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#With his nerd suspenders
great-cats · 2 years
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I put all their profiles on one canvas and tried to make their heights work
look at those nerds
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anto-pops · 2 months
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We all talk so much about Sebastian pursing a career as an Auror or as a Professor but I just got hit with the overwhelming desire to write about him as an Archivist working for the Ministry. Bookworm Sebastian surrounded by historical records and ancient tomes ?? Unrestricted access to all that information ????
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buckttommy · 2 months
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he's so messy, i'm literally sitting her giggling and kicking my feet. i love it
guy who is literally covered in mess: i've never been messy in my entire life actually. how could you think that. being a family man is sexy btw
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hairmetal666 · 10 months
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The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.
It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:
"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."
His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.
"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.
"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."
He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.
---
The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.
---
The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.
Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"
"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.
Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."
Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.
"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."
The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"
"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.
Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.
"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.
"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.
"This is really good, Will."
Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"
"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"
"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"
Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"
"Really?" Their eyes light up.
"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."
"Cool," says Dustin.
He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.
Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.
"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.
He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."
"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.
"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.
"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"
"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"
"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"
"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."
They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."
The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."
Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.
---
He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.
---
His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.
"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.
"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.
He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"
She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."
He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.
"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."
"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"
They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."
El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."
"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.
---
Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.
Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."
---
He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.
Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).
"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"
"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"
"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.
Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."
"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.
"What's wrong?"
"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."
"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.
He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"
And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."
"What?"
"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"
"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."
Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.
"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."
"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.
"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."
"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.
"Um. Yes?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"
"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.
---
Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.
Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"
"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."
"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."
"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"
Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.
Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.
"It's not funny!" Steve says.
That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."
Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.
Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.
"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.
"What, like, make them think they failed?"
"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."
Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"
"Why don't you get over here and see."
As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.
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simpxxstan · 29 days
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Nobody Else (jww oneshot: part 1)
pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader
genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst, fluff in part 2
summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?
chapter word count: 13k
warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!
a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.
hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. part 2 coming soon ^^ do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!
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You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo. 
Objectively speaking, no. 
Subjectively speaking, not at all. 
You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd. 
So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months. 
After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did. 
It was all a part of the act, you knew that. 
It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this. 
Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug. 
Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate. 
But never enough. 
“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”
He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue. 
His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”
“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.
“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”
“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”
“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?
From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you. 
“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.
You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you. 
“Do you need help?”
You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself? 
He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care. 
“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”
“But you just wore lipstick?”
“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him. 
“Well, how do I look?”
His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort. 
“They’ll love you.”
You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.
“They always do.”
_
And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain. 
Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong. 
But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!” 
And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds. 
Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find. 
He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing. 
“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye. 
“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in. 
“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”
You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”
“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.” 
You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.” 
“Rich of you to say so.”
You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.” 
“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories. 
You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else. 
_
The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up. 
It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life. 
But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life. 
_
It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.
Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn. 
“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?” 
And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep. 
Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name. 
And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man. 
And you had liked it. 
That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.
Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. 
You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house. 
“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”
“The chauffeur was there.” 
“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago. 
“Are you sure?”
His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.
“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward. 
“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”
“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”
You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”
“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious. 
“What are your terms?”
_
You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks. 
No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows. 
_
You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.
“Hello?”
“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”
The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.
“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”
“I can get my own. See you there.”
He cuts the call. 
What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-
“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?” 
“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time. 
Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve. 
“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”
Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office. 
_
Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city. 
You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.
There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there. 
“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”
Fun. 
As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day. 
“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”
“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”
_
They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough. 
“Will you never leave me alone?” 
He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”
“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”
“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”
“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”
“Hmm-”
The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you. 
“What did you say?” You whisper to him. 
“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”
“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous. 
“For dinner.” 
You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”
He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”
“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”
“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable. 
“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”
“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”
“I regret nothing.”
“We’ll see.”
_
“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”
“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis. 
“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.” 
“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”
“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”
“You won’t come along?”
“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”
Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”
“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
_
“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”
You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening. 
You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works. 
“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.” 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”
You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”
Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss. 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-” 
“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.
Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”
Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.
“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.” 
Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”
“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise. 
“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”
“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.” 
“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”
“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.” 
Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”
_
At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right. 
“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”
You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display. 
“You came. I knew you’d come.”
“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down. 
“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.” 
“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”
“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”
“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.” 
“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”
You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.” 
“I want to fuck you against this railing.” 
You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him. 
“What?”
“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard. 
“Aren’t there cameras?”
“Will pay for them to be turned off.”
“That’s probably illegal.”
“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”
You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination. 
“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly  gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk. 
You shake your head.
“Say it.”
“I want it too.”
“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?
“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.
“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.
“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip. 
“Sir please!” 
“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”
“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”
He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you. 
But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels. 
It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck. 
Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.
“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 
“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.” 
You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.” 
That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.
_
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly. 
Fuck. 
What have you done?
“How late am I?” 
“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.” 
“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.
By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.
After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles. 
Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again. 
Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?
_
Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure. 
After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to. 
You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself. 
It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only. 
Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure. 
“It’s one of those nights, huh?”
He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant. 
“How’s work treating you?”
“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?
“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?
“Come here, princess.” 
That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same. 
“Hmm, low sugar.” 
Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly. 
As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on. 
“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt. 
It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with). 
You wonder why he’s so happy. 
But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well. 
“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him. 
He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in. 
“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty. 
“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”
“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” 
“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once. 
“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this. 
“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”
He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.” 
“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.” 
“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.
“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”
_
The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you. 
You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate. 
Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes. 
Your shirt is ripped again. 
You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands. 
“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”
He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”
“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”
“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”
“Wonwoo!” 
“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”
His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.
“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”
“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”
“This arrangement has to stop.”
He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-
“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s not-”
“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”
“Wonwoo-”
“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.
“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms. 
“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-” 
“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”
His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter. 
“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like  a you problem, like why-” 
You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away. 
“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.” 
He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”
You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him? 
“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?” 
You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?” 
“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?” 
You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?” 
“Darl-”
“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”
“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”
You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too. 
You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister. 
“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”
“No. Why? Are you coming over?” 
“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”
“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?” 
“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.
“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand. 
“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place?  Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!
“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”
“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions. 
“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones. 
“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.” 
You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.” 
“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”
_
Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin. 
“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products. 
“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.” 
“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice. 
It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone. 
“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks. 
“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.
“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes. 
Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.
“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.
“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”
Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”
“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table. 
You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?” 
“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.
“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing. 
“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”
“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”
“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”
“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”
“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”
You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”
“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”
That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.
“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”
Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”
Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair. 
“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.
“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”
“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty. 
“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know. 
Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.  
_
Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.” 
You sigh, and nod your yes.
_
a/n: see you in the next part!!!!
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squoingycritter · 6 months
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the costuming in npmd is fucking genius
and i don’t mean the lords in black (although i could absolutely rant about how great their costumes are). i mean the “nerdy prudes” themselves.
peter’s outfit is reminiscent of a classic “nerd” outfit. but there’s a reason he dresses like that, one that the character has. and then he changes to a sweater in place of the bowtie and suspenders- because of steph. he still dresses like peter, but his outfit compliments hers more.
i love richie’s outfit- the patterns, the horrible layering- i knew kids like this growing up. and the hair? the sort of greasy, bedhead, scraggly hairdo. it’s just 🤌🤌
ruth’s outfit is nice- clearly they understood the assignment of how a queer person dresses (/lh)- but her whole display is ignored, the audience’s eyes immediately drawn to the head gear. just like the characters, we first see what’s “weird” about ruth.
i don’t have much to say about grace. she’s very put together, very neat. the pastel blues and pinks representing her softness innocence. also the butterflies clips in her hair slowly dwindling in numbers. that’s a good detail.
steph is very cool and alt. the cropped fleetwood mac shirt, the combat boots, the flannel- she understands the trends in fashion. but she makes it her own
TLDR; i fucking love costuming details
Edit: I made a part 2 about the lords in black, please hype it up bc i crave validation 😍😍
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solaireverie · 2 months
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cl16 | lost in a film scene
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summary: [ charles leclerc x f!actress!reader — social media au ] 
sometimes fantasy becomes real life. up-and-coming actress y/n l/n never thought she'd find love when shooting her newest movie, which incidentally involves formula 1, but charles leclerc is determined to sweep her off her feet.
— requested
faceclaim: simone ashley
author’s note: hi there!!! thanks so much for requesting ♡ idk how movies work so suspend your disbelief please lol. i hope that you enjoy this!!
[ masterlist / guidelines ]
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89,123 likes
hollywoodupdates Universal Pictures has announced that yourusername will be playing Lila Gallagher, one of the main characters of a highly anticipated motorsports film that will be released next year.
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user ugh i hope they actually represent f1 properly...
↪ user i heard that some of the drivers are involved so it should be okay!! 🤞
user y/n is gorgeous as usual 😍 can't wait to see her slay this role
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liked by jacobelordi, raye, charles_leclerc and 23,392,341 others
yourusername monaco grand prix with slipstreammovie 🏎 ❤️🤍 glad to be back in the paddock again
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user what's charles doing in the likes 👀
↪ user he was the one who invited her lmaooo
↪ user wait fr???
↪ user yep 😂 and he still had the audacity to play coy the entire time and act surprised when he saw y/n in the ferrari garage
user i really appreciate how y/n and the rest of the slipstream are genuinely trying to learn more about f1 and motorsport, can't wait for the movie! 🙌
liked by yourusername
user everyone say thank you to y/n for serving everywhere she goes
charles_leclerc enchanté 😉
liked by yourusername
↪ danielricciardo that's my line???
↪ user scratch that what's charles doing in the comments 🤨
charles_leclerc has added to their story
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yourusername has added to their story
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seen by blakelively, charles_leclerc, sabrinacarpenter and 3,492,591 others
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charles_leclerc added to their story
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seen by yourusername, pierregasly, landonorris and 4,129,592 others
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liked by charles_leclerc, jacobelordi, slipstreammovie and 52,128,392 others
tagged: slipstreammovie
yourusername and that's a wrap on slipstreammovie 🎬 i'm so excited for you to see the results of our blood, sweat, and tears — in theatres march 2024 🏎💨
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charles_leclerc 👏👏👏
↪ yourusername 💗
↪ user oh my god???
user can't wait 😍
jacobelordi how was karting? 😂
↪ yourusername fantastic, thanks for asking 😌
↪ charles_leclerc if you call shunting it into the walls three times in your first lap fantastic, then yes it was
↪ yourusername french gp 2022...
↪ charles_leclerc okay fine! i never said anything 🥲
↪ user i don't know what's the best part of this conversation 😂 jacob indirectly confirming that karting wasn't a slipstream cast event, which means that y/n went separately with charles, charles teasing y/n, y/n becoming a f1 nerd, or y/n being an absolute savage
user hoping she's actually dating charles omggg
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391,128 likes
hollywoodupdates yourusername has arrived on the red carpet for the slipstreammovie premiere! It seems that she's also brought a guest in charles_leclerc, who has been rumoured to be dating the actress since they met at the 2023 Australian Grand Prix. Could this be the confirmation we've all been waiting for?
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user i mean y/n just called charles her partner while talking to an interviewer so i guess it's true 🤯
↪ user she did?
↪ user yeah! i think the quote was "i'm really happy to have my partner with me today, especially since he helped me so much with finding the nuance in my role"
↪ user the racers who are also in love 🥹 idc that y/n is only a driver in the movie she'll always be a 2-time world champion in my heart
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liked by yourusername, joris__trouche, slipstreammovie and 48,293,102 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc beyond proud of you, mon amour ❤️ you'll always be p1 in my heart
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yourusername what if i'd rather be on pole position? 😏
↪ charles_leclerc there are children on instagram, y/n
↪ charles_leclerc but anything for you 😉
user I CALLED IT 🫡
user they're such a gorgeous couple 😵‍💫
user love how they're obsessed with each other... me core fr
user when's it gonna be my turn huh @ god 😒
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads
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tenelkadjowrites · 11 months
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Wallflower - Part One - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
PART TWO HERE.
🌻 Summary: Having not given much thought about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, all of that changes when you hear a rumor about his sexual prowess in bed. 
🌻 Word count: 13k
🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. reader is drunk at one point. smut. some dirty talk. fingering, oral sex (reader receiving)
🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.
this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
               “Sorry, I know I’m late,” You say with a huff, plopping down in the chair, clutching your coffee in one hand.
               “What kept you?” Your coworker and friend asks, glancing at the time on her phone, “We got here ten minutes ago.”  
               “Sir Dipshit was busy boring me to tears about the sales numbers for this week,” You reply with an eyeroll, “What did I miss?”
               It’s Thursday afternoon as well as your lunch break. As usual, your group of work friends met at the coffee shop across the street from the office. Sitting outside on the patio, the sun high in the sky with a light breeze, it would be a perfect day if you didn’t have to return to work soon. Sometimes, being inside all day at that desk is a bummer…more often than not recently, it’s been an incredible bummer.
               “Nothing much, we were just complaining about the usual,” Your other coworker says before taking a sip of her green tea.
               It is a daily event to go to the coffee shop at lunch and complain about everything – your coworkers, the corporation you all work for, the daily tasks. It is a ritual, something that gets everyone through the day, including yourself although lately it hasn’t been helping as much as it used to.
               “We have that office ‘party’ this weekend,” You remind them which elicits a series of groans among the small group, “And Sir Dipshit made it pretty clear it’s mandatory to attend.”
               Your boss, otherwise known as Sir Dipshit, lived to work and worked to live. The man had no existence outside of dedicating his entire life to a corporation that wouldn’t care if he dropped dead tomorrow. The last thing you felt like listening to was a lecture for the next twenty years about missing the event. It ended up being less pain just to suffer through it.  
               “At least the booze is free,” One of your coworkers points out.
               “Remember last year when that guy in senior management drank way too much and threw up on the bar counter? I live for the moments like that at these events,” Another coworker sighs wistfully, “It’s so funny plus gives everyone something to talk about Monday morning.”
               At that moment, someone cuts across the street, heading towards the coffee shop. You recognize the person as Seonghwa, who is technically on the same team as you although he works on the tech side. You say ‘technically’ because you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him on one hand.
               One of your coworkers leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, “Speaking of things to talk about on Monday morning, guess what I heard about the resident nerd?”
               Confused, you glance over at Seonghwa who is almost at the door to the shop. Today, he wears a white button up shirt with black suspenders, matching slacks and shoes. His glasses are almost comically oversized, black frames that rest on the bridge of his nose that seem too large for his face. The wind is messing up his sandy blonde hair which he keeps trying in vain to smooth down as he walks over.
               “Someone is talking about Seonghwa?” You say doubtfully, “What is there to talk about?”
               Seonghwa is the biggest nerd you’ve ever met and it isn’t just the suspenders and the large glasses that give you that belief. His desk is littered with the sort of items you’ve always associated as nerdy and he’s always reading some gigantic book based off some sci-fi or fantasy thing. He also works in software and coding or something which means you never understand what the hell he is talking about most of the time during work meetings and tune him out.
               “Oh, this is a good one, trust me.”
               Seonghwa notices the group then and gives a small wave. Everyone halfheartedly waves back as he goes inside. You really doubt the rumor is going to be anything interesting. Seonghwa seems relatively harmless and you’ve given him such little thought over the past two years working near him that you doubt anything could suddenly make him interesting.
               But your gossipy coworker looks positively gleeful as she goes, “You remember how there was that big conference everyone in tech had to attend two weeks ago? They all flew out for it?” When you and the others nod, she continues, “Well, apparently Seonghwa hooked up with one of the regional IT managers.”
               You raise one eyebrow. “Okay, and? The most surprising thing about this is that Seonghwa is getting laid.”
               At this, one of the other coworkers speaks up, “Seonghwa is a nerd but he’s good looking. That’s not really surprising.”
               “I can’t tell if he’s good looking cuz his glasses are gigantic,” You fire back, “I didn’t realize there were people sitting here who wanted to fuck Park Seonghwa.”
               Everyone breaks into bickering at this remark until your coworker with the gossip speaks up loudly to silence everyone. “Okay, shut up please. I am not finished!” Once all attention is back on her, which she is clearly enjoying, she drops her voice to a whisper. “Anyway, Seonghwa hooked up with one of the regional managers after that big party they have on the last night of the conference. She said she figured why not because she’s a regional manager on the other side of the country so she didn’t have to worry about awkwardness in the work place –”
               “Can you please get to the point sometime this century?” You interrupt.
               She shoots you a scowl before saying, “She said not only was Seonghwa the best fuck she ever had but apparently he has a gigantic dick.”
               “Bullshit,” You counter immediately, “No way.”
               This creates another round of bickering about if Seonghwa could really be the best sexual encounter of someone’s life. You are steadfastly against the idea.
               “What about the trope about nerdy guys with big dicks?” Your gossipy coworker argues.
               “That’s fanfic shit,” You fire back, “Maybe this manager has just one or two other people she’s slept with so Seonghwa is the best out of a small sample size.”
               “Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ and dicked her down so well she could barely walk right the next day.”
               “Yeah, sure,” You scoff, “I’m not saying she didn’t sleep with him but maybe she’s…jazzing the encounter up to make a good story.”
               It is then that the subject of the gossip exits the coffee shop. Seonghwa gives the group another small wave and this time looks perplexed when everyone bursts into giggles as they return the motion. But he continues back to the office, holding a coffee in one hand. You watch him go, shaking your head.
               “Sorry, I just don’t believe it. A wallflower like that being some dynamo in bed? No fucking way.”
*
               Back at the office, you glance at the clock. An hour until I can get out of here, you think. It wasn’t that you hated your job, it was just that it was super fucking boring most of the time. But the money made it worth it – at least that’s what you told yourself when the alarm went off in the morning and you wanted to hide under the blankets.
               Idly, your eyes scan the room, landing on Seonghwa’s cubicle. Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ and dicked her down so well she could barely walk right the next day. You scoff quietly before pushing away from your desk, wandering over to Seonghwa’s cubicle.
               He is studying something on the computer screen, slightly leaned forward with his back towards you. Your eyes look over the small space. There are some things you recognize – little decorations like small lightsabers – but a lot of things that you have no idea what they are from or what they represent. His cubicle is incredibly tidy, organized with each personal item displayed at such a way that makes it clear he has decorated the space for himself and not to send out a certain image to his coworkers. Cubicles, the original method of creating a carefully curated image to put out into the world before Instagram, you think dryly.
               You hover there, wondering why the hell you came over here in the first place. But before you can leave, Seonghwa must sense someone standing there because he looks over his shoulder. At the sight of you, his eyes widen slightly and he swivels in his chair.
               “Ah, sorry! Were you waiting there long? I didn’t hear you say my name.” He ducks his head apologetically.
               “It’s fine,” You reply curtly, “I was just wondering if you were attending that work party this weekend. I’m trying to get a head count,” The lie comes swiftly and easily without much thought.
               Seonghwa pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You study him for the first time, trying to see past the glasses, his messy hair and the dorky clothing. Seonghwa has always been slender, and tall, with almost a fragile delicateness to him. You’ve never given him much thought until now.
               “I plan to be there, yeah,” He says and then smiles brightly, “Are you going too?”
               “I am, yeah,” You grumble, “Anyway, thanks.”
               “You’re welcome!”
               You turn around, walking away from his cubicle. No, that didn’t clear up anything at all.
*
               As soon as it hits five, you shut the computer off and grab your bag, anxious to get the hell out of there. Sometimes, the office just felt so…small and suffocating. You wanted to get out immediately. Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you hastily walk towards the elevator. Half of the floor is doing the same with a few people staying late.
               Seonghwa is one of those. As you slow down your walking speed near his cubicle, you look in his direction. Seonghwa is turned to the side, flicking through a folder filled with papers. He looks focused, brow furrowed, as he tries to find something. His work lanyard sways slightly and his tongue is poking out a little from between his lips. He runs his fingers through his hair, paying no mind to how messy it already is.
               There is just no fucking way that rumor is true, you think again, frustrated with yourself for spending so much time mulling it over today.
               By the time you make it to the elevators, you have resolutely told yourself to put it out of your mind.
*
               “Do you want to go grab coffee?”
               “Girl, it’s ten in the morning. Little early for a break, you think?” Your coworker says in mild confusion.
               “Yeah, I guess so,” You mumble, “Didn’t realize it was that early.”
               “Anyway, I gotta finish up this TPS report this morning or Sir Dipshit is gonna have my head,” She pats you gently on the shoulder, “But we can grab coffee later, alright?”
               She walks past you quickly, already lost in thought. You stand there for a few seconds before turning around to head back to your cubicle. Seonghwa is walking across the room, heading towards the giant copier near the window. Today he has a light blue button up on with khaki slacks although the large black glasses still remain. Someone passes by him, saying good morning and Seonghwa looks up, smiling and returning the greeting.
               How can he look that happy here? You wonder, And how are his teeth so perfect looking? That’s something new you’ve noticed – his incredibly white teeth whenever he smiles.
               Before you can ask yourself what the hell you’re doing, you walk towards him. He doesn’t notice you at first, too busy fumbling with the copier that barely works properly on a good day. But when you get close enough, Seonghwa looks up.
               “Oh, good morning,” He says brightly, “How are you?”
               Something about his energy, his welcoming posture and his smile makes you feel exposed in some odd way.
               “I don’t want to be here,” You say automatically without thinking and then grow deeply embarrassed at your confession, “Sorry, I – hm. I shouldn’t have said that. That’s weird, right? I don’t know – I don’t know why I said that.”
               Seonghwa studies your face for moment and then replies, “No, it’s okay. Would you like to go to the break room with me and get a coffee? I forgot to have a cup before I came in.”
               Leaping at the excuse to not sit at your desk, you nod. Seonghwa glances at the copier and shrugs, giving up on making it work. You trail after him, wondering why in the world this rumor has made you seek him out yet again and why you just openly admitted to a relative stranger that you don’t want to be at work right now. I must be so fucking bored, you think.
               Walking a little bit behind Seonghwa, your eyes study the way the fabric of his shirt rests against his skin before looking at how his belt lays against his small waist. You try to imagine him fucking someone into the mattress but your mind comes up blank. The rumor being about this man in particular just doesn’t make sense.
               In the small break room, which is empty due to the time, Seonghwa begins to brew a pot of coffee, chattering the entire time. “I stayed here too late last night and I’m having a hard time getting going this morning. But I am hoping to finish this project before the weekend so I can move on from it. I feel like I’ve already spent too much time on it and I’m going to fall behind.”
               You sit down at the tiny break room table, making a small noise to indicate you’re listening.
               “I won’t have time to work on it this weekend because I had to move my plans around for that work party. Originally, I was gonna have my DnD session –”
               Confused, you speak up, “Your what session? What’s a….Do Not Disturb session?”
               This brings Seonghwa up short and he turns around, peering at you through his glasses. “No, my…Dungeons and Dragons session. You know?”
               You don’t know. You think you may have vaguely heard the name in the past because you have a mental image of people hunched over a table looking at a board game. It must show on your face because Seonghwa quickly keeps going.
               “But now it got moved to Saturday afternoon so I can make it on time which meant everyone else had to rearrange their schedules. Boy, I still haven’t heard the end of it.” He pours two cups of coffee, glancing over his shoulder, “Do you want cream and sugar?”
               You tell him your preference and he continues, “But the boss made it clear he’s gonna be pissed if we don’t go so I kinda feel like my hands are tied.” Seonghwa stirs your coffee and brings it over, resting it gently on the table before turning back around to make his. “I don’t really like work parties. I am not really a party person.”
               “You don’t say,” You retort dryly, unable to imagine Seonghwa at a club at all.
               He finishes with his coffee, sitting down across from you. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. He smells like clean laundry. There isn’t a single wrinkle in his shirt. Everything about Seonghwa is a mixture of nerdy and professional.
               “Sorry, am I talking too much? I get told I’m a chatterbox.”
               “You’re fine. I don’t have anything interesting to say anyway, honestly. I just…didn’t feel like working this morning, I guess.” You look down at the cup of coffee, wondering why you feel increasingly uneasy at your job as of late.
               Seonghwa falls silent for a moment and when you look back up at him, he averts his gaze quickly, clearing his throat. “It’s the routine. Gets to all of us. That’s why our free time is so valuable. You have to make it worth something to remember life is more than just…this.” He gestures to the surroundings. “You know, this is the most I’ve talked to you, I think. I know our jobs are pretty different so we don’t overlap a lot though.”
               You hunch your shoulders forward, blowing on the coffee. Some part of you just wants to ask him – hey, I heard a rumor you’re a great fuck and I don’t understand how a thing could be possible. But that would be out of line so you keep it to yourself. You doubt Seonghwa is even aware such a rumor is going around about him.
               Seonghwa’s smart watch beeps then and he looks at it before mumbling a curse under his breath. “Sorry, I forgot I have a call I need to be on in five minutes,” He stands, “But I’ll see you around?”
               You are staring at the way that his long, slender fingers are curled around the disposable coffee cup. Were his fingers always that…dainty?
               Seonghwa says your name and it snaps you out of your staring, looking up at him. “Right, yes. I’ll see you around. Thank you for the coffee.”
               “It’s no problem,” He gives you a small wave, leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts.
*
               If there is one thing you’ve been increasingly disliking lately, it’s your job. The second thing? Staying late for the job. It is ten minutes past five and the anger you feel sitting at your desk while listening to Sir Dipshit is enough to make you shriek.
               You aren’t even sure what he is talking about. It began as a lecture about some e-mail you missed this morning and has now turned into a diatribe about his own day and how busy he is.
               You are trying to pinpoint when your job started feeling like a weight around your neck. You make good money. You work for a major corporation that offers job security. You have your own place. Everything is neatly lined up. But blurting out to Seonghwa, of all people, that you didn’t want to be here this morning has made you start to really think. And you aren’t sure that you are going to like the answer.
               As if conjured up by thinking about Seonghwa, he pops out of his cubicle with his bag, getting ready to leave for the day. As he brings his bag strap up around his shoulder, his shirt tightens for a split second against his chest. You blink, wonder if you just hallucinated how the fabric pulled against hard muscles. Seonghwa looked like he could be shoved in a body of water and his wet clothes could take him down. Thinking there was some hot body underneath all those clothes is just you creating things out of boredom.
               His eyes land on you and he gives you a small smile. Sir Dipshit is oblivious, still going on. You’ve made making sounds of interest while not hearing a single word an art form at this point. To your surprise, Seonghwa walks over to you, nodding his head over to Sir Dipshit.
               “Hey, I’m really sorry to interrupt but its ten minutes past five and I need to discuss something with her on the way out today,” He makes an apologetic face, “Sorry boss, I hope that’s alright.”
               Sir Dipshit looks mildly startled as if being woken up out of a deep sleep. For fucks sake, even his brain goes on auto pilot with boring everyone to death. You aren’t about to turn away a rescue and quickly get out of your chair, grabbing your bag swiftly.
               “Oh yeah, that’s right. That thing –”
               “Right, that thing,” Seonghwa says, nodding vigorously.
               “The thing with that call tomorrow! Yeah, let’s talk about that on the way out. Have a good night, sir,” You shoot this at your boss before turning around to walk out as quickly as possible to Seonghwa.
               “Alright, uh, good talk!” Sir Dipshit calls out after you, “See you tomorrow at the party!”
               Your back is to your boss as you rapidly press the elevator button. The doors glide open and you hurry inside as Seonghwa follows who immediately presses the button to shut the doors on the slim chance the boss wants to follow. He waves jovially until the doors shut.
               “Thanks,” You say, “Was it that obvious I was trapped?”
               “I just know how long he can talk for.”
               “Nice touch there with the ‘ten mins after five’ thing.”
               “Yeah, figured I would slide that in there and remind him the work day was technically over although honestly, I don’t think it stuck.”
               “Probably not but I still appreciate it. Can’t stand how much Sir Dipshit talks.”
               Seonghwa laughs at this, “‘Sir Dipshit’?”
               “Oh, you haven’t heard that one? Yeah, it’s just what we call him.”
               “I’ll have to keep it in mind.”
               Seonghwa smiles at you, the sort of smile that feels as though you are standing directly underneath the summer sun as it warms your skin. The elevator doors open and the two of you walk across the main entrance hall of the building which still has a few people buzzing around.
               “You park in employee parking?” You ask him, “What spot are you?”
               “Oh, my place is close enough that I bike to work,” Seonghwa replies as he slides his bag straps onto his shoulder so it is now a backpack, his thumbs slipping underneath the straps as he holds onto them.
               The sight of him in such a pose makes you think of those movies in which the nerds always walk like that. The only thing he’s missing is some tape around the middle part of his glasses. It strikes you once more how Seonghwa is just so not your type. Maybe the regional manager in Wherever the Hell city went for nerds like him but not you. No wonder she thought fucking him was the best sex of her life – Seonghwa is a walking nerd stereotype.
               “Oh,” You say, mostly because the idea of biking to work seems so foreign of a concept, “I have to drive like twenty minutes or so to my place. You don’t have a car?”
               “I do! It’s just…a gigantic piece of shit so I try not to drive it too much. Trust me, my bike is safer most times,” He replies, holding the door open for you.
               “Thanks,” You say, stepping out into the evening air.
               The sun is dipping behind the city skyline which makes you feel wistful. It seems like such a shame to spend all day inside.
               “Well, I should head out now. I wanna pick up this new Lego kit that got released today. It’s of an Imperial Star Destroyer and I placed a preorder on it months ago.”
               “Legos? Like those…building kits? With the blocks?”
               “Yup,” He says cheerfully, “I love building Lego kits. It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.”
               Reflexively, you glance at his hands wrapped around the straps of his bag. You swallow hard, feeling weird for some reason.
               “You uh…like keeping your hands busy?” You say and immediately regret saying something that could be perceived as flirting.
               But Seonghwa seems clueless to any potential interpretation and just nods. “Yeah, I also like painting those miniatures for DnD, you know?”
               You absolutely don’t so you just give a non-committal nod. You picture him painting a tiny teapot or something, a look of avid concentration on his face as he worked, the tip of his tongue poking out as his long fingers hold onto a small brush.
               “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night,” He says, nodding his head at you, “Have a good night.”
               “Yeah, you too.”
               Seonghwa turns around, walking confidently down the sidewalk to the other side of the building where his bike must be waiting. You watch him as he goes, taking note of how his legs take long strides and people subtly move out of his way. Once he is gone out of view, you slowly make your way to your car, unlocking it and sliding into the driver seat. You stare at nothing in particular, wondering why you feel the way you do. It’s a mixture of dread at the work event tomorrow, anger that your little time away from the office is spent with people from the office, and something else that you cannot pinpoint.
               It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.
               “You’re really losing it,” You say aloud to yourself and start the car.
*
               The rain smears the lights of the bar, distorting the building into a dark, grey smudge. You have delayed going inside for ten minutes now, struggling to motivate yourself into yet another ‘team event’. A few years ago, you didn’t mind these things. They were a bit dull but still manageable. But now, you can’t ignore the pit of dread in your stomach at spending more time around people you already spend too much time around.
               With a small intake of breath, you get out of the car, scurrying quickly to the overhang before you can get too wet. Then, as if preparing yourself for battle, you exhale slowly and open the door.
               You’ve arrived an hour late, something that you know Sir Dipshit will take note of, but it proved an impossible feat to get there on time given your mood. Your band of coworkers notice you immediately, waving you over.
               Your eyes scan the crowd as you walk over, greeting them. It is too early in the night for anyone to be drunk yet and so the air is stiff, slightly formal, with top 40 pop radio playing a little too loudly.
               “Fuck, you’re so late,” One of your coworkers says, “We were just wondering if you were gonna blow it off.”
               “And I said you wouldn’t because Sir Dipshit would never let you live it down. And also that if you didn’t at least tell us you weren’t coming, we would be pissed.”
               “Right,” You reply, not listening very much at all.
               “Hello?” Your gossipy coworker waves her hand in front of your face, “Who are you looking for?”
               “What?” Startled, you look around at the table, “I wasn’t looking for anyone. Just was seeing who was here.”
               “No one interesting, if that is what you’re hoping,” chimes in one of your coworkers.
               “Although,” Your gossipy coworker leans forward, lowering her voice, “Seonghwa is here tonight and I’m bored enough to want to see if the rumors about him are true.”
               “He’s here?”
               Your coworker motions in his direction with her drink. You follow to see Seonghwa at the bar alone, nursing a water. No one is talking to him but he doesn’t seem to mind much. He’s idly bobbing his head to the music while checking something on his phone.
               Tonight, he’s wearing…are those yellow suspenders? You groan inwardly. His shirt is also a very pale yellow with small blue buttons. His pants are a soft grey, a belt looping around his waist with his shirt tucked in. As usual, his hair is a bit of a mess. He looks like a total dork, you think dismally.
               “Looking tragic as usual,” One of your coworkers remarks with a giggle, “Please tell me you’re not actually going to try to have sex with him.”
               Your gossipy coworker shrugs. “I mean, that rumor is pretty alluring. Maybe his nerd act is just a front and there’s something nasty lurking underneath.”
               Your brain flashes back to him making you coffee in the break room, not minding it was ten in the morning or the fact you had blurted out that you didn’t want to be there. You suddenly are bored of the conversation and bored of talking about Seonghwa as if he is unauthentic.
               “I’m gonna go get a drink,” You murmur, leaving the table and all their discussions of Seonghwa and what he is like in bed behind.
               To your chagrin, Sir Dipshit sees you and waves you over. In no mood to talk to him, you wave back, pretending that you don’t understand he is trying to beckon you. At the bar counter, you order something, mentally calculating how much time you can spend here before leaving and not hearing any complaints from either your coworkers or boss.
               As you wait for the drink, you idly glance down the bar. Seonghwa is all the way at the other side. Someone is talking to him although you don’t recognize who. He seems engaged in an easy conversation, his shoulders relaxed. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and leans back against the bar counter. The shirt tightens against his chest and upper arms –
               Okay, you’re not hallucinating. Seonghwa definitely is in shape judging by the muscles pressing against the fabric. You swallow hard, your eyes trailing down his stomach to his waist.  
               She said not only was Seonghwa the best fuck she ever had but apparently he has a gigantic dick.
               “Ma’am?”
               Snapped out of your thoughts, you turn your attention to the bartender who has clearly tried to get your attention multiple times. Mumbling an apology, you take the drink. Your cheeks feel a little warm so you take a swig, liking the way it burns on the way down.
               You are looking for your gossipy coworker, wondering if she was really going to try to sleep with Seonghwa. For some reason, the idea of having to listen to her talk about it makes you wanna scream and you aren’t even sure why. But the growing crowd has swallowed her up. Why do I give a shit if she has sex with Seonghwa? I barely thought about the guy until that rumor anyway.
               “Hey.”
               The voice startles you, lowering your gaze directly in front of you. Seonghwa stands there. Up this close, the lights of the bar lay across his skin as if cozying up to him. He still is holding onto his water, his long fingers circled around the cup casually. You swallow, looking away from his hands.
               “Oh, hey, Seonghwa,” You try to think of something to ask that isn’t tied to the rumor about him and his big dick, “How was your…uh what was it again?”
               “DnD?”
               “Yeah, that.”
               “Well, the group was still upset we had to shift the time back and the session was cut to six hours.”
               “Six…hours?”
               “Yeah, we usually aim for…maybe eight or more, depending. Enough to make good progress in the campaign.”
               You have absolutely no idea what the hell he is talking about so you just nod.
               “Hongjoong, oh sorry, that’s my best friend, well, we were supposed to do a dungeon today and he was upset cuz we didn’t finish it like we hoped cuz San’s bard got cursed so that sorta derailed everything.”
               “The bard got cursed,” You deadpan.
               “Yeah, Yeosang didn’t roll high enough so we got sidelined by dealing with that. But I mean, that is just part of the campaign right? It’s Jongho’s first time being dungeon master and he’s spent weeks putting this whole thing together. We weren’t sure how it was going to go because typically Hongjoong is the dungeon master but Jongho really wanted to try it.”
               You have understood exactly two or three words the entire time Seonghwa is speaking but you are actually kinda relieved to be talking about something that has nothing to do with work. Taking another swig of your drink, you think of a question so Seonghwa will keep going.
               “Do you do this every week?”
               “Oh no, it would be too hard to try to have everyone’s schedule sync up weekly. There’s eight of us, after all. So sometimes a couple times a month – that’s what we shoot for.”
               “Oh there you are,” Your coworker interrupts, slinking up with their empty glass, casting a glance over at Seonghwa before looking at you knowingly.
               Their expression makes you feel defensive although you can’t pinpoint why. Flustered, you say, “Was just getting a drink.”
               “Hi Seonghwa,” Their smile is slow and lazy across their face, “How are you?”
               If Seonghwa has any idea as to why they are acting odd, he doesn’t show it. He just smiles in that bright way of his, greeting them by name. Your nerves are buzzing underneath your skin and you gulp down the rest of your drink before turning to the bartender, motioning for another one.
               “Wow, making sure to take advantage of the free bar,” Your coworker quips in a tone that you mislike – in fact, you are starting to question your friendship with everyone in this entire building.
               “You know it,” You mumble although your coworker doesn’t hear.
               Seonghwa, however, does, and the look he shoots in your direction makes you feel as if he is rooting around in your brain and seeing every dreadful thought you’ve ever had.
*
               Two hours later, you are drunk.
               It is a mistake and you know it. You’ve never gotten drunk at a work function before. It’s unprofessional, for one, and secondly, drunk people at work parties tend to always make asses out of themselves.
               But wow! It made talking to everyone so much easier. The mundane conversations about work slide through your brain like a lazy river in which you mentally bob in. Your coworkers, who are rehashing the same gossip they have all week – which unfortunately means more discussions about Seonghwa’s sexual prowess in bed – are pleasant hummings in your ear that you steadfastly ignore.
               At some point, you have found a quiet corner that is near the bathrooms and the back exit. Slumped against the wall, you close your eyes as the floor wobbles unsteadily underneath your feet. You’re going to have to either Uber or ask for a ride home from a coworker. Neither sounds enticing but since you can’t drive, it’s your own fault. Surely, two hours is enough time here. Sir Dipshit will be too swept up in the drunken dancing that has started on the dance floor since everyone is now feeling intoxicated enough to embarrassingly do that in front of one another.
               “Fuck, there you are. I’ve spent ten minutes looking for you,” Your gossipy coworker has suddenly appeared, ruining the solace of the spot you’ve found, “I’m bored and heading out. I tried talking to that Seonghwa guy a couple times and it’s like listening to paint dry. No sex is worth that. Are you coming with me? You clearly can’t drive,” You’re staring at your shoes and don’t reply. Your coworker huffs, “It’s really not like you to get plastered at these events. You’ve been acting so weird for months now.”
               “Sorry,” You mumble although some part of your brain is annoyed that she is bringing this up now when she is well aware that you’re not sober.
               “It’s fine, whatever. Just make sure you get an Uber or something, alright? We can get your car after work Monday.”
               You hear the click clack of her heels as she saunters off, leaving you alone again. You’re feeling sleepy. It tugs on your brain like an annoying child. If the world stopped spinning for half a second…well, until then you will stay right here.
               You aren’t sure how much time actually passes but someone’s shoes come into view next to yours as you stare at the floor. Surprised, you raise your head and find yourself looking at Seonghwa. A new song kicks up, with a heavy bass that seems to thrum up along your spine and into your brain.
               “Seonghwa,” You mumble, blinking a few times to make yourself appear less intoxicated.
               It doesn’t seem to work because he goes, “Hey, are you alright?”
               For some reason, lying to him doesn’t enter your mind. “No. Also, I’m drunk.”
               “I sorta gathered that,” But there is nothing mean in his words, it is just merely noting a factual observation.
               Your hazy gaze focuses on Seonghwa. He appears to be perfectly sober. You recall him drinking water earlier. Good idea. You should have done the same. Now, a headache that is thumping in time to the music is beginning to grow louder. Your eyes drop down across the curve of his neck to his shoulders down to his small waist and you swallow, closing your eyes for a moment to banish whatever the hell is going on with you.
               “Excuse me,” Someone says, storming past the two of you to head to the bathroom, colliding into Seonghwa as if he isn’t even there and pushing him towards you.
               But your reaction speed is terrible, slowed by the alcohol and when your hands go to his abdomen to stop him from colliding, it is like an electric current snapping all the way to your thighs. Seonghwa is extremely close but there is no booze scent clinging to his clothes. And to your utter shock, the skin underneath your hands is firm and toned. Fuck, you think dizzily, see, I wasn’t making it up. But it didn’t matter if Seonghwa was fit or not – he just simply is not your type. You barely understand what he’s talking about most of the time.
               He says something then but the music is too loud as is the rushing of blood to your head. His lips move, lips that are way too pretty and plump, by the way, not that you care, and you shrug, unable to hear what he is asking. He looks inquisitive but you’re distracted by how lithe and slender he is. Too pretty! Not your type! You scold yourself.
               “Do you wanna dance?” You blurt out, cutting whatever he is saying off.
               His eyes widen through his thick frames. Your hands are on his waist now and the two of you are almost pressed against one another. His cheeks are slightly flushed with just a hint of colour and when he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs. He replies but you give a frustrated shake of your head.
               “I can’t hear you!” You shout, probably way too loudly.
               Seonghwa leans forward, centimeters from your body. He is bringing his face towards your neck and your heart skips a beat so intensely that for one drunken second you worry it’s going to pop out of your chest.
               “I don’t really dance,” His voice seems to fill up your entire brain, taking over every sense you have, the cadence of his speech making your head swirl.
               You think about the rumor about him and for the first time, maybe because you are drunk, allow yourself to wonder if it is actually true. There are lots of stereotypes about nerds – and not just that they have big dicks like your coworker said. There is the stereotype of them being virgins, fumbling around with no knowledge as to what to do. You just assumed Seonghwa belonged in that group from the little interactions you’ve had with him.
               But if you were wrong…
               When he pulls away, his face is near yours. He looks shy and when he glances downward, you know he is looking at your hands on his hips. You wonder if he is hard, wonder if you pulled him against you if you’d feel his big hard dick against your thigh. Your eyes flick to his hands, nervously flexing at his sides. Without the sober shield filtering out the thoughts you’ve been trying to steadfastly ignore since the rumor landed in your ears, you think about how fucking long his fingers are and how they’d feel buried in your cunt. For someone who isn’t your type, it sure is difficult not to want him.
               Seonghwa pulls away then, tugging on the collar of his shirt for a couple of seconds. Your hands fall away from his body, his absence like a bucket of cold water being dumped on your head.
               “You’re drunk,” This sentence is loud enough to hear – although is it directed at you or a reminder to him?
               “I heard a rumor about you,” Your words are slurred.
               “About me?” He says incredulously and then goes, “Should I call you an Uber?”
               “Is your shitty little car here? Can you drive me home? I don’t…” It’s so difficult to concentrate in here. “I don’t feel safe being drunk in an Uber. I feel safe with you.”
               The admission would take you by surprise if you weren’t spending a ton of energy in trying to stand upright. You’re so tired and the booze is tugging you downward.
               Seonghwa looks taken aback but he nods. “Yeah, I drove here tonight. I’ll take you home.”
               “Thank you,”
               He glances at the crowded bar and gives a small shake of his head before pointing to the back exit. “Let’s go this way.”
               You slur out some sort of affirmative answer as Seonghwa carefully leads you out into the night air. The fresh air makes your head spin and for a split second, you worry about throwing up. Luckily, you keep it together and Seonghwa takes you safely around the side of the bar towards his car.
               “Wow, what a piece of shit,” You remark at the sight of the rust bucket.
               “‘She may not look like much, kid, but she’s got it where it counts’,” Seonghwa recites as he unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you.
               Swaying on your feet, you go, “Are you quoting something at me?”
               “It’s from Star Wars. Well, episode four, specifically.”
               “Right, I knew that. I saw that one. I think.” You manage to get into the car without making a complete ass of yourself.
               Seonghwa ducks his head inside to bring your seatbelt across from you, buckling it in securely. Some of his hair falls in front of his face while doing so and you can smell the faint hint of jasmine.
               “You smell good,” You mumble, “What shampoo is that?”
               He chuckles softly, pulling away and closing the door, walking around the car to slide into the driver’s seat. His car is clean even though it’s so old that it has a CD player. It also vibrates a lot as if the engine is trying to escape.
               You rest your head against the back of the seat, so tired that you are going to doze off any second. Synthwave music plays quietly as Seonghwa snaps in his own seatbelt.
               “What’s your address? Hey, don’t fall asleep yet on me.”
               You tilt your head in his direction, opening your eyes. He is looking at you with his fingers curled around the steering wheel. You wonder what it’d be like to sit in his lap. You wonder what noises he makes when he is turned on.
               "I heard a rumor about you,” You say again sleepily.
               “Yeah, you mentioned although I don’t know what anyone has to say about me. What, do they say I LARP or…still use IRC or something?”
               “Dunno what either of those are.”
               In the darkness of the car, the lights from the radio and CD player dance across Seonghwa’s skin. You want to pull on his suspenders when you ride him. Your thighs clench. You can’t recall a time you’ve been this horny recently and it’s over the nerdiest guy to ever work in the office. Something is totally wrong with you, as confirmed by your coworker earlier in the night.
               Seonghwa angles his body towards you, one hand still on the steering wheel. “Then what is it?”
               A very tiny logical part of you is trying to get yourself to shut up. But the much larger drunken part of you is not thinking clearly, is not even thinking ahead a little bit at all so you blurt out, “There’s a rumor going around that you’re really good at sex.”
               Seonghwa’s eyes widen so large that you might as well fall into them. It’s too dark to know if he is blushing but he turns away from you, staring out the front dash of the car.
               Oblivious to whatever he might be feeling, you continue, “And also that you have a big dick.”
               “W-what?!” He exclaims, still unable to look at you.
               “Right? That’s what I said. I said…no way! No offense.”
               He is silent, mulling this over. In fact, you are almost half asleep by the time he replies carefully, “That’s why everyone is talking to me this week. I was wondering why…I just thought…I don’t know what I thought…” He sounds almost dejected and it makes you feel sad. “I mean, including you.”
               Suddenly feeling ashamed, you try to say something but the words come out garbled because your drunken brain doesn’t jive well with the sudden panic that hits you.
               But Seonghwa shakes his head, brushing the word salad to the side. “You’re drunk so we won’t talk about it now.”
               You go quiet as does he. The silence seems to stretch into infinity. You want to apologize but he isn’t wrong. You did start talking to him because of the rumor. Maybe that makes you just as bad as your gossipy coworker debating having sex with him. But then you think once again of the kind way he made you coffee, and the fact he had you exit the bar from the back so everyone wouldn’t see how drunk you are. You weren’t lying when you told him that he made you feel safe. But you’re just too drunk to try to formulate any of that into words.
               Your eyes close, losing the battle against sleep. You are distantly aware of Seonghwa asking for your address again but it’s too late and you drift off.
*
               When your eyes open next, they are looking at an unfamiliar ceiling, your head is throbbing and your mouth is so dry that your tongue is stuck to the roof of it. With a small groan, you sit up slightly, trying to remember what the hell happened and where you are.
               You’re in someone’s bed which would be alarming if you weren’t still completely dressed in your clothes from last night. The only thing missing are your shoes since you spot your large purse next to the closed door. The bed sheets smell clean and you aren’t even under the covers, just laying unceremoniously on the top. There is a dresser on one side of the room that has a familiar looking robot built out of Lego parts resting on the top.
               It’s the sight of Legos that bring a whole slew of memories back to you. The drinking, your coworkers discussing Seonghwa – oh God, Seonghwa. You recall the way he looked, how he felt so close to you, him offering to drive you home and then –
               You groan again, burying your face in your hands. Fuck, I told him about the rumor, my big drunk mouth. He had looked crestfallen, hadn’t he? He must have assumed the random uptick in people talking to him this week had been for a reason but not for that…
               Including you.
               The words he uttered bounce around in your head, the guilt sliding around in your stomach like disgusting jelly. For a split second, you think you’re going to vomit because of the hangover but manage to hold things down. Very carefully, you swing your legs out of bed and stand up, closing your eyes as your head throbs painfully.
               Stopping only briefly to look at a bookshelf in the corner that had the largest and nerdiest assortment of books possible, you open the bedroom door and step out into the living room.
The living room is just a tidy space, clean and comfortable. The window shows the blue sky and the tops of trees, indicating you’re not on the ground floor. There is a stack of books on the glass coffee table. A large PC is near the window with three monitors. Another small table near the front door has a low hanging light over it, littered with paints and miniatures alongside multiple Lego boxes on a smaller shelf.
The couch has a pillow and a blanket on it. Another stab of guilt hits your chest. He had given up his bed for you.
               You hover in the doorway, taking in the fact that the living room is somehow exactly what you expected and not at all.  Slowly, you walk across the space towards the kitchen where you find Seonghwa. He is making coffee and looks up at the sound of you entering.
               “Hey,” You say quietly, “What uh…time is it?”
               “It’s a little past ten. So, not too late. Would you like some coffee?”
               “Would it be alright if I took a shower? I don’t want to impose. It just helps with the hangover.”
               Seonghwa is in an oversized Star Wars long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. His socks have odd looking dice on them that you don’t recognize. His large glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as usual. It’s the first time you’ve seen him wearing something other than business attire.
               “Sure, let me just get you the towels. Uhm, would you like some clothes? I can dig out some older clothes of mine, if you’d like.”
               “Yeah, thanks.”
               A few minutes later, Seonghwa is handing you towels, a large black shirt with a faded design on it (from a video game, he explained) and sweatpants. You rummage around your purse to dig up your emergency Stayed The Night makeup bag. This was the first time you were using it after just sleeping over at a guy’s house and not having sex with him. But you’re glad it’s in there since it has toothpaste, a small toothbrush and some other items you need.
               It’s always a gamble going into any man’s bathroom, and it is with a tentative push of the door that you step inside. However, just like the living room, it is clean and organized. Seonghwa even has actual skincare products by the sink. The shower is clean with high end shampoo, conditioner and body wash (also all in separate bottles!).
               Underneath the hot water, you wash off the night before. You wash off avoiding Sir Dipshit, you wash off the fact you feel disconnected from your coworkers, you even wash off your gossipy coworkers remark about how you’ve been different.
               But you can’t wash off the expression your drunken brain still remembers when you told Seonghwa the rumor. And you can’t wash off the way you felt around him last night when you asked him to dance nor the thoughts you had about him. You haven’t been that turned on around someone in so long. It’s cuz you were drunk, you argue with yourself. Seonghwa just isn’t your type.
               After the shower, you dry off, finish cleaning up and change into Seonghwa’s clothes. The shirt is soft, well worn, baggy on your frame and the sweatpants are a little long. But they smell nice and are comfortable. You stare at yourself in the mirror, running your fingers over the fabric. I need to make things right with him. He’s a nice person and he’s been kind to me and now he thinks I only started talking to him because of the rumor.
               And to make matters worse, that’s the truth.
*
               Seonghwa is sitting on the couch, two cups of coffee perched on the table. He has a book open in his lap, reading quietly. Tentatively, you sit down opposite him, reaching for the coffee while peering at the cover of the book. It’s some Star Wars book. It looks older than you expected, well worn, and there’s a man has blue skin with red eyes on the cover.
               “Thanks for letting me use your shower…and your clothes. And uh…for getting me here safely. And for taking me out the back way so no one saw I was being a messy drunk.”
               Seonghwa rests the book next to his coffee, picking up the cup and taking a small sip. The silence is starting to feel awkward now and you wish he would say something.
               So, you decide just to leap into it. “Listen, about what I said last night. About the ah…. rumor.” Your cheeks feel warm from just mentioning it. You never thought you’d actually be discussing this with him.
               Seonghwa’s hands wrap around the cup as he looks shyly down. His lashes are long, longer than when you spend too much on an overpriced mascara to try to get the same effect.
               “Can you…explain how you heard something like this about me?” Seonghwa asks quietly, his cheeks turning slightly pink.
               You push through how awkward this is going to be and tell him the entire story of how your coworker mentioned it over coffee. By the time you are done, Seonghwa has turned a deep crimson, his coffee long forgotten after being placed back on the table because he is so embarrassed. Silence hangs in between the two of you for a minute or so. You don’t press him to speak, figuring he deserves some time to sort out how he’s feeling about the entire thing.
               “It’s true that I went to the conference and slept with that regional manager. I figured since she lived across the country, it wouldn’t really matter,” He squirms uncomfortably, “I didn’t think she would talk about it and I certainly didn’t think it would spread all over the office. I didn’t know why there was an uptick in people talking to me this week. I didn’t ever dream it could be tied to…that. When it came to us…I guess I thought…uhm maybe you and I were becoming friends.”
               You feel a pang in your chest and move closer to Seonghwa, trying to salvage the conversation. “We are friends,” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know they’re true. Maybe the two of you are very different but Seonghwa still makes you feel safe and seems to see you in a way that everyone else is missing.
               But he looks doubtful. “But you only started talking to me because…” He glances at you only for a split second. “Were you trying to…I mean…you and I…” He trails off, wringing his hands together.
               You stare at his hands, swallowing. No, you’re not my type. I was curious but there isn’t any attraction there, is what you want to say. The words would be so easy. A quick band-aid over a situation that has gotten out of hand.
               “That explains last night. Before we left,” He mumbles bashfully, “I thought maybe I was reading too much into it but you wanted to dance and…” He can’t finish his sentence again but you don’t need him to; you still clearly can recall how it felt to be that close to him and all the lascivious thoughts that popped into your head. You also can’t deal with the fact Seonghwa was worried he was reading too much into it when you were obviously all over him.
               You feel stuck. To tell him that you hadn’t thought about him in that way last night would be a lie. But to tell him would be admitting aloud to yourself that Seonghwa, the nerdiest guy you’ve ever met, is someone you’re attracted to. You’ve been protesting the entire time, to your coworkers, and to yourself that Seonghwa isn’t your type and you don’t see him that way. But…
               You feel nervous which is strange because you can’t recall the last time you were nervous around someone you found attractive. But Seonghwa, who seems to be as fragile as fine china, is in your hands at this moment. One wrong move and you’re going to drop him and make things even worse.
               “Well…uh…usually, you know, I don’t go for the…nerdy type.” Would he be insulted by that? “I was curious because I couldn’t picture such a thing. Like you…being like that. In bed. With the…you know.” You gesture vaguely, unable to mention his rumored big dick again now that you’re sober.
               “Right, yeah, of course,” He says quickly, too quickly, “I get that. And I know what people are like when drunk. Not thinking clearly.” Seonghwa looks as if he wants to flee which only makes you talk faster.
               “But you were so nice to me. With the coffee. I’ve been…struggling with work lately.” That puts it mildly. “And you were there when I needed someone. And I wasn’t…lying. Last night. When I said that I feel safe with you.”
               He looks a little more comforted by this, enough that he is looking up at you through those long lashes.
               “But I also…You know…uhm…” You trail off, unsure how to word the next part. Seonghwa looks at you curiously. God, it would be so easy to lie and let him believe I was just drunk last night and that was the end of it, you think.
               In fact, any regular person would leap at the lie and use it as a cover. But Seonghwa is still wringing his fucking hands together and you keep watching his fingers and you can’t believe it but you think you’re getting wet again – and this time you can’t blame booze. His entire posture, a mixture of tense and awkward, is strangely endearing. You quickly wonder what he would sound like in bed again and then try to banish the thought.
               You’ve been quiet for so long that Seonghwa gently goes, “You were saying?”
               But you aren’t really sure what you’re saying. Naturally, that means you keep going. “I do…wonder. If…maybe you’d want to…as friends…with benefits. Because like I said you’re not my type but my body seems to be like…reacting to you…ever since I heard the rumor. And I want to know if the rumor has merit.”
               Wow, amazing. Fantastic speech. Not only were most of your sentences unfinished but you basically asked Seonghwa to have sex with you just to see how your body responds like it’s a science experiment.
               Seonghwa is turning red again. His voice is slightly hoarse when he replies with, “Are you – ah. Are you asking to have sex with me? As friends?”
               “Y…yes.”
               Seonghwa’s breathing quickens and he looks away for a moment. You immediately want to crawl in a hole and hide.
               “I’m sorry,” You say hastily, “I don’t know what’s come over me. I tell you we’re friends and then immediately ask you for sex after offending you with some ridiculous rumor.” Your hands grip your knees, bracing yourself to stand up and to get out of here as quickly as possible. “Listen, I’m going to get my stuff and go. I’m just gonna Uber back to my place, don’t worry about it –”
               Seonghwa’s hand suddenly rests gently on top of yours. The touch knocks the breath out of your lungs. You stare at the sight of his long fingers extending over yours, his hand warm against your skin.
               “Okay,” is all he says quietly.
               Hardly daring to look up from the sight of his hand, you lock eyes with him. He is still blushing but looks resolute.
               “Uhm,” You exhale, “Sorry, I’ve never started a sexual encounter like this before.”
               “Me either,” Seonghwa shifts nervously and then says, “How about I just kiss you and if you like it, we can keep going? If you don’t feel anything, then it’s just the rumor clogging your head.”
               “S-sure.”
               Seonghwa carefully raises his other hand up towards your cheek, brushing against your skin with the back of his fingers. You shiver at the small touch, staring at him as he shifts closer to you. Acutely aware of how utterly surreal this is, you can only look at him as he cups your cheek. He grazes your lips with his thumb and your lips reflexively part at the touch. Your entire body feels as if it is tingling.
               You try to tamper down any expectations when Seonghwa leans forward to kiss you. You’re expecting the kiss to be awkward and messy in that unskilled way. You are waiting for him not to know what to do with his tongue and just roll it around in your mouth. Then, you’d tell him thanks but the rumor obviously had taken over your mind and it is better to remain friends without benefits.
               But then Seonghwa’s lips do touch yours as you close your eyes. It is a jolt to all your senses, white noise in your head as he kisses you so gently at first that you could imagine the touch. Your breath catches, heart rate accelerating as the kiss continues. His hand resting on top of yours gives a small squeeze, his other hand trailing to the back of your neck.
               You can feel yourself melting into the kiss, the tension seeping out of your body as Seonghwa’s tongue slips inside your mouth. There is a heat blossoming in your chest as your thighs clench. He trails small circles against your skin on your lower neck, making you shiver. Your tongue is against his now, your hand moving upwards to grip the front of his shirt, crumpling the Star Wars image up in your fist. He makes a small noise that only spurns you on more. You pull on the shirt so that he is closer, sliding into his lap, straddling him on the couch.
               Something drives you forward with reckless abandon, throwing caution to the wind and replacing it with desire. Seonghwa seems to mirror your feelings, his hands moving to your lower back, wiggling underneath the shirt to touch your bare skin. He presses down slightly, pushing you against him.
               You can feel the bulge in his sweatpants now and with a jolt, you think that maybe the rumor about the size is going to be true. Your hands are in his hair, his soft blonde locks curled around your fingers as the kissing continues.
               Your hangover is now a distant thought; making out with Seonghwa seems to be a miracle cure for a headache. Instinctively, you grind your hips against his bulge and he inhales sharply. His hands move to your ass, gripping the tender flesh there in his hands in a silent urge for you to keep going. You rock your hips against him, your pussy soaking wet. So much for just a kiss, you think dryly, marveling at the way your body responds to Seonghwa.
               His phone suddenly rings, jolting you a little by the noise. He glances over at it – it is on the kitchen counter – and gives a small shake of his head.
               “Ignore it,” He mumbles and you don’t mind doing that at all, resuming the kiss easily.
               The phone falls silent. Seonghwa’s breathing is heavy, mingling with your own, and kissing is becoming not enough. You want more and when he begins to kiss down your jawline and your neck, you reach behind you to take one of his hands and bring it forward, guiding him underneath the band of your sweatpants.
               He doesn’t hesitate now that you’ve given silent permission. You’ve been thinking about his hands ever since the rumor made you turn attention towards him and now Seonghwa presses his palm against the front of your underwear as his lips find yours again.
               You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. When the kiss breaks, you take in the sight of Seonghwa, breathless, his chest rising and falling quickly. His cheeks are tinted pink and his eyes are wide behind his large frames. You think about the times you’ve taken note of him in the past – a couple seconds of walking past him quickly in the hallway, not paying any attention because he came off as such a wallflower or zoning out when he talked in a meeting because you never could understand what he was saying and it made you feel stupid and insecure, and even the couple of times you giggled over someone making a joke at his expense. And now here you are, in his lap, with his hand against your cunt and every nerve in your body screaming for him. Jokes on me.
               Seonghwa pushes your underwear to the side, his fingers probing your folds as he leans forward and kisses you again. The sensation of his fingers touching you is making you dizzy. From this angle, it’s too difficult for his fingers to enter you which is about the only thing in the entire world you want at this moment.
               Muffled because of the kissing, you mumble, “Will you – your fingers –”
               To your surprise, Seonghwa smiles for a second against your lips. You pull away, just enough to see his expression. “What?” You ask.
               “Nothing, I just…I noticed you looking at my hands a lot the past few days.”
               Now it is your turn to feel embarrassed. “Oh, I…” You don’t really know what to say. It’s difficult to think when all you want is him.
               “Here, sit next to me,” He pats the space next to him and you slide off his lap.
               Seonghwa then gets on the floor in front of you, reaching upwards and sliding your sweatpants off your hips, leaving you in just your underwear and his borrowed t-shirt. He brings two fingers to the front of your underwear, pressing down on the fabric. “Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ.” Your coworker’s words bounce around in your head as Seonghwa removes your underwear and pushes your legs open so that you’re spread out in front of him.
               It’s a bit surreal to be in Seonghwa’s apartment on a Sunday morning, sitting on his couch half naked, with him on his knees in front of your pussy. His hands grip your thighs, pushing your legs apart as far as comfortable. You stare at the way his fingers dig into your skin, wanting nothing more than to have them buried in your cunt just to see what it feels like.
               But he leans forward and very carefully, using just the tip of his tongue, he flicks it across your swollen clit. You shudder, gasping but Seonghwa keeps a firm grip on your thighs to keep you spread in front of him. He doesn’t stop, using the tip of his tongue to stimulate your clit. Your hands grip the cushions of the couch, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of Seonghwa’s tongue brushing against your nub. His eyes are closed and no matter how much your body shakes from the pleasure, his hold on your thighs doesn’t lessen, keeping you in place.
               You are cursing loudly, taken aback by just how good he can make you feel with the tip of his tongue. His pace steadily increases against your clit. Your hips buck but he doesn’t stop, his tongue expertly dancing over your sensitive nub.
               Distantly, you are aware his phone is ringing again. But he doesn’t stop and you aren’t about to bring things to a halt for a fucking phone call. You thought Seonghwa would be messily rolling his tongue around – or even worse, just focusing on your hole and wondering why you couldn’t finish. The rumor saying he could eat pussy seemed as ridiculous as all the other aspects of what your coworker told you.
               Forcing your eyes open, you look down at Seonghwa working your clit. There is something sexy about how he looks, with his eyes closed, using just the tip to make you feel this good, and his hands holding you in place. Even his glasses, usually something you found so dorky before, look good on him now.
               He still hasn’t put his fingers inside you but your climax is rapidly approaching. You want to try to tell him you’re close but speaking is impossible. All that leaves your mouth are garbled noises of pleasure and occasionally you whine out his name. Your knuckles are white from gripping the cushions and your orgasm suddenly begins, hips bucking but Seonghwa holds them down.
               Your head rolls back against the couch as the pleasure overtakes you. Your entire body tingles, skin incredibly warm. Seonghwa slows down as you cum until your hips lower back down. Only then he pulls away. Breathless, you can’t even look down at him because your body feels heavy from how intense the orgasm was.
               Seonghwa releases his hold on your thighs but quietly goes, “Leave your legs spread, I want to see your pussy.”
               It’s the first time something vulgar has left his mouth this entire time and it turns you on. Having talked to Seonghwa only a couple of times very quickly prior to this week, you never thought you’d hear such a sentence from him especially directed at you.
               Finally, he brings his fingers to your cunt, spreading your lips open slightly. “Can I ask you something?”
               You think you reply but it comes out a bit garbled.
               But Seonghwa takes it as an affirmative and goes, “Last night, when you asked me to dance…what were you thinking about?” To your amazement, he actually looks shy after asking even though he just made you cum thirty seconds ago.
               This meant you had to form words now, an arduous task given the circumstances. “I was wondering if you were in shape because sometimes the way your work clothes looked on you…and I was thinking about if the rumors about you were true. And…” You swallow, “I was thinking about your fingers and how long they were.”
               As soon as the words leave your mouth, Seonghwa slides a finger in your hole, making you gasp in both relief and surprise. He looks a bit satisfied and you realize he must have known you were thinking about his fingers and just wanted to hear you admit it.
               “What do you think?” He murmurs, “Does it feel long?”
               His finger is completely buried in your cunt and he wiggles it slightly, making you clamp down around it instinctively. Seonghwa’s eyes move upwards to look at you, taking in the sight of you whimpering and clearly wanting more.
               He inserts another finger while going, “Does it feel how you thought it would?” Slowly, he moves his two fingers in your cunt, and you can hear how soaking wet your hole is.
               You watch, entranced at the sight of Seonghwa’s long and slender fingers pumping in your cunt. Each time he pulls them out, you can see your juices smeared across his skin before he pushes them back inside. He wiggles them each time they are buried in your hole and it feels so good that you don’t think you can talk. You try to move your hips in time with his fingers but his other hand keeps your hips down against the couch.
               The phone is ringing again. You’d wish it would shut up already. Seonghwa seems too dazed to even notice, staring at your cunt swallowing his fingers.
               “Is that the sort of thing you were thinking about? How my long fingers would feel in your tight cunt?” He asks softly, “You’re really tight. I don’t know how I’m going to fit inside you.”
               The confession catches your breath because he is teasing you now, skirting around the rumor about his big dick without showing you.
               “You can barely take my fingers. You think you can take another one?”
               “Yes,” You breathe out, “I can. I can take your cock too.”
               “We’ll see about that, baby,” He murmurs and the affectionate use of ‘baby’ makes you shiver.
               Another finger dips into your hole as Seonghwa finger fucks you. His pace has steadily increased but with three fingers, you can feel your hole jammed full of him. He’s right, you are tight and you don’t know how you’d take his apparent big cock but the universe knows you’d be trying.
               Seonghwa leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit while finger banging your hole as much as your cunt allows. You groan, the pleasure spiking, your hand grabbing onto his blonde hair as he finally releases his hold on your hips. This allows you to grind your pussy against his fingers as he sucks hard on your clit. To your amazement, you know that you’re going to cum again already. He doesn’t let up on your clit or your hole, his fingers making obscene noises from how wet you are. When he wiggles them inside you, it’s enough to make your brain hazy with pleasure.
               You curse as your second climax begins. You can feel yourself gushing around his fingers, your juices smearing all over his fingers down to his palm. You’re grinding against his face, probably making a mess on his glasses too for all you know but cannot stop yourself. You’re moaning and whimpering, your head pressing against the back of the couch as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.
               Collapsing against the couch when the orgasm begins to fade, you can hardly catch your breath. Your entire body tingles. You cannot recall the last time you had someone make you cum that close together. You didn’t even know it was possible.
               Opening your eyes, you look downwards at Seonghwa. He has pulled his fingers out of your hole and put them in his mouth, tasting you. His glasses are slightly askew and messy in the most pornographic way. His tongue swirls around his fingers. The entire image is immediately burned into your brain.
               The phone rings again. Annoyed, you glare at it on the counter. “Should you answer that?” Not that you don’t want to hop on his dick immediately but the mere fact they won’t stop calling makes you worry something bad has happened and you’re keeping Seonghwa from it for your own selfish reasons.
               “I should although admittedly I don’t want to,” He replies, standing up.
               The bulge in his pants is evident and large. You hope the phone call won’t take long so you can jump on him. It’s amazing how he’s made you cum twice already but you still want more.
               He looks at his phone and frowns. “It’s work,” He directs this at you before answering, “Hello?” A long pause as someone rambles on the other end. Then, “No one else can help you with this?” More silence, more rambling from the other end. “No, I’m just…I’m in the middle of something, that’s all,” He mumbles, shooting you a glance, “Yeah, I get it. No, we don’t want that to happen. Yeah, give me an hour, alright?”
               Your stomach falls as Seonghwa ends the call and looks chagrined. “I’m sorry. I gotta go into the office. The new guy fucked up the software update push and it’s gotta go out today before everyone else comes back tomorrow.”
               You distantly remember a meeting two weeks ago about a software update but since it had more to do with Seonghwa’s side than yours, you spaced out. That had been happening a lot lately.
               Still, you suddenly feel shy and embarrassed, quickly snatching up your underwear off the floor. “Right, yeah, I get it.”
               “Let me drive you home on my way in,” He says hurriedly, scampering back over as you slip your underwear back on.
               You really don’t want to Uber after being half fucked, in another man’s clothes, slightly hungover so you accept. Seonghwa looks relieved; he is jittery like he expects you to be mad over the fact he has to go to work. He sits down next to you, looks as if he is going to reach for your hand and then has second thoughts.
               “I’m sorry again,” He says.
               You want to laugh. Seonghwa, the least likely guy on the planet, just made you cum twice and he’s apologizing? You aren’t even sure for what. You reach up for his glasses, gently removing them from his face. He looks confused.
               “You might wanna clean these before you go in,” You say quietly and he realizes the state they are.
               He blushes, nodding. “Y-yeah, good idea. Thanks.” He takes the glasses back, scurrying off to get cleaned up for work.
               You sit there, torn between confusion over where exactly this left you and Seonghwa, how a guy like him could make you feel so good, and what happens next.
               Well, you think, at least I know one part of the rumor is definitely true. He really can eat pussy like a champ.
PART TWO HERE.
🌻 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multiland - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @likexaxdaydream - @senpai-of-doom - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @pyeonghongrie-main - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @cherrypandora - @almondmilkeu - @kitten4sannie - @hwalysm - @revehosh - @mulletjoonsupremacy - @byungaji - @erensluut - @singularity777 - @hwa-whiskers - @luxvatz - @seonghwasstar - @eyesonlyformingi - @rxnexxi - @rosealie05 - @xirenex - a couple of you couldn’t be tagged so i’ll message you separately, sorry.
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atoneofconscious · 6 months
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yknow what? If Starkid got their way and nerdy prudes came out first. Paul and Emma wouldn’t have been the universal constant, it would have been Pete.
He wants his hot chocolate. He works at cinemax (they said they wanted it to be hot choc boy but Ethan being in the same scene made that difficult). He is a nerd.
we’d be rooting to see him show up in his fucking suspenders and low blood sugar not this 30 anxious mess.
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swingingthehatchetnow · 6 months
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You know what I find really interesting about Nerdy Prudes versus the other Hatchetfield shows?
In TGWDLM and BF, the events were set in motion by the lords in black. Wiggly and Uncle Wiley unleashed the doll unto the world, causing chaos and calamity. Pokey sent the meteor (? Is that what happened? bc that was Pokey's whole shtick) that caused the Apotheosis.
But in Nerdy Prudes, the events of the story were set in motion by Steph cheating on the quiz. Or by Pete agreeing to help Steph cheat. This could very much have been a timeline/universe where everything went right. Sure, 'right' means nerds still getting picked on, and Pete and Steph probably wouldn't've ended up together, but Max, Ruth, Richie and everyone else would still be alive. The LiB wouldn't have had to be summoned, and Grace would've never gotten her hands on the book.
What caused me to think about this is the scene with Paul and Emma. That scene happens on what would've been the day of the Apotheosis, evidenced by Pete being there, waiting for his hot choccy and Paul and Emma finally taking steps towards a relationship. Pete is now wearing a sweater instead of the suspenders he wears in TGWDLM because of his conversation with Steph. Paul is joining the neighborhood watch because of the increase in killings.
This means that Pete and Steph doomed their universe. And I think its interesting that this musical shows that, because its not just the LiB that have sway over if everything falls to shit
Pete and Steph: Disaster Couple Extraordinaire
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skyeslittlecorner · 2 months
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hiyaa!! can i request the king’s reaction to gabriel attempting to kill mc when they aren’t there? he does succeed in slashing their arm a bit, where mc crouches in pain while trying to stop the bleeding.
(your blog is my fav btw i love all of your stuff! <3)
First, let me be a nerd as I explain one thing, because I know that not everyone has been in the fandom from the beginning, and this fact was mentioned in the very first event. Gabriel's scythe kills on touch. It is a gift from god that even kings avoid because just one scratch means death.
I don't know if you were aware of this, dear anon, when you asked for this headcanon (if you wanted a less drastic scenario, please let me know, I'll gladly write a second one!). Get ready for angst.
(And! Thank you for kind words! You have no idea how nice to hear that <;3)
Satan reacted as befitted his sin. Wrath. Rage. Breakdown. A red, thick fog flowed into the streets, only choking the subordinates, but sweeping away the angels. They couldn't stand the mourning that poured out of him, and they died in agony as long as he held your dying body in his arms. This was the only day in the history of Gehenna when the devils lost their will to fight and their king almost followed you into the arms of death, fighting more fiercely than ever before.
You fulfilled your promise. You died to protect Hell. And he failed to protect you. Once you were buried in a beautiful, simple grave, Satan had only one thing on his mind. He promised you that he would be faithful, only yours, for millennia. And he will keep that promise. No lovers, no one-night stands. He couldn't protect you, but he can protect the one you did all this for. Minhyeok and his later children won't even be aware of it, but they have just gained a pure white, red-eyed guardian.
Beelzebub felt you dying rather than saw you. By the time he appeared at your side, it was too late. There was almost no blood flowing, but you both knew that this wound would never heal. He kissed you and whispered soothingly as you died. It was his fault. His damn eternal wandering. If he had stayed, if he had watched you better... You deserved more than being buried among his clones. You should rest with those who, unlike him, did protect you. With your parents. He will show up with your body on Minhyeok's doorstep, hoping that he will get angry and yell at him, but he will only break down in tears over your body. This is not enough for Beelzebub, this is worse than the punishment he expected. He doesn't feel worthy of attending your funeral, but he'll watch from afar anyway.
Your tombstone will always look like new, even for hundreds of years. Intact stone, fresh flowers. There are things that even Beelzebub cannot forget.
Leviathan won't let you die. No, just no. No way. Do not agree. The moment you get hurt, he will catch you in his arms. The face is colder than usual, but the voice is more soothing than ever. "Do not be afraid. You are mine, and I am not letting you go.” He will kiss you one last time and push you into his coffin. Suspended somewhere between worlds, not dead, but not alive either, you will be pushed into eternal sleep, barely remembering who you are.
Leviathan won't stop there, he has to get you back. Only god can save you from death, and if that means this devil has to find him, he will. Anything to get you back to his side. He won't agree to lose another person he loves.
This time Mammon is the spoiled one
MAMMON
The shield you raised could withstand anything - or so you thought, until Gabriel cut through it like a knife through wax. The wound on your forearm was minor. Almost invisible. Still, you stared at it in silence, dazed. You knew what that meant.
A fist sprung in front of your nose a second too late. Shooed the seraph away a second too late. Your life could have been saved. A second too late.
"Master! Are you okay?" Mammon caught up with you and grabbed you in his arms. The grogginess slowly turned into dizziness. You collapsed onto his chest, losing strength.
"He... hurt me." You whispered into his broad chest. His muscles tensed as if ready to attack, but the huge arms lifted you ever so gently. You felt like you were in a huge cradle. The consciousness that slowly drained from your body was glad that it was spending its last moments in these arms.
The king held your limp body for a long time. He couldn't say goodbye to you, he couldn't understand that he had lost you. That you already had left this Hell, and there was nothing he could do about it.
A huge mausoleum was built in the meadow where you died. Gold and silk blinded the inhabitants from afar, outshining the sun itself. Despite the splendor greater than in the palace, everyone considered your tomb to be the poorest place in the world. Mammon visited it every day. He reminded himself that he needed to protect his people better. That he should have protected you better. For the first time in his life he felt real loss.
It was here that Tartaros' greatest treasure was lost.
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improbable-outset · 8 days
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Here's a question. Miguel with so trying out Shibari(or Kinbaku, not sure on the correct name) he's half spider so those spider mating rituals have to be hard wired in right? Why not have fun with it...
Content warning: Bondage🔞
Oh anon, when I researched more about this I fell in love. Not just the sexual aspect of it but because of the visuals too. Just a heads up though, I’m not fully educated on the topic so this is based on when I’ve found online.
Firstly, Miguel wouldn’t bring up the topic until you're both completely comfortable with that level of intimacy.
He doesn’t want to put you on the spot like that especially given the fact that this could be risky if not done right. He wants to make sure you trust him enough for him to put you in that vulnerable state and to do thing’s safely.
It’s no brainer that he’ll use his own webs to tie you up (I’ve mentioned this in my NSFW alphabet) not only because it’s easier and more convenient, but seeing you wrapped up in something from his own body visually showcases that you’re his.
According to an article I read, western rope bondage entails a more functional role— basically tying someone up for the purpose of restraining. While shibari is more for the aesthetics. Like being suspended in the air and whatnot.
I think to warm things up, he’ll probably want to start off easy by tying your wrists together so he doesn’t fully restrict you just yet. Just to test the waters.
While having your hands tied, he’ll probably have you ride him with your hands behind your back. I can imagine him piston his hips, having full control while having a tight grip on you.
He’ll probably have your hands tied to each bedpost while he goes down on you too. Now that your hands are restricted, you can’t tug on his hair while pushing his face further into your pussy which will probably give him the opportunity to edge you as much as he desires.
Once you get in the swing of things and getting used to being tied up by his webs, you can take the next step tie more knots around you. One or two columns ties just to keep things simple.
This will be more for the visual appeal during foreplay, seeing tied up by him is a huge turn on.
I’ve seen images where people are harnessed. Obviously he wouldn’t go that far unless you want to. The beauty of shibari is that you can adjust and suit it to all body types.
If you do get suspended in the air by his webs, he’ll definitely be eyeing you in every angle and maybe even steal a few kisses.
Also being the nerd that he is, he’ll probably want to do it more often to “increase the level of dopamine” (his words probably) and an opportunity to appreciate your body better.
I hope my take on this was valid for you anon
I’ll go into more detail if I was more aware on the topic but it just looks so intriguing.
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[image from here]
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anto-pops · 2 months
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The Archivist - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
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Summary: Weeks after discovering some ancient tomes you're unable to decipher, you reach out to the Ministry of Magic Archives for help decoding the timeworn pages. The last thing you'd expected was for Sebastian Sallow to show up, much less for him to be so... attractive. Had he always looked like that?
Alternatively summarized as Sebastian Sallow pursued a professional career as a book nerd and also happens to be really well versed in sex.
Word Count: 6,969 (LMAO)
Warnings: 18+. aged up characters, explicit sexual content, size difference, Sebastian wearing glasses again
Up on Ao3 here for your viewing pleasure
You honestly didn’t think you’d ever thrown on clothes faster than you did the day someone apparated into your living room with a deafening crack, followed by a crash and a muffled, “Shit, ow.” 
If you were to die, you weren’t eager to do so half-naked and half-asleep. 
After hastily tying your robe around your waist and stuffing your feet in a pair of deteriorating slippers, you cautiously stuck your head into the hallway, the unruly strands of your bed head sticking to your cheeks and poking you in the eye as you assessed the situation. 
At the end of the hall you could see a stack of books scattered across the floor, along with a previously organized collection of newspapers now strewn over the top of a prone body. Said body was stirring beneath the crumpled parchment, and you bit your lip and wished desperately for coffee as you weighed your options. 
Option one: it was a murderer and you should leave immediately. The only problem was that the hallway leading to the front door was now blocked. Shit. 
Option two: it was a burglar, and if you could remember where you’d left your wand last night, you could petrify the man in place until officials came to your aid. 
Option three: it was a murdering burglar, and you might as well attempt to find out as much as you could before you wound up gruesomely cut down so you could at least haunt the bastard. 
As the concealed figure attempted to sit up, you heard another thump as something fell from above them, followed by an irate groan, and you gripped the doorway to your bedroom tightly as you managed to call out a meek, “Hello?” 
All movement and noises in the living room ceased for a moment, the air still and silent. You swore if the intruder dropped so much as a pin, you would hear it. The pair of feet belonging to the unknown man dragged along the floor as he seemingly stood himself up, and figuring that no burglar would be such a noisy wreck, you took your chances and slowly made your way down the hall to take in the damage done to your living space. 
Bizarre as it was to be so civil with someone who’d essentially broken into your home, you rounded the corner and found yourself asking, “Are you alright?” 
You were met with your potential adversary as he turned around, and you were equal parts surprised and confused to discover that it was none other than Sebastian Sallow. It had been years since you’d last seen him, the two of you having gone your separate ways after graduation as you continued hunting down ancient magic sites and he pursued a career within the Ministry. The last letter you’d received from him had come in a little over a year ago, sadly informing you that his sister had finally passed, albeit peacefully. 
To find him now standing in the midst of your demolished living room was a shock in and of itself. 
“Sebastian?” you asked incredulously, your eyes raking down his disheveled but well dressed body. He had certainly grown since you’d last seen him, his long legs accentuated by pressed slacks, and the suspenders that wrapped over his sculpted shoulders left little to the imagination. The button up he wore was just shy of being too small for his broad figure, and when you glanced back up at him, you watched as he brought one of his hands up to his face to fix his crooked glasses. 
“Hi,” he said lamely, flashing you a somewhat sheepish smile. “Sorry for the mess– I, uh– well, I think I landed on something when I popped in.” 
Your eyes flicked down once more to the toppled stacks of books that now covered the floor, and your brow cocked of its own accord as you breathed out a laugh, “You don’t say.”
Still reeling from the abrupt wake up call, you could only stare dumbstruck as Sebastian fixed his clothing and picked invisible lint off of his shirt, then offered his hand to you. “Sorry about the books. And the, uh, language. I’m here about the old tomes you found?” 
As you accepted his outstretched hand and tried not to pass out from the firmness of it, you blinked and attempted to figure out what he was referring to. “Tomes?” 
“The ones you wanted looked over?” He let go of your hand to rifle through the small satchel strapped to his thigh, and it took a herculean effort not to drool over the sheer width of his leg. Merlin’s bloody balls… you’d been holed up indoors for too long. “You sent in this consultation request a few weeks ago,” he said, pulling out a small slip of parchment decorated in your familiar scrawl, and then it all started to come back to you. 
It had been nearly a month since, but during your last excursion to Scotland, you’d come across a set of unique, fragile tomes buried deep in an ancient magic site there. As curious as you’d been to read through their contents, the text within was hardly legible, and in truth, you weren’t even sure it was written in English. In a bid to still make use of the age-old books, you had reached out to the Ministry of Magic Archives to have someone potentially aid you in deciphering the timeworn pages. After almost a month with no response, you had simply shelved them all and moved on to planning your next trip.
“I completely forgot,” you muttered, taking the paper from Sebastian to read it over. “I kind of gave up hoping that the Ministry would send someone.”
“They weren’t planning on it,” he started to say, sounding conflicted as to whether or not he should continue. “But after I got my hands on the request, I took something of a personal interest in the case.” 
Jokingly, you teased, “You hold that much sway working in the Archives?” 
“I do when I’m the Archivist.” 
“You’re the Archivist?” Your jaw dropped comically fast, your eyes wider than saucers as you processed his statement. Suddenly you were looking at your former friend in a whole new light. In your mind, you had always assumed the Ministry’s Archivist would be… well, ancient. Old and withered, graying and feeble. Not youthful and– quite frankly– hot. “How did that happen?” 
Sebastian rocked back on his heels as he stuffed his thumbs in his pockets, the very picture of modesty as he shrugged, “It’s technically my trial period since the old Archivist just died a few months ago. But yeah, I guess my thirst for knowledge and reading habits paid off. At the very least it impressed the Minister enough for him to promote me.”
Eventually you managed to pick your chin up off the floor so you were no longer gaping at him like a fish, and you bashfully tucked a particularly stubborn strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat and said, “Well, congratulations then. Glad to hear you’re doing well for yourself.”
Sebastian stared at you for a long moment before laughing softly under his breath, his hand sweeping through the front of his curly hair, “Thanks. But anyways, I can take a look at those tomes now if you’ve still got them?” 
“Oh, yeah, sure. They’re on the shelf by the couch, let me just get changed.” 
“No worries,” Sebastian said quickly, grinning widely as he moved around you further into the living room, his eyes roving over you momentarily. “I’ve got this.”
Did he just… check you out? No way, you thought, shaking the idea from your mind entirely. 
You tracked the brunet as he strode over to the cluttered shelf beside the sofa, watching intently as he moved a few books around until he found the unmistakable tomes propped against the wooden panels. With the utmost care, Sebastian carefully withdrew one of the three with delicate fingers, his touch featherlight and ever conscious of the fragile nature of the bound piece of foreign literature. As he thoughtfully deposited the book on top of the coffee table, you couldn’t help but admire how gentle he was being with it; with hands that big, you found his tender touch to be something of a contrast to his entire person. 
Shamelessly, you also found yourself wondering how those hands of his might feel against your skin. 
Beating back your lustful thoughts with a mental brick, you managed to say with an even tone, “I’m surprised you can tell what’s what in that mess of a shelf. I’ve been told I have a bit of a hoarding problem– most people can’t separate the floor from the walls.” 
“Well, I’m not most people,” he retorted, flashing you a dazzling smile from over his shoulder. “It takes a bookworm to know one. My old overseer at the Archives used to tell me I ‘had no shelf control’.”
The silence that settled over the room was utterly loud, and as Sebastian’s face took on the hue of a ripe tomato, you were fighting a grin with every fiber of your being. Your lips contorted into something resembling a downward smile while the Archivist-in-training turned back to the bookshelf, dragging a hand down his flushed cheeks as a pained groan weaseled its way out of him. “Please forget I said that. I’ve picked up on one too many library jokes in the past five years.” 
Sweet Merlin, he was dorky as hell. Please leave, excessively hot Archivist. Either leave or stay for about six hours and don’t go until I’m ready to let you.
To spare him his dignity and also because you needed to refrain from staring at his attractive backside, you spun on your heel to head into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?” 
“Please,” he sighed in agreement, sounding all too excited about the change in topic. 
“I’ve got tea, coffee, and… water,” you finished pathetically. The barren cupboards above the pantry nearly brought a tear to your eye, and you made a mental note to do some shopping later if you had the time. 
Sebastian set the second tome down on the coffee table at the same time he called out to you, “Tea is fine, thank you.” 
It took a smidge longer than normal to boil the water, seeing as you had to pause your efforts to find your wand buried beneath the piles of maps in your bedroom. Once you had it in hand, however, you whipped up two steaming cups of black tea and returned to Sebastian minutes later to hand his cup over to him. He took it graciously, plainly eyeing you up over the brim of the mug as he took a tentative sip, and your stomach flipped at the suggestive look he fixed you with. 
“I’m a little jealous, you’ve got one hell of a collection here. I almost wish I could take some of these old books off your hands.” 
“Mm,” you hummed around a mouthful of tea, swallowing pointedly. Sebastian’s eyebrow twitched minutely. “Well, I think it might be time for me to clean house a bit anyways. If you wanted to, you could always come back and take your pick of what you like.” 
His brows rose momentarily before settling, a muscle in his defined jaw ticking as he glanced between you and the tomes on the table. Then with a voice like pure sin, Sebastian smoothly said, “And what if I like more than the books?”
Shit, shit. Redirect. You fought to employ every ounce of self-control in your body so you wouldn’t just jump into his strong arms and straddle him right there, but you were acutely aware of a few facts; you looked like you had fought a Hippogriff in your sleep, you had sorely little on under your robe, and Sebastian's eyes had been devouring the noticeable outline of your collarbone for the last minute or so. Fuck. 
“Then it sounds, uh,” you started to say, struggling to form words with the broad shouldered Adonis across from you seemingly undressing you with his eyes. “Like we might be on the same page.” It was the truth– you were as interested in the Archivist as you were in the purpose for his visit– but once the unintentional pun registered, you rolled your eyes and dug the heel of your palm into one eye, swearing softly. To his credit, Sebastian just laughed, taking another hearty sip of his tea as you shyly smiled up at him. 
With more work to be done back at the Ministry and your tomes in hand, Sebastian dutifully let you know that while he couldn't stay presently, he would absolutely be coming back later that night. He followed you into the kitchen to deposit his cup beside the sink, intentionally reaching over your shoulder to set the mug down before letting his fingers ghost along the skin of your neck. Goosebumps broke out all over your body at the contact, and when you turned around to face him with the counter pressing against your rear, his hands came to deftly adjust the revealing neckline of your robe with a coy smirk tugging at his lips. 
“See you at seven,” he purred, leaving you a blushing mess in your kitchen as he stepped back, winked, then apparated away. 
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, you had bathed, gone to the market to replenish your sorry excuse of a pantry, tidied up the previously demolished sitting area, and started cooking dinner. Part of you felt like you were getting ahead of yourself with everything, but after spending the entirety of your day reflecting on the stolen glances Sebastian had sent your way and his rather telling comment in the living room, you told yourself it couldn’t get any more obvious than that. 
He had always been rather cute during your time at school, but something about seeing him grown and fully matured had ignited a fire in your veins that stubbornly stayed burning for hours. 
When he showed up five minutes early at six fifty-five with freshly washed hair and wearing a darker version of his earlier outfit, your doubts all but vanished. Clearly you weren’t the only one itching to make a good impression. 
Sebastian followed you into the living room, now noticeably cleaner than it had been earlier in the morning, and held up the bottle of wine he’d been holding at his side. “I know you’ve got tea and water, but uh. I figured why not. It’s Friday after all.”
You smiled softly and let your hands brush against his as you took the wine from him, curiously watching as his fingers flexed when his arm returned to his side. “Thank you. I take it the Archivist doesn’t go to work on the weekends, then?” 
“The Archivist in training doesn’t, but I’m sure my free time will be a commodity before long. I’m pretty sure the last one frequently slept under his desk at the Ministry Headquarters. What about you? Any drab desk jobs to speak of?” 
“Nope,” you said, gesturing to the couch as you turned to head back into the kitchen. “When I need the extra money I’ll help out Sirona at The Three Broomsticks, but for the most part my explorations and Professor Fig’s estate hold me over well enough. I’m hardly ever home anyways, so it’s not like there’s many expenses to keep track of.” 
“I see,” Sebastian huffed as he collapsed into the couch, spreading his long arms along the top of the backrest as he took in the neater state of the living room. “I’m guessing your adventuring is why there’s so many books in the first place. Have you ever thought about upsizing?”
“Hardly,” you set the bottle down on the kitchen counter and chanced a look at the man on the sofa, oddly pleased to see him so at ease in the midst of your cluttered home. “I’d much rather downsize the collection. I don’t even need the majority of what I have– I’ve read through it all ten times over.” 
He nodded, “Fair enough.” 
“Anyway, I imagined you’d be hungry, so dinner’s almost ready.” 
“Oh, damn,” Sebastian mumbled, sitting forward to run a hand through his drying hair as you flitted around the kitchen. “You didn’t have to.”
“Unless you planned on feeding yourself later, I think most shops will be closed by the time you leave,” you said pointedly, turning to hide your grin when you observed the brunet flushing bright red. Miraculously you resisted the urge to add ‘if at all’ to the end of your statement. You unearthed the corkscrew buried deep within the kitchen drawers and popped open the wine bottle, filling two glasses before striding back into the living room to hand one over to Sebastian. “Feel free to take a look at any of the books, see if any of them might be worth taking to the Archives.”
The larger man gave you a lopsided smirk as he took the offered glass and clinked it gently against yours, muttering his agreement before shamelessly ogling your retreating form returning to the kitchen. The cinched waist of your otherwise simple dress was incredibly distracting. He elected not to sift through the piles upon piles of books, opting to instead watch as you hummed to yourself and stirred something on the stove, which Sebastian was beginning to realize smelled pretty fantastic. He was grateful for the distance between you both so you couldn’t hear his stomach growling. 
Once the food was ready, you ate with comfortable conversation flowing between the two of you the entire time. You asked Sebastian what he did in his soon to be nonexistent free time, and you were surprised to hear that he had taken on the role of Feldcroft’s token handyman. In his own words, the muggle approach to fixing things was relatively therapeutic, and he loved getting his hands dirty almost as much as he loved having his nose burrowed in book pages. It explained his physical appearance, at the very least. Until now, you’d just assumed he had a habit of squatting massive stacks of books in the Archives when he was bored. 
In turn he had asked you about your hobbies, about the ancient magic sites you visited, and about living on-the-go so regularly. It was so normal for you now that you barely batted an eye at being away from home for weeks at a time, and you told him as much with a half-hearted shrug. 
Lazily, you swirled the remaining wine around in your glass, bringing it to your mouth as you murmured, “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me here, so I don’t mind it.”
Sebastian watched you intently as you finished off your drink, taking in the pretty flush decorating your cheeks and the delectable way you licked your wine-stained lips in the moment that followed. “Anything, or anyone?” 
“Hm?” 
“You don’t have anyone to come home to? No pets, no kids…” he trailed off, the rest of his question dangling in the air like a lone cloud. Your eyes fell to Sebastian’s hand as he sensually ran his pinched fingers along the stem of his own glass, and his half-hooded eyes hidden behind his glasses said everything in place of the missing portion of his sentence. 
No lover, is what you knew he was indirectly asking. 
“Do you see anyone else here?” you teased, the sides of your mouth curling into a coy smile.
“No,” Sebastian retorted, pushing his empty glass away as he sat back in his seat, amusement etched across his handsome face. “Then again, it doesn’t hurt to check. Had to make sure I was reading things correctly.” 
You perched your elbow on the armrest of your chair and balanced your chin on top of your fist casually before asking, “Was that another one of your jokes?” Hoping that you looked more confident than you felt, you mirrored his position and crossed one of your legs over the other, taking immense satisfaction in the way the brunet’s throat bobbed at the sight of your legs outlined through your attire. 
Sebastian looked puzzled for a moment before realizing what he’d said, and he rolled his eyes at the same time an airy laugh spilled from your lips. “An accidental one, make no mistake,” he moved forward to the edge of his seat, leaning forward to play with one of the folds of your dress with his index finger. “But I have been thinking about you all day, and I may or may not have convinced myself that you’re way out of my league.” 
“You should be more confident,” you whispered, dropping your hand to clutch at the one the Archivist was inching towards your leg with. His fingers immediately spread to accommodate your smaller ones, and you tugged him a smidge closer so your noses were mere inches apart. Jokingly, you taunted him further by asking, “Did you still want to look at my book collection?” 
Before you could so much as yelp, Sebastian closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and pressed his lips to yours fervently, any lingering awkwardness falling away like leaves on a tree. His free hand came to curl around the back of your neck, holding you firmly against his mouth as he angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss further, and you couldn’t help but moan against him at the brutish feeling of his broad hand holding you in place. 
He pulled away just enough to brush a tinier, more delicate kiss against the tip of your nose before he sighed, “I really don’t give a damn about the books right now.” 
A budding Archivist not caring about books? The scandal, is what you wanted to say, but then Sebastian’s lips were back on yours, swallowing your pending comment with a ferocity that had your stomach churning wantonly. Those brilliant hands of his left your neck and your hand to trail along your waist, his fingers digging firmly into the bodice of your dress to pull you towards him, and you followed his guidance all too willingly as he urged you from your seat. Within seconds you were in his lap, melting against him as he ground his hips up into yours while simultaneously using his hands to rock you against his hardening cock, and a satisfied groan emitted from him as you allowed him to move you as he pleased. 
In-between kisses, Sebastian managed to croak out, “Bedroom?” 
You barely managed a nod, too enthralled by the man under you to form actual words, and at the same time you dove back in for another heated kiss, Sebastian looped an arm around your back and the other under your ass as he stood up, lifting you with him as though you weighed nothing. Instinctively you hooked your legs around his hips, letting him haul you along to your bedroom while your hands flew to his neck to clutch at him ardently in a bid to keep your mouth glued to his. His ability to multi-task was something to compliment later on, because he kept walking and working his mouth over yours with a finesse that bordered on inhuman. 
The next thing you knew you were being thrown down on the mattress, bouncing in place briefly before you had to bite your lip to stifle a curse as you watched Sebastian fucking crawl up the bed towards you, predatory and sexy as hell. As soon as he was within reach, you grabbed for one of his suspender straps and pulled him closer, kissing him once again and moaning eagerly when you felt his hand grip at the seductive curve of your waist to squeeze before he settled on top of you. With his knees on either side of you, it was impossible to overlook the feeling of his achingly hard cock pressing down against your leg, and Sebastian groaned loudly when you tried lifting your hips to convey your impatience. 
“Someone’s excited,” he murmured against your swollen lips, grinning to himself as you worked to catch your breath. “Have you been thinking about me, too?” 
“Yes,” you gasped, your train of thought momentarily derailing when Sebastian moved so his chest was pressing against your clothed breasts, his hips flush with yours to better grind against you. “Don’t you own a mirror?”
Instead of replying to your thinly veiled compliment, Sebastian dipped his head into the crook of your neck to nip and kiss his way along your jaw with a rumbling moan, the force of his ministrations forcing your head back against the pillows. He was as eager as you were, that much was certain. As he rutted his concealed cock against your thigh, you heard and felt him shudder against you, and in an attempt to silence himself, the Archivist’s plush lips latched firmly onto a patch of skin under your jaw to suck a mark there. 
The stinging sensation of him biting down had your eyes fluttering shut, your entire being relishing in the light pain his teeth bestowed upon you, and Sebastian blindly reached for your wrist to pin your arm above your head. The dominant display had you voicing your approval in the form of a low moan, enjoying how being stretched out for him allowed for his other hand to rake down your side to start bunching up your dress. His movements didn’t cease as he lifted his hips slightly to free up the rest of the fabric trapped beneath him, and he expertly collected the material into a disheveled heap below your navel. When his dexterous fingers ghosted along the waistband of your undergarments, your next breath caught in your throat and caused you to gasp shakily. 
You felt as Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk against your spit-slick skin before sitting back on his heels to murmur, “You’re so noisy.” 
Through his lashes, he watched as a brilliant flush swept up your neck to cover your face, and you timidly tried to hide your cheeks with the back of your free hand. “S-Sorry,” you stammered, but the man above you was having absolutely none of your self-consciousness. 
Your mediocre shield was wrenched away from your face and pinned up alongside your other hand in an instant, and you blinked up at Sebastian in blatant surprise as he leaned menacingly over you. “Don’t stop,” he implored you, biting his lip as he took in the sight of you beneath him. “I love it. 
The brunet secured your wrists into one of his hands so he could drop the other one back to your aching center, swiping two of his fingers up your slit through your underwear to feel the wetness that had collected there. The sensation left you breathless, another choked gasp weaseling its way past your lips and earning a dark chuckle from Sebastian. His digits moved up to slide beneath the fabric blocking his path, and a low groan sounded from him as he felt how truly soaked you were from his efforts. Without looking away from your pinched features, he gingerly slid a single finger in, biting his lip hungrily at the way your lips parted and your head rolled to the side when he began steadily pumping in and out of you. 
When you felt his thumb begin to rub against your clit, your eyelids fluttered shut from the intense pleasure that washed over you, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “Fuck, Sebastian–”
The hand he had securely wrapped around your wrists tightened a fraction to draw your mind out of the gutter, and he roughly gritted out, “Look at me, darling– open those pretty eyes for me.” You couldn’t help but oblige him when he referred to you so sweetly, and when you cracked your eyes open once again, his body seemed to shudder with delight as he growled, “So fucking perfect. My name sounds damn good when you say it like that.”
With his gaze burning into yours and the close proximity between the two of you, you didn’t think the overwhelming euphoria you felt could get any better. That is, until he added a second finger into the mix. The initial stretch was felt only briefly before his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the persistent ministrations against your clit muting any discomfort and leaving you arching brainlessly beneath him as that hot, incessant feeling in your gut roared to life. It was tantalizing, and your hips bucked off the mattress in an attempt to chase his movements and reach the climax you were utterly desperate for. 
“Please, please,” you begged mindlessly, your desire to come so potent that it was almost painful. “Please, Sebastian, please.” 
“Already?” he tsk’d mockingly, shaking his head minutely as he eagerly wet his bottom lip and removed his thumb from your center. “I think you can hold on a bit longer, don’t you? I’d much rather end this with my cock, if it’s all the same to you.” 
The lack of friction sobered you up instantly, and the lustful haze that had clouded your mind cleared enough for you to blink blearily up at him, a small frown playing on your lips. “Really?” 
Sebastian cocked a brow at you, as though daring you to tell him he was being unreasonable. “Would you rather this end with my hands?” 
You tried to roll your hips up into his hand before relenting rather quickly, and you muttered, “F-Fine. Just hurry up, I might throttle you if I have to wait any longer.” 
Sebastian grinned wickedly at the way your back arched when he curled his fingers inside of you before torturously withdrawing them. A small sigh slipped from you when he let go of your wrists and slid away to hastily begin shedding his clothing, taking care to be gentler with his glasses as he set them down on the nightstand, and once he was wholly bare before you, the only thing you could do was stare. 
His physique was mind boggling; toned, defined muscles made up every inch of his torso, accentuated by broad shoulders that you were convinced didn’t belong anywhere near someone who worked in a glorified library of all places. His skin was sun-kissed and peppered with freckles, a testament to the aforementioned physical labor he claimed to enjoy. It hadn’t made much sense to you before when he’d told you– forgoing magic to use his own hands to help fix things. But if a habit like that gave a man a body like his, you would never doubt his preferences again. 
All of Sebastian looked positively divine, including his cock. Thick, hard, and twitching tellingly, it arched proudly against his taut stomach, the head violently red and already leaking beads of pre-cum in response to the situation at hand. You swallowed thickly when you realized that that would be inside of you, and you were suddenly grateful that he’d told you to wait. Not to discredit his fingers or anything, but you had a nagging feeling that you would enjoy his lower parts far more than his hands. 
Ignoring the nervousness that settled in your stomach, you sat up to quickly pull the sleeves of your dress down your arms, wriggling out of the attire quickly before throwing the bunched up material to the floor. As you reached down to slide your underwear off, Sebastian returned to kneel in front of you and stopped you by lightly pushing you flat against the pillows, then ran his hands along the plane of your stomach. 
“Allow me,” he said chivalrously, taking care to gently slip his fingers under the waistband and sensually remove the material entirely. With nothing else separating you from him, Sebastian took his time eating you alive with his eyes, letting his hands drag up your thighs and squeeze at your knees before pushing your legs apart so he had space to siddle forward. The blunt head of his cock bumped against your slick cunt, and a barely there shudder ran down your spine in anticipation. 
It took a good amount of self-control for you to let Sebastian press into you achingly slow, his eyes pinching shut while his teeth savaged his bottom lip, and when he was finally sheathed inside of you fully, the brunet was practically shaking with the desire to fuck your brains out. He waited, though, his palms sliding from your knees to your upper thighs to dig his fingers into the skin there, raking his hungry gaze over you while he gave you a moment to adjust. 
You appreciated the sentiment, because Merlin– he was big. It was impossible to overlook every delicious inch of him pressing against your inner walls, the subtle grinding of his hips stretching you out more and more to the point where your breath continuously caught in your throat. It felt good, though. Good enough to leave you wondering why you’d never sought him out when the two of you were still in school together. 
At some point, however, you realized Sebastian was fucking with you. It probably had something to do with the repetitive, shallow thrusts he teased you with, and when you craned your neck up to look at him, he was already staring at you with a wide grin splitting his face, his tongue poking out between his teeth. 
“W-What?” you grumbled, your hands fisting in the sheets. “Are you going to make me beg or something? I already said please.” 
“I was just enjoying the face you were making,” Sebastian said, rocking his hips just enough to leave you arching towards him. “You look like you’re trying really hard to keep it together. It’s cute.” 
“I’m flattered,” you breathed out around an airy laugh, then wriggled your hips down in an attempt to bait the Archivist into moving. Mercifully, it worked. 
Sebastian gave a throaty moan, leaning forward to brace one hand on the side of your waist while the other gripped at your thigh tighter, and he withdrew his cock languidly before plunging back in. Your breathing hitched and your head fell back against the pillows at the abrupt sensation, and the sight of you so obviously enthralled by his efforts was what expelled the remainder of his patience. 
Holding onto your thigh with bruising strength, Sebastian fell into a steady, toe-curling pace. He pulled you onto his cock with every deep plunge, digging his feet into the bed to lend some force to his thrusts, and his reward was the sound of your shaky voice reverberating off of the bedroom walls as your spine rounded. You keened loudly, overcome with both the feeling and the sight of Sebastian– because not only was he deceptively good at rendering your mind into a puddle of mush, he looked amazing while he was doing it. The muscles in his arms rippled as he supported himself above you, his brown curls falling into his face as his head hung heavy between his sculpted shoulders, and when your arousal had you clamping down on his cock harder, those full, kissable lips of his fell open around a guttural groan. 
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he grit out through his clenched teeth, gazing down at you with lust-dark eyes that made your blood burn hot in your veins. “So bloody gorgeous– like a fucking work of art.”
His praises left you whining in earnest, and you didn’t bother to keep your voice down in the slightest. With every sinful noise that escaped you, Sebastian’s hold on you seemed to intensify, and his thick cock filled you harder with every desperate pump of his hips. His ragged breathing left you craving more of him– all of him– and you rutted against him as much as was physically possible in a bid to take him deeper. 
Sebastian picked up on your desires wordlessly, and he shifted his hold on your thigh so his hand was looped around it to better pull it to the side, giving him the room he needed to spear into you with wicked precision. It also allowed him to discover what you sounded like crying out for more, your voice reedy and strident within the four walls of the bedroom, and when he shifted his hips down to achieve new depths, your moans echoed around him. He had to be hitting a good spot. 
“Right there, Sebastian, fuck– right there–” 
Your lower half was positively shaking, and Sebastian was honestly at his limit. He sat up momentarily before grabbing both of your legs, watching as you blearily tried to figure out what was going on while he pulled your knees over his shoulders. Moving over you swiftly and urgently, he bent you back and rammed his thick cock back into your tight heat, animalistic grunts sounding from him as you arched tight and cried out, but you were barely given the space to breathe before he was fucking you hard– hips bucking rough and deep and so fucking good that you were left screaming and gasping helplessly at the sheets. 
Sebastian pinned you to the bed and pounded into you, his own moans dripping loud from his lips as his hands grasped at the sweaty, flushed skin of your waist, pulling you close while he filled you over and over and drank in your noisy pleas for more until your back was arching clear off the bed and your thighs were shaking. You were barely holding on, your climax from earlier roaring back to life in your gut and rendering your tongue a lead weight in your mouth.
Forming words was damn near impossible, but you still managed to babble out, “Like that, Sebastian, fuck, just like that– I’m close– please, I’m–”
He obliged you instantly, keeping up his pace while he brought his hand between your legs to thumb over your bundle of nerves, his hips angling upwards with every deep, precise plunge. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, you watched through your slitted eyes as he bent forward to press a chaste kiss to your parted lips, swallowing your breathy whines with a satisfied expression playing over his face. “Come on, darling. Let’s hear how you sound falling apart on my cock, yeah?” 
As if you even needed the encouragement. 
Every muscle in your body tensed as a wave of unparalleled ecstasy crashed over you, and your hands flew to Sebastian’s shoulders to absentmindedly attempt to grasp at something to ground yourself. His movements didn’t stop as you writhed beneath him– milking every possible noise out of you with unconcealed fervor– and it was only when you sagged into the sheets twitching and whimpering that Sebastian let your legs drop to the sides so he could wrap his arms around you to give you the last of his deep, quick thrusts before he was coming too, your name tumbling over his lips as he fell alongside you. 
“Fuck,” Sebastian murmured directly beside your ear, still draped in a boneless heap on top of you as you trembled against him. One of your hands slid up to bury your fingers in his tangled curls, and you mumbled something unintelligibly into the crook of his neck. He pulled back slightly to hear you better, “What?” 
Your eyes were still glazed over as you came down from your post-coital high, “Are the Archives chock-full of sex books or something?” 
Sebastian smirked tiredly at you, pulling out gently before collapsing beside you with his arms still wrapped securely around your waist. “One or two. Why?” 
You stared up at the ceiling in a daze and shook your head softly to yourself, “Because you’re a little too good at that. It’s kind of scary.”
“Good scary or bad scary?” 
“Good scary,” you clarified, turning over so you could face the brunet and smile softly at him. The way his entire face lit up at the sight of you would live on in your mind for years to come, you were sure, so you wistfully said, “We should do this again sometime.” 
Sebastian paused, leaving you worried for a short second until he wriggled in a way that let him press his hard cock against your stomach, and he closed the distance between the two of you to give you a chaste kiss on your nose before grinning mischievously. “Like right now?” 
You raised your eyebrows in silent surprise before laughing playfully, rolling over onto him before taking his face in your hands to kiss him deeply. It was a sweet moment– tender, affectionate, and heartwarming. It only ceased when you let go of his cheeks to move down his larger body, already itching to put your hands to better use. 
The only thing that stopped Sebastian from staying holed up within the warm, comfortable confines of your bedroom with you forever was the imminent arrival of Monday, but Saturday and Sunday were days well spent. You were rather disappointed when your time together came to an end– enough so that you actually pouted when Sebastian had slid out from beneath the covers to get ready for work. Thankfully though, the Archivist was as unwilling as you were to call it quits after everything, and following a heated, lengthy kiss, he promised to come back as soon as he was able. 
It only took him eight hours to find himself back in your bed, but you knew then that it would be impossible to stay away from him for very long from here on out. 
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secondstar-acorn · 4 months
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one of the things that makes me insane about lautski (among MANY) is how aware of each other’s boundaries they are and how they’re able to banter with each other without taking it to heart
throughout the show they’re lightly teasing each other (i.e. literally all of “if I loved you” and steph’s c+ bringing down pete’s gpa) but they’re also earnest with each other about the things they joke about when it counts!!! best example of that is in “cool as I think I am (reprise)” with:
“you’re not as cool as you think you are” “but you’re as smart as I know you are”
LIKE. OKAY. O K A Y. pete’s journey throughout the show has been realising he IS as cool as he thinks he is. he’s not insecure about it anymore. he stands up to max! he knows his worth! and steph knows that, so she knows this won’t hurt him. steph, throughout the show, has an aversion to being earnest, ESPECIALLY when it comes to her feelings for pete—I mean hell, that’s what “if I loved you” is all about. so when she gets scared and worried about what’s gonna happen to pete, she deflects with that familiar banter while knowing it won’t actually hurt him, just as an act of self-preservation. because she CAN LIE TO HERSELF, as wiggly says. but pete, who DOES have a better handle on his emotions imo, especially as he grows throughout the show, who has thought steph is smart from the very beginning (“smarter than she thinks she is” in “cool as I think I am”), and KNOWS steph is insecure, deep down, about her intelligence, responds with that earnestness. because steph needs to believe in herself for this to work, sure, but also because if he’s going to die, steph needs to know how smart and how special and how LOVED she is.
and he subverts the dynamic they have throughout the rest of the show: steph teases, pete laughs it off because he knows she thinks he’s funny. steph makes fun of pete’s bowtie and suspenders and being micro-peter, and pete says something witty, and: “I didn’t know you were funny” “neither did I” “I like funny guys”. and at the end, with pete telling her about tap dancing: “you’re such a nerd, spankoffski. but the bow tie’s growing on me.”
steph shows her love through that teasing, because she knows that pete doesn’t take it to heart, and because it protects her OWN heart. and she expects pete to tease her back, but he doesn’t this time. he loves her. he believes in her like her dad and her teachers and basically every authority figure doesn’t, and she needs to know she is respected. (I could make a whole other post on steph’s coding in npmd as having a learning disability and being utterly failed by the adults in her life, but that’s for another time)
so pete crosses into earnestness when it counts. and steph is affirmed and respected. they literally speak each other’s language.
IT’S LIKE YOU TEST ME, BUT NOT TO BEST ME.
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lemonberry-soda · 6 months
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stuck this on a comment of a random Nerdy Prudes edit but I figured I'd throw it here lol
some things I've noticed by becoming so mentally unwell about this show!
Richie's hair probably isn't supposed to just be greasy/messy, but more that he tried to fashion his hair to look like an anime character! One side stuck up and weird bangs are very harem high school anime self-insert MC-core
in "High school is killing me", Peter says, "Grace, just be cool," and she replies, "never!" And yet she's the first one to ask everyone to keep the beans cool, and the first one to break. Very telling
this might be a stretch, but the 5 nerds are color-coded with the 5 Lords! Just dulled somewhat, and if you count Ruth as red/pink (for her headgear) and Peter as green (for his bowtie and suspenders). This makes sense to me, as the rulers definitely feed off of want, and of course the nerdy prudes will be wanting the most! (Also this makes Pete changing to brown mean a lot, since it shows how he feels fulfilled by slowly becoming Steph's friend/partner)
the mayor calling Steph his "October surprise" probably means that she was an unplanned baby. That makes her being forced to go to abstinence camp kinda hypocritical lol
Ruth keeps on desperately trying to fuck people and Richie keeps trying to be a wingman for her, but they aren't trying to fuck each other at all and are very much just super besties.
at multiple points, it implied that the characters slightly know they're in a musical. From Richie saying "oh no, she's snapping again," to the Hatchettown "singing gives him a greater window to kill, but we're singing still," and, as it was pointed out to me, "suddenly the show is real upsetting." Think of the implications!!!
Max's ghost costume is especially good, but I just love how there are veins on his jacket sleeves! It shows that his outfit isn't separate from himself anymore, his entire form is one single ghostly thing.
I will list more as time goes on. I'm very normal.
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sunnysam-my · 13 days
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Hazbin Hotel redesign ideas p. 2
I am a bit of fashion, especially men's, history nerd, and I'm also a bit of radio nerd, so here I go, biblically accurate Alastor.
ALASTOR:
Alastor was a radio host (a radio star?) who lived and died in Louisiana. He was shot during a hunting accident, in the head, somewhere in the 1933, during radio's golden era. He cares greatly about his image and always smiles to show no weaknesses. He hates modern technology and doesn't allow his face to be captured by video recording or non black and white camera. His is mixed-race Creole.
Nothing about Alastor design make sense and it pisses me off. Not only it doesn't fit the time, it also doesn't fit his character! Besides, he is too red. He disappears into the background, especially walls of the Hotel.
Alastor cares about his image greatly, yet his clothes are torn. He is supposed to be like Hannibal, yet he looks like an edgelord wannabe. It's awful. I learned nothing about him from his design, other than "he's and old-time radio deer guy", and that's really bad.
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Fashion in 30s was inspired by Hollywood, and sport and movies celebrities.
Back and white fashion in this period wasn't that different, at least for men, as long as you weren't poor, but here are some photos of specifically black fashion in 30s. In general I recommend that website if you want to look more into the fashion of this period.
His hair is completely wrong. And it's also really ugly lol. For richer black men a shiny straightening hairstyle was the go to since 1920s. One such style was "the conk" where one would chemically straighten their hair. It left hair shiny, but the process was painful and expensive. It literally could burn your scalp.
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Another popular style was the brush wave. It's creating narrow waves rolling on top of head with the sides cut short and smooth. This hairstyle is still present to this day, but nowadays it's done on the whole head.
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Other than that, men just wore their hair naturally, but short.
There is no focus on trousers or vest in Alastor's outfit. (Which is wild considering zipper fly was introduced in the early 30s, but was got popular by the mid ’30s). This was time of experimenting a bit with vests. If you wanted to look fancy and/or formal, you would wear a vest. Pants were wide legged, had a high waist and a single pressed line down the center of the leg. Some trouser waistbands were unique in the 1930s, for example a Hollywood waistband trouser. It had an extra wide band with a double row of buttons. They fit very high, overlapping the ribs. they often had netal ring tabs on the sides to tighten the pant to the correct fit without the need for belts or suspenders.
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Also, monocle? Really? …Really? Here you go, read this if you're curious. Lots of pictures of glasses included. Glasses stayed essentially the same in 30s as they were in 20s. They were "round with a center bridge in the early years and an upper bridge in the later years. Frames could be tortoiseshell, black plastic, or thin metal." 
Moving on from fashion, because I could never shut up, microphones!
The most probabale one that everyone who is redesigning Al is drawing is a good old classic Carbon mic. It looks like a ring with a metal star and the microphone inside. It can be hand held or a staff.
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But, if you wanna draw something different!
Other than Carbon mic there is also a Ribbon microphone (first row) and Moving Coil mic (second row). Unfortunately, they killed Alastor in the best part of the radio golden age, so the mics are still a bit ugly, not gonna lie.
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How would I design him:
First things firsts, either he is mixed or he is white, because right now it just feels like a cheep excuse to have an "evil voodoo" character without getting too much backlash. Let's be honest, nobody thought he was a POC and that white face doesn't help. Again, just like I mentioned with Vel, when you're drawing a character with human like skin tone you have to be careful and think how it ties to their race.
Second - fashion. His outfit and hairstyle is a disaster. He has always tried to 'dress to impress', so obviously I would give him well maintained clothing and that 'high quality', formal style. I would give him the dark brown Hollywood trouser with buttons and dark crimson shirt, like dried blood almost. Under a coat or jacket he would have a brow vest, both the same colour as the pants. Highlights would be golden and green or purple. I for one would love to see him start out with a jacket/coat which he stops wearing inside the hotel after he bonds with the people inside it more, but he would still wear it outside and in the finale would put it on again, after his breakdown in the tower. This would show he began to trust the hotel residents a bit before he 'realises his mistake' after the battle. I would give him short haircut, because not even white people wore hair like that. (What in the Karen-core is it supposed to be?). Say goodbye to that monocle. Why is it even there there? Because he is old-timely? What is he, a children's cartoon villain? His design doesn't need more soulless clutter. Give me something that tells me about him as a character. I've seen people give him old radio as teeth or chest and I love it! When it's not too detailed, it's a great idea to make Alastor less like a living human but also less of… just a deer. He just looks like a deer demon. I would keep his shoes, hands and antlers, and give him ears that would fit the hairstyle I would go with.
[Edit: I forgot to mention, I would give him a time accurate hat or a free wavy lock of hair to cover the mark on his forehead where he was shot]
Thirdly, the microphone! My love. I remember the microphone used to be able to talk, but now it doesn't, unless I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure. Now it's just a weird look staff microphone with an eye and that's about it. But imagine something like a moving coil with the metal sign on top of it were the letters on it change. It could be a way it's communicating, in a simple way. This was it could still have a unique shape. That would have been fun to see. I can certainly imagine it being something of an 'unfiltered voice' of Alastor, where it would change it's writing into "Shut up", "Die" or something like that and he would hit it in a reprimanding way to reverse it to "Smile!". I'm just saying, that's a cool idea.
Well, this took forever to make, I actually forgot about this, so it just sat in my drafts. Anyway, if you want to see brilliant use of costumes and detailed, accurate depiction of fashion (especially black and queer) through history in New Orleans I recommend "Interview With The Vampire" (2022). It's also a great show.
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