#then again when is he ever on his best behavior

[yawping-poets-society]

been Thinking about richard cameron again...

and i think the thing that people don't always see when discussing his character is that we the viewers can and should have a different interpretation of his character than the poets do

i get why charlie punched him. fine, i'll say it, i even think it's justifiable (stay with me here)

charlie was a seventeen year old who had just lost his best friend, and had always been predisposed to dislike cameron. why? because charlie only ever saw cameron as a rule follower, a brownoser, a teacher's pet. when cameron talks to nolan, charlie sees it as a betrayal but not a surprise because to him, this is classic cameron behavior. in his mind, obviously cameron would choose authority over his friends and the one teacher who fought the limits that welton set for them. charlie doesn't ever think about what position cameron was in.

and i get it! again! charlie is a teenager who is experiencing probably the most emotional time of his life. same goes for the rest of the poets. they all feel betrayed. and frankly, cameron's dialogue in the scene where charlie punches him is cruel, and a blatant misunderstanding of who neil was, and what keating was trying to do (as todd points out). he says a lot of shit, and none of it makes you want to like him. he wasn't winning any sympathy points from the poets or from the audience.

it’s easy to watch that scene back and say, “cameron behaved horribly here, therefore he is a horrible person with no redeeming qualities.” but when we're actually analyzing the movie? i think we have a responsibility to really consider cameron's motivations.

for starters, he was always the odd one out among the poets. charlie picked on him constantly, and no one ever stood up for him, except maybe neil. and not only does cameron hang out with the poets, he's charlie's roommate. he probably never caught a break from hearing how poorly charlie thought of him.

more than that, though, he has a clear and consistent need to follow authority. on keating's very first day, cameron is one of the first students to stand up and follow him out of the classroom. he does it hesitantly, sure, but we can tell what he's thinking: when a teacher tells you what to do, you do it. this pattern continues all the way into the aforementioned scene with charlie when cameron says: "in case you hadn't heard, dalton, there's something called an honor code at this school, alright? if a teacher asks you a question, you tell the truth, or you're expelled." true, yes, cameron's saving his own ass. but what choice does he have? in his mind, none. this is how the world works. you keep your head down, you do what you're told, or you get punished.

do i think it was the right thing to do? maybe not. do i think the poets are entitled to their anger towards him? yeah, i do. but i understand why cameron did it. he was a scared kid, who, when caught between a rock and a hard place, fell back on what he'd been taught his whole life.

so, to wrap all this up: no, cameron's not unequivocally good. he hurt his friends, and they have a right to be upset with him. but he didn't set out with bad intentions. he was just a kid, and what he did doesn't make him evil, it makes him complex. he has a right to be treated as such.

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Emotions Gen 1 pt.93

CW: Crude Language, Mentions Death, Surgery Complications

Kason went to find the family and deliver the news. The abrasive hospital lights added to his already haunted expression. First, Mercury was still in surgery. She suffered from a head contusion, two broken ribs, and a broken arm. The fractured ribs turned into a bigger issue, puncturing her right lung, and causing it to collapse. The surgeon was forced to perform a pleurodesis. During the procedure, her heart stopped.

The surgeon managed to revive her, before mending the tear in her lung, now they were working to stop some internal bleeding, made worse during the resuscitation process. Subsequent to that information he told them about Paris's plan.

Though they were relieved to hear M was alive, they were equally devastated to hear how serious her injuries were and she wasn't out of the woods yet. That sadness was channeled into outrage towards Paris, their anger twofold due to her fictional rendition of events.

The triplets were still held in the Pediatrics unit with Spirit when Kason delivered the double-edged sword.

Earlier, Dr. Brawner; the triplet's pediatrician, confirmed that Venus sprained her wrist. After an examination and a brief conversation, Dr. Brawner bandaged Venus's wrist before informing Spirit and Peyton that she intended to keep all the kids longer. She wanted to monitor Venus's range of motion but also sent in a child psychiatrist to observe the triplet's behavior, specifically Venus.

As the adults waited for another update on Mercury, Beckett excused himself to locate Spirit and check on the triplets. The remaining party discussed ways to clear Kason's name in the event the police started to believe that Paris's tall tales held any merit.

Winter: M came to see us when you were on that business trip. She definitely showed me and Peyton your text about that bitches disgusting behavior.

Kiersten: I have plenty of videos and pictures from Rufus, showing Paris basically sexually harassing the entire office.

Winter: Let's not forget all the information that Takara gathered during M's lawsuit against the paparazzi.

Peyton: I still have all the text you sent me from the first week you started training her. They’re pretty specific and there is no way we fabricated them they're time and date-stamped.

Kason ignored them, once again overwhelmed by what he believed were his own shortcomings.

Kason: I'll take care of it, this is my fault I deserve whatever happens. If I’d pushed Greg harder to do something or called the police, M wouldn't be...None of you should have to deal with this. I failed, just like Detective Jerk-off said.

Peyton: Will you give it a rest! This is her fault and her fault alone! Unless you want to tell us that you tried to have M and the kids killed for money? Because if that's the case then, yes, you're on your fucking own! Otherwise, shut the hell up and let us help you!

Kason: Don't you ever say that shit to me again!

Winter: Peyton, calm down.

Peyton: No! I'm sick of his fucking pity party. Could he have done more, yes, but we all could have done more! We all knew! But, your family needs you now and all you can do is cry about how it's all your fault. Wah, wah, wah. Your kids are handling this better than you are and according to you they actually got to see what happened. Grow up, dude!

Winter: Peyton!

Kiersten: Guys...

Kason: Fuck you, Peyton.

Peyton: Thats my nieces, my nephew, and my best friend!

Winter: And those are his wife and kids!

Peyton: Then he needs to pull himself together! This is exactly what Paris wants. She hopes you'll fold and won’t be able to fight her allegations. Then all her little stories will start to look true, as you hide away waiting for someone to come looking for answers. Don't isolate yourself! When Dad died you did the same thing. You wouldn't let me be there for you then, but let us be here for you now!

Kiersten: I'm not sure what happened with your dad, but he's right Kason. This isn't your fault. Not this nor the fire. I'm sorry, I know I haven't been...I haven't... I shouldn’t have...I'm so sorry, but you must know, that none of us blame you for Paris's actions. So, please don't destroy yourself over this. It's not what M or Rufus would want for you.

Kason looked around at the group. Their faces mirrored his tumultuous emotions. Terror and indignation were at the forefront, but their eyes lacked the dejection he was sure shone from his own. Instead, their eyes held compassion, and patience, and just below that was a hint of caution.

Kason: [sigh] I'm sorry, I just.. I can't believe this is happening. But Peyt- you guys are right. I need to stop sulking and get it together and I do need your help.

Peyton: Ahhh! Like music to my ears. Say it again!

Winter: Really Peyton?

She bit back an involuntary smile.

Kiersten: How does he jump from angry mob to comedian like that?

She asked, bent over in a fit of giggles. Kason shook his head, but he had a small grin on his face.

Kason: Good grief. Is he really my brother?

Peyton's comment had provided some momentary relief from the otherwise tense situation. The group resumed the discussion more cohesively.

They broke down Paris's story into key components. First, Kason and Paris being "Official". They compiled a list of events that could dispute that claim. Next, they moved on to her claims that Kason wanted a divorce. Kiersten mentioned the article in Simblr Magazine about their "alleged divorce". Kason countered, pulling up M’s simstagram response to the magazine with the photos from their Spooky Day party.

Winter: The guest and the paparazzi can attest to the validity and authenticity of their relationship from that night alone. They were all over each other.

Kason: The guest sure, but the paparazzi are out for blood. After they lost the lawsuit for slander they've been following M around constantly. I don't think it's a coincidence they showed up at the supermarket and hospital so fast. No way they found out so quickly unless someone was already following us.

Winter: Or Paris tipped them off. She did give those pictures of you and Madison to them, I wouldn’t put it past her to want an audience for her little….performance.

Winter wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Peyton: I want to believe there isn't a sim alive who would have known this was going to happen, and didn't try and stop it, even if they are paparazzi looking for a story.

Kason: I wouldn't be so sure.

Peyton pushed the conversation along.

Peyton: let’s leave that miserable scenario right where it is. What about the reports you made at work and the fire? Those reports have to be on file and your boss fired her because he thinks she was the cause of the fire. That has to be useful for something.

Kason: He actually agreed to release her because she attacked a new IT team member in the break room. The fire started while I was wrapping up the conversation about terminating her.

Winter: Have you spoken to him? What are his thoughts on the fire?

Kason: I have. He’s almost as convinced as I am that she started the fire, but he won’t do anything until we have that camera footage. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want more bad blood between himself and Mr.Amyot, which is why he isn’t handling this more aggressively.

Kiersten’s soft voice cut in.

Kiersten: Can we just wait for M and the kids, please? I-I can’t talk about this anymore.

The silence that followed her plea was deafening. Just three days earlier her husband had been in that exact fire. Today, he was two floors above them, recovering in one of Brindelton General's many hospital beds.

Kason: Sure Kiersten. Sorry.

Peyton and Winter took that as their queue to end the conversation. Kason and Kiersten took a seat on the bench, while Peyton and Winter took up a position a short distance away, comforting each other quietly. Kiersten shivered from the fridge hospital air, she stared at the floor with sad eyes.

Kiersten: Stop apologizing. It's just…hard talking about people you care about being hurt, and for what; because of one person's jealousy? We shouldn't need to have this conversation. It’s just all wrong.

Kason: Believe me, I know what you're feeling. Rufus has quickly become one of my best friends. I hate that I couldn't do more for him.

Kiersten: When I said people I care about, that includes you. I know I haven't behaved like a good friend lately and it would be easy to blame it on hormones, but that wouldn’t be unfair. I was upset, confused, and scared and took it out on you. I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that. You are Rufus's best friend. You and M have become very dear to me and the kids. I would never want to lose that kind of friendship.

Kason: Now look who’s apologizing too much? Honestly, I'm just glad you don't hate me. It's one burden lifted, a heavy one mind you. We'll get through this together Kiersten. I promise Paris won’t win and we won’t let her take anything more from us.

Kiersten reached over and placed her hand over Kason's, she looked over at him and smiled.

Kiersten: I trust you.

The moment was interrupted when they heard Mercurys' name being called.

Doctor: Family of Mercury Gratz?

Everyone scrambled forward, tripping over themselves and each other to reach the approaching gentlemen. The doctor stumbled back in surprise, smiling warmly at the concerned faces that stared back at him.

Doctor: I'm pleased to share, that Mercury did very well. They are getting her cleaned up and moved into a private recovery room. I do want to inform you, that we are keeping her in a medically induced coma to reduce the risk of her rebreaking her ribs or tearing the repaired lung. She is suffering from a concussion but her brain activity is normal. The surgeon was able to relieve the slight pressure from the blow to her head. We anticipate she'll make a full recovery.

Their relief was audible as they released the breath they'd been simultaneously holding, while smiles broke out across their faces.

Kason: Thank you, doctor.

Winter: Will we be able to see her tonight?

Doctor: Yes. As soon as she is set up in her recovery room, you may visit with her.

Winter's wings flapped involuntarily giving away her excitement. The Doctor smiled at the small gesture.

Doctor: I can see you’re all eager. Let me see what I can do to expedite the process. Excuse me.

The moment he was gone Kason broke down into a sob. Peyton, Winter, and Kiersten surrounded him. Their own eyes filled with unshed tears.

Peyton: She's going to be okay. They're all going to be okay.

Winter: It's okay Kason. Your okay.

Kiersten:

Through his sobs only a single letter was coherent, He repeated it again and again.

Kason: M….M

No one said another word. They stood silently, surrounding him as he cried, trying to shed some of the guilt, fear, and sorrow he’d managed to build up in the past 5 hours. When his sobs quieted to mere sniffles and shoulder shakes, Kiersten handed him a handkerchief. He excused himself to find a men’s room and get cleaned up.

20 minutes later the doctor returned, and his news was only second best to him announcing Mercury had survived.

Doctor: Room 265. She is all yours family.

As the doctor excused himself, the group looked at each other, their excitement peeled away to expose the nerves. Aside from Kason, none of them knew what to expect. For a while no one spoke, so Kason took charge.

Kason: I’m going to check in with the kids and let Spirit and Beckett know M’s out of surgery and what room. Who wanted to see her first or do you all want to go together?

Kiersten took a step back, shaking her head.

Kiersten: I’m sorry, I’m not ready to see her like this yet. I should get home to the boys.

Kason: I understand. Do you want company? I have to take the triplets home at some point.

She declined again.

Kiersten: Thank you, but I just need some time alone. Besides, you should be here.

Kason: Thank you for being here Kiersten. It means a lot to M and it means a lot to me. I’ll call you a cab. Text us when you’re home.

Kason called Kiersten a ride and walked her down to ensure she was okay. Once she was gone he went to find Spirit and the kids. Meanwhile, Winter and Peyton decided to visit with M separately. Winter entered, quickly realizing she couldn't handle being in the room alone, and called for Peyton who was waiting in the hall. He joined her, shocked by the sight of M, but he did his best to hide his discomfort for Winter’s sake. She and Winter were like sisters but Peyton and M had quickly become bestfriends early in her tenancy in San Myshuno. When they couldn't bear to see her like that any longer they exited in a hurry and Spirit somberly took their place.

She quietly took out a copy of "Court of the Slumbering Fae" as she gazed at her daughter. She took a seat on the blue loveseat and began reading. When she finished the first chapter, she earmarked the page and closed the book placing it on the sofa.

Spirit: I will be back soon little planet.

She whispered as she headed for the door. She stole one last glance before stepping out into the hall. Kason was there, helping the triplets put on their outerwear.

Kason: Put your earmuffs on Dite, it's cold out.

Spirit: Everything okay out here?

Kason walked over leaving the kids to finish dressing and talking amongst themselves. Kason sighed, exhausted from the day.

Kason: They want to see her, but I think they should wait till tomorrow. It's late and they've been through so much. They need to eat, bathe, and get some rest. I can bring them back in the morning to see her.

Spirit: That makes sense, but I will take them home. You need to be here with M. Have you seen Beckett?

Kason: He left right after they discharged the triplets. He said he would come back and see M tomorrow.

Spirit nodded in understanding.

Spirit: Shooting star incoming.

She tried to warn him, but before Kason could turn he heard Ishtar's voice

Ishtar: Dad, are we going to see Mommy tonight?

Kason looked at Spirit for help but she just smiled and raised her eyebrows.

Kason: Not tonight buddy. Nana is going to take you guys home so you can have a nice hot meal, a warm bath, and sleep in your bed.

Ishtar: Okay, but you have to stay here with Mommy so she's not all alone.

Kason kissed Ishtar's cheek.

Kason: Of course I will. I won't leave her side for a minute. Not even to potty.

Ishtar laughed, as Kason called the girls over to tell them they were going home. Spirit waited patiently as he said his goodbyes. Kason did his best to seem in high spirits. It seemed to work for Ishtar and Aphrodite who joined in Kasons antics, but Venus remained docile. He gave the girls hugs before the car arrived. Just before Spirit left she stopped to hug Kason.

Spirit: You did well Hilang Bulan. Jorden would be proud of you. Our solar system is still whole. Do us all a favor and try and get a little rest tonight.

Kason smiled at the high praise. He hadn't heard that name since M was pregnant with Zohreh. He hugged her a little tighter, moved by her words.

Kason: Thank you Spirit. I will.

He walked them out, then returned to M's room alone.

Kason: Hello gorgeous. Even after all that you are still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

He removed his coat and set it down on the chair. He picked up the book Spirit had left behind. He sat in the chair nearest M and opened the marked page.

Kason: Let's see where you left off.

He began reading from chapter two. He read until he felt the book slipping from his hands. Instead of pulling out the fancy Murphy bed, Kason curled up on the sofa and watched M until he fell asleep.

Previous Next

Beginning

[kwillow]

enraptured by Theo :>

Thank you! I'm happy to hear that. He's my darling creepy little weirdo and my favorite freak to write and draw.

(This is also rather serendipitous because I just finished a comic with him as a central character, which I'll be posting tomorrow! He's, uh... not on his best behavior in it.)

[futebolfutbol]

Found out my cousin hates neymar because he parties too much?? okay???

[lokissweater]

a good man

{bodyguard!kento nanami x rich girl f!reader}

summary: kento nanami has been your appointed bodyguard since the age of nineteen. his poised, calm, respectable mannerisms having you falling to your knees over him as he was completely different than any of the other boys in your life… for he was a man— taking care of your rowdy party girl behaviors and guiding you with the best advice and judgement he could possibly muster, and you loved him, gutted over the fact that he possibly only thought of you as a spoiled little brat who was useless and incompetent, as a client, and you wanting to be more than just that to him… except you were. for kento had already fallen over his knees for you.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, BRATTY AFFF RICH GIRL SPOILED READER she’s a little baddie o yes, LOWKEEEYYY brat tamer kento MEEOOOWWW, FLUUFFF GALLOOREE!!, slight angst!!, kento is SOOO SOOFTTT AND A LIL GENTLEMAANN, blowjob YUM, oral m receiving, mentions of doing the sex, deep throating, SEDUCTIVE AF READER BRO, cursing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sexual themes, kento is older than reader by three years, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 20.3k (i yap i fear)

authors note: I NEED A FUCKING MAN !!!! LIKE KENTO !!! RAAAAHDVSJSBSJSJ this BEAUTIFUL precious concept was a blend and mixy of multiple requests i got for sir nanami blended into one!! :,)) i hope i did you guys justice to those who requested and sent in ideas my loves !!! <3333 AND I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE ITTT JUST AS MUCH AS I DOOO AAHHH !!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO SO SOOO MUCHHH MWAAHHH !! <3333

“please don’t do that.”

you were undoubtedly the most defiant, stubborn girl kento had ever met.

“and why not?” you pouted. “it’s just for a little bit… and i can’t leave my friend hanging when she’s dealing with such a crisis! she needs my help.”

“your help.” kento repeated. “she needs your help going to a party…. at one in the morning.”

“it’s not a party it’s a small gathering—”

“y/n the hour is ungodly right now…” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “i don’t believe this is very wise.”

you finished applying your blush and stepped back from your large vanity, quickly placing your brush back in it’s holder and grabbing your bottle of perfume, spritzing it.

“it’s fine ken!” you looked up and smiled. “i’ll just be gone for a little while i��ll be back before—”

“i’m sorry—” he held a palm up. “you’ll just be gone? darling, you realize i have to go with you.”

“but whyyy?” you mumbled, slouching dramatically and chucking your perfume bottle on your bed. “two hours! just give me two hours i promise i’ll be back—”

“i’m afraid not.”

“whyyyy!” you whined again, and kento only looked at you with a straight stoic face.

“because it’s my job to go with you and you know that.”

and you’d always been defiant and stubborn, kento having known you since you were a little girl as both his and your father were family friends for years, your upbringing a little different from his as your father was exponentially wealthy and owned various companies and properties, his parents just so happening to work for him and gain special bonds and camaraderie over the time of your growing lives.

though kento was only three years older than you— the gap nothing notable or too drastic, it sure as hell felt like it with how bratty and rebellious you were sometimes on a day to day basis that he had to bare witness of since the age of fourteen.

so why kento thought of you so much when you were the epitome of a spoiled princess… was a little unclear to him.

or maybe he did know exactly why— the reasoning transparently clear, to a fucking T actually… yet his pride and the oath he had set with your father the minute kento started pursuing his desired career after high school, hindered him from ever admitting anything to anyone. especially you.

and because he constantly ignored the way he felt, he was regrettably perplexed every time he was around you— which was literally every single second of every waking day since the moment he received his protection licensing… for kento was your bodyguard, hired by your father who saw his interests in technical protection training, and trusted no other man around his daughter other than kento himself, encouraging him to pursue it as a career in the promise that he would guarantee him a position— one with a pay that would have him set for the rest of his life so long as his precious little daughter was happy and safe.

and kento took the offer without so even as a twitch in his serious expression for two reasons.

the first was the obvious, to solidify proper employment for himself in the career that he’d always paid particular interest in ever since he was a kid— to make a man out of himself and work under prestigious and professional levels of security with someone, your father, who’s orders of authority were equivalent to a president, and a man he admired like no other and dreamed of owning a business that was as fruitful as his.

and the other… was to keep an eye on you.

you were reckless, bratty, naive, troublesome, silly, and never took absolutely anything seriously— all things that worried kento to no end anytime you so even managed to slip from his sharp attentive line of sight since the both of you were young.

and you escaping him happened a little more often than he’d like to admit.

like now.

“y/n—”

kento sharply turned upon hearing your snickering little giggles zooming past him and trailing from down the hall already, him swiftly retrieving his blazer that he had previously set on one of your lounge chairs and settling it over his arm, long and hasty steps striding out of your bedroom and down the hall, him peaking in several dark open doors and hallways of your ginormous mansion of a home on his way— the clicking of your heels and you still giggling serving as a guide for him to find you.

he sighed.

“darling, this isn’t going to change the fact that i still have to accompany you—”

kento rounded the corner and entered one of the many lounge area rooms your father used for business meetings and partnerships, your little head poking out from behind one of the large sofas with a disgruntled pouty look.

“says who?”

“says me.” he took the blazer from his arm and extended it, shaking it out a little and preparing to put it on. “and your father.”

you let out a tiny grumble, getting up off your knees and standing.

“but don’t you wanna go to sleep ken?”

“very much so.”

“so then go! i’m giving you permission heh!” you chirped, sending him a striking smile. “i won’t tell my father! or anyone! you deserve a good nights rest—”

“i’m going with you and that’s final.”

you threw your head back and groaned in frustration, kento finding your tantrum a little amusing as he chuckled and shrugged on his blazer.

“you want to go to this event, yes?”

you funnily slugged on over to his side with dragging steps, eyes to the floor. 

“mhm…”

“so then enough fighting and let’s go.” he stepped to the side and gently ushered you forward. “i’d like to be back before your father wakes up.”

you walked forward and out of the lounge room, the both of you beginning your journey down the hall and towards the grand staircase, kento following behind you as you still internally huffed and puffed about him coming along.

your refutes to kento joining you weren’t because you didn’t like him or anything like that… it was quite the opposite actually.

you were obsessed with that man.

“you scare my friends you know…”

the side of his lip quirked.

“do i?”

“mhm.”

“how so sweetheart?”

“i think it’s your face.” you turned your head around and looked behind you as you walked, hands wringing behind your back with a cute grin. “it’s so serious. and it might be because you’re always staring them down whenever they hang out with me.”

kento calmly walked ahead of you and stepped down a few steps, his hand automatically coming up to assist you and you taking it as you carefully descended down the steps, a gentle act he always did for you.

he pursed his lips. 

“i’m simply doing my job… but i suppose i could lay off a bit.”

you giggled. “no it’s okay ken! i agree. they just don’t know you like i do.”

ever since you practically met him you were obsessed— him being the most poised and respectful piece of hunk to ever grace your life, as kento was so unbelievably different from all of the other straight up boys in your life that deemed themselves to be men, when in reality they didn’t even come close to that whatsoever.

kento nanami was the definition of a man.

and out of everything that you’ve ever received on a silver platter with zero hesitation since technically birth… you wanted him the most.

except you were convinced he wasn’t obsessed with you like you were with him.

because the second kento became your bodyguard at the age of literal nineteen, there wasn’t ever a moment that you remember where he wasn’t with you and pulled to your side like a magnet— guarding and watching your every move and making sure that you were out of harms way no matter what, all things that were automatic and essentially part of the job description.

but you feared that it was just that.

that kento didn’t view you the way you viewed him… that you were just a client to him and that the reason he was always around was because he had to be, and not because he wanted to.

you feared that kento only saw you as some helpless spoiled girl who couldn’t do anything for herself and therefore always needed guidance, and you also feared that because he’d known you since you were little and became your bodyguard when you were sixteen, that he still saw you as a sixteen year old and not the full grown woman that you were now.

the thought was mortifying to you.

and you wondered if kento had ever thought about you as something more than just— a client? maybe.. maybe as a lover?

did he at least view you as a friend?

but more importantly, if he wasn’t your bodyguard… would he stay? 

kento assisted you down to the very last step as you shook away your thoughts, the both of you making your way out through the front glass double doors and over to his car in the open driveway, a sleek and shiny black luxury SUV that you always preferred to sit in rather than your own vehicle as his little passenger princess— always and forever and at times putting up a fight when your father would make you drive instead of kento, spouting some nonsense about how he didn’t want you to forget how to drive and become an incompetent girl.

and you’d each time just scoff and roll your eyes— your father always looking for ways to jab scoldings at you and fuss over every choice you’d make regardless of how big or small it was, believing you to be an incompetent girl anyways and you choosing to ignore him and scowl as you moved behind kento’s big buff frame to hide, him knowing to take over and speak for you whenever you did, as your father listened to him better than he did you ever since you were young.

kento in a way also scolded you often and fussed over your choices… but he was gentle. never raising his voice at you or overstepping any boundaries that made you feel like you were stupid and incapable of things, him always giving you the chance to fix it or refute with an open mind and heart to hear you out… and you loved kento. that was a given.

and your dramatic self deemed that the day kento yelled at you for the first time for whatever reason— was the day that you died.

kento smoothly smiled over what you said with closed lips and opened the car door for you, you getting in and pinching the skirt of your flowy mesh dress to readjust once you were seated, straightening it up over your legs as he rounded over and got in the drivers seat.

“i know a way you can lay off a bit so you don’t scare off my friends tonight ken!”

he started the engine and flickered on the high beams, your eyes squinting at the sudden brightness ahead of you.

“and that is..?”

you grinned and leaned over the center console, placing your elbow on it and propping your chin up with your palm, him looking at you expectantly.

so handsome.

“why don’t you stare at me instead of staring at them!”

kento breathed in as he looked away, steering around and out of the driveway while your close proximity and sweet expensive perfume wafted all around him— filling up his every system with everything that was wonderfully you as he tried hard not to let it show.

“i believe i already do just that.” he spoke. “it’s my job to watch you darling.”

“okay then watch me harder.”

he blinked, your wording somehow twinging a sense of provocativeness when it wasn’t anything like that at all, and he wanted to wash his brain out with holy water for thinking of something inappropriate like that with you.

but you leaned even closer, lips by his ear as he turned the steering wheel to make an easy left.

“you’re supposed to have eyes only for me right?”

kento swallowed.

“i’m supposed to have eyes everywhere.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and leaned back a bit. “okay… but maybe for tonight, just me!”

“i’m afraid if it’s just you i won’t be able to watch for any other signs of abnormality—”

“oh my god booo!” you huffed and plopped back down in your seat, arms crossing as you stared ahead. “you’re no fun…”

kento chuckled and lifted his arm, patting your head and you blushing before he placed his hand back on the gear shift, the only thing on your mind now was how much you wanted to stuff his big fingers in your mouth—

“the event is still the one on melrose street, correct?”

your eyes snapped in his direction. “huh? oh yes! yes it is.”

he pursed his lips, an uncertain look on his face as you faltered and furrowed your brows.

“what ken? what’s wrong?”

“is it the same host and organization as last time?”

“umm…” you pulled your phone out from your purse and scrolled to the initial invite you had received through a friend, perfectly manicured nails tapping away. “uh huh! i’m pretty sure… how come?”

“i don’t think it’d be very wise to go… you got extremely inebriated the last time we went.”

you snorted and waved him off. “that’s because it was my friends birthday ken. i was celebrating!”

“you barfed in a bush as soon as we got home.”

“part of the experience!”

kento shook his head and sighed through his nose, a small smile on his face as he peaked over at you from the side.

“rowdy little girl.”

little girl.

and you felt an unpleasant tug at your heart, you pursing your lips and wanting to defy what he called you.

“i was fine after though, was i not?”

you suddenly grabbed his hand and dropped it down on your exposed thigh, his rough hand making contact with your skin as he accidentally jerked the steering wheel and looked at you with bewildered eyes, you only throwing your head back and laughing.

“what?” you spoke in between giggles. “i’m cold! and your hand’s so warm—”

“honey—”

“your job is to take care of me right?” you sweetly smiled, and he felt a flutter of familiar yet confusing affection swirl up in his chest at the sight. “and you’re doing just that!”

kento cleared his throat and nodded, hand staying on your thigh and you giddy on the inside as he held it.

“just know that i have a blanket in the back in case my hand doesn’t suffice.” he mentioned, pulling up to a gated community. “the weather is a bit colder these days.”

your eyes softened, staring at the side of his chiseled jaw and face as he exchanged a few words with the security guard at the front, flashing his ID before the guard gave him the all clear and muttered something over his walkie talkie, the gates slowing sliding open as a result.

“why do you have a blanket in the back ken?” you asked softly and looked down, the tip of your index finger tracing over the prominent veins on the back of his hand.

“for you.” he replied. “you get cold frequently.”

you grinned.

“awww you remembered!—”

you unbuckled your seatbelt, jumped up from your seat, and flung your arms around his neck and practically stuffed his cheek up against your chest as you gushed, kento’s eyes blinking wide eyed and cheeks fucking flaring as he tried to keep steady hands on the wheel and not swerve into the garbage bins in front of the designated mansion, music already blaring through and seeping through the vents of the car as he fumbled to shift the gear into park— stiffening the hell out of his neck and not daring to turn his head even the slightest in your direction in fear of facing your breasts head on.

“i— i appreciate the sentiment sweetheart—”

you pulled back a tiny bit, your arms still tightly locked around his neck but giving him enough space to turn his head to look up at you now, your twinkling hyper eyes shining even through the darkness of the car, kento almost forgetting about the close proximity between the two of you entirely, and also almost forgetting about how this was— regrettably… considered to be inappropriate.

he was your bodyguard, he was supposed to protect you, not think about the way your perfect smile right now was so incredibly soul crushing and doing it in just the right way too— suffocating his entire being as he tried hard again, in real time, to kick those disrespectful thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on what he was meant to be doing and thinking… all of which pertained to his guidance for you, and your safety, most of all.

but you were beautiful. 

there was no denying that.

“you know me best out of anyone ken.”

and he did. he truly truly did.

but to kento, you were that forbidden fruit, cast away up into the highest of branches and dangling off of the tallest most unreachable tree of all— glimmering against the sun, magnificent… waiting to be picked by the person who dared to and claim it as their own without a single worry of the troubles that came with ravishing it.

but claiming and ravishing that forbidden fruit definitely came with it’s dire consequences, and kento nanami was an honorable man. 

if he were to give in to his pulsing desires for you, desires that he couldn’t even exactly make sense of as he continued to manifest total and utter blockage in his mind to prevent those thoughts from seeping through, not only would he deal with the embarrassing repercussions with your father— his boss, but inevitably drag you down with him too, as he knew your father has always been rather harsh with you.

and you didn’t deserve to be dragged down just because he couldn’t control his emotions.

you frowned, tilting your head as you assessed kento’s strange far off look.

“ken?” you asked. “kenny ken?”

“eh?” he blinked rapidly. “oh i’m sorry y/n. i was… thinking.”

“thinking?” 

you let him go and sat back in your seat, the warmth from your arms dissipating and the goosebumps around his neck prominent now by the chilliness of the car.

“thinking about what?” you quipped, smiling again. “about meee?”

night and day.

“i’m afraid not.” he switched off the ignition and held the keys in his hand. “more about how you should be at home and in bed and most definitely not here.”

you pouted, slumping in your seat as you watched him get out of the car and walk over to your side, opening your door for you and offering a hand for you to take.

“but ken i’m helping a friend.” you took his hand and carefully stepped out, him closing the door behind you as you began walking up the sidewalk with kento following close behind you, the car beeping and flashing its lights to signify he had locked it.

“honey, your friend is a grown woman.” you both walked up the steps and continued down the long wide driveway, other guests traveling alongside you towards the mansion. “she doesn’t need moral support from you to attend an event.”

“yeah and i don’t need a bodyguard for every little thing i do, do i?” you countered, slowing down your steps a little and nudging your shoulder with his. “hm?”

he gave you a deadpanned look.

“actually, you do.”

you scoffed. “no i do not.”

the two of you entered through the grand entrance— doors already open and with a set of security guards on each side as you passed them, kento’s already alert senses amplified now that you both were in an unpredictable loud environment such as this, and with way too many people for kento to keep track of besides yourself as he scanned the area, ticking the usual and automatic tiny boxes in his head that indicated the area was alright for the time being.

“if my friend is such a grown woman, then so am i!” you yelled over the music as you walked through the mansion to get to the pool area outside, passing by several caterers and butlers with small appetizer dishes on silver trays or champagne glasses, you taking one as your gaze switched between person to person to see if you could try and find anyone you recognized.

kento shook his head a little.

contrary to your popular belief, you never acted like a grown woman sometimes— constantly rebellious and spontaneous with no hesitations to do anything remotely reckless… and that worried him to absolutely no end as he was living in constant stress over something happening to you— something that he could easily prevent and steer you away from because that’s what he was fucking there for.

but you were always against it, and he didn’t know why when it was simply just protection.

upon entering the pool area, your eyes lit up at the rowdy scene before you— party guests jumping into the pool in full fledged clothing or throwing each other in, the bar at the end of the backyard lively and busy with multiple individuals already drunk off of their minds as they clumsily passed by you and nearly tumbled you over, kento each time quick to grab your shoulders and gently pull you away so they’d just about miss you and continue on.

and the minute he caught sight of your group of friends off to the side of the bubbling jacuzzi right before you did, every single one of them already inebriated and rambunctious, he knew he was in for a night of chasing you around and getting you to sober up a little to refrain yourself from running across the lawn in only your undergarments like the last party you both attended.

“y/n! hi!” one of your friends slightly slurred, the one with the ‘crisis’, reaching behind her to grab a red solo cup of god knows what and passing it to you. “here! i just got some from the kitchen!”

“what is it?” you laughed, on the verge of placing the brim to your lips when kento suddenly nudged you, gently prying it away from your fingers and lifting it up to his nose for inspection, you playfully rolling your eyes as you turned back to your friend.

“dunno!” she shrugged, flashing you a wobbly grin. “it’s a mix of tequila aaanddd… cranberry tonic! yeah!”

“smells awfully strong.” kento muttered in your ear, passing the cup back to you. “just moderate your intake.”

“okay dad.” you mocked, the little side smile on your face never failing to deactivate any further scoldings from him about how you shouldn’t drink that mix and maybe get something else, him deciding to just let you have fun regardless of the work he was about to be put through… as it was hard for kento to say no to you at times anyways.

you brought the rim back to your lips and took a sip, your face immediately scrunching up and gagging.

“the fuck is this?” you placed a hand over your mouth. “tastes nothing like cranberry and just straight vodka—”

you ended up drinking the entire cup and two more fills after that, kento each time gently advising you not to and that you’d had enough, but you only pouting and bratty and defying him with every attempt he made at pulling the drink away from you, a water bottle in hand that he’d snagged from one of the coolers as he swiftly moved through the twists and turns of the crowd to stay caught up with you, a skill he was an expert at at this point considering how often you disappeared from his line of sight.

“sweetheart please—” kento caught you by the waist just as you were about to literally jump in the pool, you giggling and hiccuping as he dragged you away. “let’s take a seat for a moment alright? you need to drink water.” 

“what i need is a teeny weeny kiss from you ken!”

he faltered, eyes dropping to the ground as he continued to half drag and half carry your body to a nearby table away from the commotion by the pool, setting you down on a chair.

“you need water.” he pushed as he knelt down on a knee in front of you, unscrewing the cap. “and i’m forbidding you from attending any events like this for a month.”

“a month?!” you whined, head dramatically falling back in desperation. “but why? what did i do?!”

“i told you to moderate your intake.” he gently grabbed your jaw and brought the water bottle to your lips, carefully holding it up for you to drink. “you were just about to jump in the pool darling and ruin your dress.”

lowering the bottle, your cheeks cutely puffed up with water as you shook your head side to side.

you swallowed. “lies. i was simply walking!”

he fixed the strap of your dress that was halfway sliding off, pulling it back over your shoulder.

“yes into the pool.” he brought the water bottle back to your lips and you drank some more before he lowered it again. “you need to be more careful y/n.”

you pouted. “are you mad at me ken?”

“not mad just quite stressed—”

“pull my dress up and spank me then.”

kento slapped a hand over his eyes and shook his head, cheeks buzzing pink at your ludicrous statement.

“don’t say things like that honey.”

“and why not?” you tilted your head, pearly white teeth glimmering against the warm lights of the backyard as he dropped his hand. “thought you loved me.”

“please sober up.” he breathed out exhaustedly, heart hammering against his fucking chest as he made you drink water again. “before you say something silly again—”

you abruptly pulled back and a few droplets of water dribbled down your chin, kento quick to grab the handkerchief in his suit to pat you dry as you narrowed your eyes.

“you think loving me is silly?” you muttered, a little slur at the end of your sentence.

“of course not darling.” he spoke softly, placing the handkerchief down on the table behind you. “the other thing you said was silly—”

“what— spanking me?” you lit up again. “but it’s hot. and i want it. you should do it once we get to the car—”

kento slapped a hand over your mouth this time, wide frantic eyes looking around to see if anyone had heard your loud lewd blabbering, his face absolutely fucking red at this point as he tried not to vividly imagine what you had just said… and pathetically failing at it too.

“enough. we’re going home. you have brunch with the monroe’s tomorrow.”

“nuh uh!”

you pulled his hand away from your mouth and gripped the edges of your chair, trying to cement yourself to it as he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled and tugged, you laughing when he’d manage to of course— lift you up… but the chair along with it as well.

“let go please.”

“nope!”

“i said let go y/n.”

“if you give me a kiss!”

kento put you back down and sighed.

“you are unbelievably inebriated.”

“and you are unbelievably handsome.” you cheesed as you got closer, your nose brushing against his and kento’s breath catching in his throat, stiffening up.

“darling you don’t know what you’re saying—”

“yes i do.” you spoke, endearingly nudging your nose softly with his and kento’s eyes warming at the act. “you’re gods favorite.”

hopeless hopeless girl…

his eyes sinfully flickered down to your pretty lips, plushy and delightful as they perfectly stretched in such a way to form a striking smile that always sent men to their knees wherever you both went, him baring witness to it all as your bodyguard… and him included— falling to his knees over you.

for kento was just as hopeless as you.

but he was better at ignoring it until it became this puzzling blur in his brain that confused the ever living shit out of him.

“let’s go home.”

his breath fanned against your lips and you softly shook your head.

“kiss me then we’ll go.”

kento’s forehead fell against yours, eyes closing in borderline pain as his big hands came up to cup your cheeks, your own eyes loopily widening with overactive exciting thoughts over what was about to transpire.

if he was about to kiss you… could this mean he didn’t view you as just a client? as a little girl? but a woman?

was he considering it? did you have a chance? was he actually about to fucking kiss you?—

kento sharply breathed in and turned your head slightly to the side, planting his lips hard on your cheek and him unmoving for a moment, you still wide eyed and shocked as your cheek mushed up against the force of his mouth.

he pulled back with a smack! and stood, hand extending out for you to take.

“ready now?”

your fingers slowly came up to the side of your face in a complete daze, because though it wasn’t a full blown kiss, the linger of his lips was still there even after the gesture was long over, your little cheek tingling and warm.

you nodded, taking his hand and attempting to stand but reeling over as you did, your head in complete drunken disarray as kento’s arms quickly shot out and caught you from falling face first on the ground.

“i can’t—” you giggled, hiccuping between each laugh. “i can’t walk ken. and my feet hurt.”

“i’m aware.” he sighed, sitting you back down on the chair and kneeling again, grabbing your ankle.

“what are you doing?” you asked, watching the way he propped up your foot and tugged at the clasp on your heels, carefully sliding it off and beginning to do the same with the other.

“you’re in pain, yes?” he slipped your other heel off and stood, placing your heels on a nearby table before positioning himself next to you, sliding a hand under your knees. “put your arms around my neck sweetheart.”

you did as told, your little heart singing happy drunken tunes over him being such a gentleman and taking care of you in the way that he was, you knowing in the morning you’d regret it and be embarrassed, but choosing to bask in the moment for the meantime and deal with the horrific hungover consequences later.

kento easily lifted you with only one fucking arm supporting you under your knees as you held on, his other hand grabbing your heels before weaving through the other tables and venturing out of the pool area, everybody else too inebriated to care or notice some big bulky man carrying you out through the backyard and inside the mansion, your head resting against his chest.

“are you alright?” he asked, taking a quick glance down at you as he reached the grand entrance to exit. “do you feel ill?”

“no i’m okay.” you smiled. “just thinking about the fact that you’re a cheater.”

he chuckled. “a cheater? in what way?”

kento carefully stepped down the steps and began his walk across the spacious lawn back to the car, you tightening your grip on his neck and wanting him to hold you like this forever.

“the deal was for a kiss.”

“and i gave you one.” he softly smiled, squeezing your thigh a little in emphasis.

“on the cheek!” you retorted. “i wanted one on the mouth.”

kento blushed furiously and looked away, trying to straighten himself up as he walked down the sidewalk with you in his arms.

“you didn’t specify darling.”

“yeaahhh right.” you mumbled, watching the lights of his car flash up ahead as it unlocked by the click of kento’s keys, him coming up to the passenger side and opening the door. “just say you’re repulsed by me.”

he scoffed. “you’re saying silly things again.”

“the proof is in the pudding.”

kento carefully bent and set you down on your seat, placing your heels next to you on the floor and straightening out the skirt of your dress for you. 

“the proof is that you’re drunk. i’m not making any moves like that when you’re not in the correct state of mind.”

you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth. “are you saying you would have? if i was sober? did you bring my water with you? i need to drink it right now where is it—”

“dear god i did not say that.” he closed the door and came round to the other side, an amused little smile on his lips as he got in. “and i’m sorry but i left it behind.”

“kentooo!” you whined. “now how else are you supposed to kiss me?”

he shakily pressed the ‘on’ button for the ignition and looked away, your bold words and requests and moves serving as sheer torment to him as they one after the other kept being thrown at his face, him aware this is how you usually were anyways, but ten times unbelievably worse now that you were intoxicated.

and kento was growing weaker.

“i’m not supposed to do anything.” he backed out of the parking space and sped off. “and it’s nearly four in the morning y/n. you have brunch with the monroe’s at ten and you’re supposed to be up by eight.”

you groaned, head dropping back against the headrest as you crossed your arms. 

“i never wanted to go to that in the first place.” you muttered. “the monroe’s and their girl friends and whoever else is going are a bunch of boring bitches. all they talk about is what their daddies just bought them.”

the yearly monroe brunch was a way for you and the other daughters of your fathers various business partners to bond and maintain connections, some sort of peace treaty between them all so long as their little preppy daughters were kept satisfied and spoiled, your father forcing you to go every year and demanding you to keep friendships with them all, insisting that it would serve beneficial to him with their parents and help nourish the business even more than it already was.

you genuinely liked the monroe daughters and the rest of the girls at first, sixteen year old you seeking their validation and acceptance for years and constantly following after every little thing that they did, afraid of slipping up and landing in their rotten graces as soon as you did anything that would upset them… until they started badmouthing kento.

after that you didn’t give a fuck. 

because anyone that was so willing as to talk bad about such a respectful and kind man as kento to you, was someone who immediately feel in your rotten graces, each and every one of them doing so the minute they started calling him weird for constantly following you around, putting him down for it and saying he should find something better to do than be your bodyguard, and that you didn’t need such high class protection and deeming it unnecessary.

whether they were jealous of the fact that you had a bodyguard and they didn’t was mystery to you, but ever since that day, you despised the yearly monroe brunch, you now aware of who they truly were and realized how blind you were to it just because you were seeking their validation— wanting nothing to do with them from that point forward and begging your father to just let you skip out and that they were better off without you there anyways.

but he never listened.

kento laughed, nodding curtly over what you said. “although true, you still have to go honey.”

“i don’t know why my father can’t just piss off.” you sighed and looked out the window, cars zooming past you as he drove down the freeway. “i really don’t see the point in me going.”

“you’re an important asset.” he spoke. “all of the daughters coming together is tradition.”

“what— to sit there and drink tea and eat muffins? stupidest tradition i’ve ever heard ken.”

he chuckled, reaching over to pat your thigh and your cheeks going pinky as he did so, your drunken mind still somehow clearly recalling when he had his warm hand on you earlier in the car prior to the party.

he went to retract his hand and you quickly stopped him, timidly placing it back on your thigh and settling your hand over his big one, the both of you nervously avoiding eye contact and choosing not to say anything.

kento understood wholeheartedly why you hated going to the monroe brunch so much, for he wasn’t particularly a fan of hearing them talk for hours about who’d they just dumped or what they’d just bought, and he sympathized with you— really, your father although a man he admired for his work ethic and sought after for his approval, was unrighteously stoic with you and always dismissed your thoughts and opinions, the fact saddening kento whenever he witnessed it first hand.

“you’ll be alright.” he spoke up quietly again, noticing the way you were dozing off a little in your seat. “it’s just for brunch. you won’t have to worry about seeing them again until next year.”

“you mean until the dinner party we’re hosting next week.” you sleepily muttered, eyes closed as both of your hands laid over his that was on your thigh, holding it almost as if you were afraid that kento would pull away, his eyes softening at the thought.

“ah, that’s right.” he pulled into your gated community, the security guard already recognizing kento and his car as he merely waved and pressed the button to open the gate, driving through once it did entirely. “i had forgotten.”

“mmm..” you hummed, and he smiled, facing the road again and turning the wheel with every curve and turn of your neighborhood, your dimly lit mansion coming into view eventually and him pulling up to park in your grandiose driveway next to you car, turning off the ignition.

you laid still and pretty in your seat, chest slowly rising and falling as you softly breathed through your nose, you in a drunken slumber as kento quietly got out of the car and went over to your side, opening your door.

“darling.” he whispered, shuffling an arm under your knees and the other on your back. “i need to carry you up, okay? hold onto me please.”

you mumbled incoherently and did so, your arms limply wrapping around his neck as he carried you out of the car and shut the door with a push from his leg, locking his car and the little horn going off again as he hoisted you up, walking up the stone path of your driveway and up to the grand double doors— one of your housekeeping staff already there holding the door open for you both, them also used to your late night partying and shenanigans.

“thank you.” he whispered gratefully as he passed, and they nodded, locking up the house behind you as kento continued on up the staircase and down the spacious hallway, his dress shoes clicking against the shiny flooring and echoing across the silence as he reached your bedroom.

he carefully set you down on your bed once inside, you groggily rubbing your eyes as he stepped back and over to your large vanity, rummaging through your things and drawers while knocking a few nail polishes and perfumes over— various clatterings and kento cursing under his breath over the noise, it making you sleepily giggle.

“what are you looking for ken?” you whispered, one of your eyes tiredly peeking open.

“your— ah… i’m afraid i can’t remember what it’s called—”

he gestured to his face. “you remove your makeup with it sweetheart.”

you closed your eye again. “oh my wipes..? they’re in the bottom drawer to your left.”

he opened the corresponding drawer and reached in, taking out your makeup remover wipes and walking back over to you, peeling open the packing and sliding an individual white wipe out, you lifting a hand out to grab it but stopping once he moved it away from you.

you drowsily looked up at him, about to speak until he took your chin in between his fingers and tilted you up, him bending a bit and lifting his hand to wipe off your makeup, delicately removing it with precision as you tiredly let a small smile grow on your lips.

“i can do it ken it’s okay.”

he shook his head, you closing your eyes as he wiped off your mascara. “oh it’s alright you’re exhausted… and i’ve seen you do it quite a few times.”

you peaked your other eye open, his handsome face so unforgettable against the moonlight streaming through your balcony doors that your little sleepy heart started gushing over literally just who he was, your head leaning into his touch.

“kay…”

he finished wiping the rest of it off after a minute, tossing it into your little bin under your vanity desk before walking over to your walk-in closet and disappearing for a few moments, coming back out with one of your silk baby blue pajama sets in hand, offering it out to you.

“change please.” you sluggishly took the set from him and nodded. “i’ll be just outside—”

“no it’s okay.” you stood and reached for the hem of your dress. “you can stay—”

you pulled up your dress with no fucks given and kento’s eyes bulged open, immediately slapping a hand over his eyes and spinning around with his heart thumping on overdrive, the image of your perfect body adorned with a lacy white bra and panties a hard one to try and— unfortunately— forget for the sake of respecting your privacy and the most intimate parts of yourself.

you giggled and kento shook his head in desperation, placing a hand on his hip.

“don’t do things like that honey.” he scolded gently, a hand still over his eyes as you changed. “at least wait until i avert my attention—”

“you don’t wanna see?” you pouted, finishing by buttoning up your top and tugging at the sleeve of his suit for him to turn around. “it’s all for you ken.”

for— for—

oh dear god help him.

“it’s time to sleep.” he reached around you and pulled back the covers of your bed, you whining. “come on you have brunch with the monroe’s—”

you grumbled and climbed on, dropping yourself on the mattress and shuffling under your various fluffy blankets and sheets, him helping you in pulling them over you until they were settled comfortably by your chest.

“kento.”

“hm?” he hummed, still fiddling with your blankets and basically tucking you in, you finding it incredibly sweet.

“thank you for always taking care of me.”

he stopped, eyes flickering to yours before a soft close lipped smile spread across his face.

“of course darling.” he patted your head. “it’s what i’m here for.”

you knew what he was actually supposed to be there for was only for your protection— to only clock in when you went to events and clock out the second said event was over and done with and you were back home safe and sound.

except kento clocked in the moment your eyes opened for the day, and clocked out as soon as they closed again at night, him by your side through everything in your life and not just for special events, but making sure you had had enough to eat and that you weren’t sick after you spent the day out without a jacket (much to his pestering), that you finished your homework when you were in school and helped you with it as best as he could, and that he was your shoulder to cry on whenever your father yelled at you over something idiotic again— all in all taking care of you like you thought a lover would do for their most treasured thing.

and you hoped you were kento’s most treasured thing.

he was yours, after all.

“i like when you call me darling.” you murmured softly. “and honey. and sweetheart.”

kento swallowed and blushed, thankful that it was sort of dark in your room and that you couldn’t see how pink in the face he actually was over something so minimal.

“i’m glad.” he replied. “you’d let me know if it ever makes you uncomfortable correct?”

you quickly shook your head. “it never makes me uncomfortable ken… ever.”

he nodded, smiling in satisfaction.

“you know what does make me uncomfortable?”

he faltered, brows furrowing in concern.

“what honey?”

“the fact that you still haven’t kissed me on the lips—”

he sharply breathed in and leaned back to stand upright, you giggling and protesting as you flung your arms around his neck before he could, bringing him roughly back down to you and basically pulling him on top of you as kento let out a little oof at the force.

he planted his palms flat on your mattress, trying to lift himself up a bit but unable to due to the astronomical grip you had on him.

“y/n i’m crushing you let me—”

“so?”

“you won’t be able to properly breathe—”

“and? this is the way to go!”

kento laughed into your neck then, managing to lift himself up at least a little bit  to look at you.

“silly girl.” he murmured, and you grinned.

how stunning.

his eyes dangerously switched to your lips, and you noticed this, your heart skipping a small beat in your chest.

“ken.”

“yes?”

“what do you view me as.”

his gaze shifted and locked with yours, his brows pinching together.

“what do you mean honey?”

“like—” you pursed your lips, looking away to the side in embarrassment. “do you see me as just… a client? or just a friend? or like a little girl who doesn’t know how to do anything? or spoiled?”

“a client?” he repeated. “not at all that’s— an awfully wrong term for what you are.”

your head snapped in his direction.

“really?”

he sat up, sitting himself down on the edge of your bed next to you and you scooching over.

“you are spoiled.” he continued, chuckling once he saw the hopeful expression on your face fall and turn sour. “but it doesn’t mean that you’re incapable of doing things… i’ve never once thought of you as such.”

you hummed in acknowledgement, relieved a little.

“do you see me as a woman?” you asked softly.

he looked at you confusedly.

“well— of course. that’s what you are, aren’t you?”

“no i mean—” you sighed, struggling to get the words out as a blush rose to your cheeks. “like a woman. like the kind that makes you want to…”

you faltered, and he waited patiently for you to continue.

“like the kind of woman you’d want to kiss and things… like— like the kind you’d see yourself falling in love with… or am i just— a friend?”

kento froze.

were you still drunk?

“sweetheart it’s not wise to talk about things like this when you’re inebriated please rest—”

“i’m not!” you frantically shook your head. “i sobered up a long time ago…”

dear god.

he can’t answer your question. he can’t answer your question without straight up lying to you just so he can keep that boundary of respect he had for you and your father, to keep the vow kento had with him as your protector, as your guide…

but kento nanami wasn’t a liar.

and kento nanami loved you— a feeling he had idiotically mistaken for confusion when it was actually the plain and utter truth, for what he felt for you was clearer than anything else in his life, and absolutely nothing about it was ever confusing like he swore up and down before that it was.

he’d known…. he’d always known. and that’s perhaps why he took the bodyguard position in the first place without a fret to your father.

to stay by your side. 

to make sure you were safe… with him.

but did he dare?… did he dare to take the pretty forbidden fruit he had tried so hard for years to stay clear from? to leave it glimmering and healthy to flourish on its own no matter how badly he wanted to harvest it and claim for himself?

“i—”

he hesitated, your beady doe eyes looking at him so hopefully that it clenched his heart without mercy.

“i love you…” he spoke softly. “but i don’t think you being with me would do you justice.”

you blinked, unsure if you should take that positively or negatively—

“but i love you still… you know that.”

you looked at him.

“but love in what way?” you responded.

because love you in the way of a friend or family member sure, and you knew kento did at least that much and wouldn’t have spent so much time with you since the ages of eleven and fourteen if otherwise.

but did he love you?

“love… in the way that makes me want to kiss you.” he tugged at the watch on his wrist, referencing to what you had said before. “and love in the way that makes me want to give everything i have to you honey.”

because he has. he’s been.

“really?” you whispered, the wind completely knocked out of your lungs as he picked up his head to look at you, nodding.

kento opened his arms out for you then and you slowly pushed the covers off of you, crawling over and extending your arms to wrap around his abdomen, his around your shoulders while you tucked your face into his chest.

“but i don’t think you being with me would do you justice my love…” he repeated, and you frowned, already feeling your bottom lip wobble.

“why?”

“i have too much respect for you and your father.” he explained, caressing your hair through his fingers. “and i feel that i’m taking advantage of my position by being with you always… that i’m not giving you a chance to know what it’s like to be with someone else—”

“i don’t want anyone else.” you cut him off. “i don’t need to explore to figure that out ken.”

you looked up at him, cheek mushed up against him. “you’re with me always too… do you need a chance to know what it’s like to be with someone else?”

“no.” he shook his head. “no i absolutely do not.”

you giggled softly. “see? then why would i need one?”

he stared down at you softly, a warm smile that could kill millions if he so let it on his face, and you blushed. 

“i guess you’re right sweetheart.”

kento continued to run his big fingers through your hair, you dozing off a little at the soothing feeling.

“i don’t think your father will be very happy knowing i love you.”

you grumbled. “who cares what that old fart thinks—”

he snorted, lightly tapping your shoulder in a form of scolding, you laughing and holding him tighter.

“he doesn’t have to know for now…” you murmured. “and honestly i didn’t even know you loved me so i think we’re okay—”

“i’m sorry?” he blinked. “i thought i made it somewhat… clear?”

“no!” you countered. “you rejected every move i made ken… you had me basically begging for you.”

his brows pinched in guilt. “i’m sorry my love… i was doing it more for you than for me i— … i didn’t have any ill intent behind it.”

“it’s okay ken.” you smiled cutely, pulling back and propping yourself up by your palms on your mattress, leaning and planting a sweet kiss to his cheek. “though you could’ve just told me you had a begging kink i would’ve understood and begged you to put your fingers in my—”

kento’s eyes widened and he shut you up with a hand over your mouth, your muffled giggles seeping through as he shook his head.

“you have the most vulgar mouth.”

you took his wrist and brought it away, your lips coming next to his ear.

“do something about it then.”

he stilled.

“or do you want me to say what other things i want you to do to me?”

“enough you need to rest—” he placed his hands on your waist with the intent to pull you back and lay you down to sleep… but he just couldn’t do it, his grip shakily tightening instead.

“what i need…” you slid your hands agonizingly slow up his chest and around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his with hot steamy desperate breaths fanning across each others faces. “is to know what it’s like to have your fingers in my mouth ken…”

“darling please—”

“—i wanna lick all over them—”

he respects you... dear god kento respects you he— he couldn’t possibly indulge in—

“—so i can show you how good i can suck and choke on your cock—”

kento mushed your cheeks together with his fingers and swallowed your lips up, you letting out a little squeak of surprise as his other unoccupied arm locked around your waist and pulled you flush against him, him hungrily kissing you and gulping down your humming moans of satisfaction as you hurriedly swung a leg over his thighs, straddling him.

you disconnected from his lips and pulled back, taking his hand and bringing it up to your mouth as you pushed him down on the mattress with your unoccupied one, kento looking up at you so hot and bothered and astonished as you hovered over him, plump precious lips wrapping around his index and ring finger and sensually sliding it deeper and deeper in your mouth across your wet tongue.

“jesus sweetheart…” he breathed out, eyes entirely transfixed on the way your lips closed around his fingers entirely and sucked, your head pumping slowly and you delighted over how hard he felt underneath his slacks over something as just you sucking on his fingers.

“m’gonna suck your dick.” you spoke with a mouthful of his digits, and he sat up a little.

“my darling you don’t— you don’t have to do that it’s alright—”

you slid his fingers out of your mouth and pouted. “but i want to… unless you don’t want me to? or do you prefer someone else to do it—”

“what? stop that.” he shook his head, reaching up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear as you snickered, his hand coming down to cup your cheek. “i’m just worried about keeping you up… you have to get ready in a couple of hours.”

you shrugged, giving him a little grin.

“if it’s you and your big dick keeping me up i could care less.”

you swung your thighs off of his lap and stood momentarily, dropping down to your knees and positioning yourself in between his legs— kento’s rounded eyes and shaky breaths making you laugh a little as you reached for the buckle of his belt, tugging the clasp open and him helping you in slipping it off before reaching in his pants, a trembling but needy hand pulling out his thick cock and slowly pumping it.

kento would’ve never thought you’d be kneeling in between his legs and about to do something he’d only fleetingly thought of, the sinful images quickly grabbed by him before he could materialize them in his head any further and tossed in the trash without looking back, embarrassed and awkwardly flustered that he’d thought of such a thing when you were usually just sitting there on your vanity desk dolling yourself up, or simply speaking to him.

he would’ve never thought that the questions of being something more to you than just your bodyguard, would actually actualize itself, your pretty lips beginning to wrap around the tip of his cock and all he can think about is you and how many days he spent yearning for you, confusing it for uncertainty, and lying to himself before giving in to the fact that he did love you. 

and very much so.

to kento, it was a privilege to undergo this intimate experience given by gracious you, and he only wished he didn’t push it away for so many years and dismissed your obvious attempts.

for what was happening now, was heavenly compared to the fleeting thoughts he had tossed in the trash prior… and your pace was rapid, your deprived little mouth that had begged for him time and time again slurping the ever living soul out of him as he clenched his jaw to keep his moans in, afraid of your father or any of the other housekeeping staff hearing what was filthily happening inside your bedroom— his face crossed over in pleasurable shock at how messy and drooly you were all over his dick without even allowing yourself the chance to breathe as you sucked. 

“honey—” he heaved, swallowing hard as he gathered your hair up into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face. “s—slow down or you’ll choke—”

you didn’t listen, your thighs clenching together to ease yourself a little as you sunk your mouth down and gagged, the tip of his cock lodged in the back of your throat so deliciously that he let out a string of rare curses from his lips.

you slurped back up and pulled off of his length with a pop, you sticking your tongue out and smiling too as you tapped his girthy dick on your tongue teasingly.

“but i want to choke ken…” you placed an open mouthed slutty kiss on the side. “and i’d like you to fuck my mouth too please—”

“shit—” he cleared his throat, his balls feeling awfully full and heavy as you parted your lips and took him in again. “but i could potentially harm you—”

you pulled off again. “kento i don’t care just use me or i’ll make you—”

he quickly gathered your soft hair again, leaned back on an elbow and shoved you back down, bucking his hips up and hitting your uvula so hard that you choked, eyes immediately watering and you moaning as he continued to buck his hips up and force you down, sloshing gurgling noises from you fueling his every being with ecstasy, throwing his head back and eyelids fluttering closed.

“you have such a dirty mouth sweetheart…” he grunted. “where did you learn that from? huh?”

you tried to respond, his relentless hip thrusting and filling your mouth up preventing you from getting anything out besides choking noises and spit, kento picking his head back up and looking at you with half lidded eyes.

“i hope you’re not speaking to other little dumb boys with it and teasing them the way you tease me…”

you tried to shake your head no and get it across that you absolutely were not— that you were physically repulsed by any other man making moves on you in your life because they were never him… but his big cock stuffing your throat was drowning out your every attempt so good that you couldn’t.

“no?” a little dazed smile played at his lips, his abdomen tightening and signifying that he was about to blow his entire pent up load in your mouth. “good honey… i don’t want you wasting your time.”

he bucked his hips up faster and forced your head down deeper, his panting and low grumbling moans making you fucking wild as you tried your best to take all of him and suck him, tears from how many times you gagged and choked trickling down your cheeks and you not giving a single fuck and pushing through, noticing that kento’s increased fidgeting and gasping was a signal that he was probably close.

and when you felt him loosen his grip on your hair, gently trying to pry you off so that he could cum somewhere else and not in your throat like the little gentlemen that he was, you slipped your mouth down again and held yourself firm, lips pumping up and down as you jerked him alongside, kento running a hand down the side of his cheek with eyes screwed tightly shut.

“darling i feel—” he quickly sat up, his expensive watch glistening against the moonlight as his hand fell over his heart. “i feel my release let me—”

he pushed at your shoulders gently and you refused, continuing to suck him off and drive him to the edge until a low gutting groan left his lips, you squeaking as he suddenly went feral and pushed the back of your head down and filled your throat up with his cum, sputtering and swallowing down as much as you could while he held you there.

“christ i’m sorry—” he let you go and you came off of him, gasping for air and with a mix of cum and drool seeping down your chin as you fell back on your ass, your chest moving erratically as you tried to catch your breath.

kento immediately stuffed his dick back in his pants and zipped it up, standing and placing his hands on your waist as he easily picked you up off the floor and sat you down next to him on the bed, concerned tumblings over your well being falling from his mouth as he moved your disheveled hair away from your face.

“honey i can’t tell you how sorry i am…” he dug into his blazer for his handkerchief, your tongue lapping up the excess drool and cum from your chin as his cheeks went red over you doing that, quickly stepping in and wiping off the rest for you.

“sorry for what ken?” you hummed, your voice a little hoarse and making kento feel guiltier as he sighed, placing the handkerchief down on your nightstand. 

“for abusing your throat y/n…” he spoke gently, ushering you to bed again as he pulled back the covers. “i wasn’t letting you breathe—”

“but i liked it.” you countered softly, crawling to your pillow and planting a tender little kiss to his cheek on your way, settling under the covers. “i asked you to use me baby… and you did just that! good job!”

kento playfully rolled his eyes and brought your blankets up to your chest. 

“yes but i could’ve done it in a better way.”

“in a better way likeee…?” you grinned cheekily. “like sex? well then you should’ve just asked ken i can take off my—”

you sat up and began unbuttoning your top, kento’s hands shooting out and stopping you midway as he flusteredly buttoned it back up, you laughing.

“please sweetheart you need to rest… it’s nearly six in the morning.” 

you groaned and plopped back down on your pillow. “just tell the monroe’s i’m sick. i’d rather be getting dicked down by you than drinking tea with them—”

“alright okay okay—” he brought the covers back up over you with an amused shy smile. “we’ll talk more about it tomorrow. at the monroe’s.”

you huffed and turned your back to him, kento chuckling before leaning over and placing a delicate lingering kiss on your temple, a slow sleepy smile crossing your face as you relished in the fact that he actually loved you… your fear of him seeing you as nothing more than just a spoiled brat quickly dissipating from the second he uttered his bashful but yet authentic confession to you.

you had been living in absolute worry and defiance and frustrating yourself when that wasn’t necessary at all— kento was just a gentlemen, a man, and his apprehensions for indulging in something more between the two of you were very real and valid and you understood… but you also didn’t care, your stubborn unruly (and spoiled…) personality and mind wanting nothing more than just kento.

and as long as you had him by your side, you didn’t care about anything else.

even when you had only gotten a total of a solid two hours of sleep before you had to wake up for brunch with the monroe’s, you didn’t care about that either, because kento was the one to wake you up with a soft hand down your back and gentle murmurs that slowly eased you awake, him delivering you a warm cup of hot chocolate for the morning because he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of coffee, and the brunch itself not seeming so bad too since you knew he would be there with you through the entire thing.

your newest biggest fear now though… was what your father would say once you told him. 

“are these alright for your hair miss y/n?”

you stopped applying your eyeshadow for a moment and turned your body from your bench seat, a tray of cute shiny pearled up bobby pins that you had requested a week prior sitting neat and ready for you, you looking up and smiling sweetly at your housekeeping staff.

“oh yes! these are beautiful thank you!”

she nodded. “do you need help putting these in? or are you okay?”

“i’m okay! if anything i’ll just ask kento hehe.”

she laughed softly, nodding again before placing the little tray down next to you on your vanity desk and turning to leave, passing by none other than kento on her way as he peaked through your door, giving your housekeeping staff a polite smile and allowing her to pass through first, making his way inside your bedroom once she left.

a cup of misty tea was carefully placed next to you on your desk, and you moved your eyeshadow brush away from your face again to see kento looking down at you with a kind grin, you instantly brightening up and scooching down on your seat to give him a little room to sit with you.

“you didn’t have to bring me this ken you gave me hot chocolate this morning!”

your voice was still a bit hoarse, and that’s precisely why he brought you hot tea to begin with, sighing softly through his nose as he sat down on the other side of your bench next to you.

“it’s for your throat honey.” you continued to buff out your eyeshadow, putting your brush away upon finishing and reaching up to fiddle with your bun, taking a few strands out for a more candid look. “how do you feel?”

“horny.”

kento went into a coughing fit and you laughed, his reactions to your ludicrousy always being a favorite of yours as you pecked his cheek in apology.

“sorry sorry—” you wiped the gloss you got on him off of his chiseled cheek, picking up your little tea cup after and taking a sip. “i mean it’s true i want your dick inside of me but—”

“darling.”

“okay!” you set your tea cup down, grumpily took some of your pearl bobby pins from the tray and started sticking them in your hair. “just say you don’t want to have sex with me it’s fine—”

“that is not what i’m saying whatsoever—”

“you refused to have sex with me last night and you’re doing it again right now mph!—”

he clasped a big hand over your mouth and pulled your head in, bringing his lips to your ear.

“there is nothing more i want than to be inside of you and split your warm little cunt open.”

your eyes blew out in shock.

“so enough or you won’t get anything.”

he turned your head to make you look at him directly.

“understood?”

you quickly nodded and he lowered his hand, grabbing one of yours and kissing the back of it before standing and walking to the door.

“your father wants you in the car with me in twenty minutes sweetheart. i’ll wait for you there.”

you watched him click the door shut behind him and you spun your head back around to face the mirror, shakily moving some strands away and quickly fanning yourself in attempts at calming the fuck down, completely thrown off course on what you were supposed to do next in your routine as you couldn’t even remember what you had just done.

because kento had a secret feral mouth that you had no idea of until now…

and you wanted to hear it again.

eventually you gathered yourself up and finished putting the rest of your bobby pin pearls in your hair, shuffling around in your room looking for your chiffon scarf and breathing out a sigh of relief once you caught sight of its pastel yellow fabric, it matching your summery dress and peeking from your bed as you snatched it and looped it around your upper arms, the fabric falling gracefully in a low curve behind you as you grabbed your clutch and made your way out the door.

you didn’t know what energy to exactly expect from the car ride as you trotted down your staircase and out to his car, but you were nonetheless still surprised to see that kento carried on like he didn’t just mutter in your ear that he wanted to rearrange your guts and for you to behave, you blinking at him and perplexed when he just went on about what things to pay attention to that the girls say because he knew your father would ask you about that certain topic later, not wanting you to get in trouble and an earful if you weren’t able to answer his questions about it.

and you were still perplexed upon arriving at the monroe’s estate— their place of living the only thing you really liked about the yearly brunches, as they lived in what looked like a fucking english regency palace instead of the plain modernized mansions you were accustomed to (including yours…), and you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous each year of the wonderful labyrinth the monroe’s had, an endless place of history and poise that your own home very much lacked.

but as beautiful as their estate was, it still didn’t make up for the absolute bitches that lived in it.

“ken if you turn this car around right now i will do absolutely anything you say and not go to any parties for two months instead of just one—”

he chuckled loudly and shook his head, rounding their grand water fountain that sat extravagantly in the center of their lawn outside, other sleek cars already parked in the front. 

“it’s just for a couple of hours honey.” he parked the car and turned off the ignition, unbuckling his seatbelt. “just indulge in their conversations for a while… and listen please. your father will ask about it later.”

kento shut the door as you unbuckled your seatbelt, him opening yours on the other side while offering a hand out for you to take, you gratefully doing so with a stoic dead look on your face as you kept your eyes locked to the grabble below.

“they don’t even like me.” you muttered, flashing a polite smile to the housekeeping staff that was waiting up ahead, walking up the steps. “the monroe’s and their girl friends don’t even like each other they’re all just a bunch of fake—”

“y/n!”

both of your heads shot up just as you entered the estate, the eldest of the monroe sisters trodding up to you with a smile.

“it’s good to see you!” her eyes shifted to kento. “and with nanami. of course.”

bitch.

“mhm! yup!” you exchanged polite hugs and stepped back. “are the rest of the girls here?”

“yes they just got here actually! they’re all out in the garden with my sisters i was just heading there now!”

“great! i’ll see myself then, you go on ahead.” you tightly smiled, and she shrugged, bidding you a ‘see you later’ before disappearing off into the depths of her home, you slowly turning around with a stressed out twitch in your eye but faltering when kento wasn’t behind you like you thought he was.

you spun around as your tried to look for him, gaze scanning the area to find him and stopping once you did, your brows furrowing in confusion upon seeing him at the other side of the corridor staring at something.

you slowly began walking down, eyes locked on what he was looking at and it making you stop in your tracks next to him once you got close enough to see.

the wall in front of you was littered with wedding photos of the monroe sisters parents and the generations before— the ceremony, cake cutting, pictures of their first dance, and singular portraits of various brides and grooms on their wedding days scattered about with smiles on their faces, all things kento was just staring at without any indication in his expression that could let you know as to what was going on in his head.

“ken?” you asked softly, and he looked to you.

“oh i’m sorry.” he glanced at his watch. “are you ready to head out into the garden?”

“y—yeah…” your eyes switched back to the wall ahead.

“you were looking at their wedding photos?” you smiled. “they’re cute huh? i look at them too every time we come.”

he nodded, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you away from the wall and towards the garden again. 

“i was only curious.” he spoke. “there’s an awful large amount of them.”

you snorted in agreement and continued walking, feeling like there was something he was thinking about and not telling you— you looking to the garden entrance ahead then deciding to take a peek at kento again through the corner of your eye, you suddenly finding him looking over his shoulder at the portraits still.

and your eyes softened.

you slowed down and reached up, gently turning his head from the portraits to you.

“what’s wrong ken?” you looked over at the wall and back to him. “why do you keep looking at the pictures?”

“oh— i didn’t realize.” he readjusted his yellow lensed sunglasses and continued ushering you on with a hand on your back. 

you frowned.

“ken you wouldn’t look at something for that long without any reasoning behind it…”

“it’s truly nothing.” he responded simply, the both of you entering the garden now and drawing nearer to the long table set up amidst a bed of roses and daisies, the rest of the girls beginning to take their seats. “enjoy your brunch darling.”

“no! but—”

“it’s alright go say hello—”

“i’d rather actually rot—”

“hello y/n!”

you stopped fidgeting and dropped your arms, another tight smile on your face as you greeted the youngest monroe sister from the table, deciding to ignore kento’s chuckling from behind you and walk up, taking a seat with the rest of them and looking over the extravagantly set up table for anything to stuff your face with— it filled with little pastries and appetizers from top to bottom, a pretty strawberry shortcake cake in the middle surrounded by a tier of cupcakes and scones, little baked sandwich platters, and a porcelain tea cup set at each of your designated seats to enjoy.

you lightened up a little over all of the cute details and selections, forgetting that the monroe’s always knew how to put on a lovely brunch for all of you every year as you extended an arm, grabbing the nearest tea pot and carefully pouring the steaming liquid in your cup.

“girls! just the other day my father bought me another set of those diamond jewels from the franziska’s!”

that’s why you’d always forget.

the rest of them gushed and looked around the table to the eldest monroe, her neck clad in a pretty diamond necklace with matching earrings and rings.

“i know right? i had lost my previous set while swimming in the lake and my staff couldn’t find them.”

“oh that happened to me once.” one of their girlfriends piped up. “it was an exclusive emerald set from europe… only one in the entire world made!”

the rest of the girls gasped and murmured.

“i had my staff looking in the lake all day and night for three days until one of them finally found it!”

“oh thank god!” the middle monroe sister breathed out. “i would’ve absolutely hated to lose those! especially since they’re a one of a kind!”

“mhm yup! and you know what else actually? just the other day i found out francis— you know the girl from the faltis family?”

the girls faces turned knowing and they eagerly nodded.

“i found out she was asking up and down various jewelry shops and makers for my emerald set!”

they all gasped.

“you’re kidding!”

“no! the girl either wanted to copy me or make the same exact set to still copy me.”

“oh! that sleazy—”

you completely tuned them out beyond this point, your brain literally pulsing with the stupidest shit you had ever come across to hearing in your life, choosing to sit there and enjoy the weather and pretty cherry blossoms around you as you ate a cranberry scone and thought about the things you wanted to do for the weekend.

it’s not like you were a total opposite from the rest of the girls.

you too liked jewels and pretty things, luxury branded vehicles and a little bit of gossip here and there.

but it was the way they talked about it and handled each thing was what aggravated you the most.

they were ungrateful, greedy, and bitchy— no other girl that was a loose connection from them allowed to have the same jewelry set as theirs, the same set of friends as theirs, or the same set of dresses for your monthly bashes and dinner parties as theirs, turning utterly nasty if they so even got a glance of someone else having the same thing as them.

all things that were pointless and unrighteous to be upset about.

and just for the sake of keeping your father from putting your head on a stick, you remained civil with them and refrained from wearing anything similar to theirs at an event if you knew they would be in attendance.

but it was easy, for your taste was completely different than the lot of them, and you preferred pearls anyway over any kind of diamond or emerald or sapphire jewel piece.

“oh! and you know what i heard?” another girl friend spoke up. “akio from the corvus family has a little crush on miss y/n over there!”

kento’s ears perked up.

you jumped upon hearing your name, the rest of the girls gushing and ‘ooing’ as they turned their attention to you.

“i’m sorry what? who?”

“akio!” she laughed. “that man is obsessed with you! he asks for you at every single gathering.”

akio? 

akio… akio…

“the one that looks like a toad?”

the girls laughed at your comment, covering their mouths or learning forward as you just blinked at them, unaware of how what you said was so funny.

“oh you’re too much!” the youngest monroe waved you off. “yes him! any time he sees any of us at an event he always asks if you’re there with us.”

“you know what yes!” the eldest exclaimed. “i heard he wanted to strike up a proposal with your father! i think he already did!”

you dropped the cupcake you were holding.

and kento froze.

“a— a— propo—”

“oh my god congratulations y/n!”

“lucky you!”

“oh a bride already!—”

you turned in your seat to look at kento, but he was looking the other way, an unreadable expression on his face.

you turned back to the girls.

“is this a rumor or it’s actually happening?” you asked. “i don’t want to get married to him!”

they laughed again.

“why not?! yes he’s ugly but that man is loaded. has money to last him and you entirely without having to work a day in your lives!”

your blood ran cold, because anything you knew that was ordered by your father, was bible.

a housekeeping kitchen staff came around then and refilled a few platters of pastries and appetizers.

“ahh you’re so fortunate y/n!” one of the girl friends gushed. “i’d love to be wed to a man with money like akio… i could care less what he looks like!”

“you can have him.” you quickly sputtered, and they laughed again. “no seriously i don’t want him take him please—”

“oh don’t be silly!” the youngest monroe sister waved you off. “akio wants you. he’s kind of creepy about it too.”

“why me?!” you whined. “i’ve only spoken to him a handful of times—”

“why don’t you ask him at the dinner party you’re hosting next week? i’m pretty sure he’s going!” another girl friend spoke up. “i have a feeling he’s gonna propose to you there.”

you propped your elbow up on the table and placed a hand on your forehead in misery, feeling like you were living in a total nightmare.

“i’d honestly rather go broke.”

they all burst out laughing again.

what the hell was so funny?

“you’re too much!” the middle monroe sister gasped. “just give him a chance! once you see all the things he can buy for you, you’ll change your mind. plus… i think it’d be nice to have a break from mr. nanami don’t you think?”

you picked your head up.

“…kento?”

“uh huh!” the eldest continued. “god that must be exhausting having him around watching over you like that… it’s like he’s babysitting you. must be tiresome for him too.”

babysitting?

“with you and akio’s marriage i’m sure he’ll dismiss nanami’s services, and you can go your separate ways finally!”

“but—”

“and mr. nanami sure is handsome too.” another girl piped up with a hushed voice. “he’ll find a rich girl to settle down with in no time—”

“oh that’d be so great!—”

you abruptly stood, the silverware and tea cups clattering as you did so, the rest of them falling silent.

“sorry. excuse me.” you mumbled, eyes casted downward as you moved around your chair and off to the side, the girls shrugging and uncaring as they proceeded to babble on about other nonsense as you walked ahead, further and further away from the table and the chattering and through the garden, passing by several other flower beds of orchards and sunflowers until you reached the little duck pond by the end of the garden.

you stopped and sighed, bitterly crossing your arms and damning your father for ever discussing something as serious as marriage without your consent, marrying you off basically, or even lacking giving you a god damn warning before you came to brunch today— you and your father both knowing how much of a blabber mouth all of the girls were and how much they fed off of gossip like that.

you felt like a fucking idiot.

and who the hell was akio exactly? you knew of him and kind of had an idea of what he looked like, but you never really paid attention whenever he came up to talk to you at events or parties, his face almost entirely blurry in your mind besides the obvious features he had that did in fact make him look like a damn toad.

and another thing that was obvious too, was how creepy he was.

the only thing the monroe’s shit talking got right.

“honey?”

you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“hi ken.”

the rustling of grass filled the otherwise peaceful ambience as he stepped beside you, the both of you looking out ahead over the sparkling duck pond.

“are you alright?”

you nodded.

“i know you’re not alright i can see it.” he readjusted his lenses. “i’m assuming it has to do with the information the monroe’s told you?”

“i’m being married off ken.” you mumbled, eyes switching to him. “how are you so calm about this?”

“oh i’m not.” he spoke simply. “i’m quite agitated actually.”

you faltered, eyes falling down.

“i’ve always respected your father ever since we were young. and every choice he made with you i always agreed that it was what was best for you.”

you listened.

“but i can’t—” he paused. “… i can’t see how this is best for you. and i don’t know if it’s because i love you and i’m being selfish or if it actually is what’s best for you… so my thinking is— adhered.”

“how can marrying me off like the fucking renaissance period be what’s best for me?” you muttered, and he chuckled softly.

“and i love you, kento.” you continued. “my thinking’s also messed up.”

he placed a hand on your lower back and gently nudged you to him, you complying and falling into his side, wrapping your arms around him.

“it’s your choice y/n.” he spoke softly. “i know akio isn’t… the greatest. but he’s qualified to be your husband.”

your eyes widened.

“what are you saying? what about— what about you?”

he looked down, a sad smile on his face.

“i’ll stay for as long as you need me sweetheart.”

the ducks fluttering wings from the pond ahead filled the silence, tranquil splashes of water that followed after their every move with little quacks and hoots.

“so you’re just gonna give me away.” you mumbled. “just like that. easy peasy. who cares—”

“no—”

“i want you to be my husband ken.”

he gave you a deadpanned look.

“darling don’t joke about things like that—”

“oh i’m not joking.” you separated from him, frustration swirling in your chest. “why is it always considered a joke to you when i talk about being with you?”

he paused, sighing a little through his nose.

“i feel incredibly lucky that a woman like you could envision a life with me.” he spoke. “but i’m also aware that i’m very… boring. i’d feel it wrong to tie you down to a life without excitement like the one you live now.”

kento slipped an arm around your waist and brought you back in again.

“akio seems to be more like you… maybe you could learn to get along.”

your lip began to wobble, and kento’s eyes softened. 

“sweethea—”

“i don’t care about any of that stuff.” you sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “you of all people should know this—”

“don’t cry please you’ll ruin your hard work—”

kento dug into his blazer and pulled out a little handkerchief, carefully patting down your face.

“yes i like to go out a lot but so what? it’s not something that’s a part of me it’s just something i like to do.”

you took the handkerchief from him and pressed it into the corner of your eye. 

“you’re a part of me ken… and i want a life with you, i’ve known since i was freaking sixteen. i don’t need it spelled out for me.”

kento swallowed.

he’d always admired how stubborn you were, because to him it meant a strong mind and an ambitious drive in contrast to the negative connotation that that word seemed to have— things that were absolutely who you were and why he fell in love with you in the first place, and why you were such a gem.

but he worried still that you’d regret it and change your mind.

that he wouldn’t be able to live up to your lifestyle and your wants and needs, and that you’d get bored of him… leaving in the end.

kento doesn’t think he could bare the thought of you leaving him, much like how he couldn’t bare the thought of you marrying akio either.

but if it meant what was best for you, then so be it… except it wasn’t. 

he was sure of it.

“you’re a part of me as well.” he murmured. “i’m sure you know that—”

“i don’t.” you grumbled, and he chuckled. “you’re always switching up on me with your rejections and then your confessions i’m confused—”

kento silenced you with a kiss to your lips, his big hands on either sides of your face as your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into his built frame, your arms snaking around his neck and his bringing you closer by the waist as you tenderly deepened the kiss— soft lips smacking and moving with such love that it almost made you cry again.

“i’m sorry.” he pulled back, whispering against your lips. “it’s completely unfair to you—”

“s’okay ken.” you whispered back, the cutest smile he had even seen in his life on your face. “i’ll forgive you if you keep kissing me.”

“deal.”

your lips mushed up against each others once more, kento breathing you in and relishing in the feeling of your body pressed up against his, his hands slowly roaming around from your waist to your sides— still trying to be respectful of his hand placement until you took one of them and lowered it to your ass cheek with a squeeze, him laughing against your lips.

you were so silly.

silly and bright and spontaneous and beautiful, today another reminder from countless others with your frilly pastel yellow sundress and the pearls in your hair, your entity different from the rest of the women he’d come to know and thankful that he was lucky enough to have grown with you.

to have protected you. 

and the both of you were relieved to see that the monroe sisters and their girl friends didn’t seem to care where you two had ventured off to, for you didn’t know how long you were gone either as you approached the table again— the dessert piles, scones, and strawberry shortcake cake nearly nonexistent, you taking a seat again and secretly reapplying your lipgloss since kento had basically sucked it off of your face, your cheeks pinky and the butterflies in your stomach running rampant.

you were glad then that the monroe’s and their minions were such dim witted bitches too, because their level of self-absorption inhibited them from knowing or picking up on any clues of what could have transpired between you and kento in the garden, them immediately going to you upon arrival and chatting up a storm about mindless things again like you had never left the table to begin with.

but all you could think about was what you were going to tell you father about akio.

and you didn’t want to think about it honestly… because you knew there was a strong chance of you getting literally violent and landing yourself in deeper shit with him than ever before.

that didn’t matter either though if it meant being with kento… and for real this time. the thought of simply just him giving you the push that you needed to trudge up your grand staircase once you got home from brunch, kento trailing behind you and pleading with you to take a little breather before going in to speak with your father, but you absolutely done over the situation seeing as he only ever saw you as a thing and not his daughter if he was willing to marry you off like that.

“my love please relax—”

you stopped in front of your fathers study and knocked curtly, ignoring kento’s words.

“come in.”

you pushed down the handle and walked through, kento following close behind you and clicking the door closed as you stepped to the front of your fathers desk, your arms crossed.

“ah y/n. nanami.” he looked up from his documents, eyes switching between the two of you. “how was brunch with the monroe’s?”

“good.” you replied.

“was the food selection still as grandiose as always?” he looked back down at his paperwork.

“mhm.” you crossed your arms. “they had strawberry shortcake cake this year.”

he hummed. “the monroe’s always know how to put on a good event don’t they? for their daughters? and how are they by the w—”

“they’re fine.” you cut him off sharply. “but you know what isn’t fine?”

he eyed you.

“what?”

“that you’re marrying me off to akio—”

he sighed loudly and placed his documents flat on his desk, leaning forward and wringing his hands together to rest on the surface.

“he’s a good prospect.” he began. “he came up to me with some very impressive ideas about the future of my business, and also how much he was interested in you.”

you scoffed. “so this is what the arrangement is about? your business?”

“i thought you would be happy about this?” he extended his hands out lazily. “akio comes from a wealthy background. you’ll be taken care of in whatever you need and he’s qualified to take over my business once the time comes—”

hurt flashed across your face.

“why would you consider akio taking over your business and not your daughter?”

he laughed humorously, shuffling some papers about mindlessly on his desk.

“y/n you can’t possibly think that i’d consider you to take leadership over my business.”

“and why the hell not?”

his eyes narrowed.

“because you’re incompetent.” he spoke harshly. “you don’t know the meaning of responsibility, you’re stubborn, you’re spoiled, and all that you concern yourself with is parties and outings. you think i would allow you anywhere near my business?”

with each insult and jab that was thrown in your face, the blurrier and blurrier your vision got, you desperately trying to blink your tears back and put on a brave front, but finding it difficult when it was your own father that was dumbing you down to nothing.

“you’re not ready for anything like this and i don’t think you will ever be.” he stood up from his chair. “i’m thinking of what’s good for you and you’re being ungrateful yet again with your complaints—”

“sir with all due respect please try to see where she’s coming from.” kento interjected. “i’m sure she has the future of your business in her best interests, but marrying her off to someone she doesn’t know very well is upsetting her—”

“she’s never had any interest in the state of my business son you and i both know that—”

“sir she’s an extremely capable woman and independent i assure you her contribution to the business would serve prosperity—”

your father scoffed. “there is no prosperity with her. all she brings is disorder and foolery and i appreciate you trying to vouch for her but—”

“please if you’d just give her a chance—”

“i’d give you more of a chance over her—”

“then give the company to kento!” you yelled, the both of them snapping their heads to you and kento’s eyes widening. “i could care less what you think of me everything you told me isn’t new fucking information—”

“young lady language—”

“—i’m not here to try and convince you to give me the business that’s not what i’m here for.” you spat. “but don’t you dare stand there and say that i’ve never cared about the state of it when that’s bullshit.”

kento placed a hand on your shoulder and you shook it off.

“give the company to kento.” you repeated firmly. “if you give it to akio he’ll run your business to the ground and you know that.”

“and how would you know he isn’t qualified—”

“are you kidding?” you shook your head incredulously. “akio is a little dumb boy who goes to his daddy for help any chance he gets because he can’t do anything for himself. he puts on a show about how he’s this mature experienced man when he’s nothing but a joke.”

“i thought you said you barely knew him?” your father asked. “where is this information coming from?”

“the monroe sisters.” you spat. “they’re blabbermouths and their opinions are garbage, but their gossip is always truthful.”

it’s how you found out about the arranged proposal after all.

“i’m stubborn, i’m spoiled, i’m too stupid to handle anything for myself i’m helpless— fine. whatever you say but him?—”

you pointed to kento.

“he’s the most qualified for this position and you and i both know that.”

“y/n no—” kento tried to interject again, but you cut him off.

“he’s seen you handle the business since he was fourteen and knows it inside and out and just as much as you do. any task you’ve ever given him he’s gotten it done and more and i assure you that the business will flourish if you give it to him.”

you stepped forward, your father standing there with a neutral expression.

“believe it or not i care about what you worked so hard for to create, and i care about you, and regardless of what you think of me and the fact that you’ve shown me the complete opposite, it’d kill me to see akio ruin all of it.”

you wiped your cheeks and continued as you turned around, making your way to the other side of your father’s study. 

“kento’s a good man. everything will be in good hands with him.”

you threw open the door and stomped out.

“and i’m not marrying akio!—”

“y/n return at once—”

“sir i advise you to—”

your father and kento’s words drowned out the further down the hallway you got, tears spilling from your eyes now that you were away from it all as your heels hastily clicked against the shiny marble flooring, quiet sobs racking through your body.

you spouting repeatedly how you didn’t care what your father thought about you was a complete lie.

because you very much did care… you always have. and no matter how hard you tried to prove to him that you were capable of more than just parties and brunches and pearls and pretty dresses and shoes and cars, it was never enough. 

you were never enough.

“y/n—”

kento distantly burst out from your father’s study and quickly strode up to you, concern etched all over his face as you shook off your chiffon scarf and chucked it somewhere behind you in frustration. 

“my darling—” kento picked up the long piece of fabric and continued on after you. “my darling i’m so sorry—”

“i need to be alone ken.” you sobbed. “i’m sorry too i just need to be alone—”

“i refuse to leave—”

you slammed your bedroom door shut and kento picked up the pace, his eyes big in alarm at the sound of tumbling and thudding in your room as he stopped in front of your door, swinging it open to reveal you on the other side throwing your heels across the room along with several other pairs and things, your pretty pearls and jewels flying as he stood there in shock.

kento caught sight of you picking up your favorite porcelain flower vase amidst your rage to throw, him quickly stepping in and snatching it from you and fighting your thrashing as he held you to himself.

“kento stop it!—”

he placed the vase safely on your vanity desk and spun you around, his arms grabbing your shoulders tightly as he bent down to your level.

“sweetheart breathe please—” 

he hurriedly snagged off his cream colored blazer and tossed it off to the side, leaving him in his blue button up and suspenders as he rolled up his sleeves and placed his hands back on your shoulders.

“hey— it’s alright.” his hazel eyes frantically darted over every corner of your face, him snatching off his lenses now and tossing them. “it’s alright breathe for me y/n please—”

you could only sob, your mascara stained cheeks and heartbroken expression crumbling and ripping kento to pieces as he looked at you, his hands coming up to cup and caress your wet face.

“everything he said was the farthest thing from the truth don’t let it upset you like this—”

“no but he’s right he’s right!” you sobbed. “i’m useless i can’t do shit for myself and i’d probably be off somewhere dead in a ditch if it wasn’t for you—”

“do not say things like that—”

“kento you can’t be with me.”

he faltered. “i’m sorry?”

“you can’t be with me it’s embarrassing to be with me you’re better off with someone who’s capable and responsible like you i just bring you down—”

“stop that i’m serious i won’t ask again—”

“no kento you’re not listening!” you cried, your shoulders violently shaking. “you’re a good man. you’re such a good man and you’re way too good for me and i don’t deserve to be with you you can’t keep babysitting me like this—”

“how could you ever possibly say these things about yourself?” he shook his head. “how could you ever say that you’re too good for me when it’s the other way around?”

your eyes narrowed.

“no it’s not don’t give me that—”

“your father is full of shit.”

your mouth snapped shut.

kento never badmouthed your father no matter what it was, and he also never cussed so forceful and purposeful no matter the situation.

“he’s always been too hard on you and too stoic for reasons that i will never understand nor ever agree with.”

he leaned closer.

“do not upset yourself over the things he said any longer and do not worry about your marriage arrangement with akio.”

“ken—”

“do not think about the pearls you just threw over your balcony do not worry about anything— i will take care of it.”

“i—”

“i love you and i will take care of it.”

you continued to cry, letting your body slump wholly against his as he caught you and held you tight.

“please.. i beg you darling to believe me when i say that you are the most capable woman i know.” he spoke against your ear, his chest aching over your soft sobbing. “you’re witty and you’re intelligent and you’ve come so far simply because of who you are and the way you carry yourself. it’s a shame your father can’t see that.”

“no one can see that—”

“i can see it. everybody else can see it too and i’ve been around you all my life to testify for it.” 

you sniffled, burying your face in his neck.

“believe me my love…” he ran a soothing hand down your back. “you’re everything. you’re an asset. don’t let your father’s words take that away.”

you sniffled a little, standing there silent as your hiccups and sobs settled down gradually, your heart beating prominently against your ribs at kento’s sweet murmurings and affection, because though your fathers actions and decisions were bible, so were kento’s words.

he was a good man.

“thank you.” you mumbled, and he nodded, gently guiding you to your bed to sit.

“i’ll take care of you sweetheart.” he pulled back and placed a soft kiss to your lips. “i promise you.”

you smiled a little, a small warm gleam in your eyes as you sniffed and nodded.

“okay ken.”

words didn’t need to be said between the two of you to know the unconditional love you both had for each other, one that was born and bred and made a fact upon your lives crossing paths through fated connections, and strengthened from the day kento decided to be your bodyguard and protect you with everything that he had.

and words didn’t need to be said between the two of you as you both fell in each other’s soft embraces either, kissing with lingering hands and bated breaths as kento delicately laid you back on your bed after a moment of soft chattering, him making sure you were okay, and scattering hungry open mouthed kisses on your jaw and neck and your body language alone with your needy whines enough of an indicator to him that you needed all of him, just as much as he needed all of you, his calloused hands undressing you and worshipping your bare body and everything that you were.

skin to skin contact that was hot to the touch, your arms that barely reached around his broad built shoulders trembling as kento made love to you that night, foreheads resting against each others as he pumped slowly and intimately in and out from inside you, your gasps catching themselves in your throat and him moaning with every thrust and snap of his hips that sent you down a ditzy fucked out road that you never wanted to back track from.

and kento treated you like a delicate little pearl all while at the same time desperately marking and bruising you up with hickeys and bites, afraid from the start that he would accidentally cross the line and hurt you due to his size, but you reassuring him with your perfect smile and pretty face while whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he filled you full, him swallowing you whole and man handling you so much to the point where he had to have you biting down on his tie to keep you quiet while he fucked you senseless.

everything about it was meaningful and cherished and nothing like you’d ever experienced before in your life— a night you wanted to remember for as long as you lived and prayed that you got to repeat over and over again… with him.

with kento and kento only.

he was the only man capable of simmering down your tears and making you feel so much better about a situation as horrid as the one that transpired, and he was the only man that was capable of getting you to listen when you didn’t want to, an incredible talent in itself that spoke volumes in how much of a gentle and kind and reliable person he was… and you only hoped that you provided him with things of the same caliber.

and the thought of that only amplified upon you waking up to find that kento wasn’t next to you in your bed the next morning… when you clearly remembered falling asleep in his big arms the night before.

you slowly sat up, one tired eye peeking over at the vacant spot next you and around the room, finding nothing and honestly feeling a little down about his disappearance as you groggily got out of bed.

maybe he went to eat breakfast? or get a cup of coffee?

you continued on anyways with your morning and freshened up for the day, your legs nearly giving out and sore in the shower due to the pounding he gave you— skin tender and purple under the running water and you loving every mark, shrugging and getting ready quicker than normal so you could finally see kento downstairs to share a little smooch or two with him.

you zoomed through styling your hair and doing your makeup before spritzing a bit of perfume, not bothering to locate your phone before you opened the door to your bedroom and stepped out, bidding your usual good mornings to your housekeeping staff as you skipped down the grand staircase and over to the kitchen, a place he was usually at if not already with you in your room.

but he wasn’t there.

and you frowned.

where was he?

you spent a total of thirty minutes looking for kento— practically turning your mansion upside down and even sticking your head in rooms you had never stepped foot in before, your mind fucking confused and worried that you couldn’t locate him anywhere and that your staff didn’t even know where he was when you asked, for him doing something like this was completely unheard of.

upon going back upstairs, you speedily walked past your fathers study and stopped.

could he be in there…?

but your father was for sure in there, and you couldn’t stand the thought of speaking or even looking at him at the moment without fury clouding your judgement again.

but kento could be in there…

you took a deep breath and walked back to your fathers door, hesitantly knocking gently.

“come in.”

you pushed the door open and stepped in, closing it behind you before turning around and shoulders slumping when you didn’t spot him in here either.

dammit.

“good morning.” your father spoke. “what can i do for you? it’s rather early for you to be stopping by.”

“oh yeah sorry i just—” you played with the ends of your hair. “i was just looking for kento… i thought he might’ve been in here.”

he shook his head.

“he’s not. he left.”

you froze.

“he— what?”

“he left.” you father repeated. “nanami stepped down from the position of being your bodyguard earlier today. he left a couple of hours ago.”

what the fuck?

“i don’t—” you tightly gripped the table next to you, balancing yourself. “i don’t understand—”

“you’ll be assigned a new bodyguard within the next coming week—”

“did he say why?” you breathed out. “did he say anything at all?”

your fathers eyes scanned you.

“amongst various other things, he said he simply couldn’t fulfill that position anymore.”

“did you fire him?!”

he scoffed. “don’t be ridiculous y/n i would never do something like that to nanami. i tried to get him to reconsider.”

holy fucking shit.

kento quit? kento left? kento left you?

it didn’t make any sense. nothing about it made sense to you this— this wasn’t like him at all—

“like i said you’ll be assigned a new bodyguard soon i just need to finalize nanami’s paperwork—”

you swung open the door and ran out, your eyes already filling with tears as you pushed through your housekeeping staff and ignored their beckoning and calls, you bursting through your room and throwing everything around to try and find your phone through your heaving and panic.

why did he leave you? was it something you did?

did he finally realize you were nothing but a useless spoiled girl?

you hurriedly wiped your eyes and kept looking, transitioning from your bed over to your vanity desk and knocking over everything to try and find your stupid phone to call him, some of your expensive bottle of perfumes clattering and spilling and you not giving a rats ass about it as your tears increased in intensity, about to run out of your room and get in your car to literally drive around your fucking city to look for him until you snapped your head up.

a small yellow sticky note sat stuck to your mirror. 

you stopped, dropping the items you were holding and stepping closer— pulling the note from its position and bringing it in.

i’ll be in the garden waiting for you when you wake up.

kento.

you hiccuped and wiped your eyes again, kicking the clothes you had thrown about in search for your phone (that you still couldn’t find) as you hurriedly left your room and trudged down the hall, confusion and hurt suffocating your head over the information you had just learned about him and his leave, you reaching the bottom of your staircase and rounding through various hallways and lounge areas to get to the entry way of your little garden, one that wasn’t exaggeratingly massive like the monroe’s, but one that was a great size and that you loved with everything in you— various flowers and herbs planted by yours truly as you periodically took care of them from time to time.

and sure enough, as promised, kento was standing at the end of your garden, his back turned to you as he overlooked the acres of land your father owned that stretched beyond the premises of your rosey labyrinth, him dressed in a casual yet dressy tight long sleeve sweater and dress pants— a sight you weren’t used to seeing at all as you always saw him in a full blown suit everyday without fail.

kento heard the soft rustling of grass and he slightly turned, a soft smile stretching across his chiseled face until he caught sight of your tear stained cheeks and pissed off expression, his face dropping and brows pinching.

“honey what’s wrong?” he walked over to you and you glared. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“you quit.” you muttered, already annoyingly feeling your waterworks trigger again. “my father said you gave up your bodyguard position.”

“oh.” his shoulders relaxed, and his nonchalance only further pissed you off. “i did my love yes—”

“why.” you pushed. “why are you leaving i don’t— i don’t get it did i do something wrong? i—”

“what?” he shook his head and took your hands in his. “no dear god no you didn’t do anything.”

“then why are you leaving?” you sniffed, and kento wiped a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“i told your father i love you.”

you stiffened.

“he wasn’t very pleased.” he continued. “i figured he wouldn’t be… but he didn’t make me step down from my position darling, i chose to do that.”

you blinked confusedly.

“but why?”

“i don’t want to be paid for something that i was born to do as your man.” he smiled warmly. “it didn’t feel right to me… and i don’t want to be labeled as that anymore either.”

he wiped away your remaining tears.

“i want to only be known as yours now. not your bodyguard or anything else in between.”

you were left speechless, unmoving and rigid at everything he was saying.

“however… your father did make me choose between you and the business.”

your brows furrowed, taken aback.

“the— the business?—”

kento nodded, a content smile still on his face.

“he was impressed by what you said yesterday sweetheart.” 

you scoffed. “what that his words were bullshit and that he doesn’t care about me—”

he laughed, little crinkles in the corners of his eyes as he shook his head.

“he was satisfied to see that you weren’t angry about not getting the company for yourself, but because he was going to give it away to someone who wasn’t qualified to maintain it.” 

you pursed your lips.

“he was offering it to me in exchange for letting you go. i refused immediately.”

your eyes shot up.

“kento no i— fuck—” you looked around exasperatedly. “this is your dream! this is everything you’ve ever wanted i feel horrible for taking that away i don’t—”

“sweetheart don’t be stupid.” he chuckled. “i thought i made it clear enough that you’re everything i’ve ever wanted… not some business. i don’t need any of that. just you.”

your eyes softened.

“are you sad at all?”

he shook his head and gently kissed your forehead.

“i’m the happiest i’ve ever been y/n.”

and that was the truest of truths.

kento was truly and incandescently happy, no longer tied down and restrained by his inner monologues of former idiotic confusion, or jugglings of what was best for you and whether you should be with him or not no longer standing in the way either as he finally welcomed the fact that yes— a woman as gracious and lively and stunning as you could indeed love a simple man like him, an absolute privilege and honor to have someone as special as you want a life with him in it that he just couldn’t understand how his feelings were ever considered confusing to start with.

for him thinking of nothing but you and his occupation as your protector and your guide, a job that he saw himself doing beside you until his very dying day, was all simply a mask of him thinking out the rest of his life with you in the form of work.

and it was so clear that he loved you. so much.

how could he not? how could the way he stared at the monroe’s generational wedding portraits and photographs, swapping their faces out with his and yours, and his constant weighings of ‘if she was mine’ and ‘does she actually feel the same way’ from before not already give away enough that he loved you?

but it was even clearer now, with him giving up the opportunity to build and nourish a reputable business like he’d always aspired to do, turning it down without so much as a blink because he wanted you and you only, not feeling an ounce of regret in his body and knowing that he never will.

kento was looking forward to spending the rest of his days with the woman that he’d always envisioned it with— the forbidden heavenly fruit that he had deemed impossible to reach and wrong to even try, him unknowing of the fact that that same glistening fruit sat dangling and waiting as it would only ever let itself be harvested and picked by him… for kento was the one who planted and had been nurturing it for as long as it could remember.

planted it… nurtured it… kept it safe.

kept you safe.

and funnily enough, another individual was also looking forward to seeing your life with kento unfold… your father— curious to see how exactly two opposites became compatible, and when it was that the two of you fell in love as it managed to wholeheartedly slip past his radar completely when most things didn’t.

had he really been this absent in your life?

… though regardless if he was or wasn’t, it was too late to dwell on it now, seeing as you were a grown woman and capable and your father was grateful that you at least had a companion with you through the many days he wasn’t, and an honorable man such as kento— taking care of you and guiding you through every step of your life when he didn’t even need to be asked, his willingness to do it and overlooking your reckless habits reading numbers to your father.

and even more so now as he leaned against his studies stone balcony ledge from above, it overlooking the entirety of your garden plus the acres of land he owned during the annual dinner party he put on for the business, kento sitting peacefully on a lawn chair with you in his lap while drinking glasses of sparkling champagne, soft echoing laughs and giggles heard from below as you enjoyed each others company away from the bustling crowds and nosy relatives.

it was a pleasing sight, to say the least.

and it was exactly why your father was going to give his business to kento when the time came, because when given the choice between gluttony and love, kento chose love.

he chose you.

“i’m thinking of planting tiger lilies soon.” you hummed, your head resting on kento’s shoulder as he delicately ran a hand down your back, sipping his champagne. “it’s almost their season… right?”

“i believe so, yes.” he nodded. “i think that’s a great idea.”

“thanks!” you cheesed, running the tip of your index finger absentmindedly over the rim of your glass. “will you help me? i need your big manly arms to carry the soil out from the flower shop tomorrow hehe.”

he chuckled, tracing his fingers gingerly over your upper arm. “i’ll pick it up for you in the morning sweetheart. don’t concern yourself with it.”

you smiled to yourself, cheeks warm as you pressed a kiss to his cheek in gratitude.

“i am concerned about something else though…”

his brows pinched, lowering the glass from his lips and looking at you in concern.

“what is it?”

“when we’re gonna pick our wedding date—”

kento laughed boastfully and shook his head, setting down his champagne glass on the little table next to him and settling his hand over your thigh, the material of your classy black dress smooth under his touch.

“you asked me this just last night my love.”

“okay so?” you grinned. “you don’t want me to be your precious wife? the birth giver of your offspring?—”

“i never said that—”

“because i could y’know.” you caressed his jaw with your thumb. “i could be your wife and be the mother of your children… isn’t that what you want?”

with all of his heart.

“it’s what i want at least.” you pouted, and kento smiled handsomely, the vision of you soaked in the rays of the setting sun before him a lethal one as he felt his heart rattle against his chest.

“me promising to take care of you has marriage included above all else my love.” he spoke gently. “you will be my bride someday, i assure you.”

you stared at him warmly, your cheek falling to rest against his as you placed your hand on his chest and over his white crisp button up.

“i also assure you that you’ll continue to be happy and protected, alright?” he squeezed your thigh. “just because i’m not your bodyguard anymore doesn’t mean my duties are done with.”

you nodded against him, the slight prickling cold wind brushing against your skin as the stunning sun continued to set.

“you’re a good man, ken.” you murmured. “and i love you.”

and that was another truest of truths.

because as he reiterated that same three worded phrase back to you and held you closer to his built frame, grabbing his blazer from the arm rest and draping it over your goose bumped filled shoulders, and with a tender kiss to your lips?

it was obvious that kento nanami was born and raised to be just that.

a good man.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

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[fucktoru]

reader who can’t stand satoru but then he gets hit by a curse that turns him into a cat. you find him, to his dismay, and take him home, only for him to realize how different you are when he isn’t around to pester you.

at first, he causes a lot of trouble. breaking things in your house, tearing up the pillows. he just wants to be a human again, but nobody can understand him! but you still take care of him and coddle him no matter how much trouble he causes, so different from how people treat him normally, as if he were a nuisance (which he kind of was on purpose). and he finds himself falling for you without realizing it.

so he stops being a bad cat, steadily losing hope that he’ll ever be human again. and satoru would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy how you stroked him while you read a book or let him sleep beside you at night. maybe it wasn’t so bad? so he decided then if he was going to be just a cat, he was fine with being your cat.

the higher-ups had taken note of his absence, obviously, and he only knows cause you’ve mentioned it to him. you had this endearingweird quirk where you’d talk to him as if he were a real person.

throughout his stay in your home as a house pet, satoru finds out a lot about you. you’ve always kept to yourself, but you vent your frustrations out to him while he’s like this, and he offers his comfort the best he can. which you appreciate, rewarding him with kisses that he secretly enjoys.

once he turns human again, by some miracle, his first thought is to go and find you. and when he does, you give him the cold shoulder like you used to, and it surprises him. before he realizes that, ah, he wasn’t your pet anymore. he was gojo satoru.

satoru realizes his feelings for you in that moment. when he feels the ache in his chest from your dismissive behavior, it leads him to starting his most important mission yet—winning your heart once more.

but this time, it’ll be as a person, not a damn cat.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

The way Nanami subtly doms you

Tags: dom!Nanami x fem!Reader, sub!Reader, dom/sub relationship, NO age regression, sub space.

An: yeah idk i feel like nanami’s very subtle with his domming style, but i see shiu kong as full on dom.

• Nanami isn’t the type to flex his dominance over you. He doesn’t have to be rude or degrading to drive the point home. You know exactly when he gives you that look, it means to behave. His hazel eyes cut in your direction, and his eyebrow raises ever so slightly, like he’s amused by your disobedience. However, he doesn’t smile — doesn’t reward bad behavior.

• “Want to say that again?”, “Language.”, “Didn’t I tell you no pouting?” when you’re being a brat and mouthing off. bonus points if he’s pulling his tie away from his neck and slowly wrapping it around his palm.

• It’s simple, but he gives you his hoodies or coats to wear when you’re out and about. He likes seeing his clothes encompassed your body, and he enjoys that everyone will immediately be able to tell just whose you are.

• Speaking of clothes, Nanami’s not the type to tell you when you can and can’t wear something. He’s confident in his abilities to keep you safe, but that doesn’t mean he won’t make suggestions. “Are you sure about the skirt, sweetheart? I don’t want your legs getting cold.”

• He takes great care of you in an inconspicuous manner. He’ll adjust your clothes on you, buttoning up your top or gently fixing your unruly hair. He’ll throw your towel and pajamas (that he picked out for you) in the dryer when you’re in the shower, so they are all warm and cozy for you when you get out.

• Nanami is also the type to set a pretty firm bedtime for you. He knows how much you like to stay up and how ill you get in the mornings if you hadn’t had a minimum of 8 hours of rest. So, he sets you on a pretty strict bedtime schedule and routine. Don’t worry. He’s there every night to cuddle you to sleep.

• Insistent that you hold his hand while you two are out. He knows how distractible you are, and it eases his mind when your palm rests in his.

• The way he talks can throw you straight into a more submissive headspace, and he knows it too. He doesn’t do it often, but when he notices you getting too stressed or burnt out, he’ll immediately start with the dom talk, “My baby needs a break, doesn’t she?” He’ll coo and pull you into his lap, and when you inevitably lean into his touch, “There she is. Did my baby miss me?”

• Nanami sees it as a gentlemanly thing, but it could also be seen as another form of domming. He doesn’t let you touch a single door handle if he’s with you, and you best believe he’s walking on the outside. You’re tucked beside him on the inside of the sidewalk. He’ll also never let you hold a shopping bag. No, he does not care that he’s holding a bunch of Victoria’s Secret and Ulta bags. He pays for everything. If your car needs gas, Nanami fills it up.

• On the off chance that you two are out, and he’s not right beside you, all he has to do is curl his finger and point at the ground in front of him to let you know that he wants you to come to him, and you better do as you’re told.

• The king of giving simple stern instructions. “Look at me.” “Speak up, baby.”, “Come here, now.”, “Give me a kiss.”, “Ask nicely.”

• Nanami will sit on the couch, spread his legs, and pat his knee when he wants you to sit on his lap. He doesn’t even have to give simple instructions for that.

• Even while he does all this, he respects your independence, autonomy, and intelligence. Let’s bffr rn he’s your biggest supporter in everything you do. He’s so in love with you because he knows how smart and hard working you are. He’s so damn lucky that he gets to be the man to pamper you and ease your weary mind. He loves being that safe space for you, so you can just relax, lean on him, and just be you.

[severepink]

Observing Adam

Where I go way too deep into something that probably isn't that deep. It's long, it's long as hell.

Okay, so you'd think with how Adam talks he's just a typical misogynist, right?

This man worships pussy. So much so, he's named a whole ass angel, one of his best, Vagina. You'd say that he objectifies them and thinks of them as being lesser, but I don't think that's the whole story. In fact, I think he might be the original simp.

All of these exorcists so far have been women. All of them. He refers to them as ladies or bitches interchangeably, he sees them as being completely capable of absolutely decimating leagues of some of the most vile beings who have ever existed, and they have, to the point it was only after thousands of years that there's been a risk to this hierarchy.

He's a self-centered, egotistical, loud-mouthed, arrogant asshole, no doubt about it, but I'm beginning to suspect something now.

If Adam and Lilith were created from the same dust, if they were created as equals, I am more than willing to bet... Lilith is also a self-centered, egotistical, arrogant asshole. But, she's likely far more intelligent, composed, and duplicitous.

Lilith was allowed to refuse Adam and leave of her own free will and garnered her own independence. A new wife was created for Adam, she was replaced. My guess, is she thought Adam wouldn't be able to live without her, to come back and find herself replaced entirely, she was enraged.

I believe both Adam and Lilith were both incredibly dominant individuals who fought over ideas, thoughts, and ultimately in the bedroom as well, if we take into account the creationist stories.

I'm willing to bet she likely manipulated Lucifer into twisting humanity against its original concept. What if Lucifer's intention truly was to just spark something within Eve, like independence and thought and creation, but it was Lilith's poison within the fruit that tainted her, then subsequently Adam, with sin.

Lilith thrived in hell, while Lucifer's dreams of creation were dashed. She didn't suffer as he did, instead the power of her voice grew with hell. Her voice grew so powerful that heaven found it to be a threat, her actions instigated the beginning of exterminations.

Charlie said that when she was a little girl, she didn't know Lucifer at all. I don't think this was because of Lucifer, he's seen here, picking her up, inviting her to share in his thoughts and dreams, showing her something wonderful. Something she could see within herself.

Charlie says that it's this moment that sparked her will to fight for her dreams. Which is strange, because at the very beginning of the story, Charlie says it was her mother's dream that was passed down to her.

Lilith took Charlie away. In this scene, Lucifer wasn't done showing Charlie his thoughts and dreams, he's still yearning to show his daughter these things at this point.

Lucifer loves his daughter. He loves Charlie so, so, so much. So why wasn't he allowed to build a relationship with his daughter for the longest time? He was waiting for the opportunity to get to know her, but with how much he adores her why didn't he do it sooner? He didn't comment on 'It took you a while-' he just said he missed her smile. They don't want to be pulled apart, again.

Now, we know Vivziepop has said that Lucifer and Lilith love each other, but Lilith 'wears the pants' in the relationship. We see all of the pictures all over the walls of a supposedly happy family. I don't think the relationship was as loving as originally portrayed and Lilith is a woman who desires control above all else. She likely tried to mitigate what influence Lucifer had over their daughter when she thought his angelic thoughts and behaviors became more than what she approved of.

Lets take it back to Adam and Lute for a moment. Again, Adam is a loud mouthed idiot, he's a jerk. The moment he realizes there are demons in heaven, he's ready to go on the attack. It's only because of Lute that he didn't end up doing something absolutely idiotic.

I gotta say, Lute and Adam's relationship is an absolutely fascinating one. He's a disrespectful dick head in how he talks, but how he acts is a different story. He allows Lute to man-handle him. He does listen to her, even if he's a whiny bitch about it.

Look at him, this is the face of a man listening, a dumb one, but a dude listening all the same. He doesn't manhandle her back, he doesn't even pull away until she lets go of his collar. Of all the shit he complained about, between being grabbed and being told what to do, his biggest complaint is that she's telling him to shush.

We know that Adam is the one who suggested the exterminations to begin with, so Sera says, and this was because of the power that Lilith was amassing. To him, Lilith is a threat. Even when he was willing to move on, to go to another wife when Lilith didn't want him or want to submit to him (fair babe, he's a bit of an idiot), she came back with an angel and proceeded to manipulate his new wife Eve. This is the supposed progenitor of man-kind, the original dick (hilariously enough), the reason civilization even exists at all. He and Eve had to fight for their lives after being tempted with the fruit. They had immortality, they had no ideas of shame, they were supposedly 'innocent' creatures before Lilith and Lucifer came along. He and Eve had to fight tooth and nail to survive after being cast from Eden. I think it shows in how willing and ready he is to take lead and do what he believes needs to be done, now out of a need for entertainment rather than a need to defend or protect. But, he still stopped to listen to Lute's advice. In the mythological story of Adam and Eve, Adam is the one who has to tell Eve that god said don't eat the fruit. Eve never heard god speak to her, so she was vulnerable to the snake's manipulations. She will now die because she ate it, and because she did not want Adam to take another wife, convinced him to eat it unknowingly. Funnily enough, Adam tried to explain to god that 'she lied to me and gave me the fruit' and in this actual mythology, Adam was punished for listening to his wife. Even without mentioning Lilith in the original mythology, Eve didn't want Adam to take another wife, so when we consider it within the context of Hazbin Hotel, it may be likely that's how it went down. Eve knew of Lilith, knew that she could be replaced, and decided that she would take Adam with her.

I believe that Adam does and did rely on the women in his life to help him with direction. I think Adam knows he can be an idiot and is willing to listen, even if he doesn't agree with what he's hearing. He did listen to Charlie in the beginning, he just didn't believe in her, like everyone else and he, out of anyone there, probably had the most reason not to. Cain and Abel were his and Eve's sons, his own child became the first murderer. Out of jealousy, the same kind of jealousy that no doubt has caused Lilith to act how she did. Adam isn't going to have empathy for sinners. His family, his legacy, were filled with the original sinners. He probably had to kill his son Cain in hell during the first exterminations. What do you think he would have had to feel, if it came to be a fact that sinners could be redeemed? That maybe his son, could've been redeemed? Or any of his progeny for that matter? How did it feel when his sons, his progeny, weren't given the same mercy as the Hellborn that Lucifer managed to keep protected through some deal with the angels or god? Not to mention that Charlie could've been his daughter. Charlie is the product of the people who completely and totally destroyed the paradise he'd been born into. She's the daughter who is protected and immune from the slaughter while all of his sons and daughters are judged and killed. I believe, even though he was a dickish prankster to Charlie, he was surprisingly patient and even somewhat amicable, willing to even ask her how her weekend was like he was just trying to get to know her.

Adam could just see all of the angels under his employ as being disposable. He doesn't have to name them, or think about them in any individual fashion. But, he knows Vaggie, recognized her instantly. Thought she was badass. Lute's the one who saw her, tore her wings off, and walked away. I'm surprised they even let her live, because this just goes against everything they're doing. They're an army and they saw one of their own showing empathy to the enemy.

Look at this dumb ass. He's being a shit-head, a dick, a bastard. But, he admires Vaggie's ability to pull Charlie, congratulates her, this dude isn't even judging her for being a lesbian. I don't think it's because he objectifies women, this dude loves women, he just does. He respects fellow vagina lovers. I don't think he respects liars in the slightest though. He's being underhanded, he's trying to be manipulative (he's not very good at it). I think he's brutally open and honest about everything and that's probably one of the reasons he's such a bastard anyways, because sometimes you just need to shut-up and he's not good at that.

I don't think he respects Sera for that either, he's more than willing to let others know what the hell he's doing, but under Sera's lead, he can't be open about it. I don't think it's his jam to act this way, it's why he sucks so bad at it and I think that's why Lilith is so antithetical to him. I also think that's why he's possibly even being manipulated.

It's kind of crazy that Adam is the only one who tries to come up with what allows someone to get into heaven. So here's his list: 1. Act Selfless: Maybe at one point he was! He had to have been, to be one of the progenitors of mankind, he would have had to work, sacrifice, and give to his wife and children for them all to survive. Eve would have had to do the same, no doubt. He may not seem selfless, due to his raunchy behavior, but he's served heaven since he's been there. He's served humanity in some kind of facet. 2. Don't Steal: Considering the only other humans are his spawn, he likely had to try and get them to not steal from one another for them all to have an equal opportunity of survival. He and Eve likely both knew they would need to work together to survive.

3. Stick it to the man: This, however, is interesting. Who is 'The Man' he speaks of? God? The only other people over him or were equal to him were women. He speaks like a rocker, and I think in this case he's using the term 'The Man' in a gender neutral way. I think he allowed some amount of Authority to Lilith when they were supposed to be seen as equals, it comes so naturally to him as a character when it comes to the other women he's been interacting with. I think she is the 'man' that he's been sticking it to- Pun somewhat intended. ((This third one may also simply be a tongue in cheek reference to when Alex Brightman played Dewey in School of Rock on Broadway! Thank you to the user who brought this to my attention!))

Adam is a bit of a hypocrite, isn't he? He likes to fuck, he's made that abundantly clear. Full of lust you could say. It was his original purpose after all, and he is judging Angel Dust for something he probably would've done himself at one point or has considered doing (maybe not the having sex with men part). Angel Dust does all of these things, Adam doesn't even deny it. He even looks nervous. He's angry, but doesn't deny that Angel has done those things. He doesn't explain it away or try to lie or move the goal posts, he's just asking what is an actually very valid question.

Why isn't Angel Dust there if he can do things equal to what Adam himself hasn't done? Serenity continues that line of thought. It isn't until Charlie is realizing no one knows what it takes to get into heaven.

Adam is more than willing to let Lute take the lead here, he's willing to give her the stage to clap back, he's giving her back-up antics. By all means, they could be pushing and fighting one another, there could easily be body language expressing something other than their general comfort around one another. They aren't fighting for a spotlight like you'd expect Adam to try and do considering his egotistical attitude.

Adam fucking sucks at keeping his mouth shut and he sucks at lying. He nearly blew the secret out of the bag once, this time, Sera is the only one who tries to stop him and to be honest? Lute looks a bit too thrilled at it. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't think it's a big deal that anyone would know. For fucks sake, they've already condemned souls, his progeny, to suffer. What's the big deal if he kills them?

I have to re-iterate what's happening here. Charlie is proud she caused this chaos, that she caused these angels to fight amongst themselves, even if in this case it's a good thing. But, this is like history repeating itself to Adam, the reflection of his ex-wife, entering his domain, causing strife among his people, being happy about it.

And the venom he expresses when it comes to the 'liar' portion, god Alex Brightman destroyed when he got to this portion specifically. There is some vehement disgust in his tone when he says liar.

Adam isn't a good person now. But, I think he used to be a good person. By all means, Adam himself could've been the first murderer when his wife made her mistake. He, at one point in time, had to have been good enough to foster civilization itself with Eve. Both good and bad. Adam's original purpose was to be fruitful and multiply. Ordained by god (or maybe just angels) himself, divine power directed and created him to fuck. He didn't chase his ex-wife down, he was given a new one, Lilith was allowed to leave. When he left things alone, when he tried to move on, his ex-wife and a scorned angel destroyed the paradise he was in with Eve. He had to struggle and toil, he had to feel shame in his own body. He had to find out his first born son was the first murderer. His second son killed. We don't know if this is going to be canon in the story, a lot has changed, and if Adam is the first soul who reached heaven, then what did happen to Abel? Was Abel considered a sinner? Or did Cain kill Abel after Adam had passed? Either way, he had to witness his children kill, he had to watch his descendants behave in a range from saints and monsters. He's seen genocides, he's seen famine, war. Adam is desensitized to the plights of his descendants. Maybe he even saw it as a duty to cleanse the universe of their existence at one point, because they were his responsibility.

At the end of this episode, he is properly scolded by Sera and does seem ashamed of himself. He isn't huffy, he is reminded that he should be ashamed of acting that way.

I love Lute's enthusiasm, she's absolutely brutal when talking about Vaggie and with how she handled Vaggie. I think it's funny that Lute is so brutal she's even made Adam uncomfortable. It's cute that he's made uncomfortable by the excitement and all he does is tell Lute, the premier hype woman over here, to chill. She's so proud of herself too, look at her.

He fully expects these exorcist bad bitches to go in there and fuck shit up. But, you know it's hilarious that he's throwing horns? This dude, this angel. First human soul in heaven, loving rock n' roll, the devil's music, and throwing motherfucking horns. It's poetic really. I think we can probably assume where things are going.

Now, this is the first point we've seen Adam being a real piece of shit to Lute. I don't think Adam likes it when people think he's too dumb to notice something, especially something so damn obvious. This is such a drastic moment of vitriolic, uncontrolled anger directed towards Lute. Adam knows he isn't the brightest tool in the shed. He likely knows he's obtuse and misses shit. It's why he sucks at lying, he knows he's not smart. That is why I think he's afforded women opportunities to direct him without fighting back against their advice and their choices. I'm sure Lilith made it obvious how dumb she thinks Adam is. I'm wondering if this might be where their ground breaking fight might've come from. Who's to say he didn't allow Lilith to take the lead, or listen to her like he's done with Lute here and now? Perhaps to an even greater point? He listened to Eve and ate from the fruit of knowledge and he was punished for it. Being seen as so dumb he can't formulate a simple fact is a sore spot for him.

Adam is incredibly powerful. It took a bit out of him to exercise that power, probably because he's out of practice just like Lucifer said. At one point, he probably wasn't so sloppy and weak willed. He's gotten lazy. Sloth like.

I think it got real personal here. How viscerally and personally he attacked Charlie. No one but Charlie truly thought sinners could be redeemed, or that they were even worth it. Not even one of the original sinners. Maybe he never considered the possibility, maybe what happened really did make him see the world as black and white to cope with that happened to him, his wife, his children. Charlie's desire to fight this idea would destroy the foundation for all of his coping through the years. He stopped seeing them as family, even though he's grandiose about his founding role in humanity. Does that itch the guilt that may lurk under the surface?

I don't think Adam thought much of Charlie at all. I don't think he had any intention of coming to kill her in the beginning, despite seeing her, despite who her parents were. But, I think with the constant push, with how eager she was to disrupt the pre-conceived idea of order, it reminded Adam and reflected her parents so much, he was eager to kill her for revenge against them. I think this electrical interference on the mask is a direct reflection of sin. Namely, wrath, in this moment.

Now, this. THIS. Is something that made me want to write this whole fucking essay. Is Lucifer implying that he not only gave Eve the Fruit from the tree of knowledge, but FUCKED HER TOO? Homies, I'm sorry but holy shit. That is some hydrating tea. I'd be pretty pissed too, fucked over twice by women who were supposed to be literal soul mates, who you were made for, who were made for you?

I knew he would have a goatee, I could almost hear it. I gotta say, I'm a sucker for how he looks. I think he's hot. He is a bastard, but so are a lot of the hot dudes in this show. It's just a theme.

This exact series of lines prompted so many of the thoughts that I had about Adam and why he thinks or acts the way he does. At one point, Adam did have to work himself to the bone and learn to survive from scratch alongside Eve. He isn't entirely without cause to not think that he deserves some respect or recognition from his descendants.

But, that doesn't give him the right to act like god himself. It's... well... Blasphemous. Isn't it? One of the worst sins is to think yourself to be worthy of worship, as if you're a god.

This is the moment that gave me empathy for them both. You could probably see the kind of loving person Adam could have been at one point with how he looks at Lute, even as he's laying there, dying. He's not crying like a bitch, just looking at Lute softly. Lute screaming for him, screaming his name. They cared for each other deeply.

And this... and this.... and this. WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE, LILITH? Did you make it with Sera? Did you make it with Adam? Did you make it with Lute? Did you really just want a little 'vacay' away from the hell you helped create? Left her husband, depressed and lonely. Left her daughter without any care or guidance. Maybe Alastor was sent in her place, perhaps? Seven years since he was seen after all, but why wouldn't he show up sooner if Lilith did care? Did she make a deal with Lute and Adam? Did she let Adam smash it so she could stay in heaven? Did Lute let her stay in exchange for getting Adam out of a position of power? Or was it maybe Sera who commissioned Lilith with a deal? Either way, I'm in full belief that it wasn't Adam's idea to move the extermination day up. I think he's a patsy, a scapegoat. I think Lute may have been manipulated, potentially, into manipulating Adam into this position. Was it even really Adam who came up with the idea to do the exterminations? Or was he the one who simply decided to fight originally because he was told heaven was at risk due to Lilith's rising power? The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. I think it could be any number of these. Either way, Lute certainly does think she had authority over Lilith. Is it Lute just having hubris? Or is Lilith truly bound, just like Alastor, Husk, and Angel Dust?

Of course, now that we know a soul can be redeemed... and we certainly know that angels can fall. I don't think this will be the last we see of Adam.

[misserabella]

sick love

spencer reid x fem! reader

pt2!!

synopsis;;

you catch your best friend spencer touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happen…

cw;; (let’s act as if spencer and reader are the same age (consensual 18) in high school

really perv!spencer, dark themes, spencer uses readers body without implicit consent (i don’t know if it counts as cnc since later we find out she doesn’t mind), somnophilia (if you squint), INDECENT use of cum, stalker behavior, use of masculine sex toys, breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom spencer, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

@cafekitsune ‘s separators

Spencer was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were no where to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you invited Spencer for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in D.C in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been shared, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? He didn’t even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didn’t care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.

He liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of him, he wouldn’t have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up,— and also, who would believe them if they said that the slender nerd of their class was the one that beat them up— so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, he’d go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk — which he had under key— and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.

Another thing Spencer loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.

He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when he’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.

He would steal food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. You’d always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.

Spencer considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like you’d use a fucking toy. He had woke up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

He’d prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what he thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what he’d do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldn’t found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.

He sometimes would leave his house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.

That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. You’d been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from his — thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Spencer was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.

“Fuck…” he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. “Please, fuck me, please…” he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.

“Spence!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Spencer always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a book he had been dying to read for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been sold out. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from him. “Spencer?” you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Spencer fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, at the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Spencer was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

He looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, glasses crooked, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Spencer was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Spencer’s movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and book in hand.

He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” he didn’t even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” he cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the book fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that Spencer, the Genius Spencer Reid, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” he stuttered as he shook his head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.

“Only good boys get a kiss, Spence.”

“I’m a good boy…” he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” he moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.

In the state he was… He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

He moaned when you sat down on his desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.

You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Spencer’s. It was big, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat you’d need to swallow when he came in your mouth. “Aw, poor Spence…” you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Spencer?” he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. “Fuck…” he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. ‘I need you. Need you so bad…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. “Hold it. I haven’t even told you where to cum yet.” he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. “Good boy…” you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. That’s all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.

You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. “You came again, baby?” he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. “Fuck, Spencer…” you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.”

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his hazel thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded it away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow —the same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.

He didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. “Spencer…” you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin… He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which he had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. Spencer knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. “Fuck, Spencer, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Spencer crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

He moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Spencer drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.

You mewled when once you’ve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Spencer.” you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Spence? Where do you want to cum, baby?” he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling of his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Spence.” he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Spencer, please, please…” you whimpered, and he didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit. I’m gonna cum.” your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?” he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Spencer, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Spencer, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Spencer, Spencer, Spencer…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” his thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.

“Shit, fuck, Spencer. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Spencer!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Spencer had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

-

i needed to.

[jensthwa]

we can't be friends (CS x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.

GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)

WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.

NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: august 06 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68

masterlist.

You and Choi San go way back. 

Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 

He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 

She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.

He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 

Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 

Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 

Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 

So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 

Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 

Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 

And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 

You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 

He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 

So it was meant to be. 

Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 

Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 

See? Meant. To. Be. 

It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 

You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 

Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 

You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 

And then the unimaginable happened. 

Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 

Gyuri was not too excited about that. 

Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 

You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 

And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 

But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 

Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 

You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.

It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 

When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 

He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 

Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 

Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 

That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 

You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 

It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 

Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 

Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 

Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 

It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 

You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 

It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 

Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 

But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 

But you saw through it. 

Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 

Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 

You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 

Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 

By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 

She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 

“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 

Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 

“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 

Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 

Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 

And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 

A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 

Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 

“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 

“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 

Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 

And so, it went on for a while: 

Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  

Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.

All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 

And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 

You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 

You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 

You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 

Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 

She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 

Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 

So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 

She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 

Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 

Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 

She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 

And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 

Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 

Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 

“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 

“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”

You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 

You loved it. 

But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 

And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 

“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 

You nodded again, defeated. 

“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”

That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 

And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 

It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 

Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 

He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 

Bless his heart. 

You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 

“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 

Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 

No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 

But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 

You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 

His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 

Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.

When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 

“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 

“And just what do you think you're doing?” 

“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 

San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 

“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 

He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 

He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 

He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 

San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 

He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 

You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 

The one who cared about you. 

It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 

But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 

He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 

Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.

“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 

What? 

Oh. So he lied to you. 

And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 

So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 

“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 

The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 

But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 

“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 

He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 

“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 

“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 

Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 

“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 

And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 

But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 

“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 

Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 

The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 

Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 

Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.

You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 

Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 

You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 

Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 

And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 

He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 

He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 

And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 

For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 

You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 

And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 

Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 

Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 

“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” The slap to the back of your head is quick and filled with rage. 

“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 

“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 

“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”

It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 

“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 

“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 

“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 

Kyungmi. 

You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 

She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 

You think you might even like her better than him. 

You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 

You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 

You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 

Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 

And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 

You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 

“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 

Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 

To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 

Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 

But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 

“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 

They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 

“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 

“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 

“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 

“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 

“Gyuri!”

“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 

You chuckle “Sure you are.”

You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 

“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 

“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 

Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 

“What does that have to do with parents?”

“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 

San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 

The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 

Good for them. 

“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”

Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 

Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.

“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 

“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 

You laugh, confused “To where?” 

“Their wedding, duh.” 

“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 

“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 

“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 

She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 

Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 

“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 

“Why?” 

She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 

“Hm.” 

“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 

“I know…” 

“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 

“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 

You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 

“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 

“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 

But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 

“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.

Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 

He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 

You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 

And now he's going to work in the same field as you.

You're so proud of your friend. 

As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 

You didn't. 

You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 

When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 

You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 

She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 

You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 

Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 

You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 

You don't even want to find out. 

Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 

Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 

“You're going to mess up your hair.” 

“I don't care, I'm not going.” 

Sighing, you sit down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 

“What happened now?” 

“The bitch canceled!” 

“Wooyoung?” 

Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 

“You were his first love.” 

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 

Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 

She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 

“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 

She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 

“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 

You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 

Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 

She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 

Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 

“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 

You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 

And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 

When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 

That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 

You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 

But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 

“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 

“Who?” 

“Huh?”

San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 

Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 

But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 

He's such a dramatic human being.

You love him so much. 

Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 

The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 

Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 

“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 

“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 

Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 

“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 

“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 

She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 

“No you don't!” 

The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 

There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 

You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 

“So, you work for a publishing company?” 

The question catches you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 

He chuckles “You're nervous.” 

“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 

“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 

“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 

“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 

You doubt that. 

Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 

For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 

“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 

He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 

“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 

His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 

Your smile grows wider too. 

For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.

You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 

“I'm sorry I'm late!” 

“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 

“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 

“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 

Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 

The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 

You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 

You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.

He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 

How dare he. 

You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 

“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 

You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 

Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 

“Thanks…” 

Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 

It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 

Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 

“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 

“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 

“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 

“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 

“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  

“Do they?” 

“Mhm, so…” 

He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 

He doesn't sit in front of you. 

Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 

Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.

Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 

Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.

“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 

You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 

“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 

“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 

“Know what?” 

“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 

“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 

“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 

San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 

His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 

San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 

When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.

You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 

So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 

San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 

Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 

“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 

“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 

The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.

That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling. 

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 

You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 

“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 

“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 

“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 

“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 

“I'll show you.” 

His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 

No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 

When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 

You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 

Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 

Until it does. 

Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 

“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 

Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 

When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 

Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 

Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 

Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 

“I—” 

“You—” 

You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 

He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 

“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 

Ouch. 

Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 

The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 

“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 

“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 

“Huh?” 

“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 

“God damnit.” 

Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 

The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 

“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 

You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 

You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 

Jesus Christ. 

You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 

“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 

“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 

Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”

“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 

“You want to lay down?” 

“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 

“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 

“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 

“To your room, dumbass!”

“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 

“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 

“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 

If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 

“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 

“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 

“I know, Woo.” 

“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 

“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 

“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 

“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”

“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 

Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 

“Ah.”

“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 

And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 

When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 

You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 

Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 

“So—” 

“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 

“Y/N, it's late.” 

Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 

“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 

“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 

San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 

He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 

If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 

You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 

You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 

You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 

So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 

Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—

Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 

In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 

In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 

You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 

“Go home, Choi San.” 

“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 

“It's a twenty minute walk—” 

“Drop it.” 

You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 

Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 

“I didn't know that you danced.” 

He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 

“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 

“You never danced with me.” 

“You never asked me to.” 

He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 

“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 

It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 

You hope he falls on his pretty face.

“I did.* 

“I don't have your number.” 

“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 

“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 

He's getting on your nerves.

“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 

“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 

“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 

“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 

“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 

“That's not true.” 

“It is, San.” 

“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 

“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 

“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 

“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 

“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 

“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 

He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 

He's getting on your fucking nerves. 

“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 

“She’s not in my life anymore—” 

The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 

“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 

He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 

“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 

“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 

Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.

“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 

“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 

“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 

You nod. 

He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 

You hum at that. 

Why would he even say that? 

You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 

“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 

He follows you up. 

“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 

That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 

“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”

Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 

“It doesn't matter, really—” 

“Tell me, San.” 

He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 

Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 

The elevator dings and you get inside. 

San follows you. 

“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 

“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 

This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 

There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 

Mean. 

He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 

Hope. 

When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 

He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 

He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 

When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 

“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 

You can't take it anymore. 

“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 

“I know.” 

“It's been years…”  

“I miss you.” 

He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 

Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 

You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 

Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 

“W-what?”

His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 

Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 

He doesn't deny any of it.

He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 

There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 

“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 

“Hm?” 

“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 

How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 

He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 

You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 

Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 

If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 

“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 

This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 

But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 

“I guess it is.” 

You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 

When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 

Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 

He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 

He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 

“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 

He doesn't say it back. 

When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 

You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 

And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 

This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 

The doorbell rings. 

Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 

Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 

“Something about it.” 

“What?” 

“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 

You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 

It's too late to kiss him back. 

But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 

There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 

You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 

Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 

The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 

But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 

The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 

Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 

You have to know. 

He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 

Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 

You need to know. 

“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I want you, Y/N.” 

You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 

Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 

“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”

“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 

His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 

You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 

He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 

You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 

Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 

“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 

You nod. 

“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 

Oh, he's a comedian. 

“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 

You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 

“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 

You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 

The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 

“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 

He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 

Oh. 

Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 

No way. 

“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 

“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 

Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 

“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 

His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 

But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 

You can't believe his words. 

He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 

“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 

“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 

He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 

“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 

You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 

“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 

“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 

“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 

“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 

“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.

“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 

Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 

“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 

All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 

Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 

But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 

You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 

Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.

“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 

Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 

You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 

“I love you too, Sannie.” 

Saying something never felt so freeing before. 

“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 

You don't mind it. 

Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 

He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 

It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 

He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.

“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 

You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 

Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 

“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 

“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 

It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 

You want to hear it again. 

He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.

However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 

You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 

“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 

It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 

“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.

His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 

Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  

His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 

You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 

Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 

You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 

You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 

He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 

“San…” 

He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 

You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 

This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 

Yeah, you can definitely cry later.

“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 

“San, p-please…” 

“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 

When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under your breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 

He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 

“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.�� 

He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.

“Mhm,” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “It tastes even better than what I dreamed, too.” 

The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 

Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 

Once the piece of clothing is on the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention to where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 

The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.

In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 

So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 

The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 

You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 

After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 

There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 

Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 

“Condom?” 

You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 

“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 

“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 

And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 

Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 

He feels so good. 

This all feels way too good to be real. 

In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 

For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 

Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 

He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 

When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 

“Y-yes, fuck.” 

“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 

“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 

Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 

You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 

He kisses them away. 

You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 

You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 

“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 

Holy shit. 

When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 

San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 

There's also no way you're coming back from this. 

Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 

And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 

He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 

You both giggle at that.

You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 

Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 

“It was.” 

“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 

He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 

“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 

“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 

“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 

He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 

“Oh, come on!” 

He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 

San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 

When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 

“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 

“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 

San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 

Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 

“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 

“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 

“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 

“Please don't.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think that one is broken?” 

He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 

Now you're feeling it. 

He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 

His smile drops. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 

“What was the first?” 

“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 

He fake gasps at that “I did!” 

“No, you didn't!” 

“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 

“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 

Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 

And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 

“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 

“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 

When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 

“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 

You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 

He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 

As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 

“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  

“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 

“I know.” 

Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 

“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 

“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 

“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 

Gyuri's anger falters at that. 

“You… You do?” 

“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 

“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 

“Y-yes ma'am.” 

You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 

You and San don't get to go out on that date. 

But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 

And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.

Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 

You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.

The first line read as it follows: 

How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[suguann]

✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]

You like your new roommate.

Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 

He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 

He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.

Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.

“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 

Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”

He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”

The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 

You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.

A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 

His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?

(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.

If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)

For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.

“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.

You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 

It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.

When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.

Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 

The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.

It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.

Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.

"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."

"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."

His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.

"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."

There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 

No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.

He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.

“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”

You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.

“Answer me.”

An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 

He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 

“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”

[neferaskingdom]

♡ The Girls Are Fighting | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: How exactly is a girl supposed to tell their brother that she got knocked up by his current archnemesis? Especially when said brother is George Russell?

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

f1teaspill posted:

f1teaspill: 🔥 DRAMA ALERT 🔥 George Russell and Max Verstappen were seen exchanging heated words in the paddock after today’s qualifying session. Witnesses claim George called Max’s driving "reckless" (again), while Max allegedly replied, "Maybe if you drove faster, you wouldn’t need to talk so much." Sources say team personnel had to step in to separate them. Thoughts?

Comments:

user: the girls are fighting AGAIN

user: george and max beefing is my roman empire

user: "if you drove faster" HELPPP max is so unserious 😂

user: honestly george has a point tho?? max’s cooldown lap was suspicious af

user: no bc max cooked him and served him cold 😌

user: serious f1 fans trying to analyze the incident while we’re here laughing at “girls are fighting” 😭

landonorris: who needs netflix when you have this

user: ariana what are you doing here user: why is lando just our f1 gossip girl atp 😂

user: let’s be real. max and george are two sides of the same coin but one side is feral and the other side uses hair gel religiously

user: nah bc this is giving zendaya and bella thorne fighting over who was the real star of shake it up 🎤

user: not to be dramatic but george and max are my toxic exes fighting over me in my delusional little mind palace 😍

user: george fans: "max is ruining the sport" max fans: "cry more" me: "post the video!!!"

f1teaspill posted:

f1teaspill: The rivalry between George Russell and Max Verstappen is heating up, and it’s no longer just about racing. George has been outspoken about Max’s dangerous on-track behavior, accusing him of crossing lines and being unable to handle adversity when he’s not in the dominant car. "He's been enabled because nobody's stood up to him," George said, adding that Max’s reactions after a few bad races show he’s not handling pressure well​

Things got even more awkward at a recent team dinner when everyone left a seat for George next to Max—but George pulled his chair elsewhere. The tension was palpable, and fellow drivers like Lando Norris are enjoying every minute of it. When asked about the feud, Lando admitted he just wants to see them keep fighting—because, honestly, it’s pretty entertaining

Comments:

user: omg not the russell vs verstappen cinematic universe expanding

user: why are they STILL fighting. like girlies pls hug it out or smth

user: serious question: if they had a boxing match, who’d win? asking for a friend.

user: Lando really out here asking for Max and George to keep fighting like it's the best reality TV show ever. This is the content I didn’t know I needed. 😆

user: Imagine showing up to a team dinner and everyone’s waiting for you to sit next to your rival

user: George avoiding Max like he's the plague, and honestly, I don’t blame him. These two are about to turn F1 into a soap opera. 😆

user: The tension between them is unreal. Can’t wait for the next race to see if they actually talk or just pretend the other doesn’t exist. 😂

user: This is like a bad breakup but on a race track. Max and George giving us nothing but drama. And I am HERE for it. 🙌

[simpjaes]

DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)

― part one here! After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided. or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 14.5k 

CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.

NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!! 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Avoidance.

That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.

It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities. 

The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.

You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life? 

The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?

Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world. 

For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work. 

Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”

You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again. 

That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day. 

Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you? 

Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out? 

After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–

You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans. 

You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?

You refuse to fucking find out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

From:...[ HRatyourjob@workemail.org ]

CC:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

BCC:...

Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.

[insert your name here],

The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines. 

Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.

Thank you,

HR

Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.

Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.

The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.

But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.

Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either. 

The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle. 

Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you. 

Maybe you’re still overreacting.

Or maybe you dreamed all of this up. 

You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.

And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.

You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?

You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him. 

And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.

You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him. 

Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him. 

Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t. 

And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something. 

From:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

CC:...

BCC:...

Subject: Mandatory Advising

[insert your name here],

Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late. 

Thank you,

Park Sunghoon

Division Manager

000-000-0000 ext. 000

Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously? 

You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath. 

In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.  

So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature. 

Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?

“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes. 

It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest. 

“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk 

You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?” 

You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath. 

“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual. 

Not anger. Not disappointment. 

He looks worried.

“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.” 

You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.

“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.

“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”

You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of  “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again. 

You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.

“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.

“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor. 

“I will reiterate then.” 

You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you. 

“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”

Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.

“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.” 

You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?

“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.” 

You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.

So this is it? 

So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.

“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation. 

“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”

Now you feel a bit…pissed off.

Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?

What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy. 

You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.

Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?! 

Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it. 

Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching. 

Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?

“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.

You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office. 

“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”

“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”

“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”

“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?” 

Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call. 

But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.

Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?

Fuck.

Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both. 

And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out. 

“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”

Sunghoon raises his hands in defense. 

“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”

“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?” 

Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.

So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people? 

“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”

Oh, he’s actually stuttering.

“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”

In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it. 

Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.

But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera. 

You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers. 

And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.

But you…

You’ve seen him dirty. 

Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.

“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.

Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.

“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky. 

There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.

You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”

“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles. 

Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?

“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.” 

He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues. 

“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.” 

Silence. 

“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”

You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him. 

“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance. 

His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.

 To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too. 

Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep. 

“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”

“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.” 

He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you? 

You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.

“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”

More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe. 

“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.” 

“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated. 

You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before. 

“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.” 

Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he’s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?

Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from. 

“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll.  “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?” 

Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further. 

“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.” 

You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone. 

“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”

Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him. 

“Maybe.” 

You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe. 

“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.” 

He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion. 

“Did you take advantage of me?”

He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself. 

“Would I let you do it again…?”

Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?

God, hasn’t he already let you?

“Yes.”

Pause. 

“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”

“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose. 

“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”

Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off. 

Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?

Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you. 

He wants you so badly.

“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”

“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”

“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone. 

“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow. 

“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”

Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?

Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work. 

“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it. 

“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock. 

Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?” 

You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder. 

Click. 

“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”

“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant. 

“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain. 

“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute. 

Far too cute. 

“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.” 

Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?! 

You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.

Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary. 

“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”

You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him. 

“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.

 “No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”

You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt. 

You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers. 

“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”

A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.

”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you. 

 After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.

All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels. 

You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—

“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”

Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.

He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this. 

In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online? 

At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?

Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it. 

“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”

The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?

”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound. 

He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt. 

“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons. 

And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you. 

If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him. 

And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all. 

He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt. 

There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare  up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.

The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.

He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage. 

You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper. 

“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”

You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself. 

His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over. 

Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him. 

“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”

You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs. 

His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to. 

You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.

“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants. 

He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now. 

“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”

Oh. You lost your train of thought. 

Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more? 

So cute. 

He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them. 

You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs. 

“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly. 

Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?” 

God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…

You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you. 

“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”

You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence. 

But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that. 

“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth. 

You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.

His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this. 

But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–

“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.

“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth. 

The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to. 

 A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue. 

And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply. 

He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks. 

It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–

Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier. 

He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.

Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple. 

He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this. 

It feels better than jerking himself off. 

“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be. 

You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time. 

“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”

You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin. 

“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”

And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you. 

“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”

That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you. 

You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans. 

He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it. 

And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.

“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you. 

Oh, his cock. It’s right there. 

Oh.

His face– 

“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”

You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.

“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”

Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath. 

God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.

And not just anyone. His lips. 

You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it. 

He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you. 

And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising  himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you. 

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you. 

You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”

You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now. 

You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once. 

Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids. 

Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you. 

“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.

You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.

It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him. 

“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”

You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh. 

“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-” 

“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”

You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand. 

“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.” 

You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now. 

But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying. 

“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”

You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.

So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you. 

You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable. 

“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”

You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long. 

He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base. 

“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”

You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing. 

You’ve still only given him nothing. 

And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp. 

“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”

He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.

You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest. 

“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them. 

Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.

And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.

It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you. 

All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair. 

The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear. 

“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”

Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah. 

“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe. 

“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”

You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly. 

“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.

Quite fuckable, even. 

You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly. 

“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”

Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls. 

You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.

“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”

You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair. 

“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you. 

“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”

You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him? 

Honestly, who gives a fuck?

You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it. 

The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips? 

That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his. 

He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.

So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.

Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him. 

“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?” 

You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general. 

“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth. 

“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter. 

You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear. 

“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.” 

You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.

Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.

Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.

There, you look at him. You really look at him. 

What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him. 

“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”

You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips. 

You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.

As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks. 

Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants. 

You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–

“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”

You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing. 

“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”

Oh. 

“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.

 “Oh–shit.” 

It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound. 

“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”

“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”

He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it. 

To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–

He kisses you. 

After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.

And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety. 

You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…

He’s soft. Gentle, almost. 

Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking. 

You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection. 

Intimacy. 

And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you. 

“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.

It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed. 

“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode. 

You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice. 

“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work.  I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–” 

Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work. 

“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”

“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”

Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.

“Absolutely not?!” 

“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?” 

Sunghoon stares at you before smiling. 

“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”

You lend a half-joke gag at him. 

“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”

Sunghoon thinks hard.

“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”

“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”

“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”

“Oh, I’m personal business now?”

“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.” 

Well, he’s not wrong.

“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.” 

“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.” 

Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?

“Who else has applied?”

“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.” 

You pause.

“Why?”

“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”

“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”

You damn fucking right you have.

“How many are still in the running?”

“Two.”

Oh, this job is soooooo yours. 

“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”

Oh, he thinks you want him that badly? 

“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”

“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”

“Oh, absolutely.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

pls remember to leave feedback and reblog! :D love you!

[bwabys-scenarios]

CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO PERV ILLUMI i do not think there is enough perv illumi content on this app

He’s a perv

Perv!Illumi x Fem!Reader

A/N: sorry this is short and may resemble my other perv writings… but I hope y’all like it! Join my server

warnings: pervy Illumi, yandere behavior, masturbation, panty stealing, he’s kind of yucky, breeding, pregnancy

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Illumi had never experienced sexual attraction before. Had he gotten some morning wood once or twice? Yes, but he rarely felt the urge to jack off.

That was… until he met you.

He wasn’t quite sure what made you so appealing. You looked ordinary, at least… you should have. Illumi had been surrounded by the worlds most beautiful women since he was but a boy… yet here he was, getting hard over a girl he had barely met.

Maybe it was your soft curves, or the ways your hips swayed when you walked… it could have even been your sweet voice, and those pretty, glossy lips that made him want to pull you in and taste the shiny lipgloss you were wearing…

Whatever it was, ever since he first laid eyes on you, Illumi’s body had been acting strangely. Even a whiff of your perfume could have his cock twitching, standing at attention and ready for you… it was quite embarrassing, or it would have been if Illumi had any shame.

No, the only reason Illumi his his overwhelming desire for you was because he wanted these feelings to go away as quickly as possible. He couldn’t fall for some nobody Hunter with nen weaker than all the other applicants that had passed with you. No, Illumi was supposed to marry the best of the best, a woman whose womb could bear a strong heir.

But… that didn’t stop him from acting on some of his urges…

Unfortunately, Illumi couldn’t seem to let you out of his sight. It was annoying, following you around as you did your little daily chores in town. He could hardly get any work done when you looked so cute. You didn’t even realize your panties were showing when you bent over to pick up a coin…

When he couldn’t be constantly watching over you, Illumi would steal little trinkets from your home to… keep him satiated. Used panties, your lipgloss, and clothing items that smelled like your perfume.

He’d wrap your panties around his cock as he jerked off, your cardigan pressed against his face. If he really focused, he could imagine your pussy tightening around him, your plump thighs pressing against him as he bounced you on his cock…

He’d cum buckets into your panties, then break into your apartment and drop them off on your floor, like a cat leaving a dead mouse as a gift.

After a while, his urges grew and grew, until your panties just weren’t enough for him anymore.

Wooing you wasn’t too hard, and getting into your pants was easier than he would have though. The fact you were a virgin was very surprising… but welcomed. After all, he was a virgin as well.

The second his cock sunk into you, he immediately knew that he could never let you go. To hell with a strong heir, he wanted you, and only you. You were the only one that could make him feel this way… soft, vulnerable, and so goddamn horny.

Poor, poor you, having Illumi fuck into you for hours on end, unable to pull out of your pretty, warm cunt. He fucked so much cum into you that you felt so swollen and full…

Even after he was done, he didn’t pull out. Instead, he held you close, kissing the top of your head. “You’re all mine, darling. I’ll have wedding preparations ready within a week.”

You were much too exhausted to argue… and you weren’t sure you could say no to Illumi Zoldyck… so you just slept, accepting your fate. You’d be taken care of, and would never have to worry about anything ever again.

Shortly, Illumi would have his now pregnant wife in his home, where she would be safe, and where he could ravish her whenever he felt like it.

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

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[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Dracula (1931).

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Runtime: 1.8k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Obsessive Behavior, Threats of Physical Violence, Slight Gore, and Mentions of Death.

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You could feel his eyes burning into you from the other side of the abruptly-too-short table, the chill of the marble slab where it threatened to press into your midriff, but you did your best to ignore both. The table had already been set by the time you were called down to the dining room, a small army of silver platters arranged neatly in the space between you and him. You hadn’t eaten since the night before, but you weren’t hungry. Even if you had been, it was hard to imagine forcing yourself to choke down anything aside from your own anxiety. You were tempted to try your luck with the generously poured glass of wine to your left, but to drink it, you’d have to reach for it, and to reach for it, you’d have to lift your hands from where they were balled in your lap and you couldn’t do that because your hands wouldn’t stop fucking shak—

“Is the meal not to your tastes, dear?”

“It’s perfect,” you responded immediately, beaming. You grabbed the wine glass before you could hesitate, drinking as much as you could stand to. Chrollo’s ever-present grin had taken on a contented lull by the time you set it down. “Remind me to thank the chef before I leave. That is, if I ever actually manage to catch him.” And then, with a forced laugh, “That is, if this storm ever lets up long enough for me to get out of here.”

As if on cue, thunder clapped outside, followed shortly by a bolt of lightning bright enough to cast the dimly light dining room in a vibrant silver haze. You shrunk into your seat, but Chrollo’s dark eyes only seemed to brighten. “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t run into a member of my staff, yet. It’s been… how long? Four days?” Six. Come midnight, you’d be celebrating your week-long anniversary. “I hope you don’t think I’m keeping anyone away from you deliberately. Not that I’d mind keeping you to myself.”

It took everything you had to smile rather than cringe, to laugh rather than bury your face in your hands and scream. A day ago, you would’ve found your host’s nonchalance charming, but it was hard to find someone charming when the thought of meeting his eyes made you feel physically sick. It was hard to believe you’d been so thankful when you first turned-up on the doorstep of his dark, empty countryside mansion, when you realized you wouldn’t be at the mercy of an ancient, self-isolating millionaire but a man around you own age who, as far as you could tell, was as flustered to see you as you were to need his help. You explained that your car broke down about half a mile down the road, and he invited you to spend the night before calling for help at a more reasonable hour. The typhoon had rolled in not long before sunrise, and, well…

Again, thunder crashed and rain pelted the mansion from all directions. This time, you flinched into your seat before you could stop yourself.

It was your own fault, honestly. It’s not like there weren’t signs that something was wrong. Chrollo was charming, but he was off-putting, too. He seemed to treat the concept of personal space as more of a suggestion as a rule, whether that meant seeking you out in the tightest corner of the mansion’s sprawling library just to share a sofa truly meant for, at most, one person or letting himself into your room at night as if he couldn’t tell the difference between two in the afternoon and two in the morning. He claimed to have a full staff, and yet, you’d never run into any maids, butlers or cooks – never saw anyone who wasn’t Chrollo. His clothes always seemed to be either strange or ill-fitting, like he was wearing items from someone else’s closet, and more damningly, he didn’t seem at all suspicious of you, the stranger he’d allowed to stay in his home for nearly a week, now. No offense was particularly jarring, but it should’ve added up. You should’ve noticed sooner.

The only thing you could do, you figured, was bid your time and sneak out in the early hours of the morning. The landlines were down and you didn’t have cell reception, but the next house couldn’t be that far away, and you doubted Chrollo would follow you into the storm. Or, you hoped he wouldn’t, at least. You couldn’t really do much more than that.

“So,” Chrollo went on, and you made a point of nodding and smiling like he’d just said the smartest thing you’d ever heard, “When did you find the bodies?”

Immediately, your expression fell. A second later, you noticed that your hands had stopped shaking, but only because you’d lost the ability to move entirely.

When you finally regained the will to speak, it was all you could do to spit out something pathetically noncommittal. “...I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“Don’t be shy. I promise, I’m not mad, just curious.” He paused, letting his eyes bore into you. “You left the door unlocked.”

Ah.

The basement door, to be more specific. Calling what you’d found ‘bodies’ might’ve been a little generous, too. What little had been left of each corpse was already so badly deteriorated that it would’ve been impossible to tell which detached hand might’ve belonged to what disembodied torso. That was probably your fault, too. If you’d known to be wary of Chrollo, you would’ve known better than to follow him into the one place he’d asked you not to go, the one place he seemed to always disappear to when he wasn’t breathing down your neck.

“This morning,” you admitted. “I was bored and looking for you. Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing that it took me this long to realize you were a…”

You trailed off, but Chrollo was more than happy to finish in your stead. “A member of the Phantom Troupe?”

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from buckling – your mouth falling open as you stared at him, wide-eyed. “Oh my god,” And then, after burying your face in your hands, “I thought you were a fucking vampire, you goth prick.”

That was enough to earn an airy chuckle from Chrollo, any condescension hidden well underneath wry amusement. While you tried to recover, he went on. “I suppose I don’t have to tell you that I don’t actually live here. In truth, I only arrived a few hours before you did – long enough to dispose of the residents and staff, even if getting rid of their remains has been an…” For once, his eyes shifted away from you, skirting to the left. “An ongoing process.”

With a shallow sigh, he pushed himself to his feet rounding the table and falling into the chair closest to you. Dinner, if he’d ever had any interest in it at all, was thoroughly forgotten as he propped an arm on the edge and rested his chin on his knuckles. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not being more upfront. In a line of work like mine, it’s so rare to find an opportunity to play house.”

So, he was a thief. No, it was more than that – he was a world-class thief, with worse crimes under his belt than a handful of homicides and the wrongful imprisonment of one confused civilian. God. This was bad. You should’ve left earlier – as soon as you found the bodies. You should’ve never gotten out of your car at all.

Slowly, you straightened your back, keeping your arms crossed as you glared half-heartedly. “Are you going to let me leave?”

He hummed, drumming his fingers against his jaw. “Now, why would I go and do something like that?”

Your heart sank in your chest. “You’re going to kill me, then?”

“Now you’re just being hurtful.” It was uncanny, how little his demeanor changed prior and post to his confession. If anything, he seemed even more smug – like he was basking in your apparent terror. “As if I could be so wasteful. Besides, I was under the impression that you’ve been enjoying out time together.”

“And I was under the impression that you weren’t a serial killer!” You threw up your hands, agitation quickly overshadowing the worst of your nerves. “Things can change!”

“I suppose they can.” He was so frustratingly calm. If the memory of his dissected victims wasn’t burnt so deeply into your mind, you would’ve rolled your eyes. “And eventually, things will. You don’t think I plan to keep you trapped in this estate forever, do you?”

Rather than dwell on the implication, you moved on swiftly. “If you’re not going to hurt me, you can’t stop me from leaving. The storm can’t be more dangerous than spending another night with you.”

Somehow, his smile only seemed to grow that much wider. “Did you know that the majority of deaths related to natural disasters are from delayed attempts to evacuate? There are all sorts of threats – flooding, debris, sinkholes…” He brightened with each listed hazard, and you tried (and failed) not to picture yourself drowning in muddy rainwater. “Oh, and sickness, of course. Spend enough time in the rain and it won’t matter if you eventually find shelter – you’ll die of pneumonia in a matter of weeks.”

“You don’t know—”

“And, for the record, I said I wasn’t planning to kill you. You never asked about anything else.” He let out a dry chuckle. “I’m sorry, but I sure you understand. It’d just be irresponsible to promise that I’ll never have to, say, dislocate your ankle to stop you from making a very brash, very unadvisable decision.”

“Like calling the cops.”

“Like trying to go outside in a very bad, very easily deadly storm,” he clarified. “You can contact anyone you’d like, but please, try to be considerate. I’m going to run out of room in the basement eventually.”

This time, when you melted into your seat, it wasn’t out of reflex or anxiety, but in a deliberate effort to put that much more distance between him and you. “I… I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to die,” you admitted, taking longer than it should’ve to say something so glaringly obvious. “Tell me what I have to do to make that not happen.”

Yet another clap of thunder. This time, the lightning didn’t so much as tint his soulless eyes. “Straight to the point, as always. I like that about you.”

For the first time, he seemed to hesitate – a pink haze spreading over his pale cheeks as he reached out and laid his hand, almost gingerly, over yours. His trepidation was short-lived, though, only lasting up until the second you tried to pull away and he had an excuse to intertwine his fingers with yours, his grip tight enough to bruise.

“Why don’t we get to bed, darling?”