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hyuckmov · 1 year

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request #4 - himbo haechan

part 2! wc: 13.8k (yeah...) genre: fluff, smut (18+ minors dni), angst, himbo to fwb to lovers haechan warnings: mutual masturbation (kind of), sex over zoom call, softdom haechan and needy desperate haechan, mommy kink once, use of princess and angel and baby, fingering, unprotected fucking, overstim, haechan swears a lot, hair pulling, degradation/haechan likes pain and being humiliated, making love, nipple sucking, voice kink, thigh riding, haechan chokes and sucks on his own fingers, idk man a/n: i hope this is hot. i hope you feel this. i hope you like this. i don't know if this is my best work because i feel like the writing craft is so shoddy at times but idk... AS A PIONEERING HIMBO HAECHAN FIC, i hope this marks an important moment for the himbo haechan thinkers <3 thank you for waiting and thank you for supporting me. please let me know what you think and please be nice...

the first time you meet haechan, he doesn't exactly make a good impression.

"what are you doing?"

slowly, he lifts his head from where his lips were brushing your neck. "um…" blinking, his eyes refocus on yours. "trying to kiss you."

"haechan!" you hiss.

eyebrows raised, he beams back at you. "y/n!" he hisses back, imitating your tone.

"i came here with someone else." you push his shoulder lightly, trying to make space between him and you but it's no use — his body slumps even harder, and you can see his eyes scanning your neck, zoning out of the conversation.

"i know…" he mumbles, tracing a fingertip at your pulse point and making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

"you do?"

"yeah…" his other hand hovers in the air, as if he's deciding whether to grab your waist or press his palm to your lower back.

"so you know i'm talking to someone right now, and it would be bad if i went around kissing my project partners...?"

silence.

you dip your head slightly to try to look at him through his messy bangs, only to jolt slightly when you glimpse his expression. his eyes already half-lidded with lust, mouth hanging open and drool glistening on his plump lips. why did he look so…needy? fucked out? it had only been about a minute or so since you saw him walk towards you, the easy smile he kept on at full blast. you had exchanged small talk for about 10 seconds over your professor, and then he started nosing at the juncture between your jaw and your neck.

"haechan?" you prompted, hesitantly. "everything okay?"

"um...all's good," he mutters, before moving back towards you, lips puckered slightly and ready to mark your skin.

spluttering, you push him away, again, confusion starting to settle in for you too. could he not take a hint?

"were you even listening?" you ask, incredulously. "i said i'm talking to someone right now."

"uh huh." he tilts his head to the side. "um, did you say something after that? sorry-" he breathes, wincing at the frustration on your face. "you just smell so good, i couldn't pay attention…" and as if he couldn't help himself, you noticed his body gravitate towards you, again.

gripping onto his shoulder to keep him at a distance, you say slowly, "haechan, if i'm talking to someone, it wouldn't be good for me to mess around with other people."

you see the words register in his head, see the furrow in his brow deepen as he ponders what you're saying. "it wouldn't?"

"no, it wouldn't."

"but you're not dating him yet."

"no, i'm not." you see him open his mouth, so you quickly add, "but we're on our way, and i want to show him i'm serious about it."

"but i'm serious about you." it was practically lazy – the way he pulled your hand off his shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his.

you couldn't help the thrill that ran down your spine as you were reminded of how strong he was, even though he didn't necessarily look it.

"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you bite back.

"both."

you let out a scoff. unable to stop yourself, you blurt out, "are you used to women saying yes to you or something?"

"huh?"

"where do you get your confidence?"

he raises his eyebrows at you in genuine concern as if you're the confused one in this conversation. "where do you think?" he makes a vague gesture to indicate his pretty face, and you're a little annoyed at how right he is. with heavy eye makeup, mismatched contact lenses giving his look a more piercing quality, moles tracing across his cheek just begging to be suckled with kisses and those heart-shaped lips…you think you would be hard pressed to find a woman in this room who would say no to his shameless flirting.

"you shouldn't assume, haechan." something close to confidence begins to stir up in you, and you straighten, shaking your hand out of his. "it's not nice to kiss someone without asking them properly. you should always try to read the situation, and make sure you have consent."

listening intently like a student in a classroom, he nods slowly to show he understands. "not nice, got it. anything else?"

"don't try to steal people away from their dates," you add on, inspired.

"right."

"and don't say things like 'i'm serious about fucking you' if you don't really mean–"

"-this is hot." he interrupts, words blurring together in a rush. his eyes unfocused and dreamy, he drags his gaze up and down your body indulgently. "you teaching me things."

"hae-"

"teaching me how to be a good boy…" he breathes. "yeah. fuck."

your jaw drops, momentarily speechless. and yet, despite everything you were supposedly teaching him, his straightforwardness, the lack of filter, the raw desire that seemed to course through his entire body…you couldn't deny that it was making you feel a certain way too.

fixing him with a look that conveyed as much seriousness and frustration you could muster, you shake your head.

and he cowers.

"sorry…" he mumbles, stepping away from you, almost ashamed. "i should've kept that to myself."

you resist the urge to laugh. "yes, maybe you should have."

turning to go, you pat him on the arm lightly, feeling a little bad for him. "see you around in class, okay?"

he nods, eyes cast to the floor gloomily, and you're about to exit and head back to the main room when he calls your name.

"y/n?"

"yes?"

"i meant it."

"what?"

"i meant it when i said i was serious about fucking you." quietly, and with surprising gentleness, "i wouldn't lead you on like that. i wouldn't say it if i didn't mean it."

and as you turn your back on the pretty boy in the hallway, you couldn't help the butterflies that seemed to burst into life in your chest at his words.

the second time you meet haechan, you're explaining your assignment to him in class, and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.

the third time, he keeps up an endless stream of compliments for you as he walks you back to your apartment to get ready for your date (with heavy insinuations that he could treat you better, the entire time).

after that, you sort of lose count. from a name told to you by your professor, to the boy who couldn't seem to stand without your help at the party, he slipped into your life with no intention of leaving.

"i'm frustrated because i WANT to fuck you-"

no intention of leaving, no intention of changing, at all.

his words come out louder than you expect, ringing out in the silence of the library. he's practically raising his voice, the aggravation plain and clear as his words escalate in pitch. embarrassingly, people studying at the adjacent tables start to look over at you two, drawn by haechan's distinctive tone of voice, wondering what the campus resident himbo-heartthrob could be saying.

and he's still talking.

interrupting him with a loud shushing sound, you grab his arm and haul him out of his seat. he stumbles a little over his steps as he follows you obediently out of the library, the rant momentarily cut off.

the moment the two of you burst out of the library doors, he's seizing you by your arms, his expression eager and delighted.

"my place? i don't think my roommate's home, and there's this toy i want-"

"lee haechan." your jaw drops. you seem to be doing a lot of that when you're around him.

breathless, his eyes shine with delight. "yeah?"

you almost don't want to ask. "why do you think i dragged you out of the library?"

"you're ready to fuck right now?" his expression falls when he finally reads yours, taking in your stony glare and the hard set of your jaw. "oh. i did something wrong, didn't it?"

"haechan…" you can't decide what to start with.

"wait, i'm sorry-" he blurts out, letting go of you. "i shouldn't have grabbed you…"

"you shouldn't have raised your voice in a library!"

"i'm SORRY-" gulping, he tries to make his voice smaller. "i just got really excited…"

"when you are in small spaces, you use your 'inside voice', okay?"

"my…" he gulps. "inside voice?"

"your inside voice means a volume level only meant for you," you point. "and me, the person you are talking to." you point at yourself.

"why?"

"do you want the whole library to know you want to fuck me?"

"i don't mind." a beat. "wait, fuck- wrong answer. no, i don't." he shakes his head firmly. "no."

"exactly." you let out a breath. "so please, the next time you want to have this discussion, make sure you're not announcing it for the entire student population, okay?"

he opens his mouth, but then quickly shuts it. a blush beginning to spread across his cheeks, he buries his face in his hands, sweater covering his palms up to his fingers.

you sigh. "what is it, haechan?"

"i don't want to say," he whispers.

"why?"

"you'll get really angry at me." chastised, he bites his lip. and then, quieter, "i'm sorry i embarrassed you."

"welll…you didn't really embarrass me,” you mumble. "haechan…"

a muffled sound.

"am i actually just being really mean to you? you can be honest-" you add, seeing something flicker in his eyes as he removes his hands from his face. "i won't get mad."

"you're kind of mean…" he hesitates. "but i really like it. because i know it means you care about me."

your heart warms.

"and also because i find it really hot," he continues, unabashedly. "like…a part of me wants to push you until you freak out on me. but also the other part of me just wants to be good for you, you know?"

you stare at him. his hair falling lazily on his forehead, a breathless and windswept look to him as if his own desire was physically stealing his breath away from his lungs. you'd noticed before how his eyes were always watery with some sort of emotion, his long lashes gently tangling and untangling, meeting his blushy skin. his pouty lips… forming your name.

"fuck…i should have kept that to myself, right?" he tilts his head, blinking purposefully at you. "y/n?"

you clear your throat. "it's fine." another pause, as you wonder how you can draw the conversation back to something less intimate, because the way he's looking at you — as if he wants to dive into your soul just by looking into your eyes, — was making you regret ever dragging him out of the library. "um…" sex. talk about sex. "so…you were going to use a toy for our first time together?"

caught off guard, he gapes at you, trying to recall where he let slip his plans for the night. "i…" he blinks. "how did you know? did i tell you?"

he's adorable. pressing on, you try to bring back the tone of defiance in your voice. "couldn't make me cum all by yourself? are you really that unconfident?"

from the way he's tonguing the inside of his cheek, you know you've successfully switched the tone. "princess…" his voice is slow and patronising. "don't talk about things you don't understand." you don't think you've ever heard him speak like that, cockiness dripping from every syllable. is this the haechan that everyone else knew?

"i don't-"

"i saw the way you were looking at me just now…" eyes fluttering, he slouches closer to you and you back away on instinct. the movement makes him smile. "you think i'm pretty, just like everyone else does, hm?"

it takes everything in you to roll your eyes, stepping further away from him as if it would break the spell. "you're so full of yourself."

"and you like it." at the look on your face, he backpedals instantly, the confidence draining from him in an instant as he adjusts his bag on his shoulders. "right…sorry. you're still seeing someone." he doesn't even try to hide the bitterness in his tone.

a moment passes.

"let's just… go get dinner," you suggest, lightly. he nods distractedly, hooking a hand around your bag strap and lazily tugging it onto his shoulder, something he likes to do for you.

the walk to the restaurant is only a few minutes, and it's only when you reach that he speaks up again.

"y/n?"

"yeah?"

"he….he makes you happy, right?"

"huh?"

"the guy you're seeing." he swallows, fingers curling tighter around your bag unconsciously. "you're happy with him, right?"

biting your lip, you nod slowly. "i guess."

if he can sense your hesitance, he doesn't press — body relaxing considerably as he nods to himself too. "then that's all that matters."

and he reaches over to hold the door open for you, face bright and happy again as he patiently waits for you to enter first.

haechan, 11.00pm: i hope you got a kiss today you, 11.00pm: what haechan, 11.01pm: idk you just looked really pretty today and i really wanted to kiss you you, 11.01pm: so that's why you were looking at me like that haechan, 11.01pm: yeah but i can't kiss you so haechan, 11.01pm: i hope you got a kiss somehow…

haechan, 11.12pm: so did you? you, 11.12pm: did i what? haechan, 11.12pm: did you get a kiss haechan, 11.12pm: WAIT haechan, 11.12pm: don't tell me haechan, 11.12pm: i'll get sad you, 11.12pm: okay haechan, 11.12pm: okay what? you, 11.13pm: okay, i won't tell you haechan, 11.13pm: fuck haechan, 11.13pm: i want you so bad… you, 11.13pm: HAECHAN haechan, 11.13pm: TYPO sorry sorry you, 11.13pm: you can't typo a whole phrase haechan, 11.13pm: yes you can… i just did…

for someone who doesn't always know what he's talking about, haechan loves to talk. a lot.

"you're going to sleep? already?" even in the low quality image on your phone screen, you can see the crestfallen look on his face.

"we both have an early class tomorrow."

"we can take turns sleeping in that class…like we did last week…"

accusatorily, you jab a finger at your phone camera, causing his nose to scrunch in alarm as if you were really there, backing away from his screen. "you slept for a whole two hours that time!"

"i-" sulking, he rolls over on his side, face half smushed against the bed. "i'll do better this time."

"we can always talk tomorrow," you soothe, getting comfortable in your own bed and holding up your phone a little higher so the angle didn't look so bad on videocall.

although it was ridiculous, you couldn't help but feel insecure at how pretty he looked all the time, even when it was 2 in the morning and his voice was low and scratchy, or when he just woke up and his hair stuck out in all sorts of ways…his eyes never stopped sparkling in the terribly endearing way, his skin looking soft under the warm lights of his room.

"but i want to talk to you now…" he says, softly.

"okay…what about?"

"i don't know…" still in the same soft voice that drives you crazy, he blinks tiredly at his screen. "anything…i guess…"

"um…what did you have for dinner?"

you can't help but let out a laugh when he whines loudly in annoyance "i mean deep stuff. stuff you wouldn't tell anyone else."

"you think of something then!"

"wait-" a look passes over his face, you can literally see the idea hitting him, the flickering of a lightbulb over his head: he sits up, animated, and starts pulling his laptop onto his lap. "give me a second." he's typing furiously on his keyboard, nose scrunched in concentration.

"you don't even type this seriously in class," you accuse, half-heartedly. when he doesn't respond, you raise your voice a little. "haechan? what are you doing?"

"nothing." he turns his attention back to the phone screen, and beams at you with a brightness that catches you off guard. "just had an assignment that i forgot to submit."

"um…okay…"

"but i have my ideas for the questions now-" he continues, his words coming out rushed from the blatant excitement in his tone. "so let's start."

"why are you so…eager?" suspicious, you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "are the questions sex-related? you perv…"

"no," he shakes his head vehemently, "i swear, they're not. i just…" and suddenly he's shy, biting at his puffy lips, and even in the dim glow of the room you can see the flush in his cheeks. "i just want to get to know you more…"

"okay…"

"okay, let's start." he clears his throat.

"given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?"

"what the fuck?" you gape at him. out of all the things he could have asked you, there was no way you would have thought of this. "haechan, are you trying to get me to do some assignment for you?"

"i'm genuinely curious-" he tries to defend himself, a hint of a whine making its way into his voice. "i mean, i can go first if you need more time to think…"

"i don't think i've ever heard you use the word 'whom'."

"now that's just mean…" pouting, his eyes go round and sad, and you can't tell if he's doing it on purpose, but when he nibbles on your lips you feel your breath catch in your throat.

fuck. stumbling over your words, you rush, "uh…i can answer i guess."

his eyes crinkle into a smile. "okay, who?"

"um…probably that researcher guy who we're doing our assignment on. then i can just ask him all the questions and cite him as the source and we would be done."

"that's a good answer," he says, encouragingly.

"okay…so who would you want as a dinner guest?"

"you," he says, immediately.

"haechan, this isn't going to be fun if your questions are all set up as lines…"

"i'm serious…" and he is – there's no hint of any rehearsed expression on his face. "i only ever want to see you." and then, smiling, he shifts around happily on his seat on the bed. "okay! next question…"

"what would constitute a perfect day for you?"

"how many questions do you have?"

"i don't know… i'm making these up as i go along," he shrugs. "so, what would constitute a perfect day for you?"

you think about it, for a second. "i think my perfect day would be really simple, and everything would just go right. i would wake up early, there wouldn't be a queue at the cafe for breakfast, i get to class with my coffee-"

"which class?"

"uh… our class?"

"okay, good," a small smile playing on his lips. "and then?"

"and then…i can answer all your questions in class, and afterwards we go to the library and miraculously we can get something done…" you think back to a few evenings you've had where you've genuinely, really, been happy. "we get hotpot for dinner and we get a huge discount, and i go back home and fall asleep really easily."

haechan is smiling so hard you want to ask him if his cheeks hurt.

"what's so funny?"

"it's funny…" he looks at you coyly. "that's my perfect day too."

"number 10…"

"motherfucker-" you sit up, startling haechan, who drops his phone.

"wha-"

"you have a list of questions?" you wait for him to pick up his phone again before you point at the screen, savagely. you don't even have to look to know he's doing his cower again. "what happened to coming up with it as you go along? are these even your questions?"

"y/n…" he shuffles around uncomfortably, picking at his bedspread.

"how many questions are there in total?"

"36." his eyes widening, he backpedals. "actually, i don't know…um…it depends…"

"i'm going to bed."

"no we have to finish all 36 questions!"

"we have to? why do we have to?"

"please?" he looks up at you, and you should be used to it by now, used to the shifts in tone and the intensity of his emotions when his eyes meet yours, but still it makes your heart hammer a little harder every time. "please? i really just want to get to know you…"

a pause.

sighing, you lie back on your pillows again. "what's number 10?"

"what roles do love and affection play in your life?" haechan lets out a yawn, rubbing his face against his comforter.

the question wakes you up a little. you've kind of guessed that he was using a list of questions that would get increasingly intimate as they went on, but this one felt more direct than the others. and although so far you've been honest about everything, careless sometimes with your answer but never dishonest, you don't know how truthfully you should answer this time.

haechan blinks lazily at the screen. "um…" he rubs at his eyes, "i can go first. i think…love and affection are easy."

the words feel like a punch to your gut. "really?"

"yeah," he continues. "i mean, i'm affectionate with practically everyone i meet…and i'm not scared if i end up falling in love. i don't always know it when i'm in the moment…but i think i like how it feels," he adds, almost as an afterthought.

"you like how what feels?"

"being in love," he says, softly, looking at you with gentleness in his eyes.

"but what if it doesn't end well?" you ask more for yourself than for him, and he answers as if it's the easiest thing in the world.

"then it ends. but at least you were in love." tilting his head, he asks, "is it…not easy for you?"

you can't find the words, so you shake your head.

his brow furrows. "aren't you seeing someone right now?"

"yeah but i don't love him." he opens his mouth, so you add on quickly, "and he doesn't love me."

"then you shouldn't be with him," he said, firmly. things were always so simple when he outlined them. "you don't love each other, so you shouldn't waste your time together."

"but he's not a bad person…" you have no idea why you're defending someone you don't even really care about. "he's generally nice to me…"

"none of that matters if there's no love," he runs a hand through his hair, and that's when you realise that he's genuinely angry. "i didn't know you didn't love him. if i did, i would have talked to you about it ages ago…"

"it's not so easy, haechan. it's not so easy to find someone who loves you back. sometimes, you just have to be grateful that someone is willing to spend time with you, grateful that they're not horrible-"

he cuts you off with a frustrated sound. "i don't understand." rubbing his face with his hands, you hear him exhale shakily, the sound crackling in your earphones.

"it's okay," you try to calm him, making your tone as light as possible. "these are just questions, right? we don't have to agree…"

he settles down, but you can tell he's still lost in thought, his jaw clenched. "i guess."

"which question are we on?"

he checks his laptop screen. "21."

"do you…want to keep going?"

he nods, sighing one more time before focusing on you again. this time, you can tell he's managed to calm down, the gentleness returned to his demeanour. "i'm sorry. i'm really trying to understand what you mean, but maybe we're just different."

"yeah…" affection and love did feel easy, even being friends with haechan. you think it's maybe become a part of your life that you couldn't live without — the little ways he took care of you, how he never hesitated to compliment you or defend you. "i want to be more like you, though."

"huh?"

"the thing about love and affection…" you mumble. "i want it to be as easy as it is for you." his eyes light up, and you hate how it immediately seems to lift a weight from your chest.

it's strange that haechan's the one you turn to when things eventually fall apart. but at the same time, it makes perfect sense, because he's never once made you feel small for what you thought, or invalidated anything you've felt.

you didn't even have to tell him. you had stumbled into class, numb from all your hurt, and the moment haechan raised his head to look at you, he just knew.

"what's wrong?" he mouths, a look of pure fear in his eyes as he scans your surroundings, trying to figure out what could've done this to you.

"i'll tell you later," you're barely able to whisper back as you slide into your seat next to him, eyes already filling with tears at how easy it was for haechan to read you. your heart warming from the urgency in his tone.

without hesitation, he leans over far in his seat to squeeze you into a hug. his lips ghosting over the crown of your hair, you can hear the worry in his voice even as he tries to reassure you.

for the next 2 hours, he casts worried glances over at you, taking in the way you're barely listening, fingers ghosting over your keyboard and typing nothing. the lecture barely ends before he's reaching over to pack up for you, clumsy hands shuffling your papers into your folder the way he knows you like them, shouldering your backpack as he tugs you gently towards the door and out into the sun.

he leads you to a quiet place on campus, and if you were a little less focused on yourself, you'd wonder if this was where he usually took his dates to kiss them. it's secluded and private, soft grass underneath your shoes as he guides you to a bench under a tree, sliding into a seat next to you and taking your hand in his immediately.

on one of your study sessions together, the two of you had taken a love language quiz, and it was no surprise when his top love language showed up as physical touch, while yours showed up as words of affirmation.

tears are slipping down your cheeks, and he pulls you into his arms — a gesture more for him than you but you melt into his touch all the same. his palms clumsily pat between your shoulder blades, his touch heavy as he strokes down your spine, rubbing at your shoulders as you try to stop from shaking.

"do you want to talk about it?" he murmurs, eyes wide and concerned.

briefly, you consider not telling him, the thought of having to materialise everything with your words too painful to bear. but his voice was so gentle, his touch so soothing, that you feel he at least deserved to know why you were crying in his arms like this.

"h-he took me to the party to make her jealous."

his movements still.

"i knew we didn't love each other…but i thought…i thought at least…he must've liked something in me, right?"

he's at a loss for words as you cry harder into his shirt.

"you don't have to say anything…" you reassure him. "i know it's stupid. i didn't even like him anyway, it just hurts my pride to think he never saw anything in me."

"it's not stupid," he says, firmly. "you rejected me at that party for him, right? you've been rejecting me for weeks because of him."

you nod into his chest.

"you're not stupid." he declares. "he's the one who's wrong." and there it is again — the simplicity, the way everything was black and white with him. he was completely and wholly on your side, his hand diligently going back to stroke your hair, dipping his fingers to rub circles into the nape of your neck.

"i'm surprised you're not being inappropriate right now."

he doesn't respond at first, but his movements falter again.

"i just really don't like seeing you hurt," he says, quietly.

"oh."

"wait, don't get me wrong, i think you look very pretty when you cry," he adds, sincerely. it makes you laugh, a little bit of the haechan you first met coming back. but he mistakes it for disbelief, tripping over his words to make you understand, raising his voice. "you really are, and you sound so pretty too-"

wrapping your arms around his middle, you lean into his touch, smiling into the fabric of his shirt. "thanks, haechan."

"it's just that…i don't like thinking that someone made you feel like this. it makes me feel…" his palm moves down to hold the side of your face delicately, fingers moving over your cheeks as he chooses his words. "it makes me feel really helpless. it reminds me i can't stop people from hurting you."

his voice is small, and you can barely catch his words, but you feel like you've been slammed in the chest. you hesitate, wondering if you should press him further.

"why?"

"what do you mean?"

"why does it make you feel helpless?"

he huffs, frustrated. "because it does."

he runs a hand through his hair as he rambles on. "i don't know why i don't like seeing you hurt. or why i don't like the idea of your shoulders being sore like mine are so i carry your things around for you everywhere. i don't know why i want to mark your neck but i don't ever want to see you bruised, or how i want to fuck you so badly, but also sometimes i get this feeling like… like i don't want to fuck you, i just –" he cuts himself off with a groan, tugging at his long hair desperately.

you don't reply. you can't trust your voice.

so you ease yourself out of his hold, which had gotten increasingly tight. with a hand, you guide his hands down from his hair and into yours, and bring your other palm up to touch his face. he goes limp at your touch, leaning into you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.

"why am i telling you this?" he whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

"haechan-"

"you must think i'm pathetic." you feel his tears on your hand, hot and wet, before his breathing starts to pick up and soft whimpers rise from his throat.

"don't say that."

"i mean you," he gasps, words coming out in stuttered sounds. "y-you were the one who needed me to c-comfort you, and n-now i'm the one crying, and i…" he lets out a low sound, emotions overwhelming him all at once. "i really want to hurt the guy who made you feel like that."

"haechan…"

"where does he live? it'll only take 5 minutes i swear…" he swallows, hard. "i could take him in a fight, i saw him at the party…"

"you're not going to get reported to campus police for him. he's not worth it." but you can tell your words are getting lost on him, his hands shaking as he fumbles them out of your grip, trying to intertwine your fingers.

"i just need to do s-something right now," he breathes, hard. "anything. it hurts so bad, y/n. why does it hurt so much for me?"

something about this — about him, calms you. the pain from before fading into a dull ache, and a new feeling swelling in your chest as you look at the boy in front of you. the feeling of being needed by someone grounding you, affection roaring in your ears as he leans into your touch, watching you like he was trying to decipher the thoughts buzzing like static in your mind.

"take me home, haechan."

he blinks up at you.

"i want to go home," you whisper.

and, drawing you into his arms, he does exactly that.

he picks up your favourite ice cream on the drive home, and stays glued to your back on the elevator ride up. coddling you and cooing praises in your ear, tucking you into bed and drawing up a chair next to you as if you were ill. you ignore the fact that this was the first time you were indulging in his touch and it felt so right, the fact that he cried just because you did, for reasons he claimed not to know and you didn't want to admit.

but as you watched him move around in your kitchen, putting away dishes from the dinner he made you — his broad frame stretching out his shirt, shoulder blades sharp under the warm light, you were met with the sinking feeling that the boy who was just out to fuck you might be out for something far worse.

"i'm not setting you up with him," haechan's words come out in a blur. "okay? we're just walking to the party together."

"yes, i'm aware of that. how many more times are you going to repeat this to me?"

"haechan, why are you still hiding me behind your back?"

"this is NOT a set-up!" he hisses, veins in his arms popping out as he keeps a firm grip on his friend, you presume, keeping him out of your sight. "i do NOT want you to like him, okay?"

"okay haechan, i get it."

he looks at you, suspicious, but finally releases his hold, arms crossing over his chest instead as he scowls. "fine. y/n, this is my friend renjun."

looking a little dishevelled, and very annoyed, renjun steps out from behind haechan. "hey." his face breaks into a sweet smile when he sees you, eyes brightening with recognition. "wait…were you in that statistics course from last semester?"

"yeah i was! were you the one who did the project on social psychology? i thought it was so smart…"

"i had a lot of help with it," he beams back. "actually, i have more resources on the topic if you'd like them."

"SHE DOESN'T WANT TO FUCK YOU."

haechan's voice abruptly booms out in the middle of the street, making you and renjun jump. the handful of people passing by turn their heads to look at your trio, making shame burn low in your stomach as you wince apologetically. haechan's face is flushed, hands curled into fists by his side, a glare fixed upon renjun as if he were his worst enemy.

"haechan!" you whisper, annoyed. "did we not practice using our inside voice?"

"fuck the inner voice!" he hisses back at you with equal venom, tugging you closer to him and away from renjun. his face screwed up, he jabs a finger at him. "she's not gonna fuck you dude. lay off her."

renjun is looking back and forth between you and haechan, a knowing look settling onto his face as he meets haechan's frown with an easy smile.

"don't worry about it, man. she's all yours."

"yeah, that's right, she's mine," haechan repeats, savagely, before the words coming out of his mouth seem to take him by surprise. confused, he looks over at you, trying to figure out what exactly he just said. "wait…fuck i mean…um…"

"you know what? i'm going to go ahead first," renjun interrupts, giving you a small wave. "see you at jaemin's."

"YEAH, GO AWAY RENJUN."

"sorry," you mumble, now trying to free yourself from haechan's tight grip on your arm which he doesn't even seem to be aware of.

"word of advice," renjun mutters to you, pointedly ignoring the way haechan was hissing at him. "pull on his hair. it shuts him up real fast."

it's when you finally manage to pry his fingers off of you when haechan is brought back down to earth, throwing a venomous look at renjun's retreating back as he lets go of you reluctantly.

you round on him. "well?"

"w-well what?" he mumbles, looking away, acting out a textbook portrayal of guilty.

you narrow your eyes at him, and some part of you is happy to see him gulp in fear like he usually does. "what do you have to say for yourself?"

"i'm not the problem here," he mutters. "it's renjun. he's such a sleaze."

"renjun? a sleaze?" you laugh before you can stop yourself. "you're more of a sleaze than he is on a regular day."

"ME?" he bursts out, head snapping to you. at least this time, the people in your vicinity seem to be used to the outbursts, and they don't bother to turn to look. "I'M NOT…that's not…" and then he's whipping out his phone, biting his lip in concentration, eyebrows drawn close together as he scrolls through whatever's he's looking at.

you sigh. "haechan, what are you doing?"

"immoral…corrupt…sordid…" he raises his voice again. "fuck google definitions. why is it that none of these words mean what i think sleaze means?"

"could you not change the subject?" you start, but he talks over you.

"yeah," he emphasises, viciously. "you're right. see, i just wanted to expand your social circle, it's not my fault renjun was making eyes at you,"

"he wasn't-"

"he was about to invite you over,"

"did you hallucinate-"

"that's so…so insensitive, like couldn't he just take a hint? and you were wearing your fuck-me skirt today-"

"i do NOT have a fuck-me skirt-"

"no it's a fuck haechan skirt that's what it is, because whenever i see you in it i-"

"will you shut up?" annoyed, you reach around to the back of his neck, and tug harshly on his long hair, really hoping to make it hurt.

you expect him to stop talking, maybe cry out in pain.

you're not expecting his knees go weak as he lets out an achy, high-pitched moan that shudders through his entire body.

"hey, haechan's quiet today!" jaemin points out, cheerfully. "y/n, could you pass me the pepper?"

putting on a smile, you pass the shaker over to him. "we had an argument on the way here, that's probably why."

"you two should fight more," jaemin says, before taking a sip of his soup. "dinner's almost over and he's barely made a sound."

renjun just smiles to himself.

"what. the fuck."

haechan's still gasping for breath, and when you raise your hand absentmindedly, his arms shoot up quickly to protect his head. "don't-!"

"i'm not going to do it again."

"okay good." his arms fall to his side, before he's looking at you with a mixture of sadness and wistfulness. "wait…like…never?"

you narrow your eyes.

"y/n, can you come with me please?" haechan is looking at you urgently, leg bouncing as he tugs on your sleeve. "i want to talk to you in private."

sighing, you excuse yourself from the table, letting haechan tug you away from the living room and into what looks like an empty guest room.

clicking the door shut, he sits down on the bed, patting the space next to him impatiently to get you to join him.

"what's wrong?"

"i want to ask you something." there's a sincerity in the way he reaches takes your hand, his voice steady, and calm, and sure.

"okay…"

"i've been good this past week, right?" he watches your face closely, looking for an answer. "like…i wanted to show you i care, and i wanted to take care of you and help you forget…your breakup…"

"you've been really good to me, haechan," you affirm quietly. because he has.

"and i've kept my thoughts to myself," he adds. "because…you told me to do that…"

"yeah."

"do you…" he struggles with the words. "do you want me to keep…keeping my thoughts to myself? like, does it make you really uncomfortable…" he looks like he's in physical pain, brows furrowed in concentration.

"no, it doesn't…" you admit, feeling a little exposed.

"what about…so if…" he twists at his fingers. "so if i…made a move…like the first time we met at the party…would you…?"

"i think i would." looking away, feeling that the room was suddenly burning hot, you mumble out, "so you don't have to worry about holding back or-"

"-good, because i've been hard ever since you pulled on my hair."

he's getting that look again, lips parted and swollen. he slides a hand around your waist, the weight of his body leaning on yours feeling all too familiar. only this time, there was no one and nothing you could put between yourself and the raw need that was in every fibre of his being. always brutally honest about how much he wanted you, looking at you with eyes that could swallow you whole. and now that there was no one else, you were free falling right into him.

your voice is scratchy with nerves. "do you want me to do it again?"

"to be very honest, it kind of kills the mood when you ask," he mumbles, now pressing the pads of his fingers under your shirt and into your soft skin.

laughing, you slide your hands up his neck and into his hair again, relishing in the way his body tenses and his breaths start to come shallow and fast. curling your fingers around the strands, you pull on them softly, increasing in pressure as he throws his head back.

"fuck," he pants, hands moving quickly now, tugging at the hem of your shirt. "wanted this since the day i saw you."

well at least he's honest. hesitating slightly, you grasp his wrists gently to stop his movements. "haechan…you know this is me giving you permission right?"

"huh?" his eyes cloudy, he struggles slightly against you, hands still trying to reach for your skin. "i mean…yeah…"

"so after this, we'll figure something out?" you look at him hopefully, trying to meet his eyes which were currently darting around, scanning your body haphazardly. until you let out a gasp, because somehow he's overpowered you — pushing you onto the bed roughly, his hands now gripping your wrists and holding them above your head with one hand, the other resting heavy on your hip.

"you talk too much," he says, lowly. swiftly pressing his lips to the side of your neck, he bites down on your shoulder next, and you hiss at the sting. in retaliation, you manage to release one of your hands from his grip, giving his hair a sharp tug — making him rut his hips into yours.

"me? what about you?" you tease, breathless as he grinds into you, "with all your talk…all your thoughts, i kind of expected more…but you're whining and we've barely touched."

at that, he stills.

he still has you pinned down by his weight on your torso, and above you, you can see the way his eyes darken, wheels in his head turning.

"you're right," he says, quietly. releasing your hands, he crawls off of you to kneel on the bed by your feet, rough hands pulling at his belt.

"r-right…about what?" now he wasn't lying on you, you felt a coldness travel through your body, making you crave his touch. sitting up to look at him, you swallow as he kicks off his pants.

he wasn't lying about being hard. his cock looked thick and heavy in his palm as he squeezed his shaft, letting out a sigh.

"haechan, what are you doing…?"

spitting in his hand, he starts tugging at his cock, slow and teasing strokes as he shifts his hips around in pleasure, settling his weight back on his heels as he hums.

you place your hands on his thighs, shifting towards him, but with a speed and agility you rarely saw he grabbed both your wrists in his free hand, holding on to them tightly so you couldn't shake free. "you don't get to touch," he gasps, another moan ripping from his throat as his fingers press into his slit.

"haechan," alarmed, you try to crawl over to him but his grip on your wrists holds you at a distance, pushing you back. the sounds he's making go straight to your core, high-pitched moans, drawn out and achy, gulping gasps of air between each one as if he was struggling to breathe. his hand speeding up, moving like a blur, swivelling his wrist and thumbing at a spot just below the blunt pink tip. precum dribbling out all over his hand as he starts to thrust his hips into the circle of his fist.

"please," you rub your thighs together, pain and pressure building up in your core. his eyes, half-lidded and sultry, slide over to you almost lazily.

"wait your turn, princess," he groans, mocking you with a whiny "ah…ah-" at the end.

you're so frustrated you could cry.

his whines and whimpers escalate in pitch, broken gasps and pants filling the air, and you can't wait for him to cum so it'll be your turn…

except suddenly he's letting go of his cock, a groan rumbling through his chest as it slaps up against his lower belly.

a beat.

"did you like the show?"

"you didn't cum," you mumble, dumbly.

"i didn't think you deserved to see that yet." he releases your wrists. "see, that was your punishment."

"for?"

"for rejecting me for over a month even though i knew you wanted it." effortlessly pulling you into his lap, he smiles as he guides a hand under your skirt, rubbing your inner thigh with his sticky fingers. "sometimes when you look at me…i just know you're dripping wet in your panties."

"i'm not-"

"should we check?" he pulls at the seat of your panties, swiping his fingers on your folds. your thighs clamp shut on his hands, sensitive, and he laughs. "thought so."

he traces light touches on your clit, alternating between rubbing circles and stroking gently. he brushes his fingers over your entrance and you crumble, grinding into his hand as you try to manoeuvre your hips closer to where his cock lies against his tummy.

"so cute," he murmurs, pushing a careful finger into you, smiling to himself when you let out a soft moan. stroking against your walls, he adds another, starting to stretch you out as you rock your hips into his. his nose nuzzles at your neck, and you discover that all those times he's spent analysing the juncture between your jaw and your shoulder have paid off, because he finds your sweet spot in record time, his puffy lips mumbling against your skin and making you shake all over.

"you're going to have to be a little quieter, baby," he says, gently. "don't want them hearing you outside." he adds another finger, humming delightedly at how you suck them in.

"you-" you gasp, "but you were so, fuck, loud just now…"

"i don't care if they hear me." he starts fucking his fingers into you, thrusting them in and out of your core with loud wet sounds, his thumb applying pressure to your clit that makes your thighs tremble. "i know i sound good. you should record me next time, baby."

your brain has gone foggy. this is the haechan that still pushed at the pull door to your lecture hall, the one you've been going to for almost half a year. this is the haechan who hid behind his hands when you would get mad at him, then would beg for you to keep going, i'm memorising this for later.

this was the haechan…who was currently moaning softly in your ear, a sound so saturated with lust that it takes your breath away, and makes you release all over his hand.

as it turns out, haechan isn't really into edging unless he wants to make a point.

he's far more interested in overstimulation, as he makes you cum 3 times on the guest room bed. and he cums twice himself from fucking you.

with intense concentration, he cleans up for you and tucks you into bed, worried eyes making sure you're okay. when he watches the way you walk, unsteadily, to turn off the light, he slides to his knees and freckles kisses all over your thighs and hips, murmuring apologies into your skin, torn between gloating and grovelling.

"jaemin's okay with us staying," he whispers into the dark. and then, with unfiltered dreamy happiness… "i'm so happy i'm going to wake up next to you tomorrow."

your heart melts and dissolves as you reach for him, nuzzling into his chest. it's because you're so close that you hear the rumble of his sigh through his chest. "haechan?"

"hm?"

"i don't want to confuse you…"

pause. and then, quietly, "you always say that before you confuse me."

you sit up, his arms falling to your waist.

"haechan…"

"you look like an angel," he looks at you through his lashes, doll-like features pretty in the moonlight. when he realises he's caught you off guard, he continues, his drowsy, honeyed voice low and soothing, hypnotic as he appeals to you. "go to sleep, angel. i'll fuck you awake in the morning, i promise…"

"don't try to seduce me, haechan. i want to talk about this."

"worth a shot," he mumbles. "look, i don't know if you think i'm joking when i tell you i want you," his eyes flicker to the sheets as he tries to outline his thoughts. "but i already promised since day 1 that i wasn't leading you on." he sighs when you still look unconvinced.

"tell me what you're thinking, angel." he reaches for your hand, and presses a small kiss on your palm, guiding your fingers to cup his face. "give me a hint."

"question 21," you remind him.

love and affection. understanding blooms on his face.

"what about it?"

"i'm scared," you confess.

"what are you scared of, angel?" he tilts his face to the side but his eyes never leave yours. "you want me, and i…and i…" he sits up a little so he can pull you down to him. you think you kissed him just now, but this one feels like the first time — his mouth moving gently on yours, suckling on your lip, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth, and the light sigh he lets out like he just tasted something sweet. he kisses you like he's just realised he has all the time in the world to, with no urgency, only the sweet indulgence of a boy who finally has what he wants right in his arms.

"don't be scared," he whispers into your mouth when you break apart. "i'm serious about you."

"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you ask, timidly.

haechan looks up at you, the angel in his bed, and takes in the tension in your shoulders, the way you're holding your breath.

if haechan was bad at homework, bad at assignments and impressing his professors, bad at reading the room and keeping his voice under control, there were things he was good at from experience.

like how to tilt his face to showcase the pretty moles on his skin, how to pitch his voice like it was straight out of a filthy dream, and how to read people's body language to know what they wanted. how to read you.

"serious about whatever you're ready for," he says, gently. "affection, or love."

a moment passes. then another. then another.

"haechan?"

"yes?"

"were you serious about fucking me awake tomorrow morning?"

"haechan, this is really, really bad."

"i know." he exhales shakily, the sound amplified through your laptop speakers. "fuck, shit, i know."

leaning forward to look at your laptop screen, you swipe back to the open tab you have of the document for your project. "how did you delete everything? and why can't it be restored?"

"i don't-" a muffled choking sound. "i don't know."

"i don't even want to tell you to stop crying," you say bitterly. "cry harder. it won't fix this."

a strangled sound, barely audible over the music playing on his end.

you swipe back to your zoom call with haechan. ever since you started giving in to haechan's relentless begging, it's been a lot harder for both of you to focus on your assignment.

specifically, the number of times he's fingered you in the library or fucked you on his lap in his desk chair were now too many to count.

so you've resorted to meeting up over video-call, using your laptops to provide a greater sense of occasion and to make it clear that these were meetings to do work. so far, they've been working out fine, but today he joined the call with his camera turned off, and only a guilty, shaking, voice told you to check the google drive, and please don't be mad.

"so?" you don't bother to hide your anger, or to coddle him like you usually would. "are you going to fix this?"

"dunno…" he gasps, whimpering when you roll your eyes. "dunno…fuck…dunno how…"

you tilt your webcam so you can really look into it, hoping that it's making him feel worse. judging by the wail he lets out, it does.

"turn on your camera so i can see you," you snap. "and turn off the music. i want to hear you cry."

a muffled, guttural, sound.

"really?" he sniffles, a loud sob crackling like static out of your speakers. "you w-want to…t-to see me…c-cry?"

"don't play mind games with me, lee haechan," you warn. "i'm really fucking mad at you."

"y-yeah?" he gulps, and you can hear it.

"i'm so mad i could hit you right now." and you hear a sound of pain, a strangled cry ripping from his throat.

"i wannit," he groans. "want you to hit me."

"forgot you were a masochist," you grumble, sarcastically. "how are you still in the mood to make jokes like that when we're going to fail?"

he's panting, and a part of you starts to worry. is he hyperventilating? "i dunno, i'm sorry-" he gasps, voice raising in pitch.

"haechan?" the anger hasn't completely faded from your voice. you're met with a hiccup, cut off by a wracking sob. switching tact, you make your voice go gentle, babying him the way you usually do to get him to do anything right. "turn off the music and turn on the camera for me."

he's still breathing heavily as you hear the sounds of fumbling, his phone falling to the floor as it disconnects from his speaker. silence fills the call, a tension so thick in the air as he pants into his microphone, and you hear his hands skid across the keyboard.

you freeze when he turns on the camera.

the background is different from your usual work calls. you see the headboard of his bed, an array of pillows propped up behind him as he slouches against them. but unlike your usual late-night calls, the laptop isn't balanced on his knees so that you can only see his face.

its on the bed between his legs, giving you a full picture of his tear streaked face, the beautiful skin of his upper body, the jumping muscles in his thighs, and his thick weeping cock held in his veiny fist.

he moans when he sees himself on camera, resuming his movements and watching himself carefully through tear-soaked eyelashes.

"what the fuck?" you whisper, and he lets out a whiny sob, hand moving faster over his length.

"what the hell is wrong with you?" your voice grows stronger as you watch his other hand close around his neck, choking back his sounds. "what the fuck?" his hand is dragging up his neck, he's slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, drool dripping down his wrist. "lee haechan!" you press your thighs together, trying not to let the scene get to you, but it was no use.

"love it when you-" he gasps, hips bucking into his hand. "get mad at me. i told you…ah, ah…you're so fucking hot when you're mad." he wipes the drool off his chin messily, and reaches down to stroke himself with both hands.

"you're unbelievable," you snap, feeling your own hands drift to your thighs.

"and i…and i kept this thought to myself…" he moans, hand ghosting over his nipple as he whimpers. "but i always thought you looked like a camgirl when we call like this."

"yeah?" fuck it. you give in, crossing over to your bed. feigning indifference, you place the laptop on your sheets in front of you as you settle down and shrug off your sweatpants, grateful you had chosen to wear the white lace panties he liked.

"mmhm," he hasn't noticed you yet, his head thrown back and eyes closed. "i came when you tilted the camera down…wanted see your tits so bad…"

"if i was a camgirl, would you watch?" you slip your hand into your panties and let out a sigh, watching his cock twitch in his palm. missing the weight of it in your hand, on your thigh, and in you.

"fuck yeah."

"then why aren't you watching, baby?"

he moves so fast it's almost comical — eyes shooting open, he straightens to look at his laptop screen. the moment he sees you with your hand between your legs, panties so wet they were transparent, he cums, hard, thick globs of white cum oozing out of his tip as his legs tremble and a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks, his mouth falling open as he lets out a series of moans reminiscent of the filthiest hentai porn.

"was that your second time, hm?" you moan, the sight of him making you rub against your clit even faster, your hips rocking into your hand.

"third," he squeezes his cock again, pain darting across his face as he releases it, letting it soften against his thigh. "y/n… take them off please…"

"take what off?" you push a finger into you, sliding your other hand up your top to graze your nipples under your camisole. he whimpers at the sight.

"everything…" his eyes cloudy and desperate, his cheeks flushed so read you'd be worried he was running a fever. "wanna see you…"

you're focused completely on your own pleasure, your heart soaring to see him so completely fucked out before you.

"haechan…" you try to keep your voice under control, try to hide that you were close. you just wanted to see how far he'd go. "if you're my baby boy, then what should you call me?" you pinch your nipples, letting out a gasp. the sheets feel silky against your skin as your legs kick in pleasure, your hand still working in between your legs.

haechan's breathing picks up. when you look down at your screen, he's touching himself again, squeezing the base of his cock. his mouth falls open as you see his lashes flutter, rolling back into his head as he mouths the words.

whimpering, his lip wobbles as he looks at you on the screen.

"mommy," he moans, again and again, until you both climax, and you're no longer sure if he's saying it for you or himself.

haechan takes your words to heart. like, he really takes your words to heart.

when you tell him off-handedly that leather jackets look good on him, he buys 3 of the same and never wears any other jacket again. when you painstakingly teach him how to add a footnote to his document, he scrawls the steps down on a post-it and nudges you for validation each time he finishes a page, blinking at you like a puppy needing a treat. which is why he treats his rom-com watching sessions with you very seriously.

"so it's bad that he didn't ask her out properly?"

"yes," you nod, enthusiastically. "really bad. he shouldn't assume that she's interested and just act like he has a place in her life now — he has to earn it."

"right, yeah, fuck him," he growls, scrawling on his notebook.

you peek over at what he's doing — he's added 'not officially asking her out' on the 'no' list.

"are you sure the double negative won't confuse you?"

"the what?"

"nevermind."

reaching for the popcorn, you peer at the screen. "oh, and that's a good thing."

"where?" his head shoots up, and he squints at the screen. "what?"

"see, he asked 'can i kiss you'?' playfully, you glare at him. "you rarely ask for anything."

"that's not true…" he grumbles. "i asked you if i was making you uncomfortable…"

"yeah, that was one time…"

"i asked if i could eat you out last wednesday…"

"that wasn't asking that was sweet-talking."

"well can we fuck now?" he blurts out. running a hand through his hair, he tosses his notebook to the side.

a pause.

"well?" he raises his eyebrows.

"uh, okay…"

"was that asking or sweet-talking? oh-" and for some reason, he blushes when he registers your response. "you said yes."

fuck. "yeah, i guess." you place the popcorn down on the bedside table, feeling shy.

"well, as you wish, princess," he whispers conspiratorially, crawling over to you to pull you in for a kiss.

"see," you mumble against his lips. "you didn't ask…"

"oh, fuck, yeah sorry." breaking away from you, he wipes his lips on the back of his hand. "re-do, re-do. um…" he lowers his head.

"okay you don't have to re-do it i was just pointing it out…"

"can i kiss you, angel?"

you freeze.

he really was too pretty for his own good, his hair falling over his eyes, the ethereal flush to his cheeks.

"yes, please," you mumble, and he surges towards you, pressing his tongue into yours and running his electric touch down your spine.

"can i take your clothes off, angel?"

you murmur your consent as he smiles wide, helping you out of your clothes but lightly slapping your hands away when you reach to do your bra.

"this is my favourite part," he sighs, as he unhooks the clasps from behind your back, hooking a careless finger around a strap and pulling the lacy piece off of you, wetting his lips when he sees your breasts.

"can i suck on your boobs?"

"god, haechan-" he giggles as he takes one in his mouth, teeth lightly grazing on it from his smile. his hand comes up to the other one and he ghosts his touch over it, before deciding better and squeezing it roughly in his palm.

kissing down your stomach, he reaches the band of your panties with a smile.

"are you going to ask if you can take them off, haechan."

"i was gonna ask if i could eat you out," he murmurs against your skin, kitten licking your inner thighs and sending chills up your spine.

swallowing hard, you nod. "yes."

nosing at your clothed clit, he sucks the seat of your panties into his mouth, lips puckered in an adorable way if he wasn't literally trying to suck it off your skin.

"haechan…you can take them off," you say, weakly, feeling heat pool in your navel.

"mmhm…" he says, both hands winding around your thighs to grip onto the fabric of your panties. "or i could do this." with one harsh movement he's ripping them off of you, holding the pieces of cloth in his hands gleefully as he plunges forward and sucks harshly on your folds.

"haechan," you half-moan, half shout. "why did you do that…"

"i'm sorry, baby," he flattens his tongue and laps at you, flicking his tongue against your clit. "i'll buy you new sets, i'll buy you as many sets as you want…" stiffening his tongue, his prods at your entrance and tries to reach as far into you as he can, licking at your walls, his nose bumping into your clit as he tilts his head this way and that.

the pleasure increases tenfold when he starts moaning, and you finally come to your senses enough to see how he's humping the bed, his hips moving in time with the way he was licking at you. "taste so sweet," he moans. "cum on my face, angel. fuck…" he whines obscenely, hips moving faster against the sheets as he shoves two fingers into you, making your back arch. "can you cum for me?"

you let your orgasm crash into you, the pleasure burning through you and making you go lightheaded. haechan is whimpering and moaning, and you realise you have your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him away from your core and making his neck crane up. you almost let go before you remember that he likes it, so you pull a little harder and watch the way his hips stutter against the bed, achy moans filling the air as he cums.

"sorry," he gasps, "fuck, sorry…" he crumples into your arms. "it felt so good…i couldn't help myself."

"it's okay…" you still when you feel something prod at your entrance. "haechan-" but you're cut off by a loud moan, as haechan pushes his softening cock into you. "haechan, are you sure-"

"hurts," he moans. "but it'll feel better soon, it'll feel…fuck fuck fuck," his hips moving in an uneven rhythm, as if he can't decide whether to stop or go harder. "just a bit more…" he mumbles to himself.

deciding to help him, you smooth your hands down his chest and wrap your legs around him. he loves it when you cling to him during sex, he's told you openly, and he bites back another sigh as the pain seems to dissipate into raw pleasure again.

"just a bit more, baby," you murmur in his ear. he hiccups, nodding as he starts to pound into you in earnest, slapping sounds echoing in the room as his cock abuses the one spot inside you that makes you see stars. stretched out and filled by him, you rock your hips into his too, feeling his thick cock bulge inside you.

"can i cum in you, please?" he asks, softly, painfully. from where he lies on top of you, his brow glistening with sweat and his eyes watery from the overstimulation, you could never say no to him. he cums when you do, the feeling of your walls clenching around him being too much to bear, and he slumps in your arms, hips still pulsing against yours until you physically push him and he slips out of you.

haechan takes your words to heart. when you tell him to ask for permission, he does it throughout aftercare — asking for permission to run you a bath, to make you tea, to pull you closer in bed. and as you let his eyes meet yours, his gaze seeping into your pupils and making your mind go hazy, you wonder if he takes your words so seriously that he'll never consider moving from the affection you asked for, to the love you were too scared to want.

"did you forget something at my place?"

"no." a pause. "if i did, it would be too late because i'm almost home."

"then why are you calling?"

"because i'm cold, and my shoes are wet, and it's all your fault." he huffs petulantly, his words muffled by a pout you can imagine vividly in your mind's eye. "because you wouldn't let me stay the night."

"haechan," you started. "i already told you i have really bad insomnia…" he grumbles to himself and you think you can hear him mocking your tone. "i really need to sleep for tomorrow because i have that test-"

"oh yeah?" he bites back, annoyance clear in his tone. "and how's your sleeping going huh? are you talking to me in your sleep now?"

you make an incredulous sound. "if anything you should be kinder to me since i evidently can't sleep right now-"

"you know i could have just fucked you right?"

what the fuck. the sound of footsteps on gravel crunch on even louder, anger evident in the way he's practically stomping his way back to his apartment.

"haechan…what?"

"sex and other forms of physical intimacy at bedtime have been shown to increase drowsiness, reduce the time it takes to fall asleep, and improve overall sleep quality," he rattles off. when you don't respond, the anger seeps back into his tone. "i'm not making this up! that's a direct quote from the chief of pul…shit, pulmo…pulmonology at Kaiser Permanente in Honolulu."

"what's pulmonology?"

"how the fuck should i know?" another frustrated crunch. "but she's the chief of it, so she should know what she's saying."

your head is still reeling. stall, he gets distracted easily. "w-when did you look this up?"

"two weeks ago, when you told me you had trouble sleeping." crunch. "i had a…a….hypothetical…?"

"hypothesis?"

"don't interrupt me," he snaps. "i just remembered that people get sleepy after sex, and i knew there had to be a scientific reason. i'm not stupid you know."

"i know…" you say, weakly.

"but you wouldn't let me stay the night, for some reason you don't want to fuck me anymore, so now you have to suffer the consequences." the sound of a key fumbling in the door.

"haechan…"

his voice drops an octave, a harsh rasp you've only heard when it was late at night or early in the morning. "i could have taken such good care of you, angel. i would've eaten you out…stretched you out on my fingers…"

his next words are almost condescending. "would've fucked you until you passed out, or at least fucked you dumb."

confusion, and something far stronger and deeper, tug at your stomach.

"haechan?" your voice is a pale whisper.

he hums.

"i'm sorry. come back." you cringe at sound of your voice, small and achy, but you can't help yourself.

there's silence on the other end.

"you…want me to go back?"

"please."

and the line goes dead.

it's a solid 15 minute walk from haechan's to your apartment, but it only takes 7 minutes after he hangs up for him to slam against your door, pounding on it with an urgency far too loud for 12.30am.

when you open the door he crumples to the floor at your feet. he's drenched, completely, gasping and panting so hard you can see his chest move in and out with each shuddering breath. his mouth moving soundlessly, he crawls towards you, dragging himself up with a hand scrabbling at the wall, and your arms circle his waist immediately to steady him.

his eyes are squinted shut in pain at what you assume is a stitch in his side, but he's still mouthing the same set of words over and over again soundlessly, too out of breath to vocalise them.

"haechan, it's okay-" you splutter, helping him out of his rain-soaked sweater, his white shirt stuck to his skin underneath. "breathe. fuck, i told you to come back but i didn't tell you to sprint, did you fall? why would you-"

"- don'tchangeyourmind," he rasps, gasping and hiccuping between breaths, the words finally ringing out in the still air of your apartment. "don't change your mind, don't change your mind…don't-" he coughs, his breaths still feeling more like punches than drawing air.

"please don't change your mind," he begs.

his eyes are stealing the words from the cavity of your chest, drinking you in until you can't think of anything to say.

whimpering at your lack of response, he places his whole body weight on you, forehead gently nudging yours. "you told me to come back," he whispers. "i didn't want to give you any time to regret it. just now…when you made me leave…" his voice drops low.

he was supposed to be the boy who just wanted to fuck you. but why did it sound like he was talking about something else entirely?

"i don't regret it, haechan," you say, softly. "and i could never…" you swallow. "i could never change my mind about you."

he blinks, dazed. "i…" he takes a shuddering breath, and you tense up in fear. did he think you were alluding to something more?

"haechan, i just meant-"

"fuck, i don't understand anything you're saying," he blurts out. "i just know i want you, now." he drops his arms to your waist. "don't make me beg…i mean, fuck, if you told me to i would, but i just…"

"you don't have to use your words," murmuring, you run your hands up and down his arms, and he shivers at your touch, closing his eyes.

"but you need to hear them," he insists. "words of affirmation…remember?" your heart thunders in your chest.

"haechan…"

"i want to feel like i have you." his lips ghost over yours. "please?"

"please," you repeat back at him, and he's all over you.

he carries you to your room, placing you gently on the bed. things go by in a blur, his gentle voice guiding you through the motions, skin against skin and his lips kissing you everywhere. before you know it, you're straddling his thigh as he drags your hips, grinding you down onto him as his mouth licks at your neck.

"louder, angel," he pants, flexing the muscles in his thigh and making you whimper as you feel yourself coming close. this is the most silent he's been with you ever, his ears attuned to every catch of your breath, every choked sound you let out, that he falls silent to drink it all in.

"need more," you beg. "need you, please…"

"you have me." his eyes soften, the sight of you falling apart on just his thighs giving him an aching feeling in his chest. this was different from the girls who would fall over themselves to talk to him, who used their own tricks to meet his. this was you, giving all your control to him. "you're doing so good for me."

sniffling, you grind harder against him, chasing your climax. "i am?"

he allows himself a small groan. he wanted to swallow you whole. "come here," he says, tenderness straining at his voice.

he stretches you out before he slips into you, waits until you give him the go ahead. he makes you wrap your arms around him, feet planted on the bed as your body intertwines with his, as he fucks up into you. he wants to feel you on him until he can finally decipher every look that flits through your eyes, until he can read your thoughts and drown in them. he presses a hand to your navel, and feels himself moving inside you, angling his hips until he knows he's ramming his tip against your sweet spot, feels your breath catch as if it were his own, your tears mixing with his sweat.

he bites down on your shoulder when he cums with you. he doesn't know if it's to savour the sound of you falling apart because of him, or if it's to stop himself from admitting he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

when you wake up, he's in your bed. scrawling on a piece of paper.

he doesn't notice you're awake, so you move closer to him on the pretence that you're still sleeping, watching through heavy eyelids the way he's muttering to himself, biting on his lip harshly. the ache between your legs gives you a sense of bliss, and the sight before you gives you an overwhelming sense of peace in your heart.

feeling your body shift, he absentmindedly reaches out to stroke your hair. it's that specific action that gives you the courage to sit up, your heart full.

"good morning, haechan."

"what's another word for fuck?" he's not looking at you, mindlessly chewing on his fingernails as his eyes dart across his piece of paper.

"um…the verb or the expletive?"

"the action."

"why do you need another word for 'fuck'?" placing a hand on his shoulder, you lower your head to try and catch his attention. "haechan? what are you doing?"

"i need another word for fuck because renjun told me not to use the word 'fuck'," he mumbles, crossing things out on his scrap of paper.

"why?" you laugh, watching as his lips begin to pout slightly at how things were not turning out the way he planned at all.

unable to stop himself, he lets out a whine. "because it's unromantic-" clenching his fists, he yelps as the speech he has scrawled out gets crumpled up. "fuck!"

"haechan, it's okay," you're trying hard to keep a straight face, wanting to match his sincerity and tone. "is that a letter? for me?"

"it's my script," he snaps. "it's my planned confession." groaning, he tries to straighten it out so he can read the words on it. "you said…you said it was a bad thing not to confess, which means it's a good thing to confess…"

you feel like you're about to cry. "explain in your own words," you place a hand on his wrist.

"i- you-" he takes a deep breath, letting the crumpled piece of paper fall off the bed and onto the floor. "you deserve someone who can keep up with you," he starts, quietly. "you deserve someone who will understand your jokes on first listen, who can hold long conversations with you without getting distracted by how hot you are when you're talking about something smart. i can't be that person."

the words sting at your heart. is that really how haechan felt when he was around you?

"but also-" his voice grows stronger, a hint of defiance in his tone. "i know for a fact that i make you laugh harder than anyone you know, even if you're laughing at me and not with me. i also know i can fuck you better than anyone you've ever been with, like, look-"

he roughly pulls you towards him, lips finding yours messily. unfazed by the way your body tenses in surprise, he slips his tongue in your mouth just as he pulls you to grind onto his lap, causing you to gasp into his mouth. it doesn't take long for the shock to wear off, your body so attuned to him that a buzz runs through your veins — and you're just about to press yourself against him, starting to reciprocate his sloppy kisses, when he pulls away with a wet sound.

panting, he swipes his thumb affectionately at the corner of your lips. "see?"

you can't tell if you're frustrated that it ended so soon, or confused at what just happened. "see what?"

"that was what, 15 seconds?" both your breaths come quick and fast, the tension in the room so palpable you could feel it press insistently against your skin. "and look at you now." a smile tugs at his lips, and he raises his eyebrows cockily. "i'm the only one who can do that to you."

"yes, you are." you affirm.

"yeah, because, i know how to touch you-"

"because i'm in love with you," you interrupt, softly.

and haechan literally stops breathing.

you can see the way his chest stops moving entirely — his mouth hanging open, doe eyes wide. it's almost comical, the way his body freezes up.

"i can't tell if you're doing that on purpose."

still nothing.

"did you really stop breathing?"

"you love me?"

he comes back to life spluttering, hands pointing to you, than himself, trying to make sure he hadn't heard wrong.

"i love you," you repeat, gently. placing your palms on his chest, you feel his beating heart under your fingertips.

"you're not scared anymore?" he places his hands on your face in wonder, brushing a thumb on your cheekbone. you let yourself fall into his eyes, soft in the morning light. "you make it the easiest thing in the world," you whisper. the two of you bask in the moment, him breathing in your air, leaning closer and closer to you. your lips brush.

"fuck."

you whine as he pulls away, a horrified look on his face.

"y/n, i think i brainwashed you into loving me," he whispers, voice laced with genuine fear.

sighing, you gently bump your forehead with his. "if you make this about your dick..."

"no," he lets out a strangled sound. "that day, when we were calling and i was asking you questions..."

"haechan i swear to god-"

"those were 36 questions to make you fall in love," he whispers, pained. "y/n...i think i manipulated you. fuck i knew science was real, but i didn't know it was that useful-"

"after we make out, i'm going to have to explain the difference between pseudo-science and science to you", you grumble, as you push him back onto the bed and close the distance between you.

he whispers it into your hair, your face buried in his bare chest one night, his arms wrapped securely around you.

"i don't want to go back tonight."

"then don't." you hold him a little tighter, feeling him shift under your touch. "stay."

"no, as in, i don't want to go back, ever."

"haechan."

he hums, hands starting to stroke at your sides, rubbing his thumb against the swell of your chest.

"is this your way of asking to move in with me?"

"i dunno…"

"you do know that it's a big thing in a relationship right? and you're going to have to actually move out of your apartment, and figure out the rent on mine, and…"

"i don't care about that," he mumbles, a hint of stubborness in his tone. breathing in your hair, his voice drops even lower. "all i know is, i want to wake up tomorrow right here, with you. and the day after tomorrow. and the day after."

"yeah?"

his arms fall away from you as you sit up, brushing your hair out of your face to look at him in the lamplight. propped up against the headboard, his eyes wide and gaze so tender it steals your breath away like a blow to your ribcage. you can see the hesitance written all over him, the slight tension in his shoulder-blades, his fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the sheets.

"please say yes," he whispers, more to himself than to you.

"haechan…" you take his hands in yours, and kiss his fingertips gently. "please move in with me."

exhaling in exaggerated relief, he pulls you onto him and kisses you deeply. mouth moving against yours, his eyelashes fluttering as he focuses on your tongue moving against his, his teeth grazing your lips. trying to convey all the love he had for you in the way he gently held the back of your neck, his other pressing down on the small of your back until your body curves into his.

"if you move in with me," you smile, breathlessly, when he finally lets you go. "you can finally fuck me awake, like you promised."

a pause.

"is that all i am to you?" sadly, he runs a hand absentmindedly down his beautiful body, landing on his thighs. his eyes are downcast when he mumbles out, "just a hot body for you to fuck?"

panicking, you lean into him quickly, cupping his face in your hands as you settle down on his lap. "baby, you know that's not true. you're the most genuine, kind, loving….." you trail off, eyes narrowing when you realise he's biting his lip to keep from laughing. "manipulative, conniving…"

his eyes crinkle adorably as he wraps you in his arms, rubbing the tip of his nose on yours. "you love me soooo much," he whispers, almost conspiratorially.

yes.

pause. "also, what does conniving mean?"

yes. you did.

taglist: @puduwhore @haechanalpha @anniebyanto @sunnynaa @newdeobi @strwberrydinosaur @gyulfriend @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @matchahyuck, @prdshobi @beomibeom

-> go to part 2 here!

#haechan smut #haechan fluff #haechan angst #nct smut #nct fluff #donghyuck smut #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst #haechan x reader #haechan scenario #haechan au #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut

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bloodyhoon · 23 days

Text

7 minutes in heaven. [pt. 2]

pairing: fuck boy! sim jake x female! reader.

genre: smut.

warnings: virgin reader, slight jealousy and possessive jake, kissing, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk and idk what more. english is not my first language so there may be grammal or spelling errors.

words: 3.4K

part 3.

Your mind couldn't stop projecting the moments of your night with Jaeyun in the closet of your best friend's house. When you left that small space, everyone bombarded the two of you with questions and you wanted to die from all the attention on you, thirsty to create gossip with details. You had to put on a good show and make the occasional sarcastic comment about how it wasn't a big deal, earning you a laugh from Jaeyun who just shrugged his shoulders with a knowing smile on his face and sat back down with the rest of the group without commenting on it, leaving everyone around wanting to know more.

Of course Yena, your best friend, knew all the details of what had happened and encouraged you to repeat it if you had the opportunity because you had told her that Jaeyun had been good to you and you were comfortable and happy talking about it, she also noticed, while you gave her details of everything you had experienced, how your eyes were bright with emotion and something else.

A new small party was happening again, this time the owner of the house was Jaeyun himself and again Yena, Heeseung -almost her boyfriend- and you were hanging around the place enjoying the alcohol and music. Of course it was not a small party and people were packed into the big house, wandering drunk through the halls and dancing to the music that came from the speakers connected in the living room of the house. You walked away from Yena and her boy, not wanting to witness how they were now making out on the couch where you had been sitting hanging out and you walked through the house at a relaxed pace with a plastic cup wobbly in your hand while you felt how the alcohol slowly rose to your head and loosened your entire body. When you entered the hallway that led to the rooms, where there were no people annoying, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and stop you from continuing on your way, you turned and gave a smile to the boy who now stood in front of you.

"I was waiting to see you here." The boy's seductive voice filled your ears and you smiled, feeling a little tipsy, letting yourself be held by the waist and your body pressed against his. That was the voice of Park Jongseong, one of the hottest boys in your school, part of the group of fuck boys that consisted of him, Heeseung, Jaeyun, and another boy named Sunghoon, who was a little more reserved and was a little harder to find at those types of parties.

"And why did you expect to see me?" You rested your free hand on his shoulder and moved a little closer to him when his arms on your waist tightened a little. His touch on your body did nothing in you compared to the last boy who had touched you.

"Do you want me to show you better?" The boy had a seductive and defiant smile firmly on his face as his eyes went from your face to your body, which was barely covered by a pretty revealing dress. You knew each other and had exchanged one than another provocative comment and some indecent friction at other parties, but it had never gone further. Normally in those situations you used to fool around a little, make out with him for a while, letting him touch you subtly, and then play hard to get, saying that maybe next time you would give him what he wanted. Some idiots chose to invent that they had taken you to bed and others just waited excitedly for you to come back to them, but you never came back. When the boy grabbed your jaw, lifting your face to his level, he moved closer to kiss you, but the call of someone behind you stopped him instantly.

"Y/n" the voice behind you was calm and relaxed, waiting to get your gaze. You, still holding onto the other boy, turned your face and found Jaeyun a few meters away from you. His posture was relaxed with his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his pants, looking only at you. Being the contract to his posture, her gaze was dark and heavy, reflecting something that you couldn't understand but that made your heartbeat accelerate a little.

"Hello, Jaeyun" you gave him an almost indifferent smile and looked back at Jongseong, but he was no longer smiling at you and even his grip on you had loosened. "What were we talking about?" you asked him. You noticed that his gaze now went from Jaeyun to you and you didn't understand what had happened to make him change his attitude so quickly.

Jaeyun had headed to the hallway where he had seen you walking, knowing that minutes before Jongseong had also gone down that same hallway. He knew his friend's intentions with you and he was not the one to interfere, but he couldn't bear the idea that his friend flirted with you and sweetened your ear to end up taking you with him to one of the empty rooms. He also had the thought that you wouldn't know how to refuse to do something with him, because he was sure that you would refuse. For some reason he felt that he already read you perfectly and he loved that, it made him feel like he was beginning to know you more and that he knew more about your personality than the other idiots who went around talking shit about you.

"You know, man" Jaeyun walked past you and looked at his friend. "I need to talk to her."

"Sure" to your surprise, Jongseong let go of you without hesitation and took a step back, making way for Jaeyun to approach you and he began to walk away little by little. "Let's talk later Y/n" He desperately wanted to sound casual, but his tone was tense and doubtful. Something told you that you two would never speak again. When he walked away completely and left the two of you alone, only the music could be heard over everything while Jaeyun had his gaze on you, waiting for something from you.

"What's wrong?" you asked, avoiding his gaze and bringing yours to the colored wall next to you. When he was close enough to you, his hand went up to your face, holding you very delicately, as if with his grip he could break you, and made you look him in the eyes.

"Do you want to come with me?" You knew that question suggested many things, you knew it by the way he looked at you and his body had leaned towards you, waiting for you to say yes. His eyes looked at you expectantly and his hand moved from your jaw to your cheek, caressing it. You swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous and intimidated by the boy's calmness, and nodded without thinking. You had been waiting for this moment since Yena had told you about this party. He just held your hand and after a few steps, he opened the door to one of the rooms in the hallway where you were walking, making you enter first and then entering and closing the door behind him.

You looked around the room quickly, a white room with some black details, a desk with a computer in the corner and a large bed in the center covered by a seemingly soft black blanket, nothing very flashy but strangely cozy. You abandoned your inspection of the room and saw how the boy, after closing the door, approached you at a slow pace. You remained motionless in your place until he was in front of you and took the plastic cup you were holding, setting it aside and this time replacing it with one of his hands.

"What were you planning to do with Jongseong?" His tone of voice was low and calm, but it was cold, sending shivers down your spine. "He's no good for you, Y/n."

"And who if it is?" The question caught him off guard and you could tell by the way his gaze changed, he blinked quickly a couple of times and cleared his throat, then looked down at his hands and intertwined his fingers with yours.

"He only wants you for your body, baby." His touch was warm and soft, considering his words weren't exactly gentle. "But he will never be able to make you feel the way you want and deserve." His words were cold, but they warmed your heart in a way you didn't understand. His entire presence overwhelmed you, making you completely nervous and making you wait for his next move, wanting him to do whatever he wanted with you.

"You would." the words came out of you without you thinking about them and that made him look at you, he gave you a small smile before putting his hands on your waist and stepping back in place, making you follow him. A few steps and he dropped his body sitting on the bed behind him, he then took you by the waist and forced you to straddle him, you holding onto his shoulders firmly. His hands intertwined on your lower back.

"You're beautiful" he declared, looking into your eyes "And I was going crazy watching how Jongseong had his hands on you, you have no idea." His arms around you tightened along with those words and you waited for him to say something else. "I don't know why, but lately I can't stand the thought of someone touching you or telling you how beautiful you are. Only I want to do it and when someone else gets close to you, I want to take you with me away from any idiot." Your heart beat hard against your chest with each of his words and your head spun, but this time it wasn't because of the alcohol in your blood. It was because of him. Your gaze traveled from his eyes to his lips, wanting to feel them on yours again like the last time, and he seemed like he had really learned to read your body language because without the need for words, he approached your face and captured your lips. A sweet kiss with a gentle rhythm had begun, but you couldn't stay with that and not have more of him, so you brought your hands to the back of his head and kissed him firmly, opening your mouth slightly so that both of your tongues would touch each other. It was also difficult for Jaeyun to just kiss you without putting his hands on you, so he agreed to deepen that kiss and his hands ran all over your torso gently, digging his fingers into your skin and making you gasp. His lips moved from yours to your neck and collarbones, lightly biting your skin and making you gently tug his hair.

"Jaeyun-" you didn't know what you meant exactly, but you felt the need to let his name fall from between your lips like a prayer. You felt his lips on your skin letting out a small smile.

"What do you want?" he asked you, his hands did not leave your body and his lips were on yours again, leaving kisses as he waited for your response.

"Do you remember the-" your words were interrupted by his lips not wanting to leave yours. "Do you remember the last time?" you asked, shyness beginning to present itself in your body at the memory and also at what you were thinking.

"I remember it every minute, wishing it would happen again." He declared without shame and without hesitation, his lips beginning to form a smile. You swallowed and took a deep breath as you formulated the sentences in your head as the boy waited. for you. "Is there anything you want to tell me?" he prompted you to speak, you nodded slowly.

"I still want to do something for you" you looked him in the eyes, showing complete seriousness and confidence. Your hands that were on his shoulders, slid down his arms and then you took your body off his, forcing him to remove his hands from your body.

"Y/n, no-" you chose to kiss him so that he wouldn't continue talking and make you more nervous than you already were. You were more than sure of what you wanted to do next so after that kiss, Jaeyun watched your every movement with great attention since you separated from his lips, got off his lap and dropped to your knees between his legs, looking with innocent and curious eyes at the growing bulge in his pants while your hands rested on his thighs. He felt his cock jerk when your gaze fell on it, he couldn't believe you were between his legs about to touch him and him being the first man you did something like that to. He also couldn't believe that he was the first man who had touched you indecently, making you lose your mind and that you wanted to be in that situation with him.

"So pretty." He brought a hand to your face and caressed your cheek. "Are you sure?" You looked up and he felt faint when you looked at him through your eyelashes with your cheeks flushed and nodded several times. "Say it."

"I want to make you feel good" you managed to say those words without hesitation, he then nodded and gently brushed away the hair that fell in your face.

"Okay, baby. If you want to stop, just do it, don't worry." he spoke, searching uselessly for your gaze that had returned to his body. You didn't listen to what he was telling you, you just pressed your hands against his thighs and went straight up to unbutton his pants and free his throbbing cock. Jaeyun let out a hiss through clenched teeth as your fingers took his cock hesitantly, brushing lightly over the top. When you heard him, you moved your hand away and he grabbed your wrist quickly, bringing your hand back to his cock. "It's okay, don't worry, keep going." you nodded and went back to what you were doing.

"Tell me what to do." Your look and hesitant words drove him crazy, he wanted to ruin you. He wanted to take your body and position it under his, listening to you moan his name over and over again. Jaeyun brought a hand to your soft hair and stroked it.

“Just keep going, gently, ah-” the words got stuck in his throat as you, following your instinct, ran your hand up and down his length with just enough pressure to make him moan softly. You felt a little uncomfortable since it was the first time you touched someone like that, but seeing how his lips tightened and his eyes closed gave you a little confidence to continue with your movements. Finding yourself in front of his big, glistening, hard cock, you swallowed hard and without stopping stroking it, you leaned forward, giving the tip a small lick. You felt his hand on your hair tremble and you noticed out of the corner of your eye how he threw his head back sighing, completely losing himself.

"Damn, Y/n" his hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding you back to his cock. You parted your lips and wrapped them over the tip of his member while your hand stroked the rest of him at a steady pace, your teeth grazed him lightly and his eyes rolled back in his head along with the moan that escaped his lips. Your knees on the floor closed and you clenched your thighs involuntarily at that image and the sounds that the boy made. "Jesus Christ, fuck" his hand on the back of your neck pushed your head involuntarily and you choked a little. Jaeyun didn't pay attention to the involuntary movements of his hands because at that moment he was completely lost in the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around his cock and your hand caressing him, finding it incredible that this was your first time doing that. He swallowed hard and focused on the pleasure that your mouth gave him, feeling that if you continued like this he would cum quickly in your mouth as if it were his first time receiving a blowjob. "Wait Y/n" you moved your mouth away from his member and raised your head, looking at him with your teary eyes. Jaeyun couldn't help but feel his heartbeat speed up and he held your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks.

"Did I do something wrong?" Your voice sounded a little raspy. You were worried, since it was your first time maybe you were being a complete mess and it bothered him. The boy shook his head several times while his thumb ran over your lower lip.

"No, it's perfect. You're perfect." His simple words gave you immense peace of mind and you decided to go back to what you were doing. Just give him pleasure. The feeling of having him in your mouth hitting the back of your throat and making you choke and shed tears was too much for you, but you didn't care because you just wanted to make him feel good, so you continued at your pace when you heard him moan and squirm in his place. "If you keep this up, I'll cum in your pretty mouth." You flattened your tongue against his member, moaning at his words, Jaeyun could feel that vibration running through the entire length of his member. “shit, keep going please” his voice was trembling and low while his hand returned to your hair and you bobbed your head at a slightly faster. "Baby, you're going to make me cum" he warned you, but you didn't care and still with your eyes full of tears and fighting your gag reflex, you took as much of him as you could into your mouth, Jaeyun let out a loud moan, avoiding with everything in him from thrusting his hips into your face. "God, baby, you're so good" his head was spinning and the knot in his stomach grew with your movements that were beginning to speed up, his words echoed inside you and you felt the wetness between your legs increase. "I-I'm going to cum" he said, you hollowed your cheeks and that was his downfall, his fingers tangled in your hair pulling a little making you whine and you closed your eyes receiving the salty and bitter taste of his fluids flooding into your mouth. Moans came from deep in his throat as his head hung back with his eyes squeezed shut, lost in pleasure, this having probably been the best blowjob he could have ever received. "Holy shit, you're so good at this, thank you god" some gibberish left his lips as he recovered from his orgasm, removing his cock from your mouth and leaving a trail of saliva down your chin. Jaeyun looked at you and the image seemed extremely hot to him, your eyes wide and filled with tears while a trace of black mascara ran down your cheeks, your lips were shiny and swollen and your hair was somewhat tangled because of him. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiled at you and his tongue ran over his bottom lip, his eyes were slightly half-closed feeling completely relaxed. He pulled your body making you stand up and return to his lap.

“Was it okay?” you asked with a little discomfort with yourself as you fell straddling him. Jaeyun looked at you almost admiringly as he caressed your face and gently combed your tangled hair. As he looked at every corner of your face, his hands went down to your thighs caressing them tenderly, he didn't want to move, he didn't want you to get away from him and he didn't want to let you go. He didn't know if he felt that way because of the immense pleasure you had just made him feel or if his way of seeing you really changed because of the simple but intimate moments you had shared.

"More than okay" he agreed, reassuring you. "Your mouth is wonderful" he complimented. For some reason you blushed at the comment and avoided his gaze, focusing on his chest that was still rising and falling a little irregularly. "Listen to me Y/n" he demanded your attention, bringing a hand to your cheek and you looked at him still feeling shy to look him in the eyes by choice.. "Next time-" his other hand caressed your thigh gently, making your skin crawl, wanting to calm you down as he noticed the nerves in your body again. "I will make you mine" It wasn't a simple comment and you knew he was serious so your stomach flipped and your body trembled. He looked at you expectantly, his gaze telling you that you could refuse if you wanted, but you didn't say anything about it because you agreed with his sudden decision. You looked into his eyes, squeezing his shoulders with your trembling hands, but you nodded at his words without needing to speak and he nodded too, smiling at you and moving closer to kiss you.

part one had a lot of impact, thank you very much for all your responses and reblogs🫶🏻 and thank you for the 300 followers!

okay so should I write a part 3? for some reason I like writing this story.

tags: @secretlyapartofthisfandom @icepshrince @laurradoesloveu @sunpov @simhinata @irenereiii @primroselover @jakehooni @lycxee @kumiyoe @kashuannn @jaeyunpinkyring

there are some people that idk why but I couldn't tag 💔, I mentioned them anyway.

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jake scenarios #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #jake enhypen #jake imagines #sim jaeyun

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nina-ya · 1 month

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Can I request Zoro, Kid, and Law (separately) where their respective crew are going to like (whether it be for a mission or just for fun), a fancy event where they need to dress up, and the dress is like dressed up, and is so pretty, that the boys can’t resist and doesn’t stop kissing them? Idk, I thought it’d be cute and I love needy men who are so in love with their partner lol

One Piece Men Being Needy (Zoro, Kid, and Law)

Pairings: Zoro x reader, Kid x reader, Law x reader (all separate) CW: Suggestive content. A lot of implied sex. Just,,,... i fear i wrote this with nothing but sinful thoughts in mind HAHADJK WC: ~1.9k total A/N: I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO GET TO THIS BUT I AM HERE HI!! This was on my mind for much longer than i would ever admit so anon i greatly thank you for letting me write about them in this context hugs and kisses to you <3

You never expected such a simple choice in attire to stir such a reaction from Zoro. His intense gaze did not leave you the moment you stepped foot off the ship, dressed to the nines for the banquet.

Throughout the evening, Zoro could not keep his hands off of you. Whether it was a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you close to his side, or a sly touch under the table, he seemed off tonight. And the kisses, oh, the kisses were something else. More frequent than usual, each one leaving you wanting more.

What really caught you off guard was when he pulled you onto his lap, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

“Zoro,” you whispered, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you felt his own lips planting kisses along your exposed neck and shoulder, “what’s gotten into you tonight?”

He smiled against your skin, his arms tightening around your waist as he murmured back, “Just couldn’t resist.”

You tilted your head to make eye contact with him, “Well, I’m not complaining,” you teased, reaching up to briefly run your hand through his hair.

Zoro’s smile widened at your playful response, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter just as fast as the day you first met him. “Glad to hear it,” he said, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. The two of you were lost in your own little world, focusing on the feeling of your lips against each other as the banquet faded in the background.

But moments like these can’t last forever, and your attention was pulled to a familiar voice calling your names. You glanced over to see Nami approaching, a sly smile on her face as she caught the sight of the two of you. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. "Sucking each other's faces off, are we?"

You and Zoro quickly pulled apart, though the warmth of his embrace lingered on your skin. "Nami!" you exclaimed, feeling a rush of embarrassment heat up your cheeks.

Zoro just grunted in response, avoiding eye contact with Nami. If you looked closely, you could point out the smallest hint of redness creeping up onto his cheeks.

Nami chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you both. "It’s not like you’re really hiding it well," she said with a laugh before turning to head back to the dance floor.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed at Nami’s teasing, letting out a nervous laugh as she walked away. Zoro seemed amused by the whole situation, and went right back to planting kisses down your neck. His trail of kisses made their way up to your ear when he muttered into your ear, “She’s right. We are kind of making this obvious. Why don’t we cut this short and head back to the ship?” - - -

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when the door behind you swung open, pulling you out of your concentration. You shifted your attention in the mirror to see Kid standing in the doorway, dressed in a more formal attire for the night's events.

He strolled into the room, walking up behind you snaking his arms around your waist as he admired you through the mirror. “You look gorgeous.” He commented, planting a kiss against your temple. He looked down and his eyes focused on the lipstick in your hand and a smirk played on his lips. “Is that mine?” he asked.

You hummed in response as you cleaned up one of the edges. “This looked like the perfect shade,” you pulled back from the mirror and tilted your head to admire your makeup, “and it seems like I was right.”

Kid's smirk widened as he watched you, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, I suppose you have good taste," he teased, reaching out to take the lipstick from your hand. "But you know the rules, sweetheart. You gotta pay a price to borrow that."

Before you could protest, Kid leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. His lips were warm against yours, but just as quickly as it began, Kid pulled back, a smirk spreading across his face as you both took in the sight of your lipstick smeared at the edges.

You scolded Kid, lightly shoving his arm as you reached for your makeup remover. "You're going to make us late!" you exclaimed, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice as you dabbed at the smudged lipstick.

Kid chuckled, his arms still wrapped around your waist as he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, leaving another mark in the process. "Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We've got plenty of time."

As you worked to fix your makeup, Kid's hands roamed over your waist and shoulders, his touch light and affectionate as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving more of a mess for you to clean up. "You know," he said, his voice low and husky, “you should dress like this more often. You look absolutely beautiful."

You couldn't help but enjoy the compliments he’s throwing your way along with the feeling of his large hands tracing your body, giving squeezes ever so often. "Are you trying to flatter me?" you teased, glancing at him through the mirror.

You could feel Kid's lips curl into a playful smirk against your skin as he responded "Is it working?" he murmured, looking up to lock eyes with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "Because I have a proposition for you."

Your heart was already jumping out of your chest and yet it managed to beat just a bit faster as your curiosity heightened by his words. "Oh? And what might that be?" you asked, unable to hide the anticipation in your voice.

His hands trailed lower, fingers brushing over the curve of your hips as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "You know, we don't have to go to the event," he suggested, his voice laced with desire. "We don’t have to go out. We could stay right here. "

Excitement bubbled in your stomach at his suggestion. You placed down the items in your hand and turned around, draping your arms over his shoulders, leaning in., "And what exactly did you have in mind that we do?" you teased, your own voice lust laden.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” he murmured. With a sly grin, Kid's hands moved under your thighs, hoisting you up to sit on the counter behind you. He closed the distance between you two, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving you absolutely breathless. He pulled your body against his and your hands threaded through his hair as you relished in the feelings. Yeah, you guys are not making it to that event. - - - Golden eyes fixated on you from across the room, the orbs drinking in every movement you made, every breath you took, every word you spoke as you effortlessly mingled with the other guests at the lavish gala that you had to attend for a mission. How was Law expected to focus when you looked utterly captivating? The moment you emerged from the cramped confines of the Polar Tangs’ bathroom, adorned in that breathtaking dress, he knew he was spellbound. The mission, albeit important, paled in comparison to the magnetic pull you seemed to have.

Gathering intelligence on the enemy crew’s whereabouts seemed a trivial task to Law compared to the challenge of tearing his gaze away from you. You charmed the guests around you, soft laughter spilling from your lips as you feign interest in their rather vacuous jokes. It all seemed so effortless to you. As if in a trance, Law found himself setting down his champagne glass on the nearest counter, his feet making unconscious strides drawing him in your direction.

You stole a glance in his direction and noticed Law drawing nearer, seemingly with an urgent thought on his mind. The other guests, too, couldn’t help but notice his presence, their curiosity heightened by his sudden intrusion into your conversation.

“Excuse us for a moment,” Law simply said, his voice low, yet resolute as he grabbed your hand and led you away from the crowd. He offered a quick apology to the guests you were engaged in a conversation with, and you allowed yourself to be guided by him, confusion and anticipation filling you as you were whisked away.

He guided you with purpose, turning corner after corner until you reached a seemingly secluded area. You opened your mouth to speak, but before a single word could escape, his lips crashed against yours in an urgent kiss. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss with such an intensity that you couldn’t even process what was going on. His lips were warm and insistent against yours, and you melted into his embrace.

Lost in the intoxicating feelings of the kiss, you forgot about the world around you, the mission being pushed in the depths of your mind as you are consumed by the sensation of Laws’s lips against yours. But just as quickly as it began, Law reluctantly pulled back, your ragged breaths mingling with each other as he gazed deeply into your eyes. “I just couldn’t resist,” he confessed, his voice filled with need, each word charged with an undeniable desire. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.”

“Law,” you began, your words breathy as you recovered from the previous kiss, “the mission, we need to get back to- mph!” He silenced you with another kiss. The way his lips moved against yours threatened to consume you entirely before you lightly pushed on his chest to separate the two of you.

“Don’t worry about the mission.” he muttered, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before continuing, “I’ve got the information we need.” His words were accompanied by the rapid thumping of his heart against your palm, mirroring the frantic beat of your own. “You look just so,” he started planting wet kisses down your neck as his hands danced down the sides of your body, pulling a small gasp from you as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. As his lips made their way back up to your ear, he finished his thought, “enchanting. You just look utterly enchanting, and I would like to take advantage of this.” You could practically hear the smirk in his words while he guided you backwards until your back made contact with the wall behind you. Law was certainly going to make it clear that nothing else mattered in that moment except the two of you.

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vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

Military Flyover

The dagger squad don't want to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas grand Prix. None of them really knew much about and, those that did only really knew about Nascar.

She hated the Vegas Grand Prix as much as those doing the military flyover. But the cute WSO there to support his friends was making it bearable.

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F1 driver!reader

5.6K

a/n: yes a military flyover doesn't make sense for vegas buuuut let a girl dream lol - i'm hoping I've managed to write this for an audience that might not really know f1 but idk how confident i am in my abilities lol

Bob couldn't quite believe what the two time Top Gun graduates were having to do. They had completed an insanely dangerous mission and returned to be permanently stationed in San Diego, except from when they were called away for deployment.

They were a part of the military, why were they doing this?

Well, at least Bob didn't have to actually fly. He was a Weapon Systems Officer, he didn't have to take part in this. But he still went, more to morally support his squad.

Nat wasn't happy about have to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. She, Bradley and Jake were constantly complaining. None of them knew anything about Formula One, not enough to appreciate doing the flyover.

(May I just say, even if they did know about F1, they still wouldn't appreciate it. They'd train for years to be in the navy and now they were having to waste their time on this.)

The flyover was on the Sunday. Only Natasha, Jake and Bradley were taking part. Bob didn't have to go, didn't have to visit the track on the Friday and the Saturday with the three of them.

But Natasha had begged him. "Drive up with me," she'd said to him. "It's five hours and I could use the company."

So, Bob agreed. His dad had sometimes watched Nascar while he was growing up. He didn't know much of anything about motorsport but, if Nat wanted him there, he'd go.

The navy pilots didn't know they'd been invited to meet the drivers. Bob followed Natasha through the paddock. "Getting to meet the drivers might be the only good thing thing to come from this," Nat mumbled as she led the way.

The paddock was buzzing with life. There were cameras following people around, interviews happening as they walked through the paddock. Fans stopped men in team shirts and hats for pictures before letting them continue.

There was a familiar whistle, just loud enough for Natasha and Bob to hear over the crowd around them. They turned and saw Rooster and Hangman striding towards them.

"Where are we meant to be?" Asked Hangman as Rooster pulled off his aviators and looked around. The three of them (Natasha, Jake and Bradley) were in their overalls, looking proper in their uniform. Bob, though. He was dressed down, wearing jeans and a sweater (Vegas really wasn't that warm this time of year), his military issued glasses sitting on his nose. He looked cute, even if he didn't know it.

"Cyclone said the Ferrari garage, right?" She said as she looked between the other aviators. Bob, who had studied the itinerary, nodded his head and the four of them set off towards the red garage.

***

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a joke. All of the drivers thought so.

The Ferrari drivers weren't happy about it (just like the rest of the grid). They had spent the season struggling behind the Red Bulls and driving on an unknown track wasn't going to help that.

She needed a lot of mental preparation for this one. Just like the other drivers, before the first practice session her only experience on the track had been through sim racing. She was nervous in a way she hadn't been before.

She donned her red fireproofs, the overalls hanging from from her hips. She pulled her cap onto her head when there was a knock on her driver room door. "Yeah?" She called and the member of Ferrari staff walked in.

"The navy pilots are on their way," she said and went to back out of the drivers room.

"What?" The Ferrari driver called suddenly, her brows furrowed. "What navy pilots?"

The member of staff gulped. "They're doing a military flyover before the Grand Prix," she said. "They're on their way here to meet you and Charles," she said.

The driver let out a huff. She grabbed her drinks bottle and marched out of her drivers room, heading to find her teammate.

Charles was doing an interview for Sky Sports when she walked through the garage. She didn't much care, though. She powered on, her hand on Charles's shoulder as she stood at his side. "Chuck," she said, looking at her teammate.

Lawrence Barretto moved his microphone back to his mouth. "Is that his official name for the Vegas Grand Prix?" He asked and moved the microphone towards her.

"Yes," she said as Charles shook his head, repeatedly saying 'no'.

She stood beside him until the interview was over, answering any question Lawrence sent her way. As soon as they were done she grabbed Charles and pulled him away, pulling him further into the Ferrari garage.

"What's up?" Charles asked. He was a brilliant teammate, one of her best friends. They'd known each other for yeas and were close enough for people to think they were together at one point. Brocedes 2.0, many commented on the pictures of the two of them posted on the Scuderia Ferrari Instagram account, as if they were a disaster waiting to happen.

"Did you know we're having to meet the navy pilots doing the military flyover?" She asked, hands on her hips.

Charles furrowed his brows. And then his face relaxed as he shook his head at her. "Start checking your emails, please," he said.

She gently pushed him as a member of the Ferrari staff, the same girl from before, approached them. "They're here," she said and left them to it.

Charles led the way back through the garage, heading to where the navy pilots were standing around his car. Three of them, the three that looked the part, chatted with Fred while one, one that was dressed down, stood to the side.

Suddenly, she pulled Charles out of sight. "What is it?" He asked quickly, concern written on his face.

She looked back around the corner at the pilots for just a second. "Holy shit, Cha, I think I'm in love," she said and Charles just laughed.

"Do you need a wingman?"

She furiously shook her head. "Don't you bloody dare."

She steadied herself and followed Charles over to the navy pilots. Fred spotted his drivers first. He gestured over to them as he back away from the pilots, letting the drivers take over.

Charles held his hand out towards them introducing himself first. She went next, giving them her name as she reached out to shake the woman's hand.

"Natasha Trace," she said with a smile as she shook her hand. "Callsign Phoenix."

She moved on to the man with the moustache. "Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster," he said and shook her hand, his grip firm. He wore a smile, but it was respectful.

Unlike the man next to him. She could tell who he was from the moment she looked at him, wearing that flirty smile. "Jake Seresin," he said, pulling her hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. "You can call me Hangman."

The smile dropped from her face and she pulled her hand away, clearly unimpressed. She looked past him, at the guy in the sweater and the glasses. "How about you?" She asked, completely ignoring Hangman. "Are you in the navy too?"

Bob blushed bright red as he stepped forward. "Robert Floyd," he said and shook her hand. "I'm a weapon systems officer."

"Oh," she said. Just that one word and she sounded incredibly fascinated. "Do tell me more."

She'd asked Charles not to wing man her, but he did it anyway. She might not have been aware as Charles spoke to the other navy pilots, doing the job for both of them. (Charles didn't know if Bob was the one she had fancied, but it was easy to guess. He looked like her type).

They spoke for a good twenty minutes before the drivers were told to wrap up the conversation. "You got a call sign?" She asked Bob as she crossed her arms over her chest and leant against the wall.

Jake had been wrapped up in the conversation he, Rooster and Phoenix were having with Charles until that point. Upon hearing her question, he placed his arm around the WSO's shoulders and grinned at the driver. "This is Baby On Board," he said with a grin, going to pinch Bob's cheeks.

Again, his cheeks were flaming as he stepped away from Jake. "It's Bob," he said. "Just Bob."

"Just Bob," she repeated as she smiled at him, completely ignoring everything Jake had said (something that Bob was grateful for). "It's simple, I like it."

Her engineer called for her. She turned and put her thumbs up before turning back to Bob. "Are you staying for the free practice?" She asked and Charles couldn't stop himself from answering.

"Sorry," he said to the pilots. "She doesn't read her emails."

She sent a glare in Charles's direction. The drivers said a quick goodbye to the navy pilots (although she hoped it wasn't for the last time), and got themselves ready for the first practice session in Las Vegas. They pulled up the red and white overalls and placed the balaclavas over their faces.

Bob watched as she pulled her helmet on, hiding her undeniably pretty face. He really did think she was beautiful, and she seemed interested in him, but he wasn't going to read too much into that.

He couldn't see as she gave him a smile from beneath her helmet. When she climbed into the red car with the number 53 on it, Bob knew which one he had to look out for.

The track wasn't ready, everybody knew it. But they didn't know how bad it was until they shower of sparks coming out the back of her car. "What the fuck was that?" She said to her engineer down the radio. "I just hit a fucking manhole cover."

The pilots were leaning forward as she stopped the car. The session was stopped, the other drivers coming into the pits. She jumped out of the car, waiting for it to be lifted onto the truck so that she could look at the extent of the damage beneath.

As the car was taken back to the garage and workers surrounded the manhole cover, she climbed into the medical car and was taken back to the pitlane.

Bob watched as she stormed into the garage, pulling off her helmet and balaclava. "Nine fucking minutes!" She heard her say to somebody in a Ferrari shirt. "I officially hate the Vegas Grand Prix."

She looked around the garage, eyes focusing in on the pilots. They were watching her, too, and she forced her expression to soften as she walked over. "Sorry you had to see that," she said, unzipping her race suit.

Bob shook his head. "'s no worries, ma'am," he said before he could stop himself. When his fellow aviators looked at him, his cheeks flushed red.

"We're just glad to know you're okay," Natasha said for him.

The driver smiled at them. But the interaction was short lived as she was called over to her wrecked car. (It looked fine on the top, but everybody knew the damage was beneath, invisible).

The nine minutes of practice wasn't enough to help the aviators get into F1. Rooster, Hangman and Phoenix wanted to head back to their hotels, but Bob wanted to stick around.

"My dad was into Nascar," he explained as the others left. They nodded, but they knew better. Their Baby On Board had a crush.

She hadn't expect him to stay, that much was clear. She'd seen the other aviators leave and had gotten on with what she needed to do, speaking to the mechanics about the parts they needed to replace and speaking to Fred about the potential consequences.

"Oh!" She said when she saw Bob still sitting there. "I thought you would have left."

Bob gave a polite smile and shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to learn more."

The smile she gave him matched his own. "Well, you're not gonna learn much here," she said. "Let me get changed and we can get dinner."

Bob didn't expect dinner to be in the Ferrari hospitality suite. He'd didn't exactly think he'd be going out to dinner with her, but he didn't expect this.

She sat Bob down at a table and got a selection of food for them to share. "I can't exactly go crazy," she'd said as she sat down opposite him, placing the single plate in between them. "I still have a car to drive later."

Bob grabbed something from the plate. "Why does that mean you can't go crazy?" He asked curiously, innocently.

Every question Bob had, she answered. He told her that his dad watched Nascar while he was going up but he couldn't get into it. Didn't have the time once he joined the navy.

She asked him all about that, just as curious as he was about her job. Bob knew she was meant to be this big celebrity, but she was normal with him, and he really appreciated it.

He hadn't known who she was going into this weekend, but he heard the way the fans screamed her name. She was so famous, and he was just a boy from Montana.

"Are you and your friends watching anything else of the Grand Prix weekend?" She asked as she ate a piece of lettuce (literally just holding a big piece of lettuce to her lips and crunching on it).

Bob shook his head as he looked down at the table in front of him. "'Friad not, ma'am," he said, looking at her over the top of his glasses. Bob didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he took them off.

"Aw," she said with a pout. "I liked them."

"Really?" Bob couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "I used to have ones with slightly thicker frames, but these are military issued," he explained, putting them back on his face.

She grinned at him. "They're cute," she said, resting her cheek in her hand. It was undeniably flirty, and her grin was only making it worse. Well, that would have been if Bob could have allowed himself to believe that was flirting with him.

"I could get you tickets, if you'd like," she said. "You and your pilot friends. You can come back back to the Ferrari garage, support us for the rest of the weekend."

Bob gave her a gentle smile. "I'd like that," he said.

They continued chatting until she had to head back to the garage. Bob followed her, walking behind her.

She took him back to the garage, leaving him to stand with the rest of the Ferrari guests while she disappeared into her drivers room. Bob couldn't help but think of her as she got herself ready, getting dressed into her fireproofs and race suit. If Nat was here, he could ask her for advice.

Ten minutes before the start of FP2, she walked over to Bob. He'd seen her dressed down in a Ferrari hoodie and cute cargos, seen her in her race suit, and seen her in her fire proofs, race suit sitting low on her hips.

That was how she walked towards him. He'd seen so little of her, but this was his favourite (and he certainly wanted to see more). "Want to sit in the car?" She asked, hands on her hips.

***

The first thing she did after FP2 was give Bob her phone number. He couldn't quite believe it, and made a mental note to recount everything to Natasha as soon as he got back to the hotel.

"Have you got a way back to your hotel?" She asked, her helmet tucked beneath her arm.

"I, uh..." No, he and Natasha had gotten a cab together.

She waved him off before he could give her a proper answer. "I can drive you, if you'd like," she offered.

That was how Bob found himself sitting in an F1 drivers car, telling her about his childhood as she took him back to his hotel. He told her about his big family and the mountains he grew up around. He told her about when he joined the military, about his first time in Top Gun and his permanent stationing in Coronado.

Before very long they were pulling up outside of his hotel. "Well, here we are," he said, patting his legs. He didn't move to leave the car, but she didn't much mind.

"I really liked meeting you today, Bob," she said as she tapped the heel of her hand against the steering wheel.

"It was lovely to meet you, too," he said.

"Promise you'll text me?"

"Promise."

She held out her pinky finger and Bob wrapped his own around it, sealing the deal. He looked at her one last time and climbed out of the car, heading into the hotel.

Bob couldn't hide his smile as he walked through the lobby and into the elevator. Just days ago he'd hated the thought of a military flyover for the Las Vegas Grand Prix. Now, he couldn't wait to get back to the track, back to the Ferrari garage.

Nat noticed it the minute he walked through the door of the hotel room they were sharing. "Had a good time watching the rest of it?" She asked as she pushed away from the desk in the room.

Bob nodded as he pulled out his phone, clicking on her contact. But, the moment he was there, he didn't know what to say to her. "Nat," he called, looking up at her. "I need your help."

He only needed Nat's help to get the ball rolling. But soon, she and Bob were sending messages back and forth with just a second long gap between. Sometimes Bob took a little longer to reply, but only because Nat was reading the messages over his shoulder and assuring him that she was flirting.

Bob couldn't believe it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't.

"I'll go with you tomorrow," Nat said as she climbed into her bed. It was incredibly late and Bob was hyper-aware that they were still texting. "Find out if she really is flirting with you."

"Nat..."

"Goodnight, Bob."

Natasha went to sleep, but Bob stayed up. She was still replying to his messages, and he couldn't bring himself to not respond. At least until she turned around and wished him goodnight.

When Bob woke up, she had already texted him. I don't have to be on track until later - wanna get food?

Who was Bob to say no? Natasha grinned as he got himself ready, including his glasses. (He had brought his contacts to Vegas because of how much he hated wearing his glasses. He didn't have time to put them in before they headed to the track the day before, but Nat didn't expect him to wear them now).

He walked out of the hotel, ignoring Hangman and Rooster as they called after him. They sat in the lobby, do doubt waiting for Natasha as they whistled at him.

Bob kept going. He saw her car before he walked out of the glass doors, and had to stop himself from breaking into a small jog. As he approached, she pushed open the passenger side door. "Hey, Robby!" She called, wearing a grin.

"Hey," Bob said, wearing a smile as he climbed into the passenger side.

As soon as he was buckled in, she began driving. "Have you ever been to Vegas before?" She asked as she headed towards the strip.

Bob shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said. It wasn't in the same way he'd said 'ma'am' before. No, those time he had been nervous saying it. This time, it was so fucking cute and she loved it. "I don't get enough leave for that."

"Why do you call me ma'am?" She asked, but she never wanted it to stop.

Bob couldn't stop his smile. "My momma raised me right."

That much she could tell. She parked the car and climbed out as Bob did the same. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

They went to a restaurant. Bob didn't catch the name of it as she pulled him through the doors. Even when sat gave the waiter her name, she was still holding his hand.

They sat down at a table for two. It felt far too intimate, almost like a date. She couldn't order a drink, but insisted that Bob did. He ordered one beer and made sure to make it last through their entire lunch.

She ordered a salad. Bob wanted to do the same, but she could see how conflicted he was. "Have whatever you want," she said, lowering her menu.

So, he did just that. Bob got himself a burger, the cheapest one on the menu (which was still incredibly expensive).

While they ate, Bob couldn't ignore the way her foot touched his knee beneath the table. He gulped as he reached for his beer.

While they waited, she told Bob about how she had grown up. Karting from a young age before moving onto single seaters.

The more she spoke, the more Bob could imagine getting into F1. Watching races, coming to see her in Vegas when he wasn't deployed. He just had to hope she still liked him enough to keep in contact with him.

They spent the entire afternoon together, until she was taking Bob to the track with her. Pictures of the two of them were taken as they walked through the paddock, too close to just be friends.

Once again, Bob stood in the garage while she completed the last practice session. She led, the fastest car until the Red Bulls were released onto the track.

But still, Bob couldn't stop watching the number 53 car. She came into the pits, had her tyres changed and went out a few minutes later.

Bob couldn't help but smile as he watched her climb the leaderboard. When practice ended, she didn't come in right away, doing a practice start with the other drivers.

When she got out of her car, she pulled off her helmet and balaclava, and spoke to her engineers. She had looked so happy when she climbed out of the car, but Bob watched as her face fell.

She walked over to him, unable to keep herself from sighing. The anger dropped from her face, replaced by sadness. "Wanna come sit in my drivers room?"

So, Bob followed her to her drivers room. She led him inside and shut the door behind him, letting out a breath as she leaned against it.

"Everything okay?" Asked Bob as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

She unzipped her overalls and let them fall to her hips. Bob shuffled over on the couch, giving her space. She sat beside him, shutting her eyes as she leaned back. "Because of the parts they'd had to replace in my car, I'm probably going to get a penalty later," she mumbled.

Her head fell onto his shoulder and Bob didn't move. He hesitated before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. That that, she shuffled slightly closer, which Bob didn't mind one bit.

Suddenly, she let out a weak laugh. "You're kinda making me want to stay in the states a little longer, Robby," she mumbled.

He looked down at her. "Would you? Seriously?" Bob could imagine it then, taking her to stay with him in San Diego, taking her to Montana to meet his mom at Christmas.

She shook her head. "I can't," she said and sighed through her nose. "There's one last race before the end of the season."

After that, Bob wanted to say. But he squeezed her shoulder instead.

When her trainer came in, Bob wished her good luck and headed back out to the garage. While he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent Natasha a text. She hadn't gone to the track with him, instead going with Bradley and Jake to the hangar they would be flying from.

If Nat showed Rooster and Hangman his texts, he'd never hear the end of it. But Bob realised he didn't mind. Let them talk, he was here with her.

The first round of the qualifying session was about to start. Bob sort of knew what to expect, she'd explained it to him while they sat in her drivers room, her head on his shoulder. He watched as she walked towards the car, her red, gold, black and white helmet on her head.

She climbed into the car and somebody strapped her in as somebody else spoke to her. She nodded at whatever they were saying and put her thumbs up.

Admittedly, Bob couldn't tell the difference between the practice sessions and the qualifying session. He watched as she went from having no time on the board to being the quickest car on track. But then she was knocked out of the top spot, down in eighth by the end of that session.

Bob had assumed that she was starting the race in eighth position after the eighteen minute long qualifying session. But then she and fourteen other drivers were going back out onto track.

Again she was at the top of the board, knocked out by the same driver. But she stayed in fourth, unable to get a quicker time in before the end of the session.

She went out for a third and final time. Bob heard her calling down the radio as somebody got in her way. But she put an impressive time on the board, finishing third.

It may have been obvious to everybody else in the garage, but Bob had to ask the girl standing next to him. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear and answered with a thick French accent. Bob thanked her and watched as the 53 car came into the garage.

She hopped out, did what she needed to do and came to find Bob.

It was near midnight and she couldn't quite believe he was still there, watching her. They'd spent the entire day together, and she'd loved every minute of it.

"Want me to drive you home?" She asked and Bob nodded his head.

She did just that, driving Bob back to his hotel. "They haven't confirmed if I've got a penalty or not," she said as she drove him. "So, for now I'm starting in P3." She quickly glanced at him and then looked back at the road. "Think you might be my good luck charm, Robby," she said and he blushed a deep shade of red.

She pulled up outside of the hotel, just as she had done the day before. And, like the day before, Bob was hesitant to climb out of the car.

As Bob reached for the handle of the door, she opened her mouth, ready to say something, and he stopped. But she closed her mouth. Still, Bob didn't move.

She sucked in a breath and tried again. This time, words came out. "Can I come up?"

Bob knew what that meant. How could he not? Some part of him had been wanting her to ask something like this for the last few hours. But still, he shook his head. "I, uh, I can't. I'm sharing my room with Nat."

"Oh," she said and looked down at the centre console between them. "Oh, shit. Are you and Nat- I didn't mean to overstep... I-"

Bob quickly shook his head. "No. No, Nat's my best friend, but only my best friend," he said. "But, her bed is a couple feet away from mine, so..."

She couldn't help but let a smile cross her face at that. "Can I kiss you, Robby?" She asked.

He leaned over the centre console. Her arms went around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the back of his neck.

Bob kissed her. He closed the gap between them, his arm awkwardly resting on her shoulders as his lips moved against her own. Her nose bumped the lens of his glasses, but neither of them minded.

If the expensive car left room for it, he would have moved her onto his lap. But he couldn't. He pulled away, staring at her as his eyes opened again. "Holy shit," he whispered and she grinned at him.

"I'll come and get you before the race," she said and Bob climbed out of the car.

***

He didn't wake up to a text from her. Immediately Bob's mind played tricks on him, telling him that, after they had kissed, she didn't want him.

He sat in the hotel for half of the day, in a perpetual state of anxiousness. Part of him didn't want to move until he heard from her, until he knew that everything was okay.

"You coming?" Nat asked him. He checked his phone one last time before following her out of the hotel room.

He didn't know what she was currently dealing with, that she had just found out about her grid place penalty. "This is such shit!" She cried as she and Charles walked through the paddock. She'd woken up to the news and hadn't had time to message Bob.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Charles said, stopping to sign things for fans (signs, hats, and even a packet of oreos). "How are things going with the navy guy?"

She grinned as they kept walking through the paddock. "We kissed, Cha," she said, suddenly much happier.

"Kissed and..." Charles tried to push.

She shook her head. "Just kissed."

Charles nodded as they walked into the garage. "Just kissed, but you wanted more," he said. "Are you gonna see him before we leave?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm gonna go and pick him up before the race."

Through the evening, she and Charles did what they needed to do for the race. When she got a minute, she texted Bob, but she didn't have many opportunities to check her phone.

As soon as she had a chance, she ran out of the paddock. She held her phone to her ear as she went, making her way to her car. Bob picked up on the third ring. "Hey," she said, opening the door of her car. "I'm on my way."

Bob hesitated before he answered. "I'm not at the hotel right now."

"Do you still want to come to the race?" She asked quickly.

"Do you still want me there?"

She let out a laugh. "Of course I do, Robby. Give me the address and I'll pick you up."

That was just what happened. She picked Bob up and took him to the track. She promised the other aviators that she would get him there to watch the military flyover and drove off with him in the passenger seat.

"Have you ever been to San Diego?" Bob asked as she drove. It had been playing on his mind a lot since they kissed, his best case scenario (which was currently happening. He could have laughed at himself for being so worried).

She shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to explore outside of the places we have Grand Prix," she answered.

"So, you haven't been to Montana?"

"Nope."

Bob couldn't help but smile. He sucked in a breath, steadying himself. "I don't know when you're gonna have time off, but I could show you Montana, if you'd like."

She grinned at him as she parked the car. "I'd love that, Robby," she said and climbed out of the car.

She checked the time on her watch, grabbed her hand and began running. "I'm late!" She cried. Bob was only happy to run beside her, heading into the Ferrari garage. He slowed to a walk, but she kept going, running to her drivers room to pull on her fireproofs and overalls.

Bob watched it all. He watched as she stood for the national anthem with her fellow drivers, watched as she completed the formation lap from the back of the grid (something he had to ask about), and watched as she raced.

Bob couldn't help but be impressed as she fought her way across the track, racing past most of the grid. She overtook ten other cars, finishing in 5th.

When she climbed out of the car, Bob could see just how happy she was from her body language alone. She did what she had to do, spoke to the team and was interviewed, before she ran over to Bob and threw her arms around him.

"That was incredible!" He cried, smiling down at her. "I didn't realise racing was so exciting."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Think you'll watch next weeks race?"

"Definitely," he said.

He hadn't expected her to kiss him in front of all of the cameras. But Bob didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I leave in the morning," she whispered in his ear. "Stay with me, in my hotel. One last night."

"Until Montana?" Bob asked, his forehead against her own.

"Until Montana."

a/n: ok i loved this and it may need a part two lol

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader smut #robert bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd smut #robert floyd x you #top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

Text

your jealousy is showing (on me)✩‧₊˚

—> hockey player/coach!wanda x afab!reader

tw || SMUT MDNI, top wanda x bottom reader, dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, jealous wanda, exhibition (janitor closet), marking/impact play (hickeys, bruises, thigh spanking), fingering (r receiving), r gets hit on but is oblivious, tyler mention!, reader is said to be wearing a dress, person who hits on r sees the two of them, not proofread!

a/n || in such a slut for this woman. so sorry if my writing is nastier than coconut, idk how I feel about it haha but I hope you enjoy bc this made me hot and bothered tbh

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Practice has been going well, better even. There’s been an increase in number since people started to find out that wanda has experience on the ice as a player on a professional team. The stands have become packed, families and friends taking up every corner, a completely contrast from before. You remember the days when you first came with your nephew, sitting and having a seven feet distance from another person. Tyler’s since graduated from wanda’s class, now attending another with a different coach.

It was a sad day for him, hugging your girlfriend tight and exclaiming how he wishes to have her as a coach for every class. She had laughed, resting a hand on his back and reassured him that she’ll attend his other classes. She even went as far as to mention private classes, saying they can spend time together on the ice. A smile had come upon your face as you watched the two interact, thankful your nephew is able to have such a wonderful relation with his coach, your girlfriend.

Since then you’ve been attending his classes with Wanda. You can’t help yourself, curling a hand through her arm to hold her close. You complain that it’s the cold, but you both know it’s a shit excuse. Regardless, she’s never going to turn you down, if anything she’s pulling you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head.

“He’s improved a lot. Lately he’s been practicing outside his house with some friends on the street.”

“That’s probably the only reason why he’s able to skate in a straight row now. Do you think he’ll continue to play?”

“I think so. It’s all he talks about, but of course we can’t say definitive terms. He could fall out of love with it in a year and choose like baseball.”

“If he were to choose another sport it’d be football, not baseball. His favorite part of hockey is running into others, he forgets there’s an actual game going on.”

You stifle a laugh, “he’s trying.”

He proved Wanda’s words to be correct because the next second he’s slamming into one of the team members, pummeling the two into the wall. The coach had come to talk to you after, seeking you where you stood by the concession stand. You had a hand on Wanda’s arm, informing her of where you’ll be.

You were paying for the snack, thanking the person behind the counter. He had stood behind you just out of your line of sight, so just enough that you ran into him when turning around. His shirt smelled of sweat and his cologne, a lot of his cologne, so much so it overwhelmed you.

“Hey, you’re tyler’s mom, right?”

“No, just his aunt.”

“My bad. Sorry that was terribly rude of me, I was going to say you look good for your age.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“Of course,” he flashes a smile, leaning onto one of the tables beside him, “I’ve notice how often you come, it’s great that you’re supporting him like this. Most kid’s don’t have such a supportive aunt.”

“I try. My brother and his wife are busy, so I take over. He’s means well but he’s still a young teen.”

“Yes. He’s nothing new. A lot of teens enjoy the physical aspect to the game, it’s normal for them to be competitive even with each other.”

A few minutes have gone by, enough time for concern to begin swirling through Wanda’s mind. She’s relieved to see you’ve not gone missing and that you’re all in one piece, standing only a few feet from her.

“That’s my coach,” Tyler starts, seeing how Wanda’s attention was directed at the tow of you.

“I know,” she deadpans, turning her attention back on your nephew, “finish untying your shoes.”

“I know,” he mimics, tone lowering to frustrate her further.

You’re walking back over with a grin plastered on your face. Tyler’s already grabbing at the drink you got, pulling it from your hands to open it already.

“Just talked with your new coach, Tyler. It seems you have a track record with finding amazing coaches.”

Already Wanda didn’t like him. She kept quiet about her disdain, knowing how important it was to you that Tyler doesn’t come to contact with a terrible one as you had.

It grew difficult. Each practice he always seemed to find you, drawing out a long conversation with you. Usually it’s fine, as a coach herself she understands the important of keeping up with the families, but this was excessive. The constant parade of compliments directed at you were unnecessary. He wouldn’t really care to talk to Tyler, and as far as she knew, Wanda didn’t exist around him. He’s either dumb, or he’s choosing to be ignorant towards the intimacy between you two.

What brought her to the edge was when he began to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or the back of your waist. It was in moments where it could’ve been excused; done to either move you out of the way or make sure you don’t trip.

You were sweet, engaging in a conversation he had started yet again down at the end of the bleachers. Wanda had her attention set on Tyler skating around before practice, eyes flickering to where the two of you stood every minute.

“I have a conference this weekend and we’re allowed to bring a plus one. Would you be interested in joining me?”

“Oh. I already have someone that I’m going with. So I won’t be going with you, but I will see you there.”

He looks disappointed, eyes shooting to meet Wanda’s, “I’ll see you there then.”

Wanda doesn’t like that man.

You walk up the stairs all sweet-like, sitting beside her and placing a kiss to her cheek, “when’s that coach award event again?”

“Saturday, 7PM.”

You hum, leaning your head on her shoulder, “you better win an award.”

“If not, I have you.”

An elbow shoves into her side, “you’re such a sap.”

“No, I just love you,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against yours, feeling like she’s won when she catches the coach looking. She had hoped the soft public display of affection would be enough of a sign to back off, but it wasn’t.

The weekend came soon enough. Wanda standing by the door with her keys in hand as she waits for you to join her.

“Beautiful,” she says when you step down, opening the door for you.

“I hope you win one award, that would be amazing.”

“It would look great for my public imagine,”she laughs at the look you give her, “you know I don’t care about that, love.”She gives your thigh a squeeze before backing the car out of her apartment complex.

She should’ve known he’d be stuck to you most of the night. Wanda tries to engage in the conversation, but he tunes her out, keeping his attention on you. Ever so sweet you try to include her, smiling back at her but this time it’s not enough to quell how she’s feeling.

“Hey Micheal, can you go grab her another drink?”

“Wanda, I can’t—“

She shuts you up by pinching at your waist, cutting your sentence off. He looks mildly annoyed, “sure.”Once he’s turned around, she’s guiding you out of the room.

“Wanda there’s only like sixteen minutes until the ceremony—“ your mouth goes numb when you realize where she’s walking you towards. There’s a closet at the end of the hall, tiny and small as its only purpose is to hold supplies for the janitors. Tonight it will be used for another matter.

“That’s enough time,” she says lowly, shutting the door behind her, enclosing the two of you in darkness.

She’s lifting you with her hands under your thighs, dropping you down onto the extra school desk stored away in the room. Her body’s leans into you, hands on either side of your body as she kisses you passionately. They turn messy, trailing from the corner of your lips to end up on the bottom side of your neck. You gasp when she bites down, a hand reaching to push at her chest.

“Wan—wait.”

She doesn’t listen, too focused on making your neck show an array of purple marks. You whine, squirming in her hold as she leaves one after the other, stopping only on areas that you’re sensitive to. She’s severely quiet, attentive to every heavy breath and sound coming from you. You’re weak, arms wrapped around her neck, head pressed into the wall behind you. You’ve completely given up control, neck tilted back to give her more room.

“Oh—” you shiver when she moves towards the spot behind your neck. Your reaction gave her another reason to press her lips against it, nipping at the skin there.

Her ministrations leave you wet, your hips grind down onto the desk below you to try to seek relief. Wanda coos, cold fingers sliding under your dress, finding the wetness between your thighs. You cry out when she thrusts two in, pushing through your tight walls. It’s intoxicating, the wet sounds filling the room, turning you on even more.

“Ah! Wands—you—“

She’s shushing you, lips on yours to keep you quiet. Her fingers are splitting you open, angling perfectly towards the spot that makes your back arch. Her thumb catches onto your clit with each thrust, brushing perfectly to make you see white. You weave your fingers into her hair, moaning into her mouth when she bites at your bottom lip.

You’ve completely forgotten about the event, and most importantly, Michael. You’re clenching onto her finger, arousal covering her hand and dripping onto the wood below you. You choke on a moan when she’s guiding you to lift your left foot onto the desk, the position spreading you open to allow her fingers to push deeper. The bottom of your dress slips up, clothing pooling around your waist. You feel your orgasm build, a series of whimpers spilling from you.

“Fucking say my name when you come,” she demands, holding back moan when she hears your strangled whine after she brought her hand down onto your thigh. The way your cunt squeezes around her fingers then makes her weak.

“Like that?”

She’s cocky, hand coming down harder on that same spot.

“ah! wands please—“

Your body jerks after her fifth slap, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. She nuzzles against your head resting on her shoulder. You relaxed into her hole, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

It was fine until wanda carried you into the bathrooms to clean off and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, easily spotting the splotches painting your neck.

You leaned over the sink to get a better view, eyes snapping between the marks; the one by your ear, another under the strap of your dress, one more at the base of your neck. You weren’t aware of the severity of her actions in the moment, your mind was too busy trying to deal with the fuzziness spreading throughout your body.

“Was that okay,” she asks from where she stands by the entrance.

“Very,” you mumble, looking back to her with a smile.

“Hey, I want to apologize. I knew something was wrong,” you say, grabbing a paper towel from the machine, “he was a jerk to you. Like just earlier he wasn’t letting you get a word in, but I really just thought he was being nice at first.”

“You’re fine, love.”

You wet the towel, rubbing warm water over the cloth to get it wet, “you say that but I still feel bad.”

She crosses the room to grab at your wrist after seeing what you were doing, “why’re you trying to rub the marks off?”

“Because?”

She raises an eyebrow, “because? What?”

“This is your event, I don’t want you to loose your job over me.”

“I won’t,” she tosses the towel away, “I knew what I was doing when I gave you those.”

“But the staff—“

“There’s enough of them screwing around.”

“Oh.”

She huffs, hooking a finger under the hem of your dress, drawing it up your thigh until the red, swollen marks on your thighs from where she was aiming her hand earlier begin to show. You hate how affected you get by the sight of them, thighs squeezing together.

You were only meant to be gone for ten minutes. That was the original goal, but she began to fold with how you were looking at her. Your eyes were dark, locking onto hers from within the mirror. She had you pinned to the counter in seconds, forcing you to watch how easily you melt under her touch.

Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, getting closer to where the two of you stood. You had begun to push back, mumbles on how she needs to stop so they don’t get caught, but it’s like she knew. You caught on later, realizing it was Micheal by the sound of his voice calling out to you.

“Wanda, he—“

She’s slapping a hand over your mouth, pulling you back against her chest. You look over your shoulder, finding Micheal freeze after entering into the room. Wanda had you in a position only he could dream of. He was like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he processed what he was looking at. The marks on your body, eyes glossy and faraway even as you look in his direction. The muscles in Wanda’s arm flex as she presses her hand tighter against your mouth. You’re absolutely dripping, excitement pooling from the behavior this man was bringing out of her.

“I was worried… but I see you’re.. okay.”

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Micheal?”

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanida m.list

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