#these gifs are actually pretty terrible but I just had to
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bei-b · 3 months ago
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what do you mean I can't fit him in my pocket?
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wonustars · 7 months ago
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how do i- how- i-
coming back to the text post cuz i hit the 30 tag limit but i could go on about this story for hours it’s not even funny. there’s so many things i just want to unpack here but ill refrain because im severely sleep deprived and i should probably get sleep before i go to work . but jess, this was amazing, thank you for writing this i absolutely loved it (as a huge wonwoorideul). i’m gonna listen to take a chance w me by niki and call it a night because im going to need 3-5 business days to recover from this masterpiece. thank u for letting me read this for free i’m so happy now 💕
edit: there are many many typos pls jus pretend u can decipher my anna language 😭😭🫶
34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | jww
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(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)
pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda, v light) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.8k (idk what happened) warnings: art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, VERY ambiguous ending smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, multiple positions, unprotected sex (don't do this), slightly rough sex, mild dom!wonwoo?, fingering, oral sex, choking, spanking, multiple orgasms, squirting, light marking, semi-public sex, food play (whipped cream, chocolate), i think that's it
a/n: this is for @svthub's world tour collab (check out the other fics here). i had so much fun writing this even if it got away from me a bit. thanks to @effortandmore for lending me her art brain. thanks to @highvern for constantly listening to me and @multi-kpop-fanfics for fit inspo. and as always, thank you to my bby @wongyuseokie for the banner & divider.
tag list: @wonustars, @minisugakoobies, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @sdoulc, @wonwootakemyheart, @divinityyyy, @nightshadeinmoonlight, @imma-queencard, @jelly-n
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“We’ll be landing in about 45 minutes, according to the pilot,” a voice says, interrupting your laser-like focus.
You look up from your tablet and blink at him for a second. It takes you a moment or two to register he’s even standing there. Another moment to register what he actually said to you a second ago. In the meantime, you switch the program open on your tablet.
“Oh, thanks,” you say in response. 
He sits down in the seat opposite you and fixes you with a smile. “Must be a good book, you’ve barely looked up for the entire flight.” 
“Guilty,” you say with a practiced smile. 
Chan, you think that’s his name, seems nice enough. A little overeager and too ready to agree to something when his bosses tell him what to do. There’s that real thirst to prove himself. But, at least from what you hear, he’s got a bright future. He’s done well with what he’s been given so far, which are increasingly difficult assignments. You can see why. He’s easy on the eyes and he’s got that soft smile down. The kind of unassuming smile that makes people want to trust him. If he can keep it up, he’ll go far. 
“Thanks again for letting me catch a ride,” you say to fill some of the space between you. 
Chan only shrugs. “Any friend of Mr. Choi’s is always welcome. Plus, nobody really says no when the boss says something.”
A lesser person would have probably laughed at that. Hearing him referred to as Mr. Choi and the boss is a little comical to you. Not that it isn’t true because he is definitely Chan’s boss. It’s just, well, it’s a little more complicated than that. 
“Honestly I don’t really even understand what Cheol does,” you lie and turn on a little bit of the charm. It’s always good to practice on people that are trained to be charming themselves. 
“Do you call him that?” Chan wonders.
“Call him what? Cheol?” you ask and Chan nods, eyes a little wide. It catches him just off guard enough. “Yeah, but I’ve known him for years. What do you call him?”
“Sir, usually,” Chan answers too quickly. You can’t fully fight the smile that answer brings to your lips. “Glad to see I entertained you.” 
“He’s not nearly as bad as I’m sure he seems at work,” you say like you’re sharing a secret.
The truth is that you’ve been hearing about this new agent that Seungcheol is personally training for over a year now. So, you know that eventually, you’re going to all be laughing at this conversation in hindsight and he’ll also be calling his boss Cheol. For now, though, things are a little bit different. 
“He mentioned that you were heading down to do some research?” he asks and you nod. 
This part has always been a little tedious to you, the part where you come up with a cover story that you even have to feed to other people within the same organization. It’s been this way for your entire career. You were recruited at 18 years old and went through special training along with obtaining a degree. The Agency had two divisions, but you only ever learned about the second one if you were recruited to work there. It was that second division you joined right away. 
Training had been grueling. If it wasn’t some kind of physical endurance training, it was sitting in a windowless room studying history or a foreign language. Or it was combat training with whatever weapon was on deck that day. Or working to blend into any situation. You quickly learned that did not mean not being memorable. At least not in every situation. Sometimes that meant looking at ease in your surroundings even if eyes were on you. Thankfully, the charm seemed to come naturally to you and that was one less thing you had to worry about learning. 
The Agency officially works in maintaining international relationships between countries. That can mean a number of different things. Sometimes it involves an agent or team heading out to a location as official representatives. They can help with negotiation, security concerns, smoothing out issues, anything really. Unofficially, it often involves going undercover on a mission. That can involve either division, depending on the sensitivity of the mission. If it’s simpler, then someone like Chan gets sent out to work his way into a situation and influence the outcome so that everything stays calm. In fact, he’s here to charm a wealthy heiress that’s getting a little too close to revealing confidential information on government contracts. 
You, on the other hand, are officially here to study Argentinian culture and immerse yourself in local traditions. Chan doesn’t know that you work for The Agency as well. He doesn’t know that Seungcheol is like a boss to you. It’s not his preference. Seungcheol misses the days when he was by your side in the field instead of stuck in the office behind a desk. Unfortunately, several years ago he suffered a severe injury that just made field work impossible for him. It took a lot of convincing, most of which fell on your shoulders as the person closest to him, to get him to transition to his current role. Where you had never set foot in the main offices, he had been there periodically. He was known to people there. And he was so insanely smart that you pointed out he would be bored trying to assimilate into regular life. Why not get to do one of his other favorite things and tell younger agents (or even older ones) what to do? That had been the biggest selling point because he was good at being in charge. It had been a bit of a rocky transition at first, but now it’s smooth sailing. 
Unofficially, you’re here tracking one of the most infamous art thieves in the world. This is the kind of thing that has to be handled with the utmost secrecy. Other agencies and your own have tried to track him down and apprehend him only to have him slip into the wind. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d assume that there had been leaks during the previous attempts. You’ve also considered that he’s just really good at making a mark and blending into his surroundings. This is one of the most secretive missions you’ve ever been sent on despite seeming relatively innocuous. How much harm can an art thief really cause, right? Except, The Agency is largely funded by private investors and several of those investors have been victims and had art stolen. Despite that, the only people that know you’re making this attempt now are Seungcheol and the head of covert operations. His counterpart doesn’t know that you’re handling it, or even who you are. Instead, the main division of The Agency has a team headed to Amsterdam thinking that they’re after the notorious thief. 
Although it seems like it should be straight forward, this thief has been working in the shadows for years without anyone really knowing what he looks like beyond him being a man. The reports about what he actually looks like vary so greatly that nobody really knows what to believe. You and Seungcheol have spent months trying to put together a profile that seems most realistic and you feel as comfortable as you can. His appearance seems a little elusive, but the information that he’s going to be in Buenos Aires is the best lead you’ve gotten. It comes from someone that you worked with on a previous mission. You had been studying your profiles when Chan came over and quickly exited to a different application. 
“I am. I’m working on understanding the history of Argentinian culture through the eyes of Buenos Aires for a project,” you say with all the affection of someone who was actually going to be doing that. “I’m going to spend most of my time just out talking to people, learning their stories, that kind of thing.”
“Do you, uh, speak Spanish?” Chan wonders with clear apprehension. 
“I do,” you say with a light laugh. “Be a bit awkward if I didn’t, right?” 
“That’s impressive,” he says. 
“I speak several languages,” you say nonchalantly and then make a show of catching his eye. “I studied language and culture in university.” 
“You’re not what I’d imagine for one of my boss’s friends,” Chan admits. “Especially one close enough to get added to the manifest.” 
You shrug. “I’ve known him for a long time.” 
“He doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of time for friendships or someone that you can ever really know,” Chan presses and you laugh.
“Married to the job, right?” you agree. “I’m a low maintenance friend. I spend a lot of time out of town for research, immersed in local culture. We’ve probably got more in common that you’d think.” 
“That makes a lot of sense,” he concedes, seeming to easily buy your cover. He stands up. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”
The rest of the flight goes smoothly and you say your goodbyes to Chan and the others from the flight once you get off the plane. As is the plan, you take your suitcases to a local taxi and head to your hotel, checking in under one of the many fake names you used when on a mission. The room is nice, too, even if it’s nothing all that extravagant. It’s just another part of the cover. 
Since it’s been a long day, you figure that you might as well just order room service and settle in for the night. It’ll give you the chance to start getting your body used to the local timezone. Not that your body really has a home timezone anymore with how you’re constantly on the move. But, you still don’t mind the idea of resting for the night. 
You’re incredibly thankful to be in Buenos Aires in July since it’s the coolest month. It makes it easier for you to just walk everywhere. Before leaving your room for your first full day in your new city, you double check your messenger bag to make sure everything is in there: camera, multiple lenses,  journal, tablet and keyboard, sunglasses, wallet, and all your little bits to make it look like a bag you wear all the time. You smile at the receptionist on your way out, letting her know that you’re going off to explore what the city has to offer. She seems happy to see that you look better rested than after your long travel day. Even if heading out is mostly a cover for your mission, it’s also a little true. This city has been on your bucket list to visit for years and you’re not going to waste what might be your only opportunity to explore. It might even make it more believable as you’re trying to blend into the crowds around you.
After spending several hours wandering around and taking in everything you could, you find yourself at a local cafe in the early afternoon to have a cup of coffee and a light lunch. The whole morning flew by in a rush of colors and culture. It’s so easy to be interested in everything that’s before you because it’s just so vibrant. So full of life. Such a juxtaposition of history, tradition, and new influences. It’s one of the first times you’ve been somewhere and had to remind yourself that you are actually on a mission. You’re not just there to sightsee and fall in love. 
There are a lot of tourists in the cafe, which doesn’t really surprise you. Most places in Buenos Aires stay open during the afternoon for tourism, but you know that cafes in smaller towns would close. You figure that most locals probably avoid shops during this time of day as well. It feels lucky when you spot an open table in the corner until another patron moves and you see there’s actually someone sitting in one of the seats. It’s an uncharacteristically awkward moment for you, especially given how confident you are with everything else, that he catches you mid-decision. His eyes meet yours before looking at the coffee in one hand and the plate in the other. When he looks back down at the table, it clicks into place before you can turn around. 
“You, uh, can sit…” he starts with deliberate slowness that shouldn’t be throwing you off even more. 
You shake your head to clear it and smile. “It’s fine, I don’t just speak Spanish.” 
“Oh,” he says with a breath of relief. “Well, you can sit here.” 
“I don’t want to intrude,” you say and go to turn around.
“It’s busy. Are you going to just eat standing up?” he asks with a challenging raise of his eyebrow. 
“Well,” you start.
“I probably won’t be here much longer anyway,” he offers.
Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 
His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 
Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 
“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 
“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.
“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.
“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 
The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 
“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 
“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 
You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 
“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. It’s convenient, though. Not that you expected to be talking to someone like him about photography.
“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”
Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 
“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.
“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 
It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.
“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 
“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 
“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 
“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “Besides, it wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 
“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”
He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.
“Late for something?” you venture. 
“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 
“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.
“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.
“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.
“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.
And just like that, he’s gone. Slips into the crowd like he wasn’t even there in the first place. It makes you wonder, just for a second, if the entire exchange actually happened. Until you look back at the table and see the cup of coffee he had been drinking. Beside it, you notice a small piece of paper advertising a new installation at one of the local art museums. Not entirely out of the question, you think, for someone visiting this city and also interested in seeing your camera.
It’s then that you remind yourself why you’re actually here. You shake your head to clear it of any thoughts of the stranger, knowing you can’t make any effort to run into him again. The mission is the only thing that matters. Getting close to someone that could distract you in that way is not part of the plan. So, you can appreciate the banter and get back on track.
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The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You continue to explore the city while always keeping your eyes and ears open for any indication of the art thief. It’s a little frustrating to not have much to go on, but you’re also one of the most patient agents and you know it’ll pay off eventually. Seungcheol keeps in regular contact, sending along each new nugget of information he’s able to find. Even if they’re seemingly insignificant, you file them all away, appreciating how hard you know he’s working given how few people know about the mission. He has to pull the relevant pieces to send to you without tipping off the team in Amsterdam. 
You’re also splitting your days. Making sure to get out to experience the local culture to maintain your cover, while spending just as much time locked away in your room so that you can do your own research. Everything points to him already being in the city as well. It also seems like this next heist might be two-fold for him. It appears that he’s got a client that wants a specific piece of art and that he’s also going to steal some pieces for himself to sell at later dates. It’s a bit unusual, from what you’ve been able to tell. He usually likes to keep each job simple to reduce the likelihood of getting caught. Then again, he’s been active for years and doing just fine. 
Today you decide to go to check out a museum that you’ve been putting off. It’s silly, but you didn’t want to show up there the day after that cafe since it seemed a little convenient to leave behind. You have to familiarize yourself with all the museums in the city, though, and it seems like this one could be your thief’s target. It has just the right amount of traffic. Just the right combination of popular pieces with lesser known artists. 
Once you’re there, you immediately move away from the popular sections. That’s not the kind of art you’re after because it’s not the kind of art the thief ever steals. It’s too recognizable. Too hard to move. Just too risky. Once you’re in a quieter part of the museum, you fight off any feelings of being a fraud. Art has never really been your strong suit. If it weren’t for this mission being so sensitive, you definitely would not be the first agent anyone would choose. But, it is sensitive and so you have to rely on your training to carry you through any conversations that might pop up. You have to rely on the hours spent pouring over lectures about the different styles and influences, the different periods, different techniques. Hopefully your talent at rote memorization will serve you well. 
“It’s a shame they keep one of the best artists tucked away in a corner like this,” a voice says from your side, pulling you from your thoughts. 
You answer without even thinking much about the voice or even turning to see the person who appeared next to you nearly soundlessly. “Makes it easier to appreciate in peace, though.” 
“You like surrealism, then?” he asks and it’s only then that you notice something familiar about the voice or the manner of speaking. Or the fact that he’s not speaking to you in Spanish. 
Before you even turn to your side, you know who you’re going to find. He’s looking just as put together and at-ease as he did several days ago in the cafe. His hands rest in his pockets, but his eyes on you are sharp. There’s something a little hard to read about him, you think. 
The smile you give him is practiced, designed to seem genuine. “I like Leonor Fini.” 
“You’ve got good taste,” he says and turns back to the piece. 
“I do like surrealism,” you carry on, turning back to the piece yourself as well, “but, with her work, I really appreciate the way she used female subjects through a female lens. Too many artists…”
You trail off, pretending you’re unsure if you should continue. He falls into the setup easily. “Men could only show female subjects through their own eyes, but women look different through the eyes of other women.” 
“Exactly,” you say and smile at him before turning back to the painting again. “There’s something so captivating about the work she did.” 
“I agree. That’s why this is my favorite piece here and in my favorite section of works,” he says confidently. 
“You already have a favorite?” you joke.
“Well, I’ve been here every day for the past several days,” he shares.
This makes you turn to him fully. “Because you love this section and this work so much?” 
This mysterious man actually looks down like he’s embarrassed to admit whatever he’s about to tell you. Like he’s gotten shy for a moment. “I do, but I was actually hoping to run into you.” 
That catches you a bit off guard and it takes your brain a minute to remember, once again, you’re here on a mission. “It would have been easier to run into me if you just asked for my number.” 
“Kind of ruins this whole mysterious thing I have going on, though,” he shrugs. 
You roll your eyes and extend your hand, giving him your fake name for the mission. His eyes sparkle for a second before he takes your hand. 
“Wonwoo,” he answers.
“Nice to finally get your name,” you tease.
“I figured you’d come check out the museum when I left the card there at the cafe,” Wonwoo says. 
“I knew that was on purpose,” you mumble.
“Yet you didn’t come until today,” he observes.
“I wasn’t trying to make it easy on you,” you throw out quickly.
“Okay, time to switch tactics, then,” he says. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” 
“I’m not sure, can you?” you ask.
“Please let me take you to dinner,” he says.
It’s a bad idea and you know it. Everything about him screams distraction. This isn’t what you’re in Buenos Aires to do. Yet, there’s something about him that has you curious. There’s also the fact that this museum seems to be the most likely target for the art thief and this man admitted he’s been here every day. A small part of your brain is sending up alarm signals to keep an eye on him. He doesn’t seem like a secret art thief, but hasn’t your training taught you how to hide in plain sight? It’s entirely possible he’s doing the same.
Your brain goes into overdrive as it often does on missions. There are a million little details in the pages of your profile on the art thief. They come flooding back to you. The profile so thoughtfully pieced together by The Agency says he’s probably unassuming. The kind of man that fits into any situation in the same way as you do, like he’s not trying to fit in and it means he doesn’t stand out as not belonging. The profile suggests that he’s confident. That he would appear calm. Most importantly, he’s the kind of person that would absolutely look at home in the midst of art. So, whether it’s a good idea or not, you know you’re going to say yes. He must see the answer in your eyes before you voice it because he smirks. 
“What time?” 
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Wonwoo offers to pick you up at your hotel, but you insist that you’ll meet him at the restaurant. It’s safer that way, after all, being a woman traveling alone. At least that’s what you tell him. Not that anything about Wonwoo seems that threatening and you’re better equipped to handle yourself than most. You just don’t need him anywhere near your room even with everything put away. After going back to get ready, you made time to pour over the information you have. The more you consider it, the more it seems plausible that he could be exactly who you’re looking for. There’s only one issue: he asked you out. Everything you have suggests that he made agents in the past and slipped into the wind. You’re not cocky enough to think you’re too good to fall victim to the same fate. You keep your update to Seungcheol vague in case the lead doesn’t pan out. 
Surprisingly, Wonwoo picks a nice place off the beaten path for dinner. It’s not overrun with tourists and it’s not too expensive. Like him, it’s unassuming but quietly impressive. You try not to let your heart skip a beat when you see him in a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants. He stands to pull your seat out for you and then settles back into his seat across from you. This is for the sake of the mission. Either he’s the person you’re looking for or you’ll have enjoyed a free and tasty meal. Nothing more to it. 
His Spanish, it turns out, isn’t that great and so you help him through ordering since it’s definitely a place more for the locals. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to get your help. You’re not really sure you mind either way. He makes suggestions about which wines he prefers, but ultimately lets you pick, insisting that he will take care of whatever you land on. Once you get through ordering and all the small talk, it gives you a chance to really get to know him.
“Have you been here before?” you ask.
“This restaurant or this city?” he asks.
“Either,” you shrug.
“No to both,” he answers. “Clearly, my Spanish is a bit rusty. I’m so lucky that I found someone who’s so fluent.” 
“I’m not sure I believe you can’t speak the language,” you muse.
“I can speak enough Spanish to get by, but it’s not that good,” he assures you. 
“Interesting place to visit, then,” you observe.
“I’d miss out on a lot of beauty if I only went where I spoke the language fluently,” he retorts and you smile genuinely at that. He’s right. 
“Like the art in the museum?” you suggest.
“Or a charming stranger,” he counters. You’re impressed. “I do like the art as well, though.” 
“What other beautiful places have you visited?” you ask.
“Oh, I hardly think it’s that interesting,” he dismisses.
“Humor me,” you say. 
There’s a moment where he’s careful in listing off places. Like he’s weighing something that you can’t really place. He ends up listing some places that catch your attention. Each of them has some wonderful art museums and it piques your curiosity. You try to look just politely interested, commenting on how he’s lucky to be able to travel as extensively as he seems to. He plays it off with a vague comment about being fortunate with help from his family. It’s the kind of thing that you know passes on a first date. It’s not appropriate to mention money on a first date. So, that would be fine, if it didn’t also make you curious about who this man really was. After all, your art thief being well connected through family would definitely make sense.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, you try to enjoy it. Not that it’s hard to do. Wonwoo is actually a lot of fun to be around. The conversation flows easily and you’re able to connect on a lot of shared interests. At least, interests that you pretend to have for the sake of this mission. But, it feels like he might also be pretending on some of his interests. He’s just a little too calm and put together. A little too quick with his answers. A little too rehearsed with his comments. Maybe you wouldn’t think twice if you weren’t doing the same. 
By the time you finish the main course, you’re pretty sure that you managed to stumble into a date with the exact person that you’re here looking for based on his stories. It may have been a guess before. It feels nearly for sure  now. He mentions how you have to visit Japan when the cherry blossoms are blooming, which sounds stunning. He mentions Oktoberfest in Munich and how he barely remembers anything from that trip. Then there's the ice festival in China, Nordlysfestivalen in Norway, and a few other locations that sound beautiful. They also have one thing in common. Each place is also on your list for stolen art around the time of the events. 
Once you finish dessert, you’re making a decision that you know you should really clear with someone else before making. Sure, you’re pretty sure that Wonwoo is the art thief. And yes, it’s true that keeping an eye on him is in your best interest. One way to do that is to continue with the date. Yet, you’re not stopping to check in with Seungcheol. You’re not analyzing the pros and cons of doing this. After giving Seungcheol a vague update about a lead and promising you’ll have more information later on, he should be the first person you call. He’s not swept up in the atmosphere of a foreign city with a gorgeous stranger. No, you don’t do any of that. You’re just agreeing to go back to his room with him without a second thought. He’s painfully hot and you’re incredibly attracted to him, which is wildly unprofessional. But, you’re not sure you care. At least for the night. You can figure it all out later.
Wonwoo is quietly confident without being cocky. His gaze is so penetrating that it feels like he’s undressing you without it being slimy. He can hold a conversation about seemingly anything, but he’s also just as interested in what you have to say. In fact, you have his attention the whole night, regardless of anything else going on. It’s a little overwhelming to have someone so focused on you. But, when it feels a little overwhelming, he makes a perfectly timed, slightly sarcastic joke that makes you laugh harder than you should. The smile you wear all throughout the date is genuine. You’re actually enjoying yourself so much that you’re not sure you want it to end. Life has never felt so simultaneously complicated and easy.
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Wonwoo’s lips are hot on yours as he cages you against the door of his hotel room. That intensity you saw all dinner reappears and you feel like you might burn under his touch. He’s so in control. You’re still not entirely sure how you wound up here, but you’re not really trying to think too hard about it. The fact that he’s almost definitely the art thief becomes an issue for future-you the second he kisses you like it’s your last day on Earth. It’s not like he knows you’re tracking his movements and it isn’t exactly a bad thing to keep a closer eye on him. Nor is it the first time you’ve done something like this. It is the first time you’ve done it without thought, though, and genuinely been interested in the man you let seduce you.
He has his body pressed against yours with his arms on either side of you so there really is nowhere to go. It’s kind of hot and you’re not even pretending to be turned on. A definite bonus. Your hands quickly undo his belt so that you can pull the edges of his shirt out. The moment your hands make contact with his skin, he pulls away and hisses. They’re likely cold, not that you care. It gives you the chance to catch his lower lip between your teeth. You watch his eyes darken with lust as you run your hands up his back, scratching down lightly. 
“Just who do you think is in control here, baby?” His voice is so low in your ear that it makes you swallow hard. Everything about the endearment sounds sarcastic and it shouldn’t work, but you’re only human. Then he nips at your earlobe and you actually moan. 
“What are you going to do about it?” you challenge. It feels like a lot of heat between you. If your head were clearer, you might consider that it feels like two people who know they shouldn’t be fucking. Almost like he’s punishing you a little, which he might want to, given why you’re here.
“That’s a dangerous question,” he warns you. 
“Afraid I can’t handle it?” you ask and watch the way it nearly breaks his composure. You press forward into him, pulling him down so his ear is by your mouth now. Barely raise your voice above a whisper. “I’m not that fragile. I can handle a little pain.” 
That seems to set him off. You’re worried for a second when he pulls away, but that disappears as you watch his nimble fingers rapidly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He casts it aside and looks back at you. 
“I want you stripped naked and on the bed,” he commands. 
You’re not typically in the habit of taking commands but something about him makes you want to listen. Even if you want to challenge him a little. He turns his back and you do strip down. Mostly. You climb onto the bed wearing only your panties, legs spread open and waiting for him. When he turns around, you miss the flare of his nostrils at your defiance looking at his muscles. For someone so unassuming, he was certainly in good shape. 
“Is this your idea of naked?” he questions.
It’s funny, since he’s still got his boxer briefs on, though they leave little to the imagination. You can already see that he’s getting hard from the lead up. 
“I thought I’d leave that honor for you,” you say, injecting as much innocence as you can muster into every word.
Wonwoo looks at you for another long second before climbing onto the bed and getting between your legs. He pushes them further open and you bite down on your lip. 
“You don’t get to muffle those moans from me, sweetheart,” he teases, running a hand up the inside of your thigh.
“Or what?” you challenge again.
He raises an eyebrow at you and pulls his hand away from your thigh. You’re about to whine when he brings it back in a sharp slap. 
“Shit,” you hiss. 
“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks. You nod with big eyes. “Use your words.”
“Fuck, yes, I liked it,” you rush out the second his finger traces a light line up your clothed cunt. 
“I can tell,” he snarks. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”
“It won’t be,” you insist. He pulls his hand away and looks at you surprisingly soft for a second.
“Tell me if it is,” he repeats.
“I will,” you promise. 
“Good,” he says and hooks his fingers inside the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and casting them aside in one motion. “That’s better.” 
In another surprise, Wonwoo doesn’t dive right into your cunt the way you expect him to given how frenzied everything has been so far. Instead, he trails kisses from your knee up your inner thigh. Pausing occasionally to nip into the skin before running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. You’re writhing on the bed by the time his breath ghosts across your cunt. The chuckle is low and deep as you squirm when he moves to your other thigh. You’re going to die before he even touches you. 
“Jesus fuck, Wonwoo, if you don’t start eating me out…” you start, a hand winding into his hair.
He pops up and glares at you. “You’ll what? Did you already forget who’s in charge?” 
“I’ll…” you start, before cutting off with a sharp, “FUCK!”
He’s still got his eyes on you when his thumb runs quickly through your folds to press against your clit. There’s barely any movement but it anchors you in place. “That’s what I thought.” 
His kisses up your other thigh are much sloppier with a thumb still in place. It only makes you squirm more, searching for some kind of relief. When he finally gets to your lips, you expect he’s going to tease you again. You’re wrong. Again. His tongue dives into your pussy while his other hand keeps you spread open. This man knows what he’s doing and it’s immediately more than you’re expecting. You can’t stop your legs from snapping closed to box him in. That is, until he pulls his hands off you to spread your legs wide again, giving him the best access to you. It’s clear that he’s in charge and he wants you to know it. 
It’s everything you can do not to thrash around, but Wonwoo seems to be ready to help there. He’s got a hand on your stomach anchoring you down to the bed. You’re not even sure how he’s got enough hands to move them along your body the way he seems to. Without warning, he moves his mouth up to pay attention to your clit. And he doesn’t give you a break, sliding two fingers into you and immediately scissoring them open. He sets a brutal pace, curling his fingers to hit you where he seems to know you need him on some of the passes. 
“Fuck, Wonwoo, oh my god, fuck,” you scream out.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he sneers at you from between your legs.
“Yes, fuck,” you moan. “Your fingers, oh my god.” 
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans.
In the next moment, you’re coming so hard you squirt over those amazing fingers of his. Your vision whites out around the edges and your toes are curling. It’s all you can do to catch your breath as Wonwoo’s fingers pump through the high. 
“I don’t remember the last time I came that hard,” you admit.
“We’re not done yet,” he shares and the tone of his voice has you nearly clenching your legs together. “Turn over. Get on your hands and knees.” 
“So bossy,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You turn over anyway, though, and put your ass in the air. 
“This is a really good fucking view,” he says. You feel the bed dip when he gets back in place after removing his boxers. 
Wonwoo has one hand on your hip and the other is running up your back to press you down further. To help you get that perfect arch of your back. You wiggle your ass at him and are rewarded with a stinging smack. Your moan is muffled by the pillow, so you turn your head to the side. Already know he wants to hear you. When he smacks your other ass check, you nearly scream out.
“That’s it, I want to hear you,” he encourages. 
“Please, Wonwoo, just fuck me already,” you beg. 
“One orgasm wasn’t enough?” he asks and you can hear the cockiness in his voice. Bringing a ringing smack down on your ass again. You scream out at the sting. 
“No, I want you to split me open,” you whine. In any other situation you might be embarrassed by the admission, but not now. Not with him. Not when it’s so clearly turning him on. 
“Greedy little thing,” he comments. His fingers press into your cunt again and you nearly yelp. 
There’s no time to adjust when Wonwoo removes his fingers and immediately lines himself up at your entrance. With one snap of his hips, he’s fully inside you and you’re hissing. He’s bigger than you were guessing, even with the outline in his boxers. And he doesn’t give you a break as he starts fucking you hard. All you can hear is the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the mingled moans from both of you. You’re sensitive from both the pace and the earlier orgasm. Your legs feel like they would collapse under you if they could. 
As if the pace isn’t enough, Wonwoo snakes an arm around you to reach for your clit, rubbing circles into it at the same pace as his thrusts. You can tell he’s nowhere near close, but you’re about to lose control again and you’re not sure how to stop it.
“Fuck, Wonwoo, slower, I’m going to - fuck!” you whine out. 
“You gonna come again? So soon, baby?” he taunts. 
“I can’t - fuck, please,” you beg. “I’m so close.” 
“I want you to  make a mess of my dick the same way you made a mess of my fingers,” Wonwoo directs. 
“But you haven’t…” you start and Wonwoo removes his hand from your clit. You cry out at the loss until his other hand grabs your hair to yank you back against his chest. When it’s clear you’re not going to move, his hand moves from your hair to your throat.
“I want you to come for me. Right now. Show me how good I feel inside that tight pussy,” he directs.
It’s one of the most surprising reactions, the way your body immediately responds to him. He’s got you coming just as hard as the first time and he doesn’t give you a chance to second guess any of it. As the shocks rip through your body, you notice that Wonwoo does slow down his thrusts. Doesn’t pull out of you, though. You collapse forward and arch your back again so it’s easier to meet Wonwoo’s continued pace.
“You’re so good at listening,” he praises.
“Not usually,” you mumble into the pillow through the haze. 
“I must be special,” he says as he lazily fucks into you.
“Jesus Wonwoo, you can fuck me. I know you haven’t finished yet,” you grumble.
“In a rush to go somewhere?” he teases. 
“No, but it must be…well, I don’t know. Hard for you,” you mumble into the sheets. 
“I’ve got excellent control,” Wonwoo says, all confidence. “I’m not in a rush to end this.” 
Despite your instance, he continues to lazily snap his hips into you. It’s so slow, way too slow. He reaches down to pull you up against his chest again, still keeping the pace. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing them to anchor you to him. He rolls one of your nipples roughly between his fingers to see what he gets as a reaction. Your moan seems to spur him on further. Each time pain shoots through some part of your body, it only seems to turn you on more. It’s easy to forget why you agreed to this in the first place. 
For all the demands, Wonwoo is actually very attentive as well. He peppers kisses from behind your ear all the way down your shoulder and back, paying special attention to the areas that seem to get the best response from you. He’s also careful with where he nips you, never biting hard enough to leave a mark somewhere that couldn’t be easily hidden. The entire experience has been so all-consuming that there isn’t space for any other thoughts in your head. It’s just him and this hotel room that’s entirely too fancy. 
He must feel that you’re starting to get worked up because he pushes you back down into the bed. His pace finally picks up again, which is good because you’re sprinting towards being too sore to actually enjoy it anymore. The pace gets much faster again, not nearly as rhythmic as before. His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts. It’s the first time it actually feels like he’s losing control. 
“Oh my god,” you cry out. “I’m gonna come again. Oh my god!” 
“Me too,” he groans through a stuttered breath. “Fuck, where can I come?” 
“I don’t care,” you cry out. You’re about to have your third orgasm. “On my back, on my ass, I don’t fucking care, just come with me.” 
You press a finger to your clit to try and help you over that last bit to tumble over the edge so that Wonwoo can chase his own relief. The second your body starts shaking, you feel him pull out. He must pump his cock a few times because there’s a slight delay before you feel something hit your back. You feel a little proud with how much cum you feel on your skin, like maybe he was a little more affected by you than he wanted to let on. 
As soon as Wonwoo lays down next to you on the bed, you also collapse onto your side. The bed is soft, but your knees are still a little sore from spending so much time on them. Wonwoo immediately pulls you into him so that he can kiss you breathless. His hand is behind your head, keeping you from pulling away. The chemistry between the two of you is intense. Not something you were prepared for. It’s clear that if one of you doesn’t stop, then you’ll be fucking him again. And your body needs a break.
“I should get cleaned up,” you say when you pull back, more than slightly breathless. 
“Let me just get cleaned up a little and then you can take a shower,” he says. 
He presses a kiss to your temple and then gets up off the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He’s all lean lines and unexpected muscles. Nobody should be allowed to look the way he does, to look so good that Greek gods would be jealous. And yet here he is. 
A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom and arches an eyebrow at you. There’s a towel slung low around his hips in a way that should be a sin. “You’re going to make me think that you want more.”
“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to stand,” you joke as an answer.
It surprises you a little when he comes over to the bed and helps you up. That is, until you see the way his eyes take you in. There’s nothing soft there, only predatory. Like you’re a meal he wants to return to. Your brain still feels a little slow to catch up, but registers something like he’s analyzing you. Still, he helps you get to the bathroom, points out the toiletries, and then disappears back into the room. 
By the time you’re clean and wrapped in the softest bathrobe you’ve ever worn, Wonwoo is sitting at the table wearing shorts and his glasses with nothing else. He’s scrolling absently through his phone and picking at some snacks that hadn’t been there when you had gone to shower. You didn’t think you’d been in there long, so it’s surprising he was able to get something up so quickly. When he notices you’re out of the bathroom, he indicates the food.
“I ordered us some snacks and they were happy to get them up here quickly,” he says. 
You take a seat across from him a little apprehensively. This is the part that you hadn’t really considered. How do you excuse yourself from the situation in a way that ensures you’ll see him again? It’s not that you want to have a repeat, though there’s part of your brain that is not opposed like you should be. It’s just…well with the room and the toiletries and the fast room service, you’re sure that this is the man you’re looking for. Which, admittedly, might make things a little complicated. But, you do have a job to do.
“I guess I am hungry,” you admit and reach for something.
“Glad you’re not going to make me eat alone,” he muses. 
“You already paid for dinner and drinks, I wasn’t expecting more treats,” you admit. 
“Seems fitting after the mindblowing sex,” he says and watches you, a clear glint to his eyes. “I can’t get over how insanely hot it was to watch you squirt for me.” 
Your cheeks redden without your permission. He’s so free with admitting it even with the moment having passed. Maybe he’s more trouble than you realized. 
“Seems like I wasn’t the only one to enjoy myself if my back is any indication,” you toss out. 
“I really enjoyed the way you told me I could come on your back,” he shares.
“And my ass,” you remind him.
“I got that too,” he reminds you. “And what a nice ass it is.” 
“Careful or I’ll ask you to blow my back out again,” you say, voice slightly betraying that you’re affected by his very presence. 
“That makes me think you were going to head out and never see me again,” Wonwoo ventures.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you say, trying to be coy.
Wonwoo fixes you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. It nearly makes you squirm under the intensity. Is he just like that? The kind of person that does everything with that burning look in his eyes. 
“Let me ask you something, Agent,” he begins and your mouth runs dry. You do everything you can not to let him know that you’re a second away from losing it. “Do you fuck all your targets? Or am I special?”
The way he smirks at you lets you know that he knows he’s onto something. Knows exactly who you are. Or maybe who you work for, at least. He’s made you and you’re not entirely sure you’re safe anymore. You’re also not entirely sure what the best move is. Probably take half a second too long to decide if his face is any indication. 
“Agent? Target?” you laugh out. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 
“Don’t you?” he presses. “Really, we shouldn’t be lying to each other so early in the relationship.” 
“I’m here doing…” you start.
“Research, yes. That’s what you said. And you almost had me when it took so long to run into you again. Your Spanish is flawless. It doesn’t sound like someone that learned at some secret agency. You’re much better at languages than any of the other agents that have come after me. And waiting so long to meet me again, genius. It really had me second guessing who you were,” he says. “But then, you made a mistake. Do you know what it was?” 
“Going on a date with someone that’s clearly a little delusional?” you ventured. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Oh, I think you do,” he says, confident. “I’ll tell you where you fucked up. It was dinner tonight. No, not something you said or did because you were shockingly smooth with it. It’s that you agreed to it at all. I suggested a place no researcher would ever go to. Because it used to be the site of a religious monument, but it fell into disrepair. A local crime family took it over. Only locals bother going there, but no researcher ever would.” 
Your heart sinks. Through all your research and all your planning, you knew that you would never be able to get everything. There just wasn’t the time. So, you had to hope that the person you were chasing wouldn’t notice any small missteps. Or would write them off with your cover story. What you had not planned for was this. In all your careful consideration, you had not planned to go on a date with the art thief himself. He had you and he knew it. It’s hard to see the right path out of this. 
It had been a gamble to get close to him the way you had. A gamble that you questioned taking and took anyway. A gamble you took without clearing it with Seungcheol. Usually, getting close to a target this way, you talk to him to make sure that he thinks it’s a good idea too. Make sure that this kind of move will fit the profile for the person that you’re chasing. This time, you’re flying blind. You had gotten a little ahead of yourself. A little sloppy. This isn’t the type of work you’re known for. It’s not the reason that you were sent down to Buenos Aires to chase him on a secret mission. 
“One mistake,” you sigh with a shake of your head. 
“Yeah, just the one,” he agrees. 
“So why did you invite me back here?” you ask. 
Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m curious about you.” 
“Curious? You risked inviting me back to your actual hotel room over curiosity?” you ask, looking around. 
“Who’s to say this is actually my room?” he says with another casual shrug. You clock it on his face as soon as he says it. 
“No, it is your actual room. The comfort, the speed of the room service, the way things are laid out. It’s not staged. This is just where you’re staying,” you observe. That makes him smile in a way you’re not expecting.
“Good eye,” he agrees. “Now for my question. Do you fuck all your targets?” 
“No,” you say shortly. 
“Why even agree to go on a date with me, then?” he presses. 
You sigh and sit further back into your chair. Take a piece of fruit from the table to buy yourself some time. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a good decision, obviously. I wasn’t even sure you were my target. There was just…something about you.” 
“So you’ve never fucked a target before? I’m special?” he asks with a smirk.
“I didn’t say that,” you respond. “I just don’t usually fuck a target without clearing it first.” 
“Who knows you’re here with me?” he asks.
“Nobody,” you answer. It’s too honest. 
You’re not sure if you should have admitted that and even less sure if he’ll believe you. It is the truth, though. Nobody in the world knows where you are right now. It’s kind of a crossroads for you because Wonwoo isn’t dangerous. He’s never been violent, as far as your information shows. Despite being physically separated from your bag, you’re not exactly unarmed. And yes, he does look like he’s in shape, but you’re still confident that you can take him if it comes to that. Once again, your mind is running through a million calculations a second as you realize you definitely should have talked to Seungcheol. 
“I’m trying to figure you out,” he admits.
“How’s that going?” you ask sarcastically. 
“Not as well as it would normally,” he says. It’s something else that’s honest between the two of you. More honest than you’re expecting. ���Most people are too easy to figure out. It’s boring. Nothing about you makes sense to me.” 
“And what about me is so difficult for you to figure out?” you ask, still lacing your words with sarcasm. 
“You know, despite me figuring out that you’re after me, you’re actually the best agent that they’ve ever sent. You fit into your role seamlessly. You’re just the right amount of charming. You blend into your surroundings because you don’t try to do anything to dull yourself. Against my better judgment, I am impressed. And yet, you still decided to come on the date. You’re clearly the best they have and you’re still here,” he says, gaze soft but analytical on you. 
“I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” you say carefully. 
“Why?” he asks. 
“You disarm me,” you admit. “I know so much about you and yet, here I am. Unwilling to leave even though you know what I’m here to do.” 
“Do you still want to turn me in?” he asks.
“Are you going to disappear into the wind the second I walk out that door?” you counter. 
He regards you for a moment. A moment too long, really. It makes you squirm in your seat. This isn’t going at all how you would have imagined. “No.” 
“Why?” you ask.
“Because I’m waiting to see how this whole thing plays out. You haven’t said that you want to turn me in. I can see you’re conflicted about it. So, I’m going to see how this plays out,” he answers. He holds up a hand when you open your mouth. Seems to predict you’re going to ask why again. “Because…okay, look. I know this is really weird. I know you’re here to try and find me. But, you’re actually interesting and that sex was fucking good. So, I don’t know, call me cocky. I’m not ready to let you walk away just yet.”
“If I can walk at all,” you grumble. 
“You were walking just fine from the bathroom. Maybe I need to really make sure you can’t walk,” he muses. 
The eye contact is too much and you turn your head away. You’re positive he’s onto you, especially when you carefully cross your legs. It’s just that he’s right, isn’t he? You can sit here and pretend that you only slept with him to keep him close while you tried to figure him out. Can say that it was all just part of the job and you didn’t enjoy it. Can say that you wanted to take a different approach since nobody else has been able to catch him.
That’s also very clearly a lie.
Seungcheol likes to know what his agents are up to, particularly when it comes to agents like you that deal with secret missions. Since you started as friends before he had to retire to his desk, he’s also very protective of you. He hates it when you suggest using your charm on a target like this. So, no, this isn’t just another target. This is something else entirely. You have to admit that you actually enjoyed it. That you would like to do it again. That you actually don’t even want to leave his room because you’re not convinced you’ll ever see him again. Which is really stupid, isn’t it? You should not care if you never see him again. Unless it means that you failed your mission. That’s not why you’re worrying about never seeing him again, though. 
Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something else, your phone chirps from your bag. It’s a sign. You know it is. The sound is tied to Seungcheol. Which means he’s looking for a check-in. Which means you’re late, something that never happens with you. You’re standing up to get your phone before even realizing it. Wonwoo’s eyes track your movements. 
Cheol: hope you’re enjoying your trip! Send pictures when you can
It’s code. Sent through a normal message so that it doesn’t look suspicious. And so that it gives you the chance to ignore it if you’re not in a place where you can answer him. You don’t even hear Wonwoo approach as you’re mentally calculating how to respond to this.
“Is that code?” he asks and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his low voice by your ear. God, nobody should have a voice like his.
“It’s my handler, I guess you could say,” you answer.
“Are you going to call him?” he asks.
“He’ll worry if I don’t,” you say and realize it’s true. 
Wonwoo steps around you to grab his own phone and then returns to his position at the table. “I’ll be quiet if you want to call.” 
There’s something kind of hot about how he says it. Like he doesn’t actually want to let you leave. Or like it’s an order to stay. You’re not sure if you’re reading too much into it. When you look over at him, his eyes are on his phone, but his lips turn up in a smile. He knows your eyes are on him and he’s still playing a game. A game that you just might lose, for the first time in your life. 
With a sigh, you shake your head and just fire off a text in response. You don’t have it in you to call Seungcheol and you also aren’t exactly sure what to say. He’s always been able to read your tone like it’s his own. After telling him you might have a lead, he’s going to know something is wrong. This is going to be a problem.
You: it’s been amazing, i’m loving each new thing i get to see in person. I’ll have some pictures to show you tomorrow!
It’s a signal that you’re not going to have anything new to share with him tonight and not to contact you again until you check in the next day. You’re not really sure if this is the right decision, but you need time to clear your head. This is the only way that you can see getting that. It’s too hard to think about making a decision when Wonwoo is still half naked and looking at you like you’re prey. At least you can assume that you could take him if you needed to. Thankfully, he’s not really looking at you like that kind of prey. 
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” you say.
“And what will you do tonight?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you.
“I’m all yours, at least for tonight,” you say. 
You’re surprised the look he gives you doesn’t melt you into the floor. “I can work with that.”
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The next day brings more confusion than the night before. At least you’re back in your own hotel room and out of the intoxicating orbit of Wonwoo. The downside is that you couldn’t leave his bed without agreeing to lunch plans with him. Both of you wanted to get breakfast together, but hadn’t been able to get out of bed in time for that. You turned down his offer to just buy you new clothes so you wouldn’t have to leave his sight. Thankfully, he does seem to understand that you need a minute to process everything in the last 24 hours. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind.
That’s not what you need to focus on right now, though. You don’t have any more messages from Seungcheol, which is what you expected. Still, you need to call him before he doesn’t something to check on you. Like sending Chan to your hotel with some made up story. You don’t want to put anyone in that position. You also don’t really know what you’re going to say. When you left Wonwoo’s hotel room, he made it clear: the choice was yours. He wants to see you again and he also knows that he’s asking a lot. Too much, probably. So, he’s giving you a choice. If you show up at lunch to meet him, then you’re at least willing to get to know him a little more before deciding anything. If you stand him up, then he’ll know you can’t agree to that. It’s a major gamble for him because you know what he looks like and his real name. You have more than you need to put an end to years of his hard work. 
Nothing in your life has prepared you for this. Not really. Sure, you train for missions and you perfect your skills. But, emotions have never been part of it. It’s always been so easy to separate your humanity from your job. Kind of like you just switch of anything that makes you normal and go into mission-mode. You once compared it to being an actor because you’re just playing a part. None of it is real and none of it is really your decision. This is uncharted territory for you.
Once you catch your breath, you pull a device out of the secret pocket in your bag so that you can connect it to your phone. It’ll scramble the signals and make the line secure so that you can call Seungcheol. It’s a bit of normalcy that you’re craving in the madness around you. 
“Finally, I’ve been worried,” Seungcheol answers. 
“I answered you right away,” you point out.
“Yes, to say that you would not be calling me,” Seungcheol presses and you sigh.
“Because I don’t have anything new to report,” you say without even realizing when you made the decision. The lie flows so easily. “I’ve been cataloging everything on everyone I see at the museums and galleries. Cross checking the names coming into the country. Surveying anyone that sticks out as I check things out.” 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungcheol cuts in.
“I’m here to find him, though,” you point out. You’re not sure why you’re doing this. 
“I know,” he says. “But, I’d rather you be safe.”
“I’m always safe,” you lie. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. 
“I know, but I also know you’re competitive,” he says. “Remember, we’ve already sent no less than 6 teams to find him and they’ve all failed.” 
“I don’t fail, though. That’s why you sent me,” you say. You’re not even sure why you’re arguing with him. 
“Just be careful. What happened with that lead you thought you had?” he asks. 
“A dead end,” you say with a practiced sigh. “Does the intelligence say he’s still in the city?” 
“I can’t imagine he’d leave without taking anything,” Seungcheol says. 
“Good point,” you say. “I’ll keep looking.” 
“Do you want me to send back-up?” he asks.
“It’s your mission,” you say noncommittally. “If you think it’ll help and we can still fly under the radar, then by all means.” 
“I was thinking of Chan since he’s still kind of in the area,” he says.
“Ah, yeah, I’m not sure,” you admit.
“You’re right, I know. I do want you to formally meet him soon, though. But, definitely not mid-mission,” he agrees. “Just be careful and keep me updated. If it goes on too long, we’ll just pull you. Maybe he got spooked.” 
“Yeah, that works,” you agree. 
“See you when you’re back,” he says.
“See you,” you answer and hang up.
It feels awful to lie to him, of all people. He’s one of the only people that you’ve ever trusted in your life. The only one that knows exactly who you are, knows all your demons, and still accepts you. He knows just how many people are six feet under because of you, knows the ways you’ve had to use your body, knows the lies you’ve told and the people you’ve hurt, both physically and emotionally. He knows all your scars and he accepts it. Because you know all his scars, too. It sucks to lie to him.
Sometimes they say that indecision is still a decision. That’s where you are now. You can say that you haven’t made a decision about what you’re going to do with Wonwoo. You can say that you’re waiting for more information. But, in a way, you’ve made at least one decision in his favor. You didn’t tell Seungcheol that your lead turned out to be the art thief himself. No. Instead, you’re showering and getting ready to meet him again, about to make yet another decision. Maybe you were always going to agree to lunch rather than stand him up. He’s got a lot to lose here too. It’s far more complicated than it should be. 
Your head is a little in the clouds by the time you leave your room to head down to the lobby and out into the comfortable winter air. If you spend a little more time than strictly necessary making sure you look nice, well that’s your business. The only drawback is that you don’t have Wonwoo’s phone number, at your own insistence, and so he may think you decided to stand him up. That worry lasts as long as it takes for you to reach the lobby. That’s where you see him, sitting casually in an armchair with his eyes locked on you. There’s no reason for the way your heart skips over such a simple outfit. It’s just a t-shirt and a leather jacket. Why are you nearly losing your mind?
“What are you doing here?” you ask and he gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. It probably even puts your own smile to shame.
“I took a chance that you would decide in my favor,” he says and stands up.
“Confident,” you say, “but still, I was supposed to meet you at the restaurant since I hadn’t decided.”
“It’s a date. I’m picking you up,” he says and surprises you by placing a gentle kiss on your cheek . 
“Isn’t that chivalrous of you,” you comment while trying to convince your heart to stop beating out of your chest. 
“Shall we?” he asks and motions for you to walk ahead of him.
The chivalry doesn’t stop at picking you up at your hotel, unfortunately for you. He opens the door and then gently takes your hand. There’s a hand on your back when you step around him. He puts himself between you and any traffic. It’s the best anyone has ever treated you and you hate that you’re even noticing that. Now, you’re thinking that you should have stood him up for an entirely different reason.
Lunch feels like the most normal thing in the world. The real reason for being in this beautiful city doesn’t come up at all. Instead, you talk about life and interests. The type of music and food that you like. What you do in your free time. It’s exactly what you imagine first or second dates to be like. Not that you have much experience with actually dating. 
It only gets deeper from there with Wonwoo telling you more about himself. Not about how he really makes money, but it certainly helps you understand how he got involved and how he stays under the radar. As it turns out, he comes from a lot of money. He doesn’t say it in a way that sounds like he’s bragging. It makes sense, though. Everything about him screams old money, which fits the profile you put together. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks, the way he dresses. It doesn’t feel like someone that’s made his money from stealing art. You learn that he’s involved in a lot of charities, which surprises you a bit. You also learn that he sponsors students in a video game design program in his home country. There’s so much more to him than stealing art. In fact, that seems to be such a small part of who he is. It’s more than a little surprising, which is odd since it’s usually so hard to surprise you. It’s clear that he’s grown up around art. All this time and he’s just been hiding in plain sight. 
The two of you sit at lunch for so long that the servers finally, very politely, indicate that it’s time to leave. It’s never been this easy to sit with someone in your entire life. It’s a level of comfort that you should absolutely not feel with someone like Wonwoo. But, you can’t help it. You can’t help the way you feel around him. Can’t really fight the feelings that keep threatening to bubble up. 
The roads aren’t nearly as busy when you walk back towards your hotel. Even though it’s a tourist city, it still quiets down in the mid-afternoon when the local businesses close down. The tourists seem to use the time to also relax or take advantage of certain monuments being quieter. It lends itself to the comfortable silence that settles around you and Wonwoo on the walk. 
When you reach the lobby, you turn to face Wonwoo and your breath catches a little. The sun in July isn’t as strong, but it still provides a backlight like he’s some sort of dark angel. Which sounds insane, even if your head. There have been so many beautiful people in your life, yet this is the one that has you forgetting how to put words together. It’s like he knows exactly what you’re thinking when he steps into your space and takes your face in his hands. He kisses you so fiercely that you forget your name. It’s the kind of kiss that doesn’t look like much from the outside, but changes your entire world on the inside. 
“Well how am I supposed to go back to my room and leave you now?” you ask against his lips when he pulls back. You can feel the smile on his own lips when he kisses you again.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers. 
“No,” you whisper back and kiss him again.
“I don’t want you to leave me,” he says. 
That makes you pull back sharply so that you can search his face. Does he realize how that sounds? It makes you wonder if he means more than just tonight. What is he trying to do to you? How many ways can one man make you reconsider everything you stand for? Nothing about his face looks smug or even insincere. In fact, he looks the way you imagine you feel. A little smitten and a lot unsure of what to do next. 
“And what would I do instead?” you ask, though you have an idea where he’s going.
“Go pack a bag of some of your things and come stay with me for the next few days,” he requests. It’s just bordering on a demand, even though it’s clearly your call. 
“Are you crazy? We barely know each other,” you protest without much heat. 
“What better way to get to know each other?” he counters. He grabs your hips, pulling you close to his body so he can wrap his arms around you. “And think about it. I can see you’re still not sure what you want to do. If you’re with me, you’ll know where I am at all times. I can’t get into any trouble while you’re still deciding.” 
“I suppose you do make a point,” you concede. 
“I have never done anything this reckless in my life. So, I’m just asking for a chance,” he shares.
It’s a little insane for him to say this is the most reckless thing he’s done in his life. Surely, stealing art is crazier than this. Which would make you lean towards not believing him if it weren’t for the voice in the back of your head. That little voice that agrees with him. You’ve put your life in danger more times than you can count, but saying yes to the man in front of you feels like the most dangerous idea yet. Maybe it’s because you know it’s not your body you’re putting on the line, but your heart. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he means too. That he’s never taken the chance to chase someone like this. Or maybe you just want to believe that you might be special. 
All you can do is nod at him and watch the smile that breaks across his face. It’s honest, unguarded. It’s real. There’s nothing behind it except genuine happiness that you agreed to spend the next few days with him. Before you can second guess your decision, you give him one more kiss and nearly run up to your room. 
Being separated from him gives you the chance to actually catch your breath. To focus on what you need to bring with you. Since, apparently, you’re not going to reconsider if this is actually a good idea or not. You know you should. You know that this is another one of those moments that you chalk up to indecision when your actual decision could not be any louder. Again, you’re reminded of what you’re doing here. What you’re supposed to be doing here. This man is your enemy. He’s the person you’re supposed to be arresting and bringing into The Agency to face sentencing. You’re a good agent. You always put the mission ahead of yourself, your thoughts, your beliefs, or even your relationships. This isn’t a version of yourself that you recognize and it should stop you in your tracks.
Instead, you decide which dress to pack away and what pair of shoes looks best. For the first time in your life, you’re diving in first and asking questions later. Or never. 
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It shouldn’t be surprising that you end up naked in Wonwoo’s bed minutes after crossing the threshold to his hotel room. Not with how things have gone so far for the two of you. Yet, what is surprising is that the sex is even better than the night before. You’re catching your breath, tucked into Wonwoo’s side, body tacky with sweat but so impossibly happy. His hand that’s around you absently traces patterns into your skin. It’s honestly like you’ve known him for years. It’s insane to realize how comfortable you feel when that’s not something you ever experience. Not like this. 
It’s also shocking to you how much this man wants to share with you. He carries on your chats from lunch as if he hadn’t just fucked you into his mattress yet again. Like this means more than some dirty sex holed up in a hotel in a foreign city. Makes you feel like you might actually mean something to him, which is a very dangerous feeling to have. Both of you know that this can’t mean more than what it is. At least, you think you know that and you think he might too. But, there’s a clear understanding that you won’t talk about it. Not now, at least. 
Wonwoo decides that he wants to take you somewhere fancy for dinner. The type of place that you would never consider going to while on a mission. Though, you’re always prepared for anything. When you were packing up your things in your hotel room, you even grabbed a couple nicer dresses. All they needed was a quick steam, which the hotel staff had been only too happy to accommodate. Any protests about it being too much fell on deaf ears. He was set and the two of you were going to a famous restaurant. All you had to do was shower and get ready. Your dress would be ready by the time you needed it. 
It’s clear you don’t really understand the limits to Wonwoo’s wealth, if there even are any, when you arrive at the restaurant. It’s the kind of place where you usually need reservations well in advance. It’s not the kind of place you can just show up at. Despite that, the host leads you back to a semi-private area where you’re tucked into a corner booth. It’s clearly one of the nicest tables in the place. You think you catch Wonwoo sliding the host something when he shakes their hand before he turns back to you. All thoughts go out the window when he slides in right next to you, not leaving any space. 
Wonwoo’s Spanish really is very remedial and so you help him decipher the menu and order. It gives you pause when there aren’t prices anywhere on the menu, but he’s quick to wave off any concerns. Insists that it’s his treat. You don’t want to think that’s something you could get used to. It isn’t like you have any real trouble affording nice things. Your salary is high and you don’t have much to spend money on. This is a different level, though. It’s even different from the times you’ve gone on a mission and charmed your target. That always feels temporary. Like you’re something of an imposter. You don’t get those feelings here with Wonwoo.
Letting him pick out which outfit you wore may have been a mistake. You discover this once you get your drinks and the waiter leaves you alone. His hand rests possessively on your thigh, against the bare skin of your leg exposed by the slit in your dress. His body is angled towards you and he’s encouraging you to continue telling your story. But, he has to know he’s distracting, too, with the way his hand slides further up your thigh. What started as arguably innocent ventures quickly into dangerous territory. 
“You were saying?” he prompts. His hand is inside the fabric of your dress now, keeping you from pressing your thighs together like you want to. 
“I, uh…” you stutter as he digs his hand into the soft flesh there. “Wonwoo, aren’t you worried?”
“About what?” he asks innocently.
“Getting caught,” you hiss and look down at your lap.
“No, sweetheart, I’m not worried,” he says and you glare at him, “because you’re going to be good for me and be quiet.”
“I don’t know…” you start and stop as soon as his pinky grazes along your entrance through your panties. “Fuck.” 
“Doesn’t seem like you actually want me to stop,” he points out.
“I, fuck, you know I don’t but there are people,” you say softly.
“I paid good money for this table. I don’t think we’ll be disturbed,” he tells you. 
“I…” you start. When he pulls his finger away, you nearly whine.
“I need to hear you say you want it,” he says.
“What?” you ask, a little louder than you intended.
“Use your words,” he directs and you glare.
“Fuck you,” you hiss, earning a chuckle out of him. 
“Not yet,” he retorts.
“Fine, yes. I want your fingers inside me here in this damn restaurant,” you say.
He’s expecting this answer. It’s written all over his face. This time, he doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t waste any time because you may not have much of it. He simply pushes your panties to the side and slides his first finger into you. The angle doesn’t make it easy but his fingers are long and slender, like they were built for something like this. It’s hard to keep from making a sound, so you try to do anything to distract yourself from the way he pumps into you. Or the way he adds a second finger so quickly. 
When you pick up your drink to take a sip from the straw, you watch his eyes on you. They seem to darken the second that you wrap your lips around the straw. His fingers pump into you even faster. And his lips are demanding on yours when you set the drink back down. You moan softly into his mouth without really considering if anyone is paying attention or if they can hear you. His tongue tangles with yours frantically while he tries to get you off right in that booth. 
This is new for you. You definitely didn’t think you would get so turned on by the fact that anyone could walk back over to see what you were doing. Anyone could hear the noises you’re making. Anyone could figure it out. When he feels that your pussy clenching around his fingers, he pulls away from the kiss. Leans his forehead against yours so that he can whisper filthy things in the space between you. Tells you how good you feel and how he loves watching you when you’re about to come. Moans about how tight you are. How pliant you are for him. Reminds you to be quiet. Tells you he can’t wait to taste you on his fingers. That’s what finally pushes you over the edge.
Your fingers grip the edge of the booth underneath you as you come hard and fast. He lazily guides you through it and then follows through by bringing his fingers to his lips. It’s so hot that you consider asking if you can just leave and go back to the room to be fucked properly. But, then your stomach rumbles and you think better of it. It’s only another few minutes before the first course arrives with a slightly knowing look from the waiter. After that first course, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up, at least a little. You deem your panties ruined and just remove them, tucking them away into your bag. You’ll have to be a little more careful the rest of the night.
This dinner is somehow even better than the first and it has nothing to do with the place being expensive, though the food is definitely amazing. You also don’t think it really has anything to do with the way Wonwoo fingered you under the table. That’s definitely a first for you. Exhibitionism hasn’t been your thing before, but maybe he’s got you learning new things about yourself. It had only taken him a minute to realize that you weren’t wearing underwear anymore. It definitely took him another minute to regain his composure.
The thing that actually makes this dinner better than the first is the man across from you. With his walls down, the entire night just feels that much more. It’s one of the only times you’ve ever felt your own guard come down. It’s not smart and you don’t care. You think you probably look a little punch drunk to anyone that can see your table. Then, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes again and think he probably looks the same. You never really have the chance to enjoy dates, but even if you did, this would still probably top them all. It’s all the little things. The way Wonwoo carefully brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The way he offers you a bite off his own plate when you say it looks good. The way he brings your knuckles up to his lips and presses feather light kisses to them. 
“Are you going to insist on ordering dessert here too?” you ask after the main course. 
“I was thinking we might have dessert back in our room,” he says and you raise an eyebrow.
“Our room?” you question.
“Don’t test me,” he cautions. 
“I wouldn’t dare,” you say and lean into him to press a slow kiss to his cheek. Your hand brushes over his lap as a way to get closer.
“Is this you not testing me?” he asks when your hand brushes across his lap again.
“What? You can make me come on your fingers but I can’t tease you a little?” you ask innocently.
Wonwoo grabs your hand and anchors it on your own thigh. “We’re getting out of here and then you can show your appreciation however you want. We don’t need to give them more of a show.” 
It seems like it takes an eternity to pay the bill (which Wonwoo doesn’t let you see) and get a cab back to the hotel. The promise of something else simmers between you the entire time. Wonwoo keeps a hand on you the entire time. A hand on your lower back out of the restaurant, fingers intertwined with yours in the cab, an arm around you walking into the hotel. When you get into the elevator, he pulls you back against his chest as more people join. He masks it as affection and presses a kiss to your cheek, but you feel the desire beneath it. 
The moment you cross into the room, you slip out of your shoes and turn around to press a kiss to Wonwoo’s lips. The tension between the two of you is thick and it’s hard to remind yourself to come up for a breath. He overwhelms every one of your senses. There’s nothing but him in every corner of your brain when he kisses you like that. 
It’s almost embarrassing when he breaks the kiss and you chase his lips. “How about dessert?”
“I thought that was just your way of saying…” you start and he directs your attention to the table. There’s an assortment of fruit, whipped cream, and melted chocolate there. 
You’re a little hesitant when he starts to walk to the table. It just feels incredibly intimate, which is true for a lot of what's happened with Wonwoo. But, this still feels different. It feels like more, once again. Wonwoo realizes that you’re not behind him and turns back to you. He closes the space between you yet again and places a hand on your cheek, impossibly soft. 
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks. 
“I’ve never done…this,” you say softly into the quiet between you and him. 
“Pretty sure we’ve already fucked several times,” Wonwoo says to lighten the mood.
“No, I mean, this…I don’t know. The desserts and the whipped cream and chocolate. It just feels, I don’t know, intimate,” you admit. 
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assures you. 
It’s absolutely insane that you’re hesitating. It doesn’t have to be some super intimate thing. It’s not like Wonwoo hasn’t already seen every inch of you and gotten to know your body better than anyone should in that period of time. But, this is far beyond the point where you can convince yourself any part of this is for the mission anymore. This isn’t just to keep him close. This is no longer indecision, as much as you want to pretend that it is.
“Is this your go-to move, then? Have a bunch of sweets delivered to the hotel room and seduce people with being all gentle?” you ask.
“I’ve definitely never done this before,” he says and it’s too honest. 
Instead of answering him you just kiss him because it’s the only answer you can think of. Somehow, knowing that this is different for him too makes it feel less overwhelming for you. You drag him back towards the table until you’re leaning against it. Your back arches into him as he licks into your mouth. His hands wrap around you to keep you tight against his body. He pulls away again and you’re ready for it this time. 
Wonwoo reaches an arm behind you and dips a strawberry in some of the chocolate. He brings it to your lips and watches intently as you get your mouth around it. The first bite sends a little bit of juice and chocolate over your lips. Just as you’re about to wipe it away, Wonwoo pulls the remainder of the strawberry back and kisses it away. It’s like that one action unlocks any hang ups you have. You twist around to scoop up some whipped cream with your finger. Your eyes lock on Wonwoo as you slowly lick it off. With it still in your mouth, you kiss him hard, enjoying the way your tongues dance and the tastes. 
The two of you take turns dipping fruit and feeding it to each other. The kisses become more and more desperate in between feeding each other. It’s a little messy, though, so you unbutton Wonwoo’s shirt and slide it off his arms. He undoes your dress to slide it off your body, removing your bra along the way. You rid him of his pants and briefs as well so that you’re not the only one standing there naked. 
When you reach back to get more fruit, Wonwoo grabs your hand to stop you. There’s a question in your eyes that he leaves unanswered as he moves things out of the way behind you. Then, he’s sitting you on the edge of the table and reaching for the whipped cream, which also answers your question. He puts some of the topping on your breast and sucks into your skin to lick it off you. Your legs part on their own as you lean back on the table to encourage him to get closer. He swirls his tongue around your nipple before softly nipping at your skin. Without warning, he bites into the flesh of your breast and laves over the spot to soothe you. 
Food should not be this sexy. Maybe it’s just that it’s Wonwoo tempting you, but you’ve never been this turned on. His tongue is everywhere across your breasts and your stomach. Covering you in kisses while also licking the whipped cream or chocolate off of you. Your nails scratch down his back each time he nips into your skin. Somehow the sensations are everywhere all at once. You wrap your legs around his waist to anchor him closer to you. 
“I need you inside me,” you whine out with Wonwoo kissing along your neck.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asks into your skin.
“Feel for yourself,” you encourage. 
Wonwoo pulls away from your neck and looks at you with lust. He presses his fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without even thinking about it. They’re sweet as you swirl your tongue around them. “Fuck, that’s hot.” 
As if it’s confirmation, he ruts against you, seemingly hard just from all the making out and the food. You pull his fingers from your mouth and guide them to your already dripping pussy. He’s not the only one that’s gotten insanely turned on. As soon as you guide his fingers through your folds he groans again. 
Neither one of you is in the mood to wait and he doesn’t waste any time angling his hand so he can pump his fingers inside you. Just presses two fingers right in and adds a third to try and open you up. It makes you scream out, praising his fingers with how quickly they work you over. He removes his hand entirely too quickly and you’re whining at the loss. Wonwoo runs a hand along his cock, pumping a couple times and catching some of the precum to spread it along his length. It’s not enough, but you don’t really care right now. 
“Please, Wonwoo, I need you,” you beg.
“Feeling a little desperate, princess?” he teases, that cocky smirk back on him. 
“Just fuck me already,” you whine. 
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else, just lines himself up and presses his tip into you. It stretches you out and you’re a little surprised that he goes so slowly. Then, you realize that it feels like more when he’s inching into you like this. His eyes watch you for any signs of discomfort. He leans forward and catches your lips in the neediest kiss of the night when he bottoms out in you. You lean back onto your elbows, bringing him along with you. The kisses get sloppier as he starts to thrust into you. 
He pulls away from you to reposition and presses your leg up so that he can get deeper. You let your leg fall over his arm so that you don’t have to hold it up. The moans between the two of you are loud enough to drown out the sound of skin on skin as he fucks into you hard. You can’t help it, though, and you throw your head back in pleasure.
“Look at me,” he directs roughly. 
You moan in response but tilt your head back towards him. It feels like a chore and that’s when it occurs to you. Taking hold of his free hand, you move it to your throat. For a second, his eyes go wide and his pace slows. He’s searching your face for a clue before he grabs your throat a little more forcefully.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, fuck,” you groan out. “I’ll tap you if it’s too much.” 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he utters, flexing his fingers on your throat.
Somehow, Wonwoo seems to know the perfect amount of pressure. It’s just tight enough that it makes it a little harder to breathe, but not so much that it’s actually choking you. He seems more comfortable than when he did it the first time. It also makes it easier to keep your eyes on him the way he wants. Everything feels heightened and it’s entirely too soon that you’re rushing to your high. You clench your walls around Wonwoo and he fucks you harder, groaning at the increased tightness.
“Gonna come all over my dick again?” he asks and you moan. 
You can’t really say anything and you don’t want to. This is all you need. Your hand winds down your body and you look at Wonwoo with a question in your eyes.
“Go ahead, baby, touch yourself,” he directs you. 
Asking for permission to do anything is unlike you, but there’s something about wanting to please this man that drives you to all sorts of new things. You rub your clit in time with his thrusts and it seems like only moments pass before you’re tipping over that edge. 
Heavy breaths eventually subside to find Wonwoo slowly, almost lazily, fucking into you. His hands are now both on your hips as he waits for you to come down. You sit up with him still inside you and kiss him, slow and full of all sorts of unspoken things.
“You really are fucking amazing,” you say, voice a little hoarse. “You can move faster.”
“I was thinking we might need to get into the shower,” he says with a smirk, pressing a finger to your skin. You’re about to object when you watch him pull it away and it sticks. 
“Maybe I can take care of you in there, then,” you say and kiss him softly. 
His eyes seem to light up a little at that. He slides out of you gently and walks slowly into the bathroom. You meant what you said. Shower sex is definitely not your thing because it’s never as sexy as people make it out to be. It can be slippery and there aren’t really any good positions. That doesn’t mean you can’t help him out a little. 
Wonwoo has other ideas first, it seems. Once the water is warm enough, both of you get in and he lathers up a loofah to gently wash all the stickiness from your body. It’s gentle in a way you’re not expecting and impossibly thoughtful. You relax against his back with his arms around you while he makes sure all the remnants are gone. 
When you’re clean, you turn around to face him and kiss him hard. The water falling on your back creates the perfect sensation with the heat between the two of you. He gathers you against his body, hands sliding down to grip your ass. It’s all you can do not to melt right on the spot. You think that you could probably kiss this man for the rest of your life and never get bored. Or never fully prepare yourself for the way it makes you feel. 
You drop to your knees and take his cock in your hand. He leans back against the wall of the shower as he looks down on you. It’s crazy to you how turned on this man gets (or stays) just from kissing or skin contact. No matter what, his body always seems to be ready for you. You run your tongue along his length and swirl your tongue around the tip. You’re impatient and you know he’s been waiting, so you don’t waste any time before you suck him into your mouth. You relax your throat and swallow as much of his cock as you’re able to, alternating between bobbing and hollowing out your cheeks. 
“You look so good looking up at me like that,” he groans. 
You hum around his dick and Wonwoo grabs the back of your head to anchor you there. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes before he releases you and you can get a breath. Even in this position, you can tell that you actually have control over this man. It’s a great feeling since he’s been in control every other time. His hips buck when you suck him back into you. It’s definitely a powerful feeling. The groans also tell you what you already know, you’re good at this. He’s putty in your hands. 
With a few more bobs, he’s coming down your throat and then slumping back against the shower wall. It doesn’t stop him from helping you up off your knees. You pepper light kisses along his collarbones before he surprises you and pulls you into another kiss. It’s never been your experience that a man wants to kiss you like that, but he doesn’t shy away. 
“We better get out of this shower before we run through all the hot water,” he says between kisses.
“You’re right,” you say with a sigh. 
The two of you step out of the shower and Wonwoo is quick to wrap you up in a towel. It takes everything in you to tell your heart to calm down. You know Wonwoo feels all the same things you do. Even if he's not free with vocalizing his emotions, his actions tell you exactly what he’s thinking. If you know where to look, that is. You’re realizing that you definitely know where to work. 
Twenty minutes later, your skin care routine is done and you’re curled up in bed in one of Wonwoo’s oversized t-shirts. You know your alarm is going to be too early tomorrow since you need to check in with Seungcheol, but all you want to do tonight is curl up and talk more with this incredibly interesting man. 
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Something seems to shift now that you’re holed up in Wonwoo’s hotel room with him for the next however many days. Before, he seemed hesitant to talk about the real reason you two crossed paths. You’re not sure what causes the change or why he trusts that you’re not going to just turn around and burn him. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t done it yet. 
“What made you want to start stealing art?” you ask while the two of you are sitting outside on the balcony. This room really is too nice. It almost makes it hard to leave and explore. 
“I don’t know if it was that I wanted to steal art,” he chuckles. 
“Okay, how did you start, then?” you ask with an affectionate eye roll. 
“It’s going to sound stupid,” he says with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I guess, I don’t know, I grew up in this house where nobody ever seemed to care what I was doing. I stole the first piece from my parents and sold it off to someone I’d met at this underground club. I figured my parents would catch me and then at least I’d have their attention for a minute.”
“I’m guessing they didn’t catch you,” you comment.
“They didn’t even notice it was gone,” he says with a chuckle. “How old were you?” you ask.
“16,” he answers immediately.
“So you’ve been doing this…?” you start, doing the math in your head.
“12 years, yeah,” he says. “It took awhile to get to the point I’m at now. I think for a while I was figuring that my parents would somehow catch on and give a shit about my life. By the time I was 19, I was really good at it and I’d made a lot of contacts. I still moved in all those circles so I never looked out of place at a gallery or a museum. Nobody looked twice at me.”
“Did it ever get lonely?” you ask and Wonwoo regards you for a moment. “I just mean that you were still part of all these circles. You still went to all these parties and it seems like none of them knew you at all. You were hiding in plain sight because nobody knew you well enough to see it.”
“I had the networks of people that I sold to or accepted jobs from,” he says.
“But everything I’ve ever seen says that you rarely met with those people in person. It was always online contact and leaving pieces somewhere after the money had been wired,” you share.
“I guess your agency got a few things right,” he mumbles.
“It sounds loney,” you say sympathetically.
“I wish you were a little less observant,” he says like he’s trying for a joking tone. 
It’s immediately obvious that he’s a little tired and definitely lonely. You can’t really imagine that type of life. Sure, you’ve been working on your own or with a single partner for your entire adult life. But, you’ve still been part of an organization. There are people that know you at your core. There are people that you can turn to when everything in life feels like it sucks. No matter how bad things get, you know there are people out there who can support you.
Almost involuntarily, a series of images pop into your head. Wonwoo in a suit at a charity gala, the type of person that everyone wants to approach. You can imagine people whispering behind their hands about going to speak to him or ask him to dance. Maybe trying to approach him at the bar. Then you see him just as clearly at home afterwards, alone and sitting on his couch with a drink in hand. You see him perusing a museum to get the lay of the land so that he can steal it later. Once again, alone. You see how he probably sits at home communicating with all his potential buyers. 
Wonwoo reads the look on your face and assures you that it’s probably not as bad as you’re imagining things. Yes, he admits that he’s lonely sometimes and that he’s alone more than he’s with other people. It’s hard for him to let anyone in. He doesn’t want to have to account for his time or trust that they won’t blow his cover. There’s nobody in his life that he can be totally himself with, at least not until meeting you. But, he insists that it hasn’t been so bad. Mostly, he prefers to be on his own anyway. He likes the quiet and the solitude. Likes to be able to enjoy his down time however he likes. He gets enough socialization when he goes to events as he’s expected to. 
Which brings up a question. After over a decade of doing everything solo, why has he trusted you with all of this now? His answer comes more immediately than you would expect, yet it makes sense. You have something to lose here, too. Possibly even more than he does. After all, there have been a lot of teams that have been close to unraveling his mysterious identity. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be tracking him down. Not spending time locked away in his hotel room with him. That brings you up a little short because he’s right and you’re not planning on going anywhere. 
He admits that you intrigue him. All his life, Wonwoo has appreciated a good puzzle or a good challenge. You present both to him, though it hasn’t been as much of a challenge to get you to give him a chance as he expected. It is a challenge to try and unravel you. To try and figure out what made you say yes to the date and what makes you stay now. You also meet him on a level that nobody ever has before. You nearly blush at the way he describes your intelligence and how he feels more turned on by your brain than anyone before. Normally something like that would make you cringe. But, somehow Wonwoo makes it sound both sexy and endearing. You’re just as challenged by him, too, so maybe you get it. 
It also brings up some very conflicting feelings in you because it’s a reminder that you have a life entirely separate from him. You have a life that doesn’t allow you to account for this time. At some point, you have to make a final choice. It’s way too late to just turn Wonwoo in without any sort of repercussion. It’s too late to act like this is all just in the name of bringing down one of the most difficult targets you’ve had to track. In the name of getting to know Wonwoo better, you’ve also shared a lot about yourself. A lot that someone like Seungcheol would be able to clock immediately as being true. Every moment you stay with Wonwoo makes your future more complicated. Things are already too hazy. 
“Okay enough heavy stuff,” you declare and stand. “Let’s go do something.”
“Such as?” he prompts. 
“We’re in a beautiful city, let’s go see some of it,” you suggest.
Wonwoo wants to take a minute to actually plan something, but you veto that. He’s definitely not the spontaneous type, which you figured out before you were even sure who he was. It makes more sense now, knowing who he is. So it feels like more of a win that he relents and agrees to just go with the flow. It’s not as if you’ll be flying totally blind anyway. You did a lot of research before coming down for the mission and you know a lot of the places to see, both tourist places and some that are off the beaten path. 
Once you’re outside of the hotel room, things feel different in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. Everything in the hotel room feels real in the sense of getting to know each other. The conversations can be heavy and there’s that constant need to rip each other’s clothes off. Being outside exploring a foreign city feels real in an entirely different way. None of the conversations are heavy since you’re just appreciating the sights. But, you and Wonwoo trade off in taking pictures of each other (or even snap some together) and it feels like a glimpse at another life. It isn’t a fantasy world because it does feel real, but it doesn’t feel like an actual reality either. It almost feels like a mission you’re on where you and him would pretend to be a couple. You have to remind yourself this is actually a mission and you’re running around with your target because Wonwoo isn’t your partner.
When you’re in Plaza de Mayo, you take a step back to allow Wonwoo to purchase something to eat. It’s too cute to watch him stumble through his Spanish, constantly looking over at you as if asking for help. All you can do is smile as he mixes up hombre and hambre. The older woman putting the food together only smiles softly. There’s something incredibly cute about watching this stoic man get flushed over ordering in another language. 
The next few days follow mostly the same pattern. You wake up earlier than Wonwoo so that you can pretend to work on the mission and actually check in with Seungcheol. Wonwoo pretends that he’s still asleep sometimes. Other times, he gets up and works on his own things. It’s cute that he’ll do anything to make it seem like you have privacy. Breakfast in the room always comes next because it’s an easy way to get ready for the day. 
The days themselves are all a little bit different. You see the Piramide de Mayo, the Floralis Generica, the monuments to Juana Azurduy and General Jose de San Martin, Teatro Colon, the planetarium and several other interesting sights. The planetarium is a personal favorite of yours because it’s just kind of weird in an affectionate way. It’s hard to truly pick a favorite though because each new stop teaches you more about the local culture. It’s the kind of place that just makes you want to fall in love with it. There’s so much beauty and so much to appreciate. Each new stop also seems to involve learning something new about Wonwoo and somehow him trying his hand at Spanish again, only to fail. You’re wondering if he does it just to entertain you. 
While you’re seeing all the tourist spots, you take time to see the things the locals recommend as well. Sometimes that’s hole-in-the-wall food places or stands that someone mentions. Other times it’s a park that’s too out of the way for tourists. Even other times still, it’s a hidden access point to the beach. Thankfully, it’s still cool out and getting Wonwoo to agree to the beach isn’t difficult. You idly wonder what it would be like to try and get him to visit the beach in January when it’s the dead of summer. 
You want to try as many local dishes as you can while you’re there, too. Given his way, Wonwoo would probably eat in the hotel room just as much as out of it, but you don’t know when you’re going to get this chance again. So, even though he’s worn out from spending so much time around people, he lets you drag him out again every night. He even seems to enjoy himself.
At the start of whatever this is, it was always you asking Wonwoo all the questions and trying to volunteer as little about yourself as possible. You’re still an agent and you’re still supposed to be after him. The least you can do, while you’re totally ignoring your mission, is try to better understand Wonwoo and his motivations. Even if you don’t end up turning him in, it's an invaluable experience to get to look into the mind of a criminal. When will you get another chance like this? When will you be this close to someone to ask personal questions? No part of you even considers that he’s lying to you. You’re positive that he answers everything truthfully.
Somewhere along the line, it shifts. Maybe because you know everything you want to know about the man across from you. Or maybe because you genuinely feel comfortable about him. Either way, he’s the one that’s asking you questions now. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t want to know anything about your work. He doesn’t seem to care about any of that. There’s a nagging thought that thinks he might just be trying to make you comfortable. You try to quickly brush it away, though, and just answer any of the personal questions he asks. Wonwoo wants to know the simple things like where you grew up, what your family was like, and what you wanted to do when you were younger. The things that allow him to really know you. It’s terrifying. 
By the time you get back to the hotel that night, you’re exhausted. It feels like it’s been a never ending span of days in the best way. You collapse on the bed without changing. All you manage to do is take off your shoes. Wonwoo leans over you and kisses you, softly at first. But, like every other kiss with him, it leaves you gasping for air after a minute.
It’s amazing how he seems to take your breath away and even more amazing how he always seems like he’s ready to tear your clothes off. You’ve never had someone like him in your life. But, that also brings you back to reality. Wonwoo asked you to give him a few days staying in his hotel room. It’s definitely been longer than that without either of you seeming to notice. There’s a level of comfort that neither of you talk about given that this all has an expiration date. And that expiration date is rapidly approaching. 
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Staying with Wonwoo turns out to be longer than either of you planned and neither of you has a complaint about it. You’ve been checking in with Seungcheol every morning and Wonwoo pretends not to listen. It’s been like living in a little bubble where reality isn’t a concern. 
That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? This isn’t real life, not for you. This isn’t something that lasts long term or that you can even sustain. The reality is still there. Wonwoo is one of the most infamous art thieves to ever live and you work for a secret agency tasked with bringing criminals like him to justice. You’re not exactly sure what the last however many days have been. All you know is this is just a break from reality. A brief glimpse into an alternate life that can never be. It’s been amazing and something you won’t ever forget. You’re hoping that you’re both on the same page about that, at least.
“I should probably go back to my hotel today,” you say. 
Wonwoo looks up from across the room where he’s reading while you pretend to work on your case. It helps to at least log in to the system. “To get more stuff?”
“I can’t stay here forever,” you point out. 
“No, I expect at some point we’ll leave and head to the next place,” he agrees with a shrug. 
“We?” you ask, eyebrows flying up. 
“Yes, we,” he says like suddenly you’re slow on the uptake. “I’ve got a few places in mind that I’d love to take you, but it’s really up to you.” 
“Wonwoo,” you start and your heart sinks.
You are definitely not on the same page. Probably not even in the same book, if you’re honest. Everything over the past days with him has been amazing. The perfect little escape from your reality. But, that’s all it’s been: an escape. Or maybe that’s all you’ve let yourself think it was. Anything else seems like entirely too much. His face drops as he watches you.
“You’re not coming with me,” he realizes.
“I didn’t even know you would want me to!” you state, too loud for the space.
“How could you not? I’ve been telling you all the places that I wanted you to see,” he says and that hits you harder than a physical blow. He’s been giving you all the signs that this isn’t just a bubble.
“I didn’t think you were serious,” you point out.
“Clearly,” he says, voice thick with disappointment. 
“Wonwoo, come on. It’s not like I can just, what? Run away?” you say.
“Oh, no, there’s a whole life waiting for you back at your precious agency,” he says with derision. 
“It’s all I’ve ever known,” you plead.
“And I’ve shown you that there’s more to life than whatever this is for you,” he counters.
“I can’t just leave them,” you say with a shake of your head.
That seems to make Wonwoo angrier than you expect. “No, of course not. How silly of me. You have to get back to your handler that so clearly loves you.” 
“Seungcheol does not love me. We’re friends, sure, but that’s it,” you disagree.
“Let’s pretend that’s true and it’s normal for a handler to speak to you the way he does. Or that it’s normal for him to worry so much about your safety. Who are you going back to apart from him? Who’s waiting for you?” Wonwoo asks.
The questions wash over you like acid rain. Painful and harsh and unrelenting. The worst part is that he’s right. You have wondered if there are some feelings there from Seungcheol. You also don’t have anyone waiting for you. It’s really a half-life, if you’re being honest. Less than a half-life, probably. The past few days with Wonwoo are the most alive you’ve felt since you were a child, before joining the agency. 
“I can’t just…this is my job, Wonwoo. And you’re an art thief. A very famous one and…” you start.
“Have I stolen anything here?” he asks and that brings you up short.
“Well, no, of course not. You’ve been with me,” you say simply.
“And I will leave this city without stealing. I will switch careers entirely if it’s that important, though it doesn’t seem like it is since you haven’t turned me in,” he says and it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’ve been all over the globe trying to feel something. Trying for anything. I started stealing because I could. I wanted to get the attention my parents never gave me. I kept going because I was looking for a challenge, which it is, at least sometimes. I was looking for someone, I think. Then, I find you and you’re everything I didn’t know to ask for. But, you’re telling me some job where you can’t even have a life is more important than this? That my job, which I’m completely willing to give up, is too much of a barrier?”
“I have a life,” you scoff.
“Really?” Wonwoo challenges and folds his arms. “When was the last time you went on a real date? Not with a target, but a real date just with someone you wanted to know? When’s the last time you let yourself just breathe and explore a city? When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”
“Plenty of people are married to their jobs,” you begin.
“I thought you were brave, you know,” Wonwoo muses. “I thought you were someone who would realize how rare this is. It’s not like everyone is lucky enough to meet a person that completes them like this. I guess I was wrong. I guess all I was really good for was fucking you and that’s all it was.”
“Of course that’s not all it was,” you disagree. There are tears threatening to spill over. This isn’t at all how you imagined it going. You weren’t prepared for him to try to fight for you. “The last few days with you have been everything I never thought I’d experience. But, it hasn’t been real, Wonwoo. It can’t be real. Life doesn’t work that way.” 
“Why can’t it?” he fires at you.
“Because I don’t deserve it!” you scream, tears finally streaming down your face. “Because you don’t know my scars. You don’t know the things I’ve done. You don’t know the mistakes I’ve made. You don’t know that I have demons that are constantly chasing me.” 
“I’m a fucking criminal,” he points out. “Who am I to judge?”
“Exactly,” you agree but rush to finish your thought before Wonwoo can interject. “You don’t…question the decisions you’ve made. You stand on everything you’ve done. But, you also do so much good with charities and helping students and just giving back. Plus, I’ve looked at your crimes. You only ever stole from the rich to sell to other rich people.”
“Yet you still were sent to chase me,” he points out. 
“Yeah, who do you think pays our salaries?” you ask flatly. “My point is that…I don’t know. I’m standing here across from you and I feel like I’m the infinitely worse person in this situation.” 
“It really can’t be that bad,” he reasons.
“I’ve taken lives, Wonwoo. More than I can count. And without even questioning if our reasoning was solid for taking them out. I’ve used my body in ways that I may never recover from, thinking it was my choice at the time. I’ve done what I was told and I’ve been good at it. Too good, maybe,” you say. You’re talking to yourself more than him at this point. “I’m the one they send when they don’t want a record. I’m the one they send when nobody else can do it. I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life training and doing what I was told. It’s given me scars that you can’t see and won’t ever heal. All I know is this. They’re not just going to let me go. And even if they did, you don’t deserve all the baggage that I come with. You’re not a bad guy.”
“And you think you are? A bad guy?” he asks.
“I know I am,” you say.
“That’s all you are if that’s all you see, but I see so much more,” he argues. 
“I still can’t just ask them to walk away,” you press.
“I wasn’t suggesting that you ask,” he says. “You deserve a chance to start fresh. To see what you can be without the weight of the world hanging over your head.”
“I don’t deserve anything more than what I have now,” you disagree.
“What about love? Do you deserve that?” he asks, changing directions.
“I don’t know,” you admit.
“And me? Do I deserve love?” he asks.
“Yes, without question,” you answer immediately.
“So give me the chance to experience love,” he begs. “I never thought I’d love anyone and I’ve never taken this kind of chance on anyone. But, I’m asking you for a chance. Just one more.” 
There’s so much tension in the air between you. So many things still left unsaid and so much emotion. The air between you and him seems to crackle. A storm brews behind his eyes as he waits for you to answer him. It seems insane to think that he could feel that for you after such a short time. But, really, what do you know? You have unquestionably never been in love before, not really. There’s never been the time or space for it in your line of work. Relationships never seem to get deeper because you’re always keeping secrets. Can’t ever tell them what you really do for work. And then there’s Wonwoo. He knows so much about you already and even though it’s barely scratched the surface, it’s still more honest than you’ve ever been. He doesn’t want to run away and that scares you more than any mission you’ve ever had.
It’s just…it’s too much to decide now. You spend your whole life having to make split second decisions, yet can’t about this. Don’t have the data that you have on missions. Don’t know the pros and cons. It’s uncharted territory. It’s scary in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve stared down the barrel of too many guns and this still feels infinitely more terrifying. Maybe he can love you after such a short amount of time because he seems to realize what you’re going to say before you say it. 
“Don’t,” he says softly when you open your mouth. “I’m going to leave the day after tomorrow. I’m going to set the flight to leave at 1 in the afternoon. That gives you time to change your mind.”
“And if I don’t reach you before then?” you ask softly.
“Don’t ever expect to find me again,” he says with a finality that surprises you. When you meet his gaze, it’s harder than you’re expecting. “I really care about you and I’d love you to come with me. But I know how stubborn you are. It’s part of why I love you so much. So I’m leaving my heart open until the day after tomorrow. Then it’s over.”
“You’re an amazing person, Wonwoo,” you say and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve challenged a lot of my ideas about right and wrong. I’ll never forget that.” 
“I’m not accepting this as goodbye. I’ll still hope to see you before I leave,” he says and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead. 
Your throat is too tight to say anything in response to that. All you can do is gather up your things and head out of the hotel room. Everything in your body feels tired from the unexpected heaviness of the conversation. It hurts to see Wonwoo looking so hurt. As crazy as it sounds, you do mean that he deserves the absolute best. You also meant it that made you rethink a lot of your preconceived notions. You actually questioned things for the first time in your adult life. Despite all of that, you still walk right out of the hotel room.
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You spend nearly every minute after walking out of Wonwoo’s hotel room considering his offer. Go as far as scheduling your flight out of Buenos Aires for the same time as his. Genuinely, you’re not sure what you want to do. At least Seungcheol understood failing the mission. Somehow, he still sees it as a win that nothing was stolen from anywhere in the city while you were there. He assumes that your presence somehow spooked the notorious art thief. Thankfully he doesn’t realize just how right he is. 
The biggest surprise is that Chan, the slightly overeager agent from the flight down, will be meeting you when you get on the plane. He’s only wrapping up a second mission that popped up in the area. The Agency is sending him along so that you can debrief about your actual mission and start looping him in going forward. Apparently, as great as you are and as (almost) perfect as your record is, the agency still wants to have someone for you to work with when you need them. Since that can’t be Seungcheol, he’s recommending a promising younger agent. This apparently also includes you being the one to tell him all of this yourself. 
The airport is busy when you get there, an unsurprising side effect of planning flights during the afternoon. There’s also the fact that private planes have to leave from the international airport, which is always somewhat packed. Getting through customs and security is surprisingly smooth and soon you’re going to have to face your literal crossroads. 
In one direction is the familiar. Nothing about working for The Agency is easy. There’s a sense of routine to it, though. A sense of generally knowing what your days or weeks or even months will look like. You know how to make coffee in the shitty break room when you’re actually on site (a rarity). You know how to play nice with the other agents. You know how all the tech works. And you’re good at the missions themselves. That’s just to say you don’t have to learn anything new. You’re lucky enough to have a semi-boss that you get along with. There’s a sense of routine to everything from mission briefings to flights to the missions themselves. There’s comfort in knowing you don’t really have to make the decisions. Sure, you have to figure out which course to take on the ground with a mission. But, that usually only means picking option A or B. All of the possible courses of action come in the briefing. You just have to evaluate the factors and figure out which pre-determined option fits best. It’s easy. As fucked up as it might be to admit, you like doing something that you know you’re good at. It’s nice to get praised for constantly succeeding. It’s the easy decision.
And in the other direction…well, it’s the unknown. Being with Wonwoo has been nothing short of the best feeling of your life. The most alive you’ve ever felt. It’s kind of crazy but part of you thinks you may love him. Can see how the whole future plays out, even if it’s not crystal clear. The two of you could start over somewhere new where he doesn’t have to steal art and you don’t have to chase criminals with questionable methods. Both of you have the funds (even if he’s better set up) to start over. Both of you clearly have the skills to disappear into the wind, too. It’s not like your legal name exists anywhere anymore. Very few people even know it, not that you would go back to it. 
It’s easy to get lost in the daydream. As much as you love the sun of Buenos Aires, you can’t imagine Wonwoo in a place like that during the actual summer. Everything about him makes you think of somewhere cooler, somewhere that you’re not constantly sweating. That would let you take breaks to sunnier weather. Places where you could soak up the sun while he took refuge under an umbrella, watching you with all the affection in the world. Actually, you can picture visiting a lot of places with him. He would be the perfect travel partner to see all the beautiful corners of the world that you’ve never been able to appreciate. It’s like going somewhere for a business trip. You’re there working, not to appreciate everything around you. 
There’s something kind of poetic about being at an airport as an actual crossroads in your life. It’s like you can get on a plane going anywhere. Quite literally, since you’re not sure where Wonwoo’s plane is going. Not that it really matters. If that’s the path you pick, then it’s for him rather than the destination. 
The only question left is whether you’re ready to leave your entire life behind. Are you ready to say goodbye to the agency that saved you? Are you ready to cut yourself off from the few people who actually know you and accept you as you are? Can you live without having any closure on that part of your life? Would you feel guilty that Seungcheol would be left with a million questions about what happened to you? Or would it hurt you to know that he would blame himself for your disappearance somehow? Then again, maybe he would know, on some level, that you just finally reached the point of needing to walk away. That’s something you and him have talked about before, in the early hours of the morning after too much to drink. What would you do if you could walk away from this life? What would life after The Agency look like? 
With a deep breath, you pick your path and you don’t look back. That’s the only way you know you’ll have the strength in your decision. 
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i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please reblog or comment and let me know 💕
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dollishmehrayan · 28 days ago
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# “THE WOMAN WAS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK…” ── .✦ ( batboys w an unhinged!reader and blunt!reader )
a/n: this is from my little brain of mine , and I like to honor it for @kyriakis anywhoo I’m back and omg 1k?! Alsoo guys dw! I’m gonna do the event tomorrow && I’m gonna pick out some prompts I have organized, so i didn't forget okay but i just got a lot of DMs asking when I’m gonna do it for you guyss so yeah it’s gonna be tomorrow since I’m gonna re-edit + add some ideas of your guys votes!! Tags: (batboys x unhinged!reader)
© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )
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DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
He’s always caught off guard but loves it. Your bluntness is a breath of fresh air for Dick, who’s so used to diplomatic conversations. You say whatever’s on your mind with zero filter, and he’s like, “Oh, wow. Okay. I respect it.”
Hates it when you don’t hold back with him. He’s used to being the charming, funny guy who makes everyone laugh, but you hit him with a “That was dumb, don’t do that again” and his brain short circuits for a second. “You can’t just say that!” “Why not?”
Finds it hilarious when you wreck other people’s egos. You have zero time for anyone’s nonsense, and when someone messes up, you let them know. Dick’s in the background, trying not to laugh. “Do you not think before you speak?!…” He’s always acts so shocked but hey, he’s kinda enjoying it unless it’s aimed at him. (He can’t fight verbally for the life of him without saying some cringe shit)
Doesn’t even try to change you. Dick knows what he’s getting into, and he loves you for it. He’s never going to ask you to ‘tone it down.’ He actually finds your unapologetic attitude pretty hot.
He’s 50% worried you’ll get into trouble, 50% impressed. But in the end, he’ll always back you up, saying, “She’s just honest. Get used to it.”
JASON TODD ── .✦
Finally, someone who speaks his language. Jason lives for the fact that you don’t care what people think. He loves how blunt you are, especially when you cut through the BS with the precision of a sharp knife.
Gets protective when people try to push your boundaries. If someone dares disrespect you, Jason’s the first one to step in. “You’ve got a problem with her? You’ve got a problem with me.”, “Jason that was so fucking cringey..”
Appreciates that you don't sugarcoat things for him. You’ll tell him exactly how it is, whether it’s about his attitude or a bad decision he made, and he respects it, it’s like the tt sound where “that’s when it hit me, it was the best idea I ever had..” but like this: “Not gonna lie, that was a terrible plan, Jay,” and he’ll just nod. “Fair.”
You guys have the most chaotic, weirdest conversations. It’s a mix of witty banter, ridiculous one-liners, and deadpan sarcasm. Other people can’t even keep up with the energy.
The idea of dating a ‘good girl’ never appealed to him anyway. He thrives off your unhinged energy. You’re unpredictable, and it keeps him on his toes, which he loves. “Yeah, you’re definitely not boring.” (Although the thing is he does love innocent people, like if you’re like gen clueless he wants preserve your innocence.)
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
Tim’s brain can’t keep up with you. Your blunt, no-nonsense attitude constantly makes him blink in confusion. One minute you’re casually roasting someone, and the next, you’re giving a straight-up critique of his latest plan. He’s learning that he can’t outthink you.
He admires your unapologetic honesty. Tim has a lot of internalized doubts, so watching you casually reject anyone’s judgment is a nice contrast. You don’t apologize for your thoughts, and it’s something he secretly admires.
Constantly second-guesses himself around you. Your sharp tongue makes him want to be as confident as you. He gets nervous about saying anything that might sound soft, so when he stumbles, you’re like, “What was that? I swear you just whispered something.” And he’ll blush hard, muttering an apology.
You both have a sarcastic sense of humor that others don’t quite get. You say something outrageous, and Tim will respond with the driest remark possible. People in the room often wonder if you two are joking or just genuinely a bit rude.
Not scared to call him out. When Tim’s too nice, you’ll be like, “You need to stop letting people walk all over you. Grow some teeth.” Tim won’t admit it, but that does motivate him to be a little bolder.
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Damian is a bit taken aback at first. He’s used to people being respectful or like seeing him as kinda a role model, so when you come out with a “That’s dumb, don’t even talk to me right now,” he’s not sure how to handle it. He will stand there, blinking, while processing your bluntness. (He’s too stunned to speak 😞)
Genuinely respects your forthrightness, though. “I’ll admit, I have never met someone so… honest.” He starts respecting you even more, thinking you’re someone he can’t manipulate or charm easily.
Loves that you’re as stubborn as he is. If you’re determined about something, there’s no changing your mind. You’ll fight for your opinions even if it gets you into a heated debate. And Damian’s right there with you, arguing like it’s the most fun thing in the world.
Tries to match your bluntness. “You talk too much,” he says one day, and you immediately reply, “And yet, here you are, listening to every word I say.” Damian actually pauses for a second, impressed. “Right..”
Loves how you’ll shut down his critics with zero hesitation. Someone says something disrespectful to him, and you’ll be the first to shoot back, “He doesn’t need your advice, trust me.” He’ll give you a proud little smirk. “I like the way you handle things.”
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
At first, Bruce is a bit disconcerted by your bluntness. Bruce’s the kind of guy who expects people to be formal and classy, and you just come in with “This entire meeting is a waste of my time. I don’t care about any of this.” He blinks, then quietly admires your bravery.
Totally respects your unfiltered honesty. Bruce has had enough of the world’s games, so when you don’t bother to pretend or hold anything back, it’s like a breath of fresh air for him.
Secretly loves when you don’t play nice." He knows you're not afraid of saying what you think, and when you call him out on his brooding or overly protective behavior, he listens. “You’re right. I’m sorry for not trusting you more.” (He totally doesn’t have a tracker on your hair clip..🥰)
You both have moments of pure savage honesty that no one else gets. There’s no need for filters, and you’ll both exchange one-liners so dry that it leaves everyone else in the room confused.
Finds it endearing when you make his plans more interesting. “This is ridiculous. Why are we doing this again?” You snap at him in a room full of his board members, and he just gives you a look that says, “I’m never apologizing for you.”
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1K notes · View notes
hamsternella · 6 months ago
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PLEEEEASE a nsfw alphabet for Stanford??🥺
SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG
Stanford Pines NSFW Alphabet
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A= Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Despite the tiredness and embarrassment once the heat of the moment wears off, Ford goes to great lengths to wrap you in his arms and hold you tight against his chest, where you can hear his heartbeat. He likes to let you know how well you did, and how much he loves you. Caresses and kisses, as well as laughter and sweet whispers until falling asleep are never lacking.
B= Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Ford would always say his brain. He is a cool, methodical person who almost always finds a way to achieve great results. Thinking and ingenuity are like breathing to him. But of course in this case that's not the answer; considering that the last thing he can use is his brain when he has you in front of him. It is as if only his heart exists, beating wildly at the sight of the most beautiful and inexplicable thing he has been able to witness in his entire existence: you.
That being the case, he can't find any other part of himself that he likes enough. Maybe his hands, because he knows how much you love it when he touches you. And if it's you, it would be everything—Ford is unable to pick just one part of your body. If he had to, maybe it would be your waist; because he loves to grab you with both hands from that spot to keep you still, under or on top of him, and at whatever pace he can best get those sweet sounds out of you that fascinate him so much.
C= Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He cums a lot and hard. Preferably inside you or on your face; sometimes pushing a little with his fingers to fill your mouth with his cum. He loves it when you clean his hand with your tongue.
D= Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Ford would never tell you—there's a reason it's a secret. But do you still remember those times when you couldn't find your underwear, and suspiciously it was during the weekdays when Ford took care of the laundry, and oddly enough he took all the time in the world to iron and put the laundry away...? Yeah, well. I think you know what I mean. Don't mention to him how obvious it is that he's been stealing your underwear to masturbate with it. Don't tell him, really.
Also don't mention that you've actually felt him cling to you when you sleep; looking for more than just warmth at night. Don't tell him that you clearly feel him down there—hard and warm.
Or do. Who knows what might happen.
E= Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Technically no experience at all. Of course he had gotten to kiss other women, maybe a little touch with one or two, but that was many, many years ago; by now he hardly remembers anything at all. Besides he was very young; he used to think differently and be busier with his research. Now that the world is at peace and he can enjoy the calm and family life, it is more than obvious that the only thing he has to defend himself at the beginning of the relationship is all theoretical. It's not a terrible thing, of course. Ford is willing to experiment and learn with you.
F= Favorite position
There are still many positions to try and discover, but the most used —for comfort and practicality— are three par excellence.
Doggy, because nothing is nicer than being able to see you under him, with your ass and waist at his disposal to play to his heart's content.
Cowgirl/Cowboy, because even though he loves making love to you, Ford has to accept that at his age it's hard to stay steady all the time. Sometimes he needs a little help from you to avoid looking pathetic for getting tired after so much action—even if you tell him there's nothing pathetic about it. Besides, don't you look lovely on top of him, with your body shaking and your eyes glazed over? Best view of all.
Spooning, because Ford goes crazy holding you from behind, pushing his hips against your ass; with one of his hands working over your body and his lips on your neck, waking you up from a long night of deep sleep. This man is desperate to touch you.
G= Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Ford is quite serious during the moment, but this is because he is a very shy person about approaching you to begin with. Even if it comes to playing along with you he is the first and last to get embarrassed. An occasional nervous laugh; sometimes little choked sentences if he notices you looking at him too much, and that makes him lose his concentration. But in general he is someone very focused, who seeks not to lose the thread of the moment. His biggest fear is disappointing you.
H= Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
A lot of things happened and he hasn't had the time, nor the desire, to get down to work there. That being the case, I'd say hairy; but at least he's started to take the time to trim it down a bit and make it halfway nice for you. If it's something that would bother you, Ford is willing to trim it further—even all of it.
But yeah. Super hairy.
I= Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Ford takes care to be careful with everything he does or says, always seeking to satisfy the needs of your body and mind; every fantasy you have closely tied to everything he does to make you feel fulfilled. He is a dedicated man, with nimble hands and a sensitive heart. Sweet and witty words are never lacking, always driving you crazy in his arms and against his lips. Sensuality is never in short supply.
J= Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He's been starting to do it more often since he's been with you. Not a lot, because he prefers to do it with you; but once in a while never hurts if he can't get you out of his head. He needs at least something of yours to make him cum—your underwear or the warmth of your body. He needs you.
He cums fast and hard, with the piece of clothing against his face, inhaling intensely; or with a free hand on your body, against your skin.
K= Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Definitely role-playing and cockwarming.
L= Location (favorite places to do the do)
Private places, if possible. Ford doesn't want to risk the possibility of being seen by someone else. He loves to have you in the bedroom, or even in his study room. Any place where no one and nothing will interrupt you.
M= Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
To see you in his clothes, to hear your voice, to come on to him... to suddenly appear dressed for some sensual and perverse role-playing... My goodness, how you drive him crazy.
Ford is a simple guy: he sees his partner existing and making eyes at him, and suddenly he feels his body warm and ready to go.
N= No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Threesomes, because he can't accept the idea of seeing you with someone else, let alone seeing himself with someone other than you. Ford is also unwilling to degrade you or physically harm you; just as he does not find it attractive to allow the same to be done to him.
O= Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Ford loves to receive oral, but he prefers to give it. He loves to put his mouth down there, tasting you and pulling out sounds that haunt him in his best dreams. You are a delight. Even if he's inexperienced, he's so desperate to have you in his mouth that the guy learns in no time to meet your expectations. There's no way not to lose your mind when Ford is taking care of everything between your legs; with his hands holding you by the flesh of your thighs, with his fingers caressing your skin.
Imagine his face if you proposed sitting on it. Imagine that, I insist. It's the best.
P= Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Slow and sensual; deep and hard. Getting all the way in, Ford always gives a little push to press himself against you, hiding his face in the space of your neck. He will talk to you through this—be prepared for a couple of whimpers and muffled moans.
Q= Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He doesn't like them at all. He prefers to take his time with you. Although if you are very needy, then maybe he can find a way.
R= Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Ford loves to experiment! And with that always comes risk. But when it comes to sex, this all takes a different turn; and while he's willing to try new things and experiment with you, he'll always be against anything that might hurt you or make you both uncomfortable.
S= Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
The years and the various experiences out in the open have weathered Ford, and have made him a man with a lot of physical capacity to endure long hours without sleep and with a lot of work. Research work, of course; the physical stuff has always been for fighting or survival.
With this in mind, Ford is able to handle quite a bit of foreplay and sex itself, but he tires quickly after a second round—if the first one wasn't strong enough. Even if he feels he can't go on, he has no problem helping you by using his hands or mouth; as well as any other part of his body that comes in handy. Hopefully and maybe there will be another round if you manage to turn him on one more time.
T= Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Ford doesn't need toys. He only needs you. Now, if in a hypothetical case you would like to use one, he has no problem even designing his own to use with you. At first you tell him no, because it's easier to buy them; but after seeing some plans and listening to him talk so excitedly, seeing that he even starts to consider the idea of implementing other things when it comes to sex, you come to the conclusion that maybe it's not so bad.
Ford opts to use toys on you, not him. They don't get his attention that way.
U= Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Not so much, really. He thinks it's cute to see you being so desperate for him. But at the end of the day it's something that makes him desperate too. Ford couldn't stand to play with you like this for long; he needs to accede to your needs in order to satisfy his own.
V= Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Whimpers A LOT, and likes to moan loudly—but tries to drown them out, fearful that someone might hear them.
If the two of you are in a place where you can be sure not to be overheard, Ford sets out to talk to you during the act.
W= Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He's unexpected and always manages to sweep you off your feet, but Ford is capable of the hottest dirty talk you can imagine. When you least expect it you have him with his lips on your ear, his hot breath on your skin, and his husky, deep voice of desire spitting out dirty, kinky phrases that keep you with your hands pushing against his chest; his fingers pressing against the skin of your neck, surprising you with how much this man can separate himself from the real world and let you drown in his darkest fantasies.
Ford prefers not to talk about it after everything calms down. It will take some time.
X= X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Not as long, but definitely fat. The tip is quite sensitive. Slightly curved downward.
Y= Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Since he discovered how fascinating your touch is, quite high. Although it's more what he desires than what he can get to do. If he gets careless, he comes quickly. It's fun to play on his desperation and make him wait; that might help him endure his neediness with you a little longer.
Z= Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Pretty fast; but he strives to see that you're okay after all, and that you're resting with him. His priority is you, after all.
3K notes · View notes
greengoblinswifey · 22 days ago
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Transactional—Hwang In Ho/Front Man x Fem!Reader
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summary— The Front Man offers you freedom in exchange for something you hadn’t expected and your decision leads to something you had no idea would happen. Based on this request.
warnings— usual squid game shenanigans, power imbalance, slight coercion, degradation, face fucking, strip tease, cunnilingus, degradation, ass slapping, hair pulling, praise kink, unprotected sex, cock warming, creampie, pregnancy, mentions of abortion.
a/n— I see you guys’ requests, patience🫶🏽more soon.
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The Front Man slowly sipped his expensive whiskey, eyes focused on the monitors as he watched the Squid Games unfold.
Some would call him sick but he quite enjoyed watching the desperation and suffering of the players. It fueled him and he looked forward to new games everyday.
He chuckled at the stupidity of the players when majority opted for ‘one more game’ instead of just going home with the money they had accumulated. Their stupidity, his entertainment.
As he scanned them each walking up to push the X or O button, his eyes landed upon you. For a moment, his breath caught as he stared. You were ethereal, the most beautiful woman that had ever graced his eyes.
Now, he wasn’t even focused on Gi-hun anymore. His focus was on you. You infiltrated his mind and he needed to save you from the game before something terrible happened. Though, it wasn’t just his need to be your savior that fueled him. He was pent up—unable to remember the last time he stuck his dick in a pretty girl like you.
That night, he held an important meeting with the guards. An idea had came to his mind to spice things up a bit.
That night, he instructed the pink guards to kidnap you from your bed quietly, so as to not alert the other players, especially not Gi-hun who had become a friend to you.
“Bring her here tonight. I have a proposal for her,” he said to the guards, darkly.
That night, after much twisting and turning, you were finally able to fall asleep. Your slumber was cut short as you felt gloved hands clasp over your mouth. Your scream was muffled as two guards grabbed you but you quickly became silent feeling the cold barrel of a gun press against your temple.
“We’re not here to hurt you, just be quiet. Someone wants to see you,” one of them said.
Your heart beat faster in your chest as they led you out of the dormitory. Who wanted to see you?
They led you through the maze and through hallways you had never seen before, each step making fear course through your veins. You had no idea what to expect from whoever wanted to see you. Meanwhile, the Front Man watched through the monitors as the guards brought you to him, each step closer leaving him eager.
The large door to his personal quarters slid open and you were brought inside before the guards left without a word. Stood before you was a man in all black and when he turned around, your breath hitched.
He was tall, older and handsome. You cursed yourself internally for that being your first thought but you couldn’t help yourself. Anyone would think the same if they saw the man before them.
“Good night,” he greeted, his deep voice making you shiver. “Enjoying yourself?”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Is that a serious question? And who the hell are you—wait, you’re the organizer of these games?” you asked, recognition in your tone.
“We’re not here to speak about that sweetheart but yes, any other questions you’d like to ask?” he said, stepping closer to you.
“Why am I here?” It was the only thing you could think to ask as he towered over you.
“As you’ve realized, I’m the organizer of this game. My name is Hwang In-ho and I have a proposal for you,” he replied.
You tilted your head and quirked your eyebrow, a thousand questions swarming your head but none being able to translate to actual words.
“The X on your uniform suggests you’re keen on leaving the game but since majority voted to stay, I have a different method in which you can leave.” He stepped closer now, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“To leave the game, you’ll have to have sex with me.” The moment the words left his lips your eyes widened in shock.
“T-to leave the game, I’ll have to let you fuck me?” you repeated.
“If that’s how you want to word it, but yes,” he retorted, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s entirely your decision. You let me fuck you and you leave the game, you refuse and I send you back safe and sound.”
Safe and sound. You scoffed, he was sending you back there to die. Was it really your decision considering the situation you were in? You truly had no other choice. If you refused, you’d be sent back to continue the cycle of ‘one more game’ until you lost s game and died. You didn’t have much fight in you left, this was your only option and it seemed more plausible than going back to more than likely end up dying.
On the other hand, if you decided to take In-ho up on his offer, you would return home safe. You stared up at him, eyes flossing over his sharp yet soft features. He wasn’t hard to look at. In fact, you could picture him above you. You could picture him having those large hands all over you, his hand wrapped around your neck, his cock—
“You’re biting your lip,” In-ho said, snapping you out of your thoughts.
Your cheeks heated as you looked away from him, he could probably tell what your answer was by your reaction.
“You can take a long warm shower and later, inform me of your decision,” he added.
He gestured to the bathroom and you walked inside meekly, your eyes landing on some new clothes neatly folded on the counter. He seemed to have it all planned out, you admired a man that knew what he wanted and went after it, you had to give him that.
Stepping into the shower, you allowed the warm water to engulf you and wash away the weight you had been carrying the last few days. You scrubbed yourself thoroughly, remembering how blood would splatter on your skin after a player had been shot. Thinking about the incident made you shudder, you needed to escape. This was the opportunity you had been hand picked to be given and you decided that you had to take it.
After a long shower, you dressed yourself in the clothes In-ho had laid out for you. It was a cute dress that hugged your figure. Strategic—but you weren’t mad at it.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, In-ho’s eyes landed on you. His eyes roamed your figure, not even being subtle about it.
“I’ve made my decision,” you said.
“Already? Well then, what is it?”
You sighed, telling yourself it was just this once and you truly had no other choice.
“I’ll have sex with you in exchange for my freedom,” you whispered, eyes dropping to the floor.
“Oh, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re going to be my slut,” he murmured, “and say it louder. Use your voice as much as you can now, because by the time I’m finished with you, you won’t have a voice from how much I’ve made you moan.”
Your breath caught at his words but you couldn’t deny the way it made your core throb. “I’ll fuck you in exchange for my freedom.”
“Good girl. So obedient for me already. I’m going to have so much fun with you, a pretty girl shouldn’t be in this hell hole,” he cooed. “First, I want you to get on your knees and crawl to me.”
His request made your heart drop. It felt so degrading yet thrilling. Adrenaline and pure lust ran through you and your gaze locked on his as you went on your knees and crawled to him. You crawled slowly but seductively, watching as he adjusted himself in the couch.
When you finally reached his feet, his hands went to your cheek, caressing it. “That’s a good girl. Next, I want you to unbuckle my pants and pull my cock out.”
With shaky hands, you did as you were told unbuckling his pants and when you reached his boxers, you paused. The dent told you everything you needed to know—he was aroused. And by the looks of it, he wasn’t a small man. He lifted his hips, allowing you to pull his underwear down and you gasped as his cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen.
You’d never seen such a pretty cock and you cursed the thought for infiltrating your mind even though it was true. In-ho was long and hard, surely to hit all the right spots deep inside you. You wrapped your hand around the base and bit your lip feeling him throb.
“Suck my cock and show me just how bad you want to get out of here,” he whispered, his tone dark.
With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him stretch your jaw open. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move your head, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of pleasing him. “That’s it, just like that,” In-ho groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.
The gliding of your tongue across the thick shaft sent shivers through him. You could feel his balls twitch, and his thighs tensed beneath your hands. You moved to trailing your lips along the side of his cock, before meeting his dark eyes that stared down at you. His chest was rising and falling with every breath he took, and you could tell he was trying to hold back from losing control.
“You’re so good at this angel, fuck, so dirty.” You moaned around his cock, then took it out of your mouth to spit on it. Sticking your tongue out, you looked up at him as you slapped his cock against it and he held your hair in response, his head tipping back.
With his fingers in your curls, he dragging your mouth up and down his shaft before he started thrusting. You gagged but he didn’t stop, if anything, he sped up but only after giving you a minute to breathe. You could feel his cock twitch down your throat and you began massaging his balls, tears in your eyes as his thrusts increased.
“Swallow my cum like a good girl. Show me how bad you want to get out of here,” his deep voice said.
You took him to the back of your throat, and stroked what didn’t fit as you felt the salty taste of cum fill your mouth. Without hesitation, you swallowed, humming around his cock and sending jolts of pleasure through him.
Pulling you up by your hair, he kissed you, savoring the taste of his own release.
“You did well. I’m thoroughly impressed,” he chuckled.
He pulled you off your knees, his hands roaming your sides and caressing your curves before he squeezed your ass.
“Strip.” His voice left no room for disobedience and you did as you were told, slowly and seductively ridding yourself of the clothing he had generously gave to you.
His dark gaze drank in the sight before him and by the smirk on his face, he was utterly impressed. As he stood up, he held under your ass, hoisting you against him and walking with you to what you assumed to be the bedroom.
It was dimly lit and large but you had no time to admire it as he threw you on the bed. “Let’s see if you taste as delectable as you look.”
His lips pressed against your abdomen, trailing kisses until he reached your clit, spreading your legs and kissing further and further.
“You’re soaked, so wet for me,” he murmured, using his tongue to collect your wetness and spitting it back onto your pussy.
A soft moan escaped your lips, the feeling of his warm mouth on your pussy the best thing you'd ever felt these last few days.
“Your moans are so sweet angel."
He dived in, flicking his tongue on your clit before bringing it down to your leaking hole and licking back up. His grip was firm on your thighs, spreading them wide as he continued. You couldn’t believe the utter pleasure you were feeling, he was so skilled with his tongue having you squirm underneath him and moan so loudly, you feared the guards would hear.
His tongue was practically inside you, tonguing you and moving back up to suck on your clit. As his movements increased, the coil in your abdomen grew tighter, ready to burst.
“Cum on my tongue beautiful, be a good little slut.” A loud gasp left your lips and your body lifted from the bed as he practically took your soul and you squirted onto his face, soaking him. He slurped you up like a starving man and you squirmed under his touch, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“You’re so beautiful when you cum and you taste just as good as you look,” he panted.
Feeling bold, you pulled him up into a kiss, his mouth soaked in your juices. His head moved down to your full breasts, suckling and moaning as your fingers tangled in his silky hair.
"So eager sweetheart. Beg me to fuck you, let me hear how bad you want to leave this place," he teased.
"Please In-ho," you whined, "Please fuck me, I want your cock so fucking bad."
Swiftly, he sank into you, but halted, allowing your tight pussy to adjust to his size.
“Shit,” you moaned, as he took your breath away, “you’re so fucking big.”
“I know baby, but you better take it like a good girl if you want to leave,” he whispered, reaching down and rubbing your clit to ease the tension.
As you adjusted, he slammed into you, burying his cock to the hilt. Your moans filled the kitchen as he began moving at a pace that had your toes curling and your fingers gripping the sheets.
With how he was pounding into you, your pussy surely would remember the shape of his cock. You could feel him deep inside your cervix his cock twitching and your pussy throbbing. His large hand snaked around your neck as your foreheads touched, small trickles of sweat mingling. He worked his hips into you, your mouth in an ‘O’ as you breathlessly moaned with him slamming into you.
“You feel fucking amazing, best pussy I’ve ever had,” he panted.
You cried out in response and he pulled out his cock, slapping the heavy tip on your clit making you jolt. As soon as it made contact with your clit, you squirted, your juices spurting all over his cock. He slipped back in and as you tightened around him, you felt something warm and sticky fill you up.
"This pussy feels too good not to cum inside. Fuck, don’t move, I'm not finished with you yet."
He flipped you on your stomach and sank into you from behind, slapping your ass as he did.
“This ass,” he moaned, “you should see how good you look from this angle.”
His hips snapped against your ass, pounding you as your back arched deeper. You whimpered loudly and did your best to please him, slamming your ass back against him, his cock brushing that sweet spot deep inside you.
He gripped your curls, using it as an anchor to slam into you faster and harder.
“God, you’re clenching around me so tight, cum on my cock,” he moaned.
You buried your face into the bed, crying out as you shuddered and squirted around him, your arousal dripping down to his sheets. With one last powerful stroke, you felt something warm and sticky fill you up again.
He pulled out slowly, a deep moan escaping his lips before he collapsed on the bed beside you. He pulled you on top of him, plugging your pussy with his cock, not letting a drop of his cum go to waste.
“You did so well. You made a good decision,” he whispered in your ear.
For the rest of the night he held you close with his cock buried deep inside you. By morning, you were too sore and fucked out to even move.
You sat up in bed as you heard the door open, watching as In-ho approached you with breakfast. Softly, you thanked him and began eating, unable to make eye contact after the night you had with him.
“As promised, you can leave the game tonight. I’ll give you some cash and my contact so we can—keep in touch.” As he said those last words, his eyes fell to your bare chest.
Later that night, a deep sudden sleep took ahold of you without you being able to fight it. In your slumber, In-ho kissed your forehead, allowing the guards to take you off the island and back home with a wad of cash he generously gave you. He knew he’d eventually see you again but he hadn’t expected it to be for a completely different reason than what he had in mind.
Sunshine peaked through your window, shining on your face as you slowly opened your eyes. Looking around, you realized you were back home and in your own bed. In-ho actually kept his promise. Your eyes widened at the brief case of cash that lay on the bed beside you. For the first time in your life, fucking a man actually benefited you.
For the next couple weeks, you paid off whatever debts you had and made upgrades to your life. You earned that money and you’d spend it however you saw fit. Your happy streak didn’t last long though as each morning, you grew sicker and sicker.
It was terrible, you were barely able to eat as even the smell of food had you dashing to the bathroom and bending over the toilet, vomiting.
You weren’t sure what was wrong with you so, you decided to pay a quick visit to a doctor. Your doctor ran a variety of tests and informed you that you’d be given your results in a few days.
The days passed in a blur of overwhelming fatigue and nausea. If the games hadn’t killed you, this definitely would.
Finally, you received a call from your doctor about your results.
“Congratulations!” she beamed over the phone and your eyes furrowed in confusion. “You’re pregnant, just a few weeks along.”
The phone fell from your hands and you heard the muffled voice of your doctor asking if everything was alright. You were pregnant. Having only had sex with one person a few weeks ago, you knew exactly who the father was—Hwang In-ho.
You didn’t know what to do. A life was growing inside you, a life you weren’t sure if you wanted to keep or nurture. Absentmindedly, you dialed the number In-ho had given you. After just two rings, you heard his deep voice answer.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting on your call,” he said, a smirk evident in his tone.
“In-ho, I-I’m pregnant,” you spat out.
There was a silence on the other end before he spoke again. “You’re pregnant? Shit, I should’ve known.”
“Yeah, you should’ve,” you snapped. “You came inside me twice and had your dick in me all night. What did you think was going to happen? Now, I’m stuck with something I don’t know what to do with.”
He sighed and paced his quarters. “Listen to me. It was never my intention to have that happen, trust me. But whatever decision you make whether to keep the baby or not, I’ll support you. In fact, I’ll be at your apartment by tonight.”
His words provided a sense of strange comfort for you. Having him over would give you all the answers you needed. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to keep the baby or abort it. None of this was supposed to happen, you fucked him to escape the game, not to have him impregnate you.
“Okay In-ho. Thank you for being understanding, I’ll see you tonight.”
After hanging up, you sat on the new expensive couch you had bought using the money In-ho gave you. Your life had been a roller coaster the last three months, but somehow, In-ho’s words and actions was the calm in the face of the storm. In some twisted way, he was perfect. And you knew if you decided to keep the baby, he would be the perfect father.
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aayakashii · 6 months ago
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How would they react if you received a confession from some random student?
Warning: yandere behavior, possessiveness, A LOT of manipulation etc etc you know the drill
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Gasp! You received a confession! A human student fell for you and confessed that they have had a huge crush on you ever since they saw you in the admission ceremony. They even invited you on a date! You're so excited! But... wait... how will your ghouls react to that...?
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Fuji Kaito
Absolutely distraught.
He knew you first! He was supposed to be your first option!
He doesn't try to hide how desperately jealous he is.
Bombards you with self-deprecating messages that do more harm than good because it gets super annoying after a while.
Stops eating properly and pays even less attention to class, which makes him take even more remedial classes.
Asks you for your help immediately. He's so insistent on you tutoring him, that you end up saying yes just so he'll stop whining.
He happily creates a schedule that eats up most of your time, so you can only see him every single day. After all, he has such a hard time learning! You gotta help him a lot 🥺 and no, Luca isn't an option.
It's almost like he planned this... but nah, that's Kaito we're talking about. He wouldn't do this, right
Right?
Lucas Errant
He doesn't really understand what he's feeling at the moment
At first, he has a positive reaction – after all, you're an amazing person! It's only obvious you'd have admirers.
But then he finds himself thinking more and more about it.
Is that person capable of protecting you? Do they possess any type of skill in combat so they can fend off anomalies? Will they pay attention to your needs? Will they hold your hand when they walk you home? Will they actually walk you home when it's late??????
He starts worrying more and more about your safety until he can't brush off his concerns any longer.
He will not approve of this relationship. He's pretty sure that person isn't capable of providing you with all you need and deserve.
At least not like he can. He knows he can protect you. So... stay with him instead, will you?
Ishibashi Tohma
Hm... Really. So you have a little admirer. How cute.
Tohma couldn't be more obvious with the disdain and contempt towards the person who confessed to you.
He always manages to spot you wherever you are, just to steal you away and drag you with him to do something 'important'.
"Why yes, you must come with me to pick up this order of tea leaves I have put on. Of course I can't do this alone, you have to learn the ropes of my work since you're my dear helper."
You better not be thinking about going on dates. Tohma will ruin all your plans by summoning you to his side as soon as you step out of your dorm.
He will control your time and your schedule until you forget entirely about that silly little person who tried to take you away from him.
And when you hear the first whispers of awful rumors about that person, Tohma already has his hands on you, permanently dragging you away from them and their terrible influence.
As if he wasn't the one that spurred the gossip in Frostheim from the very beginning.
Kamurai Jin
No. Just no.
Don't even think about it.
You just aren't allowed any distractions from your work for him. You're his servant.
Actually, sratch that. You're his, period.
The fact that someone would be so bold to try and take you away from him is unbelievable.
And you're CONSIDERING their confession? Are you insane? What do they have to offer you? How can you even begin to think of them as more important than him?
You're crazy if you think he'll just let you go and date some peasant.
Jin WILL bribe the person who confessed to you to make them go away in a heartbeat.
He's convinced that everyone will fold when they're faced with money. Everyone but himself, because he already has it all.
All except you, apparently.
Jin will offer them a life changing amount of money just to keep them away from you.
Don't worry, he'll be right there to see your little heartbroken face when you're walk back to him after all that.
He'll take his sweet time picking up your pieces and putting you back together.
Mido Alan
Alan stuffs his hands inside his pockets and scowls as soon as you let him know about someone confessing to you.
Oh, he despises that idea.
At first, he wonders whether it is because he might see you as a little sibling or... some other platonic thing... that activates his protective instinct.
But then he sees you crack a little smile as you talk about actually going on dates, and the jealousy he feels is simply undeniable.
Alan may be stoic, but he's very well acquainted with his ugliest feelings.
And this jealousy is simply the most hideous thing.
Do you know that person? Do you think they truly care about you? No. They don't. At least not like him.
Alan doesn't say all that openly, but he hangs around you for longer and longer, like a guard dog. Arms crossed and scowling, ready to pounce at anyone crazy enough to invade his space.
And obviously, you're in his space. You're the only one allowed in it. The only one he wants attached at his hip.
He eventually wins by wearing down his competition. After all, no one is brave enough to poke this lion with a short stick.
You're just not worth them risking their lives like that...
Don't worry, Alan is right by your side to pet your little head and comfort you.
He'll always be by your side.
Haizono Sho
Well, look at you. Being popular and shit. Gotta be feeling good, huh?
Kinda upsetting that the one who likes you is a loser that definitely doesn't deserve you.
Who said that.
Sho immediately bans you from eating at his food truck.
If you're gonna play these dumb games, then he has his own cards to play, too.
Even if you have zero intention of making him jealous and genuinely just want to go on a cute date, he WILL see it as a challenge.
He would rather get hit by a car than see you taking some random ass dude to HIS food truck to eat HIS food during a date. You're supposed to eat his food only if you go on dates with HIM.
He's gonna make you choose between him and your stupid new guy as soon as you tell him about the confession.
Are you going to abandon him? Are you really going to choose some dude instead of a friend? Someone who needs your support and ideas? Someone who ACTUALLY cares about you and didn't just randomly appear out of nowhere?
There is a correct answer for his ultimatum, and you better choose wisely.
Kurosagi Leo
???????????
Some people do have awful taste, huh.
Cannot fathom why someone would ever fall for you.
You're plain and boring, just a stupid NPC. That person must be just as boring as you, if not worse.
He makes sure to tell you all of this so you know your place.
But then you decide to give that person a chance and begin to ignore his messages.
How fucking dare you answer him only in the end of the day. You're supposed to be at his beck and call. You're supposed to be by his side whenever he needs you, like a good NPC.
He gets antsy. He's bouncing his legs, biting his nails and feeling his stomach flip flop inside him.
Okay he GETS it. You can stop trying to make him jealous now, god. You're so fucking desperate for his attention, aren't you?
Just... answer his fucking texts for once, okay?
Otherwise, he's gonna have to handle that rando that's been glued to your side on his own terms, and you don't want that.
Don't make him do something both of you will regret <3
Sagara Haru
Of course someone would fall for you! Who wouldn't?
You're so sweet, strong, patient, helpful, comforting, and you always do your best to spend time with him so he feels less overworked and...
Oh.
If you have a s/o, this means you won't be able to help him and spend time by his side, huh...
...
That is a problem.
Haru needs your company. He needs to know your whereabouts and what you're doing. You won't leave him hanging behind on his own, right?
He knows that you care for the animals and you wouldn't abandon them, but what about him?
Will you really leave him behind?
Haru is busy with everything in Jabberwock, so it's not like he can neglect his job to follow you around, but... Maybe he can keep an eye on you through his little gps.
Whenever he sees you out and about, he'll shoot you the cutest, most heartwrenching message about how he the animals miss you.
It never fails.
After all, you're so sweet. He knows exactly how to tug on your heartstrings until you run back to him.
Otonashi Towa
No.
You're not going to date anyone.
Towa loves romance, yes, but only if it doesn't involve you with someone else.
You're his Dandelion! You're his. You're not going to leave him, ever. Why are you even thinking about someone else? You're so silly, Dandelion.
Towa doesn't try to be subtle. He will threaten the other person and kick them out of your life immediately.
If he needs to strike them down with a dozen lightnings, he will do it. Do not doubt him whatsoever.
Don't be sad, though. If you wanted to go on dates, you should have just said so!
He will take you to every pretty place he finds in Darkwick – cave systems, flower fields, dense woods, and anywhere else you feel like going!
As long as you go with him.
He's not letting anyone steal you from him, ever.
Shiranami Ren
Whines and whines and whines and whines.
He becomes actually insufferable.
"You're actually going to become one of those disgusting people that flaunt their relationship everywhere, aren't you?"
"Ren, I don't even know if I'll accept the date..."
You don't get it, though. He thought you were different. He thought you weren't like everyone else! But you got A CONFESSION?
EUGH
That's like the most normie thing in the whole world...
And who's gonna watch B-horror movies with him now? Who's gonna play his mobile games and do his dailies with him?
You're gonna be just like those assholes that forget their friends when they start dating, aren't you?
He knew you were just too good to be true. That's on him, though. He was stupid to believe you would stick around.
Wait, no, please don't go. Please don't get mad at him.
He just doesn't want you to spend your time with someone else... but also, he would rather die than straight up tell you that.
Maybe read between the lines of all his whiny ass messages and forget about that other guy, how about it? It's almost time for a raid anyway.
Hoshibami Taiga
Oh honey. I don't know why you think you can even leave Taiga's side for long enough to receive a whole confession.
Although, if someone is crazy enough to mess with TAIGA'S little kitten, they are very brave.
Taiga may let them shoot their shot just to amuse himself and see how the dumbass would try to woo you.
But if they got even a little bit closer, his gun would fire immediately.
It would either end in someone getting terribly traumatized and/or wounded, or in death.
Getting away is just not an option if you're Taiga's.
You're always in his reach. No reason to think about silly little scenarios like "receiving a confession".
Pffft. Don't be stupid.
Romeo Lucci
Are you fucking insane? Shut up and go fetch him a face mask.
Of course he's not letting you date anyone. You're his assistant. You dont have time for shit like that.
What do you mean you don't need permission? Oh that's RICH.
Romeo isn't very patient about this whole situation.
If you try to argue too much, he just pushes you into his secret room and then inside one of his cages until you understand your place.
He's never letting you just walk away and spend your precious time with some broke asshole. Your time is HIS. YOU are his. Don't get any funny ideas.
It doesn't matter if you get mad at him. He will keep you locked up until you're sweet and compliant again. Just the way you're supposed to be.
And if that doesn't work quickly enough, he can always order his men around and beat whoever tries to get too close to you.
No one fucking steals from Romeo. Much less what is the most valuable to him.
Shinjo Ritsu
?
Ritsu is incredibly confused once you bring up going on dates with someone who confessed to you.
Did you forget you are legally bound to him by the terms of your partnership?
You have no time to go on dates. During working hours you have to be fulfilling your part of the contract right beside him.
It's not his fault that there's so much work to do that you end up needing to work overtime...
Yes, he IS very against unpaid overtime, obviously.
But it's not like you're not getting anything from this! You'll have the best lawyer in Japan always ready to help you.
But you'll only have this rare privilege if you stop being foolish and forget about dating that silly student.
You have to focus. Focus on your partnership.
Focus on him.
Focus on Ritsu alone.
Kusanagi Haku
Oh, so you hesitate to accept his invitations, but you're quick to go on a date with some other random person?
Ouch. Yikes.
Immediately lets you know that the person a very nasty spirit posessing them.
But you'd be a bit silly if you believed what he says because Haku is going to blatantly lie.
If that's what it takes to keep you far from anyone trying to get their hands on you, you BET Haku will try to manipulate you.
"Exorcising them? Nah, can't do it. Too strong of a spirit, you know? Better just keep your distance ;)"
He's honestly shameless. Doesn't stop following you around for a second and always manages to barge into every conversation you have with a general student, even if it's not even the person who confessed to you.
Can't be too careful, you know? After all, you're so sweet, what if more people fall for you?
He hates competition, so it's best to just cull everyone that gets too close to you. Makes things a lot easier for him.
And you know, since you're so eager to go out on a date with someone, why don't you choose him for once?
It's not like he'll ever let you have another option besides himself after all.
Kagami Subaru
Oh, he's guilt tripping you right away. All those years of acting are SHOWING.
Have you watched a kabuki play? There are some SAD ones, you know.
And you best believe Subaru is going to look like you've just ripped his heart apart as soon as you tell him about the confession.
You're the only actual friend he has besides Lyca... Do you really want to leave him in the dust like that? All for some dates? He really thought he mattered more to you than that...
It doesn't matter how much you try to reassure him you won't abandon him, he'll only stop being gloomy once you tell him word for word that you are not going to date anyone else.
And as soon as you do that, it'll be like clouds letting the sun shine again. He'll smile and cling to you like a magnet, gently feeding you the softest daifuku.
All while subtly touching you and checking your memories for the face of whoever dared to confess to you.
His good relationship with Darkwick will definitely come in handy to keep them far away from you.
Kotodama Zenji
He is having such a hard time with this!
He is more than happy to know you're appreciated! You are such a wonderful person! His lovely little human!
However... he can't help but feel awful about it all too. What if you stop talking to him?
After all, besides you, only Haku and Subaru see him. He knows you wouldn't be able to talk to him if you had someone unrelated right next to you. Much less someone who isn't even a ghoul!
His late night visits become more frequent. He stands at the foot of your bed, looking at your sleeping figure, very conflicted.
Is he allowed to be a little selfish, even though he's a spirit?
Soon enough, you stop hearing from the person who confessed to you. It's not that big of a deal, but you ARE curious as to why they up and vanished.
You'll never know how they suddenly got prophetic nightmares about how they shouldn't date you, complete with some bloodied messages on their wall...
Mizuki Rui
He's absolutely distraught. Not only he cannot touch you, now he must be tortured by the sight of you touching someone else?
Even worse: someone else touching YOU?
His days just keep on getting worse.
Will you still please visit him at his bar then? You won't completely starve him of your company, right?
Maybe he should just touch this crush of yours.
Haha, just kidding! He wouldn't do that.
He will, however, hide in the darkness for as much as he needs until he's sure that he approves of that date of yours.
Spoiler: he will never approve of anyone that isn't him.
Rui will bombard you with messages until you understand that his jealousy will never subside unless you reject that person once and for all.
And maybe, for some peace, you should. Because Rui is nothing if not insistent.
From the corner of your eyes, you see the way he lurks in the shadows of every place you visit.
Give yourself a break and mend the shinigami's heart for once, please?
Edward Hart
Oh dear. Who's going to take care of him now 😔
You're heartless, you know. Wasting your finite human time with a pointless date, instead of helping an old man when he needs you... You wound him so...
Ed is the king of emotional blackmail. He will moan and groan on and on about how weak and alone he is (even though Rui does everything for him) and how cruel you are for not spending your days in his room, tending to all his whims.
It doesn't matter if Rui can help him with this malware-riddled website. He wants YOU to help him. His plain but pretty little thing.
Didn't you learn you must respect your elders, love?
Then go lay down on his bed with him, thread your fingers through his hair, and shush him when he's tired and in pain. You're his walking balm, dear.
Don't leave him hanging. That would be so rude of you.
Lyca Colt
No no no no no no no no
NO!!!!!!!!!
You're not gonna date anyone!! You're not going to hang out with anyone else, ever!!!
Lyca is another one that's not subtle.
He'll just cling to you 24/7 and growl at the person who confessed to you until they run away.
He'll NEVER let you spend a single minute longer with some boring human. You have to spend time with him and teach him more about... well, about everything! You're his caretaker, aren't you?
The fact that he used to protest every time someone called you his babysitter does not matter anymore!
He is going to stay by your side and chase everyone away. How dare they try to do those disgusting things with HIS human!
It's overwhelming how clingy and possessive he gets – even more than before.
Lyca won't let you breathe peacefully. He'll be clinging to your arm, your hand, your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can grab just to show everyone that you belong WITH HIM ALONE.
It's best if you just accept it. They do say it's hard to teach older dogs how to behave, don't they...
Isami Yuri
He didn't expect much from you, but to waste your time with meaningless endeavors... Disappointing!
You better never sleep then! Because he's not letting you off the hook! You're still spending more than half of your day in Mortkranken, under HIS watchful eye!
And if he sees you texting some random guy, well. He'll just have to snatch your phone away from you.
How dare you think of anything else besides your apprenticeship under him?! Him, Isami Yuri, the best doctor in Darkwick. You're so ungrateful!
Yuri will wring you dry. He's so merciless, it'll be honestly best if you just focus on him...
He wants your full attention and focus. If you go on... *retches* dates... your mind won't be into your work.
Stop this insanity, worm, and pay attention to him. Pay attention and praise him. Don't go praising some random, worthless person. They don't deserve it.
But Yuri does. Yuri deserves your praise.
Praise him.
Please.
And forget all about anyone else.
Kirisaki Jiro
Hm... will going on dates affect your health positively? Your mental health, maybe? Huh.
Jiro doesn't really understand what he feels about you spending time with someone else.
What he does know is that he likes having you around, as much as he can process how "liking something" feels.
He likes how you take care of him after he showers and how you worry about him, no matter how many times he tells you it's pointless. He likes your reactions and how you try to be helpful. He likes you.
If you spending time with someone else means he won't have you doing all this anymore, or at least not as much as he'd like, he can't say he approves it.
Jiro straight up tells you he doesn't want you to go on dates and why.
It'd be wise to listen to him. Otherwise, he'll try to get his fix of you by following you around.
Not sure you'd want the tallest and strongest man in Darkwick following you around like a shadow... but you do you.
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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago
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Is That A Promise? (Venom One-Shot)
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Eddie Brock x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged
Summary: Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.
CW: mentions of monster fucking, Eddie is oblivious and a dumbass (I think I have a type)
Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
You’d known Eddie Brock a good while by this point. You’d started dating him a while back, and while he put others on edge, you’d found the way he talked to himself out loud rather charming, actually. 
At first, you weren’t sure if he was just unmedicated, or undiagnosed. But then the news broke about the symbiote, and then there was the footage. And when Eddie started coming home right after news broke of some other attack or taking out of a bad guy or criminal or whoever, you’d put two and two together. 
It was kind of hard not to. Particularly as his conversations with himself could vary from topic to topic in the span of six words or less.
 
Eddie had asked to meet up for lunch today at your favourite restaurant. He’d seemed a bit off on the phone, and given how prone you were to anxiety, your immediate thought had been that he was breaking up with you and that you’d done something to upset him or his bodily guest- who you did not officially know about, of course. 
You’d gotten there early to prepare yourself for whatever shitshow was about to follow and to your immense surprise, Eddie had shown up pretty much right after you. Eddie was always running late, so this change in pace was also mildly concerning. You were not sure how this was going to go and you did not like that one bit. 
“You’re here early, too,” Eddie had said, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact. You nodded, and cleared your throat, gesturing for him to sit down at the table opposite you. 
“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we had a spot,” you replied, smoothing down your shirt. Bit of a nervous habit. That and ripping at your nails, but that was beside the point. 
“Right,” Eddie replied. 
And then the two of you lapsed into silence. You spent a good five to ten minutes appearing to read over the menu as if this wasn’t a regular spot for you and you didn’t know exactly what you were going to order. In fact, you’d be surprised if the cooks weren’t already making it up for you even though a waiter hadn’t come over yet. 
“Shut up,” Eddie hissed quietly. You peered over the menu to eye him curiously, one brow arced in question. 
“I didn’t say anything, Eddie.” 
“Yeah, I know. I- uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed, and put the menu down to give him your attention. 
“About me shutting up?” 
“No- God, this is not going at all like I planned.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 
You said nothing, waiting patiently for him to work out his wording.
 
“I really like you,” he started, and you nodded, replying with the same sentiment. “And, well, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”
 
“Right…” This is where you expected him to tell you he was married (doubtful but not impossible) or had cancer or something terrible. Dear God, please no. 
“Look- you’ve seen on the news, yes, the, uh- the attacks. Yeah?” 
You nod. Ah, so he was finally telling you about his friend living literally rent-free in his body. Okay, you could relax a little. 
“He’s me. Venom, he lives in my body. He’s in my head. Like, all the time. Right now.” 
Eddie looked at the table where he was picking at the tablecloth. You were silent for a second, and Eddie clearly took that to mean you were horrified or disgusted or something. You were a little nervous about it, sure, but you’d also been living with him for the last few months. If Venom was planning to take you out, he would have done so by now, surely. You figured this to mean you were safe enough. You’d also seen your fair share of monster porn, so you weren’t exactly unkeen on the idea of dating someone who sometimes had a monster body. It was kind of hot, actually. You shook the thought out of your head and tried to focus.
“Oh, yeah- I knew about that,” you replied, and the way Eddie’s head snapped towards you was almost comical. 
“You what?”
 
“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”
 
Eddie blinked, and a black residue appeared on the back of his hand. It swirled and gathered on his hand before reaching for you delicately. You met it, brushing your finger over it softly. The goop (for lack of a better word) seemed to shiver pleasurably and you smiled.
 
“Can I meet him later?” 
Eddie nodded, watching the interaction with disbelief. He’d thought that you’d go running and screaming through the doors or something, not be rubbing your fingers over Venom like you were fingering some Play-Doh. 
“Y-yeah, later,” he agreed. “Not here. When we get home.”
 
You grinned and the black substance retreated back into Eddie’s skin as a waiter appeared by your table. 
“What can I get for you? The regular?” 
You looked at Eddie and clicked your tongue thoughtfully. 
“The usual with a serving of chicken nuggets on the side, please.”
 
The waiter nodded, scribbled it own on his pad and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie looked at you in question. He knew you weren’t big on nuggets. 
“They’re for Venom,” you explained, propping your head up on your palm. Eddie looked to the side as if listening to something carefully. 
“Venom says thank you-” Eddie said before cutting himself as Venom said something else in his head. “No, I’m not saying that. No. No.” 
“Say what?”
Eddie sighed defeatedly- something you think he did a lot when it came to Venom. 
“Venom said he could kiss you right now.” Eddie looked mortified as the words left his mouth. You burst into laughter. 
“Is that a threat or a promise? I hope it’s a promise,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at the two of them. 
Eddie swallowed thickly and blushed as Venom said something else. You’d have to see if Venom could swap hosts sometime. It would be nice to have a conversation while out and about like that. 
“Promise,” Eddie replied. 
Good.
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angelltheninth · 2 months ago
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Caitlyn's Strike Team Hiding Your Relationship at Work
Pairing: Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Maddie Nolen, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, secret relationship, kissing, getting caught, sneaking around, marks, flirting, co-workers
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters
A/N: Yes, I am including the fact that canonically two of these people (looking at you Caitlyn and Maddie) are absolutely abysmal at this.
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VI
Been known to be pretty sneaky when she needs to be, now if only she was better at holding back. Unfortunately, or not if you ask her, she can't help but tug you along when she's going pretty much anywhere and returning with both of you looking a little more disheveled than when you left. To say nothing of the way she proudly wears the marks and lip stick stains you leave on her neck and the collar of her shirt. She might as well shout it for everyone to hear that you're dating, that you're her woman.
CAITLYN
Good at so many things, has so many talents, but keeping your relationship a secret is not one of them. Not from the lack of trying, she tries really hard, she wants to be professional. Yet sometimes she forgets that she's not supposed to call you by that affectionate nickname or invite you into her office. She also forgot to lock her office door and you've been caught in the middle of a make out session, her legs around your hips, lipstick smudged, shirts untucked, too many times by now.
MADDIE
Keeping secrets is her job and yet she is terrible at keeping this a secret from her co-workers. Actually she blames you for this because you're too charming, too cute for her to keep her affections to herself. She can't help but smile and sigh dreamily when you invite her out for a lunch break, or when you compliment her, tell her she's doing good and tap her cheek affectionately. Indeed it's all your fault that she admits she loves you in front of everyone. Not that it was some big secret, everyone knew, she was like a lovesick puppy around you.
LORIS
Would have been great at it if he wasn't completely awestruck by you and wanted nothing more than to shower you with affection. Since he'd been there a long time romance wasn't exactly on the list of his priorities so when it happened the feelings hit him hard all at once. And he wasn't afraid to start showing it more and more the longer you dated. It started subtly enough, buying you lunch, advice from someone more experianced, flowers at your desk, protectiveness, then came the reveal, the handholding and the kisses.
STEB
Actually not that bad at keeping things on the downlow for quite some time. He is the mysterious, silent type anyways, everyone knew he had his secrets, you were just another one of them and one that he cherished the most. Very subtly he would nod his head towards the door when he wanted to leave or pass you notes, letters telling you that he wants to go home early and he would love it if you accompanied him. The only reason you were caught is because you fell asleep while holding hands on a night patrol.
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nariism · 1 year ago
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ೃ⁀➷ THIEF! ★
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Based off this ask by @raphuna-nekomada !!
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The first time, Neuvillette brushed it off as if nothing had happened.
He spent the entire morning looking for his dedicated Monday bow, black with silver intricacies that you personally picked out for him many years ago.
"Must be a sign from the universe not to go into work," you hummed from the bed, rolling over and inviting him back under the blanket. He hadn't indulged you on Monday, instead opting to use his Tuesday ribbon and huffing about how he would find the missing article later.
The second time it happened, he was suspicious.
Two days in a row his ribbon had gone missing, now his Wednesday ribbon had been used for Tuesday. It irked him, and while he had no other reason to suspect that you were the culprit, the way you beckoned him back to bed again flicked a switch in his mind.
Ultimately, he hadn't indulged you on Tuesday either.
The third time it happens, he saunters up to your side of the bed immediately.
"My love," he calls, and for a moment you think he hasn't caught you because he's lacking any sort of stern tone— the kind he would address Wriothesley with.
"Yes?" You peer up at him with a glimmer of mischief, clutching something to your chest. His eyes narrow and he kneels onto the bed beside you.
"Have you seen my ribbon?"
"I haven't."
"Are you sure? I'm certain I left it on the dresser last night."
"You must be imagining things, dearest."
You give him a sly, lazy smile and that's when he knows you're nothing but a terrible liar. He nearly scoffs in your face, leaning down closer so he can look at you with a hardening expression.
"And what exactly is your ploy here? Would you like me to wrestle it out of your hands?"
Your eyes widen in surprise for a moment before you laugh, clearly finding his suggestion humorous. "Would it keep you at home longer if you did?"
The gears turn in his head at your words, slow realization washing over him as you blink up innocently. (Feigning innocence, actually. Poorly.)
Ah, so that's what this is all about.
"You want me to stay home?"
A beat of silence. "And if I said yes?"
"You know my answer." Yet he hasn't pulled away, gotten off the bed, and left for work like he does every morning. In fact, you're pretty sure he's drawn a couple inches closer to you.
The fabric you stole from him suddenly wraps around the back of the neck and you rein him in until he's hovering just above you, arms and legs caging you in on either side.
"Got you," you sing quietly.
His gaze flickers down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "You got me," he repeats in faux defeat, swooping down to capture you in a kiss.
He starts to think that maybe a day off wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but he has more than one trial today and there is no one to fill his role in his absence.
Still, Neuvillette decides that he can come to a compromise if only to hold you like this before his busy day. Besides, if he didn't indulge you now this would never end.
"Ten more minutes."
"Ouch. Stingy."
He smothers you under his body so you'll stop talking.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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supernovafics · 26 days ago
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𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k words
warnings: explicit language, a bit of angst (bc of some family drama), lots of fluff, smut (18+), unprotected piv sex, tiny hint of praise kink
summary: in which a family wedding makes you think about the future
author's note: i love when i randomly get hit with inspiration for this universe<33
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Summer 1986
You had been trying to stay on your parents’ good side. They hadn’t been pestering you a lot about your future— specifically college and transferring to the University of Chicago, where they had wanted you to go since you were a kid— and you wanted to keep it that way. And if that meant going to a family wedding in Illinois, then so be it. 
The only bearable part about it was that Steve was coming too, and it had taken absolutely no bribing to get him to say yes. 
“Is this my girlfriend privilege coming into play?” You asked him as you two sat on the couch in your apartment’s living room. “Because I swear if we were still just friends you would at least force me to do all of the driving or something.”
Steve gave you an amused smile. “Do you want me to make you do all of the driving?”
“Nope, not at all,” You shook your head. “So, actually, I’m gonna stop talking now.” 
Steve laughed a little and you focused your attention back on the random sitcom playing on the TV, a small smile on your face. 
“Do you think Dustin will wanna babysit Harold again?” Steve asked as he mindlessly reached out to grab your hand that was buried under the blanket draped over your laps and intertwined it with his. 
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” You answered with a nod, taking a look over at the brown and white hamster’s cage that was sitting on the low shelf you two had next to the TV. “Honestly, I think he’s starting to like Harold more than us.” 
“I’m pretty sure that happened right when we got him.”
“Shit, you’re right,” You said as you shifted a bit and wrapped Steve’s arm around you so that you were nuzzled more comfortably in his side and then intertwined your hands once again. “I actually feel kinda offended about that. Just so you know, I love you and Harold equally.”
“Equally?” Steve said, sounding playfully shocked. “I’ve known you for basically ten years.”
“Yeah, but Harold’s our son, so…” You shrugged, trying to contain your growing smile. 
“Okay, I guess I’ll share the number one spot, then,” He responded as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.  
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The four-hour drive to the town just out of Chicago where the majority of your family lived wasn’t terrible. You and Steve evenly split the driving time and spent most of it playing silly games; mainly the license plate game because it was a car ride staple, and also a game where you two had to try and think of the same word and say it at the same time, and you two were eerily good at it. 
By the time you made it to the hotel that all of the out-of-town family members were staying at because of how close it was to the wedding venue, it was the middle of the night. Even though Steve didn’t have to work today— he took off the entire weekend, actually— you two still decided to leave later in the day because you wanted to avoid as much unnecessary time with your parents as possible.
Unsurprisingly, you and Steve were the only people checking in at ten o’clock at night. 
“So, it looks like there are two rooms in the reservation,” The lady at the front desk told you; her name tag said Joan. “One under your name, and one under Steve Harrington.”
“Oh,” You said and then nodded after a second. “Um, okay.”
Joan seemed to take note of your slightly confused tone. “Did you not book two rooms?”
“My parents handled all of this, so I guess they did the two rooms.”
She nodded at your words. “I’m gonna go grab the room keys and I’ll be right back.”
She headed off to what you assumed was the back room and you turned to look at Steve who was standing right next to you. 
He let out a quiet laugh as his arm slipped around your waist. “Did your parents forget that we live together and that we've been dating for the last five months?”
“They probably think we still sleep in our own bedrooms,” You said, leaning into his touch and realizing just how tired you were. 
You truly couldn’t remember the last time you slept alone in the past few months since you and Steve got together, and even before that, you both had spent a lot of time in each other’s beds. It probably would’ve made sense for you two to downsize to a one-bedroom place, but you both loved the apartment so much that you couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. 
“Should I pretend that I’m actually staying in the other room?” Steve asked and you quickly nodded. 
“Yeah, just in case.”
“Bad idea that we decided to share a suitcase then, huh?”
When you came up with it, it seemed like the perfect idea for the quick weekend trip. Why bring two separate suitcases that would probably be half empty, instead of just sharing one? 
You sighed now as you took a look at the black suitcase that Steve was holding the handle of. “Very bad idea.”
Joan returned a moment later. “So, good news, the rooms are right next to each other, and they’re actually connecting, so you two won’t have to be too far from each other.”
“That’s great,” You said, grabbing one of the keys from her outstretched hand, and Steve grabbed the other. “Thank you so much.”
She smiled at you both. “I hope you two enjoy your stay.”
You and Steve said another quick “Thanks” before heading toward the elevators. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Your room is so much nicer than mine,” You said as you slumped back onto Steve’s bed, head quickly finding the pillow that was actually so soft. 
“Do you wanna switch?” He asked from where he stood by the suitcase, pulling on a fresh t-shirt for the night.
The door that connected your rooms was wide open and it would probably stay that way for the entire night. 
“No, it’s fine, I’ll deal with my shitty shower pressure and lumpy bed.”
“You can stay in here with me tonight, y’know,” He told you, moving closer and maneuvering so that he was settled on top of you. It was a comfortable position, even though it probably shouldn’t have been. The way your bodies molded so easily for each other always felt like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. 
You smiled under his gaze. “Thank you for the formal invitation.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Of course, no problem. I wanna be a gentleman.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his words that were said very seriously, but you knew they were anything but. 
You could’ve easily fallen asleep just like that if you wanted to, with his warm body pressed so comfortably against yours, pretty much equivalent to a weighted blanket. And it would’ve made sense to fall asleep after the long drive you two had to endure, but you really didn’t want to.  
His head dipped down and yours tilted upward, allowing you two to meet halfway in the softest kiss. 
There was something about kissing Steve that always felt so nostalgic, and also the complete opposite. Even five months into everything, there was still a newness to being with Steve in this way that you’d probably never get fully used to. Every time felt like the first one, but there was also so much comfort that had been there from the beginning and it only continued to grow.  
After a moment that you considered way too short, he pulled away from your lips and his mouth started immediately trailing along the underside of your jaw and then down to your neck.  
You let out the softest hum as you shifted underneath him, searching for any sort of extra friction. Steve’s low groan was the first thing you heard when you brushed against his hardness and you wished that you could pull off the few layers that separated the two of you in one quick movement. 
“You still tired?” He mumbled against your neck.  
“Yes, but I also really want you right now,” You whispered back as you threaded your fingers through his hair, which was slightly damp from the shower he just took. The only pro about not sharing a room was that you both got your own bathroom, even if the water pressure in yours sucked.  
“Yeah?” He asked as he pulled back a bit to look at you. His voice was teasing, playful, but you also knew how much he loved the reassurance too. 
“Yeah,” You nodded immediately. “Please.”
There was the sweetest smile on his face as his fingers found the bottom of your t-shirt and proceeded to pull the fabric up and off of you. 
You had opted against putting on a bra after your shower, so your chest was left bare for him once your t-shirt was off and he was groaning at the sight. 
“You’re so fucking pretty,” He whispered as the pad of his thumb brushed against your already hard nipple.
For the briefest moment, your eyes slipped shut and you bit your lip to hold back your moan, and then you were meeting his gaze again. 
“You’re really pretty too, Stevie,” You said, smiling up at him as you reached up to softly poke his cheek. 
He laughed a little and turned his head a little so that he was kissing your poking finger. “Thank you. You’re so nice.” 
Your shoulders upturned in the most nonchalant shrug, but the same smile was on your face; you were always the one to bring a bit of silliness into moments like these. “I try.”
Steve was smiling back at you as he gave your nipple a quick squeeze and then his hands moved down your sides and settled at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. He pulled your shorts and underwear off in one motion and tossed them to the floor somewhere along with your shirt. 
He kissed from your collarbone down to your belly button, stopping and teasing different spots along the way which made you squirm beneath him and you could feel yourself dripping onto the blanket below you with every teasing press of his mouth. He moved lower and lower, and then deliberately skipped past where you needed him to be. Instead, he started kissing your inner thighs.
Your fingers carded through his hair as you looked down at him. “You’re being very evil right now.”
“I’m sorry,” He told you, but you knew that he really wasn’t. He spread your legs further and pressed the most featherlight kiss against your clit before looking up at you again. “What do you want?”
There were a lot of things you could’ve said in answer— in that moment, you were craving his fingers and his mouth too— but after the exhaustingly long drive, you simply just wanted to be as close to him as possible as quickly as possible. 
“Honestly, I really need you inside me,” You told him softly, hand moving from his hair to his cheek. “I need your cock. Please. Is that okay?”
He let out a contented groan at your honesty, head falling against the side of your thigh. “Fuck, yeah, of course that’s okay.” 
Steve moved away from you then, his warmth leaving your body as he pulled back to look at you. The juxtaposition of you being naked right then and him still being completely clothed, made you pout at him.  
“Well, this is very unfair,” You said, reaching out to grab at his shirt. 
Steve was smiling as he leaned in to press a quick kiss against your lips. “I knew you were going to say that.”
Before you could playfully complain any further, he pulled his shirt off and your fingers quickly moved to the waistband of his sweatpants. He let you pull them down along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock that you bit your lip at the sight of, and then Steve did the rest of the work of pulling them off his legs and tossing them somewhere to the side. 
When his body was once again on top of yours, his warmth enveloping you completely, he didn’t hesitate to push inside of you, your wetness making it easy for him to fill you to the hilt. 
Steve’s thrusts were languid and slow, both of you simply craved the feeling of each other rather than anything else. His lips found yours in the most searing kiss that was so different from his unhurried movements above you. It was a messy clash of tongues and teeth and one of your hands came up to tangle itself in his hair. 
You broke the kiss when a particularly rough stir of his hips made him push deeper inside of you and you gasped. “Shit, yes, Steve, right there.”
He hit that specific spot again and again and you were moaning louder each time, not worried about how thin the walls maybe were in this hotel. “You sound so pretty screaming for me, honey. You’re so fucking good.”
You nodded profusely, trying to keep your eyes on his, but it was too hard not to let them slip shut with every perfect snap of his hips. “Only for you.”
It didn’t take long for both of you to reach your ends— it was his thumb on your clit that triggered your orgasm, and it was the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you came that sent Steve over the edge too, pressing his face into your neck. 
A quiet stillness took over as your racing hearts returned to normal and a deeper tiredness took over and made your eyelids feel heavy. 
After you weren’t sure how long, Steve started to shift so that he could move off of you, but you stopped him with a hand on his back before his softening cock could slip out of you and told him that you wanted to stay like this for a bit longer. He didn’t protest your words and instead buried his face back in your neck, pressing the sweetest kiss against your pulse point. You two slowly fell asleep just like that for the time being, too spent and exhausted to make any other movements. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
If it weren’t for the incessant sound of someone knocking on the door, you were certain that you would’ve slept for a few more hours. 
The sound woke you up slowly and then all at once. Your eyes opened and you got the urge to pull the blanket over your head. You weren’t even sure when exactly that had happened, but at some point, you and Steve finally made it under the covers and you had also grabbed his t-shirt and slipped it on too. 
You ultimately didn’t pull the blanket over your head to muffle the noise. Instead, you pulled it off of you when you realized that the knocking was coming from your room. 
“Shit.” 
The door that connected your and Steve’s rooms was still open and you were suddenly so certain that the knocks you were hearing were being rapped against your room door. 
“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when he felt you get out of bed. He tiredly rubbed his eyes; you, on the other hand, were suddenly the complete opposite of tired. 
“I’m pretty sure my mom’s right outside my door. Or my dad. Or both,” You answered him as you quickly searched for your underwear and pajama shorts and found them in different random spots on the floor. “It’s probably both of them, actually, and I’ve had no time to mentally prepare for whatever this conversation is about to be.”
“I can go answer it, if you want,” You heard Steve suggest as you hastily pulled on your bottoms. 
“I think it would be better if we kept the illusion up that we don’t sleep together,” You told him. “I’m gonna go see what they want and I’ll be back in a sec.”
You rushed over to where he was now sitting up in the bed and pressed the quickest kiss against his lips before heading over to your room and pulling the door that connected your room to Steve’s shut.  
You ruffled up the untouched bed so it looked like you actually slept in it last night and then went to open the door before another series of knocks were rapped against it. 
“Hi, good morning, sorry,” You rushed out. It was only your mom standing in front of you, and right then it was hard to tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “The bed’s so comfortable, it was hard to wake up.”
She nodded at your words. “The bed in your dad and I’s room is terrible, we’re gonna try to switch to a different room tonight. Anyway, what time did you and Steve make it here last night?” 
“It was a little after ten.”
“And how was the drive?”
“Good,” You answered simply. “Me and Steve split the time so that made it easier.”
“That’s good,” She smiled. “Do you know if he’s still sleeping?”
“Um, yeah, he probably is,” You shrugged through your lie. “He’s right next door, but I haven’t seen him since last night.”
“Okay, well, your dad and I are going to have breakfast downstairs in an hour with your Aunt Tracy and Uncle Sean, you and Steve should come too.”
Her words sounded like a suggestion, but you knew that they were actually the opposite. 
You forced a smile. “Oh, okay, we’ll definitely meet you guys down there. I’ll go wake him up now.”
“Okay, great,” Your mom smiled back at you. “See you two then.”
You closed the door when she started walking away and headed back to Steve’s room. 
“So, what happened?” He asked as you climbed back into bed. 
You settled next to him and rested your head against his bare shoulder. “We’re having breakfast downstairs with my parents, and my aunt and uncle in an hour.”
Steve nodded at your statement. “Honestly, that sounds good. The last time we ate was right before we got here last night and it was shitty McDonald’s.”
“Yeah, those were the saddest burgers ever,” You said with a sigh. 
“Wait, which aunt is gonna be there?” Steve abruptly asked. “The nice one or the one that hates me?”
You laughed a little. “The nice one. But, I feel like I should remind you again that Cheryl does not hate you.”
“You don’t remember that party the way I do,” He said and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his seriousness. 
It had been a birthday party for your mom a few years back. Of course, Steve and his parents were there, and you and him spent most of the night camping out in your room, away from your mom’s friends and your overbearing family members. It had been your idea to sneak a bottle of wine from the kitchen and bring it to your room, but Steve was the one who actually went and did it. Or at least attempted to before he got caught by your aunt and, according to him, was harshly scolded by her. 
“I’ve seen her a bunch of times since that party and I promise you she doesn’t think you’re a bad influence on me or whatever,” You told Steve, lifting your head from his shoulder to press a kiss against his cheek. “And she definitely doesn’t hate you.”
“We’ll see what happens at the wedding later.”
You leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Don’t worry, if she does hate you, I’ll defend you from any and all shitty comments.”
He gave you an amused smile when you pulled back to look at him. “Thank you, that’s all I ask. You’re the best girlfriend ever.”
You smiled at him as you leaned your head back on his shoulder and closed your eyes, attempting to get a little more sleep before you’d have to force yourself out of bed again. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Steve was right and he didn’t hesitate to whisper an “I told you” in your ear seconds after your Aunt Cheryl gave a warm greeting to you and the coldest hello to him. 
You didn’t have time to respond to Steve’s whispered words because you two were being told by one of the ushers to find seats since the wedding was minutes away from starting. The weather was pretty much perfect; warm but not so much so that it made sitting outside entirely unbearable, which was a little surprising for the middle of August but you weren’t complaining. 
Steve was on one side of you and your parents were on the other, and you smiled in thanks when your mom complimented the dress you were wearing; the long pale pink floral dress that you bought only because you knew she would like it, and you had wanted to avoid her saying anything bad about your clothing choices like she usually did. 
About halfway through the ceremony, Steve’s hand found yours, and the simple action made you suddenly feel warm all over. You shouldn’t have felt so fazed by it— that was something that had happened practically a million times before— but the current circumstances made it feel a little different. 
Samantha was one of your cousins that you weren’t that close with— you remembered going to the sleepover for her fifth birthday party and that was one of the last times you two hung out before you and your family moved to Indiana, and then you only saw her during random family occasions— but she looked beautiful and seemed so genuinely happy that it was hard not to feel a little emotional; it was what weddings did to people. 
You tried to listen to the vows and everything else being said right then, but it was hard to fully focus when all you could think about was a future that would someday involve this with Steve, and how nice that sounded. 
Maybe Steve could suddenly read your mind or the subtle smile on your face, but either way, he was giving your hand a light squeeze, as if telling you that he agreed with everything you were thinking about. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
To probably no one’s surprise, you and Steve stayed attached at the hip throughout the majority of the night. Your hand was always laced in his or his was placed at the small of your back. 
You were grateful for that closeness and you were especially grateful for him because he made it a thousand times easier to deal with family members that you hadn’t seen in forever and the forced small talk that came along with that estrangement. 
It quickly became a revolving door of the same topics and questions— how was graduating last year, how is college going now, what are your future plans, etc, etc— and you thought you’d be able to put up with it for the entire night. However, there were only so many times you could say, “Fine,” “Good,” and “I’m still figuring it out” before it became too annoying. 
Therefore, the second the brief conversation with one of your uncles came to an end, your hand found Steve’s and you led him out of the big ballroom where the reception was happening. He didn’t question your current antics and you two ended up outside moments later— it was much cooler out now, but still comfortable— and you headed toward a little garden area with a bench that you had noticed earlier. 
 “Let’s just sit here for a bit,” You said to Steve, not explaining the why behind you wanting to do this right now, but you didn’t have to. 
He nodded, understanding just how exhausting this entire day had been for you, and sat down with you. Things fell into a comfortable quiet, the first silence all night, and you reveled in it. You shifted around after a few moments so your head was in his lap and your legs dangled off the side of the bench.
“Do you wanna leave? I think we’ve been here for a reasonable amount of time,” Steve said, breaking the quiet after a few minutes of you simply holding his hand and looking at all of the flowers in the garden. “We can go to that Dairy Queen we saw when we were driving here last night, if you want. I think it’s only like ten minutes away.”
You knew what he was trying to do— make things light in any way that he could, and in this case, it meant offering up ice cream— and once again you were reminded of just how fucking grateful you were to have him here with you in this moment.  
“I love you,” You said instead of answering his question. “Like, a lot, a lot, a lot.”
You immediately noticed the smile spread across his face as he looked down at you. “Hm, you’re not drunk right now, so where is this sappiness coming from?” 
“Shh, don’t question it. Just let me get disgustingly cheesy with you right now, Harrington.”
“Okay, sorry, continue,” He told you, but then he abruptly kept going before you could start talking. “And I love you too, by the way.”
You smiled up at him. “Aside from all of the family stuff I had to deal with today, this wedding was actually really nice and it made me think about you and us a lot.”
“In a good way or a bad way?” He was so obviously teasing you because you were certain that he knew the answer to his own question.  
You shook your head at him. “I don’t even want to dignify that insane question with a response.”
He laughed a bit as he pulled your intertwined hands up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of yours, and it was hard not to smile at the action.  
“This entire day made me realize that when we eventually, one day down the road, do this, I don’t want it to be anything like this,” You told him. 
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want all of this huge fanfare and I don’t want a bunch of people that I don’t ever talk to, to be there either. If we just have the kids, and Robin and Eddie, and Nancy and Jonathan too. Oh, and Harold, of course. That’s more than enough for me. Is that okay? Does that even make sense?” You looked up at him to see if he understood what you meant, and of course he did. He always did. 
Steve nodded immediately. “That sounds perfect, honestly.” 
“I know that probably won’t be able to happen because of how involved our moms are gonna want to be with everything, but I just think the thought is nice,” You said with a halfhearted shrug. 
“We can do a small thing with just everyone that we want to be there and then let our moms take the reins on the huge fancy thing that they’ll force us to do.”
“God, you’re so smart,” You said and you wanted to sit up so that you could kiss him— you’d been craving it all night, actually— but you felt too comfortable to move right then. “So, is this a proposal, Steven?”
You were the one doing the teasing now, a smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him and he looked down and met your eyes again. 
He shook his head as he smiled at you. “Give me some time to plan the most elaborate one ever.”
“Take all the time you need,” You told him, and you genuinely meant that. In your eyes, there wasn’t any rush to get to that place. Even though you loved talking about the future with him, you didn't feel the need to make it happen before it was meant to. You two were already happy and in love and you felt so certain that that would never change, so you felt content being in this place with him. “Thank you again for coming with me to this, by the way.”
He lightly poked your side, making you let out the quietest breath of a laugh, before speaking. “You know I’d never say no to you.”
“Aw, I love it when you also get sappy with me,” You sat up then and finally leaned in to slot your lips against his. You hummed in contentment the second he eagerly reciprocated the kiss and your hand instinctually moved to the nape of his neck as you pushed yourself closer to him. 
You savored the moment for as long as you could before you had to pull away to take a breath. “Okay, now let’s get out of here and get ice cream.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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blastoqueen · 6 months ago
Text
Sunrise.
Chapter 4
Rating: Teen and Up
Relationships: Noa x Mae (Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes)
Content warnings: None
Comments: English is not my first language. The chapter problably has a lot of bad english, but in my defense I wrote this with a terrible headache. Anyway this doesn’t have a lot of plot, I just wanted to write something sweet between them
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When Noa looked at Mae, the first thing that came to mind was her eyes. Bright blue, looking deep into his soul. Next thing he thought of was her long hair, entangled and dirty, he often wanted to tell her that she should just cut it all.
“If you are going to be a hairless being, do it right” he never dared to say those words out loud, but the need was strong.
There was a part of him, a confusing and strange part of him, that wanted to touch the brown hair and detangled every not. He has seen Mae do that with her hands.
It had been two weeks since Mae settled in the village. Noa never told the human, but it took a lot of convincing and yelling for the elders to accept her permanently into their clan. He felt almost embarrassed when he had to make an announcement to the rest of the apes, telling them that Mae was a part of them now, and that they should respect her as long as she did her part in the community. Of course, there were disagreements, but eventually most of them came to accept the Echo in the Eagle Clan.
“But going back to her hair…”
------------
“Why only females… come with you?” Soona asked Mae. They were at the lake, getting clean.
“Actually, humans don´t shower next to each other… ideally” the human responded.
“Why?” Case, Soona´s friend interrogated.
“We are shy”
Mae removed her clothes and step into the water, joining the other two females, who were fighting playfully.
“Are you mom?” Case asked.
“What?”
“Your chest”
Mae felt self-conscious, she braced herself, covering up her breast and looking away.
“No, I´m not a mom”
“Oh. Echo thing then”
Soona pinched her friend.
“Chest is big” Soona explained, trying to get Mae out of her shy shelf “Only moms get chest that big… to feed”
“Oh” the human girl said, she uncovered herself, starting to scrub the dirt out of her skin “Yeah, for humans is normal. Most girls have this. You don’t have to be a mom”
They continued getting clean, and when they were done, they relaxed in the grass, watching the sunset.
“I know nobody… sees beauty in you” Case said “but I do. I think you are… pretty”
Mae stayed silent for a few seconds, not sure if she should feel offended.
“I see the beauty too” said Soona “Your body… is different, hairless, thin. But there is beauty… in that. Even if you… are not like ape”
The human smiled, she felt safe, appreciated, loved.
She felt also pretty. And that was nice
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“Where were you, Mae?!” Noa asked. He came running to her and almost hug her. Luckily, he stopped in time “Hair is wet”
“Calm down. I was taking a shower, with the girls” Mae said, almost ignoring him and passing by him
“What? You took shower recently” the ape started to follow her into her room in one of the towers.
“Yeah, humans need to shower often. Be grateful, otherwise you would be begging me to take a shower”
When they got into her shared room, she stopped him right at the entrance.
“Goodnight Noa” she said with a smile. This would be fun.
“Wait what?” the male got confused, she wasn’t going to let him in? Maybe chat a little bit like other nights?
“I share this room, Noa. I can´t just invite a boy whenever I want” she had this grin on her face… the ape catch on her game.
“Oh, I see. Well, if I cannot come in, maybe you should come out” he responded back, leaning into the wall.
“And go where?” Mae asked with a funny smile.
“You´ll see”
“Would there be climbing? You know I prefer walking”
“Do not worry. We take horses” he said. Mae closed the door of her room, ready to follow the Eagle Clan leader.
She started to walk when a hand stopped her.
“And by the way, if we climb, just get on my back, Echo” Noa whispered in her ear.
-------
“Are you allowed to run away in the middle of the night?” Mae asked.
They were in a green field with knee-length grass walking under the moon light and a torch.
“I am not running away” the ape said distracted, looking down to the grass, concern in his face.
“What´s wrong?”
“They should be dancing”
“What?”
“I wanted to show you the lighting dancers”
Mae stared at the ape. Was he loosing his mind?
“Wait!” Noa spoke “They are here”
Right when the girl was about to make a sarcastic comment, a firefly emerge from the grass, shining bright. Then, more of them started to fill the air. Dancing.
“Have you seen one of these?” Noa asked her
“No. I read about them. But I have never… woah”
The human watched fascinated how those little insects were producing light and just flying around, illuminating the dark night. It was truly amazing.
“Thank you for showing me this” Mae said with happiness.
“Anytime”
The fireflies kept dancing and Noa kept falling.
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silkjade · 4 months ago
Text
FAIREST OF THEM ALL
alhaitham x mermaid!reader au ⤀ synopsis: mermaids, and their vanity, and their affinity for pretty things... who better to admire, than the fairest one of all? ⤀ cw: fem!reader, established relationship, mirror sex, fingering, praise, rough + unprotected sex, size kink, creampie, a lil bit of dom!haitham, overstimulation, cervix kisses, squirting, subspace, vry sweet he’s actually so in love — mdni || ꒰ 5.1k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: recommended to read the affiliated series, but it can stand alone as well ! reblogs & feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡
series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・𓇼
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Mermaids and their vanity and their affinity for pretty things…
Where Alhaitham lacks in idle conversations, he makes up for in his acute observation; taking note in particular of the way you glance at your reflection—not only in the mirrors of a merchant’s passing display, but at every turn, and every corner. In the stained glass windows of the Akademiya, in the bronze vessels decorating Lambad’s second floor…even now, on your excursion through the Grand Bazaar, he catches the quick flit of your head as you peer at yourself in the fountain beneath Zubayr Theater. 
Not that he’d ever fault a star for its beauty, when even the sweltering Sumeru sun is roped into your orbit—bending to your will as it dazzles behind you, like a halo in your backdrop. Perhaps the world is, but a shell…and a pearl such as yourself—beautiful and rare—ought to shine on a more veracious display. A familiar smirk plays on his lips, painting his handsome face in a devious shade of sly.
It’s clear from just your peripherals that he must be devising something terrible… Yet there’s a dance to your step when you stop him in his path; your hands clasped coyly behind your back, as you dip into his vicinity with your feigned innocence. 
“And just what are you smiling for?” you lilt, shifting your weight forward onto your tiptoes. He leans over to honor what he can only surmise to be a wordless request, but you pull away before his lips ever have the chance to meet yours. You gleam in that coquettish smile of yours—one that sits so perfectly atop your playful flirtations. “Thinking about me?” 
Alhaitham clears his throat, crossing his arms with a raised brow, despite the remaining wisp still tugging at the corner of his lip. “Am I not allowed to smile?”
By now, he can accurately read your tells and predict your actions: pursed lips and shifting eyes…all in a poor attempt to hide your grin as you quip back with something smart, or flirtatious, or on certain days, shameless—any of which might send a lesser man into a fluster. Not that he fares particularly better when it comes to you… 
So he cuts you off while he’s still ahead, his strong arm easily pulling you back into his sphere, and with a tilt of his head, gestures at the fountain, letting curiosity guide you as it casts your reflection onto the waters’ surface once again.
“Just thinking about how pretty you are...” 
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And pretty you are indeed when he sits you between his legs, your bare back arching away from his chest as he curls his fingers in your cunt, hitting exactly where he knows you’d keen. His free hand kneads at the meat of your inner thigh, parting your legs wider in the process, your pussy lips following suit, blooming with the sticky sound of your wetness. 
Alhaitham huffs, impressed, as he glances into the mirror standing steadfast before you both. Large and unwavering, it’s resolute in its honorable pursuit to uncover the truth—the one with your cunt propped open and your head thrown into the curvature of his neck. The one you’re clearly not yet privy to, if your eyes are squeezed shut in the midst of all your pleasure. It’s a shame, really. For although he’s never had the ambition to conquer the unknown verities, if such beauty were the splendor of all the world’s truths, then he’d gladly partake down this endless road—as a scholar or as a madman. After all, who better to perfect his limited human perspective, than the fairest one of all? 
Tilting his head, he kisses his way up the column of your neck, feeling you curl into him as he paints intermittent bruises on your supple skin, stopping only when he reaches beneath your ear so that his teeth may tug lightly on its lobe. 
“I know how you love to admire your own reflection…” His voice gravels in your ear, the rich baritone sending a shiver whose reach extends all the way down to your core. “So don’t you want to see how pretty you look?” 
“No. That’s—” Whining, you continue to shake your head at the very prospect, ignoring the clear disconnect as you tighten and clench around the fingers still holed up inside of you. “‘s embarrassing…”
He hums from deep in his chest; thoughtfully amused at how such words could leave your mouth, when your cunt gushes as unabashedly as if she were attempting to lure his fingers further with a squelching song of her own. But there’s nothing to tempt, when there’s no iron will to break, for your bodies move like the moon and the tide: ebbing and flowing, ever connected, fates intertwined. Where his thumb spreads to draw harsh circles, your breath shallows in response, crying out at the sudden aggressive waves of pleasure that surge at your clit. Your nails dig into the sheets, hips lifting and squirming to no avail, as he continues to barrage you from the inside out. 
“Haitham…” you breathe, and he knows you’re close from how you moan through sealed lips, brows furrowed and teeth clenched, until the disappointing realization that he’s pulled out. Your doe eyes flutter open, perplexed and brimming with spoiled petulance at his amused brow and little smirk, whilst at the same time, your lips part with all the intention of asking your lover ‘whyyyy?’, if only for the fact that he’s simply…faster. 
Slick-coated fingers grasp onto your chin, slowly tilting your head down—away from that safe corner by his neck—so that you’d come meet him in the mirror, with all your vanity in tow. He holds your gaze, never turning away, not even as his head dips again so that his lips are level when he whispers low and sultry into your ear.
“If you look away, I’ll stop.” 
…And so you watch as Alhaitham turns his attention back between your legs, spreading open your folds until they’re well smeared with your free-flowing slick. And you watch as two lithe fingers penetrate past your slit, steadily pumping slow, smooth strokes, before splintering apart to stretch you open in preparation for the third prodding at your entrance, eager to join the fray.
“That’s it,” he coos, though his low voice does absolutely nothing to soothe how you squirm against him at the…discomfort? The fervor? Perhaps even the discomfort of such fervor, as it’s become nigh difficult to tell, when his free hand has migrated to fondle with one of your breasts, roughly kneading the mound to double your sensations. “Look at you…” 
Yet what is there to look at but the lascivious combination of your shame and desire? Both wrestle for a place in your reflection, battling to outweigh the other upon your visage…but it’s hardly a fair fight when shame has never been your forte—especially not when you squeeze around him so tightly, almost as if in resistance to how he’s scissoring you open.
It’s almost mesmerizing how your body reacts so eagerly: how your mouth falls open in a gasp and then a squeal, as your gummy walls concede to stretch by way of his provocation. Or that slight hitch in your breath, chest stuttering as you inhale the familiar stretch of three digits sinking into your cunt whilst you sink ever deeper into the watery depths of such hedonistic volitions.
Still, Alhaitham so greedily grasps at every open inch of you, ravishing your body with almost everything at his disposal. His chiseled frame looming behind you as he holds you open and bare, his grip the jaws of lust incarnate; his heavy breath crowding on your skin like a heated apparition of his own dire need to fuck and please and share in the admiration of just how beautiful he thinks you are—until like fine mist, it disperses across your mind, and the shame melts off your bones, replaced with only the desire for more, for him, for more of him.
“Haitham…” you mewl again, brows furrowing in an earnest attempt to keep your eyes open in spite of the rush, because god forbid he stop… 
But it’s tortuous, the way Alhaitham pumps his fingers in and out—slowly, steadily—so that you’d see in your reflection, just how wet you are, hear every squish that sounds as he repeatedly buries himself three knuckles deep. Your slick coats his skin with a layer of gloss at every re-emergence, wordlessly conveying that it isn’t nearly enough to satisfy the burning ache between your legs.
“Please more… ‘m so close…” Pleading, you do what you can to muster your sweetest voice, your most honeyed cadence, in the hopes that you’d persuade him to your cause, rolling your hips to embody your words, furthering both his reach and your intent. For all the time you’ve spent with your lover in the nation of wisdom, it’s certainly helped to remember that only praxes can truly validate such words of honesty, and you truly are honest in your intent to cum.
“As you wish,” he hums, and his breath wraps around the shell of your ear in a warm embrace (though it’s hardly even an ember compared to the heat quickly ebbing in your belly.) The want amplifies by tenfold as he digs the heel of his palm against your clit, forcing another wave of euphoria to course through your form, as he angles his fingers in pursuit of where you feel him most. 
Every twist, every curl, beckons at sweet release, as the tips of his fingers drag past each velvet inch of your walls at an ungodly pace, drawing out your orgasm with such magnetic fortitude that even your own lucidity seems to fade in the midst of such mental upheaval. It goes, and it goes, and it’s gone—as if the plug had just been pulled from your very being—and like a doll, your eyes fall shut to the joy of diving back into such revelry.
A sharp slap to your clit jolts you back to reality with a staggered gasp, your thighs nearly snapping shut at the sudden impact, while rootless static fills the emptiness in your stolen pleasure. Your perpetrator, however, only spares you a half-lidded glance whilst he continues to brandish the finishing touches of another hickey along your neck.  
“Keep looking,” he issues, one part a command, the other, a warning. His grip loosens from your thigh, allowing your legs to fall just the slightest bit slack, before his voice softens and he pries open the lips of your drenched cunt, strumming through your folds so unbearably lazily, as you situate your gaze back into the mirror. “I want you to see everything I do to you…”
“Like how pretty you are when I touch you…” He dips a finger between your pussy lips, unfolding the rippling petals on his way up your slit, carefully paving the way for his place beneath the hood of your clit. “Here,” he drawls, rubbing at the nub so deliberately, that the sudden titillation evokes your instinct to shrink away with a broken, pitched cry; for wherever you squirm, Alhaitham follows, and backed against his chest, there’s nowhere left to turn, but forward at your reflection in the glass. 
It's obscene. You’re obscene. But despite the disconnect with your head, your body still begs for more, and you think it’s almost pathetic how far you’ve sunk into his magnetism (though you vaguely recall it was once the other way around) that you hardly recognize the figure before you, so…distorted by the draw of lust. Your chest heaving with every breath that circulates through full, parted lips, your face bleary from carrying the heavy weight of pleasure on your lashes. Yet, the longer you watch, the more you glisten between your legs, clearly seduced by that perfect view of your own body on display. 
Perhaps there is something provocative about the way your folds are spread, barred open by his fingers while he taps away at your clit. Perhaps there is some coquetry in the way your empty hole drools, some enchantment in how your juices shine…everything to flaunt how you need to cum—how you need him and anything he’s willing to give. 
Your eyes begin to glaze, your focus drifting as you continue to stare at how your lover’s reflection so teases the hardened nub, every touch drumming your nerves with pleasure like the beguiling lull of gentle waves. At least your lungs seem to appreciate the monotonous pattern; your heaving chest adjusts to match his rhythm, the faint stimulus now an almost comfortable familiarity—one too easily shattered by the whims of another, as Alhaitham presses firmly into your swollen clit.
Renewed arousal swells in your belly, burning through whatever you thought had previously dissipated, and closing the window on any remnant of self-restraint, as you soon start to squirm with electrified impatience. Once steady breaths devolve into ragged gasps; your spine curves and your hips jolt, all from exposure to Alhaitham’s prolonged stimulation, writhing this way and that, until you inevitably grind against his cock, surprising him with his own throbbing rush of sensation. 
“Do you see how,” Alhaitham grunts, gritting his teeth as he holds down a groan, “erotic you are…” Even half-dazed, you can feel just how hard his erection stands against the small of your back.
You exhale, waveringly so, as you steady yourself before releasing your grasp on the sheets, clawing weakly at his toned bicep in an effort to garner his attention. Between your misty eyes and sweat-mottled skin, disheveled hair and trembling thighs…there’s a delicate show of tenacity as your reflection holds his gaze, daring to dance with the devil you’ve chosen to submit to. “So show me what I look like when you fuck me.”
“Gladly,” he chuckles, and there’s a wicked glint that shines from beyond the turquoise, accompanied by a dim clang and a quiet rustle, as he frees his cock from its fabric confines. 
A low growl rumbles from deep in his throat as his hands run a path along the concave of your waist, before scooping you up by the underside of your thighs, and shifting you further in his lap—spread open on wide display, behind the glaring pink of his leaking tip. 
Alhaitham drags his cock along your slit, gathering slick from your fluttering anticipation, as he tempers the urge to plunge into you right then and there. He swallows the thought, giving way for the honeyed lilt of your name to flow from his lips instead. You turn, looking up at him with that darling half-lidded gaze, and he breathes in the sweet image of your pretty face. Please allow him to have one good look at you—the real you, in the flesh—before he fucks you into oblivion. 
He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, murmuring something you don’t quite catch. “‘Ayouni,” he hums, aligning his cock at your entrance. (My love, my eyes—as precious as the gift of sight.) “Nour ‘ayouni…” His tip dips past your entrance, wallowing in the tight fit, before finally pushing into your quivering insides—a resolute promise to fill both your desires, and your cunt as deep as you’d take him. (Light of my eyes, anything for you.)
Large hands secure themselves onto your hips, easily crowding you in until your knees are folded before your tits and your back is pressed flush against his chest. Every bead of sweat stitches your bodies together, skin on damp skin, though only you are locked on full, shameless display; your body and limbs tethered to invisible strings in his hands—his little mermaid, his little doll—to maneuver and fold as he pleases.
A pitched sob breaks the thickness in the air, followed by a few hushed whimpers and stifled moans, as you watch yourself take him, inch by overwhelming inch. It’s never truly occurred to you how big he really is—at least not until now, when you’re confronted before your very eyes with just how much your little hole must work to accommodate his size. That initial stretch when he first pushes past your folds, and how it grows wider little by little as he forges on… (it’s no wonder you always feel so delectably full.) Or how you can clearly see the protruding veins disappear as he glides deeper (is that how he’s always able to touch upon every crook and corner?)
The sight alone has you pulsing: your greedy cunt quite literally drooling at the prospect of swallowing him down to the base, churning out more slick to ease his descent, and melting any discomfort into delight. As his bonafide lover, it’s one thing to be fucked beyond belief, but to see yourself completely surrendered to your lecherous desires, and entirely pliable at his behest…? What a terrifying way to solicit your pleasure.
Still, you’ve no choice but to sputter out a moan as your walls constrict around his shaft, drawing out a grunt from Alhaitham with how titillating it feels when you cling to him like this. His rasp reverberates on the shell of your ear, travelling down your spine like lust-tainted fire to pass the message down between your thighs. And although dew threatens to blur your vision, from what you can see in the mirror, it’s clear that he’s yet to bottom out. Even worse, is that you can feel the emptiness—your insides so cravenly wanting what is amiss—because it’s just so inherently wrong that you aren’t full enough, that he isn’t deep enough.
An urgent hand flies to tangle your fingers in his hair, as you turn to pull him into a wanton kiss, your lips just as greedy as your hips that grind on his cock for more. “Want you,” you murmur between tongue and teeth, exchanging breaths as desperation and uncertainty clash in your throat, and crack like lightning in your voice. “All of you, all the way…please…?”
“Aren’t you, ngh,” he pauses, failing to swallow down his grunt, as disbelief rolls in with another tide of arousal that pulses in his cock. His attempt to taunt, ruined by his inability to resist any longer. “Aren’t you shameless today?”  
“Don’t care.” Though slurred, the words still tumble out of your mouth with a sense of urgency, your fingers curling against him, grasping onto the hope that he’d finally fill you. “Just n-need you.” In such a deliriated state, it’s difficult to tell whether you had imagined the way his breath rings through the hollows of your bones—the resounding echoes of a small, yet exasperated laugh reverberating through the very core of your being…but it was real, and his presence was there, and how could he ever say no when you’re asking for his cock so nicely? Per your request, of course he’ll drop you lower onto his shaft.
Alhaitham groans, powerless against the way you whine, tightening around him as he advances further and further, until he bottoms out with a guttural ‘fuck.’ He’s never had you in such a position, but with you atop his lap and gravity as his prerogative, it’s suffice to say he’s reached... 
“Too..d-deep…” you babble, eyes rolling back as your words disperse into the same nothingness that’s engulfed your thoughts. 
A soft tut tut clicks from his tongue, followed by a light roll from his hips…and suddenly your string of whimpers break into a shrill gasp as his eager tip kisses the entrance to your womb. Alhaitham is, after all, a man of his word, though this time, he lets his actions speak in his stead. (Where did I tell you to look, habibti?)
There’s little time to process any of his wordless cues—especially not when his stuttered breath is hot against your neck, the warmth just beginning to melt away the jarring discomfort of being penetrated so deeply, before equally warm fingers squish your cheeks to turn your attention back to the mirror in question. “Like what you see?” he whispers, and your dew-laden eyes flutter open to the sight of you and him: thighs spread, legs tangled, your hips on his, as you sit impaled on the entirety of his length. 
All you can muster is a whimper and a nod, because what else can you do when you’re so overcome by the feeling of Alhaitham…everywhere? On your tongue where you can still taste his kiss, in your veins where his love circulates to your heart, and most obvious of all, in your cunt where his leaking precum swirls with your slick.
“Show me where you feel me,” he rasps, gingerly plucking your hand away from that wrinkled patch of sheets you so desperately latch on to. His touch is sticky on the back of your hand—no doubt the remnants of your juices still clinging stubbornly to his fingers, like a souvenir collected from his last venture between your legs—but he serves well as a guide: directing you along your abdomen, letting just the very tips of your fingers, ghost across your sensitive skin. 
“This…” Starting at the apex of your thighs, he helps you along the path up your lower waist. “... is how far I am inside you…” 
You can’t help but wonder if it were even possible to be buried so deep within someone, but curiosity gets the better of you, and your hand begins to move on its own, absentmindedly glossing over where you feel his tip so deep, it almost seems…taboo. Not that you really care for the ins and outs of such moral standards, especially when it feels so right to be stuffed so full. Or perhaps your eyes are simply playing tricks on you—dirty work done by the fog that’s settled in your head with the sole intent of altering your cognition. 
“Don’t believe me?” Hand in hand, he presses gently down onto your belly, where even the slightest bit of pressure is enough to make you jolt. But from the way he struggles to catch his breath, to the violent throbs bursting all along his length, Alhaitham too, suffers from the repercussions of his boldfaced provocation—too human to act as if he’d been left unscathed.
For even as you cry in little songs of pleasure, your walls almost seem to be spinning a trance of its own: clenching and unclenching, the pulsating rhythm urging him to move… Which he obliges to of course—adjusting ever so slightly, until he’s perfectly angled and prodding at the divot that absolutely ruins whatever’s left of you, as you’re made to feel everything all at once. Every long, languid stroke comes as an electric current, reinvigorating dead limbs as the muscles come twitching back to life, conducting more and more arousal with every rough drag of his cock. Euphoria surges and sparks fly, overloading the wires in your head, with each thrust into the very spot that unravels you so. 
“Keep singing for me,” he murmurs, content with how the shape of his name breaks into pieces of fragmented  whimpers and moans, echoing across the room. It’s clear his words are largely lost on you—displaced by the fresh barrage of wet kisses down your neck, to be absorbed through your skin and used as fuel for your core. 
“My beautiful mermaid,” Alhaitham keeps his eyes locked on your reflection; eager, despite his own fraying disposition, to catch all your reactions. “My beautiful mermaid…who always…” 
His grip tightens around the meat of your thighs, while a dominant hand glides up to the back of your knee—effectively lifting your leg higher and spreading you open wider—before a quick, rough motion lands him somewhere inexplicably deep.“…takes me so well.” 
You keen, nails digging into whatever they can, anything that might still tether you to this reality when every sensation has been ignited into something far too big for you to handle. Your back curves in response, arching away from his chest, but the shift in position only sits you deeper on his cock, and a shrill sob cracks from your throat, as your stomach coils and your teary eyes flutter open to the direct image of your reflection. In the mirror’s shallow abyss, your looming orgasm stares back as its own depraved monster—inhabiting your body and tainting your pretty face with lecherous intent, as it urges you to let go. 
“Come on, let go…” Or perhaps the fiend whispering in your ear is Alhaitham himself. “I promise you’re just as ravishing when you cum,” he croons, speeding up his pace to climb the heights of his determination. “Maybe even more so…”
The sheer intensity of his rough fucking is overwhelming. The extensive depth, the meticulous precision, the impressive girth—they’re all things you’ve come to expect in the bedroom with your less-than-feeble lover. But to exploit your vanity, whilst simultaneously feeding you with praise…to hold you open with his own hands, to make you a spectator of your own base instincts…
It’s a dangerous combination. It’s too much. It has your entire body trembling as the pressure peaks—your muscles wound taut, and your pussy clenching tight. 
“‘m c-cumming…” you sob, though your quivering voice soon falls flat from the sheer enormity of the orgasm that races to smother you in its fervor, replacing the blood in your veins with liquid bliss, and allowing that to circulate through every inch of your being, until it becomes the only thing you can even bear to breathe.
The name ‘Haitham’ tangles with your cries, and he loves it—addicted even, to the sound of you, the sight of you—finds it near impossible to tear his eyes away from that perfect view of your pretty little cunt, obediently stretched and fully stuffed with every inch of his length. Warmth blooms and engulfs him at his mushroom tip, and Alhaitham bucks by reflex, desperate to chase your waning orgasm with his.
He’s close too; you can feel it. The familiar (yet delusional) way in which each throb seems to fill you out even more, the relentless increase in speed and force, unapologetically running his veined cock along your sensitive walls, over and over until he drags you back to the edge. His own breath skips and stutters in his lungs, but still he punctuates each word with power and precision, jutting in as deep as you’d allow him to follow. “Just. Like. That.” 
And so, when it breaks, it shatters—like skipping stones across the water, rippling and disruptive as they bound on and on in a path of hedonistic destruction—until your vision blanks, and your body convulses, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. Your release comes in a violent torrent, uncontrollably battering through your body as you drench him in your juices, leaving the remaining splice of your consciousness trembling, spent, and completely surrendered to the pleasure. 
Somewhere in the white noise, you hear the echo of your name, said with a pleased lilt, as if he were…impressed? Proud? Maybe even both, for Alhaitham finds himself mesmerized by the undeniable, tangible evidence, that he’s pleasured you this far beyond belief. It’s surreal—the only word in any of the languages he’s studied (including yours)—that could even begin to describe such eroticism. For a moment, he loses track of his movements, lets his hips fall to an irregular rhythm as he fully takes to the reflection in the mirror: colorless, liquid pleasure still dripping from your hole, glistening as it runs down his shaft with every shallow draw…only to be pushed back with a squish and a squelch from the wetness that now finds a rival in the soaked sheets. 
Without hesitation, he pummels back to reality, thinking only with his cock, as he pounds into you with a newfound ferocity that seems almost inhumane…but then again, a mermaid like you isn’t quite human after all.
“Can you, ngh, hold out…a little longer…?” His voice is low and strained, yet still retaining a softness reminiscent of morning mist above the waters, grazing wisps atop your skin. (Just a little longer, I promise.)
“‘kay…” The word spills from your mouth, melted and slurred into a weak mewl, too dazed to process much, other than the fact that you’d do anything he asked of you, even at your own expense. Just a little longer…(but ignore the tears that prick of overstimulation.) For him, for Alhaitham, anything for Alhaitham (in spite of how your body screams ‘too much,’ as you cream around his cock again, this time faster than all the others had come.)
Any sense of clarity found in your mantra, only serves to prove that perhaps your head truly has been scrambled to nonsense, because the only thing you could even fathom to think of, is the desperate need for him to finish inside you. For him to paint you with a white fire so hot, it’d cleanse away even the smallest remnants of your tortuous embers. The final few thrusts come sloppily—too busy drowning in your deluge to care—while the very last stroke nuzzles deep against your womb, as he fills you full of his cum. 
Two sets of labored breathing resonate around the room, and in the afterglow, Alhaitham sets your frail legs down, knees buckling and knocking into one another, as your feet are finally brought to rest on something solid. (Though mentally, you don’t feel any closer to the ground.) Still, the drastic change in position shuffles his cock against your sensitive walls, breathing life to another soft groan that escapes into a silent harmony. 
“Sorry,” he whispers, peppering you with soft kisses wherever his lips can reach. The unyielding grip, once pressed so firmly into your thighs, melts away—replaced by gentler hands that work to sooth the tenderness in your flesh. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?” He readies himself to withdraw from your warmth, but you blink your bleary eyes, and the distant stars in your pupils illuminate just a fraction more. 
Alhaitham studies the ‘you’ in the mirror; watches the steady rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evens out, and your red-rimmed gaze drifts down the length of your body. One of your hands absentmindedly wanders, delicately brushing over the dark imprints left upon the skin of your thighs, color-matched to the hickeys blooming along your neck and shoulders—each one a bruise forged from his passion. And nothing could ever attest more to the throes of passion than the very reflection of your bodies, melded seamlessly together: his cock in your cunt, leaking with shared essence.
‘How…beautiful…’ 
You shake your head in dreamy opposition. “W’nna stay like this…for…a bit longer…” Your words trail into a content sigh as you rest your head back against that comfortable nook at the juncture of his neck, angling just enough to still catch your reflections in the mirror.
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notes2: mirrors in his kit -> mirror in the bedroom pipeline, am i right (๑>؂•́๑) … i wasn't able to complete this in time for mermay this year, so consider this a little something for kinktober, i suppose ^^;; but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank you so much for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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lehnsherrrr · 3 months ago
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Here’s a collection of all the gayest cherik gifs I could find, with a description for why each one of them is gay because micro movements and body language are my favourite. (I’m autistic and focus on details instead of the big picture.)
First things first.
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The way he’s just STARING, and he does this a lot, like pretty much always. But as Charles turns, Erik stays in the same place, meaning he is now weirdly close to him. The only place he could look is Charles neck and jawline, which is CRAZY, but what’s crazier is how he does it so confidently.
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Charles goes to put his arm up, but decides not too. Even after this I’m pretty sure he has his arm around Erik anyway, but it’s actually gayer that Charles had a moment to think ‘Wait I shouldn’t put my arm there. He could���ve just done it, but instead he had to think about it.
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The calm before the violence. The way Charles sees them both there, then actually realises it’s Erik, and his eyes light up. Also love the way you can see Erik’s reflection, it’s beautiful.
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But of course that tender love that came so instinctively immediately washes away as the past 10 years come flooding back. But for just a moment, the shock of seeing Erik again made him forget about the pain.
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Also see, Erik’s moment of recognition. This isn’t the pretty shiny professor big eyes, soft face, and love radiating from him. This is a tired grizzled man, a whole 10 years older, no longer prim and proper, no longer the star student. And also in this moment, Charles doesn’t have his powers, so Erik also can’t feel those constant rays of love being sent from him, which he so heavily associated with him. He might even only recognise him because they’re face to face, but he still manages it, cause how could he ever forget Charles.
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More on that previous idea, here Erik immediately recognises Charles from just the presence of him alone. It’s been another 10 years, Charles hasn’t even spoken, and Erik already knows he’s there.
Think of it, him going through all this darkness and pain, standing there wallowing in a shadow. And then suddenly, there’s a light. That beam of love that he hadn’t felt for over 20 years now, but it’s stuck with Erik, because he holds onto it so dearly.
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These two gifs together. If these are the brotherly friend enemies bros that the movies were supposed to portray them as, then there was absolutely no reason for either of them to be so stricken with emotion about the other that they are brought to tears.
You can feel it if you look at them here, you can feel your heart ache as theirs do. There are words unspoken, tears spilling out as they think about the other, thinking about coming back together.
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Okay easing up from the heartbreak. Aftercare for the emotional rawdogging I just put you through.
Look at this hoe. GIRL LOOK AWAY??? FOR ONE SECOND??? I don’t think Charles even feels that strongly for Erik in this moment, but Erik sure does. Look at him, the pure admiration in his eyes. Terrible.
In this part of the film, Erik is still in awe at Charles. Everything Charles does is so full of love, Erik can’t even comprehend it. Especially that this love was being directed towards him, towards people Charles didn’t even know. He’s dumbstruck.
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And then this. What. Girl. WHAT.
As a queer person, it’s rare that I have such an intensely gay moment. Look at it. There’s not even tension here, they’re so relaxed.
But now think about this. How did they get there?? Which of them suggested it?????
One of them would’ve had to ask to hang out with the other. Alone.
Then I bet it was Erik who said “excellent idea I’ll bring the chess set.”
And then they wondered around looking for a place to sit and thought “hm yes those big white steps beside a beautiful view of water looks perfect, we’d be very alone there!”
And then they both would’ve walked up those steps, and sat down to play chess.
and THEN.
Charles would’ve eventually leaned back. But he didn’t just lean back, he leaned towards Erik. Look at the way he’s laying, he’s so relaxed.
You ever been by yourself and realise you’re sat in the weirdest position? Hanging out with a close friend or partner, this will also happen.
Charles isn’t aware of how he’s sat, he just did it cause he’s relaxed and comfortable.
And they ain’t even playing chess.
It’s either Charles or Erik’s turn, and I’m not even sure if they know whose turn it is. Erik is yapping about politics, and Charles is listening but also staring at him instead of the view.
Also note the way that Erik doesn’t look at Charles here. He is looking at his thoughts as he speaks (a very neurodivergent thing to do). And if he is always looking at the thing he’s thinking about, then that explains what he’s thinking about when he’s looking at Charles.
I mean really Michael Fassbender, what was your thought process when acting out these scenes.
I went to acting school for a very large part of my life (absolutely traumatic) and the most important thing in acting is to not just do what the character is doing. You have to think it, believe it.
So tell me Michael Fassbender, what was Erik thinking as you stared longingly at James’ jaw, eyes, neck. When you looked him up and down, when you touched him so gently.
You made those decisions, you knew what you were doing. Actors always have the final say.
ONE LAST THING.
This happens so many times I couldn’t find just one gif, and I also met the gif maximum.
There are so many moments in all of the films where Erik and Charles just stare at each other. I thoroughly believe they are talking telepathically in those moments. When they stare at each other at the strip club? They’re saying something about Angel. It’s obvious.
I actually really like the way the film doesn’t tell us what they’re saying, cause they’re so obviously speaking and we don’t even need to hear it. Charles is a telepath, you don’t just stare into a telepaths big blue eyes and have no thoughts in your head. And a telepath doesn’t just stare at you and not project anything. That’s so unrealistic.
Also see this post to see how gently Erik touches Charles (and one time he doesn’t) ((wish that was me AWOOGA))
Need to rest my hands now this one knackered me. If you have any other gifs of those little moments, PLEASE SEND THEM TO MEEEEEE
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Walk The Line.
Carmen gets a little jealous. You don’t mind in the slightest.
roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. semi public antics.
word count - 2.5k
authors note - ask and you shall receive 😌. i’ll never get enough of roommate!carmy. i’ll be writing him forever. <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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He’s a little out of his depth, admittedly.
The invitation had been slid under your front door, pretty handwriting on creamy paper.
“A… party?”
“Does it say party, Carmen?”
“No, it says ‘mixer.’ What the fuck is a mixer?”
You laugh, scrubbing a mark off the final dish in the sink before placing it down in the drying rack. Carmy is sat on the counter across the kitchen, reading the invite over and over.
“Seriously, babe. The fuck does mixer mean? So it isn’t a party?”
You dry your hands and make your way over to take the paper from him, eyes scanning over it carefully.
“A mixer is like… a get to know each other thing. It’s sort of like a party, I guess, but not really. Just a casual gathering type situation.”
“Sounds fucking stupid,” he grumbles.
You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes.
“Lighten up, asshole. It could be fun.”
“Fun? You think having a mixer with all the neighbours from our building on a Friday night is gonna be fun?”
“I think it sounds like an incredible time. My ideal evening. I can’t wait.”
You can’t even pretend not to laugh, grabbing onto his thigh to keep yourself balanced. He puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to look serious, but the grin fighting its way up his cheeks gives him away.
“You really wanna go?”
“Carm, if it’s terrible, we’ll just lie and say we’ve got plans elsewhere. We’ll run away screaming if we need to. It might be good for us though, to meet our neighbours properly. It’s good to get to know them, just in case we ever need anything.”
“What, like a cup of sugar? What is this, the thirties?”
“When you’re testing recipes and fucking them all up, you might be grateful to be able to nip next door and borrow a cup of sugar.”
“I don’t fuck recipes up.”
“No? Then why were you yelling at a lavender and oat crème brûlée last week?”
“It was mocking me,” he grumbles under his breath, hanging his head.
You can’t help but laugh, moving closer to stand between his manspread legs where he still sits on the counter. You brush a piece of hair back from his forehead, tracing your index finger in a featherlight touch down the bridge of his nose. He looks down at you, eyes glued to yours.
“I know for a fact you don’t have anything else planned on Friday,” you whisper.
He rolls his eyes but leans into your touch anyway, where you’re still tracing along the features of his face.
“You promise we can leave if it’s terrible?”
“We literally live in this building. We can just walk up the stairs and be home.”
He huffs, but relents.
“Fine. But please don’t leave me alone with all of the middle aged moms. They love me.”
“Oh, I’m sure they do,” you giggle, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. His arms encircle you, pulling you as close as he can.
Is this scene too intimate for roommates? Without a doubt.
Do either of you care? Not in the slightest.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be.
The middle aged moms have pulled through, actually. The lobby is decorated with fairy lights, tables covered in alcohol set up against the walls. Everyone has a drink in their hand, chatting and mingling amongst themselves.
You and Carmen walk downstairs a little late. He’d finished his shift and run home to shower and make himself look semi presentable before facing the neighbours.
“We need a signal,” he says suddenly, right as you reach the staircase. “In case of emergencies.”
“Pat your head.”
“Real subtle.”
“It doesn’t need to be subtle, it needs to be noticeable for me.”
“Fine,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Don’t leave me alone with that Erica lady. She scares me.”
“Yes sir,” you mock salute, slipping your hand into his momentarily. “You’ll be fine, Carmen. Like I said, we’ll just leave if it’s awful.”
It’s not awful, actually. It’s quite fun.
It’s nice to get to know the people in your building, seeing as you have lived there for a couple of years now. Carmen has been there even longer.
“Excuse me, sweetheart?”
You turn around to be met with an old lady, leaning carefully on her cane.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m Dorothy. I live in 2B, and I just had to tell you that you look beautiful in your dress.”
You smile, pulling out a chair for her, which she takes gladly. You sit down next to her, spotting Carmy chatting with a couple of guys across the room.
“Thank you so much!”
You introduce yourself, telling her your name and apartment number.
“Ah yes,” she hums in recognition. “You live with your boyfriend who has all the tattoos.”
You almost choke on your drink.
“We’re just roommates,” you say eventually. “But yes, that’s him.”
“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed.”
You’re curious, suddenly. You know you shouldn’t be, but you can’t help yourself.
“Can I ask? Why you… thought we were dating?”
She chuckles knowingly before placing a hand on your knee.
“Honey, he’s got a hand on you at all times. He looks at you like you are the sun. Every time you walk past my window, you’re both laughing. Sounds like love to me.”
Her bluntness is refreshing, if not a little intimidating. No one will say it how it is more than a little old lady who can’t mind her business.
“We, uh… we’re close. He’s a good roommate. A good friend.”
She doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, chuckling as she pats your leg.
“Uh huh. That’s what I said about my husband - real good friend. We’ve been married 58 years.”
You smile, shaking your head.
“Is he here with you?”
“He’s upstairs. He can’t really leave the apartment, these days.”
“You know, if you ever need anything, me and Carmen would be happy to help.”
“No, sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to-”
“-you’re not asking me, I’m offering. Carmen is an award winning chef at one of the best restaurants in this city. He’d be more than happy to make a meal or two when needed. And I can pick you guys up stuff from the grocery store when I go, too.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing your hand in her frail one. “You’re good kids, you two.”
You grin at her, squeezing her hand gently.
“You know where I am, if you need me.”
She nods, standing up carefully.
“I’m going to go see if that handsome Jeremy will come and fix my shower for me. He did promise.”
You laugh, watching as she makes a beeline for one of the dads stood in a huddle. You catch eyes with Carmy, who’s still chatting away with a few of the younger guys. He winks at you, all cheeky and carefree, and you can’t help but flush, heat prickling across your skin. You shake your head, smiling, winking back.
Suddenly, there’s a hand on your bicep. You spin sideways, to be met with the sight of a very handsome man. Dark hair, big brown eyes, tall - he looks slightly like a movie star you can’t quite remember the name of. You crane your neck to meet his gaze, smiling softly.
He holds out his hand to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Daniel.”
You tell him your name, trying to ignore how his hand engulfs yours.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You laugh, shaking your head.
“Have you lived here long? Think I’d remember a face like yours.”
Now he shakes his head.
“A month, maybe. I live in 6C. I’ve been working a lot, so haven’t had any time for introductions.”
“Ah. What do you do?”
“I’m a model.”
Of course he is.
“What do you do?”
As you start to tell him, his eyes fix on yours, not leaving for a moment. He listens carefully, both of you blocking out the noise and focusing on each other.
Turns out, Daniel is good company. The two of you find a spot in the corner, away from the noise and the wine drunk moms. The two of you laugh, joke, and talk about Chicago as if you’re old friends. Time slips away from you easily, conversation flowing with minimal effort.
“I don’t want to leave, trust me… but I have a super early call time tomorrow. If you wanted, we could grab a drink sometime, somewhere that’s not our buildings lobby?”
You laugh, nodding.
“Yeah, I’d like that. It was nice to meet you, Daniel.”
“You too. Here,” he says, handing you a small business card with his number on, “text me.”
“I might do just that,” you tease as he walks away grinning.
You’re on your way to grab another drink when a hand slinks around your wrist.
“Hi, Carmen.”
You don’t even have to turn to know who it is, recognising the feeling of his calloused hand against your soft skin.
“Where’s your friend gone?” he all but grumbles.
“He’s gone home, got to be up early for work.”
“Haven’t we all.”
“Ooo, okay Mr Attitude. You’re not having a good night? You didn’t give me the signal.”
“Would you have noticed if I did?”
You spin around to face him properly now.
“Yes, I would have. Because we’re in a tiny fucking lobby and not a football stadium, Carmen.”
He huffs.
“Didn’t think you’d notice if the building fell down, the way you were lost in his eyes.”
“I know it’s a foreign concept to you, Carmen, but eye contact is actually a very important part of conversation. Try it some time.”
Carmy rolls his eyes, grip on your wrist tightening.
“Come on,” he mumbles. “Wanna show you something.”
He practically drags you up the stairs, and up some more, and up some more. Eventually, you reach the roof.
The sun is just setting, casting the city in a warm orange glow. Everything is so calm, so peaceful, so serene. It’s beautiful.
You’re admiring the view when suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Carmy has you over his shoulder, carrying you across the rooftop to the brick wall.
“The fuck are you doing?” you cry as he finally puts you down.
He smashes his lips to yours, choosing to shut you up rather than answer you. You kiss back eagerly, confused but not disappointed at the turn in events. Slipping your hands into his hair, you tug him into you, groaning as he grabs at your ass.
“Carmen,” you breathe, “why don’t we just go home?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he mumbles against your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. When he bites down, you smack his shoulder.
“No marks, asshole. The fuck is up with you?”
Again, he says nothing, just slips his hand under your dress to run his fingers over your underwear. You part your legs instantly, leaning back into the wall to steady yourself.
“Carmen, someone’s gonna see if they come up here.”
“Well then you better come quickly.”
He slips your panties to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat. You keen, knees buckling already.
“Oh baby,” he chuckles. “This all for Daniel?”
It all clicks for you suddenly.
“That’s what-” you choke as he slides a finger into you. “That’s what - fuck - has you so riled up? Daniel?”
“Don’t say his name when I’m knuckle deep, baby. It’s rude.”
You attempt to scoff, but it comes out as more of a moan when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling carefully.
“Am I not giving you what you need, honey? Is that it? Greedy girl just wants more, so she looks elsewhere to get it?”
“No,” you justify quickly. “You know that’s not true.”
“If you can still form sentences, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”
He slips a second finger in, curling them exactly the way he knows you like.
“Carm.”
“He couldn’t make you feel like this, babe. You and I both know it.”
You’re nodding, fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if you’re scared he’s going to walk away. His lips press into your neck again, nipping along the expanse of skin.
“Say it.”
“Hmm?”
You’re dazed, mind hazy with Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen.
“Say. It.”
He punctuates his words by curling his fingers harshly. You’re seeing stars, legs giving out.
“He - he… fuck, Carmen, please.”
“So close, honey. Try again.”
You know he won’t relent. He never does, when he’s in a mood. You have to just give him what he wants.
“He couldn’t make me feel this good, Carm. It’s all for you, only you.”
“Good girl. Knew you could do it.”
With that, he speeds up his fingers, his other arm snaking around your back to keep you standing upright.
“Give it to me, baby. Know you want to. That’s it, atta girl.”
“Come for me, there we go. Can feel you.”
“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. So pretty like this.”
You fall over the edge, clenching like a vice around his fingers as you throw your head back. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin, chest heaving with every breath you take. Your vision goes white for a second, gripping onto Carmy’s biceps for dear life.
You rest your forehead against his chest, panting as you try to recover.
“Jealous Carmen is kinda mean,” you mumble into his shirt.
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.
“You know I didn’t mean it, right? You’re free to date whoever you want. You could do a lot worse than Daniel the hot supermodel.”
You pull back, looking at him carefully.
“I know. I just… I don’t know if I’ll go. Seems a bit unfair to date him when my mind is on someone else.”
You both know exactly who you mean. You both also know that tipsy on a rooftop is not the place to have that conversation.
“Did you ever master the lavender crème brûlée?”
He chuckles, not expecting the sudden change in subject.
“Yes, I did.”
“Do we have any left?”
“We don’t. But I did make chocolate soufflé this afternoon, if that’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”
“Fuck, yes,” you grin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.
“I’ll make you a crème brûlée in work tomorrow. Promise.”
“Will you make two extras?”
He quirks a brow in confusion, so you continue.
“We’ve got two elderly neighbours. They’re not very mobile, so I said we’d drop stuff off every now and again.”
He smiles at you, all soft and melted.
“Of course. That heart of yours is too big for your chest, you know.”
You take hold of his hand, placing it there.
“Only sometimes.”
He kisses you again before throwing an arm over your shoulders.
“Let’s go eat chocolate soufflés and drink the rest of that wine you bought.”
“You’re a mind reader,” you laugh, making your way downstairs.
Maybe he is, you think later. You don’t mind in the slightest.
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cleo-fox · 1 year ago
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Close Quarters
Part 2 of 2
(Part 1)
Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.
Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.
A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.
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Mercifully, the hallway is empty.
You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.
It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.
“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.
“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”
“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.
“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”
He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”
You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.
Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.
“Let��s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”
Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”
“Good. Undress.”
He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”
You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.
He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.
You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.
And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.
You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.
You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.
You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.
When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.
Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.
“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.
In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.
You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.
And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.
You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.
The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.
“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.
“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.
“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.
“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.
“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”
Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.
The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.
“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”
He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.
“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”
You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”
His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”
You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”
“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.
“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.
His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”
Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”
You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.
The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”
You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.
His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.
“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego. 
“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”
“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”
Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.
“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.
“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.
“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”
There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”
He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.
And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.
“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”
You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.
“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.
“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.
“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.
“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”
“Good girl.”
His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.
You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.
He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.
“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”
Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.
“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.
“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”
The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.
He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”
You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.
He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to  have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”
Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.
He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”
This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”
You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.
“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”
This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.
“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”
Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.
“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”
Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.
Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.
You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.
His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”
You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.
“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”
You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”
You moan against his cock, sucking harder.
“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”
You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.
“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”
Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.
His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”
You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.
He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.
You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.
He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”
You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.
“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”
You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.
He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”
His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.
“I told you I need you,” you murmur.
He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.
“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”
He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.
“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.
You moan and nod.
He repeats the action. “And this?”
You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”
“Loki, please—”
“What is it darling?”
You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.
“Please don’t stop, please—”
“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”
“Loki, please—”
He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.
“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”
He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.
“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”
He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.
“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”
You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.
“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.
You nod, words somewhere beyond you.
“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”
You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.
“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”
You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.
“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”
You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.
From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”
You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.
“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”
Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.
“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.
Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.
“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.
“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”
You whimper. You are almost there.
“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”
It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.
“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.
You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.
It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.
You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.
You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.
“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”
If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.
“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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melancholyhigh · 1 year ago
Text
CRUSH CULTURE.
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ft. college au!leon x reader
synopsis. you fuck up at being leon’s wingman, ruining his chances of getting a valentine’s day fuck. he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on you.
tags. 2.8k words. smut. mean!leon, lowk angsty, reader is kinda pathetic, angry fuck, dry humping, cunnilingus, dom!leon, rough sex, unprotected p in v, degradation, name calling (bitch, whore etc.), happy ending (?).
note. i’m sorry for being so inactive and rarely being online. school sucks so bad. i hope you guys can accept this as a formal apology. (let’s ignore that this is 2 days late.)
masterlist. reblogs & comments are highly welcomed :3
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You aren’t the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day. You're sick of seeing everyone fall in love, watching lovers exchange cheesy gifts and bashful smiles. You’re sick of people pretending they love each other more than they actually do. No, you’re sick of being left out.
You were a hopeless romantic, chasing love only for it to fall flat. You were obsessed with finding your other half, the person who would cherish you as much as you treasured them. You didn’t know if you loved love or just the idea of it, but it wouldn’t matter.
You’re only hopeless as you help the man you liked hook up with someone at a shitty college party.
It’s pathetic, truly, chatting up some sorority girls and putting a good name out for Leon while he stood beside you. You didn’t get why he couldn’t do it himself. He was handsome, albeit a bit awkward, but so were you. It’s why you two got along anyway. Leon was watching as you tried to get the drunk girl’s attention on him. Throughout the night, your wingman skills had only failed. They either did not pay attention to you or paid too much attention to you.
You were sick of it. You would have preferred staying in your dorm room and rewatching one of your favourite rom-coms. But you were only a fool, trying to help your friend out. It hurt more being there with him as he lamely tried to pick up girls in front of you. You didn’t know what was more pathetic, his terrible jokes or the state you were, absolutely heartbroken that he wouldn’t give you the time of day he’d give to random girls.
Maybe it’s faith’s cruel way of commentating on your desire for love by making you play cupid for the only person you seem to care about more than yourself.
You and Leon had something special, or you had hoped so. You met in your first year of college. You were both fucking awkward that you had to initiate the first conversation. Majoring in similar subjects, you both had gotten along well. You would even say you were best friends, but you knew deep down you always wanted more.
Ever since you first met, you found him enthralling. It only got worse as you got closer. Learning more about him seemed to solidify your pining for him. You were the only person he talked to, and vice versa. You confided in each other, maybe more than what close friends should, so it was only inevitable that he would share with you that he wanted to lose his virginity.
You had looked at him perplexed. Leon was pretty attractive, and maybe you were biased, but how had no one fucked him? You’ve seen the way girls look at him, blushing when he even glances at them for a second.
That is when Leon told you he planned on trying to hook up with some girl at the party, and he wanted your help because he knew he would fuck up somehow. You had humoured him. Nothing more romantic than taking a random girl home on Valentine’s Day and fucking her brains out.
–-
“It’s not that serious, Leon,” you groaned for the umpteenth time. You were both walking back to his apartment after unsuccessfully trying to hook him up with some sorority girl. He was grumbling behind you, pissed and sexually frustrated.
“It was your fault.” You roll your eyes at his statement. When you reach the door of his flat, you observe as he clumsily takes his keys out, trying to open the door. He finally manages to open the door, and you enter, taking your shoes off before settling on his couch.
You watch him beyond amused at his predicament as he paces back and forth in front of you.
“Why did you have to mention that? They were so into me before you fucked it up,” he huffs, stilling his movement to glare at you.
“C’mon, Leon. I’m sure they couldn’t give a fuck that you’re a nerd,” you said, repeating the same word you had let slip when you were praising your beloved best friend. You peered back up at him, acting casual as if his icy gaze didn’t have your heart beating wildly against your chest. You rarely saw him angry, and when he was, he never directed it to you.
“You ruined my chances at finally getting laid. I don’t know how to talk to these girls. You’re the only person I have.” He’s frustrated with you for fucking up whatever chance he finally had at popping his cherry. Even though logically it’s not your fault nor your duty to get his dick wet, he didn’t want to take responsibility right now.
“I think you’re overreacting,” you sighed, standing up and moving towards him. You try to put a comforting hand on Leon’s shoulder, and he shrugs your touch off him. You don’t take it to heart. He’s a few inches taller than you, head slightly tilted as he looks down at you.
“Yeah? Well, now I have no one to fuck tonight.”
“I can change that,” you quip, and you instantly freeze at your own statement. You part your lips lightly in shock as you observe Leon’s reaction. It was a freudian slip, and it seemed to be happening more often than you’d like.
He continues looking down at you with furrowed brows as he tries to comprehend what you said. He thinks this might affect your friendship if you even mean what you said. He was horny, being teased all night by pretty girls in skimpy dresses, only to be denied, fucking furious too.
“Really?” He responds, somehow stepping closer to you. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you try to back up, only to be pushed against the wall by him. His stare is still cold, piercing through you. He’s still pissed at you.
“Are you still mad?” You mumbled, your back flat against the wall of his living room. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to say it. Maybe you found his mean side more attractive than you’d like to admit. It was so rare to see him like this — a usually composed man so broken.
“Yes, I’m still fucking angry. Do you want me or not?” He seethes. You squeeze your thighs together at the tone he uses. You were so pathetic, getting wet at him berating you, but any attention was good attention.
He notices your reaction, grinning to himself. “You backing down?”
You shake your head no in response.
“Beg for it then. Beg for me to fuck you. That’s what you want, right?” He says, mocking you. It’s as if he knows how deep your desire burns for him, how badly you’d do anything for him if it meant he noticed you. His hands grasp your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks together as he forces your head back against the wall so you look up at him.
“Please, Leon. Fuck me. ‘M all yours.” You plead through pursed lips. Your eyes are glossy, and he’s laughing at your desperate nature. He would have never expected his best friend to be a whiny mess within his grasp.
He lets go of your face before leaning down, capturing your lips into his for a needy kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, and a surprised gasp escapes you. Teeth clashing, you’re whimpering desperately against his lips as you entangle your fingers into his soft golden locks. His hands trail down to your hips, gripping them as he moves his body against yours.
You let out a soft moan, and he pulled apart from the passionate kiss. Both your lips are swollen and covered with your shared saliva. He continues to grope your body eagerly as he pushes you further into the wall. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear you.”
Biting your lip, you try not to let any moans slip free while he toys with your sensitive body through your clothes. He hooks one of your legs over his hip while he explores your body. He grinds his hardening cock against your crotch, and the action does little to quell the ache inside you.
Your back arches off the wall, your head tipping back as you try to buck your hips to his. Digging your nails into his shirt, he hisses slightly, but your movements don’t get past him.
“So fucking desperate,” he moans loudly.
He continues to rock his clothed erection against your cunt. The rough fabric of your pants provides enough friction through your damp underwear to your clit. Your hand clamps around your mouth shut, suppressing your whines as you near your climax.
Leon’s eyes close while he groans lowly at the pleasure coursing through him as he ruts against you. He wants so badly to feel your dripping cunt against his throbbing length. Just as you’re about to finish, he pulls away, panting, and the feeling in your core dissipates.
“I want to fuck you properly.” You’re unsure if he knew what he had just done, but with the smug look he’s giving you, you’re positive it’s on purpose.
You push yourself off the wall of his living room, and with trembling legs, you follow him to his bedroom. You were familiar with the area and used to the messy appearance while you two were either doing work or binging shows. But it’s different now, he’s going to fuck you dumb in it.
You both begin to rid yourself of your clothes once you’re inside. You’re fully nude, lying flat on Leon’s mattress, and your skin feels tacky with sweat as it clings to his soft sheets. Leon is only in his boxers, precum staining the fabric, as his strong palms spread your bent legs apart to admire your bare pussy.
You realise that this is most likely his first time seeing one other than in porn videos he jerks himself off to. He marvels at how wet you are, your folds glistening with your slick. Leaning down, he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you.
His tongue teases your entrance before slowly moving to your clit. He alternates between sucking on your sensitive nub and lapping at it slowly. He looks like he’s concentrated as he focuses on pleasing your cunt, his brows furrowed and his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs.
You can’t help the moans and sighs that slip past your lips while he eats you out. The pleasure is nearly dizzying as you grip the sheets. Your hips are bucking against his tongue, and Leon groans as you use his face. He’s not so subtly grinding against the sheets, his cock painfully hard as he fails to relieve the sensation.
Tentatively, he slurps at you, drinking in your essence. The wet, sloppy noises your cunt makes are embarrassing, but he’s obsessed with it and your taste. It’s addictive. He sucks at your clit roughly, adoring the reaction you give him. Your tummy clenches as he pays attention to your throbbing bud. Your sounds are getting more frequent as your orgasm quickly approaches you.
When you finally come undone, your thighs are quivering around his head as he revels in your release. He parts from your cunt, his lips coated in your cum like lip gloss as he licks them clean. Trying to collect yourself, your chest heaves as you pant heavily.
Leon slips his boxers down, revealing his hard-on. His cock was flushed red and dripping with precum as he stroked it. It was average in length but quite thick and prettier than you had imagined. But you shouldn’t act surprised.
You let out a whimper when he slid the tip of his cock through your folds stained with your cum and his saliva. Your pussy was overstimulated, spasming as he teased your entrance with his head.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he groans, gripping your hip to steady himself. The heat of your cunt was welcoming as it tried to suck him inside you. His tip touches your overly sensitive clit. He was quickly losing his composure, desperate to fuck you open.
You both moan simultaneously when he fully enters his length inside of you. Your walls were sucking his cock deeping into you, filling you up to the brim with nothing but him.
You had not imagined your first time with Leon like this. You daydreamed of him taking you out on a cute date before undressing you and then fucking you slowly on a bed littered with rose petals. You did not anticipate that he’d split you open on his cock as a last resort taking his sexual frustration out on you. You can’t complain with how good he’s fucking you, even if it’s out of spite.
He begins thrusting his cock in and out of tight pussy, groaning. You feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks the shape into you. You sometimes forget how well-built he is, usually concealed by his clothes, sweat dripping down his muscular frame.
“Your cock feels so fuckin’ good, Leon,” you gasped out loud, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you out of his fat cock.
“This was your plan, huh? You wanted me to fuck you, whore.” He says as he punctuates each word with a thrust.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock presses against you deliciously. You did want him all to yourself, but you wouldn’t go as far as to sabotage him. You’re unable to answer him, too drunk on his cock bullying into that one spot inside of you.
“Answer me, bitch.” He huffs, gripping your jaw and positioning your face to his. He looks into your eyes only to note how they can barely stay open. His hips stutter at your fucked out expression. He was so fucking close, his abs flexing, only holding out so you can cum first.
“Y- Yeah, Leon. Want to you all for myself,” you stammer incoherently, tears collecting at your waterline as he pounds into your oversensitive cunt. Your walls grip around his cock sporadically as you near your climax.
“You like me too, then?” he mocks through clenched teeth. Your pussy hugs him tightly, and he thinks he might never want to leave your warm embrace.
“I’m so close,” you cry out, your body squirming in his hold. Your peak was rapidly approaching as he continued his assault on your pussy.
“Answer the question then you can come,” he whines, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, leaving marks as he nears his peak.
“Mhm! Yes, I’ve always fucking liked you, Leon.” You cried out, eager to expose all your secrets to him if it meant you came. As you climax, your pussy milks Leon’s cock as it gushes around him.
“Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum,” Leon moans, his voice breathy as his orgasm crashes after yours. He doesn’t know if it’s the weight of your confession or the whimpers that escape your throat that send butterflies in him as he spills into you. He kisses you one last time, moaning into you as he rides his high.
Pulling out, he collapses right next to you. You’re both panting, covered in cum and sweat. A wave of exhaustion overcomes you, and you hope he doesn’t bring up what you said amidst fucking. You’re content pretending it didn’t happen if it meant you wouldn’t get to face your fears.
“Thank you for uh,” Leon trails off, and it's like a switch flipped. He’s bashful at mentioning that he had just lost his virginity as if he wasn’t calling you a whore a few minutes ago. Turning to his side, you come nearly face-to-face with him once again.
“Mhm, you’re welcome, I think.” You’re still unsure how you feel about the situation. Finally, you had fucked him, but what significance did it hold to him? Your eyes flutter shut, sleep finally overcoming your wrecked body. You expected the same would happen to Leon, but you were wrong. Leon was in deep thought.
Leon calls your name, cutting your sleep short. You snap your eyes open, sitting up, you await his question with your arms crossed. He looked uneasy, but you’re too drained to question why.
“Did you mean what you said? That you liked me.” His voice is quiet as he gazes at your form.
“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled in response. What was even the point of lying anymore? His cum was dripping between your thighs. What is the worst he can do? You think you can already guess his response. Guilt was eating at you. He wouldn’t be in this position if you did what he wanted. You added, “Sorry for fucking up your night.”
It’s quiet, and you’re nervously trying to gauge his reaction until he breaks the silence.
“I think I found someone better,” he responds. You laugh at the mere absurdity of the entire situation.
“It took fucking me to find that out?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
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