#so short smut fic incoming

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

okay so lil struggle with recome again atm, accidentally deleted some stuff but its gettin there.

Working on two other WIPS one of which is smut and almost done

[sketchguk]

part time lover; jjk

➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader

➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

➵ word count: 30.8k

➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.

only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 

➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk were both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison),  jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love).��

➳ a/n: thank you for being so patient with me as i toiled through this fic. it wasn't an easy one! but i do think it's special because of how healing the journey was for me <3 please enjoy, let me know what you think. don't forget to check out the other fics from the "industry baby" collab hosted by the ever so lovely @jeonjcngkook and @mercurygguk !

➳ smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot

Jeongguk, 26 Investigative journalist at Golden News Network Less than a mile away To whom it may concern, I am a single father looking for a wife (DM me for serious inquiries only). 

“Your profile is dog shit,” Seokjin deadpans. The cringe settles into the downward turn of his lips as he swipes through his best friend’s Tinder account. “You’d be bitchless if you weren’t hot.” 

“Jin, watch your mouth.” Jeongguk shoots a deadly glare toward the older man. “There are children around.” 

From the kitchen, Jeongguk cranes his neck to take a peek into the messy living room where his adopted daughter sits, criss-crossed, in front of the television. Minji is too distracted by her weekly cartoon updates to even notice the crude language. 

“Minny, don’t sit too close to the TV,” he sends his daughter a stern yet gentle reminder. “Your eyeballs are gonna fall out of your head if you do.” 

A frown etches itself onto Minji’s face as she scooches back on her knees. 

Jeongguk returns his attention to the dinner he’s preparing tonight. A pot of homemade tomato sauce simmers on the stovetop. 

In the back of his mind, he wonders if his dating profile is as terribly unappealing as Seokjin says it is. Otherwise he wouldn’t have so many notifications, right? ー Messages from girls, asking if he could be their daddy too. Jeongguk’s bio is short and straight to the point. He’s not that ugly, or so he thinks. Being a journalist is a respectable occupation with steady income. So what could be so bad about it? 

Is it the fact that Jeongguk isn’t even his real name ー nothing but a fake persona to help him with his investigation? Maybe it’s because his adopted daughter doesn’t have a striking resemblance to him, and his pictures look like a shady scam. 

But there’s no way that they can see through Jeongguk’s facade. After all, he’s the best spy in the agency. His specialty is deceit. It’s foolproof. There’s no reason not to believe him. 

“I think they’re really into the whole dad thing,” Jeongguk nods, focusing on the sliced onions in front of him. The smell of garlic and fresh herbs permeate through the air.

“Really?” Seokjin says in feigned disbelief. He leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable. “It’s not because of the video where you’re deepthroating a deep dish pizza? Just for that, I would have gotten on my hands and knees to suck your di-.” 

“Can you seriously watch your language?” Jeongguk cuts him off before pointing a knife in his direction. 

Kim Seokjin may be his closest colleague, but that’s exactly where he draws the line. Seokjin is nothing more than Jeongguk’s informant. His job is to get the latest intel on all of his targets, and that’s it. He’s not here to fool around or make friends.

“We took that video in Chicago. Doesn’t it show that I’m well traveled?” Jeongguk asks with genuine curiosity. He remembers reading an article about how women love that sort of stuff. 

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s gonna be a long, long night,” he mutters to himself. His best friend is beyond the point of fixing, but at least he makes a good househusband. 

Jeongguk wipes his hands against his frilly apron before dipping a wooden spoon into the pot. He inches the tomato sauce closer to his pursed lips as he blows on the piping hot confection. It could use more parsley. 

Just when Jeongguk thought he could distract himself with cooking, he suddenly remembers the pressing problem that occupies all of his brain space: he is in desperate need of a wife. The constant reminder is taped to the front of the fridge 一 a letter from Minji’s prospective elementary school. 

Dear Jeon family,  Congratulations! Your child’s preliminary results indicate that he/she has passed the entrance exam at Hwa Yang Academy. Our institution carries a prestigious reputation, accepting only the nation’s brightest students. Due to your child’s outstanding academic score, we invite you to the second phase of admissions where a family interview will be conducted. Please have both parents and child present at Yeon Hwa Hall on the first of May, promptly at 10am.  It is our good fortune that you chose to apply to Hwa Yang Academy. We look forward to welcoming you and your family to our renowned institution.  Sincerely,  Department of Admissions at Hwa Yang Academy

The fact that Minji received an interview at the top school in the nation is amazing beyond belief. Everything is going according to plan. The only problem is that Jeon Jeongguk is, in fact, bitchless. 

“Remind me again, why do you need to get Minji into that school?” Seokjin furrows his brows. He’s never seen his best friend this stressed. The way that Jeongguk is willing to jump through hoops makes him feel as if he’s never wanted anything so bad in his life. 

Jeongguk clenches the wooden spoon in his hand, threatening to give himself a splinter. “I have to get access to Hwa Yang,” he says, like it’s do or die. “There are families with infinite amounts of political power there, including the prime minister. The big boss suspects that they’re planning a rebellion, and I need to get close to them to expose their secrets. Obviously I can’t even touch the elite without pretending to be one myself. So I need this family to be as perfect as it can be.” 

“You think you can prevent a whole rebellion and save the country if you go to a few parent association meetings? Bake a batch of cookies like a soccer mom?” Seokjin’s questions are sarcastic, but he’s not wrong. He needs to infiltrate the prime minister’s inner circle, befriend him, and uncover his government secrets. But doing so would be impossible without first securing a wife and earning acceptance into the school. 

“If it comes down to making a paper mache volcano, I’ll do it.” The determination in Jeongguk’s eyes is unwavering. 

“You really expect to get through the admission interview with a fake wife? I can’t even get a single date, but you think you can get married by the end of the month?” Seokjin laughs at the expense of his own heartache. 

“Maybe the mommies would like you more if you weren’t so de-looshe-in-ull,” Minji chimes. 

Has she been listening all along?

“Delusional?” Seokjin scoffs, fueled with exasperation. Lately, he’s had thoughts about being a kinder person, yet a part of him still believes that he deserves the last word in every conversation. “Where did you learn about that?” he queries, balling up his hands. 

“Appa,” Minji replies, pointing at the man in question. 

Seokjin winds his fist back as if he’s throwing a punch across the room, but he listens to the screaming voice in the back of his head. The one that tells him he’s much too pretty to get pummeled today ー that his face would look better if Jeongguk’s fist wasn’t imprinted on the surface of it. So instead of starting a fight with a five year old girl, Seokjin folds his knees against his chest, cursing under his breath. Maybe he can be the bigger person. 

“So why can’t the agency send another spy operative to play house with you?” Seokjin asks, resorting to a life of civility under Jeongguk’s roof. He forces a smile through gritted teeth and returns his attention to the dating app in the palm of his hands, half-listening to his best friend. 

“Well, a bunch of police officers arrested our agents. There’s only a few people left on the team. Haven’t you seen the news? The government is cracking down on espionage.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, clenching his jaw. “They use women as their scapegoat, filling up some stupid quota for incarceration.” How can men be so ignorant and simple minded?  

Ironically, Seokjin flashes his phone in front of Jeongguk’s face. “Swipe left or right, what do you think?” Yep, the minds of men are pretty simple, and Seokjin definitely didn’t hear a single word that came out of Jeongguk’s mouth. 

Y/N Daycare teacher at children’s municipal library 1 mile away Critics review: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “Loves her emotional support characters, and will only ever love her emotional support characters”  “Can’t cook to save her life, but she can top off your ramen with a fried egg”  “Pros: loving and down to earth, great with kids. Cons: doesn’t know her own strength, hates mushrooms, has a quirky laugh” 

“You know what? I’ll swipe right. You’ll get more matches if you do,” Seokjin suggests with a determined nod. 

Jeongguk stares at his informant in disbelief, jaw slack. There’s no way this stupid app is going to land him a wife by the end of the month. 

“What do you think about this guy?” 

“Hard pass. I mean, look at his photos. His whole personality is about working out.” 

“Okay, then what about this one?” 

“Nah, he looks too stuck-up. I don’t think he can take a joke.” 

“How about her? She’s pretty, right?” 

“She doesn’t even have a bio! What if she’s a catfish?” 

From the way your coworkers appraise these people, they act as if they’re the ones looking for a partner. Because as a matter of fact, it’s your phone in their hand, swiping away on your dating app. 

It doesn’t matter if there are library books that need to be stowed away or paperwork to be filed. They pay no mind to the clock indicating that there’s 30 minutes left in the work day because finding you a significant other seems to be their only priority. 

“Sujin, stop being so picky. At this rate, y/n isn’t going to get a date if you swipe left on everyone,” Yumi whines. 

“Why did you make a profile for me anyways? I don’t need to be in a relationship.” The sound of your widely unpopular opinion makes the two girls look up with big, round eyes. 

“Aren’t you ever lonely?” There’s a hint of pity that lingers in Yumi’s voice. 

You find it quite offensive that she would think that. As much as you’d like to keep your job, you would also like to rip the rug out from beneath Yumi’s feet until she falls flat on her face. But the reality is, you really need this job. So all you do is shake your head and grit your teeth. “No, not really.” 

“Life is soo much more romantic when you have someone to love.” Sujin’s unblinking eyes make you wonder if she’s being held hostage against her will. Is her boyfriend tapping into her phone, listening to all of her conversations? 

“y/n, you’ve never been in a relationship before. Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something?” There’s a pout that rests on Yumi’s lips. Her tone leaks with faux sympathy. “Hobi just got married, and Nari’s having a baby. We’re all grown up, and I don’t want you to feel left out, especially at my engagement party next weekend. It might bring out some… bitter feelings.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you should definitely not push Yumi down the stairs at the end of your shift. “I think I’ll be content on my own.” 

“Here, look through the app for a little while. Maybe you’ll find someone that you like. Just give it a chance, okay?” Sujin hands the phone back to you. “You should really think about it. San tells me he’s been worried about you.”

Your expression falls upon hearing your younger brother’s name. Of all people, San should know that you value nothing more than your independence. 

“He just wants you to be happy ー for someone to take care of you.” 

Some part of you believes that Sujin is projecting her opinions and throwing your brother under the bus. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you assure her. “I can be happy on my own.” 

Nowadays, many people come to believe that a wedding ring is the solution to everyone’s misfortune. Supposedly, it’ll keep you safe from all things cruel in this world. They don’t seem to realize that there are problems that run much deeper than being single. It’s as if something must be inherently wrong with you if you’ve never had a partner, let alone a first kiss. 

You have to admit that sometimes, their words can hurt like knives. It’s damaging to your self-esteem if you really think about it. Because surely, everyone wants to be loved and to be desired ー to be chosen. How nice would it be to lie in bed, held and comforted by something other than the warmth of your own body?

If you were to have a relationship, perhaps you could go to bookstores together and read for hours on end. The two of you could laugh and sing at the top of your lungs, dancing like fools in the dim light of the bathroom with toothbrushes tucked between molars. You could listen to ballads on the radio and finally resonate with the lyrics, plastering a goofy, lovestruck smile on your face. If you were in love, you could share childhood memories, and even the mundane details would be tucked away for safekeeping. You’d know one another's biggest fears and greatest vulnerabilities. Even when you reveal the ugliest parts of yourself, they would choose you over and over again. 

If there was just one person to run their fingers across all of your curves, your dips, your scars, only to tell you that you are still the object of their affection, then perhaps you would give love a chance.

But having thought about love your entire life, and never yet to experience it, you’re certain that you’re better off on your own. Ever since you were a little kid, it’s always been you, yourself, and your grief. You’ve harbored yourself in your own bones for decades, so who knows you better than you know yourself ー truly and completely unfiltered? With your mind and wit so sharp, who will find you lovable when they discover there’s a blade where your heart is? 

If you were to find a partner, there is simply no way that you can continue the life that you have. You could never return to them at the end of the night, bloodied and bruised, with no questions asked. Surely, it’s not an easy pill to swallow when you tell them that you're an assassin. There’s no sugar coating that. 

Much like being a daycare teacher, being an assassin is just another job. You started living this secret identity because it earned enough money to take care of your younger brother after your parents had passed away. It put food on the table and cash toward your bills. Money would roll into your bank account by the thousands. At 18 years old, that type of money was unfathomable. But now that San is old enough to take care of himself, there’s really no need to continue this lifestyle. 

Yet you pursue the chase because there’s a certain thrill that comes from seeking justice and vigilance. These monsters no longer hide beneath your brother’s bed. Instead, they lurk between the shadows ー among the alleyways and abandoned parts of town. They prey on those who are weak and exploit them for all that they are. 

If the law enforcement team is never going to uphold their end of the social contract, you have to be the one to act first and eliminate them. So with every job completed, you can be certain that the world is safer one hit at a time. 

But to continue being an assassin, you have to keep this secret under wraps. You’ll be forced to hide under a life of normalcy, as nothing more than a naive and innocent daycare teacher at the local library ー a background character in the story of others. In all honesty, you prefer to keep your secrets tucked away. Because to be loved is to be known, and you simply cannot let that happen. 

Some people aren’t made for romance, and maybe you’re one of them. Nobody shall ever hold your heart in their hands without pricking their own flesh. 

Despite all that is said and done, some part of you thinks that there’s no harm in checking out the unpromising dating app. Curiosity gets the best of you as you mindlessly swipe through all of the profiles. However, everyone you’ve come across is either too shallow, too arrogant, or too boring. 

A defeated sigh slips past your lips until you come across a certain profile. You look closer at the photos, inspecting each one with great care. There are only so many pictures: one of him and his dog, a second one of him shoving a Chicago deep dish down his throat, and another with a young child. Tattoos litter across his sun-kissed skin, and piercings scatter his handsome face ー beautiful in the most unorthodox ways.

His bio reads: “To whom it may concern, I am a single father looking for a wife (DM me for serious inquiries only).” 

Have you seen this man before? Could it be… him? 

The longer that you stare at his profile, the more concerned you become. At this rate, you’ve created an entire fantasy about a relationship with this stranger, and now you’re planning the dinner menu for your wedding. But there’s no way that you’d actually consider swiping right and messaging him, right? You don’t even want a boyfriend! This man could be joking for all you know. 

When the clock strikes the hour, a chime resounds through the air. You shake your head, finally coming to your senses. You slip your device into your pocket, forgetting about the man who lives in your phone. 

Jeongguk. His name is Jeongguk. 

“Appaaa!” There’s a piercing cry that slices through the air as the little girl begs for her father’s affection. From behind the bookshelves, the curious librarian pokes her head between the gaps to catch a glimpse of the commotion. 

“Don’t let go, please, please, pleeease!” The young child slips her tiny hand into her father’s, shaking it back and forth with a sense of urgency. 

Jeongguk stands frozen in place. The apples of his cheeks darken into a rosy hue. It’s a little embarrassing to be that parent ー the one who can’t control his child’s outbursts in the middle of a public space, let alone a library, an academic sanctuary that promises peace and quiet. 

With a heavy, exhausted sigh, Jeongguk crouches down to meet his daughter’s innocent expression. “Minny, I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. I ask that you give me ten minutes, okay?” His voice is firm and assertive. It’s a little rough around the edges, but it can’t be helped. He speaks in a way that commands attention from the room. This is the only way he knows how to demand respect from his subordinates. 

“I just need to pick up a few things. We can go home afterwards, so be a good girl until then,” Jeongguk bargains. “You can go to the playroom, and the nice librarian will take care of you.” 

Minji squeezes her tiny hands into fists, and she dies on the inside. Tears form in the corner of her eyes. Even the slightest change in her father’s tone makes her believe that she’s done something wrong. Her worst nightmare flashes before her eyes. 

Would her father abandon if she were to misbehave? Or worse, would he dare to return her to the orphanage she was adopted from? What if her biggest fear comes to fruition? After all, it’s not uncommon for parents to realize far too late that kids are too difficult to handle. Then, they’re left hoping and praying for some kind of return policy for their own flesh and blood. 

Minji’s eyes become glossy at the thought of it, unlocking a hidden memory from the past, but she refuses to let herself falter underneath his piercing stare. Yet no matter how hard she tries to keep the tears at bay, her emotions get the best of her, and her resolve crumbles into smithereens. After all, she’s only five years old. 

It appears that the authoritative approach only works in the combat room, but perhaps not with a five year old girl. So Jeongguk lowers his defenses and drops to his knees. He wipes the tears away with the pad of his thumb, and she sniffles even harder when he comforts her. 

There’s something about the little girl’s demeanor that reminds Jeongguk of himself when he was younger. Perhaps it’s the need for her father’s approval ー the desire to please and put others above herself. Maybe it’s her tenacity for standing tall and strong despite the dull ache in her tender heart. 

“You can let it all out,” he reaffirms. A beat of silence passes by while he caresses her cheek, allowing the tears to fall. “You ’kay now?” 

Minji reluctantly agrees with the slow nod of her head, but she avoids her father’s strong gaze, staring down at her shoes, sullen. When the warmth of her father’s hand disappears, another sniffle racks through her body. 

Normally, Minji is never one to throw a tantrum, but what does Jeongguk know? Just when he thought he had a hang of the whole “parenting” thing, he’s thrown into a loop. In spite of Jeongguk’s confident demeanor, he genuinely doesn’t know the first thing about raising a child, let alone a daughter. 

In his past ten years of being an undercover spy, he has diffused nuclear bombs and hacked into government files, but nothing has ever prepared him for being a single parent. Yet as a man and a father, he needs to do better. He needs to be better. The least he can do is try.

Jeongguk raises a hand between their bodies, extending his pinky for her to interlock, pledging his vow. “I’ll be back for you in ten minutes, I swear.” He reassures his daughter before planting a kiss on the crown of her head. He crosses his fingers, silently praying that she won’t cry again. 

A dribble of snot falls from Minji’s nose. Her eyelashes are soaked. A dramatic hiccup heaves through her tiny, five-year old body. 

Jeongguk can feel the venomous judgment of everyone around him. They must think that he’s utterly unfit to be a father, and they would be right. 

They would wonder: What kind of child causes a scene in public, screaming, crying, and begging her father not to abandon her? How can he send her to the playroom where there’s nothing but disgusting germs and snotty kids? Is he seriously going to hand off his responsibilities to a total stranger in an underfunded public institution? 

They can easily write Jeongguk off as a villain ー a big, scary man with piercings and tattoos. They could hurl accusations at him with no regard as to where they land. All it takes is a quick glance and a first impression (a false one at that). Obviously, they would think he’s someone who’s not built for child rearing because of the slits in his eyebrows and the gel in his hair. There must not be a gentle bone that resides in his big, burly body, but for that, they would be wrong.

The worst part about this whole “father” situation is not necessarily the judgment of others. He is familiar with scrutiny, and he knows it all too well. Rather, it’s that Jeongguk was never particularly fond of having children of his own. Some people are not cut out for fatherhood, and that’s simply the truth of the matter. But that doesn’t mean he won't do his best. He can’t let Minji down. He won’t. 

As if Minji could read his thoughts, she raises her arms, begging to be picked up. Her sniffles have long died down. 

Jeongguk takes a deep breath before caving into her wishes and hooking an arm around her knees. Minji’s grimy, little hands cling around his neck, and an inaudible, celebratory noise escapes from her lips. 

Minji nuzzles her head beneath her father’s chin. She chatters about the incomprehensible things that only five year olds would understand. She is an enigma beyond her father’s own understanding, but he is determined to learn the ins and outs of this child no matter what it takes, even if it kills him. 

After Jeongguk had finally dropped Minji off at the library’s playroom, he peruses the non-fiction shelves in search of answers. 

How the hell is he going to raise a child? 

He thumbs through all of the top-rated parenting books available, skimming through the blurbs, trying to absorb enough information to pass judgment on them. Because if he’s going to follow parenting advice from someone else, they better be successful in their trials. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be the one to fuck up his own child’s brain chemistry.

There’s a sudden tap on his shoulder that helps Jeongguk to escape from the existential dread of fatherhood.

“Excuse me, sir.” A soft voice sounds from behind him. Your breath catches onto the nape of his neck.  

“How did this woman sneak up on me without me noticing? Maybe I’m losing my touch.” Jeongguk wonders, shocked by his carelessness. Because from behind, he didn’t hear the fall of a single footstep. The air was still and undisturbed until he felt your presence a moment too late. Normally, he would have surveilled everyone within a mile radius before they could even think about approaching him. But you managed to do it so effortlessly. He’s never met a woman so stealthy. 

“I think this belongs to you.” Your voice interrupts his stream of consciousness. 

The man before you turns around, and surely, he is a sight for sore eyes 一 a little intimidating to say the least. There’s a silver ring that protrudes from his bottom lip, contrasting against the subtle pink. Even more metal resides against the surface of his skin, a piercing on either side of his eyebrow. There’s a scar that sits on his cheekbone, and you can’t help but wonder how it got there. 

You’ve only ever admired this stranger from afar. Most days, he never fails to browse the children’s manhwa section with a talkative child latched onto his leg. Up close, he looks like a tough guy, but the moment he sees his adorable daughter clinging onto your dress, the hard look in his eyes softens. A dimple carves itself into the curve of his cheek. 

“Who do we have here?” His typical inflection changes into something slightly more playful. But he uses it to mask his exhausted state.

“Appa, appa! Miss y/l/n is so pretty, don’t you think?” Minji says enthusiastically. 

A flame ignites beneath the surface of Jeongguk’s skin. He grows flustered under the little girl’s stare.

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been considered “pretty” by conventional standards. It’s not often that you hear those words, if ever, really. 

“Minji, everyone has their own opinions, but you shouldn’t push your beliefs onto someone else,” you begin as a form of damage control. “I’m so sorry, but she ran up to me, saying she lost her father. She seemed so distressed, and I thought she was going to burst into tears if she couldn’t find you.” 

Jeon Jeongguk has never known peace before. Minji is just as sneaky and conniving as her father; she’s a filthy liar just like him. 

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologize. Her attachment issues have grown by the day,” Jeongguk replies, shaking his head. He wears a bashful smile, cheeks tinged with pink. “Minny, do you remember what I taught you?” He crouches down to pick his daughter up by the waist, squeezing her sides. 

“Don’t sleep with wet hair otherwise I might get hippo-pot-a-therm-ia?” Minji recalls, butchering the pronunciation. 

Jeongguk bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. “No, the other thing.” 

“Minny doesn’t have to eat anything that she doesn’t want to?” 

“I never said that.” A look of disapproval crosses her father’s features. 

“Drawing mustaches on sleepy people is wrong unless it’s Seokjin samchon?” 

He scrunches his nose, nodding his head from side to side as though he’s contemplating. “Well… yes, but no. Try again. The thing about beauty.” 

“Oh! Beauty is something that comes from the inside!” Minji’s eyes light up upon recognition.

“Exactly, it comes from inside.” Jeongguk reminds her. He presses his pointer finger against Minji’s sternum for emphasis. Upon his touch, a sweet giggle falls from her lips. 

“But you do think it’s true, don’t you?” Minji asks once again, persistent. “Miss y/l/n is really pretty.” 

The blush on his cheeks grow a shade darker. “Minny, of course I think she’s pretty. I thought we talked about this.” Although he lowers his voice like it’s a secret, you can still hear every single word. 

Minji giggles to herself, hiding her face behind her hands. 

Jeongguk has always known your face, but never your name. “Miss y/l/n, right?” 

It sounds odd to hear your title from a grown man, but you laugh it off with a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what the kids at the daycare call me. It’s just y/n though.” 

Jeongguk readjusts his daughter in his arms before reaching for a handshake. “I’m just Jeongguk.” It doesn’t strike how little his name means to him. Of course it’s just an alias for the sake of the mission. He picked it on a whim, but it suits him more than he had thought. Jeon Jeongguk, pillar of the nation. The lie tumbles out of his lips so naturally, and he doesn't have to think twice. 

His eyes lower into crescent moons as the corner of his lips curve into a smile, something akin to fondness. A shallow dimple finds its way onto his cheeks. 

Dammit. He’s cute. 

You reach forward, cupping your hand around his in a reverent greeting. He holds you gently as if there’s a butterfly that had landed on the tip of his fingers. It contrasts against your strong grip. 

Observant as ever, Jeongguk notices that there’s no sign of a ring on your hand. He digs through the arsenal of intel that’s locked up inside his brain. Thanks to Seokjin’s sticky fingers, he managed to spend an entire weekend studying the most recent census information, getting to know the profiles of everyone in the city (just in case). There has to be some information about you stored in his head. 

“y/n… Where did I see that name before?” He thinks to himself, mentally sifting through all the files he’s read. “Ah, I remember now. File #901: y/l/n, y/n. Never married, never divorced. Orphaned at the age of eighteen. She has one younger brother. Both of them have clean records ー never been in trouble with the police, never even received a speeding ticket.”

“Jeongguk…” you murmur his name as if you’re testing the waters. “I know. I’ve seen you around before.” 

Minji might have accidentally let it slip that he’s the man who's been her appa ‘for a very long time.’ She never seemed to mention that she’s adopted. Instead, she continues to describe her father as someone super handsome and very single. 

“Really?” Although he’s noticed you plenty of times before, he’s surprised that you recognize him. Jeongguk doesn’t like drawing attention. He supposes that lately, it’s been difficult when his daughter attracts a lot of eyes. 

“Most of the time, you wander through the aisles, half-dead like a zombie, with a cup of coffee in your hand.” You lean forward, speaking in a hushed tone. “You really aren’t allowed to bring drinks into the library, but my coworkers let it slide because they think you’re handsome.” 

Perhaps you’ve overshared because Jeongguk stares at you blankly, taken aback by the news. 

“Here’s another secret.” You beckon him closer once again, speaking barely above a whisper. “You should be careful about reading parenting books. You’ll end up stressed about what to do if it doesn’t work, and you’ll feel like a failure by the end of it.”

His eyes widen in surprise. He had hoped that the parenting books would put an end to his sleepless nights. “What do you think I should do then? I don’t know how to deal with this monster right here.” He ruffles Minji’s hair in endearment. 

“Hey!” Minji shouts in defense of herself.

“That’s not to say you shouldn’t read any parenting books. It’s just trial and error,” you shrug. “As much as you don’t want to hear it, there’s really no right answer.”

Jeongguk drops his shoulders, slightly disappointed. The defeated look on his face is a feeling you can sympathize with. 

“But if it helps, I think it’s important that children need a little bit of softness every now and then, especially because the world is so cruel.” You flash him a gentle smile, urging him to lighten up on his daughter. He needs to stop pretending that raising a child is anything like the military or the spy academy. 

Upon hearing your conversation, there’s a mischievous sparkle that appears in Minji’s eyes. “Miss y/l/n, do you wanna be my eomma?” 

You stare blankly at her, blinking as though you are processing her question. The words die on your tongue, yet you cock your head to the side, meeting the little girl’s gaze. “Y- your eomma?” you reiterate, startled. 

“Pleaseee? I’m so lonely with no eomma,” Minji pouts, melodramatic as ever. She puts her hand on her forehead as if she’s feigning an illness. 

“Jeongguk, do you happen to be looking for a wife?” 

“Is this your way of asking me out?” He leans forward, inclined to hear your proposal. 

You wonder if this is a bad time to mention his Tinder profile. It could be a little awkward knowing that you’ve also made an account on that wretched app. There’s nothing inherently embarrassing about wanting to find love through modern dating, but why is it so hard to admit it?

You weigh your options in your head, but Jeongguk beats you to it. 

“Because if you did 一 ya’ know 一 ask me out, I would have said-” His words are cut short. 

“You know what? I’m sorry if I was being too forward-” Mentally, you want to smack yourself on the head.

Jeongguk didn’t mention anything about a girlfriend, let alone a wife. He has no idea that you’ve seen his Tinder before. You never even swiped. You never matched. 

After you found his profile, you tucked your phone away and refused to open the app again. The blissful state of not knowing is better than playing the waiting game. Will he swipe, will he not? Will he message you and jumpstart some epic romance? 

You decide to tell him the truth and swallow your pride before coming across as a complete weirdo wrapped up in her delusions. 

“It’s just that… the other day, my friends made a dating profile for me because they’re worried I’ll be single for the rest of my life. I came across your account, and I thought you looked familiar. So I just wanted to know if you’re actually looking for a wife because I swear, I’ll do it.” 

Jeongguk has never been this close to making a breakthrough, and he thinks he’s half in love with you. “Are you being serious?” he wonders as a precaution. “Don’t lie to me because I really need this to be a dream come true right now.” 

His daughter reaches forward to pinch his cheeks. Jeongguk winces at the pain, and he’s certain that this moment is real. 

“Do you want me to get down on one knee?” Your face is devoid of any banter, eyes fixed on Jeongguk as if you’re genuinely offering yourself to him. “Why do you need a wife? Tax money? Green card? Ex who won’t leave you alone?” 

“It’s complicated,” Jeongguk begins. 

“Trust me, I know it's complicated when I see it.” There’s a challenging look in your eyes, urging him to continue. 

“Well, the other day, Minny passed the entrance exam for Hwa Yang Academy. Now, the  board has to conduct an interview with the family, but they said they would want both parents to be there.” 

“You can’t tell them that you’re a single father?” 

“I think it’ll hurt her chances of getting accepted,” he explains. “I want my daughter to attend a good school. Her late mother would have wanted the same thing for her.” 

“Appa said lying is wrong, but he’s so good at it,” Minji thinks to herself. 

“Do you really think that I’m fit for the role?” You’ve never really had a penchant for acting or playing pretend. Lying, on the other hand, that is your strong suit. 

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but I think you’re perfect.” Jeongguk speaks his truth without any hesitation. He looks at you with such sweet and delicate eyes. “You seem to be great with children, and Minny adores you already.” 

You eye him as if you’re considering his offer, but you’ve already made up your mind. “I’ll do it, but only if you do a favor for me too. Are you free next weekend?” 

“Next weekend?” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. It’s starting to make sense why you agreed to do this in the first place. You need something in exchange, quid pro quo. 

“My friends are throwing an engagement party. They’re worried about me all the time because I’m single, but I thought I would lay it to rest if I told them I finally had a boyfriend, or at least someone I’m talking to.” Your speech gets faster and faster with every word that comes out of your mouth. “I know it sounds crazy, Iー” 

“I’ll do it.”

You stare blankly at him, unsure if you heard correctly, but a smile continues to creep onto the corners of your lips. “You will?” 

Jeongguk reaches forward, gently taking your hand in his. “It would be an honor to be your boyfriend,” he says, even if it’s just pretend. “And an even bigger honor to be your husband.” 

“y/n!” 

You don’t hear your name being called relentlessly until your co-workers are shouting for your attention. Their words fall upon deaf ears. 

As usual, they had been gossiping about their boyfriends and their weekend plans. You checked out of the conversation the moment Yumi opened her mouth and uttered her fiancé’s name, resisting the urge to gag. 

You look up from your lap, slightly too distracted. There’s a small, maroon stain and a rip in the skirt of your dress. It’s not easy keeping your clothes in pristine condition when you’re constantly running toward danger. You’re lost in thought, wondering how much the tailor shop will charge you for sewing it back together. 

“What are you doing this weekend? There’s a new episode of that drama you like, right? Are you going to order delivery again?” Yumi assumes. “You know, you should step outside from time to time. Maybe you’ll find a nice person to date if Tinder doesn’t pan out.” 

“Actually, I have plans after work,” you announce before returning to inspect the damage on your dress. 

“With who? Did you meet someone on the app?” The cadence of Sujin’s voice is airy, shocked in disbelief. 

“I’m meeting up with some guy.” You try not to make it a big deal, but these girls always blow it out of proportion. “I didn’t meet him from the app though.” 

“You’re seeing someone? Who?! You can’t just drop the news and expect us not to ask for the details!” Sujin shouts. 

“He was at the library the other day, and he asked me out. He’s the one with the tattoos ー y’all would recognize him if you saw him,” you explain. “Minji is his daughter.” 

“The guy with the coffee?” Everyone collectively gasps upon connecting the dots. “Him? How did you manage to pull that?!” 

Ouch. That hurts. 

“I would dump my fiancé in a heartbeat if the coffee guy could blow my back out,” Yumi confesses. 

How could she be so shallow? She was just talking about how much she loved her fiancé. Is he really that disposable? Besides, is Jeongguk nothing more than the coffee guy? A pretty face who’s made for a one night stand? You’re starting to think that people don’t actually value their relationships. They just want a partner for the sake of having one.

There’s a sudden chime that resounds through the air, pulling you out of your thoughts. The service bell at the front desk had been struck. It’s odd considering most people exited the library by now, knowing that it closes in ten minutes. 

You all poke your head through the doorway to catch a glimpse of the patron. Their eyes widen in surprise when they see the coffee guy standing at the front desk. He stands tall and proud with a military stance, a head above everyone else. There’s a bouquet of pink camellias resting in his hand in place of his typical americano. 

“Jeongguk? I thought we were meeting at the cafe.” Perhaps you remembered the details of the conversation wrong.  

When you speak his name out loud, all the girls shift their gaze to one another. Could it really be true that you’re seeing a man? 

“I thought it would be nice if I could surprise you, and we’d walk there together.” He flashes a smile that sends an arrow straight through the heart (and through those of your coworkers). For a second, you think that Yumi might just faint. 

He’s handsome as ever, just as you recall. But today, there’s something that’s slightly out of place. There’s a bandage that rests on the bridge of his nose. It’s pink with Sanrio characters plastered all over it ー Hello Kitty and My Melody. There’s something about it that makes him even more endearing. 

You try to stifle a giggle as you shoot him an apology. “Sorry, can you hang around for a few more minutes? I have some things to do before closing.”

“Take your time, angel.” Jeongguk says. Crinkles begin to form at the corner of his eyes as the curve of his lips overtake him. 

You have to admit that the pet name made your heart flutter. He plays into the role of a sweet boyfriend pretty accurately. It’s all part of the act. 

Sujin closes the door to the office. The girls break into squeals. They playfully hit your shoulder in disbelief, elbowing your sides. “I can’t believe it! y/n is going out with a man?!” 

“And he’s hot!” 

You shake your head before returning to your work station, ignoring their cheers. But you can’t help the subtle smile that reaches your lips. Maybe the girls will finally leave you the fuck alone. 

“I’m so sorry for the wait.” You apologize as you approach Jeongguk, looking like a disheveled mess after an 8 hour shift. Your blouse is slightly wrinkled, and you’re certain there’s residue left behind from all the marker stains the kids had carelessly drawn on you. Your arm is full of stickers, and you’ll have to remember to peel them off later. 

In the daycare, Jeongguk is propped on top of a bean bag chair that is much too small for his body. There’s a manhwa that rests in his lap. It’s the one his daughter can’t stop talking about. 

“I got here ten minutes early anyways.” He places the book on the table before clambering to his feet. “Oh yeah, and these are for you.” He passes the bouquet of camellias. 

You raise your hands, not really sure how to accept the gift. You’re not the type of girl to receive flowers, love poems, or pretty things. Nobody has ever pursued you in that way. All you ever receive are cursory glances and awkward smiles, but never anything as beautiful as this. 

He inches the flowers a little closer to you, urging you to take it. 

You pull the bouquet to your nose, taking a whiff of the sweet scent. “These are really pretty. Thank you for that.” You motion for him to wait just a moment longer as you place the flowers into a vase. 

Through the porthole of the office door, you can see the girls squeal and jump around in unison. 

“Are you ready? Should we head out?” Jeongguk’s lips curl into a boyish smile. 

You nod, sharply turning your heels in an attempt to hide the fluster of your face. Before you could take a step forward, you’re pulled to a halt. There’s a tug on your arm that spins you around. Jeongguk’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you close. 

“Wait one sec,” his breath fans across your face. “You have some chalk on your cheek. Can I-?” He raises his hand, tentatively learning forward. 

Heat rushes to the surface of your skin, yet you nod your head, giving into his request. “Is this part of the act?” you wonder out loud, low enough for Jeongguk to hear. 

“Only if you want it to be.” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

As he leans forward to wipe the dust off your cheek, your throat dries. You freeze, attempting to avoid his gaze. You’re not certain whether you’ll explode upon gazing into his dark brown eyes. 

Instead, you keep your sight locked straight ahead. It’s a terrible idea considering his strong chest is right in front of you. The top two buttons of his white collared shirt are undone, and the space between his pecs are exposed, a necklace dangling in between. There’s a chance that you might die staring at it, so you accept the risk of embarrassing yourself and glance at his visage instead. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Jeongguk says, dusting off the chalk. 

A wave of butterflies swarm in the pit of your stomach, and your mind goes blank. You have no idea how to respond to such a compliment, and you’re unable to when your throat constricts. Your body warms, hyper aware of his palm on your cheek and the one wrapped around your wrist. Your one free hand that is not occupied by his clasp shoots up, hovering over the bandage plastered on his nose. 

“What happened here?” The words splutter out of your mouth, trying to say something. Anything. Perhaps your anxiety would be less noticeable if you could just act natural ー If you could stop standing there without a single thought in your head. 

“Bumped into a wall,” Jeongguk chuckles. It’s a blatant lie. He could never be this clumsy. In actuality, he had failed to duck during a sparring match with another spy at the agency. Fuck Kim Mingyu and his stupidly beefy arms. “Minny picked the bandage for me.” 

“You mean you didn’t choose to wear the Hello Kitty? I think it suits you.” As soon as you graze the bridge of his nose, his laughter turns into a dramatic groan. Soft murmurs of ‘ow, ow’ fall from his lips. 

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry!” You apologize. 

His other hand gently grasps your palm, pulling it away from his sprained injury. Maybe your dating profile was right when it mentioned you don’t know your own strength. 

“Don’t worry, let’s just hope that Minny is okay,” Jeongguk remarks. “She insisted on wearing a matching bandaid because ‘if appa’s hurt, then Minny’s hurt.’ Kind of like a voodoo doll.” 

Subconsciously, the thought of Minny wearing a matching bandage despite being perfectly fine forces your lips into a smile. 

“Should we head out now?” Jeongguk leans closer, voice barely above a whisper. “Can I hold your hand? Give your friends a real show to watch?” It’s as if your hand wasn’t already in his. 

You nod your head, suddenly remembering that this is all an act. You’re reminded of the girls crowded around the office door, peeking through the small window to catch a glimpse of the action. 

Jeongguk’s hand glides down from your palm and between your fingers, lacing them together. A breath hitches in your throat, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You can hear the high pitched screams from behind when the girls are convinced you’ve stepped far away enough. But it isn't as loud as the sound of your heart beating out of your chest. 

The two of you make your way to the cafe, walking side by side, hand-in-hand, occasionally bumping shoulders when you walk a little too close. 

“How was your day? I realized I never asked you what you do for work, and I don’t really know much about you in general,” you chuckle, slightly embarrassed. “I thought we would at least have our first kiss by now if we were married.” There’s a hint of sarcasm in your tone, one that Jeongguk easily recognizes because his informant, Seokjin, is nothing but shits and giggles. 

“We would have done more than kissing, but we can start slow.” The corners of his lips curl into a playful grin. His words make you freeze, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. 

With your hands linked together, Jeongguk is pulled back by your halted movements. He turns to face you, displaying his pretty eye-smile. “I’m a journalist,” he says. “I write investigative articles when they don’t ask me to cover silly politics.” 

Although it’s not completely true, it’s not totally false at the same time. He writes exposé articles based on the intel he uncovers from his spy missions. The articles that he writes are written under an anonymous name, obviously so he can’t be tracked for exposing highly classified information. Nobody should ever know that he’s digging into the lives of corrupt politicians. Jeongguk might never see the light of day if word gets out. 

“My routine is pretty consistent,” he explains. “I did some research for my article, wrote a few thousand words in my drafts before deciding to scrap the entirety of it, and I picked up Minny from kindergarten. I asked my friend to babysit her while I’m away tonight.” 

Jeongguk wants to scrub his tongue after admitting that Seokjin is his “friend.” 

“What about you? How’s your life at the library?” Jeongguk asks. 

You describe the events that spiraled today as the two of you head inside the coffee shop and place your orders. “Well, the girls seemed convinced that we’re on a date,” you chuckle. 

Jeongguk gasps. His hand clenches against his chest as if he’s wounded by your words. “You mean to tell me this isn’t a date? I thought we had something special.” He feigns exasperation. “You are my wife, after all, aren’t you?” 

You don’t care to admit how amusing it is to hear the word wife coming from him. Despite the smile that plays on your lips, you shake your head no.

“This isn’t a real date,” you explain in denial. Nobody has ever asked you out, and you’ll be damned if the first time is just pretend. “But I guess this is good practice, especially when the stakes are higher for the interview.” 

“Hmm… practice.” A crinkle forms between Jeongguk’s brows, lost in thought. 

“I have to admit that I don’t have a lot of experience with dating, and that’s why we have to practice.” You shake your head, flustered. “Actually, I’ve never even been in a relationship.” 

“Why’s that?” He asks the age-old question. 

“I’m not really the type that people fall for.” You tuck your head between your shoulders, offering a shrug. “I’m quiet ー Not really good with people. I’m a bit of a late bloomer. I spent a lot of my youth taking care of my younger brother.” That’s only the jist of it. You don’t bother getting into the nitty gritty details. Being a full-time assassin isn’t necessarily “first-date appropriate” conversation. 

“How many partners have you had?” You bounce back, diverting the attention away from you. 

“Just one, my wife who passed. We had been together since we were in high school.” The lie seeps through his teeth so easily. It’s terrifying. But the less you know, the better. 

The thought of being Jeongguk’s first “girlfriend” since the passing of his wife makes you incredibly nervous. Upon seeing the sullen avoidance in his eyes, you don’t bring it up again. Instead, you try to lighten the mood.

The two of you fall into a routine of volleying questions back and forth. If you’re planning to convince everyone that you’re husband and wife, you’re going to have to know more than just one another’s (supposed) names and (supposed) professions. 

You start with the easy stuff. “Where did you grow up?” 

“Busan. I miss the sound of the ocean, but I don’t mind the city as long as Minny goes to the best school in the country. What about you?” 

“I grew up in a town so small you wouldn’t be able to find it on the map, but it’s not far from the capital.”

“Cryptic, I like it.” A grin forms onto the corners of lips before he takes a sip of his coffee. 

Over the next hour, you learn that Jeongguk, as robust and intimidating as he looks, is warm and gentle. His favorite thing about being a father is having someone to love and protect. To him, Minji is a bundle of joy who makes his day brighter despite the hurdles that come with being a parent. He would do anything in the world to give his child the life he never quite had. 

Likewise, having lost his parents at a young age, he learned to lead a fulfilling life all on his own. Instead of letting it bog him down, he clings onto the simple things for respite, searching for happiness in every corner of the universe. 

He loves the rain and how it fleetingly smells like the warm and muggy summers of his hometown. Although he doesn’t experience the monsoon season quite like he used to, he loves to watch Minji splash around in her yellow rain boots. His favorite time of day is golden hour, especially when the fluffy white clouds are tinted with orange hues, reminding him of his first dog, Gureum. 

Jeongguk has a slight addiction to black coffee, even if it makes his stomach hurt on the odd occasions (and you suggest he tries tea instead). He likes his eggs scrambled, and he prefers waffles over pancakes. He has plenty of awful habits like singing karaoke at four in the morning followed by cooking a pot of instant ramen to satiate his brutal cravings (yes, his food preferences are vital to your understanding of who Jeongguk is as a person, down to his core). 

He tells you about his trip to Chicago some months ago where he definitely deepthroated a deep dish pizza after being dared by Seokjin. As much as he loved traveling, he was easily home-sick and desperately missing his fix of samgyeopsal. In fact, he tells you he would love to invite you over one day so he can make you a meal. And thank God for that because you are not handy in the kitchen whatsoever. 

You learn that not necessarily all of his tattoos have meaning. The tiger is an emblem of his country while the tiger lily is his birth flower, and it is a silent, desperate plea to be loved. There’s a silly emoji on his middle finger just because he thinks it’s funny. He hates having to cover it up when he goes to work (tattoos may not have been the smartest idea knowing that he has to keep his identity a secret, but the damage is already done), and he’s certain that everybody judges him for the ink on his arms. 

“As long as you like your tattoos, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.” You offer him a warm smile as though nothing could ever hurt him. God, how he wishes that was true. 

For some reason, Jeongguk doesn’t know how to react to your words. He’s only ever been told to cover up his skin as if he has something to be ashamed of.  

In exchange for his stories, you trade Jeongguk pieces of your life. How your favorite memory from youth was when you had taken the city bus an hour and a half down to the beach with your brother, San, where you’d build sand castles on the brink of collapse. Sometimes, the smell of salt air and the longing for August still lingers to this day. 

You tell him about your attempt at joining the knitting club so you could make cute sweaters and vests. They were never perfect. But at least they kept your brother warm during the winters. Besides, you had fun playing dress-up with him. Jeongguk finds that perhaps the boldest thing you’ve ever done is bleach your hair strawberry blonde, only for it to turn out orange. 

His laughter blooms through his chest when you tell him about the time you almost set the microwave on fire. Your mom never told you that aluminum foil doesn’t belong in there, and you had to learn that the hard way. That’s probably why you should never set foot in the kitchen again. Nevertheless, you made mistake after mistake just so that San could have food on the table everyday after school. At least you’ve perfected the art of cutting fruit at this point ー no cooking skills required. 

Although the two of you talk for what seems like hours, you can’t help but think there’s so much more to this man, and he’s unwilling to share. It doesn’t necessarily bother you because you, too, have secrets of your own. You can’t expect him to reveal everything about his life, even if he never does. 

It’s well into the evening when Jeongguk walks you home. The path is quiet. It’s illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps. It feels like a scene from a movie you’ve once watched ー the origin of all your teenage fantasies. But this is real. You’re just a girl, standing in front of a boy, and that’s where it all begins. 

“y/n?” The way he says your name brings you to a halt. His voice, although usually confident, is timid and uncertain. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We still have a lot to talk about.” He looks at you with stars in his eyes, although none of them belong to you, and they could never be yours. 

Your lips press together in a tight line, nodding your head in affirmation. As you bid your goodbyes, you wonder if it would be inappropriate to give him a hug. After all, you’ve only just met the day prior, and this is nothing but pretend. Yet how will you ever grow accustomed to the touch of your husband?

Your arms remain crossed over your chest. You look down at your shoes, kicking a loose pebble at the front of your door, contemplating. 

But he reaches for your hand, lightly grasping around your fingers. You jolt back as if he set your nerves aflame. Your gaze lifts toward his eyes, but it quickly lowers as Jeongguk descends down to one knee. 

Your heart pounds against your chest, and you pray that he cannot hear it. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a proper ring…” He begins. “I hope you can accept this for now, and I swear I’ll get a diamond on your hand one day ー As big as you want.” 

Jeongguk carefully pulls a small metal band from his pocket. It can easily be confused for the end piece of a keychain ー perhaps it’s something that his daughter had left behind in his coat, never to be remembered. But for Jeongguk, he knows perfectly well that it’s the pin from a grenade he had tossed the week prior on an escape mission. He slides the ring onto your finger, and although it is slightly too large, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I may not have been your first choice of a partner, and for all I know, I could have been dead last, but thank you for sticking by me. I swear I’ll take care of you. I’ll hold your heart with gentle hands, and I won’t ever let it break.” 

After all, this is just pretend. 

But for some reason, his voice sounds so earnest, and you almost believe him. To be frank, you never really cared about lavish weddings and seven carat diamonds. If you were to ever look for a companion, all you could ask for is an honest partner. 

Too bad Jeon Jeongguk is anything but that.

Throughout the next week, you spend more and more time getting to know your new “boyfriend.” Because of this, you have to put your side hustle on pause and constantly decline assignments on your burner phone. You certainly wouldn’t want Jeongguk to overhear your plans to murder while he sits pretty beside you, waiting to hear about your day ー your hopes, your dreams, and anything else that’s on your mind. But it would be a shame if you cut your dates early, only to spend less than a second to put a bullet through your enemies’ heads.

You’d have much more fun with Jeongguk instead. Because he tends to plan the cutest surprise dates, and they’re so incredibly thoughtful. Sometimes, Minji would accompany your dates when Seokjin can’t babysit (he’s too busy trying to find his own baby mama so he can prove Minji wrong). Nevertheless, Minji adores the time that you spend together because it feels like you’re a real family.

The three of you would drive to the movies, play boardgames, and eat ice cream for dinner. Jeongguk had even taken you both to the annual carnival that you desperately wanted to check out. He wasn’t fond of going because those claw machines and arcade games are absolute scams! Yet you caught the smug grin on his face when he finally won a stuffed bunny after downing fifty bucks. He was just so addicted to the thrill of nearly winning: “I could have gotten that!” 

During your dates, you would laugh for hours on end, but by the end of the night, Minji would fall asleep on her father’s shoulder. That’s usually your cue to head home. Sometimes, you think that he might kiss you goodnight, but he never does. His lips only ever brush your knuckles like the gentleman that he is. 

…

True to his word, Jeongguk invites you over for dinner the following Friday.

When you arrive at his apartment, you are instantly the worst houseguest known to mankind. Your umbrella is dripping wet from the pouring rain, effectively ruining Jeongguk’s wooden floors. However, that’s not the problem that Jeongguk has with you. The problem is that you’re unable to stop laughing at Jeongguk’s attire. 

Surely, your parents had taught you to be kind, especially to your hosts. Well, when Jeongguk swings the door open, revealing a frilly apron, something akin to what your grandmother would wear, you couldn’t help it! A picture of My Melody is stamped onto the chest, staring straight into your soul. 

It isn’t lost on you ー the irony of a big, strong man, no doubt subjected to dress up in his daughter’s choice of clothing. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jeongguk pouts, tilting his head like a puppy. 

You stifle your giggle behind a tight lipped smile, but you’re so close to bursting at the seams. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

After placing your shoes at the door, Jeongguk leads you into his humble abode. He takes the bottle of chardonnay from your hands, thanking you for the gift, and places it onto the dining table. 

“Dinner should be ready in an hour,” he informs you. 

“I know I’m not very useful in the kitchen, but if you need help-” 

Before you can even think about lifting a finger, Jeongguk is quick to suggest an alternative. “No, don't worry, you’re my guest. Just relax, okay? Minny is in the living room. You should spend time with her.” 

In the adjacent room, Minji is crouched over her study material. Her worksheets spread across the coffee table. Each question covers a different subject: basic biology, political science, religion and ethics, foreign language, etc. You never quite realized how much pressure children face in the education system. 

After all, you were never really concerned with grades. You never thought about applying to the top school in the nation. In fact, your grades had fallen down a slippery slope by the time you were in high school. Rather, all of your time was dedicated to earning money and supporting your family. 

When you sit beside Minji, she beckons you closer before you can even greet her. “I’m dying. Help me,” she pleads with wide eyes. You look down to see her math homework ー fractions, Minji’s sworn enemy. 

“Appa wants me to study, but he won’t give me the answers,” Minji whines. 

You can’t help but chuckle. “Minny, you have to figure out the answers on your own if you want to do well.”

The sound of your advice makes her drop her head on the table with a soft thump. 

“Here, let’s do a few questions together,” you suggest. 

Try as you might, you only manage to complete half of the assignment. Minji huffs, slightly frustrated when she doesn’t understand the concept. 

You pat her back, consoling the small child. “Once you eat dinner, you’ll have more brain energy. Maybe you just need a break.” 

A lightbulb goes off above her head, and she springs to her feet. “Appa! Can I give eomma a tour of the house?” 

You tilt your head, amused by the sound of Minji calling you her mother. 

“That sounds like a great idea!” Jeongguk cranes his neck to peek at his devious daughter. “Just make sure you study again when you’re done.” 

Minji takes her father’s approval as a cue to grab your hand in hers, showing you every corner of the house ー all of her drawings taped to the fridge, her favorite stuffed animals lined up at the end of the bed, and the sparkly clean toilet where she poops every morning. After describing everything in excruciating detail, you could have sworn that Minji would run out of words to say. But she never does. 

“What’s behind that door?” You point to the end of the hall. 

“That’s appa’s bedroom. He told me I should never go in there unless he gives me permission.” 

You suppose it’s healthy to set boundaries between you and your child. It’s not like Jeongguk has distasteful art hanging on his walls, and it’s not likely that he’s hiding a dead body in there. He doesn’t seem to be the type to store skeletons in the closet. You, on the other hand, now that’s a different story. Perhaps Jeongguk just needs a little privacy at the end of every night. 

Minji’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “Eomma! This is your room! Well, it’s a guest room, but appa says it’s basically yours if you ever want a place to stay.” 

You step into the final room, glancing around the walls at a loss of words. Your eyes are drawn to the shelves. They’re brimming with so many novels. It’s like your own personal library. You could probably spend the entire day just browsing through each book. 

As you slide open one of the drawers, you’re surprised to find an array of period products. There are also makeup wipes, an abundance of face masks, some sunscreen, and essential oils (apparently, women love that sort of stuff according to an article Jeongguk had bookmarked). There’s even a candle that’s labeled ‘ocean breeze.’

“Do you like it?” Minji looks up at you with wide, glimmering eyes as she uncaps the candle, shoving her entire nose against the wax with a hard whiff. 

“I love it, Minny, thank you for the tour. I really appreciate it. You should get back to your studies. I’ll help your dad with dinner, but if you need my help, just call me, okay?” 

Minji sniffles theatrically and drags her feet into the living room. 

You head towards the kitchen to find Jeongguk slicing a daikon radish with military precision. There’s soft music playing in the background, accompanied by the pouring rain outside, occasionally interrupted by the soft huff of frustration when Jeongguk’s bangs cover his eyes. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms covered in tattoos. 

Jeongguk finally looks up at you in the doorway. He flashes you a smile ー delighted, and very much enamored. “How was the tour?” 

“Your home is so cozy. But I don’t know if I was supposed to look at the top secret file you forgot to put away.” 

“I- WHAT?” He yelps. The shock on his face is quickly replaced with an acute pain. The knife had sliced through his palm upon one careless motion. 

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters under his breath, ensuring that Minji won’t hear his foul language.

Jeongguk drops the radish onto the cutting board with a thud. He forces pressure onto the wound with the pad of his thumb to stop the bleeding. In actuality, he’s more concerned about the food than he is about his finger. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You rush over to his side, reaching for his wrist. “Let’s run it under cold water.” 

The two of you waddle towards the small sink, attached by the hip. 

“I was kidding about the secret files. I’m sorry about the cut.” You’re ridden with guilt, seeing that your mindless joke had cost Jeongguk his hand. 

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize. It was my fault. I was the one holding the knife.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t blame yourself either. It happens. I get cuts all the time.” If there’s ever a blade against your skin, it’s usually by the hands of your enemies. You, on the other hand, are a pro when it comes to handling knives. 

Jeongguk shuts the faucet off, examining the cut. It’s shallow. You could hardly see it.

“I’ll grab a bandaid for you,” you offer, already sprinting down the hallway. 

“They’re in the bathroom! Medicine cabinet!” Jeongguk shouts. 

“I know! Minny gave me a tour of everything,” you shout back. You pluck the ointment and the familiar Hello Kitty bandages off the shelf before shuffling back to the kitchen. “Minny shared way too much information about the inventory of your medicine cabinet. Apparently, you have two morphine capsules left. You should get a refill on those.” 

Jeongguk hums in recognition, and you wonder why he would need a painkiller as strong as morphine. 

Taking Jeongguk’s hand in yours, you assess the cut and gently blow on the appendages with the purse of your lips. You place the pink bandage onto his hand, and out of habit, you give him a quick kiss on the booboo. 

When you pull back, you’re absolutely mortified. You avoid his gaze, trying to hide your own humiliation. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. The kids at the daycare always ask for a kiss when they’re injured.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” A rosy hue dusts over Jeongguk’s cheeks. Why is he so shy when he’s usually the bold and courageous one? He’ll be sure to call Seokjin tonight to ask what this means ー to be so flustered and afflicted by your touch. Is his skin supposed to feel like it’s on fire? 

With the look on his face, you’re not quite sure who’s more embarrassed. So you run towards the sink and nervously wash your hands, practically rubbing the skin raw. 

“I’ll cut the radish for you.” You take his place by the cutting board. 

When he asks if you’re sure, you just hum in response, having already started, and he succumbs to your offer. Typically, Jeongguk would not be willing to accept anyone’s help. But there’s warmth and sincerity in your tone.

“Let me tie this for you.” Jeongguk steps behind you, lightly brushing your hair back to keep it out of your eyes. 

Heat rushes to your face, and you nod in agreement. Instantly, Jeongguk separates your hair into three different strands.

“You know how to braid?” you ask, chopping away at the radish. “You can just tie a simple ponytail if you want.” 

“Minny said she wanted to go to school with a French braid. I didn’t know how to do it, so I looked at a video online. I’m not that good, but let me practice, okay?” He ties off your hair with the elastic that he keeps on his wrist for standby. “Tadaaa!” A proud grin sits on his pretty lips. 

You can tell that the braid is a little too loose for your liking, but you’ll be sure to show him how to properly braid later. Perhaps after dinner. “How does it look?” You wonder. 

“You’re perfect,” Jeongguk says affirmatively, sweet as ever. “Here, let me give you an apron.” 

Before you know it, he loops a string of fabric over your head. It sits loosely on the back of your neck. Jeongguk’s hand rests on your shoulder blade, pushing your hips against the counter as he reaches to tie the string around the small of your back. He fixates on the knot that tethers around his thick fingers as he works on the fabric. His breath is hot against your neck. You can feel the heat radiate off of him. 

When he pulls back, you swallow the lump in your throat, sighing a breath of relief. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

The worst part is that Jeongguk doesn’t even realize the effect that he has on you. You wonder when he’ll put an end to this madness. Because at this rate, you think you might explode if he inches any closer to you. 

As it seems, fate has other plans. 

While he watches you cook, he hovers behind you; not because he’s controlling, but because he wants to make sure you’re safe. He has to admit that you’re skilled with a knife, but your cooking techniques aren’t quite there. 

“When you cut, curl your fingers and tuck your knuckles underneath them.” Jeongguk inches closer and places his chin on the crown of your head. He slots himself against your back as his protective arms cage you against the marble counter. His hands slide down from your wrist, careful not to startle you, before cupping them around your fingers. He gently guides your hand, ensuring that you don’t cut yourself. 

You don’t realize that you’ve been holding your breath until he steps away. Maybe cooking isn’t as bad as you make it out to be.

The heavy downpour of rain patters against the windows. 

“It looks like the weather is getting worse. I didn’t realize it would storm tonight,” Jeongguk peeks between the blinds before lighting a few candles. The lamps had been flickering because of the torrential rain. “The roads aren’t very safe. If you want to stay over, you can take the guest room.” 

You nearly drop the cutlery on the table in the midst of setting up dinner. “Ar- are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.” 

“Stop with that, you’re never a bother,” he reassures you. “If you want, I’ll drive you home first thing tomorrow morning.” 

You think about the invitation before ultimately deciding to accept. “Thank you, Jeongguk. And by the way, I really appreciate how you set the room up for me.” You shoot him a grateful smile. 

“Anything for my wife.” The warmth of his words makes your heart flutter. 

When the table is finally set, the three of you settle down for dinner. 

You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the beautiful arrangement of food you have yet to touch. There’s tender pork belly, fermented shrimp, spicy oyster radish, fresh garlic, and pickled cabbage among a bunch of other side dishes you can’t even put a name to. 

“You said you were hungry, right?” Jeongguk picks up the cabbage leaf and stuffs the ingredients inside. He wraps it into a roll and places it on top of your fluffy white rice. 

Watching the steam rise in front of you, you nearly bawl from how delicious it smells. The tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. 

Nobody has ever made you a home-cooked meal since your parents had passed. 

“Are you- uhm,” Jeongguk lifts his hand, not knowing what to do with his own limbs. A set of chopsticks rests between his thumb and pointer finger, fish cake tucked between the silver metal. It hovers halfway across the table, abruptly stopping before he could reach your bowl. “You can cry, it’s okay-” 

You don’t dare to move a single muscle when the tear falls down your cheeks. 

Minji reaches over to wipe the droplet away. You can’t tell if she wants to comfort you, or rather, she’s just looking to steal a bite of your pork belly. But you’re inclined to believe it’s the former. Her father had already served a piece of meat in her bowl. 

“It’s okay, eomma. You can cry. Just… don’t do it over the dishes. You don’t want your food to be salty,” Minji advises. 

Jeongguk calls his daughter’s name, scolding. He plucks out a few tissues from the box and passes them across the table. 

You wipe your eyes, praying that the tears will stop. “I’m sorry, I’m fine,” you shake your head. “I just don’t really remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal with anyone other than myself. I think my parents were the last people to ever cook for me.” 

“What about your brother?” Jeongguk inquires. 

“I’ve always made food for him growing up, and ever since he went to university, he’s been away from home. I really haven’t seen him in a while.” A sullen smile tugs on your lips. “We usually just talk on the phone.” 

Jeongguk topples more food onto your bowl, filling it to the brim. “Whenever you come over, you can have any kind of food that you want. Just name it, and it’ll be yours. Even if I don’t know how to make it, I’ll learn. Now let’s eat up, okay?” He picks up a piece of pork belly, prepared to bribe you like a child who hasn’t stopped crying. 

You open your mouth, allowing him to feed you, humming in satisfaction. You mutter a thank you before putting on your bravest smile as the rain pours outside. 

It’s late in the night when you hear a soft sniffle that echoes from the other side of the bedroom door, followed by a dull strike against the wooden surface, a call for your attention.

“Eomma?”

It never takes you by surprise when a child who isn’t yours calls you their mother. It happens often enough at the daycare center. Tiny humans let the term of endearment slip from their loose lips ー some variation of “mom,” “mommy,” or “eomma.” 

These children cry for you when they have trouble opening their chocolate milk, or when they get a “booboo” from their arts and crafts activity, nothing but a measly, barely-there papercut. These children have an understanding that they’re safe with you. That you’d take care of them like a mother would, opening their bottles, helping to clean their mess, kissing their pain away, and wiping the tears dry. Sometimes they don’t notice their honest mistake, having called you their mother. Other times, they’re apologetic and embarrassed. But what’s there to be embarrassed about? 

The vocabulary of children is limited to only a few hundred words, but they always resort to the one thing they know. Whether it is, “mom,” “mommy,” “eomma,” or so on and so forth, they trust you in the purest form. They feel protected and comforted by you. 

Although you’ve heard it a dozen times before, you’ve never seen a child mean it so earnestly, not like Minji, and definitely not at two in the morning. 

You open the bedroom door, looking down to see her tear stained cheeks. The instinct to protect kicks in like second nature. “Minny, what’s wrong?” 

Lightning flashes through the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder. The little girl flinches with a yelp, squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her hands against her ears. 

“It’s so loud, ‘m scared,” Minji pouts. 

You crouch down to wrap your arms around her shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She shivers in your hold, trying to calm down as you rub soothing circles onto her back. 

“Don’t worry, Minny. The thunder can’t catch you while you’re in here,” you murmur, adjusting the nightcap on the top of her head. “You’re always safe with me.” 

“Can I sleep with you and appa tonight?” Minji asks. 

“Th- the both of us?” Your eyes widen. Perhaps Minji doesn’t quite understand the terms of your arrangement. You’re not actually her mom, and Jeongguk isn’t really your husband. Certainly, sleeping in the same bed as Jeongguk crosses some imaginary boundary. “I- I don’t know if appa would-” 

“Can we ask him?” Minji pleads, and she looks like she’s about to burst. It doesn’t hurt to try, right?

So you relent, and the two of you tiptoe down the hall to Jeongguk’s bedroom, hand-in-hand. There’s a light that leaks from the bottom of the doorway. Could he possibly be awake this late in the night? 

You motion at the door, encouraging Minji to knock. She has to be a big girl, expressing her needs, asking for help when she needs it. 

“Appa!” Minji whacks the palm of her hand against the wooden surface, and you have to correct her form. You squeeze her hands into a fist, showing her how to properly knock and urge her to try again. 

On the other side, you can hear the shuffle of papers and the sound of wheels scraping against the linoleum floor, followed by the pad of footsteps. The door swings open, revealing a set of sleepy eyes, shrouded behind a pair of glasses. Jeongguk’s hair is disheveled, having run his hands through his overgrown mane a million times (he’s been pondering whether he should cut it, but you’ve shyly expressed how he looks handsome either way, and right now is no exception). 

“Appa, can I sleep with the both of you tonight?” Minji hiccups between sniffles, and a tear treads down her cheek. When a crash of thunder sounds through the air, she lurches forward to wrap her arms around her father’s legs, shaking like a leaf.

Jeongguk pats the top of Minji’s head to comfort her. “What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“The sky,” Minji shakes her head, pressing her face deeper into her father’s thigh. “Too loud. It’s scary. Wanna sleep with you and eomma.” 

Normally, Jeongguk would be stressed, weighing his options, trying to determine the best course of action for his child. But there’s a sigh of relief that slips from his lips when his gaze meets yours. There’s a deep blush that spreads across his cheeks. “Is this okay with you?” His lips move in silence, mouthing the words, only for you to see.

In response, you nod your head and flash him a concerned smile. “You?” You mouth the words right back. 

Jeongguk’s answer is obvious when he wraps his arms around the little girl and lifts her into the air. “Let’s go to sleep, Minny.”

Jeongguk taps his chin, pondering, as he stares at the little girl sandwiched in the center of his bed. “Something doesn’t feel right.” But there’s an unmistakable glimmer in his eyes. As tired as he is, he doesn’t seem to let it show. “You know what we should do?” 

Before you can respond, he’s already darting out of the bedroom. He stumbles into the living area, grabbing all the mismatched furniture that he can find. There’s a coat rack in one hand and a stool in another. He runs to grab a fishing pole from the closet, one that he had stolen from Seokjin and never returned. 

“What’re you doing?” Your brows furrow, confused. But the smile on your face tells him that you’re thoroughly entertained. 

“We’re building a fort! Come help me!” He takes hold of your hand and leads you into the living room. “Here, take as many pillows as you can.” Instantly, he holds out a stack of cushions. And who are you to say no? 

With your inventory in hand, you run back to Jeongguk’s bedroom and plop them down onto the bed. “Minny, put the pillows wherever you want! Make it comfy for yourself.” 

The three of you get to work, constructing a pillow fort, and suddenly, you’re five years old all over again. 

Jeongguk returns with spare bed sheets and throw-blankets, tenting them over the makeshift poles. When you’re finally satisfied with your fort, the two of you climb onto the mattress on either side of Minji, huffing and puffing from all the energy exerted. 

“That was fun,” you say, exasperated. A beat of silence passes by as you catch your breath. “Thank you again for letting me sleep over, by the way.” 

There’s fondness in Jeongguk’s eyes as he turns to look at you. “I hope you know that you can stay as long as you want, and you’re always welcomed whenever.” His sentiment makes your heart beat a little faster. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 

“You should know…” As you stare at the roof of the makeshift fort, you try to make sense of how you ended up here. It doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like you deserve it. “Taking care of me is more trouble than it’s worth.” 

Jeongguk’s voice is stern and relentless. “It’s not trouble. Not if it’s you. Do you really think I scare so easily?” 

You think you might cry, but you’ve already used up more than enough tears from your daily allowance. So you turn to thank him, only to be met with Jeongguk’s half-lidded eyes. He only hums in response ー there’s no need to thank him. 

His face is illuminated by the faint glow of the desk lamp on the other side of the room, the one he abandoned in favor of lulling his precious daughter to sleep. Minji holds her father’s hand while you stroke her hair. Within a few short minutes, she’s sound-asleep. The room is quiet, save for her soft snores. 

“Poor Minny, I hope that this doesn’t ruin her sleep schedule,” you whisper into the night. 

“She might need a nap tomorrow, but that’s okay. It happens sometimes.” Jeongguk lets out a yawn as he tugs the blankets up his shoulders. 

You remind him with gentle caution, “What about you? You shouldn’t sleep so late.” 

“I know, I know.” He presses his palms against his eyes, utterly exhausted. “I just wanted to squeeze one more chapter in.” 

You peek out from the gap in the fort, scanning the mess that lies on top of Jeongguk’s desk. Books are stacked across two different piles, separated by genre ー One of them being social psychology books required for his research; “How to Win Friends and Influence People” sits on the very top. 

Another stack is dedicated to the parenting books he often checks out from the library. There are Hello Kitty post-it notes that fill up nearly every page, bookmarked for future reference. 

Your eyes return to Jeongguk’s figure, convinced that you can steal a glance, evaluating his exhausted state. But he already has his eyes trained on you, albeit very groggy. A dopey grin stretches across his lips. If he wasn’t already tired before, he definitely is now. 

“You don’t have to do all this alone, Jeongguk. You need to rest.” You flash him a matching smile, hoping that the sentiment reaches him. “I don’t think that you scare easily, but I don’t think you’re immune to it either. And that’s perfectly okay. We’re all just people trying to get by.” 

Jeongguk sinks deeper into the pillows, succumbing to his sleepy desires. “Thank you,” he murmurs, slurring his words. Another yawn slips from his lips. “I’m just used to it 一 being on my own.” 

“Well, you’re not on your own anymore. You can count on me. We’re a team, remember?” 

Jeongguk hums, reduced to non-verbal responses that don’t require much energy. Exhaustion tugs at his eyelids until they’re shut. He makes a mental note to talk about this with you another day. 

You wave a hand in front of his face, convinced that he’s far gone from the state of consciousness. “If it makes you feel better, I can head back to my room now,” you whisper. You think it might be futile to warn him, considering he’s not awake. But as you peel the blanket back, one foot off the bed, there’s a warmth that envelops your wrist, and you halt in your tracks. 

“Stay,” Jeongguk, as tired as he is, manages to mutter with conviction. 

His grip doesn’t falter, and so, you relent. You crawl back beneath the sheets and let the night fade into dawn. 

The sound of rain splashes against the window. The petrichor smells like childhood. It feels like home, and Jeongguk has never slept so soundlessly in his entire life. 

Somehow, Jeongguk wakes up long before you, and you want to curse him for looking so handsome at the crack of dawn. His hair, although disheveled, looks perfectly imperfect. His shirt, as loose as it is, hugs his body in all the right places, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His round specs perch on the bridge of his nose. 

“What do you think about going on a family outing?” Jeongguk suggests over breakfast. 

Minji’s eyes widen as excitement fills her tiny frame.

“That sounds like a fun idea,” you chime. “We should spend more time together so we can be perfect for the interview.” Because loving this man and his daughter is nothing more than a performance, right? 

 “Maybe we can stop at the convenience store and have a picnic in the park. What do you think?” In Jeongguk’s mind, he maps the layout of the market, pinpointing the food that the three of you would enjoy: kimbap, dried squid, potato chips, banana milk, and even fish shaped ice cream. 

“The weather cleared up today. It’s beautiful outside.” You say, chowing down on a bite of strawberries. 

Jeongguk raises a brow, questioning. “You want to go today? I thought you would want to go home after spending the night.” 

“I don’t have much else planned on a Sunday. It gets kind of lonely at my house,” you shrug. “Are you sick of me already?” 

But Jeongguk shakes his head. He’d be foolish to ever push you away. 

…

In sync, both you and Minji enthusiastically bounce on your feet through the streets of Seoul. You could easily pass as a family from that simple action alone. It’s evident when elders cross paths with you, a fond smile sitting on their faces: “You have a beautiful family!” There’s no denying that. The three of you are picture perfect as you link hands on either side of Minji because she is, in fact, the center of your universe. 

When you arrive at the convenience store, Jeongguk picks out a variety of nutritious food while Minji tries to slip cookies into the basket. She’s convinced that her father is not looking because he’s too busy sneaking glances at you from the other end of the snack aisle. He doesn’t think anyone would notice, but Minji surely does. 

For some reason, he feels so content standing in a supermarket with his wife who picks the freshest fruit, and his daughter who tries to distract him from seeing the junk food in her hands. In fact, he could probably spend the entire day comparing vegetable prices, and he would still have the time of his life with you. He used to hate running errands, unless it was doing laundry. But now, he doesn’t seem to mind it. Perhaps it’s because he has two companions at his side, and it feels a little less lonely. 

“Jeongguk?” You call his name from down the aisle. “Do you want me to grab coffee for you?” You reach for the top shelf on your tippy toes, struggling to grip your hands around the bottle. 

Within an instant, Jeongguk is already at your side. He wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from falling forward. A heat envelops your hand as he wraps his fingers around your palm. “I think I’ll skip on coffee for now. How about tea?” 

Upon hearing his deep voice against the shell of your ear, you grow flustered. The heat of his body makes you freeze, and all you can do is nod your head, stunned. He reaches one shelf over to pluck a large bottle of tea, one that you can all share. 

Although he’s dropped your hand, he keeps a strong arm around your waist. His shoulders are broad enough to simply devour you. Even his chest is so firm pressed against your back.

“By the way, angel, don’t you think we’ve moved on from the formalities?” There’s a pout that rests on his lips. “I’d like it if you could call me something other than Jeongguk. I think it’s more convincing that way.” 

“But that’s your name. What do you want me to call you? Babe? Baby?” 

He shakes his head as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck. His hair brushes against your cheek, and your breath hitches in your throat.

You stutter the words out of your mouth, trying to act unaffected. “H- how about darling? Honey? Sweetie? … Handsome?” 

He doesn’t react to either of them, but handsome definitely makes him giggle. 

You ponder for a moment more. “Then what about love?” 

His arm squeezes your waist a little tighter as he presses an innocent kiss to your cheek. “That’s perfect, angel.” 

He unravels himself from you as you stare blankly at the beverage aisle in complete awe. You brush your fingertips against your cheek where his warmth lingers. 

This is still practice… right? 

As you stroll through the park, you come across a live performance at the base of the fountain. There’s a man playing guitar, and he’s serenading the crowd as he busks for money. The three of you stand to admire just for a moment. 

A few feet away, Minji is spinning and dancing to the soft melody. Meanwhile, Jeongguk moves his head to the beat of the song, singing the words, albeit faintly. 

“You have a pretty voice.” You nudge your shoulders against his to catch his attention. 

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He’s bashful. 

“You should sing for me one day.” You raise your brows, trying to tempt him. 

He contemplates your request, but he teases you with a soft “maybe.” He bumps his shoulder against yours like a high schooler with a crush. 

You return the sentiment in a playful back and forth. His sweet action makes you squeal, but not for the reason that you think. Because the affectionate brush of skin against yours quickly transforms into Jeongguk hauling you into his arms. His thick biceps wrap beneath your thighs, and he lifts you into the air. You can’t stop yourself from giggling when he spins you around. There’s a combination of thrill and euphoria in your chest. 

Jeongguk’s mind briefly wanders back to the conversation he had with Minji right before he tucked her into bed last night. “Appa, do you have a crush on eomma?” 

He had scoffed at the question, brushing it off as if that was far from the truth. But Minji had thought otherwise. “When you have a crush on someone, you think about them all the time. You want them to be happy, and you would do anything to make them smile. Whenever you look at eomma, I can see your ears go red. I think you were shy when she kissed your booboo, and you probably want to kiss her back, right?” For some reason, Minji’s advice seemed to be more introspective than what he could ever pull out of Seokjin. 

Jeongguk shakes his head, returning back to reality as he tucks the memory away. When he places you on the ground, you pant with adrenaline. “I thought I was going to fall.” 

His gaze meets yours, and he playfully brushes his knuckles beneath your chin. The peak of sunset illuminates your eyes, and you look golden. An epiphany flashes through his mind, and Jeongguk mutters a curse that echoes through his thoughts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wants to kiss you. 

But as usual, Jeongguk’s mind wins over his heart. He bites his tongue back and offers the next best thing: “Do you think I’d ever let you fall?” He grabs your hands as if nothing had happened ー as if he isn’t falling in love ー and you sway to the beat of the music, skipping to the lawn where you can enjoy your picnic. 

…

The park is bustling with so many individuals going about their day, minding their own business. The city comes alive with all of the action that surrounds you. 

“Eomma, what’s that over there?” Minji points at an art display at the other end of the fountain. There’s a throng of people, crowding around the small space. The three of you pack up your meal, making sure to toss all of your garbage, before heading over to catch sight of the action. 

There are rows of copy paper attached to a fishing line. It strings across a makeshift perimeter, rooted with no rhyme or reason. Apparently, all the buzz is about an interactive exhibit. Anonymous letters from passersby are posted for you to view, and you may even contribute by submitting your own story. You could write about anything you want. 

“That sounds like a fun idea,” Jeongguk suggests. So he grabs paper and markers for the three of you as you get to work. 

Jeongguk tries to steal a glance at your story, but you throw your body over the paper. 

“Hey, no peeking!” you shout. “These stories are supposed to belong to strangers, okay? Let’s keep it anonymous.” 

On the other hand, Minji is enthusiastic to show her father the family portrait she’s drawn. 

As the minutes pass, you finish jotting your thoughts. It’s not perfect by any means, but the sentiment is still there. When all is said and done, you’ve agreed that you wouldn’t read one another’s stories. One day, you both will disclose the contents of your letter, and you will finally know the truth, but today is not that day. 

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Dear reader, If I’m being honest, I’ve always felt undesirable. Nobody has ever confessed their feelings for me. I’ve never been in a relationship, nor have I had my first kiss. I’ve never been stopped in the middle of the street, only to be told that I have a beautiful smile. I’ve always been average at best.  My friends are concerned that I’m lonely. They’re convinced that I need someone to take care of me, but I constantly tell them that I can do it on my own. I’ve done it my entire life.  I’ve held my own hand, swallowed the heartache, and reminded myself “I can do this!” before doing the scary things I never wanted to do. I patted myself on the back when I finished school, earned my first job, and paid all my overdue bills. I raised my younger brother at the age of eighteen as if I was a single mother. I woke up to an empty bed every single day and fed myself scraps of food, even when I didn’t want to. Sometimes, it was burnt, charred, and a little too salty. But that’s what love tastes like, right? Through the smooth sailing and the rough patches, there was no boyfriend, no girlfriend, no partner or lover. Just me. But the more that I think about it, I am so, so tired.  Perhaps I grew up too fast and burned too bright. Because now, I don’t know what to do. There’s a guy that I like, or at least I think I do. Nobody ever taught me how to sort out my feelings. I’ve always been told to give and give and give. I’ve had to sacrifice my life, my time, and all of my energy. I was never allowed to feel anger, sadness, or human connection. I never had anything for myself, and I feel empty.  But lately, being with him brings me to life.  Although I don’t know what it’s like to be in love, this is the closest thing I’ve ever felt to it. When I’m with him, my inner child wants to come out and play. That little girl has always lived in my imagination. I don’t know her very well, but she’s running around, laughing and dancing as if she knows no pain. With him, she is always reminded that she is beautiful and spectacular. That she is stronger than anyone he knows. She is safe. She is protected. Above all, she feels seen. She gets ice cream for dinner, and it’s sweet. It doesn’t quite taste like the love she once knew, but somehow, she thinks it’s even more delicious.  Surely, yes, I can take care of myself. But maybe we can learn to take care of each other. 

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Hi. I don’t know who cares to read this, but if you do, welcome.  Where do I even begin? I know this sounds pathetic, but… I don’t think anyone has ever truly understood me for who I am. Perhaps that’s my fault. I constantly reinvent myself to be the person that they want me to be. Society has so many expectations as to how I should look, how I should act, and how I should feel.  Let me paint you a picture. I’m big ー horribly buff. I have tattoos and long hair. All the neighborhood grandmas tell me I should cut it because I’d be more handsome. They even tell their grandchildren not to look up to me because I’m far from being an aspiration. Even if I’m the most charming person in the room… if I change my appearance ー if I lose weight, cover my tattoos, and buzz off my hair, they’d find another reason to hate me. It’ll never be enough. They’ll always perceive me as the bad guy and villainize me for everything I do. They say it’s better to be feared than to be loved if I cannot be both. But… I think I want to be loved. I want to be loved so bad that I would do anything to make people look at me. Yet they all shove their unwanted opinions down my throat, and I have nothing left to swallow but my own pride. I have no choice but to be exactly what they want.  Most people assume that I’m indestructible. Fortified. That I don’t have a single worry in this world. They think that I can shoulder all of these burdens, and nothing could possibly hurt me. Supposedly, I don’t ever cry ー I never break or bend or shatter because showing emotion is a sign that I’ve already lost.  But it’s not true.  I’m softer than I look. I worry that I’m not good enough. I feel like I suck at my job, and I constantly make mistakes. I don’t know how to be a good father, but I try.  I don’t really know what I want to say. I just wish that people didn’t feel entitled to my body. My body is my own except when it isn’t. It happens more often than not. Maybe then, I could finally be myself, whoever that may be.  It sounds like my life is awful, but I promise it isn’t that bad. Recently, I’ve found a small glimmer of hope. There’s one person who accepts me for who I am. She doesn’t expect me to be anyone but myself. She looks at me like I’m human ー as if I’m someone who’s worth it. Like I’m more than just an idea. She showed me that there’s kindness in this world ー that there’s bravery in being soft. She sees me, and scary enough, I think she can even see right through me. I’ve told her so many vulnerable things about myself, and she could probably stab me in the back with all that she knows. I think it would be worth it though.  There’s still so much I have to tell her. She may not know the whole truth, but one day, she will. I hope she doesn’t leave me when she finds out. Until then, I will take care of her. I will keep her safe and protect her with every inch of my life. I promise.

By the end of the week, you and Jeongguk have amped yourselves up for Yumi’s engagement party. But there’s one problem. 

Jeongguk is late. 

He’s never late. When he needs to pick up his daughter from school, he always shows up thirty minutes before dismissal. On date nights, he knocks on your door while you’re in the midst of putting on makeup, and he gladly watches you doll yourself up for the entire hour. For Jeongguk to be late, something must be terribly wrong. 

The two of you had agreed to meet up at Yumi’s party seeing that Jeongguk was running behind from work. But where could he possibly be when you need him the most? 

Outside of Yumi’s apartment complex, you pace anxiously, twiddling with the engagement present in your hands ー a cast iron skillet that you and Jeongguk had both bought at the department store. From the sidewalk, you can hear the sound of music streaming from the open windows. Endless chatter filters between each beat. You glance at your watch for what feels like the hundredth time. 

“Jeongguk, where are you?” You groan, ready to accept defeat. 

A nervous sigh falls from your lips. Your shoulders slump. If you have to wait any longer, you might just head into the party all on your own and lose face in front of your friends. 

Suddenly, you hear the echo of your name from down the street. Jeongguk is sprinting towards you. He’s a blur of motion. Before you realize it, the air is knocked out of your lungs. Jeongguk had overestimated his speed, missed his landing, and he is colliding into you with open arms. 

“Angel, I’m so sorry I’m late.” He tucks his head against your shoulder, panting. His cheeks are hot, and his hair is disheveled. He murmurs apologies against your skin. The scratch of his voice etches a frown onto your face. 

Between the two of you, Jeongguk is the more composed one. You’ve always known him to be calm, collected, a little silly, but lovely nevertheless. You’ve never seen him quite like this. He’s shaking. 

You squeeze his shoulders in an attempt to peel his body away from yours. But his arms wrap around your waist even tighter, unwilling to part ways. This scene is rather familiar, something akin to a little child seeking comfort. You pat his back, hushing him, as to tell him that everything will be okay. 

So you start counting to ten, reminding him to breathe in and out. You place your hand on his chest, strong and reliable, right over the beat of his heart. His eyes close, concentrating all of his energy on the blooming feeling inside of his ribcage. So you paint a pretty picture for him as you dwell in a little puddle of grief together. 

“My mom used to tell me that if you transport yourself to a happy place, then all your worries will melt away.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t respond, but he hums against your collarbone. He wants nothing more but to hear you talk. He loves the sound of your voice. What is your happy place? 

“These days, I picture myself with you in your house. We’re baking a cake with Minny, and it’s going terribly wrong.” You let out a chuckle, and it’s the sweetest thing Jeongguk has ever heard. “Well, actually, the taste is perfect. You’re the head chef after all, and you’re so talented. You know better than me.” 

You interrupt your own story with something that will definitely make him laugh. “Did you know that I’ve been borrowing cookbooks from the library? I know it sounds ridiculous. I want to get better so you don’t have to cook all the time. It’d be such a shame if I accidentally poisoned you and the cops would swarm in, charging me with second degree murder.” You can feel his smile against your neck. “I found a recipe for buckwheat noodles, and maybe we should try it out next weekend.” 

He nods against your neck, sniffling. He doesn’t want to break it to you, but all you need is a boiling pot of water to cook the noodles. 

“Well anyways, in my happy place, the kitchen is a disaster because there’s icing everywhere. Sprinkles are in your hair. I think I have flour in my bra and butter on my cheek. But we’re having fun, singing along to the radio with all of the wrong lyrics. I’d ask you to dance, and when you’re too scared of looking stupid, Minny would pull out a dance move that’s even sillier than what you could ever imagine. Because even if we can’t do it perfectly, whether it is cooking or dancing or singing, we’re still trying.”

There’s a wet tear that falls onto your collarbone. You trace a circle against Jeongguk’s chest, reminding him to concentrate all of his feelings right there. His shoulders relax and his breath evens out. 

“When we’re in our happy place, we never go hungry. So if you ever feel sad or anxious, then just meet me right here. I’ll bring the cake ー sorry, just the ingredients, actually, but I’ll get better at cooking. I swear! Minny will bring her cute attitude. And you can just bring yourself.” 

There’s a soft breeze that surrounds you. The moonlight conspires with the flight of the fireflies, illuminating the dim sidewalk. The party is long forgotten as you hold onto Jeongguk for just another moment. Reluctantly, he steps back with his head down. His eyes train on the pavement.

“How do you feel, love? Look at me.” You cup his cheeks, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling into your embrace. 

After taking a deep sigh, he lifts his head to reveal a bruised cheek and a gash above his eye, right on the brow bone. The blood runs dry. 

Shock runs through your body. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?” You gently  move his head from side to side, examining every inch of his skin to check for more injuries. But your eyes are frantic. Your hands run through his hair, feeling for bumps and bruises. The search comes up empty, but your throat constricts at the thought of someone hurting your husband. 

You grab the cast iron skillet, wielding it like a weapon with the force of a grip so tight that it threatens to bend beneath your fingers. Your other hand clenches his palm, stomping in the direction he came from so he could lead you towards the perpetrator. 

Whoever did this to Jeongguk is going to pay, and you’re willing to kill whoever it is. Because for him, you would wage a full on war, running straight into your demise if it meant fighting for him. You would barrel through fire, load your rifles, and draw your daggers no matter what it takes. If they ask you to rip your heart out and put it in his hands, you would have considered the deal done long ago. 

Jeongguk is quick to extinguish the fiery passion that fuels your anger, reminding you to not make any rash decisions. The flash of his doe eyes is enough to soothe your worries, and all you want to do is hold him. 

The truth is, Jeongguk had already taken care of the situation. As the story goes, he had accepted a side mission to stop the smuggling of antiques from a museum ー gifts from a billionaire tycoon who had long passed. His heirs had sent the treasures to be appraised in the city before it was quickly intercepted by a smuggling ring. 

Jeongguk managed to save original art from dynasties past (no doubt stolen), rare coins, china sets, and clusters of intricate jewelry. He stopped the ploy before the thieves had even left the warehouse. However, being the best of the best does not mean he is able to escape unscathed every time. 

Jeongguk did not account for the hidden explosives on the agenda. A shrapnel had grazed his skin, forming a deep gash above his brow bone. Had he not been more careful, he would have been in much worse shape. 

Although Jeongguk had completed his mission, barely injured, he can’t help but feel guilty for showing up late. If his wound was much more serious, or perhaps he was left for dead, he would not have made it to Yumi’s engagement party. The last thing Jeongguk wants is to keep you waiting. 

While he zipped through the streets of Seoul, he didn’t even have a chance to think of a lie. All he could think about was running to you. So he says the first thing that comes to mind. “The airbags in my car set off.” 

“You were in a crash? Was Minny with you? What are you doing here? You should go to a hospital!” The words splutter out of your mouth.

His hand cups yours as they rest on his cheeks. “Minny’s with Seokjin today, so don’t worry. The collision was really minor, I swear. I already went to the emergency room, and they said I’ll be good as new.” His voice is eerily calm. 

He laces his fingers with yours and presses his lips against your knuckles before promptly taking the iron skillet from your hands. “I don’t want you to worry, let’s just go to the party, okay?” 

You’re too concerned to even dwell on that tender moment of intimacy. “You worry me too much, you know?” 

“I know, angel. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” 

You squeeze his hand a little tighter as you shake your head. “I don’t need anything. I’m just glad that you’re here.” 

But little do you know, there’s a diamond ring worth millions burning a hole in Jeongguk’s pocket. Some dead billionaire isn’t going to miss it. 

Everyone at the event is captivated by Jeongguk. Of course they would. It’s easy when Jeongguk is so charming in such a deceitful way. He can easily spin different versions of himself after each new greeting, creating a hundred nuances to his personality in an instant. He could tell everyone that he’s the prince of Joseon, and they would easily fall for his lies because of the charisma that he oozes. 

Your friends see him as the best boyfriend in the world, someone who’s the total package and simply put, he’s way out of your league. He’s romantic in every aspect of the word, he’s open about his feelings, and he’s the purest definition of a “girl dad.” What more could you possibly ask for? Whatever it is, Jeongguk is exactly that. 

Even when Jeongguk has no need to impress the men at the party, he has dozens of conversation topics up his sleeve. It’s impressive when he knows basically everything about everything. You name it: video games, boxing, and the federal reserve. This arsenal of information is stored in his mind simply because he’ll never know when he needs to strike up a conversation about camping, barbecuing, or fishing (despite never having an interest to sit and stare at the water with Seokjin for hours on end). Men are so simple minded. They’re absolute fools. 

Thankfully, your brother, San, is just another man who falls for the thinly veiled ruse. He seems to approve of your relationship with Jeongguk. Mostly because he can talk about their passion for different cuts of meat. But also because he sees the way that your “boyfriend” takes care of you in the most subtle ways ー by virtue, it’s the act of noticing. 

Jeongguk walks you through the crowds of people with a guiding hand on your lower back. He fixes your hair when it falls loose in front of your face. He refills your cup with your favorite drink without ever having to ask. He can’t stop talking about how grateful he is to have a chance with you ー how you’re so beautiful and smart and the only thing he ever wants. There’s obviously love and intention in Jeongguk’s eyes whenever he looks at you. Anyone could see that. To be loved is to be known, and Jeongguk knows you like the back of his hand. 

You can feel the pressure of having to prove your relationship when all of the girls gather around, asking invasive questions. How did you convince y/n to go out with you? We almost lost hope for the poor girl. Have you all hung out as a family yet? What does Minji think of your relationship? 

For some reason, it feels like you’re back in high school, listening to locker room gossip. It feels as if they’re judging you. They’re laughing at you. But time and time again, Jeongguk defends you and your honor. Not because you need his help, but because you love the safety and security of his words.

“I don’t appreciate you being passive aggressive. Because to me, y/n is the most precious person in the world. If you have something you want to say, then just say it to my face.” He bites back without ever breaking eye contact. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. It’s equal parts intimidating and the most attractive thing you have ever seen. 

All the girls seem to agree when they swallow a trace of spit and nod their heads in obedience. “Sorry, we just wanted to say that you’re both so lucky to find one another.” They drop the subject, but only for a little while. 

Throughout the party, Jeongguk holds you close because he knows how nervous you were to come, and rightfully so. You told him how scared you were to introduce him to all of your friends (he doesn’t see why they deserve that title when they’re nothing but mean girls). Nevertheless, you’re frightened because your relationship with Jeongguk is sacred. Untainted. Unconventional, yes. But it’s protected because only you know about the depths of your bond. After tonight, everything will change. Having your “friends” witness your love so openly feels as if you have to give up another piece of yourself. After making this public knowledge, nothing could ever fully be yours.

But this moment right here is yours to keep, yours to hold, and yours to cherish. Jeon Jeongguk is in your arms, and all you can do is make it known that you are in love. 

“Whatever they say, ignore them, okay? Just look at me.” His arm wraps around your waist, and you relax in his hold. The stars in his eyes keep you captivated, and everything else is long forgotten. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, scared that if he were to go up one decibel, it would burst the little bubble that you’ve created for yourselves. Perhaps you would disappear if he says your name any louder, and he would wake up to realize that his dream girl is nothing but a figment of his imagination. 

But there’s nothing about this relationship that’s fake. Your brother can see it all. Although you haven’t hung out with him in ages, he’s very intrigued with the man hanging off of your arm. “Jeongguk, when did you realize that y/n was the one?” 

“Stop, we just started dating.” You smack the back of San’s head. But Jeongguk isn’t one to shy away from the question. 

“Well, it’s a funny story. The first time I saw her, I thought I had to talk to her. A few months ago, I dropped my daughter off at the daycare. When I walked past the door, I tripped on my own two feet. I saw y/n reading a story at the front of the class. She was so elegant, graceful, and just so, so gorgeous. My first thought was that she is the most incredible person I’ve ever seen.” Jeongguk tells the story without ever taking his eyes off of you. It’s as if you’re the only person in the whole world. There’s a beaming smile stretched across his face. His dimples are carved into his cheeks. 

“Minji, my daughter, she has a tendency to cry when I’m not there. So when she bursted into tears, y/n asked if she wanted to sit with her and help her read. She put my daughter on her lap, and instantly, Minny stopped crying.

“For weeks, I tried to work up the courage to approach her. I visited as much as I could. I borrowed more materials than I could even finish, and eventually, I had a pile of overdue books sitting in my apartment. When y/n wasn’t busy with the daycare, she worked at the front desk. I thought she might say something about my outstanding charges, but she never did. At that point, I wanted to talk to her so bad, but I was so foolish. I started bringing cups of coffee into the library, thinking that she would yell at me for breaking the rules.” 

“Did it work? Why didn’t you just say something?” San wonders. 

“I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t think she was interested. She barely looked at me. Never tried to initiate small talk,” Jeongguk shrugs. 

Avoiding eye contact is exactly how you show interest in someone. Is there any other way to do it? You had been so nervous to even glance in his general direction! Men don’t ever give you affection, especially not men as gorgeous as Jeongguk. It just felt so wrong to even think about crushing on him. 

“But one day, y/n approached me first by some miracle, and I was so shocked. I- I just thought she was an angel. My daughter was at her side. We talked. One thing led to another. The next thing I knew, I was stressing about what outfit to wear and buying flowers so I could pick her up for a coffee date. I don’t even know how to explain it. Everything just fell into place.” 

You were convinced that Jeongguk had never noticed you before you approached him that fateful day in the non-fiction aisle. But it rings true that Minji had cried some months ago during reading time. You recall all of the details, albeit vaguely. Had Jeongguk been watching all this time? Did he really borrow an excessive amount of books and purposely buy illicit coffee just to get your attention? 

There’s a soft smile that plays on your lips, and Jeongguk is certain that you’re a real life angel. “I hope you know that I waived your overdue fees every single time,” you confess. 

…

At some point in the night, you and Jeongguk ended up separating in the most nightmarish of ways. Your coworkers had looped their arms around yours and pulled you away for some girl talk. 

Meanwhile Jeongguk is at the other end of the hall, playing billiards with all of the other men. He socializes with them as if it’s effortless. He tells them jokes and makes them chuckle, but of course, his laugh is the one that stands out to you the most. He’s enchanting, and you are all but a moth drawn to a flame. He lights up every room he walks into, shining brighter than anything you’ve ever seen.

As you watch Jeongguk have his own fun, you check out of the conversation, barely listening to what Yumi has to say. You couldn’t quite relate to the stories that they’ve shared about their partners ー being engaged, moving in together, trying for children, having sex. 

“y/n, how big is your boyfriend?” 

You ponder the question. “Uhm, I don’t know his weight exactly…” 

“No, no, sweetie, I mean how big is his dick?” 

Your eyes widen in surprise as you shake your head. “We haven’t actually done anything yet. Our relationship is new, y’know. Also, I don’t think that’s any of your business-” 

“You mean you haven’t even seen him naked? Surely you’ve touched him when you’ve made out, right?” Their eyes widen when you shake your head no, trying to sputter a retort. 

“Even if you’re taking it slow, you must know what he likes in bed, right? Spitting? Choking? Spanking? A little bit of roleplay? Does he like to be called daddy?”

You, yourself, nearly choke on your own drink. 

“Most couples get intimate because- I hate to break it to you-” Yumi leans closer to you until her voice is all but a whisper. “All men have needs. If they aren’t met, then he might break up with you and look for satisfaction elsewhere.” 

You don’t know why you would believe Yumi’s words despite Jeongguk’s constant reassurance of how much you mean to him. She’s so fucking infuriating, but could she be right? Does Jeongguk see other women when you’re not around? Does he ever tell you that you’re pretty just for the performance of being a married couple? Has everything he said in the past few weeks been an act? Surely, you don’t know everything about this man, but would he ever lie to you? You bite the inside of your cheek as you anxiously pick on the skin around your nails, thinking about her advice. 

Seemingly, Jeongguk doesn’t know what the conversation is about. But he doesn’t need to be familiar with the details to know that you’re growing anxious. He can see it from the way you fiddle with your hands. From the way you furrow your brows and chew on your lips. From down the hall, he can pick up on your breathing. He can practically hear the hurricane of thoughts swirling around your head.

Before you can drown in your thoughts, Jeongguk makes his way over to you, nursing a glass of champagne in his hand. “Hi, angel.” He whispers against your jaw. His cheeks are flushed pink as his head rests against the crook of your neck, slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. “Do you want to get out of here? You can stay over at my place tonight if you want,” he offers.  

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You shift your gaze to the gash on his brow. Even when you don’t feel your best, you’re still concerned for those around you. That’s just the person you are. You’re so used to giving yourself away. 

“Kind of,” he says. But it hurts more knowing that you’re not okay. 

You ruffle your hands through his hair, trying to soothe his ache. “Do you want your painkillers?”

“Just want you.” His deep voice rumbles against your collarbone as he presses a shy kiss to your shoulder. “Come on, let’s go home.” He gently grabs your hand in his and leads you out the front door. You don’t even have a chance to say goodbye to all the guests. Quite frankly, you don’t even care. 

The moment you return to Jeongguk’s apartment, you dart to the medicine cabinet, filling a glass of water and instructing him to swallow the morphine pill. To soothe the pain, you apply some ointment onto his injury and gently blow on his gash, hoping that it doesn’t leave a scar to mar his beautiful face. But you avoid eye contact with him as much as you can. All while Jeongguk stares at your pretty lips and your glittery eyes. You look so cute when you’re concerned. A pout rests on your face, and he wants nothing more than to kiss it better. 

But then you bid him goodnight, rushing into the guest room, pacing back and forth behind closed doors. 

Jeongguk sits in the living room, stunned, wondering if he’s done something wrong. Whether his breath smells, or maybe he’s come on too strong. Is it obvious how much he cares for you? Yet a part of him wants you to know, even if you don’t reciprocate. To love you so freely is enough for him. 

For you, the problem is not Jeongguk. It’s the fact that you can’t stop thinking about the conversation from earlier in the night. Yumi’s voice echoes through your thoughts. All men have needs. If they aren’t met, then he might break up with you and look for satisfaction elsewhere.

A part of you needs Jeongguk to tell you that this isn’t true. Your heart and mind may not be able to rest otherwise. So for the sake of your fake relationship, you put on a brave face and patter down the hall to his room. 

…

The soft knock on Jeongguk’s door draws his attention away from the vanity. As soon as he tells you to come in, you hesitantly enter his bedroom. 

His back is turned as he faces the mirror, heedlessly applying his skincare. “What’s up? Do you need anything?” He spins around to meet you with curiosity written on his face. 

You catch a glimpse of his exposed chest, and your cheeks heats up in recognition. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, seeing that he’s getting ready for bed. He removes his rings and the silver watch from his wrist. 

“Sorry, I- I didn’t know you were indecent.” You turn your head away, avoiding his strong build ー the biceps that bulge beneath his shirt and the muscles that flex with every movement. Your hand shoots up to hide your face in embarrassment. 

He finds it adorable how flustered you get upon seeing a little bit of skin. Still, he makes no effort to button up his shirt. Because that’s all that it is ー just skin. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, and your eyes flicker to the floor as if the rug is the most interesting thing in the world. “Can we talk about something?” 

“Talk?” He approaches the bed, patting the spot beside him. “Come here, what do you want to talk about?” 

You perch yourself onto the mattress bouncing up and down from the weight of the springs. Jeongguk sidles closer to you. His knees knock against yours. He smells like jasmine and musk, and it’s divine. 

“At the party, the girls were talking about relationships,” you begin.  

He hums with a nod, attentive as ever. Jeongguk looks at you as if you’re the only person in the world, but you don’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with anything else but the intensity of his eyes. 

“What did they say?” He wonders, readjusting your necklace so the pendant sits pretty on your neck. 

“Y’know.” You tug on your fingers, finding something to fiddle with. “The usual stuff.”

He reaches for your hands, instantly halting your movements. Soothing your nerves, he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He knows that you must have mustered a lot of courage to come over and bring this up. “Angel, you have to use your words if you want to tell me what’s on your mind.” 

You grow bashful under his touch, but that’s exactly the problem. “They talked about stuff like this.” You squeeze his palms for emphasis. “Holding hands. Touching. Skinship.” You mumble the last part, too shy to say it out loud: “Kissing.” Turning your cheek towards him, you murmur an apology. “Sorry. You make me nervous.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t fail to notice the way your tongue licks the plump of your lips or the way your throat constricts after swallowing a trace of spit. “Nervous? C’mere- look at me.” 

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. It’s authoritative, and you can’t help but follow his orders. 

“I’m not familiar with being this close to someone,” you motion at the lack of space between his body and yours. “I wouldn’t want you to be upset with me if I’m not very affectionate.” 

“Angel, I’d never be upset with you. We can do whatever you want at your own pace.”

“Are you sure you’d never leave me if-”

Jeongguk stops your train of thought before allowing your mind to wander to a dark place. His voice hardens upon hearing such a suggestion. “I never want to even think about that possibility because I’m not letting you go. I’m yours no matter what. You’ll actually have to fight me if you want to push me away. Even then, I’d crawl right back to you.” He truly means every single word that he utters. 

There’s a hint of a smile on your lips. “Sorry. Intimacy is really scary for me,” you confess, hesitating. Jeongguk gives you another moment to collect your thoughts. He’d give you as long as you need, even if it’s a lifetime and all the stars in the night sky have burnt out. 

“But another reason I want to talk to you is because I’m concerned this won’t come across as a real marriage if we’re physically distant, y’know? The girls said that it’s normal for couples to be… intimate.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, at least not immediately. He doesn’t react. His eyes are distracted by your mouth ー the way your gloss clings onto your lips and the way it moves so languidly with every word you articulate. 

“Jeongguk- Love?”

The sound of his name never really meant much to him. After all, it’s just an alias. Yet nothing sets him aflame more than the claim that you have on him ー the way that your lips purse when you call him your love.

“I know this sounds silly-” you begin. 

He shakes his head, brows furrowed, effectively wiping away all of your insecurities. “Never.” 

A naive grin spreads across your face. How could you be so foolish to believe that Jeongguk would make you feel anything less than important? Time and time again, he makes you feel heard. He makes you feel seen.

“Go on,” he urges. “Tell me.” 

“Well, I read an article about how looking into your partner’s eyes for a long period of time increases intimacy. It also builds trust and helps to recognize emotion.” It’s ironic how you explain all of this while avoiding his eyes. Instead, you keep them trained on the scar sitting pretty and kissable on his cheek. 

A dimpled smile spreads across Jeongguk’s face. “Okay, we can try,” he agrees. He reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and you think you might pass away. “But angel, you have to face me if we’re going to do this. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“Right, yeah,” you mumble. “Of course.” Shuffling from the edge of the bed, you turn to face your husband. You tuck your feet beneath your butt and sit on your knees.

“Relax, okay? There’s no need to be nervous around me.” His voice is reassuring. It’s heartwarming. 

You nod your head as you will yourself to meet his gaze. “I can do this. I can do this,” you think to yourself. 

Jeongguk’s pupils glimmer in the lowlight, warm and comforting, and you wonder how anyone could be so handsome. You try to focus on the task at hand, but it’s difficult when he, himself, is so distracting. There’s a beauty mark on his cheek. His jaw. His nose. Beneath his lip. You could trace them all day and night, if only he’d let you. 

Jeongguk’s deep voice cuts through the night. “Is there anything else that you want to try?” 

“M- maybe we could hold hands?” 

“We’ve held hands before.” He laces his fingers between yours so effortlessly, his hand engulfing. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. 

“Does it still make you nervous?” He wonders. 

“A little bit,” you glance at how small your hand looks in his. “But I can get used to it.” 

“Can I suggest something?” 

You nod, agreeing. “Anything.” 

He tilts his head to the side, raising a brow, unconvinced. “Anything? Are you sure?” 

You nod with more confidence. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.” 

“Then can I hold you?”

You hesitate for a second, unsure of what that entails. A beat goes by when Jeongguk is prepared to tell you that you’re free to say no. But you wipe that thought away, giving him your full consent.

Not a second passes by before he wraps his tattooed arms around your waist, tugging you onto his lap. Your thighs rest on either side of his hips, straddling him.

A squeak ー a fucking squeak. God, how much cuter can you get? ー slips past your lips. They’re swollen from how you nervously tug on the flesh, tethering it between your teeth. 

“Does this feel better?” There’s a sense of longing that drips from Jeongguk’s honeyed voice. 

“It’s… nice.” Your brain is on the verge of malfunctioning and shutting down upon feeling the heat of his skin against yours. “Better.” Your voice is breathy. It’s self preservation. You exhale deeply in an attempt to calm the flutter of your heart. 

To keep yourself occupied, you trace your fingers across your bare thighs, unsure of what to do with them. Jeongguk had let go of your hands in favor of holding your hips. So you play with the hem of your dress that’s currently riding up your legs. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little you’re wearing. How your skin is burning beneath his fingertips. 

Jeongguk’s body is radiating, and you can feel the heat between your legs grow, the dampness in your underwear spreading. 

“You can touch me if you want,” he offers. 

You’re not as confident as Jeongguk, but oh, how you wish you were. 

“Do you want to?” He senses your hesitation, yet you nod your head, affirming.

“I do,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I want to touch you- feel you.” 

Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, bringing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. They’re muscular beneath your touch. You curse yourself for letting your mind wander and for letting your panties soak with arousal ー neither of which you can control. 

Somehow, you resist the urge to look down at his physique. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbows, revealing his strong forearms, adorned by the dark tattoos that coil up his muscles. Your gaze darts across his features, struggling to focus on the starlight in his eyes. You switch between the edge of his jaw, the dip of his neck, and the plump of his lips. 

“My eyes are up here, angel.” The corner of his mouth draws into a smile ー so bright and devastatingly beautiful. He hooks a gentle hand beneath your chin, guiding you to meet his stare. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

Your voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. It’s nearly inaudible. “Thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.” 

The innocence of your words makes Jeongguk blush. He’s never been the type to be so easily affected. After all, he’s the bold one in the relationship ー confident, decisive, dominant. But you make him weak in the knees.

“You don’t have to ask permission to kiss me.” Jeongguk inches closer, considerate hands squeezing around your waist. “You’re my wife.” 

Why does the thought of belonging to Jeongguk make your heart stutter? You’re certain that this is nothing but pretend, yet the only thing that makes you believe this could be real is the soothing circles that Jeongguk draws onto your skin. He’s present. He’s willing. His lips are right there, right in front of you. You could take the leap of faith and close the distance, leaning forward to kiss him. 

So you do. 

When your lips meet, it’s as if the rest of the world has gone silent. Time has stopped, and nothing else matters but the two of you at this moment. 

His lips are pillowy soft against yours. He tastes like champagne and mint. He’s gentle, only applying as much pressure as you do. You melt into his touch, feeling featherlight in his hold. His hands grip your waist so delicately, with love and intention, as if you are the most precious thing in his eyes. 

You pull apart to catch your breath, allowing the air to fill your lungs, regretfully so. If you were to drown, you would want to drown in Jeon Jeongguk. Your eyes flutter open, but you can’t seem to look at anything but his cherry lips. 

“Love…” The term of endearment leaves your lips in a pant, and he grows harder beneath you. “This is going to sound so embarrassing…” Your voice trails off as the heat engulfs your entire body. Your head lowers, feeling self-conscious of your actions. 

Jeongguk nuzzles his nose against your neck as he presses tender kisses on your collarbone. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” 

Your fingernails dig into his strong shoulders, squeezing his taut muscles as you muster the courage to tell him the truth. “That was my first kiss.” 

He peers up at you from beneath his long eyelashes. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Jeongguk shakes his head, squeezing your waist with reassurance. 

Your eyes are half lidded as you murmur a quiet confession, “I want to kiss you again.” Normally, you wouldn’t dare to be so bold, but you feel drunk on his taste.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Jeongguk draws you closer, dragging your core onto the apex of his thighs, thick and sturdy. “I like anything that you like. Kissing you. Holding you. Just looking at you,” he shrugs. “And if it wasn’t obvious enough… I like you.” 

Jeon Jeongguk makes you absolutely breathless. “Ar- are we still pretending?” 

“Never.” Leaning forward, he brushes his mouth against yours. “I have never once pretended with you.” 

You kiss him back with more fervor, desperate and wanting. You’re more confident now, fully knowing that Jeongguk wants this as much as you do. 

“When you said I could do whatever…” You pull back, thinking about Jeongguk’s previous statement.

He nods his head with the most innocent beam on his face. “I mean it.”

God, you feel like such a pervert. You’ve shared your first kiss with him, something so sweet and innocent. Why couldn’t that be enough for you? You’re sitting on his lap, feeling the broad planes of his chest, and you can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to do more. To feel more. 

You’re ridden with guilt, drowning in your own arousal, but Jeongguk is so kind. He’s understanding. He’s staring at you as if you’re his whole world. He would never dare to objectify you because he’s a gentleman. But… What if you want him to? 

“The girls at the party were also talking about…” Your words begin to trail. 

“About what?” You subconsciously trace circles onto his shoulders, distracting yourself from the conversation, not knowing that Jeongguk’s eyes flutter close because he adores the drag of your nails and the subtle warmth of your fingertips. 

“About… doing it.” Your words come out in a hushed whisper. It feels too inappropriate to say it out loud. Yet you don’t dare to mention how your panties are absolutely ruined. 

“Angel, what did we talk about?” His lips press against your shoulder, at any inch of skin that he can reach. “You have to be more specific.”

Jeongguk has never once made you feel ashamed or embarrassed. He has never laughed at you or told you that you’re being silly. So why is it so difficult to tell him that you want him ー Need him? 

You take the leap of faith because this is your partner ー in life, in death, and in crime. This is Jeongguk. Your one and only lover who never fails to remind you that you are the strongest woman in the world. He who delivers nutritious lunch boxes to you and tucks cute notes into the lid because he knows that they make you smile. Jeon Jeongguk who massages the knots out of your shoulders after a secret night of combat. He who gets pouty when you call him anything other than ‘love.’

There’s no need to hide anything from this man. He’s your home, just as you are his.

“They talked about sex… You know… making love. ” The crude word sounds so wrong leaving your lips. So out of place. It’s dirty, and it’s naughty. “They said all couples do it, but we’ve never…” 

“Do you want to do it because you want to, or is it because your friends told you to?” Jeongguk searches your eyes for clarification. “Because if you feel pressured when you’re not ready-”

“No! I do!” You cling onto his shirt with more urgency. “I want to do it ー with you. I trust you.” You lean closer, brushing your lips against his ear. “You’re my husband.” 

Jeongguk groans at the sound of your words. At the way your fingernails scratch down his chest. At the way you sit so pretty and perfect on top of his lap, pressing your weight into his erection. 

He gulps as if this is the first time he’s ever been nervous in his life. “Why don’t you take off my shirt?” 

“C- can I?” you stutter. 

“Like I said, you can do whatever you want to me. You’re my wife, and I’m yours.” He presses his lips against your brow. “Yours to hold. To kiss. To love.” He kisses your nose. Your chin. Your jaw. He tucks your hair behind your ears and whispers. “I’m yours to make love to.” 

With trembling fingers, you reach for the button that barely holds Jeongguk’s shirt together. 

His hand engulfs yours. “Don’t forget to breathe, in and out, okay?” Jeongguk, patient as ever, waits for your respiration to steady. “You’re safe with me. If you want to stop, just say the word.” 

With each button undone, his shirt falls apart, revealing Jeongguk’s toned abs. As glorious as he is, your eyes are drawn to the scar on the side of his stomach, barely covered by the fabric that hangs off his back. The scar is jagged, and the skin is raised, the tissue is puckered at the edges. 

“Wha- what happened here?” Your fingertips reach down to trace over the scar, but before you make contact, you pull away. 

“You can touch it-” Jeongguk reaffirms. “Wherever you want. I’m yours.” 

Jeongguk’s breath hitches in his throat when your cold hands lightly graze the rough texture, feeling the ghost of his past. But he knows how you’ll respect his boundaries no matter what, and he relaxes, fully knowing that you’ll take care of him. 

“I had surgery when I was younger.” Jeongguk lies. “They took out my appendix.” 

Your brows furrow. There’s no reason not to believe him, but why is the scar so jagged and uneven? Certain parts are wider than others as if the surgeon had twisted a large blade into his abdomen, and not simply sliced to gain access to his organs. 

As usual, Jeongguk can read the concern written on your face. “It’s okay, it didn’t hurt much.” The curve of his lips settle into a warm and reassuring smile. “I promise.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t express any discomfort about his scar, yet you can’t help but wonder what kind of horrors he had to live through. 

To ease your mind, Jeongguk pulls you into his body and presses his hands beneath your thighs. 

A yelp escapes from your lips as he lifts you up. You’re chest to chest with him, legs wrapping around his waist. He presses your back down to the mattress, settling your head onto one of the pillows at the bedpost. 

He hovers above you, a hair's breadth away. 

“Hi,” he whispers against your lips. “You look so stunning.”

You grow shy with all the attention that Jeongguk feeds you. “Hi,” you whisper back. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist. 

“Can I take this off?” Jeongguk glides a finger beneath the strap of your dress.

There’s a rush in your head, feeling dizzy upon nodding your head with so much vigor. 

His lips pair with yours in a quick kiss before calling you a good girl. He shifts his weight off of you so that he can tug you into an upright position and peel the dress off. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen at your bare chest, having omitted a bra so as to not ruin the outfit. His throat goes dry, and he’s having trouble forming words in his head. You’ve never seen him so speechless. 

Subconsciously, you raise your arms to cover your chest. 

“No, no, no, don’t do that.” Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, pressing a smooch to your delicate skin. “You’re so pretty like this. Don’t ever hide from me, okay?” 

His words make you shiver. Having someone dote on you as much as Jeongguk is something you’re not used to. But that’s exactly why you’re here, right? So you nod your head and let him pin your hands to the mattress before leading a trail of kisses down your body.

Curious fingers speak freely against your skin, exploring every inch of you. He takes note of every gasp, giggle, and moan that escapes your lips. He presses his swollen lips to your sensitive spots until you keen louder for him, desperately begging for more. His lips wrap around your nipple, sucking on the bud until you whimper. He’s a drooling mess over your tits as he leaves a trail of saliva, marking your skin and claiming you as his. 

Jeongguk furthers his descent down your tummy, placing sweet kisses against the waistband of your panties. He reaches down to feel the leather strap around your upper thigh. It’s the holster that you use to sheathe your knife, and thank God you disarmed before stepping into Jeongguk’s bedroom. 

“I use it to hold my pepper spray,” you murmur a half-ass excuse. “Some of my clothes have shallow pockets.” 

Jeongguk smiles against your skin as he ghosts his lips against your soft thighs. He doesn’t think much of it, but he does think it’s really hot. So he doesn’t bother to unstrap as he continues to worship your body. 

What catches his attention is not the way you’ve soaked through your underwear, as arousing as it is. But rather, he’s intrigued by the faint mark on the outside of your thigh. It’s not a regular, old scar. To Jeongguk, it’s oddly familiar because it’s what appears to be an old bullet wound. 

Jeongguk stutters in disbelief, eyes wide. “What’s this? W- were you sho-” He tries to mentally collect himself as he settles on a choice of words. “Were you hurt? Who hurt you?”

You look down, noticing the circular scar on your outer thigh before shaking it off. “It’s nothing. It was from an injection.” 

“Are you sure? It looks li- It looked serious.” His voice trembles with concern, hands fisting at his sides. 

You pull him up by the collar of his undone shirt, hanging off his broad shoulders. Your lips meet his in a delicate, comforting kiss. Jeongguk visibly relaxes in your hold.  

“I’m fine, really. I just want you.” You claw his shoulders in an attempt to peel the rest of the fabric off. 

Jeongguk sighs, trying to forget about what he had seen. But he’s certain that his mind will wander back to the scar at another point in time. He strips the shirt off his back, carelessly tossing the fabric onto the floor. 

Jeon Jeongguk is mesmerizing. You’ve never seen the entirety of his sleeve, but there it is, in all its glory. There’s a faint beauty mark on his chest, one that you did not account for when tracing all of the scars and marks on his upper body. 

“Tell me you want me,” his breath is hot and heavy against yours. 

Subconsciously, you clench at the sound of his words. “Guk- I want you more than anything.” Your hands float down to the buckle of his jeans as you unclasp the button. “You’re wearing too much. Take it off.” The plea that falls from your lips is breathy and desperate. 

“Fuck-” Jeongguk curses, trying to restrain himself.

Jeongguk has slept with plenty of women before, but never like this. He’s always had one night stands with an ulterior motive, whether it is for leverage or intel or for the sole purpose of converting an innocent woman into a whistleblower. He’s fucked with media journalists, cabinet members, and even the wives of politicians. He isn’t proud of it, but women, just like everyone else, are more likely to say things they don’t mean when their desires are fulfilled. They’re willing to trust him and spill their secrets when they’re lost in the throes of pleasure ー when he hands over his lust and his attention. It’s transactional. 

Jeongguk has always thought that love is cheap. But not with you. 

With you, Jeongguk has the innate need to take his time. He wants to show you what it means to make love. 

He hooks his hand beneath your panties, pulling them down your legs. There’s a string of arousal that breaks when he tugs the fabric off. It’s absolutely soaked in your arousal. Jeongguk’s lips press against every inch of your skin, leaving no spot untouched. 

You shudder when his hot breath meets your inner thighs, threatening to close them. He wraps his thick arms around your legs, digging his fingers into your hips, pinning you to the mattress. 

He keeps his eyes trained on your face as you tremble beneath his touch. He kitten licks your clit, careful as to not overwhelm you. But you quickly melt into the pillows, gripping his hair between your fingers.

Jeongguk wants to commit this to memory. The way that you look so angelic in this light. 

Quiet whimpers escape from your parted lips. “You don’t have to hold back,” he reminds you. “Be as loud as you want. Nobody’s home. We have all the time in the world, and I want you to feel good.” 

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking softly on the bundle of nerves until you’re writhing against his mouth. Soon enough, you grind your hips, practically riding his face like a needy slut, desperate and wanting. 

The moans slip out of your mouth freely, and Jeongguk grows harder at how pretty you are, lost in pleasure. He begins to rut his hips against the mattress, seeking some kind of relief for his aching cock. 

His tongue slips between your walls, licking up the arousal that seeps down your thighs. His chin is coated in your wetness, and he’s utterly obsessed with your taste. 

Your nails dig into his hair, pulling on the roots. He elicits a moan against your core, and you’re muttering apologies, “sorry, ‘m sorry.” Yet you continue to grind your cunt against his tongue, proving that you’re not sorry at all.  

Your grip loosens, but Jeongguk whines at the loss of tension. “Feels good, angel, don’t stop.” 

He quickly grabs your hands and places them on the top of his head, encouraging you to tug as hard as you want. He’s obsessed with your taste, but he’s also addicted to the pain that you inflict on him. 

He dips his tongue between your walls, reaching as far as he can go. He smiles against your core as if he’s the one enjoying himself ー and truly, he is. He can’t get enough of you. Jeongguk loves to bury his face into your sweet pussy, making out with your cunt. His chin is doused in your essence, and he wants more. He needs to see you dripping in cum so he can taste you straight from the source. 

“Guk, it feels weird,” you choke on your words, pressing your hands against your tummy. The tears cascade down your cheeks as your high builds in the pit of your stomach.

“Shh, shh, angel,” he hushes before dropping a thick glob of spit onto your entrance. He can’t believe that you’ve never come in your life. Have you never played with your cute little cunt before? 

Jeongguk laps your clit while he works a finger into you, gliding between your tight walls. He pushes another one in, watching you stretch around his digits. In the back of his mind, he wonders how you’ll be able to take his cock when you can hardly take his fingers. He curls them inside of you, slowly adding a third. 

You will yourself to pick your head up, allowing your gaze to meet his. The sight before you is filthy beyond belief. You can’t believe that Jeongguk is making out with your naughty pussy, and you love it. His fingers are gliding inside of you, reaching places you’ve never reached before. He’s humping the mattress, trying to satiate his throbbing cock that’s leaking through his boxers. 

“Guk- love, I-”

“Just let go. Come for me,” his husky voice vibrates against your cunt. 

At the sound of his command, you unravel on his tongue, shuddering beneath his strong hold. Your cunt pulses as waves of pleasure rip through you. Soft moans flow through your parted lips, and it’s suddenly Jeongguk’s new favorite melody. 

He watches you fall apart with hearts in his eyes. His hands wrap around your thighs, holding you in place as he fucks you through your climax. You’ve never felt a sensation this strong before. It doesn’t even compare when you’re high on adrenaline. 

Yet Jeongguk laps your pussy as if he’s a puppy, so eager to please you as he collects all of your cum on his tongue. He wants you as much as you’ll allow. Before the overstimulation sets in, you have to weakly tap his shoulder, pushing him away as your thighs close around his head. 

He presses a smooch to your clit before finally pulling back. “How did that feel?” 

“Never felt anything like that before,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath. “C- can you show me how to touch you too?” The innocent look in your eyes drives him absolutely mad. “Wanna make you feel good.” You palm him through his boxers, and he groans at your touch. 

Fuck. “Tonight’s about you, angel.” Jeongguk curses at himself because you look so pretty batting your eyelashes at him. You’re practically begging to suck him off, and he can’t bring himself to say yes. Your hands dip beneath his underwear, gliding your hands up and down his throbbing cock. 

Jeongguk thinks that he might be in heaven. “Aren’t you too tired? I’ve already made you come once.” 

But you shake your head, “I want more, please? I can take it. Will you please give it to me?”

“I- I don’t have a condom,” he confesses. 

“Don’t care, I need you.” Your hands roam across the planes of his chest before settling on the back of his neck. You pull him closer until your lips brush against his. “Need you so bad…” You subconsciously roll your hips, grinding your bare cunt against his thigh, pleading ー begging for him to sink his cock inside of you to relieve the ache. “It hurts,” you murmur. 

What else is Jeongguk supposed to do when his baby is aching, begging and pleading for his help? So he pulls his cock out of his boxers, tossing the offensive material out of the way. Your mouth waters as your eyes meet his length. 

“It’s not gonna fit,” you shake your head. Surely, he could split you open with his sheer girth. “You’re too big.”

Jeongguk wraps his hand around his length, jerking himself off before pressing the length of his thick cock onto your stomach, measuring how deep he could possibly go. The pretty tip rests against your belly button. Jeon Jeongguk could actually break you, and you would let him. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop-” 

You shake your head with desperate vigor, and your imploring hands reach for his broad shoulders. “Just- just go slow, okay?”

Jeongguk pairs his lips with yours in a sweet kiss, “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He releases a thick glob of spit onto your cunt before rubbing the tip of his cock against your core, spreading the sloppy mess across your mound. He drags his tip against your lips before slowly pushing into your soaked cunt. 

You gasp upon feeling the intrusion, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Jeongguk nibbles the column of your neck, whispering quiet praises against your skin to distract you from the discomfort. He looks down to see barely half of his length tucked inside of you, yet your walls are stretched to accommodate him. At the pit of your stomach, there’s a bulge where the tip of his cock prods against your cunt. It protrudes against your tummy, leaving an indentation. He can quite literally watch his dick plow into you.

“Angel, look at how well you take me,” he groans. 

You will yourself to open your eyes, seeing how he stuffs you to the brim. The visual is so filthy. 

“God, I’ve been dreaming of this.” Jeongguk drops another glob of spit where his length meets your cunt, allowing the glide to be more effortless. The way that your pretty pussy struggles to make room for him is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. His eyes roll back as he squeezes your waist, trying to regain an ounce of composure. 

“You’ve been thinking about this? About us?” You clench upon hearing his deepest desires. 

He curses under his breath, not knowing how much longer he’d last if you’re already this tight wrapped around his cock. “You have no idea-” When he rests his head against your shoulder, panting, another inch sinks inside of you. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. You just feel so fucking good.” 

His rough hands wander across your body, mapping every inch of your skin, committing it to memory. Jeongguk taps his fingers against your lips as he requests you to ‘open up.’ As obedient as you are, you part your lips, allowing him to slip his digits inside.

“Suck on my fingers,” he coos as he pushes himself further into your sweet pussy. “That’s my good girl.” He pulls his calloused fingers out of your mouth, and they find home onto your clit as he rubs figure eights onto your bundle of nerves. It serves as a distraction from the slight sting of resistance where his cock stretches your walls. 

But for Jeongguk, this feels like heaven. He resists the urge to sheathe himself into your virgin cunt, down to the hilt. “Can’t believe that I get to see you like this.” 

Jeongguk seriously can’t believe how fortunate he is that he’s your first. Nobody has ever touched you the way that Jeongguk does. Nobody will ever fuck you or make you come the way that he will. And certainly, nobody will ever get to see you act like a desperate little slut. You belong to Jeongguk just as he belongs to you. And this is the privilege he gets when you’re his wife. 

You watch his face twist in concentration as he works himself into you. His biceps bulge, and his skin dimples beneath the pressure of your fingers when you squeeze his arm. They feel so rock solid beneath your touch. So strong and so, so reliable like the Jeongguk you know and love. You whimper simply because he’s hot, and you could never resist him. 

“S- something wrong?” He stills his hips inside of you, and his cock pulses. 

“N- no,” you whine, shaking your head. “Just wanna hold your hand.” You scratch down his biceps as you paw at his chest. Even when he’s buried inside of you, it’s still not enough. You need him, and you need all of him. 

He grabs both of your hands, softly squeezing them as he pins them on either side of your head. Jeongguk cages you against the mattress as he presses his body weight against yours, plunging his cock deeper and deeper between your walls, inch by inch. 

Your chest heaves when his hips press against yours, completely buried inside of you, and a silent cry slips past your lips. Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes. 

“Just breathe for me, angel, okay? Relax, ease up for me. I know it’s uncomfortable now, but you’ll feel so good, I swear.”

You nod your head, and you can’t help but cry. You just feel so full. Two twin tears trail down your cheeks, and Jeongguk is quick to kiss them away.

He soothes his thumb over the back of your hand as he praises you. “You’re doing so well for me. Such a good girl. You can take it, right? You can take it all for me.” 

You nod your head, letting the tears fall down like summer rain. “I can take it, I swear-” You sound so choked up, and it’s probably due to the fact that Jeongguk is so fucking deep, you can practically feel him in your throat. 

“Move, please, I need you so bad.” The broken sob rips out of your throat as you cry in desperation.

He pulls out with a shallow thrust, wanting to be as close to you as possible. Looking down, he can see where his cock fucks into you, where there’s a bulge that shadows every single one of his thrusts. He takes your hand down to rub over the protrusion. 

“Can you feel me? Right here?” He quickly slides out of you before pressing his hips flush against yours in one swift motion. 

A deep groan rumbles through his chest, sending a deep vibration through your body. His breath is hot against your lips, and you can actually feel him in your tummy. You can feel him everywhere. 

“How’s it, angel?” 

“Feels full-” you manage to choke the words out of your mouth. 

“Too much?” Jeongguk asks. His breath is shaky as he plows his hips against yours. His cock twitches inside of you, and he really doesn’t want to pull out. But if you had asked, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. 

Thank God for your insatiability because you shake your head as you bring your intertwined hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his skin. “Feels good- keep going, please,” you beg. 

“See? I knew you could take it like a good girl.” 

Soon enough, the discomfort subsides, and all you can feel is pleasure in the pit of your stomach. Jeongguk fucks into you until he bottoms out, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. Your eyes begin to cross, obsessed with the way he fills you up, turning you into a stuttering mess. 

“Oh my god, feels s’ good, Guk- Don’t stop,” you cry, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist to keep him close. 

Your mouth falls open and drool begins to slip from the corner of your lips. Jeongguk wedges his tongue into your mouth, swirling your spit and saliva together into one hungry mess. 

He shifts his attention to your sensitive neck as he sucks on the column of your throat. A mark begins to bloom above your collarbone. If anyone were to doubt your marriage and the fact that you belonged to Jeongguk, there would be no reason to do so now. 

The only thing you can focus on is the way that Jeongguk pokes your cervix, and you want nothing more but for him to flood your womb. Your heavy lidded eyes fall shut, your head lolls, and your cheek rests against the pillow. 

But Jeongguk refuses to let you look away. His hand hooks around your jaw, and his fingers dig into your cheek. “Look at me,” he demands. “Want to see you when you come.” He lifts your face off the pillow and presses his lips against yours. 

Jeongguk gives deep and pointed thrusts into your cunt. He grips your hands so tightly, but you welcome the embrace. His hips snap against yours, rutting into your battered hole as you desperately chase your high. 

“‘m sorry, princess, am I too rough?” He mouths against your lips. “Just f- feels so good around me. So tight n’ warm. You’re s’ perfect.” 

You shake your head in desperation. “N- no, I love it-” You love him. “I’m close,” you cry, overwhelmed with emotions. 

“Come for me, angel,” he groans into your ear, pressing kisses against your nose, your cheek, your lips. He squeezes your hands, never letting you go. 

He pounds into you once, twice, three-four times, bullying his cock into you, and you come undone with the rough snap of his hips. You tremble in his arms, feeling this orgasm tenfold compared to the last. Cum begins to seep out of your cunt, drenching Jeongguk’s cock until there’s a ring of cream at the base of his length. 

You tight little cunt clenches around him as if you never want him to leave. He finds it hard to breathe when you look so beautiful, so pretty, and just so cute caged beneath him. As much as he wants to come inside of you and stuff you full, Jeongguk is quick to pull out when he feels his climax approach. He glides his cock against your cunt, rutting against your lips. He paints your stomach with ribbons of white cum, groaning at the lewdness of it all. 

Thoughts of Jeongguk breeding your cunt flashes through your mind ー having him flood you with cum round after round until you can have a happy little family of four. 

Obscene images of you doing this again and again in different positions send your mind racing. You want him to bury himself to the hilt with your knees pinned against your chest. If only he could flood your womb as he holds you by the back of your thighs in a mating press. Maybe you can come when you’re on all fours, on your hands and knees. Or you could take him down your throat as deep as you can go, choking and gagging on his length with saliva dribbling out of your lips. Although you’re certain that you could barely take half of him considering his size and your inexperience. But Jeongguk can teach you, and you can practice night after night until he absolutely ruins you. 

“So much cum,” you murmur, admiring the liquid that rests on your tummy. You swipe your fingers across your stomach before sticking them in your mouth. Jeongguk’s cock twitches at the sight of you so desperate for a taste. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “How was it?” 

“Can we do it again?” Your eyes glimmer with wishful thinking. It’s safe to say that you had the best night of your life. 

Jeongguk sputters a laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

He carries you to the bathroom, making sure you use the toilet to prevent UTIs. Meanwhile, he runs a bath for you where he lathers lavender shampoo in your hair and rubs the knots from your sore shoulders, down to your hips and legs. Between soft giggles and splashes of water, you share sweet kisses and loving stares. Before your fingers can prune, Jeongguk lifts you out of the tub and dries you off with a warm towel. 

The two of you tangle beneath the sheets. But before you fall asleep to the sound of one another’s heartbeat, you ask Jeongguk the question that’s been on your mind. 

“I was just wondering… Do you like to be called daddy?” 

His lips meet your forehead before tucking you closer to his chest. “Go to sleep, angel. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” 

Jeongguk, in fact, does like to be called daddy among a plethora of other vulgar words. This vital piece of information is not necessary for the Hwa Yang interview, but you tuck that specific fact into the recesses of your brain for future reference. 

Because the truth is, you don’t have enough time to memorize Jeongguk’s life story. You can save that for another day. The Hwa Yang interview is in less than a week, and you have to save all of your brain space for relevant ー appropriate information. Such as the values of your family and the importance of education in your lives. 

Thankfully, as Jeongguk’s informant, Seokjin managed to snag sample questions that the interviewers are likely to ask: What type of person do you want your child to grow up to be? What is your child’s school experience like thus far? What are some habits you practice to help your child acclimate to the academic rigor of this school? 

So Jeongguk, Minji, and you work tirelessly to come up with the perfect answers that give the impression that you are a family exuding elegance. In the eyes of the admissions director, it basically means that you have to rival the royal family. 

Minji should have interests beyond her plushies and her manhwas, something along the lines of tennis, horseback riding, or crossword puzzles. She has to continue with her studies ー global history, foreign affairs, music theory, and yes, even her sworn enemy, mathematics. At the mere age of five, she should obtain fluency in a second language (which is apparently really impressive if you’re the royal heir to the British empire). 

All of this preparation proves to be handy because at the academy, the board of interviewers ask about Minji’s interests and her hobbies. They want to know what type of learner she is and how she can contribute to the fast paced learning environment. 

Although Minji is exceptional as she is, you can’t help but wonder why a child has to be a prodigy to be deemed as someone worthy of a good education. What’s wrong with simply existing? What’s wrong with being average? Because if the price of being average is being a decent human being, you would rather take your chances at a different school. 

The sound of the headmaster’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “I want to ask Minji what a typical day in the household looks like.”

She straightens her posture upon hearing her name. “I start the day when eomma wakes me up and helps me get ready for kindergarten. She double checks to make sure my homework and my school supplies are in my bag. She also packs extra clothes for me just in case. Appa makes breakfast in the kitchen, and when we finish eating, they walk me to school-” 

The headmaster crinkles his brows. A look of confusion crosses his features. “Does your father always cook for the family?” 

“Yes, appa usually cooks because eomma works really hard. Sometimes, she comes home with aches and pains because of all the energy she uses.” Minji shifts her gaze to her father, trying to gauge whether her answer is acceptable. Meanwhile, your eyes are filled with concern, worried she’ll somehow expose your criminal history. “But eomma always helps when she can. She goes to the market, and she does the laundry. She also makes tea for appa and hot chocolate for me. She helps me with my homework even if I don’t like fractions.” Minji says the last part in a hushed whisper. 

“Really? Is your mother someone you aspire to be? Despite your father being the one to prepare your meals? It’s rather untraditional.” 

“I don’t believe that question is pertinent to the interview. It’s quite leading,” Jeongguk states. His voice doesn’t falter, but there’s animosity in every breath that he takes. “I can assure you that my wife is a wonderful mother and role model to our daughter. Now may we please refocus our attention on Minji and her academics?” Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow, and he is seething. He balls his hands into fists, resisting the urge to throw a right hook at the man across the table. 

Instinctually, your fingers inch across the settee, reaching for Jeongguk’s hand in order to soothe his nerves. His shoulders relax upon feeling the heat of your skin as if to quietly remind him that everything is okay. 

“Of course, I apologize.” The headmaster says diplomatically before jotting down a few words into his notebook. He raises his nose in the air as if he’s on some high horse.

The interview persists until the end of the hour, and Jeongguk remains at the edge of his seat. He holds his hand in yours to keep his composure intact. Thankfully, the dean of admissions and the executive advisor have more tasteful questions to ask. 

However, it doesn’t last long. The headmaster intercepts once again. “Mrs. Jeon, I noticed that your documents indicate you are Minji’s stepmother, correct? Do you ever feel some kind of disconnect considering that you are not her biological mother?” 

You’re taken aback by this impromptu question. You didn’t prepare an answer for this, although your natural response would be to wrap your hands around this man’s bare neck, wringing it dry. Yet you remain composed for the sake of Jeongguk and Minji. You can feel Jeongguk hold your hand tighter in his. But you pat his wrist, serving as both a warning and a comforting acknowledgement. 

“I love Minji as a daughter, just as any other mother. To me, it doesn’t matter if she’s not my blood relative. We’ve grown really close ever since we’ve met. I admit that I have never been a mom myself, and I’m faced with a new learning curve every single day. But isn’t that what motherhood is? It’s nothing I’m not used to. Growing up, I raised my younger brother. At work, I take care of children from all different backgrounds. Surely, I make mistakes, but I think every parent leaves a mark on their child no matter what they do. Sometimes it’s a stain. Other times it’s a break, a bend, or a crack. Other parents can splinter their kids, but I hope that I never get to that point. I’m not perfect, but I’m constantly trying to be better. I love Minji more than anything.” 

“So you never feel any sense of inadequacy or resentment?” The headmaster has the audacity to question your parenting skills. 

Jeongguk cannot stand to hear the headmaster criticize you anymore. In a blink of an eye, he slams his fist against the coffee table. The wood splits in half beneath the brute force of his hand, and you’re quite impressed by the display of action. 

“This is wildly inappropriate for an interview. This entire time, you’ve done nothing but berate my wife because we do not have a conventional family. We’re not wealthy people. We work hard for what we do. We take care of one another in a way that only we know and understand. If you can’t accept that, then maybe this is not the school that we want our child to be enrolled in.” Jeongguk’s chest heaves as he says his peace. 

He doesn’t even take another moment to listen to the headmaster. There’s nothing he could say that could warrant forgiveness. So Jeongguk picks up his daughter, and he grabs your hand before storming out of the interview room. 

Jeongguk is going to have a difficult time explaining to his boss why he’s failed his mission.

“I’m sorry I messed up Minji’s chance of going to Hwa Yang.” You tug at the sleeves of your dress as you stare at the floor.

Back at Jeongguk’s apartment, you sink into the couch, allowing the weight of the situation to finally settle. 

Jeongguk rests his hand on your shoulders, turning you so that you can meet his gaze. “You didn’t mess up anything.” His eyes are filled with warmth, but you feel as if you don’t deserve it. 

“We worked so hard for this, and it was all for nothing.” 

There’s still residual rage that flows through his veins. “Nothing? Don’t say that. Don’t you know that I lo-” 

Your heart lurches out of your chest as you stare at him in awe. He loves you? 

Jeongguk’s hands shift to hold your cheeks, running his calloused thumb against the edge of your jaw. He sighs, trying to collect his thoughts. “We have each other, and that’s all that matters at the end of the day, okay? We couldn’t anticipate that they’d be so cruel. I would defend you over anything in this world. So don’t you dare say that this was all for nothing.”

He pulls you into a tight hug, tucking your head beneath his chin. You can hear the sound of his heart beat, beating only for you. It’s distracting enough for you to miss his whispered declaration: “I’m seriously gonna marry you someday.” 

Minji climbs onto the couch, wedging herself between her parents. “If I don’t get accepted, I don’t have to go to school, right?” 

The two of you peel away from the embrace, glaring at Minji, shaking your heads. “No, you have to go,” you simultaneously declare with stern conviction. 

Minji huffs a sigh, looking downcast. But when her stomach grumbles, you effectively put an end to your pity party. You and Jeongguk drop everything, scurrying into the kitchen to prepare dinner for your precious daughter. She worked hard, and she did her very best. You all did. 

…

Tucked away into the busy streets of Seoul, there’s a tiny little apartment on the second story filled with music and laughter. 

While the water boils for the buckwheat noodles, Jeongguk watches over his precious family, reading the instructions for the sauce. All you need is a mixture of perilla oil, cham sauce, buldak sauce, buldak mayo, egg yolk, and a generous amount of furikake. But when you and Minji measure out everything to perfection, you cheer for one another as if you’ve made a meal worthy of praise from the world renown Gordon Ramsey. 

When the noodles are ready, you all gather around the table and laugh to your heart's content. You fill your stomachs with starch, a heavy amount of spice, and plenty of love. You dote on one another, too distracted with the loving family you’ve created to notice anything outside of your little bubble. 

This moment is yours, and yours alone. This is your happy place, and nobody can take it away from you. Not even the sound of the answering machine, echoing from the quaint living room.

“Due to your family’s impressive display of integrity at the institution’s interview, I would like to extend an offer to enroll Jeon Minji into the prestigious Hwa Yang Academy. Congratulations, and we hope to hear from you soon.” 

[ihaechans]

Impatient || L.DH

PAIRING ▸ Lee Donghyuck x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut

WARNINGS/CONTENT ▸ profanity, clingy and whiny Hyuck, oral (f), groping, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be reckless pls..), jealous hyuck, multiple orgasms, creampie, nothing TOOOOO crazy tbh

SUMMARY ▸Your boyfriend Donghyuck just wants you all to himself.

WORD COUNT▸2k

A/N: This has legit been in my drafts since last year and I just finished it now. Wanted to release something before Die 4 You since I sadly won't have time to make any Halloween fic this year </3 please know this is not proofread so ignore mistakes, PLEASE...

“Alright, just let me know if you come up with any other ideas for the project. I’ll start my assigned section right away. Bye Jisung.” You sigh, quickly hanging up the phone without hesitation.

You love Jisung, you really do... but sometimes he really gets on your nerves. Both of you had decided to be partners for a project, and if you knew he was so clueless about every little thing maybe you should’ve just partnered up with Jaemin instead.

You huff, visibly irritated at the number of times Jisung has called you for instructions or help within the past hour, nearly screaming when you get another call from him not even a minute after you had just hung up.

Donghyuck laughs from beside you, the sound barely audible due to his face being buried into your side. “Jisung. He’s so cute.” your boyfriend mumbles sarcastically, smiling when you raise your voice at the poor boy on the phone.

You hang up once again, letting out a sound of exasperation.

“Don't get too mad Y/n, you know that’s just how he is,” Donghyuck whispers, pulling you closer into him as he caresses your side.

“You’re awfully touchy today. What’s up?”

“Hm?” he hums, nuzzling his face closer to your side as his wandering hand finds place on your stomach. “I just love my girlfriend.” He sighs, continuing his ministrations.

You’re suspicious but continue typing away on your laptop while trying your best to ignore Donghyuck’s suggestive touching.

“I swear to god,” you mutter, staring at your phone as another incoming call from Jisung appears on the screen. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

“Then ignore it.”

Your boyfriend’s voice takes you by surprise. “What?”

“I said ignore it. He’s been interrupting my sweet time with my girlfriend. He’ll be fine on his own for a while.”

You laugh, the seriousness of his statement slipping past your mind. “Sweet time with your girlfriend is watching me do my project? Cute.” Smiling, you run your fingers through his hair a few times before resuming to type at your laptop, unknowingly annoying Donghyuck.

He huffs but you don’t seem to notice, too busy talking with Jisung on the phone, explaining something Donghyuck couldn’t care less about. He would get your attention sooner or later, he was sure of it.

His soft touches against your skin turn more suggestive within the next few minutes. You don’t mention it to him out loud, but he knows that you noticed.

His fingers dance across your thighs, grabbing and squeezing at them before you place your hand on top of his, stopping his mischievous actions. “Hyuck. What are you doing?” You whisper, making sure your mouth is far away from the speaker of your phone where Jisung was still on the line.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to be done. Why don’t you just cut it short for the day? Hm?” He doesn’t let you answer, getting up from his position so he can slot himself in between your legs.

Mouthing “no” and “stop” aggressively at him doesn’t work, his wandering hands already trying to slither under the bottom of your shorts. “Stop!” you whisper-yell, gaze demanding and stern.

Donghyuck simply ignores you, continuing to massage your inner thighs as he makes his way higher and higher. 

You try to ignore him and carry on with the conversation with Jisung, a surprised gasp leaving your lips when he shifts your shorts and panties to the side, licking a fat stripe up your pussy.

“Take these off for me baby. M’ gonna make you cum so hard for me.” There’s no shamefulness in his words and he says it loud and clear, the younger man on the phone pausing to ensure he heard that correctly.

“Are you sure you’re home alone?... I swear I just heard-”

“Yup! All alone!” You exclaim, accidentally drawing out your words to avoid moaning out. You bite your lip painfully hard, trying to conceal the sounds that were threatening to leave your mouth as your boyfriend continues to play with your cunt. He thumbs away at your clit, soft tongue placing kitten licks teasingly on your core as you shiver.

Giving in, you allow him to remove your shorts and panties, wasting no time to immediately bury his face in between your legs. “Jisung,” you breathe out, “I might have to call you back later…”

The boy on the line sighs, whining, “But Y/n, it’s an emergency and I need your help.” You could practically see the pout on his face through the phone, a sigh of annoyance and pleasure leaving your lips.

“Fuck…” you whimper, hips bucking up into Hyuck’s mouth as he continues to devour you, his tongue fucking inside of you as he thumbs at your clit.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks Y/n! I’ll be waiting for your call.” Jisung doesn’t wait for your response, hanging up almost immediately after he finishes his sentence, which was more than great for you.

Donghyuck seems to take that as his cue to speed things up, his tongue abusing your clit at a much faster rate. Your free hand searches for something to hold onto as your phone clatters onto the floor, legs wrapping around your boyfriend’s head to hold him in place as your back arches off the bed.

“Oh my god. Hyuck…” You’re not able to protest much, his tongue too busy licking up everything you have to offer. You moan loudly, voice louder than you had intended.

Donghyuck chuckles before quickly replacing his tongue with a finger, tongue licking at your swollen clit as he, plunges his index finger as deep as it will go into your tightness before pulling out and repeating the action.

The sensation of having his tongue against your entrance as he fucked you was overwhelming, a gasp leaving your lips as you found yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm. “Yes Hyuck… yes…” You whimper, hips jerking up into his face as you cum on his tongue, his finger still fucking your pussy at a relentless pace.

You call out his name over and over again as he licks up everything you give him, face soaked in your cum as he looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, I was trying to finish up my work so we could fuck later,” you whine, pouting at the boy as he stands up. He licks his lips, smirking as he licks away at your juices before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I was trying my best to be a good boy,” he muses, lifting your hips up from the bed as you wrap your legs around his waist. “But the more you denied my advances, the harder I became.” He continues, kissing your collarbone.

“That’s not fair, baby,” you breathe out, biting your lip. “I was just trying to get him off the phone, you know that." He hums, not bothering to reply as his lips immediately find yours again. Your hands fumble with his shirt, tugging it off of him as his tongue dances into your mouth.

He was much more aggressive than usual, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was being a little bit needy. Though you kind of wanted to tease him, you couldn’t keep the grin from crossing your lips as he kissed you deeply, hands roaming your body as you moaned into his mouth.

“God… I missed you…” you whisper, biting down on his bottom lip lightly as he pushes your back down onto the mattress softly.

“I think I can let this pass since you’ve missed me so much,” he muses, climbing on top of you as he grinds his cock against your soaked pussy. “You’ve been teasing me all day.”

“I have not,” you protest, gasping as he grinds against you once more.

“You’ve been working and not paying attention to me.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “First of all, I’m working on my biggest project to date. Second of all, you’re the one who’s been teasing me.” Your breath hitches as his cock, still clothed in his jeans, grinds against your clit.

“That’s because I want you so bad.”

“You know you don’t need an excuse to touch me, right?” you point out, hips swaying as you try to push yourself further into his cock.

“You can touch me as much as you want.” Donghyuck chuckles, slipping his hand down between your bodies to unbutton his pants.

“Mhmm,” the boy hums, licking his lips hungrily as he watches you. He wastes no time in taking his cock out of his boxers, the end of it damp with pre-cum. “I think it’s better if I just show you how much I want you.”

Donghyuck wastes no more time, thumbing the head of his cock as he brings it down and slides the wet tip against your entrance. He looks you in the eyes before pulling back and thrusting in fully, the thickness of his cock nearly making you scream.

“O-Oh my god…” The boy lets out a deep moan, thrusting into you again and again in a quick, steady rhythm. The feeling of his cock sliding inside of you is enough to make you let out a high-pitched whine, hands searching for anything to hold onto as he pounds into you.

You grip onto the sheets, bodies colliding as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. “You’re so tight,” he mumbles, thrusting into you harder. His hips grind against yours, pelvis pressing against your clit and sending pleasure rippling through your body.

“Donghyuck…” You moan out, a fire building in your stomach as he fucks you into the mattress.

“You’re so fucking hot…” The boy breathes out, thrusting into you deeper. His cock slides in and out of you, tongue licking your neck as he pumps into you harder. “I can’t hold back anymore, baby...” he groans, hips jerking against your own as he pants into your neck.

“Fuck don't stop…” Your breathing hitches, shoulders tensing up as he thrusts into you at a quick, steady pace. You feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, his cock sliding in and out of you.

“Come on, Y/n…” He breathes out, thrusting into you with more force. “Cum for me.” His fingers dig into your thighs, nails scraping at your skin. “C-Come on baby-” His voice tenses, urging you on as his thrusts quicken. “Cum, Y/n.” Your back arches off of the bed as you're sent over the edge, an orgasm tearing through your body.

“Oh my god, Donghyuck….” You moan out, hips bucking up into his as he pumps into you with more force. You feel him twitch inside of you, letting out a deep moan as he fills you up with his cum.

With a groan, Huck pulls out, smiling proudly at the mess he had made of you.

You could feel his cum seeping out of your pussy and down your thighs, an audible gasp leaving your lips as you let your head fall back onto the sheets. Donghyuck pants into your neck, pulling out of you as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"Can't believe all of that was because of that nerd Jisung. Didn't know he bothered you that much babe." You conclude, your boyfriend smirking down at you in return.

As you lay panting on your bed, naked as you stare at the ceiling with your arms spread out against the bed, your phone goes off again, and you're immediately reminded of why you were so irritated in the first place.

[sinfullyrosey]

Pushing Your Buttons

Lilia Vanrouge X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Oral, Semi-Public, Misuse of Magic

Got like three people in my inbox asking for more General Lilia, but I don’t do requests and this fic has been sitting unfinished for months now. So, no general fae, but current papa bat using phantom magic to mess with his favorite little, magicless human.~

I just realized I have written a male reader, gn reader, and now fem reader for this old fart. The triangle of smut is complete.

Also, I apologize in advance for my terrible text speech skills. I personally don’t type like that normally and struggle to do so for fic purposes.

You were slowly going insane. Absolutely bonkers. Throw you in a padded cell and lock away the key levels of mad. Couldn’t even concentrate on the simple tasks given to you by that aggravating crow without your mind immediately buzzing from the searing hot sensation between your nether regions.

Simply ignoring it had become impossible by this point. It has been nearly an hour now since it all started and nearly an hour have you suffered at the hands of that old bat. Running all over campus, delivering papers and whatnot, all the while your pussy is being played with like some handheld controller!

Another whine slipped past your clenched teeth once more as a particular spike of pleasure shot through you and made your stomach twist even tighter. You faltered, almost tripping on nothing along the pathway, and decided to stop and steady yourself as those fingers worked at your wet folds.

You heaved a shaky sigh and began to rummage through your school bag for your phone. Pulling it out, your knees buckling when you felt yourself growing wetter, the feeling of something dripping causing you to panic. So far you had been good to keep yourself together and, surprisingly, the fingers had been rather merciful, only occasionally grazing along your slit or palming at your mounds for only a few seconds.

But now they had just gotten bolder and more persistent, lingering longer against your folds, spreading your lips and pressing around your entrance. Sharpened nails playfully raking along your thighs or pinching your skin. At one point they even groped at the spot where your thighs and butt cheeks meet and suddenly squeezed them, making you yelp and startle the hallway full of confused students.

Thankfully, you were in a more secluded place on campus right now, free from the leering eyes of male students as they watched you slowly fall apart.

With trembling hands, you tapped on your messaging app to type up a response to the culprit behind your cruel torment.

‘Lilia plz knock it off’

You waited patiently for a reply. With some relief, you felt the hands temporarily release themselves from you, presumably to type a response back. A break that was short lived, however, as the moment your phone dinged from the incoming reply, you once again felt the hands begin to rub at you. This time, much rougher, and with purpose.

‘Now, why ever would I do that little one? The fun part has just begun.~’

As soon as you finished reading his text, you suddenly let out a pitched moan when you felt his thumb gently press down on your previously neglected clit. Your walls tightened as he rolled the sensitive nub in circles, fingers spreading your pussy open to play with the folds as your whole body shook.

You could definitely feel yourself dripping now, clear slick running down your thighs and soaking the top part of your thigh highs socks. You clutched the helm of your skirt, trying to pull it down and cover more of your front in embarrassment. You were really hating that he had removed your panties earlier on when he first started to tease you. Being so exposed an unable to keep from soaking yourself in your own mess was making everything so much worse.

You typed frantically the best you could while trying to ignore the sensation of his skilled fingers

‘U and ur stupid magic fantom hand thingys are drivin me crazy!!1’

You could only muffle your squeals and moans the best you could, looking around to make sure you were still alone as you stumbled over to somewhere with a bit more privacy. With the insistent prodding and palming of your pussy, you could only find a bench to sit down on to prevent yourself from falling and hurting yourself.

‘Oh, I just love to push your buttons dear! And this little one of yours is my absolute favorite to push and play with! So small. So cute. Just like you!~’

You let out a needy whine as he playfully pinched the puffy bud between his fingers, gently tweaking it and making your body tense up from the delicious sensation.

‘And it elicits such adorable sounds from you too.~’

Your legs trembled and shook as you spread them out more, giving him better access to your needy hole that was just dripping in anticipation for him. Two of his fingers easily slipped past your entrance, pumping themselves inside you at a leisurely pace. Waves of euphoria were crashing down onto you as your vision grew hazy from the pleasure.

The wooden bench was stained from your juices as you continued to leak from where you sat. you clutched onto the bench ends the more that coil twisted and tightened under his ministries. You were panting and moaning as his fingers found that special, spongey spot in you and began to abuse it with each pump.

All your previous responsibilities were long forgotten as Lilia fingered you with his magickly-produced phantom hands. His thumb still pressing and circling your overly sensitive clit as he worked you towards an orgasm.

Your toes were curling in your shoes, head thrown back as you felt yourself slowly approach your much anticipated release. Your body was impatiently bouncing slightly in the seat, moving to meet his own thrusts and pounding harder into your G spot. Your eyes closed tightly, vision blurring, and breath quickening when you felt yourself on the edge of pure euphoria.

And all at once, it suddenly stopped.

The phantom hands ceased their movements, slipping out of your warm hole, leaving your walls to clench along nothing. The coil was left to relax and simmer down, but still tight from the brink of release that was stolen from it. You blinked blurrily, vision still spotty as your head came to the conclusion of what just happened. Your pussy fluttering and still leaking, but empty and unsatisfied.

“Wah-?!” You slurred.

You quickly looked down, lifting up your skirt to see that the hands had completely disappeared. Your stomach dropped, panic rising as you stumbled to reach for your phone that you had tossed aside when you first sat down. Your eyes scanned to see if he had left anymore texts or if he was in the process of typing, only to see it completely silent. Your fingers quickly tapped away in desperation as anger flared within you at this cheeky old bastard.

‘Lilia wat the fuck?!1!’

You seethed as you saw the bubble with three little dots appear, indicating he was typing and very much still around, hands available, yet not putting them to good use. Like giving you that much deserved orgasm!

‘Oh my, just a few minutes ago you were telling me to “knock it off” and leave you be?’

‘Lilia Im literally going to explode’

You could just hear him chuckling at your response from wherever he was right now. You let out a huff, rubbing your thighs together to get some sort of relief, but to no avail, so you gave up. You were just about ready to call him to give him a piece of your mind when another text popped into chat.

‘Best be on your way and finish your errands. Don’t want to keep you waiting any longer now, dear.’

To end off his text and further punctuate his point, he used the phantom hand again to promptly flick your reddened clit, sharp nail scraping against it and sending a sudden shock wave of pleasure bolting to your core and causing you to double over. Your cunt clenched around nothing and you let out a desperate keen.

You glared angrily at his text, a few tears building up from frustration as you aggressively tapped away on your phone. You may be too pissed to call this irritating fae to yell his ear off, but you weren’t angry enough not to send him a few choice words.

‘plz plz plz PLEASE just let me cum already Vanrouge!!1 im horny im stressed and im about ready to make my way to diasomnia and whoop ur old creaky ass you fae fuck!1!!’

You continued to glare at your phone screen, waiting for your annoyingly charming fae lover to respond to your rather childish, but justified outburst via text.

‘Alright, if you insist.~’

Success.

You grin in victory, spreading your legs in anticipation of his hands lavishing you once more and finally rewarding you with the well-deserved orgasm. You felt the phantom hands on your thighs once more, spreading you further.

And then you felt the sensation of something warm and wet slowly lapping over your slit, spreading your folds and grazing over your sensitive clit. You let out a loud gasp, body tensing at the realization of what he was doing.

Your eyes widened as his phantom tongue began its torturous pattern of slowly lapping along your folds, before reaching your clit and sucking on it briefly, then starting all over again. You could feel your juices leaking out of you once more with each suck and lick, your phone dinging with incoming texts.

‘You taste absolutely divine, my dear. Still just as sweet and juicy as last time.~’

He made a point to dip his tip into your clenching cunt, lapping up your slick, then sucking up your release messily. You let out soft moans as your body convulsed under his touch.

‘In fact, I think I’ll enjoy this meal for a little while.~’

It was the sharp sensation of a pair of fangs gently nibbling on your poor clit that finally had you losing your mind as your moans grew louder and body helplessly approaching your orgasm once more. But every time you reached that edge, he would slow down or stop briefly until you settled down once more.

‘After all, you never clarified when to make you cum.~’

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education part 2 (platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

Summary : after the whole porn ordeal , castiel finds tumblr and the world of fanfiction has him asking more curious questions  which the residents of the bunker are not so happy to answer . 

warnings : mentions of smutty fics , cas being the curious baby in a trench coat we love .

After the whole angel porn ordeal , they were more careful with what cas was watching not wanting  history to repeat itself . Like monitoring a toddler on an iPad. Especially given that y/n wouldn't come out of her room for days not wanting to look any of them bar sam in the eyes .  Dean even limited his teasing when it came to the subject . Today he was luckily out while cas was on laptop , Sam and Y/N were looking over some incoming cases seeing which needed to be handled first .

" interesting this is very interesting " the angel spoke making them look over both slightly relieved not see or hear an explicit image on the laptop. 

" I've been on a interesting site that led me to many other over the last couple of days " he  spoke up .

" what was that buddy" she smiled over. Their joy short lived when he uttered the next few sentences out of his mouth .

" tumblr that led me to all these other sites , did you know there is fanfiction of us like the play we seen except it's classed as what they call smut " he looked up at the two .

" why didn't  I go on the supply run ,  why am I here when he finds this shit " she cursed up at the ceiling .

" could be nothing " sam offered a weak smile .

" did you know most popular is Dean x y/n fiction seems as though you are most shipped although there are some of Dean and sam with you too " he mused .

" but I could be wrong" sam winced taking the laptop off of cas completely .

" how do you find these things " he asked looking through the tabs .

" I'm very pop culture savvy now " cas said proudly . 

" what the hell man why are you reading all these " sam groaned wanting burning his eyes out seeing an explicitly  wrong image of Dean and himself (no to wincest) .  " you are actually popular with them Y/n " sam mused .

" that's after  that stupid ghost hunting  website and chuck " she grumbled  wondering where she was going to start her new life.

" hey there's even some with you and cas " he chuckled. 

" Alaska or maybe Australia would be better it further Away " she mused .

" wow these are extremely detailed " sam continued .

" would you call Dean daddy , the stories seem to think you would " cas asked .

" what the hell did I walk into " the man in question walked into the room .

" my resignation  " she mumbled hiding her head in her arms. 

" destiel  is another popular one " sam chuckled. 

" cas found smutty fanfictions " she looked up to see the clueless expression on Dean's face.

" they suggest that Y/n is a sub and you are a Dom " the angel stated.

" wanna see if they're right sweetheart " Dean winked .

" wanna kill me cause I can't be dealing with this" she countered wondering if she could also legally change her name.

" why are they so descriptive on the parts , have they seen them" cas sat looking between the three .

" the way Dean sleeps around they probably seen his " she reasoned.

" they also suggest you like..." .

" do not even finish that one" she growled .

"so many kinks cas did you google all these" sam asked eyes widening at the search history. 

" i was looking at chucks book and comments said to check out the tumblr versions " he said looking confused to what he did wrong. " they forgot to add that birthmark just below your tits " he added matter of factly .

" when did you see her ... what he got to see i didn't" dean turned to Y/n , who honestly rather be stuck with Crowley for eternity than this .

" he walked in while i was getting dressed and it not a birthmark it's a scar from a battle with an old favourite bra "she could feel her cheeks redder than they've been so far . "i'm going to my room to pack for my new life in australia" she stormed out her room .

" she's kidding right?" dean asked looking to the mean .

" you should dom her  and make her stay , they said she responds to good girl" cas explained .

" i wonder if she would let me come with her " sam mused walking out after her.  

another awkward dinner bobby was almost afraid to ask. Although dean was smiling more than the others.

" cas read fanfiction , pornographic fan fiction " dean explained .

" i've also read some theories too, like bobby is Y/N Dad and not her uncle" cas smiled making bobby choke on his water.

"  their theories cas they're not right ... right? " she laughed but stopped when she notice bobby expression or how he would barel look at her.

" i mean it's a possibility " he mused truthfully making her jaw drop

" great more daddy issue not like the place is drowning in them with these two " she pinched the bridge of her nose and point at sam and dean.

" so the theories of dean being her soulmate are true " cas asked.

" probably " dean shrugged winking at her .

" why did i ever come here, sam wanna move to australia with me " she ignored the other three men .

" look me and your mom had a brief thing , your dad well your dad agreed while he..." . 

" australia sound nice " sam agreed cutting bobby short .

" hey stop denying our love even nerds on internet think we'd be hot together"dean spoke up .

" cas from now on stop the curiosity or so help me i will make you eat the computer  " she  groaned learning too much information for the day .

"we need to do dna test " she turned to bobby .

" you can pick me up at 7 " she turned to dean before walking out leaving the men speechless . 

" i got punished" cas pouted .

" i got a kid  kinda " bobby gulped .

" i got a date " dean smirked .

" and i got a rock ... It's a thing on tiktok ... what cass isn't the only pop culture savvy one around here " sam shrugged .

part three

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night. 

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed. 

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm. 

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept. 

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already. 

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes. 

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right. 

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?” 

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

-

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire. 

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—” 

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

-

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far. 

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items. 

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately. 

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse. 

-

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse. 

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen. 

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment. 

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea. 

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment. 

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

-

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness. 

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice. 

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him. 

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time. 

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.” 

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

 “If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him. 

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof. 

But, here he was, lusting after you. 

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made. 

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet. 

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play. 

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid. 

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake. 

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you. 

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves. 

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water. 

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly. 

Like you’d been caught. 

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite. 

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind. 

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect. 

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

-

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape. 

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration. 

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind. 

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut. 

Joel was safe, he was good. 

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it. 

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning. 

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

[shy4turcs]

Hii could u do a thigh riding fic for quinn pls?

“Can I?” Quinn Hughes

Best friend older brother!Quinn X innocent!reader

Summary: after your best friend jack cancels on movie night last minute you decided to invite his older brother Quinn instead…

A/n: this is a bit long but enjoy also sorry for the long wait I have some personal stuff going on!

Warnings: smut, thigh riding, praising, innocence kink, I think that it

Tags: @drysdalesv @hvghes @sunkissed-zegras

Setting up pillows, blankets, and snack in the living room for yours and jacks weekly movie night before your phone started ringing;

*incoming call from Jacky boy🙄*

Picking your phone up to answer, barely get a word out before Jack starts rambling

“Y/n I’m so sorry I can’t make it tonight, got a last minute call from Bauer they want me back at the rink tonight” he huffed out, now just sitting in silent until you spoke up.

“Jack I had everything all set up already, but that’s okay I’ll just do a movie night to myself” You sighed moving to get comfortable on the couch waiting for jack’s responds.

“No no no I don’t want you to just be alone tonight…” he paused half way through his sentence to think “Quinn staying at my place tonight maybe invite him over, I bet he’d be down” he quickly spoke

“Okay i guess I’ll text him” you spoke, put jack on speaking then clicking onto yours and Quinn’s messages

“hey I need to get going though, again I’m sorry next week i promise I’ll be there” he rushed out, both of your said your goodbyes and loves yous before hanging up and continuing to text Quinn.

You don’t even know what to text him, unknown to most but you had the biggest feelings for your best friend older brother and inviting him over would be the first time you guys have hungout alone without jack.

Y/n: hey jack canceled on me last minute, I already have everything set up for movie night if you wanna drive over and hangout

You sent the text letting out a nervous breath just staring at your phone shocked to see Quinn typing so fast.

Quinner 🫣: just us?

Looking at the text thinking to yourself ‘oh god he probably doesn’t want to, I’m definitely annoying him’ before texting him back

Y/n: yea…

Y/n: is that okay?

Tapping on the back of your phone anxiously waiting for his text back, few seconds later his notification pops up.

Quinner 🫣: yeah that’s fine

Quinner 🫣: leaving now

You liked his messages while getting up and running to your room to change in spandex and a big tee, you were originally wearing old sweats and one of jack hoodies. You looked homeless before which is fine for jack to see but not Quinn.

-time skip 15 minutes later-

When Quinn had arrived, there was a short knock at the door followed by the ding of your phone. His contact name with a message notifying you that he was at your door. Slowly getting up from the couch and shaking off your nerves as your opened the door saying your hellos before inviting him inside.

“What movie do you wanna watch” You shyly asked looking at him as you sat down on the opposite side of the couch from him

“I thought you would already have something pick out, um let me think” he spoke as he jutted his hips forward getting comfortable, full manspread. Your face went red at the sight, he just looked too good in his grey sweats and black hoodie. Quinn cleared his throat causing you to snap out of your daze making your eyes instantly look at his, your face now even redder then before as he just caught you staring.

"Um usually Jack picks out what we watch" you softly spoke still flustered by the sight of Quinn. Quinn just let out a hum trying to think before scooting over closer to you and leaning over your small frame to grab the remote next to your head putting your faces just inches apart.

You just stared at him doe eyed completely speechless feeling very hot all over. you needed him and god he just looked so good, full manspread and his beautiful thighs on full display you were practically drooling at the sight. Quinn loved this just watching you eye-fuck him, it truly boosted his ego. He loved the way you were so innocent about it just becoming a flustered mess, he had such an effect on you it drove him crazy.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours mhm” Quinn spoke snapping you out of your thoughts making your cheeks flushed at the pet name, also the fact he had caught you staring twice now.

“Um nothing, did you find a movie” you quickly spoke changed the subject this made Quinn laugh, he knew what you wanted he just wanted you to say it.

“Yeah, Friends With Benefits?” Quinn questioned cocking his eyebrow up while looking at you.

“Um yeah put that on” you spoke not daring to take your eyes off the screen in front of you as you felt Quinn’s eyes roaming over all your exposed skin, your skin felt on fire with his lustful gaze.

Quinn started the movie finally taking his eyes off of you while you both just watched in silence. Your body had finally calmed down after 15 minutes until a sex scene came on causing you to become hot again, clenching your thighs together and your mind racing with thoughts about the older Hughes brother that sat across the couch from you. Quinn took notice to this, watching you as you clenched your thighs together every couple of seconds as loud moans played through the tv speakers.

“Quinn can you pass me a blanket please” you quietly spoke, you just needed to cover up from Quinn gaze you could practically feel him undressing you with his eyes.

“You know I’m pretty cold too and there only one ou-“ Quinn spoke before getting interrupted

“I’ll just go grab another” you said quickly standing about to walk pass Quinn to your room before Quinn grabbed your waist pulling you into his lap causing you to gasp.

“We can just share, you comfy?” Quinn whispered in your ear, his lips brushing over your cheek sending chills down your spine. You let out a little “yeah” before moving your hips to get comfortable in his hold causing his grip to tighten on your waist as he let out a small grunt.

“Please stay still” he groaned out as your shift your hips once more finally getting comfortable also letting out a small “sorry”. The groan that left his mouth made your core throb, clenching your thigh together to relieve some of the neediness of your pussy. You were quickly snapped out if your needy thought at the feeling of Quinn growing hard beneath you causing your face to grow bright red.

“Your in control pretty girl, tell me to stop and I will” he rasped out kissing down your neck, marking you up causing breathy moans to leave your lips feeling his beard scratch against your neck. The movie had been completely forgotten about, now just playing in the background

“Turn around for me baby” Quinn whispered kissing your sweet spot before you got up sitting back down, now straddling one of his thick thighs moaning out at the feeling of your clothed clit against his grey sweats.

“Is this okay” Quinn spoke cupping your face into his hands making you look at him, you nodded your head not trusting your words in that moment causing Quinn to smirk.

“I need words beautiful” he said moving his hands from your face to your hips gripping them harshly.

“I- um yeah I just don’t really know what to do” you shyly spoke looking away from Quinn’s eyes in embarrassment. Quinn let out a slight chuckle cupping your chin with his hand turning you to look at him again before kissing you hard.

“That’s okay princess, just tell me what you need” Quinn spoke brushing his lips against your jaw line to your ear before kissing right below it. Quinn gently gripped your hips slowly rocking you against him causing you to moan out holding onto Quinn.

“I need to feel you please” you whimpered out, Quinn pulled you off of him stripping himself of his sweats and boxers looking up at you for your consent before pulling your spandex and panties down in one go.

“Oh sweet girl your dripping” he mocked you making you blush in embarrassment. Quinn slipped one of his finger between your folds barely grazing over your clit making you whimper out, slipping his finger into his mouth moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Your knees almost buckled at the sight.

“Taste so good, so fuckin good” he said to himself almost like you weren’t there

“Wanna ride my thigh baby mh? You’ve been looking at them all night” Quinn spoke grabbing your hips once more dragging you down onto his thigh, Quinn groaned at the feeling of your wet cunt on his thigh slowly starting to rock you against him. Quinn swore he’d never heard anything prettier then the little whimpers leaving your pillowy lips as he rocked you fast despite for you to make a mess all over. Quinn abs tensed at the feeling of your delicate fingers gliding down them under his hoodie stopping right above his throbbing cock.

“Can I?” You questioned looking up at Quinn doe eyed, Quinn just nodded his head. Hesitantly you grabbed his hard dick leaking with pre Cum as swiping your thumb over his slit spreading it all over before slow jerking him.

“So so so good for me baby” he groaned throwing his head back, his grip on you tightened grinding your faster on his thigh as he starts to bounce his foot making pleasure shoot through you.

“Oh fuck Quinn, please don’t stop I’m so close f-fuck” you moaned out completely stopping your movement on his cock as you began to tremble letting out a scream of his name cumming all over over him. Taking a breathe before looking up at Quinn and kissing his slightly chapped lips.

“That’s my good girl” Quinn softly spoke while brushing the hair out of your face. Quinn massaged your hips and thighs as you just laid against his chest listening to his heart beat basking in the pleasurable silence between you two before you quietly mumbled something.

“What was that baby, I need you to speak up love” Quinn spoke pinching your chin between his fingers forcing you to look at him.

“Wanna ride you” you whispered barely getting your words out as you looked away from his hungry graze, your cheeks turning pink in embarrassment.

“Wanna be full of me mh?” Quinn smirked grabbing your hips helping you hover over his cock before you sunk down on him, both of you letting out loud moans at the feeling of eachother.

“So big, so full” you whimpered, Quinn’s long cock filled you to the brim hitting places you could never reach with your fingers. Slowly beginning to rock against him

“Do you trust me pretty girl” Quinn questioned as he helped guide your hips against his. Not trusting your words you just nodded your head leaning forward against his chest.

“I need words baby, words” Quinn rasped out running his hands up and down your back before reaching down and harshly grabbing your ass forcing a moan out of you

“Yes I trust you” you whimpered into his ear running your hand through the hair on the back of his head tugging it lightly making Quinn groan

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good” Quinn spoke before holding you close to his chest his arms locked around your waist thrusting himself up deep inside you, he was losing himself in you

“Quinn!” You scream out of shock pleasure coursing through your veins as he constantly hit your g spot over and over again, gripping the back of his head and kissing down his neck to conceal your moans as the pleasure became to much.

“Come on baby I know your close” Quinn groaned speeding up his thrust moving one of his hands to rub tight circles on your clit

“Fuck oh my, I’m gonna Cum please” you screamed holding onto Quinn for dear life as the most powerful orgasm washes over leaving your legs shaking as Quinn kept thrusting into close to cumming

“Quinn I cant it too much” you whimpered trying to push away as Quinn thrust became sloppy

“I know I know I’m almost there pretty girl” Quinn spoke letting out a loud moan before spilling inside of you releasing his tight grip on you. Quinn pulled you off of him before standing and grabbing a towel to clean you up quickly returning, he squatted down in front of you slowly kissing from your ankle to the inside of your thigh stopping occasionally to praise you for being such a good girl while gently wiping the mess between your legs. He then picked you up carefully laying you in bed as you were practically almost asleep before laying down next to you pulling you into his side and kissing your head.

“Goodnight my sweet girl” he softly spoke before passing out.

[noxi3xe]

Unfortunate turn of events

AFAB reader x Pantalone - NSFW (Minors DNI) Synopsys: You're in a tough spot and have terrible luck with finding jobs. Whatever might happen once you apply for a job at the Northland bank?

Warnings: Smut, Porn /w plot, public sex, hair pulling, overall just a quick smut scene w some plot

Words: 3.5K

Author's note:

This is also posted on AO3 HERE!!

this is a quick fic I wrote while bored, the *smut* scene is short and awkward so I apologize, but still enjoy!!

Minors dni!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

»I— I'll fix it.. I swear!«

I beg and plead as the shop owner shoves me out the door. I was a good employee, I really was, I always tried my best and always put my everything into every shift. I slump down against the door and begin to sob. This job was barely enough to cover for monthly food rations.. and aside from food I needed to fix up my house and save up for new clothes. I was going to even look for a second job to cover all of my expenses but now I don't have anything! I do not even know what triggered that immediate reaction, I mean, firing me on the spot? After breaking a simple vase that the shop manager bought just a week ago? From what I overheard it wasn't even expensive!

I stand up slowly and make my way back home, head hung low in defeat. I wasn't sure what to do now, I mean.. I've got to find a job, sure, but that was harder done than said nowadays, especially at this time of the year. Snezhnaya was a cold country all year round but winters were especially harsh. I wonder how I'd survive this year, I mean my roof is busted, my water supply is running low due to my pipes freezing up thanks to my broken heating system and not to mention that one of my windows cracked. With no heating, cracked windows and a part missing roof my house was as cold as the outside and I was barely surviving. I wasn't sure what to do till I saw freshly hung posters in the town square as I passed.

'Looking for hire.'

They said, and I stepped closer, considering the idea without even checking for the publisher. I'm glad I did because my eyes almost jumped out of my skull. It would've been a death sentence to join the Fatui and there's no way I'd even consider taking up this job offer, even if my life depends on it. The Northland bank is looking for hire? Yeah no thanks..

I stumble along and head home, hugging myself tightly, already missing my warm.. well.. as warm as it can get, blanket.

________

I stare at the dry piece of bread and the already lukewarm coffee set before me on the table. Everyday is getting harder and I don't know if I'll have enough money to buy food for next week. I lean forward and rest my head into my palms, sighing loudly. I don't know what else to do, I cannot find a job and donations from doing community service aren't enough. It's getting colder each day and I have a feeling I'll freeze if I don't get my house fixed up. That's when I decide that enough is enough and stand up, grabbing my coat.

I step out into the cold and begin to venture downtown, ready to start my search. I couldn't continue on like this knowing I'll eventually starve without a stable income. I knew I'd have to get up and start looking this morning when I found another window cracked.

—

I shuffle through the thick snow, snow slowly falling from the sky. It's a beautiful sight, the sun rising behind the parting clouds coloring the sky a bright gray-orange-blue-ish color. It was barely 6:30 in the morning and I was already threading through the city, heading towards the commission's guild, knowing I could make a quick buck or two there. Then I'd head towards the community board in the city center at around 9 to check for any new posters. The idea was great and It worked out perfectly.. to a degree.

I stopped by The adventurers guild like I said I would, greeting Katheryne and wishing her a wonderful morning. I accepted two out of three commissions offered to me, seeing as the third involved fighting some Hilichurls and I wasn't very skilled with weapons. I barely used my Pryo vision and even that was when I needed a source of heat, having no other use for the darn thing. The other two commissions were the delivery type. Ivanka, a widow living on the outskirts of the city required a fresh batch of groceries delivered and Jasmine, a local florist required some fresh soil that needed to be picked up from the dock and delivered to her straight. The commissions didn't take long and I was done very quickly, before the clock even struck 9.

I made my way back towards the Adventurer's guild, waving towards Katheryne from a far.

»I'm back!«

I exclaim excitedly. Katheryne offers me a bright smile, opening her mouth to speak.

»Thank you for completing Today's commissions. Here is your reward.«

I grab the pouch she holds out to me and flinch due to it's weight.

»A-Ah! Thank you!«

I grin and straighten a little then look around. People were beginning to wake up, go about their day and open up shops. I turn back to Katheryne and stare at her for a second then ask.

»Do you know if anybody's offering jobs of any kind for a little income?«

She thinks for a second then nods, giving me a reassuring smile.

»Well I believe the Northland bank is still searching! Best of luck if you do choose to give it a try!«

I freeze and look around. The Northland bank? Still? It's been a week and the spot hasn't been filled yet? There's no way I'd even get the job if no other has been able to in the past week! Still I believe there's no other choice I have.. Katheryne would've mentioned it if there were any other job offers available but I doubt there is since she hasn't mentioned anything. I slowly make my way towards the plaza hoping and praying to the Tsaritsa and any Celestial force that might hear my prayers to bless me with a job that is NOT working at the Northland bank.

I round the corner, passing by the local bakery and spot a younger girl standing by the notice board, either taking something off or nailing a poster to the board, I wasn't sure. I approach her slowly before making my presence known as to not startle her.

»Hey! Morning..«

I say and she turns around to look at me then offers me a friendly smile.

»Mornin'«

I now stand next to her and look over at the board confirming my suspicions. She indeed was taking a poster off, the one for the local flower shop. I tried applying for a simple cashier job there but I was too late and the place was taken before I could even ask about the offer. I sigh, spotting the last job poster on the board and my heartbeat speeds up a bit. I groan and the lady looks over at me, worriedly.

»You alright, ma'am?«

She asks and I nod, apologizing.

»Indeed, I apologize, I'm just having terrible luck looking for a job.«

She hums, nodding.

»Good luck, hey the Northland bank seems to still have an open spot? Considered checking it out?«

»I have but I doubt it's smart to get involved with the Fatui..«

»That is true.. well best of luck!«

She wishes me a good day and I return the kind words, watching her disappear around the block. I stare at the board. Town info, news reports, missing person posters, the board was filled with crap like that yet no job offers. I snatch the Northland bank poster, ripping it off and turn towards home, deciding that perhaps this was my last chance. I'll put on my best clothes and warmest smile and hope for the best.

_____

I stand before the large doors, shuddering at the thought that if luck's on my side today there might just be a chance I'd have to pass them every day. I take a moment to collect myself then slowly push the pine doors open, taking my first step inside. The warmth hits me in the face immediately and I stop for a moment, taking in the warm air and sweet smell. The Bank smells like a bakery would and it isn't as loud as one would think. People are speaking in hushed tones and keeping to themselves, not one dares to speak up. The place is clean, and I mean clean. Even the plants look perfect!

I step up to the front desk and the secretary looks up from the papers, giving me a warm smile.

»Good afternoon! How may I help you?«

She asks in a tone so cheery I didn't think was possible.  I look around for a brief moment then back to her, forcing myself to return the gesture.

»I heard you were offering a job?«

Her cheery facade drops and she stares at me, dumbfounded. I wasn't sure whether she was about to laugh seeing as somebody like me was definitely not fit to work in a bank, or because I was ballsy enough to actually show up to the bank without hesitation and ask about the job? I mean the poster was up for a long while therefore I'm guessing nobody realllllyyy wanted to even think about taking up the offer.

»M-Ma'am?«

I stutter and freeze up when she suddenly snaps out of whatever trance she was in and her warm smile returns.

»A-Apologies..! Come with me!«

She doesn't ask for my information, for even my name nor what the job would be other than working behind a desk! She just asks me to follow after her and seeing as I hold no authority over her I do not really have the right to stop her and ask her pointless questions that have a chance of getting answered even after I follow her.

We make our way up a looped staircase onto the first floor which is connected to a balcony that overlooks the bank. Every millimeter of the bank walls is covered in golden and wooden details, gems and crystals of different kinds. Even the floor looks expensive and neatly polished. I heard that the maids get paid quite a lot and they don't have to deal with customers or any of the Fatui officials therefore I wonder how much I will get paid for doing both! I could salivate at the thought of how well I'll fix up my little house with the hard earned money but I decided to push those thoughts away seeing as there's a chance I'll jinx myself and not get the job if I think about it too hard. I focus my attention back onto the bank worker and offer her a soft smile as she opens the glass double doors for me, the ones we stopped in front of after leading me down a maze of hallways.

»One of our employers should be in right now, they'll take it over from here. Best of luck, Comrade!«

She says and turns on her heel, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath before creaking the door open slowly, dipping one foot inside the room then following with my whole body and finally the other foot. I now stand inside the room my attention immediately falling onto the circular desk in the middle of the room. Behind it sit three ladies, all facing away from each other, a slim pillar extending outward towards the ceiling stands in the very middle. Their desk looks awfully messy and they seem to be in a rush. I step over and greet the black haired one, offering her a smile although I do not get one in return.

»Make it quick please, I'm busy.«

She chews on a piece of gum rather loudly, clicking the pen impatiently. I stutter but step closer, placing my ID onto the table.

»[Last name][Name], [Age], I saw you guys were looking for a secretary and was wondering whether there was any chance it was still open. I'll be honest I have no work experience in this field and don't really know what the job of a secretary involves... b-but I learn very quickly...!«

She stares at me and sighs, shaking her head. Her demeanor went from annoyed to tired in an instant and she didn't seem so hostile anymore.

»No experience you say? Ughh... erm.. well this job requires a lot of running around and a good memory s—«

I cut her off immediately, scrambling to catch my words. She shoots me a glance but doesn't stop me.

»That's no problem, really.. ! O-Oh and I remember things quickly!«

She nods, signalling that she indeed was listening as she writes something down.

»Well you'll have to wait because we were ju—«

Just as she was about to finish speaking she gets interrupted for the second time, this time not daring to look a bit annoyed. Through one of the hallways enters..

The Regator

The doors opened by Fatui Skrimishers as they escort him into the room and he sets eyes on one of the desk workers, unfortunately exactly the one I was speaking to.

»You!«

One of the Skrimishers calls out and she yelps.

»M-Me..?«

The Skrimisher walks over, slapping a pile of reports onto her table.

»Go make a copy for each and every one of these separately, now!«

The Regator stares at us intently and she looks up at him, then at me and finally at the Skrimisher.

»But.. M-My Lord.. I was tending to this young lady, she's here for an interview..!«

His smile twists into a large grin upon hearing those words and he finally speaks, his voice silky smooth.

»Wonderful, I'll take over from here.«

He purrs and I freeze. Take over? I'll get interviewed by The Regator himself? This is a joke..

I step back towards the desk and stare at the man who takes a step closer, eyes narrowing.

»Chop, chop! I don't have all day.«

He says, his tone changing immediately. He moves past us towards the back of the room where stands an impressive set of double doors which leads to another hallway. The Regator looks over his shoulder and I jump, realizing I have to follow and not just stare! We enter another expensively decorated room which seemed to serve as a waiting room. At the very far right wall stood yet another set of doors. I wonder how many this place even has. The Skrimishers open the door for the 9th and he steps inside. I hesitate for a second but just for a second as the next moment I am standing inside of the office, doors closed behind me. I was shoved inside and didn't really have a choice.

»Well then? I sure don't have all day. Come on, sit.«

His demeanor changed immediately, his smile gone and his eyes cold, staring daggers through my form. I approach slowly and pull the cushioned chair out, cringing at the sound it makes as it scrapes against the floor. I cautiously sit down and The Regator leans back, pulling out a blank form from one of his drawers.

»Let's make this quick. I'll need a full name and age, address, previous work experience..«

He continues on but I don't really listen to him, more than what not staring at the blank form. Would my picture go there? Why do they need so much information? What would happen if I just refused and got out of here. He snaps me out of my thoughts as he clears his throat.

»Are you still with me?«

He's becoming irritated.

»My apologies, My Lord.«

»Ah so you can speak after all.«

He grins, sliding me the sheet.

»Make sure to be quick, we'll have to interview you properly.«

I nod and swallow nervously as I rake my eyes over the sheet of paper. He holds out a pen, his long slender fingers adorned with all kinds of rings and jewels. He smiles, although his smile unlike the other employees' wasn't warm and welcoming, more like threatening. I return the smile awkwardly as I take the pen, focusing back on the paper. There wasn't much to fill out except for personal information. Why would my work place need my address? My previous one sure as hell did not, so why now? Well perhaps it was to mail me the check, but still I can collect it at work!

»[Name]..«

He mumbles as he watches me write my name down. I look up immediately and he grins, waving me off.

»Is there a problem, M-My Lord..?«

»Oh don't you worry your pretty head off, nothing's wrong, continue on.«

I hum and skip through the attention notice, then finish the task I was given. I lay the pen down and look back up. He's focused on the sheet rather intently. He reaches forward, sliding it over the desk and I freeze. Oh right, he actually has to read this. His eyes scan the page and he frowns. Oh no..

»Antique shop manager? That's unfortunate.«

»I— Is there a problem...?«

»I don't think your past work experience matches what we are looking for. Quite unfortunate I must say.«

He sighs and stands up and my heart drops. Wait.. so I didn't get it? But..!

»W—Wa— My Lord! I seriously need this job I..«

I cannot believe I'm begging for a job I was at first hesitant to even apply for but at this point it is my last chance, the only means of survival.

»Oh really? Do tell me why this position should be granted to exactly you over every other person twice as experienced as you.«

As experienced as me? For fucks sake it's just some numbers! I grit my teeth and look at him, knowing I'd regret my words immediately.

»What every other person? As far as I've noticed I'm the only one applying for this job, no other was in line behind me!«

His smile falls and I freeze yet again.

»Oh?«

»I— W—«

He slams his hands onto the table and stands up, I gulp.

»You've got guts to bark out against a harbinger, I'll give you that.«

I melt into my chair as I watch him round the table, staring down at my form.

»Not only you decide to go against my word and my beliefs you as well try to demand things from me?«

»I—«

»So tell me, Gem. Why should a job as highly paying as this go to somebody lowly like you?«

»M-My Lord..«

He scoffs and stops before me, leaning against the desk just two or so feet away from me. I look up and he grins widely for what feels like the 100th time, knowing I'm afraid and won't even think about acting out again.

»W-Well.. a tree fell and some windows cracked.. I— I have been barely s-surviving...I—«

I stare at my feet, fumbling with my hands. I know there's no chance of redemption now but all I can do is pray. He hums, grabbing my face and I flinch, staring up at him in disbelief. The cold metal of his rings digs into my face and I grimace at the feeling.

»I have an idea how we could fix this mishap..«

I try to pull away but he grabs at his belt and I think I've got just the Idea.

___

He pulls at my hair, bringing my head back as I gasp for air. Tears run freely down my cheeks as I choke on his precum and my own saliva, barely catching a breath before he brings my head back down, stuffing my mouth.

»Yo-You know— haah..«

He bites at his lips before pulling my head off again.

»I usually don't do this but.. celestia.. I couldn't help myself..«

I sob as he brings me up by my collar, chasing my mouth with his own. He groans as our lips connect, moving together furiously, melting into each other. A string of saliva connects us as he pulls away, the scene is absolutely filthy.

»The way you looked up at me.. dear Tsaritsa.. haa—«

He groans as I trace my hand up his length and attempt sink back to my knees to finish what I've started but he stops me, gripping my arm before I could. I look up at him again and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Suddenly I'm flipped around and over his desk as he grips my hair, forcing me forward. I gasp as he grips my hips, leaning over my body.

»You know... I'm tempted to sign you up as my personal assistant right about now. You'd like that, wouldn't you?«

He says as he slowly slides pulls my pants down, slapping my ass.

»I asked you a question.«

He grips my throat and shoves me further into the table and I cry out. His cold rings making me shiver.

»Y-Yes! I would love to—«

He slaps me again, this time harder before pulling my undergarments off with such force I swear to everything I own I could have heard a rip. I can hear the grin on his face as he speaks again, fingers tracing my opening.

»I'm sure of it..«

He slides his fingers inside my heat, curling them upwards and I jolt, sobbing into my hand.

»We'll have to train you then, you said you were a fast learner? Did I hear that right?«

I simply nod but he frowns, not that I could see it, of course. He removes his fingers with a whine from my side and smacks my ass again, hard enough to leave a mark.

»I expect a proper answer whenever I ask you a question.«

»Y-Yes! Ye—ees My Lord!«

He grins again, rubbing the spot he just struck.

»Wonderful, don't you worry I'll call off my next meeting then we'll have plenty of time!« ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Written by DottoreEnjoyer69 on AO3

[villainsimpqueen]

Medical Incubus

Recom Ja x Male Researcher Recom Reader

(ALL MY FICS ARE 18+ MDNI)

Warnings- Smut, blow jobs. Semi-public. Truck blowjobs.

Requested by: A friend.

It was not often when you had to leave BridgeHead for outside research, but when your team did have to leave base the RDA always ensured security.

Your research team had just discovered a new parasite on the east side of Pandora where the forest merges with marshlands. The parasite seemed to be high in medical properties that the RDA wanted to explore by making mediceuticals to transport back to earth. You knew that they would then have an earthian team further divide the strains for different classes' income, the poor getting the weakest. Sometimes you wish your work would help everyone without being another large company's pocket change.

Your team was already packed and heading out to head to the marshlands. Your security team was a few members from the Phoenix project, recombinant soldiers. You tried not to stare at them as you walked past them with the rest of your team, it was a strange yet fascinating sight to see others the same as you.

inhuman.

Yet more advanced to be simple Avatars.

Your eyes would move over each soldier as you walked past, one bald with shades on, another with a bandanna on his head, a chick with a mohawk that fed into a braid, the last one being closer to the truck, sporting a medical vest and a cap.

His bright green eyes moved over you for a moment before he gave a curt nod. You pressed your lips together in a short smile before loading onto the truck sitting beside the other members of your team researchers.

“Let's get moving!” One of the soldiers called before the truck shook with them loading up on the outside seats in the truck bed.

You turned to look out of the window looking between the sitting recoms to see how they sat. One moved to sit on the roof of the truck making a snort leave you as you turned back to focus on the briefing between your teammates.

The task at the hand should be simple. Head into the marshlands waist deep and collect water samples and analyze them to see if parasites were gathered. You were tasked to at least gather ten mg of parasites.

The extra security was there simply to keep the research team safe from wild animals and hostile Na'vi.

The soldiers watched as your team suited up in rubber suits before each one of you all started walking into the marshlands to gather what you came to the marshes for.

You happened to pair up with a teammate you were close with and the both of you focused on your jobs like you should've.

“They're quite fine, in a freshly turned alien way.” Your work friend spoke, making you smirk and steal glances at the soldiers.

Well….mostly focused on work.

“The medic for sure.” You commented on as your eyes found their way to the golden eyed baseball cap wearing recom.

“You think he got hair under there?” Your friend teased about his cap making you roll your eyes.

“I'm sure he does.” You had responded.

“Mmmm i don't know he might be cat fishing under that cap.” they mused as they pulled out a sample from the water running the analysis scans over them.

Your eyes moved over the medic again, stopping on the tight shirt that he was wearing. You bit your tongue as you could faintly make out nipple piercings under his shirt and looked back to your so called work shaking your head.

“I don't think it matters.” You spoke after a few moments of silence.

You could feel your friend stare at you for a moment.

“You gonna tap his ass?” They asked with a smirk growing and you tried to not feel the heat on your cheeks as you looked at your sample as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Please ... .if anything he'd bring me down” You spoke softly trying not to take in your friends' laughs as mockery.

The rest of the time so far in the marshes was going well, at least you had thought…It wasn't until the soldiers started yelling shouting orders for all researchers to get out of the water and onto the shore the three of you and your friend were off guard.

You both didn't even spare each other a glance as you both took the hell off to the shore lines.

You flinched as you heard a bullet fly past your head making your heart jump towards your throat.

Water splashing widely beside you and you heard the ringing of a yelp from your friend making you turn your head to see that they had vanished. Your heart quickened as you felt your blood starting to become thicker as if you slowly started to freeze.

Shouting became a haze as you stared at the rippling water of where your friend had once been. Your breathing is sharpening in your ear.

Another bullet flew by your face.

Tour chest started heaving up and down in a harsh pattern, your ears slicking back as your pupils started to shrink as bubbles started to drag away from the ripples.

Your friend being taken.

You let out a shout when your arm wrapped around you and you felt your body being lifted, your head spinning as you heaved when your stomach fell onto something hard, confusion forming as if something was moving, bullets still flying past you.

Whatever was holding you you clung to them, your claws digging through their shirt and into your back, you could hear a growl and hiss but it fell on deaf ears as you saw the ripples of the water grow the water forming over something large and all you could see teeth as more bullets spread through the air.

The grip around you tightening as they mustve finally got to solid land as the shift of their shoulder digging into your stomach got harsher.

You had let out a groan, there were more shouts and your word spinned more as you were set down into something, the force of being thrown down causing you to fall into the hardness of the truck bed making you let out a wheeze.

“Shit..sorry..” Someone muttered as a hand grabbed your work shirt yanking you back up, your world of tree canopy shifting to bright golden eyes and a half drenched man with a baseball cap.

You stared up at him, and he must have taken in the look on your face or the possibility that you were in shock because his hand made place against your cheek rapping against it a few times making you blink and inhale a sharp breath as you started to process what had happened.

“Hey..You're okay..Alright? Stay with me.” His voice carried way to your ears making them perk up as you look back to golden eyes. The man smiled at you, his lips pulling upwards revealing his longer k-9s in the process.

“Hey, you with me man?” He asks you again and you hesitantly nod clearing your throat.

“My friend…” You whispered you didn't want to seem weak but the fact that you were just joking with your friend to them vanishing from sight…it weighed on you.

“Hey, don't focus on that.” The soldier spoke again, making you look up at him.

“Just focus on me for right now.”

You knew he meant in the context of ignoring the death of your friend. to ground yourself.

stable your mind.

But shock was a hell of a drug.

Your eyes moved on him, focusing on him alright as you took in his soaked shirt against his chest, how the drenched thing hugged tightly against his well defined chest and chiseled abs. Ypu dont know who the hell designed hid recombinant body, but fuck…

They cooked with it.

Your eyes focused and shamefully narrowed in on his nipple piercings once again, and you swallowed thickly, ears perking up more and you felt your tail move twitching against the truck bed.

Your ears flinched as you heard a chuckle leave him and your eyes flicked back to golden eyes and a flaring nose.

The soldier's ears flicked up as well as he stared down at you.

“Not exactly what I meant.” He spoke again, his voice straining with a huskyness as if he was holding back a growl as he stared into your own eyes.

You were ashamed of the noise you let out at it as your face warmed and darken, a shiver moving down your spine shamefully to the tip of your tail which was swaying more on the truck bed.

“What's your name?” He asked tilting his head at you, his eyes narrowing pupils darken in a way that made you feel a rush to your lower abdomen. Your throat tightening again as you fought the urge to swallow as you had to remind yourself to recollect yourself.

“y/n, Im Y/n '' You answered his question as you took in the look on his face how his thick eyebrows furrowed some before his eyes slid away from you mostly to observe something else before they slid back over entirely on top of you.

“Well y/n, Why don't I give you some well needed medical attention in the truck.” He spoke there was confidence in his tone and your eyes slightly widened at the boldness of his words.

You should refuse.

you both could get caught.

Your team and HIS team were still around.

“I…auh.” You started as you too looked around, whatever it was that had attacked had seemed to leave, your research team seemed focused on other matters. Perhaps your dead coworker.

You shouldn't, you should join them.

But your eyes found back to the soldier and your head moved on its own accord, nodding towards him.

You watched as his arm flexed as it moved towards you, a finger lifting your face up to look up at him.

“Need your words Dr. y/n.” He spoke sharply and fuck you were going to hell for the way your body trembled ny them.

“Yes…I want your medical attention.” You spoke up to him, consenting to the temptations he was offering you.

The cure to your schocken state.

And you were going to hell for it.

He had led you inside of the truck, its dark tinted windows keeping it unknown you were both entering it. His hands move quickly, finding their way onto your body and moving to slide up your work shirt. The wetness of the shirt was not bothering as it exposed your stomach chest to the man. One of his knees finding place between your legs as he guides you to lay down on the seats of the truck.

You shivered under his calloused hands and groaned when he pressed his knee into your groin.

How pathetic you felt to already be so hard after just a few touches.

Yet the soldier did not chastise you as his lips found their way against your neck, moving down like his hands were on your chest, finger pads dancing on your nipples making a noise leave your throat.

A sharp intake of air had his hands gliding down to your pants. The trail of his lips reaching your collar bone before his teeth slightly dug into your skin making a moan leave you. Your eyes fluttering shut before they fluttered open as his movements stopped, his lips leaving your collarbone and your eyes meeting with his golden ones.

“Names Ja by the way.” He mutters out to you before he moved to press his lips harshly against yours making you shudder under him your hands find their way to his clothed chest, fingers curling around drenched fabric and twisting as you let out a whine as you bundled up the shirt in need to take it off. You felt the chuckle he let out vibrate on your lips as he broke the kiss and sat up on his knees before taking off his shirt exposing that chiseled chest of his, and perky pierced nipples of his to you.

and fuck wasnt he a pretty sight to behold.

A boldness fulling you as you moved up supporting yourself with your hands reaching behind you as you brought your lips around one of his nipples lightly suckking on it and swirling your tongue around it. You heard a hiss withdraw from him before rough fingers found way into your hair in a tight grip as he pulled your head closer to his chest smashing your face into his peck.

His knee moved to spread your legs apart more before his pelvis took in its place.

You let out a moan around his nipple as he began to grind his hard on against your own.

The friction between the both of you was glorious, and while his pants held back a lot of him, you could clearly tell he wasn't small by any means making you nearly drool around his nipple.

Your head was yanked back by your hair before his lips found place against your puffy lines, his tongue diving into your mouth curling and coiling around yours like a snake.

His grinding stops for a moment making a pitiful sound leaving you but the feeling of his hands fighting against your pants button making your dick throb heavily with more excitement.

He yanked down your pants and underwear to your mid thigh freeing your dick from its confinements and you were only temporarily exposed to chilled air before his heat filled hand found its way around the exposed appendage. You let a shuttering gasp into his mouth as his hand began to pump around your dick, slowly dragging upwards before quickly jerking down pressing into your swelling balls making you whine and try to buck into his hand. His other hand finding way to your hip where he squeezed your hip bone tightly pressing your pelvis back down holding you in place refusing you any moment to thrust and buck into his hand as he dragged it back up against every vein and ridge to the tip where he gentle twisted his hand around it making you mewl into his mouth before mufflung crying as his hand would jerk back down to the base of your shaft. He would repeat this seeming not to care if he brought you ecstasy and torment for more with each hand movement, each squeeze and twist of his hand.

Your stomach clenching as a burning began to form with each pump of his hand, his lips leaving yours to attack your neck moving down to your collarbone ones again his lips encasing around it and sucking forcing blood to pool and burst under your skin before he moved down to the top of your chest to your perking nipple before encasing it with his lips and tongue.

Your gasps and moans only encourage him downwards, his teeth nipping at your bottom rib causing a sharp take of air from you before he licked down to your pubis.

His tongue left your skin only to feel his hand glide down to the base of your twitching dick.

The heat of his breath tickled your tip for a second before the heat of his mouth and silvia was gliding down.

“Fuck!” You brokenly cried out your hands scrambling to hold something, knocking his cap back from him as your hands found slicked back curls.

So he did have hair…

Your guilt grew for a second before you felt his throat constrict around your dick making you choke.

Guilt forgotten quickly as he began to bob his head, his lips gliding against your dick like a sin. Tongue cupping and swirling against every vein and ridge, swirling at the tip as he raised his head upwards only to force it down and the tip of your self pressing into the back of his throat.

You cried out as your nails dug into the skin of his head.

His hands moving to your thighs holding them tightly as he moved them to halfass be on either side of his head your jeans pressing into his throat as he buried his face into your pelvis.

Your cries being a mantra of melodies to the incubus that was determined to drain you as his head bobbed more quickly. His nails digging into your thighs finally allow you the freedom to buck and thrust into his mouth. Your fingers were losing color due to how hard you were clawing at his skull as you thrusted into his throat, the sound of his choking had worried you and you tried pulling away only to feel his hand move to your hip and pull your pelvis up forcing you deeper into his throat.

You let out a groan before you move your hips thrusting back into his mouth, finding a rhythm that sent you beyond any heaven, his choking noises soon joined with vibrations on your dick that made your hips jerk and tremble. His throat constriction as broken purrs made way to your ears making you whine as your hips jerked off patterned.

Dick throbbing and twitching as the tension in your lower abdomen bursting like a bullet from a barrel of a gun.

Your cum shooting down into his throat his only warning was the high pitched whine you let out a second before, You had expected him to jerk away, refusing such luxury.

But Ja had not. Instead he fully sunk your dick down his throat and you felt every muscle in his throat flex and move around you as he swallowed your load with nothing but grace.

You were a panting mess as you felt his mouth and tongue glide off of your over sensitive and twitching dick, your vision spotty but met with the brightest gold you ever seen.

His eyes brighter than the sun as his lips pulled into a smirk showing off those perfect white k-9s as his tongue swiped the bottom of his lip licking away your cum that had dared escape the incubus in front of you.

“I assist you well now.” He speaks cockiness in his tone as his eyes move over your body in pride.

You sputtered for words as you watched him grab his drench shirt sliding it back on and fitting his cap back on as he opened the door of the truck sliding out his body blocking the view of your half naked body as he eyed you.

Your eyes eyeing him and wandering down to the bulge in his pants, drool puddling in your mouth as you could have swore you saw it twitch under your gaze. A chuckle made you look back at him with wide wanting lustful eyes.

“Back on base you can assist me, right Dr. Y/n.” His voice had a teasing bite and a quick fart of your eyes had you nodding profusely.

Watching at how Ja smirked widely before he nodded, tipping his hat before he stepped back and shut the truck door leaving you alone panting in the scent of foreplay heavy in the truck.

You brought your hands to your face, rubbing it before quickly snatching your pants back up trying to get adjusted and get out of the truck before you caught a mess. As you tried not to let shame fill you as you finally regrouped with the surviving lot of your coworkers your head was on the upcoming scenario of you giving “medical assistance” to the recom soldier in the cap.

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 12

Masterlist

This is the new part of my TopGun fic. You can once again skip this part, if you don't like steamy filthy smut. There's no important plot, so you can wait for the next chapter. No problem!

MINORS DNI!!! This is pure smut!

Summary: The three have a steamy time in the shower. No plot, just smut!

Trigger warnings: pure smut! 18+, minors DNI! piv (wrap it before you tap it! this is fiction), some dirty talk

Word count: 2.2k +

A/N: Please let me know if my choice of words is wrong or embarassing, English is not my first language and this is my second smut writing and I want to encrease my writing constantly. Thanks for all the support!

Strong arms are enveloping y/n from behind. In the past it would have made her flinch, a man hovering above her always meant incoming pain or at least a threat. But nowadays it makes her whole body fill with a warmth, lets her shiver, pure tender electricity is spreading through her body.

“What are you doing, cupcake?” Jake graces the shell of her ear as he lowers his head to softly kiss her neck. His plump lips on her delicate neck make moan and wiggle in his arms.

“Jakey, it’s my turn to cook dinner for us, so hop under the shower, you’re smelling like jet fuel and sweat.” Y/n turns around and looks up at the blonde aviator who is still in his flying suit. To see her boyfriends in their flying suits or in their uniforms is always a sight for sore eyes. She absolutely adores them in their work attire.

“We thought you could join us in the shower. Let’s order some food later…” Jake hoists her up as if she weights nothing and sits the squealing woman on the kitchen counter. He opens her legs as wide as he can with her still wearing her pencil skirt. With a firm grip he grabs her delicate hips and nuzzles his head in the crook of her neck, softly sucking on her sensitive spot above her collarbone.

“Rooster is already waiting in the shower to get it warm for our girl.” He tells her between kisses and soft love bites.

“Two naked aviators all wet and soapy? Show me the way Lieutenant Commander Seresin.”

Her answer makes him grin devilishly. “That’s the answer I needed to hear. But first let’s get rid of this skirt and blouse of yours. As much as I like to see you in this sexy pencil skirt and the blouse, we need you naked…”

---

The shower spray feels like a warm blanket on her skin. She can’t help but let out a small whimper as she feels strong hands massaging the flowery shampoo into her hair, short nails scraping over her head occasionally. She buries her head into the warm and wet chest of the brunette aviator in front of her when Jake starts to wash out the foam which surrounded her silky hair. To be in the shower with both her boyfriends feels so intimate, the vulnerability of being naked wet and huddled into the space of the shower isn’t as intimidate as she feared. She feels so safe with Jake and Bradley.

Y/n starts stroking Bradley’s abs up and down and places soft kisses on his muscular chest. His heartrate picks up as the touch of her small hands nearing his already hard member. Behind the smaller woman Jake completes his task to wash his girlfriend’s hair. His hand now wandering down her neck and further down to the swell of her breasts. When his strong hands stroke over her sensitive nipples she shudders and buries her head once more into Bradley’s chest.

“Are you cold, baby?” Jake whispers into her ear “Should we make the water warmer?”

She can’t form a coherent sentence right now, the feeling of both aviators touching her naked and wet body almost too much for her. She looks up at Bradley when she lets her hands wander further down to cup his big cock, giving him a stroke with her hands. To steady himself he reaches out and grabs Jake’s shoulders and hisses as y/n starts to fist him a bit tighter. The blonde aviator enjoys the play of his partners in front of him. He’s still intrigued with their whole situation. He and Rooster love the same girl, not only sharing a house but sharing a bed, sharing the same love for this gorgeous woman in front of him. And still he doesn’t feel a whiff of jealousy, not even now when both of them are making out heavily. Actually watching the two is making his heart swell even more, well not only his heart. He’s just as hard as Rooster, nearly painfully hard and heavily aroused watching the small woman stroking Rooster’s remarkable cock. The same cock he tasted days ago.

After giving y/n’s nipples one last pinch he lets his hands wander down further. Her body is so warm because of the hot water of the shower. He needs to feel her, wants to feel her clenching on his fingers, hear her whimper when he strokes her sensitive clit. Jake presses his chest flush to the woman’s back to get better access to her sweet folds.

“Can I make you feel good, sweet girl? Can I get you ready for Bradley? I think he wants to feel you today, your tightness…” She leans her head on the broad chest behind her and closes her eyes as she feels Jake’s fingers stroking over her aroused folds. Her heart nearly stops when she suddenly feels Bradley’s mouth sucking her right nipple, his mustache scraping over her breast sends electricity through her body.

“You’re already so wet, baby.” The blonde aviator whispers into the woman’s ear as he teases her wet entrance. Without warning he inserts two fingers into y/n’s tight pussy. Her knees buckle at the intense feeling. Fortunately his other arm has a strong hold on her upper body and prevents her from tumbling down. To steady herself y/n reaches out and grabs the bulging biceps of the man in front of her, her nails digging into his flesh. Bradley enjoys the view of Jake fingering their girlfriend. With her eyes still closed she clearly savors the feeling of the blonde aviator’s fingers inside her.

“Jaaake…” Y/n shouts, her voice echoing in the big master bathroom. Jake takes her cry of pleasure as a confirmation to go a bit faster, his pointer and middle finger stretching her tight entrance further his thumb slowly rubbing circles over her swollen clit.

“You want to feel Bradley’s cock inside of you, baby? Look at him, how he enjoys your sexy view. Open your eyes, baby. Let him see your beautiful eyes.”

Y/n opens her eyes to see the brunette aviator pumping his raging cock, looking directly into her eyes. He bends down and captures her upper lip, softly sucking and biting it before his tongue requests entrance. They kiss grows passionately as Jake’s fingers still plunging into her soft folds, hitting her G-Spot occasionally. He feels her tighten and clenching around his fingers but before she has the chance to come on his digits he stops his actions. She was so close but he stops, her eyes fly open, her ass bumping into his crotch out of frustration.

“Nah nah nah, baby. I want you to come on Rooster’s cock. You ready to feel him?” Jake teasingly says, clearly pleased with y/n’s desperate reaction.

“Please, Bradley. I need you…” She grabs his cock in a firm painful hold, showing him how badly she needs him right now.

“So needy our girl. Come on, princess. Let me feel you. Want to feel how wet you are for me.” Bradly cups her ass with his hands and gives her the go to jump up on him. Jake supports her from behind and helps the smaller woman to hop onto the taller aviator in front of her. She locks her legs around Rooster’s hips, feeling his hard cock poking her lower belly. When he’s sure that she’s not in danger to fall down, he releases one hand from under her bum and grabs his big cock and slowly rubs the head up and down y/n’s aroused sex. She starts to rock back and forth, desperate to feel his member inside of her.

“Easy girl. We don’t want you to get hurt.” Jake tries to calm her down when he tightens his grip on her hips to steady her a bit more, afraid she would fall down with her rocking.

Bradley teases her entrance with the swollen head of his member and turns them both around so that her back is now at one of the tiled shower walls. When the cold tiles touch her back she lets out a squeal which turns instantly into a long moan when Bradley finally sinks into her. He gives her some time to adjust to his size. Her head falls onto his shoulder her mouth agape when small whimpers leaving her wet lips.

Jake takes a step forward to be nearer to his both partners, his painfully hard cock in one of his hands.

“Bradley, more. Please more.” She instructs between moans and whimpers. She wants to feel him completely inside her, like she felt Jake days ago. Rooster tightens his grip on her hips once more as he lets himself sink deeper into the woman in front of him. His eyes squeeze shut unable to hold the whine that leaves his throat. Warm water runs down his muscular back but all he can feel is the sensation of y/n clenching around his member. She feels so warm and tight and her small moans are driving him wild. He starts to thrust in a slow and steady rhythm, feeling Jake beside him stroking his back. Y/n’s legs tighten around him as he finds the right angle to thrust into her.

“You’re so big. Oh my God, please Bradley right there.” Y/n sputters as the brunette aviator hits the sensitive spot inside her. The cold tiles on her back with the warm water coming out of the shower head and the strong thrusts from Bradley are creating a mixture of explosive feelings. Her body starts to shudder and she gently bites into Bradley’s shoulder.

Jake sneaks one hand between both his partners and starts to fondle with y/n’s breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples with his fingers. His other hand furiously fisting his cock.

“Fuck y/n. You’re taking me so good. Oh Jesus…” Bradley picks up the pace, the sight of the young woman so aroused and nearly able to speak and his partner beside him stroking his cock and playing with the young woman’s sensitive nipples makes him feral.

“You look so sexy, y/n. I want so see you come, I want to see both of you come. Come for me.” Jake moans as his hand release y/n’s nipples, just to wander further down to touch her sensitive clit.

Her moans growing louder and she tries to bounce faster on Bradley’s cock. Over and over he hits her sweet spot, chasing his own orgasm relentlessly, but restrains himself a bit more. He wants to come with her, feeling her clenching on his cock, milking him while she shatters from her orgasm.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop Bradley.” Y/n shouts as she feels her own orgasm not too far away. Her back arches away from the cold tiles when she starts to shudder. Her hips buck at the sensation of Bradley’s huge member inside of her and Jake’s hand circling her clit. She feels so full and stimulated. Bradley feels her clenching on him more, biting his shoulder so hard he’s sure it will leave a mark. But he doesn’t care, the only thing he wants is to make their girl feel good.

Y/n sees stars she feels the tight knot in her stomach exploding. Her vision grows white when the earth shattering orgasm hits her. She feels Bradley pumping into her, feeling his member switch his whole body shuddering but never loosen his grip on her hips. Jake comes with them, hitting Bradley’s thigh with his hot cum. He stops the gente circling around y/n’s clit as to not overstimulate her further.

Bradley nearly can’t catch his breath as he slowly comes down from his high. His heart is beating so fast in his chest like if he had run a marathon.  He feels the body of the woman in his arms go limp and with the help of Jake he sets her down on her feet. Her knees buckle and he cradles her small shaking body in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

Jake turns off the water which is already cold by now and hurries out of the shower to get towels for him and his partners but especially for y/n who seems to be out of it once more.

When he comes back, having a big fluffy towel in store, he sees his partner still cradling and holding up the limp body of the smaller woman.

“Let’s wrap her up in the towel and lay her down in your bed.” Bradley suggests a bit concerned that she once again is not really responsive.

---

Y/n’s eyes slowly flutter open as she feels herself being carried out of the bathroom. “Roo-y?”

“Hey, princess. You’re okay. Let’s rest a bit in Jakey’s bed okay? You fainted on us again.”

Bradley gently places her body on the soft mattress of the blonde pilot’s bed. When she feels the mattress dips beside her she instantly snuggles into the man laying down next to her.

“That’s so embarrassing. I’m sorry…” She hides her face in Bradley’s chest.

“Hey, look at me.” He tilts her head to look her in the eyes. “That’s not embarrassing. We’re just concerned when you pass out on us. Maybe we’re too eager, too intense or rough with you, I don’t know…”

“No, please… It was so earth shattering, so good like the first time. You two make me feel so good. Please never stop to make feel this way…” Y/n kisses the brunette pilot to make sure he knows how good she feels after having sex with them.

@djs8891

@megalony

@darksparklesficrecs

[tigertan]

neighborly favors and chicago cigarettes. [ jellybeans. ]

part two of said slow burn fic ^_^ this is mainly a snippet but there is some silly smut incoming in the full chapter oooops ..

part one [ mac n cheese ]

ao3 link

[ word count ; 1k ]

;; all fluff. awkward meeting again. carmen takes a strange interest in your nails.

your new acrylic nails gleamed in the cold sun of chicago’s morning as they curled around your steering wheel. a pretty candy pink, nothing fancy. they were short and blunt to maximize efficiency, and you’d always liked doing your nails. 

with your new job starting tomorrow, you arranged a nail appointment early this sunday morning just to get it out of the way. 

you rounded the corner of the apartment building's back parking lot and hopped out of your car into the complex. 

despite your freshly scrubbed face and still damp hair from the morning shower, yesterday night’s chicago smoke lingered both on your skin and your memories. the mild hangover you’d gotten was bravely fought off with a fistful of tylenol and gallons of water.  

after finally finding something in common with carmy, sydney rushed out and began apologizing for richie’s behavior, to which you’d reassured her it wasn’t a big deal. you’d just avoid him your entire life after that. because while you weren’t in the wrong, it was an embarrassingly public outburst that burned itself into those moments your brain would never let you forget. 

sydney decided to take you home at that moment, and you didn’t complain. 

you nodded a bye to carmy with a smile still stuck with a cigarette and he’d nodded back, unsmiling.

it was only after you’d wrapped the covers around you did you realize you never asked him if his name was really carmy. 

oh well, you guys were neighbors. you were bound to see him anyway. 

you hummed a song to yourself— specifically frank sinatra’s classic hit, rain in my heart— as you climbed up the stairs and turned the staircase straight into a brick wall. 

but that couldn’t be right, because why did it stumble back at the impact at the same time you did? 

the answer was easy; it wasn’t a wall. it was the tightly fitted cotton-shirted chest/face of your neighbor carmy. his awful brown jacket was thrown across his right bicep, and you could see his tattoos much more clearly. the numbers on his fingers weren't numbers, they were three letters of ‘SOU’ on his index, middle, and ring respectively. 

there was also an inked flower on the back of the same hand, and further up his arm was a measuring cup carrying a globe. you noticed he had more but stepped back too quickly to discern others. 

your nose stings lightly at the impact, and you raise a hand to hold it, eyes widening. a tiny part of you wonders if he is going to yell at you. 

“shit,” you say, blinking. 

“sorry, i didn’t see you,” 

“are you okay— sorry,” 

you both spoke at the same time, which pushed a smile out your lips, and you giggled. so he wasn’t going to yell at you.

“sorry,” you whisper, a grin peeking out from either side of the hand in front of your face. he blinks, the chicago morning sky making his already ice-blue eyes seem ever clearer. 

“you uh— your nails,” he blurted, a muscle in his temple shifting as the words nearly burst from his lips. 

it takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about, but you lower your hand and splay it out, the uv coat catching the light perfectly. 

“oh! yes. nails. got 'em done a few minutes ago.” you explain, giving him another quick smile. “they uh, they’re nice. like jellybeans.” but the compliment, if you could even call it that, was stamped out with deliberate volume and a strained edge of a rather inept tone that creased your brow despite your smile. 

“... thank you,” you reply, absentmindedly running your thumb over the groove of the keys in your pocket. 

he watches your hand fall back beside you and then swallows. 

“do you like—“

“is your—“ 

your voices overlapped once more, and this time he smiled too, curving into his left cheek and carmy released a singular, airy laugh. 

“sorry. uh. you go ahead,” he gestured to you, flicking his eye contact from you to the floor. “yeah, sorry.” you grinned with genuine humor now, “is your, is your real name carmy? sorry, i just heard syd say that last night and i just…” you trailed off, the question sounding dumb and cold on your tongue now that you said it aloud. he blinked again. “uh. no— no. it’s a nickname. for– for carmen. carmen berzatto.” 

he extends his hand out as if you had guys met for the first time. finding it endearing, you take it, a gel-nailed hand clasping the weathered, inked one. 

“were you heading to work?” you ask, and after a momentary silence, he nods, then scrunches his brows and quickly shakes it, the oat-colored curls on his head bouncing. 

“hm? no, just… heading out. kitchen doesn’t open until four today,” he replies, carding a hand through his hair. 

you mouth a silent oh and nod back. 

“well uh, it was good to see you neighbor,” you grin and step the side lightly, breaking the awkward yet giddy conversation that had transpired. 

“yeah. yeah, you too.” carmen gave you a half-smile back, nodding a final time as he passed by you, his hair bouncing as he walked down the stairs, not looking back. 

you did, however, watch until his curls disappeared behind the coffee wood and industrial metal of the stairs. 

you realized you didn’t ask him what he wanted to ask until you’d slotted your key into the lock with a smile. 

—

carmen slammed his car door behind him as he sat, cushioned in the faux leather seat, hands firm on the steering wheel. he stared directly in front of him, boring holes into the dusty red brick of the building wall, sky tinted a slight grey from the windows. 

“jellybeans? really carmen?” he sighs-slash-scoffs, running a hand over his face before fumbling his keys out of the jacket pocket. brows scrunching, the man hesitates before putting the keys into the ignition. despite the faint alarm bells going off in his mind— they seemed to always be there anyway— he twists in the front seat to look behind him at the building entrance as if she’d walk out of the large, heavy-duty door at that moment. 

for a moment or two, he stares. but the reality of it catches up to him in flushed, heated cheeks and brows creasing further. “fuckin’ stupid.” he mutters, finally shoving the keys into the car as the engine purred to life. it was odd how the light from yesterday’s cigarette had bent around her mouth despite the unforgiving fluorescence of the alleyway, and made carmen stare. 

but that’s all. she was only enough to stare at, he concluded with a steely grip on the wheel. with the bear at its peak, how could he do anything but stare? 

he pulls into the back of the bear’s parking lot with the recipe for a spaghetti alla carbonara stuck in his head and a smile stuck in the corner of his mouth. 

—

for more / updates check out the ao3 !

[amazon160]

THE SPOT X READER

FLUFF SNIPPETS (PT 1)

When I say I want some Jonathon Ohnn/Spot x Reader fics, I’m not talking about the smut headcanons. No…

I’m talking about-

-You walked out of Alchemax after a long shift, and to your dread, it was pouring outside.

You shuffled in your jeans and fitted polo shirt, lab coat stuffed safely into your bag. You felt a tap on your shoulder. “Do you need a ride home?” Dr. Ohnn approached you from behind. You gave him a modest “no”, but after he insisted even further, you couldn’t decline any further. You sat in the passengers seat of a rather empty van, the only items being paperwork and other research stuffed onto the back seat with a briefcase looking thing keeping them all down. Jonathon laid his arm back behind your seats, resting behind your head, and you tried to hide the incoming blush on your cheeks.

-You and Spot walked down the busy streets of New York on a bright, sunny day. You wore a t-shirt with some sort of pun on it (your choice lol) and jean shorts. Spot was next to you with, well, clothes. For a change, not because he needed a disguise, but because he was feeling more accustomed to himself. It was your greatest achievement by far, making him feel more at home with himself. He had a pair of cargo shorts and a goofy Science pun t-shirt and a zip up sweater. He stuck one hand into the pocket while the other swished back and forth to dramatize his rant about Quantum Physics. You took the closest hand to you, which was in his pocket, and intertwined his fingers with yours.

-You sat in the passenger seat of Jonathon’s van watching a movie on the big projector’s screen. You both thought it’d be cute to go to one of those drive in movies they had down the street. They showed “Meet The Robinson’s”. Every time Lewis showed up on screen with his inventions in the beginning, you giggled. One time, you dared to look over at Jonathon, who was starting to grin from hearing your laugh over and over again. “What?” He asked. “He reminds me of you.” You pointed at the screen when Lewis was back on screen. “The small blonde kid? How?” Jonathon was taken back by your comment and started to laugh along with you, even. “You’re both nerds.” You giggled again at the disappointed face Jon made. You leaned over to the side until your head rested on Jon’s shoulder. He let his head slide over to rest on top of yours, guiding his hand to yours to rest as well. “I wouldn’t get too salty over it,” you reassured him. You rotated your head a bit to face Jon. He was giving you an amused look. “Your nerdy-ness is what makes you so CUTE.” You gave a quick kiss on the lips and settled back into your position resting on Jon’s shoulder, where you’d eventually end up falling asleep half way through the movie.

[deepdisireslonging]

Two More

Another PPV is done, but the Reader’s and Kenny’s relaxing time keeps being interrupted. The Reader thinks up a way to distract him from work.

Pairing: Kenny Omega x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings/Promises: fluff, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging, overstimulation, Kenny being a giver to a fault

Word Count: 1900

Note: Another song-fic for the Summer Playlist! Don’t know why this one took me so long to work out the smut, but now I am super happy with how it came out. Let me know how you liked it with comments and reblogs. Happy reading!

“Notice” by Little Mix

With a huff, you sank back into the couch. Kenny winced and answered the fifth call of the afternoon. While the day had been lovely, it was full of wrestling business. Not a single minute for either of you to catch your breath, much less relax. And now that you were home, the business had followed him. 

“Two minutes,” he whispered to you. To the caller he noted, ‘it’s not a long one, but I’ve got a minute.” He listened for a bit, then his shoulders slumped. “Mr. Khan, is there anyway we can go over details tomorrow? Besides, didn’t we go over them enough today at- yes. A few plot holes, but-“ With an apologetic look, he slipped out onto the back porch. 

You listened to the one-sided conversation through the screen door. Being married to athletic and creative brilliance had its shortcomings, for sure. But you always had a way of bringing you both back to a calm center. 

While he was on the balcony, you sliced cucumbers and put them in water for a refreshing drink later. You made sure the travel clothes made it at least to the laundry room; the floor counted, right? And you went ahead and laid out some games you could play together on the coffee table. When Kenny came back in with the weight of AEW on his shoulders, you handed him the refreshing glass and sat him in front of the gaming system. 

“You’ve been busy. What happened to relaxing?” He smiled as you handed him a controller. 

“It's hard to relax if I know you’re up to your eyeballs in Khan’s strategizing. C’mon.” You bumped your shoulders together. “Let’s unwind for a little bit.” 

It didn’t take long for the ’easy’ game to turn heated. Just when you were finally getting the upper hand, Kenny’s phone rang again. He paused the game.

“Hey-“

“Two minutes.”

“Fine.” Again, you slumped against the couch as he walked out of the room. Earlier when you had arrived, Kenny had cranked up the AC to get the air circulating. Now the temperature had evened out and you were no longer freezing. You shed your jacket. And caught an idea. If this afternoon continued in the morning's pattern, Kenny would need something to drive him to distraction until the phone calls stopped. 

Your husband came back in with one of the most apologetic faces you’d seen. “Sorry about that. Matt and Nick needed-“

“Don’t worry about it. Now sit down so I can finish kicking your ass!”

The pause was too much for you to regain your momentum that round. No worries. You had a better enterprise in mind. It became more tantalizing with each incoming call. At first, Kenny didn’t notice. It wasn’t unusual for you to lounge about in a tank top and your shorts. But when he saw your clothes piling up, his brow would scrunch, trying to figure out your plan. But you would drag him back into the game, or another call would drag him back out. 

Impatience set in. 

“That’s the last one,” he said, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “I promise-“ 

You sat calm as a church mouse as his mouth dropped. While waiting for him in the nude had technically been a few more calls away, you didn’t want to wait that long. 

“What’s wrong baby?” You crooned. Tugging your knees up, you covered your chest. “Are you tired of video games? Would you like to do something… else?”

His head was nodding before he managed words. “Y-yes. No more video games. Uh- did you have something in mind?”

“Mhmm.” You didn’t bother with grace or sha-shaying. Kenny followed you like a parched man to a fresh, cool spring. The bed hit the back of your legs when you turned. His eyes fought to watch your eyes or… everything else. “See something you like?” 

As you sat down, leaning back on your arms to arch out your chest, Kenny’s breath stuttered. “Oh yes. I’m trying to figure out where to start.”

He was just beginning to lean over you when his phone began to ring again. With a hiss, he buried his head into the crook of your neck. You tried to hold him there, but he quickly untangled your fingers from his hair. 

“Boy, you have seriously lost your focus.”

Holding up the screen, Kenny’s earlier delight evaporated. “It’s one of the TNT producers. I can’t-“

“They can leave a message and call Khan instead.” You spread your legs, showing off what you knew would break him. “So, are you going to answer the phone or come fuck me?”

Kenny looked between you and the phone once. He chose correctly and tossed the phone into the living room, slamming the door shut. Then he pounced on you. Here was your passionate lover. 

As he kissed from one shoulder to the next across your collarbone, you purred and dug your fingers into his hair. You helped guide him down to travel from one side of your chest to the other. All the while you softly asked him, “what do you need, baby? Do you want to get behind it? Flip me over and recline us? Undress me just the way you like it?” 

“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” His forceful kisses pushed you back onto the mattress. “I knew what you were doing. Tried to resist. But I can never resist you. Especially when you play games like this.”

You laughed, “I know you always see through my tricks. But what’s the fun of wearing nothing if you never notice? Had to get you away somehow.”

“I’m glad you did.” Kenny stopped ravishing you with kisses long enough to take a long look at your face. Beaming. Waiting for his next move. He loved that you could match his energy in the ring and in production, and that you knew just what he needed to revive him. He lightly gripped your chin, guiding you close for a slow, sensual thank you. “What would I do without you?”

“Be a nervous wreck?” You touched your foreheads together. “Stop thinking about today. Open challenge, right here. Take me, baby. Don’t make me wait-“

He silenced you with a sucking kiss to the hollow of your throat. While your fingers re-curled into his hair, his hips thrust at the edge of the bed between your legs. You tried to drag him up so those thrusts would pass to you, but he began to kiss down your body instead. He nuzzled your stomach on the way down, trailing his fingers down to your undulating hips. His lips murmured things against your skin that you couldn’t hear. But it made your arousal buzz all the same. He continued moving down, around where you wanted him. Nipping at your skin, then tugging your legs further apart just so he could kiss your inner thighs.

You whined and tried to roll your heat into his face.

Kenny tutted at you. “I thought you were trying to help me? If I wanted you to sit on my face, you’d be there already.” He glanced up at you, barely visible over your stomach with how low he was kneeling. “But today has been stressful for you too, huh?” It startled you when his fingers gently smoothed over your sex. “And we both know that helping you will help me too.”

Again, you whined. For such an impatient man, he picked the worst moments to take his time. Your mutual impatience was why you worked so well together. “Kenny, please! Just fuck-“

He cupped his palm under you, teasing with one finger. After only a few passes, his finger was squelching in your slick. He watched, enraptured, when he added a second next to the first. Together they curled, scissored, and made you quake and shiver. He glanced over at your hands, watching them helplessly claw at the sheets. When your toes began to curl, he pulled back. Kenny chuckled at your cry of dismay. Resting his chin on his hands on your lower stomach, he waited for your breathing to even out. Then he took his low position again.

“You’ve been edging me with all the calls already,” you panted, “please, baby-“

He kissed over your mound. “Had to get one in. Make sure you were ready for me.”

“As if I’m not ready for you every second of the day?”

With an agreeing grunt, Kenny dove in to eating you out. His arms wrapped tight around your thighs to hold you in place as you arched. As you screamed. As you pleaded. And as your body wriggled, trying to move your sex impossibly close to his face. But he was a master at swallowing you down to your soul, he liked to joke.

“Gonna give it to me, baby?” he asked between noisy slurps. “Gonna flood my mouth? Come on. I thought you issued me a challenge.”

You tried to hold off. You really did. But then he began to suck hard in that way and- you fell apart on his tongue. Kenny rushed to drink every drop. It set a chill zinging across your skin.

The shivering that overtook your body wasn’t just from the impending orgasm. It heightened as Kenny crawled over your body before settling himself between your legs.

His eyes gleamed. “I should reward you for every call you had to wait through.”

You shook your head. There was no way you’d survive that many. And you warned as much.

Kenny leaned down to press his forehead against your feverish one. “Perhaps. But you were so patient. Can you at least give me two more?”

As you gasped with the sensation, he slowly worked his length into your heat. His mouth fell open, lax against your cheek. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck. But when you tried to roll your hips, he didn’t start. Instead, his hands spread wide against your chest. One to the next, he toyed with your nipples. Squeezed and kneaded your flesh. Pinched and massaged. Thrusting only when your whines caught him off guard. But as your need amplified, and your voice caught in your throat, Kenny’s thrusts became erratic. Your body quaked with one release. Kenny stilled, reveling in how you clamped down on him.

He waited for your breathing to even. Then he began to thrust in earnest. You cried out his name, gripping his shoulders. Did you want him to stop and give you a break? Or did you want him to keep going? He felt so good. Between whimpers of delight, you hummed similar pleasantries into his skin. How well he filled you up. To keep going, right there. How only he could make you shake like that. Could he feel how desperate you were to cum?

Your voice cracked under the pleasure. He kissed you deeply, stealing air out of your breathless lungs. As you came, your nails clawed down his back. With a shout that filled your mouth, he spilt into you.

After few panting minutes, he gingerly rotated until he was on his back, with you on top and securely hugged to his chest. He held you, matching your racing heartbeats with his. With a wisp of a laugh, he smiled against your forehead. You whimpered, exhausted and terrified, as he dragged you over his upper chest. With the crook of his finger, he brought you to hover over his face.

“Two more.”

***

***

Masterlist 

Other Kenny Fics: 

Troublemaker (Smut)

Breathless Brat (Smut, Ficlet)

A Cumedy of Errors (Crack!Fic, Smut, Fluff)

[leapingbadger]

Entangled - Chapter 1 - The Mission

Here it is! the first chapter of my Fennter fic. I really hope you enjoy it; I had a blast writing it. I don't know how frequently I'll be adding chapters, but the story is complete so likely pretty frequently.

Rating: T

Please note: this isn't smut (because honestly, I have no idea how to write that convincingly) so if you're looking for that I'm sorry in advance to disappoint. However, there is a little suggestive content in the final chapter. The violence depicted is a little darker than what's in the show and there are a few morally ambiguous torture adjacent moments. If you think I should change the ratings, just let me know.

***

Hunter sat on the couch in the common room of his house on Pabu. The blue light from the comm was the only light in the dark room. It was a rare quiet, solitary evening until the comm lit up with an incoming transmission.

Hunter smiled as he recognized the pale face and amber eyes of his brother, Echo looking back at him.

“It’s been a long time. Was starting to think you forgot about us,” he said.

Echo had the common sense to look sheepish as he made his excuses. Hunter waved off his comments. He knew Echo had more pressing things to concern himself with of late. It didn’t stop Hunter from missing him though.

“Where are the others?” Echo asked, peeking around as if Hunter was hiding Omega, Wrecker and Crosshair behind him.

“They’re at the crest. There’s an arts and craft show, and Crosshair’s been selling some of his paintings.”

Echo raised his eyebrows, “Well, you’ll have to tell them I say hi when they get back.”

Hunter nodded, “So, how’s everything going?” he asked,

“Eh, you know it’s not easy work but we’re slowly finding more brothers to join the cause. Emery’s been helpful, able to counteract some of the conditioning. We’re basically a chip removal service at this point.”

Hunter laughed, “You’re being careful though, right?” he said, concern in his voice. `

Echo laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, as careful as I always am.” He said with a chuckle. “Besides, I was only in imperial custody for a couple of…”

“Imperial custody? Echo!”

“It was a tiny occupation in the outer rim, Hunter. They thought I was a droid. Put a restraining bolt on me and everything. I’m sure it won’t get back to Coruscant.”

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and felt the familiar looming headache that was associated with one of his brother’s reckless antics. It was just unusual that Echo was the offending brother.

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

Echo looked shifty, like he was searching aimlessly for the right words.

“Even if I did, Hunter, you don’t have ship. You wouldn’t have been able to get to me in time. But I made it out.”

The words stung even if Hunter knew he was right. Since the Marauder was blown up, they had to rely solely on Rex, Echo or Phee for transportation. Shuttles arrived from neighboring planets occasionally but not frequently enough to be of any use.

“You’re right.” He said glumly.

“Have you had any luck finding a replacement?”

“We’re a little short of credits right now. Can’t exactly barter for it like we do everything else.”

Echo nodded, “what about the salvage? Can you piece something together?”

“Not if we want it to fly,” Hunter said morosely. “Got any suggestions in how we can make some money?”

“Crosshair’s paintings?” Echo said with a smile.

Hunter scowled at him. Not because Crosshair wasn’t talented, but Pabu functioned mostly on a bartering system. Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair had managed to precure food, furnishings and clothes by doing odd jobs around the village. Wrecker had a permanent job at the docs but that didn’t pay in credits.

Echo sighed and looked guilty, “look, I wasn’t going to mention it, but Rex had a call with a contact the other day. Wanted to see if you would help with a bounty. Sounded like it could be a big score, but I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Why’s that?” Hunter asked, already dreading the answer.

“It’s who the job’s for. You would certainly make a lot of credits quickly.” He said, “But you’re not gunna like it.”

***

“You can’t be serious,” Wrecker said over dinner that night.

Hunter shrugged and reached for another piece of bread, “it’s a means to make some credits, quickly. We can’t afford a ship any other way.”

“Why do we need a ship at all?” Wrecker said, shoving more fish in his mouth and reaching for another piece. “We’re staying here, right? There’s a shuttle if we need to go off world.”

“And what if the empire comes? or Echo needs us? We’re sitting porgs here if we don’t have a way to get off this planet quickly.”

“Plus, I could practice flying.” Omega piped in hopefully. “I never got to finish my lessons.”

Hunter flinched slightly at her words and the implication that Tech’s death was the reason her lessons had stopped.

“You seem pretty good to me,” Wrecker said with an encouraging smile.

“You weren’t with her when she crashed,” Crosshair said with a wry smile.

Omega stuck her tongue out, “That wasn’t my fault.”

“Still, we can’t trust Shand. You can’t work with her, again. We almost died how many times on that poisoned planet.” Wrecker said with unusual firmness.

Hunter studied his brother’s face. His eyebrows were dipped with concern but there was a hardness behind his eyes. Wrecker rarely asserted himself in this way, doing so meant he must feel strongly about it.

“She’s a part of the path now with Rex and Echo, right?” Omega piped up, absentmindedly scratching Batcher under the table. “Maybe she’s changed.”

“Or maybe she’ll send another Sith assassin after us.” Wrecker grumbled.

“What do you think, Cross?” Hunter asked.

His younger brother was much harder to read. His lips were pressed into a thin line, a chop stick taking place of his usual toothpick and he picked at another vegetarian roll. Raw fish wasn’t something he could stomach these days.

“I agree that we can’t trust this bounty hunter. But if the empire knows Echo’s alive, and it sounds like they could, we need to be prepared. I think you should do it, with backup.”

“I don’t know if she’ll go for that. She said she only needed one.”

“And why should it be you?” Wrecker asked.

“She wanted my tracking skills. That’s all Echo said.”

“Maybe that’s not all she wants,” Omega said with a smile.

The three brothers looked at her questioningly.

“Never mind,” she said quietly, scratching under Batcher’s chin so that her long tongue fell out of her mouth, and she rolled to the floor.

“Why does she get to set all the terms?” Crosshair asked, eyes narrowed, jabbing the chopstick in the air for emphasis.  

“Because she’s got the credits.” Hunter said sullenly.

***

Of all the places in the galaxy Fennec Shand had wanted to meet, Ord Mantell had to be the last on the list for Hunter. Commercial flights to the underworld haven weren’t frequent but the timing had lined up perfectly. The Jedi generals may have called it the will of the force, that Hunter was meant to be here, on this mission, at this time, but he wasn’t so sure it wasn’t a trick the universe planned to play on him instead.

He’d survived a lot on this arid soil and humid climate, would he be lucky enough to survive whatever this place offered up for him next?

Collecting his blasters from the droid as he exited the ship (they hadn’t noticed his knife and he hadn’t volunteered its presence), he strode purposely through the city he knew so well. He passed the alleyway that led to Cid’s Parlor and hesitated, as though his feet wanted to take him there automatically. He sighed and kept moving.

There had been rumors about the fate of Cid, Hunter wasn’t sure what to believe but knew if he walked into the parlor now, she wouldn’t be there.

His fists clenched as he thought of the face that had cost him so much and regretted that he hadn’t been the one to watch the light go out in her eyes. He was a good man, he thought, he didn’t kill indiscriminately, didn’t kill if he didn’t have to. He had a code, a compass, that pointed him in the right direction, but this one test he knew he was sure to fail. He had had to rectify that with himself long ago. He wasn’t as good a man as he thought, when it came to this anyway.

He walked through the market towards the side of town he and his squad rarely frequented. The Mantel Mix stand wafted the sweet and spicy scent with fans and his mind crossed to Omega, young and bright eyed, eating the concoction atop Wrecker’s shoulders.

It was dangerous for him to be here, he knew that. He held Tech’s datapad up as he wended his way through alleyways and backstreets until he came upon the heavy durasteel door to a large, abandoned warehouse. A circular droid, akin to an eyeball, poked its head out of the wall and grumbled something in binary that he didn’t understand. Almost immediately the door opened.

“You’re late” Fennec Shand said, stepping aside just to let Hunter pass.

“I have no ship. Avoiding imperial channels takes a while these days.” Hunter said,

“Not my problem.” she said coolly.

“You asked for my expertise, right?” he asked gruffly, taking off his helmet and tucking it under his right arm.

She scowled.

Hunter smirked, “Then It looks like it is your problem.” He could feel himself on edge already. Something about Shand brought out the worst in him.

She turned and walked through a dark hallway, her long, dark braid swinging with every step. She looked strangely relaxed, so much so that Hunter felt like he was intruding. Her heavy jacket and helmet were strewn on the floor like an afterthought. She clearly didn’t see him as a threat, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

He followed her through the cavernous building, their footsteps echoing around them. He kept his hand next to his blaster and attuned every one of his senses simultaneously. When combined he could create a blueprint of sights, sounds, tastes and feelings that could prepare him for almost any threat.

He heard speeders outside, felt thumping of music from a bar down the street. The empty warehouse had the scent of machinery and droids. He tasted oil on his tongue and tried to ignore it. He wished he had something to wash it away with.

Shand kicked a small piece of metal as she walked, it ricochet across the room to a small living quarters she had set up. Hunter thought their home on Pabu was sparse, but compared to this it was positively luxurious.

A small holotable sat in the middle of the space, a messy bed pushed up against the far wall, littered with weapons in various stages of cleaning. The table next to the bed was covered in several containers and half eaten meals.

“Nice place” Hunter said, his tone neutral.

“You think I’d bring you to my place?”

Hunter shrugged.

“I don’t trust anyone enough for that,” she said bluntly.

“That makes two of us,” he said.

She turned to look at him, “You know, I was surprised that you took this job, after last time.”

“Your credits are as good as anyone else’s.” He said in a low voice.

Fennec’s eyebrow raised, “you’ve changed your tune, I thought money wasn’t everything.”

Hunter flinched and changed the subject. “So, who’s the stakeout for?” he asked, gesturing to the electobinoculars on the edge of the bed and rifle propped against the window.

“Observant.” she said, sounding pleased.

“Isn’t that why I’m here?” Hunter asked.

“I thought you were here because you needed the credits,” she said with eyebrows raised.

Hunter chewed on the inside of his cheek, biting back a response. “I’m here to do a job. Do you want to tell me to what you need me for?”

Shand sat on the edge of the bed, right leg crossed over her left leg, picking at the food from the table in front.

“Need is a bit of an overstatement, but I’m short on time. There’s a guild traitor, Moto, I’m trying to track him down along with every other bounty hunter in the sector. I need someone outside of the guild to help me get into places or in front of people I might not otherwise be able to. Figured you might be open to the assignment. And it looks like I was right.”

She pulled out a small, silver bounty puck and pressed a button on the side. A hologram burst to life, The Rodian didn’t look particularly dangerous to Hunter but then looks could be deceiving.

“What did he do?” Hunter asked,

“He tried to stage a coup. The guild leaders didn’t appreciate it.” She said, as though bored.

“Why not team up with other guild members? Doesn’t sound like the kind of job you should need my help with.” Hunter said, eyes narrowed.

“I’m not the most popular member of the guild. Alliances are…tricky when you’re the best.” She said.

Hunter scoffed but didn’t say anything,

“And I don’t ‘need’ you but an extra body who’s capable of combat and who isn’t a guild member will give me a leg up. And that’s all I need to beat them to the score. So, do you want the credits or not?”

Hunter sighed, His entire being was screaming for him to walk away, but for some reason he ignored it. “Fine. Where do we start?”

“He frequents a bar on the other side of town. It’s crawling with guild members.”        

“What makes you think you’ll be able to get intel that they don’t already have?” Hunter asked.

“I have my ways,” Fennec said cryptically. “Waiting on you, Tracker,” she called as she crossed the room, picked up her coat and helmet and strode to the door. Hunter rolled his eyes and sighed.

[fbs-fc-ur-mommy]

Warning :SMUT violence, plot, doesn't follow the manga!

Pairing :giyuu x! oiran reader!

---------------------------------------------------

Giyuu was sent to red light district, there was a humor about an demon. As he walked trought the red light district he was more and more getting annoying so because courtesans keep cat calling him so he went a short way street. It wasn't crowded like the main street but still there was houses full of the smell of cigarettes and being more quiet he could hear clearly the sound of moaning, his crotch getting a little hard from it. As he walked trought he saw an beautiful woman, it was an oiran and he suddenly feel attracted to her, to feel her body, as she looked at him trought the brothel grates she reached for him and touched his cheek and whispered to him something, he didn't understand what he said but he didn't care.

After this she walked gratefully and giyuu couldn't wonder what hides behind the expensive kimono. She looked behind and smiled.

At that moment Giyuu didn't care anymore, about his mission demon or whatever man is eaten right now.

He entered the brothel and paid his whole month salary, the elder woman watching him like he was crazy but she was happy.

Y/n oiran or the known Hatsumono oiran was the top oiran in the hibuya house, she was very charming and only with an look she could make an man coming for only for her paying his whole life. Literally his Life as any man who walked in that room... Nobody will ever come out. The elderly woman knew but that was her last problem, Hatsumono oiran was feeding all her courtesan all kimonos and makeup up, she literally was the main income, she only hope that Hatsumono will never leave the brothel.

As Giyuu entered the room he meet an back looking at the beautiful moon. He haven't patience so he went straight for it, the faster the better as he approached he suddenly sensed euphoria he felt like he was in nine cloud, he felt home. Then everything went black.

He wake up sweating hard and in a imense pleasure, the room being hot asf and two boobs hanging above his head and soft moaning, he didn't know why he blacked out but he didn't think about it. He only grabbed the oiran waist and lifted his hips meeting hers. Her moaning got louder and he guessed thats her sweet spot, so he lifted his hips harder and faster making her go limb in pleasure as he manhandling her like an doll, he only has in his mind her, her gummy walls, tight pussy, her soft boobs, her face and her moans, he wanted her forever he will have her no matter what.

As he felt his orgasm coming he started clitoring her clitoris with one hand making her mouth go wide and her walls tighting so hard that it's make giyuu thrusts harder, she cried softly in his shoulder from over stimulation and he finally came with an grunt.

As they both sat, giyuu didn't bother to pull out, only heavy was hearing. As he wanted to say something he felt her hot breath on his neck making his dick go hard again, and before he could flip her he suddenly feel teeth on his neck then an intense pain and then blackness.

As you stared with disgust at the corpse you couldn't stop your smile on your face, men are so stupid men are only your little dolls and also food how funny. You heared the door opening and entering the "landlord"

As you your hayori over your naked body you remain looking at the moon.

-Do you want to cook again the body - she asked

-Call daki we've got an hashira.

You could only laugh as you tought about your prize from Muzan.

---------------------------------------------------

Thank you all for the likes the Sukuna fic wil come out Friday! <3

[dreamyinception-world]

𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢

pairing: Choi Jongho + Song Mingi

w/c: 3.1k

Genre: Firefighter!AU, Smut, Slight Angst

Summary: Once a week, Mingi comes to the Central City Fire Station to give gifts to head chief officer, Jongho, for saving his family home from a raging house fire. However, after being thanked for longer than expected, Jongho becomes suspicious of what’s really behind the tall boy’s desire to show his gratitude.

Tws: Swearing/Foul Language, Mentions of Poverty/Low Income, Snippet of the Disaster (includes short details from people that were involved in the house fire)

Sws: (Everything of course is consensual) Ass Rimming, Fingering, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Slight Begging, Unprotected Sex, Throat Fucking, Crying, Semi-Public Sex, Gagging, Splitting, Doggy Style (only for a sec), Cum Eating/Swallowing, Cum Swapping, Hair Pulling, Slight Dom/Sub Play, Gaping/Streched Rim

Rating: 18+

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖:: Hello everyone! Thank you for all of the love and support that you have been giving to my work. I really appreciate it. This shot is for all of my lovely Jongho and Mingi stans. There needs to be more Jongho fics in the world, and this is my take on adding him into the pile. As always, if you would like to see another part of this fic in the future, please feel free to message me! Otherwise, enjoy the story and let me know what you think! Thank you!

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕞. 𝕄𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕕!

As a reminder, my work is only for those who are eighteen years or older. Anyone who attempts to interact with my work or blog who is underage will be blocked immediately. You have been warned. 

©𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 2024 || 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ♡

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“So let me make sure I’m understanding this correctly. Your mother asked you to come here every Friday with a gift to show her appreciation towards myself and my team.” 

“Yes.”

“And she asked you to bring it directly to me as opposed to..simply handing it out to the team in the main office?”

“That is what I said isn’t it?”

Jongho couldn’t hold back the smug smile that was crossing his face, lightly scratching the back of his head. 

It was midday at the fire station that he called his home– being that he was the head of the entire province division. It had been his job every day to not only care for the lives of the people in his town, but also every single one of the individuals that crossed the plane between the outside world and the life of a firefighter. 

Every single one of them had been his responsibility. Almost as if they were his own family. 

In the fleeting months since his promotion, he had seen a lot of unfortunate incidents, but nothing came close to the one that involved the boy standing in front of him– Song Mingi– whose mother had been preparing dishes for their family get together when their gas stove burner raged a huge fire, sending all of them barreling out of the house.

Being that he lived not far from their neighborhood, he noticed the smoke whilst washing dishes in his kitchen during his day off, immediately calling the department and running full speed over to their house. 

Due to his swiftness, his boys were able to get to the scene quickly and douse the fire, saving what could have been tens of thousands of dollars in damage to their home– and given the area that they lived in, it would have been costly to fix. 

Since then, the eldest son had taken it upon himself to come every day presenting gifts of gratitude for his help on his day of rest, which Jongho wouldn’t have thought any more than just a kind gesture until now.

“Haha, yes it is. I was just clarifying so that my next question will be easier to answer.” Mingi raises a perfectly groomed brow at him, noticing a small tape recorder in the center of his desk. Without a word, the chief presses the play button.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, I just wanted to bring in some coffee, snacks and fresh kimchi that my sisters and I made yesterday.”

It was his mother’s voice.

“Well that sounds delicious! I’m surprised to be receiving anything so soon, since you asked your son to bring us something the other day.”

“My son? Song Mingi?”

Mingi’s eyebrow twitched.

“Yes! He brought us some desserts from the nearby cafe. They were delicious.”

“I could barely get him to take any leftovers of what we have cooked next door! But he’ll bring some food here no problem. That boy!”

“Oh! I’m sorry! Am I to understand that you didn’t ask for him to bring the cakes?”

“No no no. If he were to bring anything, it would be homemade! Not those fancy little pastries! I’ll have you know that—”

The recording abruptly ends with a press of Jongho’s finger, relaxing himself back on his chair. Noticing Mingi’s flickering eyes, the chief can’t help but let a small laugh pass his lips, immediately getting fixed with a hard stare.

“Do you have a thing for me?” The chief questioned.

“A thing for you?” Mingi’s eyes narrowed.

“The act of liking someone in an otherwise platonic manner? Having a crush on, feelings for, lusting after-“

“Lusting after?!”

“Whatever phrasing you want to use is fine with me. I’m just curious.”

Mingi let out a short laugh with a look of pure disbelief.

“Look, I don’t know what the hell you’ve got going on in your head that I’m thinking about sleeping with you or something. Are you crazy?”

With hands tucked into his pockets, Jongho rose from his chair to lean against the front side of his desk. His eyes trailed up and down Mingi’s frame, noticing a particular area with a languid head tilt that seemed to defy the boy’s faux anger. By the time their eyes met again, his face was almost completely pink, with an ounce of desperation in his eyes. 

Hm..interesting. He thought to himself. Fine then, I’ll play along.

“And what if I am? Are you going to do something about it?” 

Mingi’s hands trembled, palms slightly sweaty, one of them resting against the doorknob. 

His eyes fell between the door and back at the desk where Jongho watched him with a smoldering look, with a hint of challenge in them.

Are you going to stay or run home to your mother?

The sound of the door lock clicking in place brought a wide smile to Jongho’s face, beaconing Mingi closer to him with one finger. 

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“Y-You’re bold enough to– god fuck– do this in the office. You’re a g-goddamn whore.” Mingi bantered through strews of moans and curses, his face twisting with pleasure pressed against the desk. He clawed onto any edge that he could reach as Jongho tongue dipped in and out of hole with content hums in between. 

The way his tongue twisted and curled in and out of him, slinking his tongue out to watch his own spit dribble down the boy’s balls, only to follow the trail eagerly back to his quivering hole. Kneading his cheeks between his hands, a deep set growl lunged from his mouth at Mingi’s legs buckling.

Since when were firemen so skilled? 

Mingi was so sure that this type of ability was bordering inhumane. Mapping out every inch of him as if he knew exactly what was driving him completely off the rails. 

How on Earth could he know his body so well?

“The question isn’t how I know it so well,” Jongho mused, not seeing the way Mingi’s eyes widened at his tone and the fact that he actually said that shit out loud, slicking up three of his fingers without much thought and plunging two of them inside of Mingi without much resistance. A laugh bubbled up in his throat at the way his body shied cutely away from the intrusion, yet so eager swallowed with each dip in and out. 

“I think it’s more so of how your body responds to me. It’s almost like it was..made for me.” His tongue swiped against his bottom lip, toying with one of Mingi’s balls in his mouth and lightly jerking him off. 

The elder boy’s back arched against the desk, a hand coming down rather abruptly against the wood in an effort to ground himself. He made no effort to keep himself quiet, yet when he felt that familiar tension reach his hips, he gritted his teeth and tensed his muscles. 

There’s no goddamn way that he was going to cum this soon and let himself be embarrassed. Not after he was sure that the firefighter would be busting before him. He already reeked of desperation for far too long. He had to hold it for just a little longer. 

But unfortunately for him– Jongho, of course, was a bit quicker than him. 

By the thrust of his third finger, Mingi had been completely maneuvered around onto his back with an arm thrown over his eyes, not allowing Jongho to catch a glimpse of them rolling from every swallow around his length. 

Don’t fucking look down, Song Mingi. Don’t you dare.

Regardless, Jongho fixed him with a heated stare, enjoying every tense, trembling lift of Mingi’s hips when his tongue rolled in circles around the tip before heaving out a long, feverish moan, feeling the constricting heat travel all the way down to the base of his dick. He sharply sucked in a breath when the man held his head down, pushing and curling his fingers in and out of his hole. 

“Oh my–GOD, fuck! You’re such an–AH!” Mingi’s face burned red at the desperate choked whine that left his lips, gushing cum down Jongho’s throat. Without a missed beat, the chief immediately let out a muffled chuckle, slurping his way to the tip with small pulsed suckles. 

He yanked him off by his brown locks, hearing the man’s wicked chuckle at full force now. 

“Y-You f-fucking asshole..” Mingi tried to catch his breath, jaw tensing when Jongho easily overpowered the grip on his head, moving and kissing the dip between Mingi’s left hip.

“Aw, you don’t like me anymore? And here I was thinking that you were just starting to enjoy yourself.” He bared over the boy’s partially naked body, kissing his shoulder whilst rutting his very obvious boner on him. 

“You sure you don’t want him? He’s been waiting patiently for you to let him in.”

The taller one turned his head away to avoid the very obviously teasing look on the chief’s face. 

“F–Whatever. J-Just get on with it and stop teasing me.”

“Tsk, tsk.” Jongho wagged a single finger in front of him, holding himself up by both arms on either side of him. 

“If you’re to know anything about me, Song Mingi, is that I’m quite..meticulous. I like to savor every last little bit. Maybe you’re used to someone who will do what they want and then be done with you– and they are a coward.” In the heat of the moment, his tone became rather serious, punctuating the last part, as if to prove something to Mingi about his choice of words. Whether it be because he thinks Mingi deserves better or was speaking from personal experience, the boy couldn’t tell– as his expression couldn’t hit anything to him. 

Mingi gnawed lightly on the inside of his lips, averting him out of sheer embarrassment again. 

They were supposed to be fucking, not getting serious. Yet, maybe there was something right in what he was saying. 

God, I have to manage my expectations and priorities. 

Jongho didn’t give him too much time to think about it, tilting his chin to look at him straight on. For the first time, since they had started messing around, he bared a small smile though his eyes were still relatively heated. The gesture made Mingi’s body relax, guiding his arms comfortably around his midsection. The chief placed a lingering kiss to his lips, nibbling on his bottom before giving him a lazy smile.

“When we’re finished, won’t you tell me how good I did? Well..if you’re still with me by the end.” Mingi immediately knocked him with his heel in a feigned annoyance, Jongho chuckling at the pout on the boy’s face. Leaning back enough to put himself into Mingi’s complete line of sight, he tugged his belt free from the loops, snapping his pants open and letting the garments drop to the floor. 

Good fucking god..

Now, Mingi had been with quite a few men before ending up in the fire station, bent over the chief of the department's desk. But never, not fucking once, had he ever been with someone the size of this man– so much so that he didn’t realize his eyes were bugging out of his head until Jongho’s laugh cut through his thoughts. 

“Not to sound conceited, but I’ve seen that look before. But, don’t worry. He won’t hurt you.” He swiftly scooped up his legs, admiring the pulsed tension that his fingers left behind as they traveled down to his hips, giving them a sudden tug forward. Pulling open his side drawer with one hand, he fished out a small, clear plastic container, squeezing the contents onto himself and onto Mingi’s hole. 

“Take a deep breath in for me.” Jongho commanded, rather sweetly. 

Letting the air slowly fill puff up his chest, he felt them get caught the moment he began inching himself inside. The sheer girth and length of the man filling up, pulsing and stretching him wide open, barely had Mingi processing a damn thing– let alone hearing anything that was being said to him. 

“Breathe out~” Jongho groaned out, rolling his hips forward the moment a whorish moan ripped out of Mingi’s throat. His hole fluttered around him, gritting his teeth through every clench until he started to feel his muscles loosen. By then, sweat began to slick his hair to his face and drip down the sides of his body, keeping his leg held firmly in his grip and pressing light kisses to the areas he could reach. 

It felt like something was burning in between them as they kept their eyes locked on each other’s, admiring every chance in their facial expressions and desperation to make themselves feel blissfully good. Their bodies rolled in unison, meeting each other halfway without a second thought. 

Having his body nearly folded in half and being yanked down feverishly by his hips, Mingi struggled to keep his focus or his eyes open to see everything that Jongho was giving to him, especially when he angled himself slightly to the left, the head of his cock just brushing against where he wanted.

“Fuck, I wish you could see this.” Jongho breathed out with his eyebrows pulled up, watching every ripple of Mingi’s ass travel up to the top of his thigh to the way he continued to swallow more and more of him so eagerly. A peek of his tongue poked out from his mouth as he slung both legs onto his shoulders, pistoning himself faster. The moment Mingi’s moans reached a new pitch, he focused on that spot whilst chasing his own high. 

“Please don’t stop!! Please!” Mingi cried out, his blunt nails digging into Jongho’s knuckles when the boy reached around and jerked him off quickly in tune with him. Within a few seconds, Mingi’s arm slammed against the table with a sharp gasp. A shock ripped through his body down to his pelvis, jolting his hips upward and sputtering cum all over Jongho’s fist and abdomen. 

“YES~” The man heaved out and curled his fingers around Jongho’s, moving his hand faster to catch every last drop and snatching him up to his mouth. He kept his eyes on him, curling his finger around every digit once his pace had slowed down, not leaving any bits behind. 

“You take me so well, Mingi-ah. Maybe I’ll have to keep you.” Jongho ran his fingers along Mingi’s spine after pulling out of him, guiding him upright through sloppy kisses. His hands skillfully kneaded every tense, sore muscle by Mingi’s hips and sides, only stopping when they separated, a small string of spit connecting them together. 

“Then let me be your gift from now on.” Mingi purred, pressing him back onto his chair with one hand. 

Slinking down to the floor obscured from view of the door, Mingi wasted no time sliding Jongho half way in his mouth and mapping out every inch of him with his tongue. Their fingers ran up and down each other’s upper bodies from what they could reach, Jongho’s hands finally resting on either side of Mingi’s head, guiding him up and down with sharp inhales. Upon hearing the sound of his tip hitting the back of the man’s throat, his fingers instantly tightened around his head. 

Mingi looked up at him from between his lashes, spitting all that he had saved up down Jongho’s cock with a small smirk. “Don’t hold back.” 

Jongho let out a drawn out groan when he was enveloped in Mingi’s mouth again, practically bouncing the boy’s head up and down on his cock, feeling his balls slowly draw up from every brush of his tongue against the sensitive areas of his tip. With a shaky exhale, the chief sat up straighter with a booming moan, cupping Mingi’s neck and fucking his cum down his throat. 

“That’s it. Take it all.” His eyebrows pinched upward, a wicked smile crossing his face as tears brimmed at the corner of Mingi’s eyes, wiping them away with his thumbs. Once he was fully satisfied, Mingi slowly let go of him with a loud pop, making an effort out of wiping the corner of his lips and sucking lightly on his fingers before crawling back into Jongho’s lap. 

The two shared heated, yet fleeting kisses with Jongho’s hands resting comfortably on Mingi’s globes with a short hum. 

“So, how did I do?” Jongho spoke once separated, raising an eyebrow at the faux debating look on Mingi’s face, finding the ceiling more interesting than him for only but a second, humming before looking back at him. Dancing his fingers up his arms to hanging loosely around his neck, he leaned in close to his ear, smiling from ear to ear.

“Round two?”

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𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: @atiny-piratequeen @kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @little-lazuli

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