A perfect fit..”

The only sounds that could be heard were Jungkook’s groans and the illicit sounds of your gagging and spluttering, a mixture of spit and precum leaking out the sides of your mouth.

"Gonna make better use of your pretty mouth.. and dumb you up so you'll never be able to throw all that fucking attitude at me again.." With no prep whatsoever, he impales your throat again, this time keeping your head at the very base of his cock, your nose brushing against his abdomen as your throat clenched around him, squeezing tightly to the point you could feel him throb.

“If this is the only way to shut you up, I’ll have you on your knees more often,” he looks down at you, watching the woman who stood so high on her fucking imaginary pedestal, now kneeling between his legs with her mouth stuffed full of his cock like a needy bitch.

Jungkook was damn near certain he almost came from the sight of you alone so he suddenly pulled you away from him, a thick and heavy string of precum connecting your lips to him leaving you a gasping, teary eyed, heaving mess.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you grumble, slightly annoyed by the sudden withdrawal as you hastily stood onto your feet.

“Oh, Y/N.. What am I gonna do with you?” he questions, sarcasm lacing his voice as he took a couple steps towards you just to grab your arm and turn you around; pushing you down front first against the glass surface of his desk.

You could barely make out what he was about to do, the side of your face pressed up against the glass but God, he was so close behind you, you couldn’t help but push back against him a little, whimpering at the sliver of skin-on-skin contact with him and Jungkook was all for your eagerness.

He spits against the palm of his hand, using the heel of his palm to reach down between your legs and massage your weeping cunt, briefly letting his digits dip into you before replacing them with his cock.

At last.

“Oh— fuck.. Jeon—!” You’re more vocal now than you were ever before, his size deeming you absolutely vulnerable as he pushed into you slowly. The stretch was beyond humane, he was practically splitting you open and your tears were suddenly making another appearance.

Jungkook felt like he was going through the seven stages of grief; not expecting you to be so tight around him and already so addicting, it was like a revelation for him.

“Pussy made just for me..” he groans, a palm aiming to land a harsh smack against your ass cheek, making you jump and the ongoing stinging sensation turning the affected area a light shade of pink which was bound to darken overtime. “All fucking mine—” he grits harshly squeezing the flesh of your ass as he continued to thrust in and out of your sopping cunt, “Fuck, look at your tight pussy just sucking me in… bet you like me shoving into your cunt, huh?”

“Uhghhh yes, yes! I love it so much!”

You loved the pain.

Each powerful thrust caused your body to repeatedly shift against your desk, again and again his dick slamming so deep into your guts you wondered if it were even possible to experience such a thing.

You could tell he was giving you his all; his muscles were tense, every vein in his body was popping out just so he could take out his frustrations on you. He dealt with your ass for three years; constant bickering, competitions, insults, but fuck him, if he knew you what got you going, he’d have fucked you way sooner.

“Bet you wished I’d come in and fuck you at some point, huh?” A smirk was lingering over his features, knowing well what your answer was.

“God— yes!” Your back forcibly arches against your will as you nod desperately.

Truth be told, you did look forward to his visits in your office just to argue with you. Arguing with an attractive man who looked even hotter when he was mad?

Of course.

“And everytime I’d leave your office, you’d sit in your chair with a wet fucking pussy all day, hoping I’d come back in just to fuck you, right? But God, why didn’t I do that?” he mentally curses himself, digging his fingers into your hips as his pace faltered, indicating he was losing traction.

“Fuck you for not making a move,” you hiss through tears, gripping at the edge of your desk for stability as his thrusts became sloppy and messy.

He lands another harsh smack against your ass, making you help in surprise, “Shut the fuck up, I’m not done,” he seethes, picking up the pace and knocking all other backtalk out of your lungs, "Every damn day, I've had to deal with your shit; talking down on me—" his words laced with anger as he slams in to you, "—flaunting your stupid awards in my face and walking around like you own the fucking place."

He abruptly pulls out, turning you over to lay back on the desk whilst he spread your legs apart, his cock slipping into you once more as his free hand settled a harsh slap against your tits, “Now I have you under me, crying on my cock like a little bitch. Where'd that confidence go, huh?"

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, to busy doing exactly as he’d stated. Your mind was hazy and your body was going numb, all you were capable of was squeezing your walls tightly around his cock as a sign to say you were close.

“Oh you’re close, huh?” Jungkook brings his hand down to scoop up the stringy mess connecting both your bodies, “We can’t have security walk in, can we?” lifting his hand again to shove three slick coated digits into your mouth in a bid to silence your moans as you came. “Come all over my cock like you were born for it.”

And thank god he did what he did because your pleasure filled cries would have woken up the entire city.

Your tongue lapped at his fingers, sucking off whatever was there before he pulled them out of your mouth, admiring the way they glistened under the dim lights.

You stared up at him in a daze, chest heaving and tits bruised red as he thrusted back and forth a couple more times before finally reaching his orgasm with a low bellow.

“Fuck…” he groans to himself and you could feel his warmth completely fill you up, some of it too much to the point white was leaking out of your sensitive cunt as he drained himself empty into you.

Once Jungkook was certain he was done, he slowly pulled out, his cock falling limp and his mess now prominent between your legs, noticing it was all slipping out so he did you the duty of using his fingers to push as much as he could back into you, the sensitivity making you shudder, “Can’t let it go to waste,” he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to his lips to sneak a taste.

It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen and he was pulling you to sit up on the desk before grabbing your case with both hands and kissing you with all his might.

It was unexpected but you were too in the moment to stop him. You could just about make out the distinctive taste of yourself and him on your lips and all you were wondering was how the hell you’d both come back from this.

Jungkook bit down on your bottom lip, dragging it out towards him before letting go and watching the plumpness bounce back, red and swollen like he’d left his mark on you.

“What did we just do..?” you whisper, finally drinking in the state of yourself and the absolute state of your office, papers everywhere and the smell of sex surrounding you.

Jungkook didn’t know what came over him, but he needed to reassure you one thing; “This probably wasn’t ideal but I don’t regret it,” he says, eyes glued to yours and curious to know if you felt the same way.

You didn’t know if you felt the same way, but you certainly weren’t feeling bad about it.

“You don’t have to say anything now, or put a label on it or anything, you can take your time,” he tells you softly, pulling away from you to pull his pants back up and tuck himself away. He was unsure whether you wanted to be alone or wanted to stay in his presence, but he figured he’d do what was safest, “Want me to clean you up and walk you to your car?”

Your hands adjusted the skirt that had been rolled up your hips, pulling it down to shield your thighs and the mess as you shook your head, “Oh no, that’s okay, I can take it from here,” you reply, this time giving him a genuine smile for his chivalry, one he’d never actually seen on you before and he wished he could see it more often.

Jungkook nodded and went to collect his shirt by the sofa, throwing it over his shoulder and heading for the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then for some case work.”

“Yeah, you too…”

He curtly nodded and headed out of your office with a sigh. He didn’t wanna leave you alone after that, but he wanted to avoid any intrusive/pushy questioning and awkwardness.

How the hell would you both ever come back from this?

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flightfoot · 4 days ago

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ML Fanfic Recs for Completed Fics Under 4000 Words

Hope everyone likes my selection here! I've got 21 fics for your perusal, mostly either humor or angst fics. When it comes to shorter wordcounts, those are the two genres that tend to make the greatest impact for me. Humor especially seems to thrive in short-form fics, I rarely see it in longer ones - if it appears in longer fics, it's usually in rom-com form.

I've tagged every author that I knew the tumblr username of. Feel free to tag the author if I didn't manage to get them!

All of these fics will be in my Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2024 Collection, and if you like that, please consider checking out my other collections, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2023, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2022, and Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics - Misc. Years.

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The Challenges of Changing Your Life by Shortdreamer

In the days following their return to their own universe Marinette was faced with several new challenges. But the most intimidating challenge that Marinette faced was getting to know her “new” partner.

Great ML Paris Special fic here! I love Marinette changing how she interacts with the people in her life in order to try to forge relationships, and hopefully, maybe even gain some semblance of the life her counterpart has.

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The Magical Rainbow Flying Caticorn by CrochetJellybean

Kagami is just trying to have a fun day with Marinette when Felix keeps messaging her. Apparently Adrien stole the peacock miraculous and won't give it back.

So this is a fun little fic. Felix is very annoyed at having lost his Miraculous, but hey, at least the kwamis are amused with the situation! There might as well be some sort of upside to being a Senti XD.

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The Self I Should Be (The Self I Could Be) by @pisoprano

Adrien realizes he has some feelings for Loveybug. Loveybug realizes that Adrien still misses Ladybug.

I love how this fic explores "private selves" and "public selves" for both Adrien and Marinette, lets them both relax a bit and decide what kind of dynamic they want to have. It's excellent!

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never been in love by @bittersweetresilience

Félix wonders if he has a heart. If he does, it doesn't beat like that.

I love this look at aromantic!Felix, him wrestling with his feelings (or lack of them) as he struggles to come to terms with them, especially since part of his father's abuse involved Colt telling him he could never love.

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Always Trending! by @candlemouse

Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube argue over the Parisian superheroes’ relationship and identities. Things heat up even more when interviews from the Ladyblogger, Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste, and Ladybug release!

This is a fun little glimpse into social media within Miraculous's world, especially with the speculation over secret identities. People keep on putting forward Adrien Agreste as possibly being Ladybug or Chat Noir, even though he's too busy to possibly be a superhero XD

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Paper Masks by @jheqiawrites

“How do you feel about causing a little mischief?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I beg your pardon?” Loveybug swatted him playfully on the shoulder. “You know, trouble, pranks, clownery, buffoonery, silliness, a lark, a jest, sheer jiggery-pokery!” “That depends on what kind of shenanigans you had in mind.” She giggled, eyes wide and bright with appreciation. “ Ooh, that’s a good one! I should write that down sometime. But, as for your question…” She pulled her yoyo out and flicked it open, spilling white light over their feet. “It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of concern,” Catwalker said, but forgot immediately what else he had been going to say when he saw Loveybug pull roll after roll of toilet paper out of the white field. All he could do was stare as she continued to pull out rolls until she had made a small pyramid on the floor next to them. “Excuse me if I sound rude, but what on earth are you going to do with those?” The smile she gave him was pure puckishness. She waved at the bright figure of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. “My lord, have you ever TPied a national monument?”

Loveybug AU fic here! (obviously). I loved the absurdity of these two trying to TP... well, I won't spoil where they eventually decide deserves the treatment XD. Mostly, though, I love both Loveybug and Cat Walker (but mostly Loveybug) breaking down, breaking out of their new personas, and really getting to talk with each other.

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you could win a rabbit by @purplecatghostposts

Félix raises an eyebrow but obliges. He should probably get on with it before Adrien second guesses himself too hard and tries to take it back. Félix pulls the tissue paper out and squints at what’s inside. It’s— a plushie? He takes it out of the bag to get a better look at it. All of the air is stolen from his lungs the second he does. A rabbit plushie. A white rabbit plushie. (Or for Félix’s next birthday, Adrien teams up with Marinette to make Félix a rabbit plushie, much like the one he had as a kid. Old feelings Félix thought he buried return in full force.)

I loved seeing a potential backstory to the torn stuffed bunny we saw in the play in Representation, and Felix's reaction to getting another rabbit plush was heart-wrenching!

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A Domestic Cold War by @unecoccinellenoire

Félix lives with a murderer. It’s not the first time. Unfortunately his cousin would never ever forgive him if Félix was to take Nathalie Sancoeur off the board.

I like the conversation Nathalie and Felix have here. They don't like each other (or well, Felix doesn't like Nathalie, Nathalie is just ambivalent about him), but they come to an understanding. It's interesting to see Nathalie's viewpoint on life and killing, and hear allusions to the things she was up to before she became Gabriel's secretary.

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the eyes that follow me; the ghost of my errors by NeonLite

There was something wrong with Duusu. More than Felix thinks should be. He didn’t have a frame of reference for Duusu’s behaviours. He doesn’t know what’s normal for the Kwami or how Kwami were supposed to act at all. The information he gathered from the tablet wasn’t much, he learned even less about the Kwamis but… Felix didn’t have a frame of reference for Duusu’s behaviour. But he didn’t think the Kwami of Emotion should look so empty.

I love how this fic acknowledges how Felix doomed the rest of the kwamis to staying with Gabriel, and how unhappy Duusu would be about that. Which Felix understands, but he was also desperate, and right now he can't stay transformed for long or keep any sentis he makes alive, which just... you can feel his desperation and bottled-up guilt. He knows what he did was wrong, but he'd still do it again, in order to feel safe for once in his life.

---

see a world so beautiful and strange (spinning off somewhere) by @that-was-anticlimactic

“Why? Why are you suppressing?” “Because I can't tic,” Alya whispered, fingernails digging into the skin on her arm. “I know Tourette’s isn’t exactly uncommon, but it’s part of my identity as Alya Césaire. It can’t be a part of Rena Rouge, too. Someone could figure out who I am and then…” And then she’d have to give up the coolest thing that’s ever happened to her, give up living her dreams. [or, alya suppresses as rena rogue in order to protect her identity, but neither ladybug nor trixx will let her hurt herself like that]

I love how this fic goes into some of Alya's thoughts and insecurities about having Tourette's, how the general public doesn't understand, and then lets her receive comfort and validation afterwards. It's just... really nice.

---

i'm worried 'bout the future by @purplecatghostposts

He edges closer to Adrien, lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “If it comes down to it, I’ll distract him while you run and hide the first second you get.” “What?” Adrien blurts, louder than Félix would like. His eyes dart to Argos but thankfully, he doesn’t turn around. Félix shoots Adrien a look to lower his voice and thankfully, his cousin listens. “You think we can’t trust him?” “He has the Peacock Miraculous.” Félix points out. “He’s from the future.” Adrien counters. “And Future Chat Noir trusts him so… Maybe we can trust him too?” (Or Chat Noir and a Peacock Hero from a decade in the future end up in the past and save their past selves. Félix is wary of whoever this ‘Argos’ is.)

I love time travel fics. Felix being really wary of the Peacock hero's deliciously ironic, something that Argos realizes and he doesn't. While Adrien's just happy to see his future self and completely trusts what Chat tells him. I loved how Argos was put out when he realized why his past self is afraid of him and trying to reassure him as best he can without giving away spoilers.

---

The Black Cat of the Family by Anonymous

To Felix, Chat Noir is freedom. Pure freedom, unhindered by anything (well, except perhaps a little too much dedication to Ladybug). He goes where he pleases when he pleases. He acts so ridiculous, like no one was ever watching, even when everyone was watching. He chafes at orders and authority, even when the orders are coming from Ladybug herself. He's free to be whoever he wants, in a way Felix only wishes he could be. So of course he starts flirting with the catboy. It also doesn't hurt that the superhero is easy on the eyes. Chat Noir, meanwhile, is simply trying to figure out how to reject his cousin without revealing his own secret identity. But when has anything in his love life ever worked out for him? Or, in other words: Somehow the Fathom-Graham de Vanily-Agreste family becomes even more dysfunctional in brand new ways.

This was fun, I liked the natural way Chat caught Felix's attention with his kindness, wit, and hidden depths. It makes sense why Felix would slowly develop a crush on him, while Chat just thinks that he's having fun with his cousin.

Also Chat's reaction when he realizes that Felix is, in fact, confessing his crush on him, is just priceless XD.

---

Handle With Care by @dragonchris

AU where soulmates can feel each other's emotions. But having a soulmate isn't always beautiful and romantic. Sometimes it's messy. Sometimes it hurts. Marc and Nath have to learn what that means for them.

This was cute, I loved seeing how Nathaniel and Marc both thought about their soulmate, and how they cope with the aftermath of Reverser in this AU. Helps that Alix is a platonic soulmate of Nathaniel's here (Nathaniel has two soulmates).

---

Draining the Tank by @trinketsinthesun

After a hard day of being Paris's most famous fashion designer and supervillain, Gabriel Agreste wants nothing more than a hot bath. But with the hot water tank always empty, he starts to wonder - why is Adrien taking such long showers?

So this fic is rated M, and it's rated that high because Gabriel comes to suspect that Adrien's long showers are due to him masturbating while he's taking them (no masturbation actually takes place in the fic). Then he notices that Adrien's long showers happen to occur most frequently during akuma attacks and draws his own hilariously wrong conclusions XD.

---

Marinette's Temporal Daycare by Choppa01

What do you do if your child is in danger and you have access to time travel? If you're Marinette (A.K.A Ladybug) you send them back in time to your younger self. Bunnix goes back in time to do the drop-off, expecting to surprise a younger Marinette. Instead she is the one who ends up being surprised.

I love the "Adrien and Marinette babysit for their future selves" trope, so this fic was a delight to read! It's ramping the trope up to 11, with multiple different Bunnixes dropping off kids from across timelines, and Marinette having long-since figured out a system to make this work for everyone.

---

I Want to Remember by @kiraheartilly36

Adrien wants to remember all the times Gabriel tried to be a good dad.

This fic is less than 200 words, you could fit the entire thing in an AO3 summary if you wanted to, but I found it both sad and hilarious. Some dark humor here.

---

The Wifi Trap by @jessecosay

Written for the Miraculous Fanworks Anniversary Prompts 2024 for Teleocrater. Alternative universe. Alya is trapped as Lady WiFi, even after being freed by Ladybug. But, at least she has Marinette on her side.

I love fics where people are trapped as their akumatized selves, so this one was right up my alley from the beginning! I love Alya trying to cope with the prejudice people are displaying towards her for being akumatized, and Marinette helping to defend her. Thankfully, while its unfortunate that she's trapped in Lady Wifi's form, she DOES also have access to her akumatized self's powers, which comes in handy...

---

Overload by Verse

The power of creation is not by any mean gentle.

This is a Miraculous side effects fic. Marinette's body will create and create and create, overproducing and causing harm to her unless she finds a way to purge the excess. She got lucky that the particular way her body overproduces is relatively simple to handle and can be harnessed for good purposes. Other Ladybug wielders were not so lucky.

---

Not the Ghost by Yellow_Soul

She… wasn't alone. Not anymore. Even when they parted ways, she would still have someone to come back to. A person that would look forward to seeing her.

I loved this fic's take on why Reverse!Marinette and Reverse!Sabine apparently have a bad relationship. It makes sense that if Tom died, Sabine may be unable to cope with it and begin lashing out or distancing herself out of stress and grief. Love the idea of Adrien and Marinette commiserating over their similar circumstances as well.

---

LOCAL SUPERVILLAIN IS A PEDO?!? by AlexJX

Gabriel stares at the morning news headlines… And walks straight out of the room. “...Father?”

People start noticing that Hawkmoth keeps akumatizing children and reach certain conclusions. It doesn't help that demanding some kids' "Miraculous" or "magic jewels" could be seen as a euphemism.

Ladybug and Chat Noir do nothing to help the situation.

---

Fall From Grace by PlasmusDogmatic

fall from grace verb 1. lose favor or a position of power or honor.

So this story explores a scenario where the Miracuteam is gradually put through darker and more brutal scenarios, becoming darker and more brutal to match, until Parisians are about as afraid of them as the actual villains - and also know that it's partially their own fault, since part of the reason the Miracuteam is more hostile and brutal is because Paris started being harsher and more critical towards them as they struggled more. I found this exploration of their descent really interesting, as the team doesn't turn "evil" at any point, per se, they just get placed in worse and worse circumstances and adapt in some damaging ways.

#ml fanfic rec #miraculous ladybug

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euphoricfilter · 2 years ago

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hi! 💕

for the drabble game: "it's okay, i couldn't sleep anyway." with yoongi. hurt/comfort, superhero/supervillain au, please! thank you! 💖

you and i:

pairing: supervillain! yoongi x superhero! reader

genre: fluff || the mildest angst || non-idol au || technically enemies to implied lovers?? || superhero/ supervillain au

summary: you commit treason, and there's only one person you'd ever trust with your life

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: mentions of death/ murder, mild angst, sort of flufff?? there isn't really much to tag? i didn't proof read this, that's a warning because i usually read over my stuff 3 times before releasing it

notes: i wrote this in less than an hour as a quick lil gift for everyone <3 so if there's mistakes seriously there isn't!! drabble game is closed, so please don't send a request in!!

drabble masterlist || my full masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The moonlight felt almost palpable, that if you were to look down it would spill through your fingers like runny nectar. It cut across your face like shards of fogged up glass, hanging roofs of alleyways flushing you in the partial shadows.

Any other night you would have stopped to admire her beauty— any other night you’d be locked away in your apartment. Except tonight was a little different, and not the good kind of different.

You had no time to stop, feet falling forward in rushed steps, because if you stopped now then surely they’d find you.

You stumble over your own feet, halting at the steel staircase, winding up in a crooked spiral.

You take a step back, peering both ways over your shoulder from the alley way to make sure no one was close enough to follow you. The soles of your shoes clank against the metal, legs dragging you up two stairs at a time.

You tilt your head to look up at the moon as you balance on the rooftop’s ledge, one wrong step and you’d sure to stumble to the ground. You doubt it would kill you— only give the people you were running from an advantage over your escape.

You stop when you find your salvation, knuckles rapping against the wooden door in quick succession.

You rock on your heels, tongue wetting your bottom lip.

You lift your fist to knock at the door again, only for it to open. Yoongi’s eyes widen a fraction before his shoulders relax.

“If you’re here to bring me in, come back in the morning” he waves you off, fingers tightening their hold around the door, moment away from shutting it in your face.

“Actually—“ you suck in a breath through your teeth, “Actually, that’s not why I’m here. I need help”

Yoongi peers out of the door, feline eyes squinting, “Come in” he beckons, kicking the door closed behind him.

“I’m sorry I know it’s late, it’s just—“ you push your palms into the sockets of your eyes, “I didn’t know where else to go” you admit, a soft pink hue dusting your cheeks.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyways” he slinks into the living room, “Got yourself into some trouble?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat, backs of your eyes stinging ever so slightly as you take a seat opposite him on a chair.

“We both know I was never the most morally correct person, even in my field of work” you start, “And that a lot of people want me dead”

Yoongi hums, slouching a little on the couch, “How bad?”

Your foot taps against the floor, leg bouncing, “Pretty bad” though it comes out barely above a whisper. “I’ll leave tomorrow, I just needed some place to stay for the night”

“You’re brave, stepping into the house of an enemy” he starts and a smile teases at the corners of your lips.

“Barely” your shoulders curl in on themselves, “You’re more of a friendly foe in the grand scheme of things now”

“You thinking of quitting the union? They were never good for you anyways, always feeding you this richeous bullshit-“

“I have no choice but to leave”

Yoongi sits up at that, “Pardon?”

“If I ever step foot back in that building, I would never leave, and they’d probably display my head somewhere at the gates”

“What exactly did you do?”

You blink, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as your mind reels over how much you should share. You knew Yoongi would ask at some point, but you hadn’t exactly expected it to be so soon.

“Treason”

Yoongi barks out a laugh, “Treason?”

You nod, “We both know I hated it there”

“And you hadn’t thought to just leave?” He shakes his head, “They won’t stop until they kill you, you do know that right?”

“Of course. I know too much” you huff out a laugh, “If I let one little secret slip, then it’s all over for them. Some people would pay millions for this stuff”

“And you plan to sell it?” Yoongi sits on the edge of the couch now.

“Not unless I truly need to, I’ve shared enough for now. And the money I got is enough to keep me going for a while”

You can see the proud glint in Yoongi’s eye, scar cut across his face barely visible in the dim lamp light of his home.

“That’s bold. Even for me— I wasn’t sure if you had it in you”

You shake your head, “You had always said, You and I are more similar than we give each other credit for”

“You never fit in, in that shitty old hero’s union”

“I had never planned to stay forever”

“Why did you?”

Your head tilts slightly, eyes flitting to Yoongi’s mouth and then back up to his eyes, the faintest smile gracing your face as you wander into curious eyes, “That’s a secret”

You peer around his apartment, barely a home beyond the bare necessities. And you suppose for a man constantly moving to hide from people like yourself—or at least who you used to be, holding onto things would only ever weigh you down.

“Have you ever thought of travelling? Further than this town, better places” You meet Yoongi’s eyes, wondering if he can see the vulnerability radiating off your body in thick waves.

“I’ve considered it. Why?”

Your lungs are flooded with air, “What about—“ you scoot yourself closer to the edge of the couch, “What about us?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow, “Us?”

“Yes. I know technically we’re not friends, at least you might not think we are, but, what do you think about the two of us travelling? Together?”

“Would you like to know the truth?”

You hesitate to nod, wondering if this is where whatever you and Yoongi have sinks, tugging your heart along with it. And you can ffeel the dread bubbling inside of your chest.

“I only stayed here, because of you”

“Then, may I tell you my secret?”

Yoongi nods.

“I only stayed at the union because it gave me an excuse to come find you, as the one overseeing your file, it felt like the perfect excuse”

“And you hadn’t though to ask me if we could just, put our views behind us and be friends?” He asks, a laugh ready to drip off his tongue.

“First off, our views are very similar. It was extremely difficult to get into the union in the first place with all their morally right shit. Second, I could have sworn you didn’t like me”

“I never said that!” Yoongi points an accusatory finger at you, “So what’s our plan?”

Your eyes widen by a fraction, “Was it really that easy?”

“It’s not like I’m holding onto anything else here except you” he shrugs, “Why, having second thoughts?”

You shake your head, “No. Quite the opposite actually. I’m incredibly excited”

“A truce then?” He outstreches his hand for you to shake.

You gladly take it, “The start of a new team?”

“Of course” he laughs.

You push yourself to stand, slinking over towards Yoongi. You bend down, “And maybe something more” you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Gladly” he cups your cheeks, pulling you down until his lips pillow yours, and you're falling just that little bit faster for him.

☆ as always, feedback is appreciated. and thank you for reading!!

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #bts au fic #bts au #bts non idol au #bts au fanfic #yoongi x you #yoongi

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fairy-writes · 24 days ago

Note

Gratz to having 1.6k followers!! I'm a sucker for angst and I love this idea! I plan on submitting a second request right after this too!

May I request prompt #7 with the 11th doctor? I'd also like to have a pregnant female reader too if possible. If pregnancy icks you, then just a female reader is fine. Hurt me in the worst possible way. Please rip my heart out!

A SPOT OF TEA AND A CHAT

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: “Keep breathing, you’re doing great.”

Fandom(s): Doctor Who

Pairing(s): 11th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Mentions of Abortion, Panic Attacks, Angst to Comfort

Notes: This is more platonic than anything :) But I hope you like it nonetheless! (Also, sorry, my brain is being consumed by burnout, but I wanted to publish this before a whole year passed, so it’s not as sad as it would’ve usually been)

Make sure to read the tags!!

__________________________________________________________________________

The world was spinning even though you never moved from your spot on the bench. Your fingers trembled, and you dug them into your cranium with all your strength.

All the while, no one paid you any mind. Everyone passed you by, enraptured by their phone calls or conversations, to even notice you having a mental breakdown. You were convinced that no one even noticed you at all.

At least… until someone stopped.

Someone sitting next to you but not quite touching you yet. But that doesn’t change the fact that someone is there. Maybe they’re there to laugh, maybe cry with you, but there’s someone beside you, and you just have to look.

Floppy hair, a tweed suit, and a rather flamboyant bow tie; the man can’t be any older than yourself, but something in his green, green eyes screams that he is oh so old. When he notices you looking at him, he offers a hopeful smile.

“Pardon for bothering you, but I had to ask… Are you alright?”

Ah yes… The dreaded question…

But the one that broke the dam within you, and you promptly burst into tears.

This sent the man panicking. He jolted and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a sorry attempt at a one-armed hug. You take great heaving gasps as you try to regain a sense of calm.

“Keep breathing, you’re doing great. Just deep breaths. There you go, love.” He soothes and you find that he’s an excellent sort of rock. He grounds you with his touch, rubbing your arm up and down with hands that tell of a life on the run.

After what seems like an eternity, you finally manage to get your sobbing and gasping under control. The man pulls a handkerchief from his suit pocket and offers it, which you take gratefully.

“I’m sorry. It wasn't my intention to upset you even more.” He says, and you shake your head as you wipe your eyes.

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault. Just… Having a bad day, y’know?” You sniffle, and he nods like he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“I get that. Would you like to grab a spot of tea and talk about it? A friend of mine says that tea and talking usually help.”

You want to decline. You want to go home. But you know for a fact that if you go home, you’ll just wallow in self-pity until your boyfriend comes home.

And you can’t have that.

So you accept.

The mysterious man disappears for a hot moment before returning with two insulated cups of ginger tea. The earthy spice does wonders for your clogged sinuses, and you sip greedily despite it still being a tad hot to the tongue.

How he knew your exact tea order, you’d never know. Perhaps he just guessed. Maybe he was some sort of mind reader. You didn’t know and didn’t care.

“Now, what has you all worked up?” The man asks, and you cringe.

“Well… For starters… I’m pregnant.” He sits up ramrod straight, eyes wide and a delighted smile. “Well, congratulations!” He exclaims, and you flinch. Your flinching singlehandedly makes him deflate, and he speaks again in a softer tone. “You don’t want it?”

“My boyfriend doesn’t. He wants me to get an abortion.” You whisper, and the man puts his arm around you again.

“Do you want one?” At this, you can’t help but shrug.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want right now.” You feel the tears well up again and take a hasty sip of tea to help keep them at bay.

The man seems to know this and wraps his arm around your shoulders again.

“Y’know…” He starts, setting his cup down and rubbing his free hand on his pant leg. “Everyone has to make decisions in their life. Hard ones, too. But they need to make those decisions for themselves, not for anyone else. Sure, they can have other’s input, but overall, it’s their decision to make. And theirs alone.”

You nod along with what he’s saying. It makes sense. Perhaps he’s right…

“You know, I never caught your name?” You hesitantly ask instead of replying to his little speech, and the man beams,

“I’m the Doctor!” He chirps, and you frown,

“Doctor who?” His grin widens.

“Exactly!”

#11th doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #doctor who #11th doctor #the doctor #dr who x reader #dr who #fairy writes #fairy1.6kfollowers

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littleladymab · 10 months ago

Text

Still Waiting Duology (a wip intro for @moon-and-seraph's WORDS INTO POTIONS March event)

Genre: Fantasy (low fantasy, magic and second world, but only humans) Summary: After graduating from the country's most prestigious magical academy with no real interest in signing up for a tour of "border patrol", Cateryn drags her best friend and duel partner Jigar to tour the country with her -- hoping that maybe her restlessness will finally settle. She has no home to return to, and no idea of what a future is supposed to look like. When one year threatens to become two, they finally stumble upon three people whose struggles resonate with Cateryn's: Raif, who lost their father, their wife, and their future to one torrential storm and decided to leave home to save their mother the trouble of an heir who couldn't uphold the family name; Kira, a seer whose powers resulted in xir becoming a political prisoner when xir home was invaded; and Arris, Kira's husband who was helpless to save his employer and suffered at the hands of the occupying force before he could get himself and his spouse to freedom.

For the first time in a long time, Cateryn finds herself wanting to stay in one place and to open up to the people around her, even though Jigar thinks they should keep moving on. Because the two of them are destined for great things, he likes to say, but she knows what is best, and he's content to stay with her. Except for the past has a way of catching up with everyone, and they all find themselves dragged into political responsibilities as the neighboring country is getting agitated with an increasing number of border disputes, and rumors of something more than the usual bandits roaming the south.

And when Cateryn's past involvements with her father's spirit magic come back to haunt her, she has to decide if she wants to accept that part of her, or reject it and everything that comes with it before its too late. Etc: writing tag || pin board

My goal this month is to finish the outline for at least book 1 if not both books, and to GIVE IT A PROPER TITLE. And, between this and SD, hopefully write 4 chapters/about 10k.

Main Cast

Cateryn Caddis-Dowell (she/her); between 24/28; skilled at offensive/battle magic || playlist

Raif Van to Yuen-ha (they/he); between 28/32; dishonored heir to the Yuen-ha family; mediocre alchemist || playlist

Jigar Soru (he/him); between 26/30; skilled at defensive magic; "self-taught" spirit mage || playlist

Kira Dittmar (xe/xir); between 23/27; diviner/seer who would like to be retired || playlist

Arris Dittmar (he/him); between 29/33; sword for hire, just happy to be here! (he doesn't have a playlist yet I'm sorry)

Snippet

Raif didn’t even bother trying not to look miserable. If their mother wanted to make a spectacle out of their humiliation, then she’d have to do it with a sulking heir.

“Which part of this is the worst?” Cateryn asks, startling them out of their reverie.

“Pardon?” they ask in return, straightening their posture just a bit now that they’re the center of someone’s attention.

She gestures to the ballroom. “It’s the taffeta, personally. I am sweating like it isn’t the dead of winter in the north, and everyone can hear me from a mile away.” She says it low, conspiratorially, and they can’t help but laugh. “Ah, there it is.”

“The key to the taffeta’s undoing?” they whisper back, reaching out to ruffle her skirt. It whish whish whishes loudly beneath their touch.

“No, your smile.”

They snort into their wine glass. “Please, Cateryn, you don’t need to skulk about with me because you feel sorry for me.” It’s hard to keep the bitterness from their voice as they mirror her gesture towards the room. “My mother isn’t trying to humiliate you.”

They don’t mention how they noticed the way Aiden had been doting on her all evening despite this being a party for him.

“Is it wrong of me to want to keep you company?” she asks innocently. “You know, better yet, want to get out of here?”

Raif pauses with the wine glass against their lips. Leave the party early? Without saying hello, yes, I’m well thank you, yes I miss Linna and my father terribly but I’m sure Aiden will do a splendid job where I’ve failed as a child, but at least I don’t have to be my mother’s son anymore — Aiden can do that, to every one of Uyen’s friends?

The thought sends a frisson of rebellious delight through them, and they pass their half-finished glass to a nearby server. “More than anything,” they say, and Cateryn answers with a grin.

She takes their hand — in front of their mother, the family gods, and everyone — and tugs them towards the exit on the far side of the ballroom.

Uyen doesn’t call after them, but Raif can feel her disdain follow them into the hall.

#ms: wip intro #m+s: wip #still waiting #a lil miss original #lil miss writings #p much all the more recent stuff for this has been on patreon #so nothing really to see in the tag #I've committed too much to Raif's mom being named Uyen despite how i hate that it's Uyen Yuen

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monstersandmaw · 2 years ago

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Hey so genuine question (which I'm doing not on anon Incase you'd rather answer privately) and please pardon my ignorance but how does an aro/ace person like romance/smut let along create it? Like I know being aro/ace is lacking the respective attraction towards someone else specifically but wouldn't that still bleed over into media? Like I don't understand how you write romance but also don't like it yourself and I wanna understand haha

Hey, I don’t mind you asking, but thanks for understanding that not everyone would be happy to discuss it. I don’t pretend to be able to speak for everyone, obviously, and asexuality is a beautifully broad spectrum and people fit at different points along it, sometimes more than one at a time.

Asexual is not the same as aromantic (I know you’re talking about the ‘romance genre’ in general, but I figured I’d drop this in too). I’m not aromantic - I’m happily married and very soppily in love - but I am asexual so I’m not really interested in sex happening to me. Im not sex-averse, the way many aces are, but Im just not super bothered or interested in it happening to me. It’s akin to autochorisexuality, I suppose, which is a subset of the wider umbrella of asexuality. I’m not too fussed about labels for myself, so I just go with ace usually and leave it at that.

I enjoy reading stories which happen to have smut in because it is something the characters in the story want. They’re involved and enjoying it (at least in the stories I read) and I enjoy reading how they react to each other and to various sensations. AO3 is an absolute blessing because of its tagging and filtering system, because I have a lot of squicks when it comes to smut, and I also don’t tend to seek out stories that are just pwp one-shots. I need the characters to have some kind of connection before I’m interested in reading a smutty bit of their story. Again, this is similar to demisexuality.

I enjoy reading about how people feel when they’re being touched sexually, how they explore one another physically, how that brings them closer together, what it means to them etc. I like to equate it with reading about someone doing something like bungee jumping or flying a plane. I have no real desire to do it myself, but it’s fun and enjoyable for me to read about how they experienced it and what it felt like and how they felt about it. If that makes sense?

Tldr: I don’t enjoy all kinds of smut. There’s an awful lot of smut and erotica that I really super duper do not enjoy, and if you know my writing, you’ll know the kind of thing I am drawn to - tender, loving, with an underlying emotional connection between the characters, and all pretty vanilla really, I suppose.

I hope that helps explain a little about why I’m happy to write and read some smut, even though it’s not something I am interested in experiencing myself in my own life.

#asexuality #ace #asexual

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mrskodzuken · 3 years ago

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Spicy Chocolate

pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x f!reader

genre: smut (with fluff)

wc: 2.0k

tw/cw: 18+ MDNI, characters are AGED UP, porn with plot (cliffhanger* in the end), established relationship (Yuta and reader are married, househusband!Yuta), food play, use of pet names, slight dacryphilia (Yuta cries), m!receiving (oral, overstimming, edging); let me know if I missed something 🙇🏻‍♀️

a/n: for two of my beloved Yuta simps @mitsuyaya and @danibby ♥️ the househusband!Yuta agenda that Yumi fed me months ago lives rent-free again in my mind, thanks to @cirigiri’s Leaked Files collab (file no.10 - “Househusband makes a mess in the kitchen”). Thank you @tetsukentona @portfolio-of-dreams (another fellow Yuta simp) for beta reading this ilysfm mwah mwah tsup tsup ♥️ tagging @hanayanetwork

*will continue writing this in another post some other time (burnt out 💔), since there are points that still need to be tackled (especially the ✨thing✨ the reader wants to show to Yuta).

Want to be a part of my general taglist? Form link here.

It’s a nice Sunday afternoon, and a sweet and delicious aroma is wafting from inside the kitchen. A plate of fresh whole strawberries is placed on the table as Yuta gently stirs some melted chocolate in a saucepan over the stove, humming. You should be back around this time after meeting with Maki at the nearby coffee shop, he muses, blushing a little thinking about his lovely wife.

It still feels like yesterday, as Yuta glances at the cool silver band that’s sitting around his ring finger for six months now. A few years ago, Yuta met you through Maki, your childhood friend, who (together with Panda and Toge) then deliberately set the two of you up on a date. You two are compatible with each other: same interests, similar personalities, likes, dislikes… and soon after, you two become a couple and have dated ever since. Eight months later, he proposed to you in front of his and your friends and families while celebrating your birthday; the engagement lasted for two months, and the wedding that came after was very simple and intimate yet a memorable one for you and him.

“Yuta, I’m home~”

“Y/N, welcome home!” Your husband greets you with a smile in the entryway, wiping his hands dry with a table towel. “How’s your ‘date’ with Maki-san? Is she still as grumpy as ever?”

“What do you mean ‘date’? Silly Yuta~” You chuckle, placing your ankle boots properly before wearing house slippers. “And I’ll tell Maki you said that—“

What you see next as you turn around to face him makes your face go warm and your heart race fast. You take a deep breath while you glance at Yuta wearing your cute pink frilly apron that you’d ordered online. Your throat suddenly went dry.

“Cute…”

“Pardon?”

“T-That apron looks good on you, pretty boy. You’re so cute wearing my apron,” you say coolly, yet you can’t keep your cheeks from blushing; your hands start shaking also.

Yuta looks down, embarrassed and fidgety, and mumbles, “Please don’t say that—I-I’m a guy… you’re making me feel embarrassed, stop it!”

You slowly walk up towards Yuta, causing him to stumble a bit backwards and lean on the wall. “Why should you feel embarrassed, just ‘cause you’re a guy?” you whine, a pout forming on your lips, pinning him on the spot. “Do you… not like me telling you you’re cute?” You tilt your head sideways, looking at him.

Yuta’s heart throbs at the adorable sight that is you. He’s not the one you should be saying ‘cute’, but the other way around! He is a very lucky man to have a wonderful and adorable person like you as his wife, and he’s very thankful for that.

“I like it,” he whispers, locking eyes with you, as he caresses your cheek. Your husband then slowly leans down to you, his lips inches away from yours. “I really do. But I… should be the one saying that.”

You close your eyes, feeling his soft chapped lips meshed into yours, your tongues brushing and playing around each other. He tastes sweet, like chocolate, you think as you push yourself closer to him and tilt your head a bit, deepening the kiss.

A string of saliva connects between your lips, the two of you flushed red and breathing heavily. Yuta looks at you like a lovesick guy and smiles. “You’re so cute like this, Y/N. And I love that about you…” He wraps his arms around you and cuddles, gently stroking your hair with his hand. “I could get through the day just by hugging you, you know?”

“Yuta…!” Your cheeks feel hot after hearing that, so you bury your head into his shoulder, nuzzling your face at the crook of his neck. You don’t mean to but catch a whiff of chocolate through his clothes, the smell making you feel intoxicated as if you’ve drank alcohol. “You smell of chocolates, Yuu…,” you mumble, taking another sniff of the sweet aroma on his neck, your hot breath slightly tickling him. “So sweet… mm…”

He shudders, feeling something wet as you lick a spot. “Ah, t-that? Well, Panda-san and Inumaki-san came in for a short visit earlier and b-brought some strawberries while you’re—fuck!—while you’re out visiting Maki-sa—ngh!” Yuta feels your dainty hands brushing against his pants to and fro, gradually stimulating his bulging cock and prompting him to buckle his hips a bit, wanting for more friction. “Y-Y/N… stop…,” he bites his bottom lip, stifling a moan.

You continue on feeling him and licking stripes on his neck, not wanting to stop. His delicious taste, his sweet smell… all of Okkotsu Yuta is intoxicating. You are the only one who can make him go putty under your touch, as much as you are with him. A perfect match…

You slide a hand under his shirt and caress his strong built chest, lightly touching a nipple; Yuta’s body twitches at your touch. So sensitive…

“Ah… f-fuck, Y/N, please…” He thinks his legs feel as if they have turned to jelly, panting as your hands work quickly on him. “S-stop… it… ngh…”

You lick another stripe on his collarbone before sucking it hard. “Hm? You say something?” you hum, palming his now-tightening balls through his pants. He’s close… I can feel it through my hands.

“Y-Y/N… feels… feels so good—ah!” Yuta leans his head up on the wall, moaning and panting so lewdly. He places a hand on your shoulder for support and grips it a bit harder.

You look at him, smiling so deviously seeing his flustered sexy face. “Oh my darling Yuta… you should look at your pretty face,” you whisper in a sweet, hushed tone. “So erotic just from teasing and touching you.” You hover your lips close to his ear and lick his earlobe. “A-are you close?”

“So… close! I-if you continue on touching me any further, I might…cu-cum—”

“Okay~” You stop, retracting and raising your hands up away from him, before he could cum.

“—huh? W-what…” Yuta staggers a bit, his twitching thighs clenching hard. “Y/N, why—I’m so close to cum…!” He whines, tears start trickling down his cheeks. “Please let me cum…” He lets out a sniffle, which makes your heart feel a pang of sadness; you feel terrible for not letting him cum.

“I’m sorry, love…” You wipe his tears away with your thumb, and place a gentle kiss on his forehead before resting it on your own. “We can continue this later, okay? Please endure it for a little bit, like a good boy, and refrain your hands from touching it.” You smile genuinely at your husband, helping him stand up on his feet. “I-I’ll let you cum inside me as a reward, plus I have something to show you later… something that we can both enjoy,” you whisper into his ear, hot breath blowing through.

A sickly sweet grin forms on Yuta’s lips, thoughts of his hot white load dripping down your soft and sexy thighs making him shudder with delight. Something that we can both enjoy, huh… I wonder what that something is, he thinks as you both walk towards the kitchen, the bowl of strawberries and chocolate fondue waiting on the table.

– – – –

“Mmnh~”

Yuta’s cock throbs hearing your sweet moans while the two of you are enjoying your afternoon snack in the kitchen. He casts a subtle glance at you, who is sitting near him, licking chocolate off the strawberry you are currently eating like a lollipop, before looking away… flushed red from embarrassment. He’s dying to touch himself, to relieve the pent-up feeling leaking between his legs. You, on the other hand, know that he’s itching to jerk himself off, sending you surreptitious glances and silently begging you to let him cum; you enjoy teasing him though, given your husband’s current predicament, and love seeing his pretty face looking sexy and frustrated.

“Y/N…” your husband mewls, his head resting on the table facing you, his voice cracked and laced with want. “I wanna cum, please…? Let me cum…”

You look up at the wall clock hanging above the kitchen door. 20 minutes have passed, that should be enough for him to show some self-constraint. You dip the strawberry in chocolate sauce again and glide it through your open lips, lustful eyes looking at Yuta. “Do you really want to cum, pretty boy?” you ask, your hand traveling through his pants and forming small circles around his erection with your finger.

He hisses, quickly grabbing your wrist, and buckles up his hips in response. “I-I do, Y/N, please! Don’t… tease me—mnff!” You stuff the whole strawberry into his mouth, muffling his pleas; Yuta can taste a mixture of your saliva, strawberries and chocolate as you start to thrust it in and out of his lips.

You get a glimpse of drool seeping at the corner of his mouth as you continue on thrusting, and smile. “My naughty husband, his pretty mouth getting fucked on with a strawberry… how erotic~” you whisper breathily in his ear, pulling out the strawberry from his mouth with a loud pop! before finally popping into your own mouth. You chew it slowly, your hand cupping Yuta’s cheek, before feeding it to him with your lips in a deep kiss.

“You taste so sweet, like strawberries,” you say as you lick your lips clean after the kiss; your other hand, meanwhile, unties the knot on his pants before slowly lowering the waistband.

“Ah!” Yuta’s cock—fully-erect, its head an angry red-colored and leaking with pre-cum—hits his torso as soon as you pull down his pants halfway over his thighs, some of the pre staining his shirt. You bend down slightly near it and gently blow air on its leaking tip, making him shudder hard and curse under his breath. “Fuck…! No… don’t… I-I might cum if you do that again…,” he cries, whimpering and panting heavily on his seat.

You lightly trace a prominent vein on his length, feigning innocence, before taking its whole girth with your hand and stroking it at a painfully slow pace. “Huh? Yuu~ what’s this? I thought you said earlier you wanna cum? You’re contradicting yourself, you know…?” You let the tip of your tongue out of your lips and hover it above the cock head while your eyes are on your husband, wriggling it down until it touches the slit.

“Y-Y/N… no, I’m cummiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing—! Ngh!!!!!” White ropes of cum spurt high from the head, smearing your face and Yuta’s shirt and pants. Some of the cum had splatter over your hair and the tiled kitchen floor.

Chuckling, you swipe your lips clean of cum as you glance at your husband panting heavily after he came, hiding his flushed face behind his arm, away from your lustful stare. His body is still twitching from the stimulation yet the cock’s standing up, raging for more. You smile.

“...ngh! Fuck—!” Yuta suddenly curses under his breath, his hips jolting upwards, as he feels the warmth of your mouth slowly engulfing him inside. He flails both his hands in front and brings them above your bobbing head, pushing you away from his overstimulated cock. “Y-Y/N, stop… it’s too much, I-I just came…!”

You swat his hands away from your head while you continue on giving him head, his whining pleas getting painfully louder and lewder, making your thighs press together to ease the growing wet ache on your core.

“I’m… c-cumming again…,” Yuta tells you breathily, accompanied by a few loud moans. “I’m… cum...ming—“

You quickly grab his whole length by the base, tightening your grip a bit. You pull your lips away from your husband’s cock with a loud pop! before releasing it from your grip. “Don’t cum on my mouth yet,” you say, earning a whine from Yuta again.

You shyly stand up and strip yourself of your skirt and panties, exposing your wetness in front of him. You then get up and carefully straddle yourself onto his lap, your hand guiding his cock near your hot entrance.

“Didn’t I promise you earlier that I let you cum inside me?”

#📂 leaked files collab !#cw.food play #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuta x y/n #yuta x reader #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #okkotsu yuta smut #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #tks.dayo #takipnet #hanaya network #🐱saku.smut #🐱saku.fic

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 2 years ago

Note

Can you please write something where William is woken up from a nightmare, maybe about his past or about the betrayal, and had a panic attack or something, bur then his S/O is there to comfort him? Thanks 😁

Fluff! Oh this is so wonderful. I do hope that you like this! ^^

Pairing: William x gn!reader

Fanfic type: Oneshot

Genre: hurt comfort

Length: ~0.5k

Warning: a mention of blood, in a dream (depiction of fear of being hung), feeling of inability to breath (due to fear)

tag list for William: @prince-of-peacocks

Hands tied. His limbs felt heavy. Someone was speaking to him. A lot of people, in fact. But he couldn’t hear the words. And yet somehow, he knew what they were saying. Somehow, he knew that they were reading out his sentence, the wrong doings he had done.

And he knew that he was headed for the gallows. Though it wasn’t said, something in the room, told him about it. Spoke to him with wordless whispers.

The pardon was only temporary. It was just to grant us time for crafting a sentence.

And you shall pay for it with your life.

Your life.

The gallows.

Hung by the neck until dead.

He tried to wrestle his way free. Plea for his case. But he’s voice was stuck. Not a sound came out. It was as if muffled by the very air in the room.

He tried to think. How could he make them listen. Tell them that he had something to say.

Something wrapped around his neck.

‘Wait!’

Something tightened around his neck.

‘I need to-‘

The floor gave out under his feet.

William jolted awake in his bed.

His chest was heaving, trying to gasp for air. His body felt damp, sweaty. And his eyes stared to the sheets before him as he tried to swallow to ease his dry throat.

The tension of his muscles made him feel heavy, and the passing chills that licked his skin, made him shiver.

There were no thoughts, just the reflex of trying to breathe. Just his fingers clenching the fabric of his blanket. And just the sound of his blood rushing through his ears.

There was a faint weight on his shoulder. A soft gracing of skin against his, which made him turn his head to you, eyes shifting around, as if afraid.

“Did you have a bad dream?” You asked, your voice fluttering to him like a sacred promise of a new day rising.

His lips parted, only to close for and added second. Another moment to gather himself. Until he finally uttered out: “Yes.”

Your hand moved over his shoulder, rubbing him, gracing him as if trying to apply warmth to him. “You want to talk about it?” You asked, leaning closer.

But all he could do, was shake his head while mirroring your movements and leaning closer.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you assured him while wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your embrace.

He pressed his head against your chest, and focused on the beat of your heart, which seemed to push all the darkness in the world, granting him serenity, peace and salvation. That gentle rhythm, brought security to him. It allowed him to breathe. And warmth seep into his bones, his skin, his muscles… his entire being.

You both laid down, under the covers. His ear was pressed against your chest, still listening to the beating of your heart and the sound of you breathing. The melody that grounded him in place.

And little by little, a smile curled onto his lips.

#william x reader #william vangeance x reader #black clover fanfiction #black clover oneshot

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doderyscoffee · 3 years ago

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to paint a lover (teaser) | j.jh

as the oldest daughter of a high esteemed noble, your duty is to marry rich and continue the family bloodline. but you were never one for the status quo, and neither is the painter who only entered your life to stir up trouble.

PAIRING: painter!jung jaehyun x noble!fem!reader (ft. noble!kim dongyoung)

CHARACTERS: ft. nct and red velvet members

GENRE&AU(S): fluff, smut, angst, strangers to lovers, love triangle, forbidden love, one-sided love, slow burn, rococo!au, 1730s/18th century!au, painter!au, noble!au

WARNINGS: cheating, light manipulation, jealousy, possessiveness, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot, stalking/peeping tom, explicit smut, betrayal, running away, sexism, classism, body issues, mentions of fat shaming, more tba

LENGTH: 0.3k (teaser); 16k-20k (final product)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my teaser for @quokkacore‘s remember me for centuries collab! i’ve been really excited to write this as i am experimenting with a new writing style! i have never written a historical!au before, so please excuse any inaccuracies (see warnings). as per usual, please let me know if you enjoyed this snippet and send me an ask if you would like to be added to the taglist!

TAG LIST: @quokkacore @neowritingsnet @d1nne @honeyyypeach @yunodaze @neptuniees @pradastardust @donutswithjaminthemiddle @adorejaehyn @mark-lees-left-ear @ncteaxhoe @chezzontop @hwangful

“If I may inquire...” You took a step towards him. “... what are you painting?”

Jaehyun paused, and you snuck a glance at his nearly-done work. Blues, reds, and greens filled the canvas, creating an exact image of your family’s gardens, almost like a mirror. The people were right: Jung Jaehyun was brilliant.

“Something a lady wouldn’t like,” he finally said.

“I beg your pardon?”

He brought himself to meet your gaze. “I don’t mean to offend, Ms. Kim, but do you—and be honest—find an interest in our country’s history?”

“I—” you opened your mouth to respond, but quickly shut it, remembering that your pursuit of knowledge would most likely be frowned upon. “No, I do not.”

Jaehyun hummed. “I don’t think I believe you,” he said.

“And why is that?”

He leaned in closer to you, his face just a hair away, and his breath tickled your nose. The heat under your cheeks grew hotter, and you were sure you would need to douse your face with cold water before Doyoung arrived.

“A lady who reads is a lady who wants to know.” Jaehyun straightened himself, and it was as if you could breathe freely again.

“Mr. Jung, I find it fit to remind you that you should not do such things with a lady.”

He raised his brow. “Do what things, Ms. Kim?” The way he addressed you now felt like a mockery, and you dug your fingers into the fabric of your skirt.

“I am to be a married woman,” you said, and your heart grew heavy at the words. “It is inappropriate to be so close, and it would do you good to remember such.”

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sxtaep · 3 years ago

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INCOMPETENCY - JHS

must be nice sharing an apartment with your colleague after you’ve been on his case all day for fucking up at work.

pairing — hoseok x female reader

genre — angst, smut

word count — 2.7k

warnings/tags — *please note that this is all consensual. do not read if you’re uncomfortable with somnophilia* coworkers!au, roommates!au, dom!hobi, sub!reader, scolding, swearing, a hint of jealousy, explicit smut, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, spitting (yk saliva..), pussy slapping, finger sucking, the beginning of a blowjob

a/n: i’m so h word lmaooo!!! jackinthebox hobi hitting different 😩😩😩 part 2 maybe?

As you unlocked the door to your shared apartment, you trudged in with a scowl on your face, setting your bag down onto the table as Hoseok followed behind. Neither of you exchanged any words on the way home, and you wanted to keep it that way.

Just as Hoseok was about to lock himself in his room, you started talking, “What was going on with you today at work? You can be honest now since there’s no one else around,” you turn around to face the questioned man, arms crossed and tapping your heel against the floor.

The awkwardness was taking over. He looked back at you, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the growing heat, “Uh.. at work I get tensed up and you often make it more difficult with all the pressure.”

Hoseok looks up at you briefly, expecting to hear you throw a bunch of shit at him, but before you even got to that stage, he continued, “And then there’s that measurements system the company works with here that’s still a little difficult for my head to wrap around. I’m more used to my national standards, so it’s just weird around here.” With every word, he was growing a little more confident, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t shifting himself right now. “I would just.. greatly appreciate if you didn’t constantly pressure me, and the other employees for that matter.”

You could only scoff at his words. You weren’t that kind of colleague. You refused to be that kind of colleague. You were merely motivating them your way.. which consisted of a lot of rough language and maybe a few unsolicited, work-related threats.

You cleared your throat and took a few steps towards him. “I understand that you came from abroad, but international or not, you’re meant to know every measurement system by heart, since this company is global. It’s one of the requirements needed to get the role.” You were trying to be smart, trying to find every possible way you could one-up on him by spewing out complete bullshit at this point. “Ha, who did you fuck to get this job?”

It was a strong claim you were making, and you knew Hoseok wasn’t interested in that stuff. The guy literally lived and breathed work.

“Excuse me?” he spoke up, his tone a little more stern than before. Did you really think he was that incompetent he couldn’t get a job through normal means? That the only way he could ever be successful was by getting into someone’s pants?

It was no lie that Hoseok was a desirable man within the workplace; with him working under you, you noticed many hungry eyes that would follow him down the corridors, in the cafe, in his shared office. But you hated it, because someone would always come up to you, asking about his relationship status only because you lived with him. It was exhausting having to refuse 10 girls a day asking for his number.

“I have the required qualifications and a degree in data analysis. That’s how I got the job. I’m sorry you can’t seem to understand, but I’ll let you think what you want.”

It was clear this dilemma was no longer a professional matter. It was off the job hours, and neither of you were on company property. Did it matter how far you went with your comments?

Of course it did. Hoseok was still your friend.

He continues, “If I were to fuck anyone above me for this job, I’m pretty sure I would’ve fucked you by now.”

“I beg your pardon?” You knit your eyebrows at the lean man, seemingly mad but really, you were just trying to fight the urge to let your eyes dip down his suited body.

Hoseok merely dismisses you, turning the knob of his bedroom door, “I’ll work on it tonight and fix it by tomorrow.” And then he disappears behind the door, leaving you to stand there alone, your growing pile of insults only towering on top of one another with nowhere to go.

“I— fuck..” You groan and ball your hands into tight fists, “Fuck you, Jung Hoseok!” you shout, flipping him off with your middle finger. You didn’t know if you were cussing him out as your colleague, roommate, or friend, but all you knew was that you needed to call it a day. The day so far was stressful and exhausting enough, you didn’t need Hoseok to add more to your stress when you were literally in your own home.

You snatch your bag off the counter and storm into your room, making sure to slam the door shut extra loud (loud enough for him to hear) before throwing yourself front-first onto your bed.

For the remainder of the day, Hoseok was glued to his laptop, Excel opened on half of his screen and another tab on the other half showing him the correct measurements he should’ve used first time around. His mistakes were pretty deep, so he scrapped the whole spreadsheet and created a new one from scratch; this time ensuring he used the correct formulas and such so as to not have a repeat of this morning.

He spent hours trying to perfect it, and when he was done, he attached it to your work email address, double checking your status before actually sending it through.

Offline (5 hours)

Good. It meant he could relax a little before you got the chance to scold him for messing up again.

He finally got out of his desk and left his room, with the sole intention to get something to eat, but actually, he hadn’t heard from you since you got back. Normally you’d be screaming your head off on the phone, arguing with someone over purchase orders and invoices, but Hoseok’s ears were met with silence.

He may hate you right now, but he was still a little concerned about you, so he stopped his journey to the fridge and instead made his way to your room, noticing your bedroom door was slightly ajar and the room was dark. Forming a hook with his index finger, he’d knock on your door softly, cautious to not wake up the beast within you (he had the bitter experience of dealing with your moody attitude when you didn’t get enough sleep).

When there was no response from inside, he slowly pushed the door wide open, giving himself room to lean against the door frame as your body soon came into sight. Hoseok stared at you for a minute, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes scanned you up and down. You looked so peaceful; the complete opposite of how you were a couple hours ago and he wondered why you couldn’t be like this more often.

The prettiest.

You were fast asleep on your side, still clad in your work clothes but having already ditched your blazer on the chair by your desk. Your skin tight skirt was partly rolled up your thighs, giving him the perfect view of your pretty panties sitting between your legs and he wondered just how often you rocked up to work like that.

It wasn’t his place to judge though, nor was it his place to gravitate towards your bed, but he was doing it anyway.

“Fuck…” he curses under his breath, diverting his eyes elsewhere, but he always found them landing on you.

Before you were his superior, you were his friend and his roommate. Right now, he just wanted to deal with you.

His way.

Hoseok found himself kneeling on your mattress, his ears picking up on your steady breathing. It was almost silent but he knew you slept like a rock in general, so he had nothing to worry about.

He ran his fingertips along the curve of your body, being extremely subtle with his touch to not wake you up. He waited for you to ease up a little before hooking his finger under the hem of your skirt, pulling it up gently to bunch at your hips so he could set his palm on the flesh of your ass. With his thumb spreading you apart, he had a front row view of your soiled panties practically glued to your heat and he had to resist the urge to groan.

You had to be dreaming. You couldn’t be this wet over nothing.

Hoseok shifted your underwear to the side and almost salivated at the sight of your stripped cunt from behind, glistening in all its glory and he couldn’t wait any longer; finally closing in on the gap between you two and landing a long, needy lick against you, then running the tip of his tongue up and down between your folds until he was forced to stop.

Your legs were closing in on his face and as much as he hated the idea of it, he tore himself away to look up at you; still fast asleep, yet you’re once soft features now looked tense.

Why weren’t you waking up?

To make things a little easier for himself, he placed his hand over your hips, turning you over to lie on your back (which was too easy) so he could be met with you sound asleep; silk blouse slipping down your shoulders, all creased. Your cleavage was peeking out from under the silk material with the added hint of lace accompanying.

He cursed under his breath and diverted his attention to the mess between your legs, leaning in to place a small kiss over your clit before his tongue lapped at your folds. He didn’t miss the way your breathing had quickened and your body shuddered, and it all felt like a dream to you.

A dream you refused to wake up from.

From your bodily reactions, Hoseok could tell you were left absolutely starved. With the role you had, he doubted you had an output for your needs. Maybe he could ease some of the stress for you so he wouldn’t need to deal with your sour attitude once you wake up.

“Cute..” he mutters to himself, trailing his index finger between your legs, spreading your folds apart to blow lightly against you.

You started shifting against the bed, unknowingly edging your hips closer towards him, and it startled him for a second when his finger ‘accidentally’ dipped inside you, earning a breathless sigh from you.

Just that triggered Hoseok to latch his mouth onto your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking harshly whilst his finger disappeared inside you, enveloped nicely by your soft walls as your quiet moans filled his ears.

“Oh, God.. Hobi…”

Hobi.

Shit, it was the hottest thing he’d ever heard you say, and it drove him mad, now flattening his tongue against your drenched folds as his nose budged at your clit. His finger was pumping in and out of you at a slow pace at first, but once he added a second finger, his pace was ungodly, it left you writhing.

Hoseok licked up all the juices that continuously seeped out of you whilst your mind became a haze. The air surrounding your sleeping body grew hot within a couple minutes and suddenly this dream was feeling a little too real. You were so sensitive, and it was something your fellow roommate wasn’t expecting, and normally he’d go easy, but after the way you treated him today? Easy was not an option. Not when you were dreaming about him with your pussy all out in the open.

“More.. more, more…” you chant softly to yourself, your eyelids momentarily opening only to close shut again as soon as he forcefully gripped your hips with one hand to pull you towards his mouth, giving him the room to leisurely lick upwards as a stream of your arousal connected the both of you.

Both his digits would swim inside you, copping a feel of you clamping down on him greedily. “Like this, huh?” he questions, feeling around your tight pussy in slow circles whilst kissing at your inner thighs.

The gesture was soft enough to wake you up; eyes fluttering open to look down at your coworker with his head between your legs. He expected you to kick him in the face, but the soft pout on your lips said otherwise.

“Hoseok.. what—?”

He spat down onto your cunt, watching the glistening substance trickle down your slit before attaching his mouth around your swollen nub, forcing you to whimper. The last thing he wanted was for you to scold him and he couldn’t take you seriously in this state.

“I think we’ve established our dear Miss L/N, likes getting her pretty pussy ate, when she’s not breathing down our necks,” he teases, plunging two digits into your gaping hole and watching your body jerk at the impact. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

The satisfaction was overwhelming for you, having just woken up and still trying to adjust your sight by blinking a couple times, but did you really wanna see the mocking faces he was making at you? You already knew it was Hoseok from all the rings on his fingers glimmering from the light coming through the doorway.

“God, yes..” you breath out, adjusting your position to prop yourself up on your forearms, your eyebrows knitted together and bottom lip all swollen from how hard you were biting down on it.

“You gonna fire me for this, Y/N?” A low chuckle is heard from the pits of his throat as Hoseok withdrew his fingers from inside you, delivering a harsh smack to your oversensitive cunt, and before you could release a cry, he was lying on his side beside you with an arm propping him up, whilst the two fingers that were drenched in a mixture of saliva and slick delve into your mouth in a bid to shut you up.

You didn’t have the powers to fire him (not that you’d want to if he kept treating you like this), God knows you were shamelessly enjoying yourself.

“D’you think I’d get a promotion for this? For getting my hands on my superior and treating her desperate pussy the way it deserves to be treated?” Hoseok’s eyes lingered down to your flushed cheeks and teary eyes, pushing his fingers further into your mouth as your lips wrapped around his long digits.

You did a poor job at avoiding making a mess, drooling down the base of his fingers until the substance dripped down your chin, making it even more difficult for you to respond.

Hoseok revelled in watching you struggle. It made the blood rush to his cock faster than he anticipated and he made sure to rut himself against the side of your hips. “I’ve been up all fucking night doing some bullshit spreadsheet for you, and look where it got me,” he seethes, annoyance gripping at his tone as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, leaving you a heaving, gasping mess.

You barely had any time to catch your breath before Hoseok climbed on top of you, cupping your jaw and forcing you to look up at him.

“You gonna apologise for earlier?”

“No.” You had nothing to apologise for. Hoseok fucked up, and that was on him. You were merely disciplining him for his incompetence. If he couldn’t handle a scolding, then what the fuck was he doing in this company?

“No?” he repeats your words, now squeezing your cheeks together and leaning down to ghost his lips over your pouty ones. “I know women like you don’t just give out apologies. I’m tired of your shit, so I’ll make you apologise.”

“I don’t need to apologise to you!” You felt much more awake than you were before, and you cocked a challenging brow at him, a little startled when he climbed on top of you, fiddling with the fly of his creased dress pants so he could pull his cock out to let himself dangle above your face.

You didn’t expect him to be so… big, and it looked like Hoseok noticed the first round shock on your face and he chuckled, holding his heavy cock in his hands as he edged his bulging tip towards your lips and almost forcing himself past to watch you earnestly take his cock like he dreamed.

“Better put that mouth of yours to good use, or I’ll end up fucking you raw.”

perm taglist: @aliceaflor5-blog @kookiecrumb @jjkeverlast @prettyghost @kooliv @koobsessed @gimmethatagustd @pb-n-juju @aslias17

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

Text

Accelerate [Dana’s 600 Special]

Track: Feel It by Michele Morrone / Drunk-Dazed by ENHYPHEN / Insanity by THE BOYZ

Member: I swear he’s not even my bias

Genre: i-ion know-

Word Count: it’s pretty damn long so please don’t make me write a part two

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @lsangyeons

The first time you laid eyes on Lee Hyunjae, you were both in Italy as he was being blinded by a billion flashes in his face. The light reflects off his dark hair - which was once a brighter color - as he maintains that polite, miniscule smile on his face. Most of the photographers and interviewers were male, for the sole reason that female photographers and interviewers would be too stunned to continue at their job.

Not that the males rushing to get a shot of his face or a string of words out from him now weren’t stunned themselves.

Despite being hailed for looking like every woman’s wet dream, Lee Hyunjae was more known for being South Korea’s youngest first class F1 racer. Sure, if he ever bothered to utter a single syllable of speech to you, you could pass out on the spot.

But right now, all you wanted was to get an exclusive modelling contract from Louis Vuitton to his manager. Not Lee Hyunjae, not his bodyguards, his manager.

“Lee Hyunjae! Do you have anything you want to say before your final race of the season? How do you feel about being so close to coming out top?”

His manager stands a step behind him to Hyunjae’s right, and gives the racer the green light to respond. The flashes and sounds of clicking from the cameras were so overwhelming, it’s impossible for you to even imagine how it felt like being in the spotlight.

But the celebrity couldn’t receive the question any less gracefully, and offers one of those swoon-worthy smiles before leaning into the microphone.

“I feel nervous but I’ve prepared for this. Consistency is key and I believe in myself, so if that answers your question...”

“Do you have any other plan other than racing? Word has it that you’ve received offers to be the face of Gucci and Louis Vuitton!”

The contract in your briefcase is still ironed out safely in its file when you pull it behind your legs, away from plain sight.

Hyunjae turns to look at his manager when the question posed obviously isn’t one of those in the list prepared, so the manager steps forward, and coincidentally spots you at the back of the crowd. He recognises you from the meeting he had with your higher-up.

“My apologies but Mr Lee isn’t permitted to answer to any of these, so if this is all then we must be going. Thank you for coming to the conference tonight.”

Lee Hyunjae and his manager step back away from the microphone and bow for the press to continue their aggressive, merciless snapshotting. You wait patiently for the duo to disappear behind the conference area, and for the press to switch their attention to the pictures they have on their camera before you make your round backstage.

The 5-star hotel is grand in all the ways possible: chandelier, white wines and champagnes being served in waiting areas and water was served sparkling. Finally fishing out the tag that you were given at the registration for entry to the event, you hand it to the lady at the meetings’ conference registration counter.

You wonder how the Louis Vuitton logos on your clothes and briefcase had gone unnoticed earlier at the showcase. Even on the tag, the ‘LV’ logo was so apparent. How far does the company need to go in order for them to have the logo printed in some shiny, golden print on the tag-

“Welcome to the F1 internal press conference and meeting, Miss l/n!” She pulls a sticker off a page and presses it onto the tag below the LV logo. “If you need anything at all, please just approach one of our staffs. All waiters and staff concerned will have a red tie tonight.”

“Alright, thank you,” The tag gets slid across the table to you. “Where’s the nearest washroom?”

“Oh, she’ll show you the way,” The lady gestures behind her for one of the staff members with a red tie to accompany you.

“Oh-” Slightly taken aback by the aggressive escorting, the younger female grins at you before holding out her arm in the direction of the washroom. “Thanks.”

The hotel’s grandeur only gets more and more apparent as your heels click through the hallways and corridors. For an event night, the hotel’s pretty desolate. Then again, the press conference happened outside where all the photographers and journalists were. The one you were here for was an internal press meeting, and last you checked, there were fewer than 10 names on that list.

“I can find my way back to the main hall after,” The slight panic in your voice humors you when the staff member seemed ready to wait outside the washroom. “Thanks.”

She bows and takes her leave only after you enter the bathroom; you can tell from the sound of her shoes echoing down the corridor. The scent of lavender is so overwhelming, you could almost taste it. Walls of cream and silver strokes cut through the tiles, a vase made of bronze sits in the corner of the platform where the sinks were, filled with roses.

The crisp reflection of yourself stares down at you in the mirror; it’s one of the few times you were dressed in branded goods head to toe. None of the articles of clothing you were wearing right now, you owned. Usually, you’d be gaping in awe at how beautiful these places where - after all, you were in a five-star hotel in Italy.

But no, after almost five years of working with Louis Vuitton as a brand ambassador and subsequently becoming an assistant model-scout has numbed your habit of wandering eyes.

The LV briefcase gets set on a dry area of marble, your fingers automatically clutching the edges of the sink as the jewelry on your ears, neck and hands twinkle under the fluorescent lighting. The makeup looks close to perfect - because someone had done it for you. Your clothes and shoes fit right down to your skin - because they were tailored for you.

You were more upset you couldn’t sell it off and donate the money over having actual ownership of these fabrics.

News of the orphanage had reached you hours after you touched down in Italy, and your heart yearns to stop the ache that seeps through you. They had run out of funds to continue the orphanage, the kids already enrolled would be split and sent to other organizations instead.

What you had once called your home was going to be non-existent in another years’ time. Those whom you called your teachers, mentors, parents... were going to be in places you were not familiar with. The children that you always bring back food, clothes and toys for were going to be separated into different cities and states. As if not having a family was not bad enough, the people you now called your family was going to be split apart.

You hadn’t noticed your eyes were closed until you opened them, the weight of the makeup on your face urging you to rub your eyes and skin but the discipline written into your hands stop you from doing so.

Standing back to fix your posture, your eyes land on the one garnish on your body that doesn’t belong to Louis Vuitton - the ring on your middle finger. A gold band that looked more like a wedding ring than anything else.

It had the name of the orphanage engraved on the inner side, so it feels lighter on your hands than it would otherwise be.

A deep breath expands your chest as you take your briefcase and step away from the sink, attention scrutinising yourself more than you actually would.

The corridors of the hotel collect you back into its wealth again, drawing the thickest line between the realities of people like you and those who enjoy the luxurious life.

The racer’s manager was sitting at the end of the meeting table when you enter, and you immediately recognise half the list of names you had seen before. Gucci’s manager was here personally. Another racer and his manager were here too. Stefano Domenicali and Michael Masi were here.

Why were they here? Their names weren’t on the list.

“Ah, Miss l/n!” Masi gets off his seat and holds out his hand. “Such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Honor on my part,” Reaching out a palm, you smile the most graceful smile you can find in the muscles of your face.

“Can I get you a drink? We’re still waiting for Mr Lee before we begin our discussion on the collaboration.”

Collaboration?

“Pardon my ignorance but... I thought I was here for a sponsorship or a model-contract request for Mr Lee... I wasn’t expecting your attendance or... a collaboration.”

Domenicalli chuckles heartily at his seat as he whirls around to gesture to one of the staff members in the room. “Will you get her a Mojito?”

Then he stands up and pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. “We’ve been looking for a company that’s willing to do a three-way partnership with us and Mr Lee’s agency. Right now, it’s boiled down to both Louis Vuitton and Gucci so... it depends on which contract Mr Lee’s agency is more interested in.”

“Oh... Um, if that’s the case then I’m not entirely sure if the contract I have with me right now is appropriate-”

“Oh, it’s not. LV has already told us you’d sell them better unscripted than if planned,” Masi leans forward and mutters away from your ear. “Don’t tell Gucci though. Their manager’s only here because they panicked.”

He pulls away and before he can say anything else, the door clicks open with a staff member pushing the door open for the star of the night.

“My apologies,” He’s changed out of his formal suit and is in a more comfortable set of hoodie and baggy pants now. “Did I keep everybody waiting?”

“No, not at all!” Masi throws his hands up into the air and beckons you to meet Lee Hyunjae. “Might I introduce... Miss l/n from LV. She’ll be the one pitching the collaboration for LV today.”

Hyunjae’s eyes are wide and clear, despite his fringe covering his eyelids. “My pleasure,” He holds out his hand and you take it to shake, but he doesn’t stop there.

Lifting the back of your hand to his lips, the contact is soft and gentle on your skin.

Your hairs stand against your will and goosebumps erupt all over your neck when he pulls away, eyes now locked with yours. Nobody else in the room bothers to provide a reaction - it’s like he’s done this before and it’s perfectly normal.

The rest of the evening is spent listening to your own pitch, and Gucci’s, but you couldn’t really keep your head in the game when... all that was in Lee Hyunjae’s head was... you.

You’d be lying had you said you were comfortable with how much he was glancing at you across the table, obviously not listening to Gucci’s pitch at all. His manager was the one busy jotting down all kinds of things, almost like it was an act of dictation. But the racer’s eyes fail to leave you for any longer than five seconds, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that he wasn’t really paying attention to the pitch.

Gucci’s pitch finally finishes, giving you some kind of escape because now his manager is pummeling him for not listening to the benefits provided as Gucci’s ambassador. The contract document from LV was sitting before you, very single term and condition now inapplicable because you had just pitched something that wasn’t in the instruction manual.

God help me not to get fired.

“Mr Lee has some to a decision,” Masi claps his hands together, earning the attention of everybody in the room. “The Formula One federation would like to officially welcome Lee Hyunjae as the brand ambassador in a stellar collaboration... with Gucci.”

The Gucci ambassador scout smiles with triumph as the room provides a round of applause, you included.

“Thank you so much, Miss l/n, for coming down. Your pitch was nothing short of commendable and I will make sure your manager will hear of that, alright?” Masi and Domenicali take turns shaking your hand. In your peripheral vision, you watch the Gucci ambassador shake hands with both Lee Hyunjae and his manager.

Masi and Domenicali finish up with you, and Lee Hyunjae’s manager approaches you for the handshake with his client behind him. “That was a stellar... impromptu pitch, Miss l/n.”

A gentle chuckle rolls off your tongue as you pull your hand away, tightly clutching the briefcase. “I work better when things aren’t planned, so...”

“We’ll... we’ll keep in touch, LV. You’re an excellent scout with marvelous presentation skills. It makes me sad Mr Lee didn’t choose you.”

Your eyes drift to Hyunjae’s and he’s already looking at you like he hadn’t eaten in three days and you were a bowl of soup.

“Of course we’ll keep in touch. He’ll still be valuable asset and ambassador after his contract with Gucci ends,” Ignoring him, you return your attention to his manager.

“Now, let’s hope the Prince of Korea doesn’t screw anything up, yeah?” His manager grins as he pats Hyunjae on the back. “Anyway, it’s been a mighty pleasure. We’ll be in touch.”

You lower your head as a small nod, turning on your heels to exit the room. Even then you can feel his eyes on your back.

By the time you’re back in your hotel room (which was in the same hotel as you had the internal meeting), your feet are half dead from the heels you were wearing and the makeup on your face was starting to wear off. It took a nice, warm bath and a rather long conversation with your own manager on the phone as he congratulated on pulling through an impromptu pitch.

He finally finishes, and you drop your phone into the towel by the bathtub as the steam fogs up the mirror. But your peace is cut short when someone rings the doorbell of your room.

“Room service for Miss l/n!”

Tightening the robe around your waist, you pull open the door and watch the hotel staff hold out a bottle of wine and an envelop. “Mr Lee Hyunjae sends his regards, Miss.”

Surprised, you receive the bottle. The hotel staff bows and leaves, letting you turn around and the door click shut.

To: Miss l/n

I apologise for the inappropriate staring earlier this evening. This is an attempt to compensate for my behaviour. I’ll be leaving Italy the day after tomorrow so if you could do me the pleasure of having dinner with me tomorrow... I’d like to be acquainted.

I’ve made a reservation at La Terrazza for 7pm. I’ll meet you in the guest lobby downstairs at 6.30 to pick you up.

Love,

Lee Hyunjae

You can see how the material of the paper trembles a little between your fingers. The thought runs, So he’s a creep and a national treasure. He can’t hurt you, right?

Again, the evening gown is more than fitting on you. It’s been tailored to hug all your curves at your chest and your hips and thighs and it exposes your leg where the slit is. It’s like LV knew you had an important evening appointment coming up and had you pack all these different sets appropriate for the event.

The usher standing by the guest lobby nods when you head for the door, and he pushes it open to reveal only one person in it: Lee Hyunjae.

On the phone, he whirls around when he hears the doors swish against the carpet flooring. His eyes are glimmering under the soft, rosy lighting and the glossy collar of his suit looks like plastic from the reflection.

“I gotta go, I’ll call you back.”

The phone clicks to black before he opens his blazer and slides it into his inner breast pocket.

“I’m gonna guess that’s your manager,” Your fingers wrap around the clutch tightly as he takes a few steps toward you, obviously very stunned by how different you looked compared from the previous day.

“Uh, no, actually,” That million-dollar smile gleams at you. He reaches up to his forehead and scratches his brow. His hair is styled upwards so seeing the glory of his forehead was pretty enticing. “My mom. Making sure I’m doing well and fine here.”

He stops a safe distance away from you, finished with taking in whatever of you his eyes and memory can allow him. “Not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna stand me up.”

“I think LV would fire me if they knew I stood the Lee Hyunjae up.”

Hyunjae licks his lips then purses them together, attention finally peeling off your face as he reaches for your hand. He presses his lips into the back of your palm, then casually hooks your arm around his while he walks to your side. “Ready to go?”

At a loss of words for his flirtatious mannerism, all you can afford is a nod.

But as if your vocabulary bank wasn’t already exhausted, you can’t help but stare in complete astonishment when you are led to the matte black Sian Roadster already waiting at the drop-off point right outside the lobby.

“Have them send the Dior package to Miss l/n’s room by 9pm,” He instructs the bell boy by the hotel entrance as he reaches for the vehicle door.

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, Mr Lee.”

“Thanks.”

“Wait a minute,” Your vision is finally peeled off the car when Lee Hyunjae pulls the door open. “What Dior package?”

“Just a token of appreciation from me, that’s all,” He releases your arm as he guides you into the vehicle. “I knew if I gave it to you over dinner, you’d reject, so...”

Twitching his eyebrow, he smirks and retreats, closing the car door.

Flirt.

The vehicle moves off with a sharp rev of the engine, and you almost feel guilty for being able to be comfortable in in your clothes, shoes, sports car and on the way to a fancy-ass restaurant.

If only things could be like that for everybody and everything.

“So, when are you leaving Italy?”

“Oh, um... tomorrow too actually,” Rome’s lights are wondrous on the outside, some of them blinding you. “I have... something to attend.”

“Hmm, that’s... vague.”

You turn to eye him at his silent call for clarification. “I’m attending a closing event; help out with administrations.”

“Like... a pet store or something?”

“Yeah, ‘or something’.”

“That confidential, huh?” He lets out a soft chuckle.

The gut in your abdomen tells you not to look at him. He’ll see right through you, figure out that there’s something more to it than something ‘confidential’.

“Yeah,” You mask it with a sigh. “Funds and things.”

You can feel his attention sink into your back as silence befell the atmosphere.

There’s a kind of light in his eyes when he talks about racing. When he’s describing the feeling of adrenaline in his fingers, gripped around the steering wheel. He’s unexpectedly kind to the service at the restaurant, then again he was a celebrity and he had a reputation to uphold.

It’s the kind of light that made you panic throughout dinner, because there’s no way this specimen of a man would ever pay you a second thought. Maybe you were going to be his Italy fling that he would boast about to his friends and colleagues and they’d laugh at you without you even knowing.

What was a rich, handsome racer even doing, single? It was too good to be true, and even if it was, you? Of all people?

Dream on.

“It’s been... an amazing night. Thank you so much for dinner.”

Lee Hyunjae walks you into the lift, letting you press the button to your floor first.

“I’ll walk you back. I have time.”

Standing with your feet together, in the safety of your gown, your hands are holding your clutch like your life depended on it. You could tell that he wasn’t the most comfortable now, not with his hands over one another and placed politely on his abdomen.

When the lift door dings open, the silence remains. He trails behind you as you walk your way to your room, hands fumbling through your clutch to search for your keycard. The slick of the door is fast and you push the door open, with a black and silver box with the label ‘DIOR’ printed on it sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Oh, my God!” You rush in and grab the box, eyes widening as you turn to him, who has one arm extended to keep the door open. The box was almost as big as a pillow.

There’s a soft, warm smile on his face. A stark contrast to all his flirty ministrations throughout the evening. “Goodnight, Miss l/n. Sleep well and have a safe flight.”

“Wha-” Then he lowers his head, and turns around. “Wait!”

Without another moment of hesitation, he disappears down the corridor and the door swings shut.

It feels ironically empty. Your hands are carrying this Godforsaken box of a gift and yet you cannot think of a way to properly thank the person who gave it to you. With slight reluctance, your fingers find the edge of the cover.

It’s a beautiful Dior blazer, packaged with a perfume and a cosmetics set. The cream letter in it is handwritten and signed the racer himself.

I wish we had more time. Love, Lee Hyunjae

The nauseating sensation of your heart sinking in your chest beats all the logic in your brain when you find yourself reaching for the door handle. The box is mindlessly thrown back onto the bed as you rush out, kicking off your heels in the moment of folly. (Of course, remembering to use the door latch to keep the door open.)

“Hyunjae!” You call down the corridor, and he was just about to enter the lift. He turns, providing you with a gorgeous view of his jaw.

It feels like a fairytale, when you run down the carpeted corridor, barefooted and still in your gown. The urge to throw your arms around him far supercedes your brain yelling at you not to, but you do it anyway.

He catches you by the waist as your rest your forehead in his blazer, arms already struggling to meet the height of his shoulders.

A whisper. “I wish we had more time too.”

He pushes you back by your upper arms, tucking one bit of your hair behind your ear. “If time is what you want, then I’ll make time.”

“But... I- Will you get in trouble?”

He looks you dead in the eye and subtly shakes his head.

Time stops.

Fear. That’s what you’re feeling.

Then he tilts his head and slowly leans in.

“I don’t think I’d care if I do.”

His breath hits your upper lip and your instincts flutter your lids shut.

White wine and strawberries from dinner. That’s what he tastes like.

Warmth radiates off his palms and into your cheeks as he holds your face close to his, unable to resist the satisfaction and sweetness you were providing him. In this moment of intimacy, he loses all sense of realism and urgency - all he wants is you to himself, for the rest of the night until the sun rises.

Then he’d have to worry about never seeing you again because his manager had chosen Gucci over LV.

But right now, he has your heart and soul in his hands, as does his in yours.

Being the romantic and (probably) egoistic man of a celebrity he is, he lowers himself and slides his arms where the back of your knees would be, somehow never breaking the kiss. The material of the gown dribbles over the cotton of his suit and your arm circles behind his neck, only minimizing the distance between the two of you.

It feels like you’re getting married in this black and gold sparkly evening gown when he pushes the door open with his back. The scent of the room is inviting, but definitely none in comparison to the scent of his cologne beginning to stain your hands and your clothes.

Gently resting you into the cool sheets of the bed, he pulls away to remove the Dior package off the bed, placing it on the mini coffee table by the bed.

You were never one to deal with one night stands. Hell, the only person you’d ever slept with was some stupid kid back in the orphanage when your stupid teenage hormones were running-

He pulls off his blazer and leans in again, picking your awkward hands and resting them on the knot of his tie. His fingers are grazing the skin on your upper arm, trailing down to your cheek and then your hairline where he combs his hands through your hair.

The knot on the tie comes undone with some slight tugs, and you slide it out from under his collar. Undoing only the first one, you rest your palms against his chest, creating a small rift where the air rushes to your lips where his should be.

He’s slightly stunned at the slightest breakage, but he is overwhelmed with more care and concern than he was upset. “Why? What’s wrong?” He traces your jaw and rests his fingers on your chin, noses almost touching.

“Are you sure... You want to do this? I can’t risk you losing your career,” Your index finger traces the likes of his cheekbone. “You barely just started.”

Hyunjae shakes his head subtly, taking your hands to his lips and pressing them into the back of your palm. “When I saw you in that room, I was... star struck. You’d think being the celebrity in the room would mean everything, but I felt like I was nothing if I didn’t know you, much less be able to get close to you.”

And for someone who hasn’t really had a biological family to love, his words stuck.

“I just... knew. There are some things in the world you can work for, but I don’t think any amount of effort can give me you.”

His brown orbs find your gaze and it melts you thoroughly. Like ice cream on a hot day; like the way the ocean washes against the sand by the beach, taking grains of sand away with it - the same way Hyunjae was winning you bit by bit, if not already all of you.

Your hands find his collar again, and it tightens around the stiff material to pull him back down. He smiles into the kiss, hands pressing into the mattress by your hair while you undo the rest of his buttons. His skin is hot under the shirt, blood running on the adrenaline and tension he was riding on from the intimacy. Muscles pumped and heart racing, you finally get his shirt off and he does you the honor of dropping it to the ground.

He gives you time to gasp for air while he dips his nose into your neck, inhaling your perfume and the scent of the hotel shampoo in your hair. His back muscles tense up under your cold fingertips as you run them along his spine. It’s almost beast-like, when he flexes his arms and every single move shifts his shoulder blades under his skin. His lips leave gentle pecks in your neck and your exposed collar bone, letting goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

His hand caresses your waist as a way of request, and you arch your back just enough for him to find the zipper on the back of your gown. The vibrations of the zip being pulled downwards already feels like little bolts of electricity up your spine, and the straps around your shoulders loosen with every inch unzipped.

He’s done, when his fingers return to your shoulders to push the straps off. The cool air kisses your skin in spots where he isn’t touching with any part of his body. The silk of the gown gently slides off with every inch of a movement you make, more and more of your torso exposed to him.

Sliding one of his arms under your lower back, he pulls you out of the dress instead of stripping you of it as he helps you further up the bed. Your hands press into the mattress in a bid to help him shift yourself without breaking the sloppy, messy kiss. Your back finally meets the pillows and he pushes the gown off the bed with his leg.

Chin tilting to the ceiling, he finally creates some distance between the two of you, eyes drifting down to your collar bone and chest still covered. His palms are hot around your waist as he trails butterfly pecks on your cleavage, while your fingers find his hair to tousle and grip.

Goosebumps start to surface when his breath is heavy on your stomach, then he reaches your underwear and it’s almost embarrassing to have him kiss you.

Your clouded vision is manually stuck to the ceiling when you can feel your face burning with adrenaline. The tickle of the material when it gets pulled off your hips and down your legs bring your cheeks more color, and before you know it, Hyunjae has your breath hitched in your throat.

He rests your thighs on his shoulders as he works his way around, the bare minimum sanity left inside you decides to grip onto the sheets instead of ripping out his hair.

Chills shoot up your spine mercilessly, emanating in the form of lewd mewls directed into the air. The crown of your head meets the cushioned head board of the bed when his grip on your thighs tighten to keep you from squirming too much.

Without warning, he drags a finger down your sensitiveness and slides it in easily, the sensation erupting a more-than-shameful groan from you. Pulling away, he adds another finger before shifting his attention back to your upper body, now eyeing the last piece of material covering your chest. But he captures your lips first to earn your attention, and your arms naturally find your way around his neck to keep him close.

His free hand goes around your back to unhook your lingerie, and it’s nothing but a new addition to all the clothes on the carpet now. He removes his fingers, and breaks the kiss first, for the sole reason of giving you a perfect view of him licking his glistening skin.

You can feel your brows furrow with frustration now, the warmth from him dissipating when he leans back on his heels in a kneeling position. By providing you a gorgeous view of his being while he undoes his belt, he’s only adding more fire to the fuel.

It’s significant enough to stretch out the material of his boxers, and so he climbs over you as he removes his last bit of clothing. He harshly yanks you downwards into a lying position by your ankle, and the sharp friction against your back is an addition to the heat between the two of you.

His breath is heavy on your lips as he rests his palms by your ears, weight pushing in the mattress. “Tell me if it hurts, love.”

Then he presses his lips into yours, like his life depended on it, and in one swift motion, he buries himself inside you like it was the most natural thing to do.

You suck all the breath out of him as you gasp into the kiss, and he finds your arms to hook around his neck and shoulders.

If you could feel the taste of honey throughout your body, this must be how it feels.

He gives you some moments before he starts grinding his hips slowly, his palms finding your thighs and digging into your flesh as he hooks them around his hips.

Breathless, you pull away first, whimpers in the back of your throat louder than what you would’ve expected. His nose dips into your neck again, arms now stretched out to use the headboard as support when he picks up the pace.

Cursing under your breath, you feel guilty for the bliss that was spreading through you. Your nerves are all heightened by the adrenaline and your vision is blurred from the sole nature of the intimate act.

He’s not fast, but every spot he’s hitting feels like cloud nine over and over again.

Like a spark in the dark, the sacred spot reveals itself in the form of harsher breaths and groans. Your fingernails dig into his back and your thighs are losing stamina to remain wrapped around him.

“That’s it,” He breaths into your ear, pressing a kiss into your lower jaw. “Come for me.”

Tremors burst through your body like lightning in a storm upon his request. He helps you ride it out with a few more thrusts before he pulls out himself, releasing on your stomach, chest heaving.

Resting his forehead on yours, he smiles. “Let’s hope that one day I wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out.”

You scoff, slightly tired. “We’ll see.”

You are woken up by the unfamiliar warmth you normally don’t have under the blanket. White sheets and tousled hair come into your field of vision before you can process the face, partially hidden, but eyes wide open.

“Jesus,” Your morning breath billows out between your lips and you swallow to dampen your dry throat. The room looks too damn bright for it to be morning. “What time is it?”

“7am. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. My manager hasn’t called me so... we have time to spare.”

You shuffle around under the sheets and your arms slide under the pillow where its cool. He shifts and pulls out his arm to rest on his tricep, palm under his ear and hair as he perches up his head.

“What?” You pull the blanket up to your face and inhale the scent of it. It smells like him now.

“You look pretty when you’re asleep.”

“What?” You frown, but a smile is on your lips. “How long did you watch me sleep for?”

“Not long, don’t worry. I’m not a perv.”

“Well, considering we just slept together after 24 hours of knowing one another-”

“Hey, we’re both about to be deported back to Korea to work. Give us a break, would you?” He groans and shifts again, this time trying to pull you into his chest.

“Ah,” Snorting, you let him cradle you in his arms, his bare skin pressed warmly into yours. “‘Deport’? That’s what you call your job?”

“Only because you’re involved now,” He pecks you on the lips. “So... can I ask about your ‘administrative matters’ you said you needed to attend?”

Right. The orphanage is closing down.

The guilt washes through you again.

“Oh,” A look of seriousness overtakes your facials, and he notes the change in expression. “Um... I- Well... It’s an orphanage. It’s closing.”

He blinks at you, gaze filled with wander. “Were you a volunteer or...?”

Silence.

You can’t bring yourself to say it.

Unable to bear the incoming judgment he might provide you, your eyes dart away.

“Hey, hey,” He finds your chin and tilts it back up to his attention. “What’s wrong? I don’t see anything wrong with being who you are. Why are you ashamed?”

“I... I’ve lived all my life with that label. ‘Orphan’. It only got better when I came out to work.”

“Is that why you are so worried? That... we might affect something and possibly implicate that?”

“Maybe.”

He sighs, thumb stroking your cheek as he shakes his head. “Nah. It shouldn’t matter.” Pulling your head into his chest, you can hear the steady thumping of his heart through his skin. “’Administrative matters’, huh? Are you like a... committee member or donator?”

“I’m an unofficial sponsor ambassador from LV. Well, LV was supposed to arrange for official funding, but they just never really had the time or resources to build the rapport. The orphanage was doing too badly for any company or brand to want to help and invest their attention on.”

“Mm,” He hums, stroking your hair. “I’m sorry about that. I truly am.”

“It’s okay. Nothing could’ve been done about it anyway. All I hope now is for the kids to be safe, no matter where they go.”

It feels empty again, having Hyunjae being ripped from your side at the airport once the plane touched down. The manager was surprisingly not surprised to know that you had spent the night together, the only question he had asked being something that concerned a future pregnancy, which the two of you have already confirmed negative.

It’s late when you reach back your apartment, and you ready yourself for the private meeting with the committee members of the orphanage. Though tired and severely jet-lagged, you cannot miss this meeting. It’s the last time you’ll see all the caretakers and members of the organisation in the same room.

You shift into the taxi in a new set of clothes, but topped with the Dior blazer and smelling like the Dior perfume, you feel like you were probably going to get slapped once you reach the meeting.

The building of the orphanage looks so run-down, it could be mistaken for a prison had it not been for the words HILDA’S ORPHANAGE in big, block letters above the entrance. Before you can exit the taxi, your phone starts vibrating in your purse.

It’s the President of the orphanage.

“I’m right outside the building, going in soon,” You push open the car door and thank the driver.

“The meeting has been cancelled. Someone bought the orphanage and we’ll be managed under a new system.”

“What?”

“Surprise.”

You turn around and see the last person you’d expect to see here, in his hands, a folder of documents and a small bouquet of flowers.

“Um,” Your eyes are stuck to Hyunjae, but you’re still on the phone. “The buyer... Does it have anything to do with Gucci or F1?”

“Yes, it’s an F1 sponsorship but there will be more details into the managerial and planning system. Some things will have to change.”

“I’ll... I’ll call you back.”

Hyunjae watches you lock your phone in shock, attention unrivalled. He takes a few steps towards you and you now realise he’s still in the same clothes he was in on the plane. His eyebags are obvious but the prideful grin on his face makes him glow.

Stopping about an arms’ length away from you, he holds out the folder.

“I checked with my manager and he checked with F1. They green-lit it, but on a few conditions. I heard them out before I told them it would be more likely than not you’d accept it, so here are the legal documents. All the terms and conditions and sponsor contract are already in here, so you and the President can sign it when you deem fit.”

Taking the folder, you didn’t even notice your hands are trembling as you flip through it.

But your eyes flitter up from the page when you notice the printing:

OWNER’S SIGNATURE (Y/N L/N): ____________________

“It’s yours if you sign it.”

Now, he holds out the bouquet. “I thought of putting it under my name but I don’t want you to think you owe me a favour and have it bugging you all the time.”

Gently shaking your head, as if you could shake out the surprise, you close the file and look to him in awe. “But I’ll still owe you, big time. This is... this is everything, so thank you.”

He sucks in a deep breath and shakes the bouquet of flowers a little.

“You can return the favour by going out with me. Properly, whenever I have time, and I promise, no Dior packages.”

Taking the bouquet into hand, you throw your arms around his shoulders, tears welling in your eyes.

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