#multiple people have mentioned it so: I’m not planning on writing anything for this
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One of those "Jason becomes friends with Ghost King!Danny in the Zone after he dies" AUs but Jason just. Never leaves. He spends three years just hanging out in the Zone, partially amnesiac and everything. He gets a place in the King's Court (literally just the Official Friend Group of people Danny likes) and fully builds a new life in the Zone.
And then, one day, the Justice League has to travel to the Infinite Realms to meet with the Ghost King (their summoning portals wouldn't work). They travel all the way up to the castle and are told to enter the king's receiving chambers
Imagine their surprise when the king isn't the otherworldly eldrich monster they were expecting but a glowing ghost kid hanging out on a throne messing with his friends
And then the king and the ghosts+court notice the League and settle down, arranging themselves to look more Official(tm). The League approaches, and Superman is laying out the reasons the League wanted to meet with the Ghost King. And Batman, who has been looking around, cataloguing everything in the room, finally gets a good look at one of the Knights of the King's Court
"Jason?"
#mads posts#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom#dc#Jason Todd#its about the drama its about the reveal its about jason fully not recognizing/remembering Batman as his dad#Bruce takes off his cowl and Jason loses his mind because THATS his dad! the one he remembers!#everyone freaking out#league is like IS THAT. THE SECOND ROBIN#danny and his friends: IS THAT THE DAD YOU VAGUELY REMEMBER#Bruce is crying Jason is losing it#complicated times for everyone#From The Drafts#multiple people have mentioned it so: I’m not planning on writing anything for this#but y’all absolutely feel free to go for it
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HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH
TITLE: hits different
PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader | mc’s best friend johnny, haechan’s roommate mark (+ kinda emotional support boy when mc acts like a loser)
GENRE: non-idol au, strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, getting together, smut, angst, fluff | requested | bonus part
SUMMARY: nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything.
WARNINGS: smut, protected and unprotected sex (condom first and then mc is on the pill), multiple sex scenes, oral sex, fingering, car sex, riding, fingers sucking, face sitting, rimming, anal, mirror sex, a bit of exhibitionism (as a fantasy), praise, teasing (as in degradation but it’s not hard stuff), handjob, morning sex, kitchen sex, toys (vibrator), overstimulation, (no bdsm but) switchy dynamics, sa doesn’t happen but there are a few references to pushy behaviours, mentions of a past car accident and death of a barely mentioned character | I hope I didn’t forget anything but if I did, let me know! | kinda implied that both haechan and the reader are bi because in this house we only support mxf bi4bi couples (joking… unless) do whatever you want with this information.
WC: 44.804k
TAGLIST: @adorejaehyn @matchahyuck @sundhaelatte @jjhmk @ourbeautifulaffair @what-the-jams @oleoleniall @kundann @bbagu @ismileeprnc-responder @produmads @zkdlllin @yesohhsehun @aliceinwhateverland @strangevante @cas104 @hyuckdreams
A/N: finally writing hyuck as a loser male wife (kinda) my life is complete!!! It’s been months and I’m back with a request, I know it took long to write it but I hope whoever requested will like this. I’m still not sure about the present tense but idk I’m trying out new things. I would really appreciate if you could support my work in any way, feedback makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing. If you can, reblog so it can reach more people or come and chat in the ask box to let me know your opinion! Love you, enjoy!
It was Johnny’s fault. It’s always his fault when things don’t go as planned.
It’s his fault if right now you are jumping around Haechan’s bedroom trying to look for your clothes while the clock is running fast, and you are running late.
It was Johnny’s fault for setting you up with Haechan out of all his friends.
“Can you please help instead of just staring while I slowly transcend into madness?”
Haechan rolls his eyes, still laying in bed, crumpled-up sheets all over his body. “Damn, all of this for a pair of panties?”
“For all my clothes. What the hell did we do last night?” You groan, throwing your head back while another exhausted sigh slips from your lips.
“Don’t know,” he shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face while a small smirk curls his lips, “fucked you so hard you forgot?”
“Shut up!”
Haechan sighs another time, eyes rolling in the back of his skull before he stands up and actually starts helping you find your things. You hear him giggle at your muttered curses under your breath but at least he’s helping, studying the room to put your outfit back together.
But when you finally are done, he doesn’t shut up, he’s not half asleep like he usually is when you sneak out of his place on your tiptoes like a thief.
“You know, I don’t even get it,” he says, crossing his arms, eyes fixated on you even if you can only see him with your peripherical view, too occupied putting your panties back on.
“What?”
“Why you’re always in a rush. I think this is the first time I wake up with you. I don’t bite, you know,” you can hear the sarcasm in his voice and this early in the morning, with those implications, you find it slightly irritating.
You scoff, “I wouldn’t say that.”
“It happened once,” he exhales loudly, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “they looked extra soft.” That’s always his justification when you bring up the one time he bit you during sex, his eyes falling on your chest before you swiftly cover it with your arm.
“Okay, enough. You are a sleepy head and I have things to do, that’s why.”
Yeah, that’s why. It’s got nothing to do with the fact you created a list of rules to follow when you two started this and you would’ve rather got hit by lighting than broken one of those. He doesn’t know it, though. So, your different personalities and lifestyles make up a good excuse.
“Whatever,” he replies, believing in you, slightly disappointed over the fact you implied he’s lazy and sleeps too much. “We could eat break—”
“No!” You scream. “Fuck,” you shout again when in the rush of reacting to his absurd proposal you almost zip your panties — or better the skin of your mound — in the zip of your jeans. “I just told you I’m late.”
Haechan doesn’t get you. He thinks he never will. And you can see it in his eyes and the way he’s looking at you. It makes no sense for you to sweat while you’re dressing up again. He also thinks he knows so little of you and has no faint idea of what you could be late for. But he doesn’t ask. He might not have rules written, but somehow that feels like crossing some of those lines that are in between you like invisible strings.
“My purse, my purse, where the hell is my purse?”
He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your panicked eyes that are looking around the room, before he responds nonchalantly, “Couch, probably. You always throw it there.”
You quirk a brow. Always? Are you picking up habits? You scroll that out of your mind and run a hand through your hair — the flat press that now looks like a mess — before walking past him. It’s so irritating to have him there while you have to escape.
“Why are you following me?” You ask exhausted, turning around to meet him standing right behind you; you’re face to face, and considering he spent half of the night inside you, you shouldn’t find it so weird to have him so close, but it is, so you take a step back.
“’Cause this is my house?”
You huff, “yeah, of course.” Your purse is on the couch where you always throw it, and you’re quick to grab it before heading to the door.
“Are you sure you don’t —”
“No, gotta go. Bye. See ya,” you stop him, waving a last goodbye with a barely visible movement of the hand.
The door closes behind you and you finally start breathing normally again.
This is all Johnny’s fault.
It was Johnny’s fault.
If only he didn’t drag you out that night with the lame excuse that you needed to unwind and meet new people.
It wasn’t totally wrong. Let’s say you aren’t the best at making decisions, especially romantically, and you were still caught up with your ex... or whatever he was. You two weren’t together anymore, technically. Practically? Well…
But you didn’t want to start a new thing, your ex was traumatic, no matter how good the sex was (it wasn’t even that good, currently he’s the only one you can get sex from without having to hold boring conversations with a drink in hand and spend the ride back to their place hoping you didn’t end up in the arms of a killer) he was an asshole.
“Can you please don’t run, I can’t keep up with you,” you scream, trying to reach your best friend, Johnny, hurrying in your steps, praying you won’t break your ankles.
“You still insist to wear those heels when you can’t walk in them,” he jokes, laughing at you, watching you huff and bend over to catch your breath.
“It’s not them, it’s you for being so tall, why do you take such big steps?”
Johnny only rolls his eyes before pointing at the bar door with his head, “Should we head in? Need me to carry you or your small legs can drag you inside?”
You frown, glaring at him, “I hate you.”
Johnny smiles, handing out his arm so you can intertwine it with yours and then you step in.
The inside of the bar is cosy, the brown of the wood and the shelves make it warmer, and the music playing in the background is a nice company sound that won’t overshadow the talks. You don’t have time to look around much more, Johnny’s hand swiftly wraps around your wrist, and then he starts dragging you somewhere, and you can only activate your brain again to focus on him if you don’t want to fall in the middle of the place like a bag of potato.
“Dude, you finally made it, you’re late.” A boy you don’t know exclaims from the table and your eyes follow the line of five heads sitting next to him.
“Sorry, it was her fault,” Johnny says. Lies, cause you were on time, he picked you up late, making you wait ten minutes under your complex’s porch.
You are about to complain but suddenly all the eyes are on you, and you are too conscious about it to do anything else other than stare back at them with an awkward shy smile and a small wave of your hand.
“He picked me up late,” you still manage to babble out cause there’s no way that will be the first impression of you. You surely have some flaws — many flaws, Johnny would say — but being late it’s not one of them.
“Yeah, we know,” another one replies, glaring at your friend.
“Haechan,” Johnny replies with a scowl to him, and you try to note to yourself that’s his name. “Move, we need to sit, too.”
You wouldn’t have minded sitting at the far end of the bench, not even if you were at risk of falling down every two seconds. It would’ve been better than being squeezed between Johnny and Haechan. But even if the position is not the best, once again because Johnny takes too much space, after more than an hour you got along with all of his friends, you learned that most of them were dating, or busy with something, so you couldn’t quite get why Johnny brought you there. The fear that it was his way to confess to you and screw up twenty years of friendship got your skin crawling for a second, but when you were left alone with the black-haired man to your right, it all made sense.
“So, how do you know Johnny?” You ask, turning around to look at him while a small smile curls your lips.
Haechan smiles, or smirks, it’s almost a chuckle, you can’t quite describe it. “At the gym.”
“At the gym?”
He rolls his eyes, swiftly licking his lips, and lifting his hands up in defence, “I tried, okay? It’s just not for me.”
“Oh, no, sorry if it came off rudely,” you apologise. “You didn’t seem interested when they talked about it before so…”
“Cause I’m not,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and his face softens, making you take a breath of relief, well, good, you didn’t fuck it up for once. “We got close soon and then we started knowing each other out of that hell.”
You laugh at the way he talks about the gym, not that you disagreed, Johnny tried more than once to drag you there but you’re loyal to your Saturday and Sunday morning runs outside or on your treadmill.
His eyes fall on yours again, and he briefly studies your features before speaking again, “What about you?”
“Oh, he was actually my brother’s best friend, then they fought, and we became inseparable. My brother is still mad but that’s not my fault.”
Haechan laughs even though a frown hardens his features for a second, something about your tone seemed off for a split moment, but he shrugs it off and tries to joke about it, “Usually that ends with dating.”
Your eyes widen and your head moves from side to side. “Oh, hell no.”
“Johnny’s a dream for a lot of people.”
“Yeah, we’re fine as friends,” you confirm again, the mere idea of seeing Johnny as something else making your stomach convulse. You are sure he’s a perfect boyfriend, husband even, to somebody else.
“Oh, already taken?”
“No, we’re friends, he’s my soulmate in another way. And I don’t do love.”
Haechan stares at you, his eyes moving on your face, the small nervous twitching of the corner of your lips, and the frenetic playing of your fingers with the crumbs on the table. “No?”
“It’s just not for me. Not in a…” you stop, trying to find the words. You don’t have a reason, you just never fell deeply for someone. You surely care for people, and you love your friends, but your relationships never left a deep mark on you. You’re fine with yourself. “I’m good on my own.”
“Bad experiences?” He tries to guess, thinking he’s going to hit the target.
You shake your head, sipping on the glass of alcohol and emptying it. “No, I’ve always been like this. I think nobody made a mess of me to leave me hooked on them.”
He chuckles, and something crosses his face but you don’t catch it, it looks like the smirk of before with a glint in his eyes, but it’s too quick, and you don’t know him at all to read his micro-expressions that well.
“You?” You ask, feeling a push of curiosity that makes you want to learn more about him. His lips move, but you have no time to carry on the conversation since the others arrived.
Back then you didn’t know where that night would’ve led you. You had no idea that the person that would’ve made a mess of you was right there by your side. But of one thing you can be sure, it was Johnny’s fault.
You’re sure that night nothing clicked between you and Haechan; whatever Johnny had in mind, didn’t happen. You two didn’t even exchange numbers, you can’t even remember if you said a proper goodbye to him when you stumbled out of that restaurant hanging from your best friend’s arm.
Whatever led you here started a few weeks after, probably even a month later, when Haechan had already slipped out of your mind, long forgotten, categorized with those people that if you saw somewhere you were sure you already knew, but couldn’t remember when, why, and how.
But with him, that didn’t happen. When your eyes met again you felt something. He looked different, probably it was the black hair framing his face perfectly, some make-up on his face too, or the leather jacket he was wearing and the chains around his neck. You remembered him, clear as the sky. But he was even hotter, attracting you without saying a word, not that you would’ve heard. You were at a club, and he was leaning against the bar on the other side of you. But his eyes were speaking louder than words, and your feet followed an invisible path that got you right there, on the stool next to him.
“Look who’s alive,” Haechan jokes, looking at you up and down, eyes lingering for a bit longer on your exposed thighs, the pink skirt you’re wearing giving him a good view of your skin.
You chuckle, “why would I be dead?”
He shrugs, before calling the bartender and ordering you a drink. “Don’t know, you disappeared,” he whispers, looking at you.
“I didn’t know we wanted to keep contact,” you say, meeting his gaze and drifting away immediately, it’s a subtle movement, enough to make it seem like the stocked bottles of different types of liquor are more interesting than him. You never react like that, there’s something different in the air tonight and you’re not sure you want to get drunk on that feeling.
“You’re right,” he whispers, and your legs brush for an instant as he sits better on the stool. “I find you interesting, so I was looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Really? After a five-minute talk, I already have that effect on you?” You tease, staring into his brown eyes while you sip on the drink that arrived.
“You talked all night, to be honest. You seem fun to be with,” he defends himself, but you see in the way he acts that he’s confident, your teasing didn’t make him uncomfortable or anything, and you don’t know where your bickering-flirting method is going to take you. “You’re friends with Jonny, after all.”
You shake your head, placing the glass down, and then fix your skirt. “So following your logic you should be charming and attractive too?”
He lifts a hand to stop you, “Never called you charming or attractive, do you think that of me, honey? Want me to think you are?”
You’re stunned and a bit taken aback because you weren’t expecting that answer, and you don’t even expect your body to light on fire. It’s not really about the words, it’s the way he gets you, like nobody ever did before, like you want him to get you, to keep up with you. And it’s also in the way his body talks, it’s addictive, it is charming, the small fidgeting of the fingers, the bounce of his legs while his legs are a bit spread open and his thighs are perfectly wrapped by those jeans that make you want to do unholy things, and his eyes, that taunting, witty light and the grin on his face.
You shake your head when you realize that you still didn’t come up with an answer, too lost in his details to think about a comeback, and you’d like to die when his melodious laugh resonates from his chest.
“Should we order another one to ease the tension?” He doesn’t give you time to fall down into the deep end of your regrets and embarrassment, he’s smiling at you tenderly, and you smile back.
There’s something different in the air, and you’re sure about it, just like you feel more and more like you shouldn’t get drunk on that feeling.
But you don’t have a choice when the night drags longer and you’re no longer sitting at the bar but you’re dancing in a corner of the club with his hands all over you. You don’t know how you got there, words turned into teasing, teasing turned into something bigger you didn’t know how to deal with (he is good with words), and to bear with them you thought dancing would’ve drawn his quirky remarks out, but Haechan was also good with his body, and once he had you wrapped around him, you didn’t know how to stop.
You had lost sight of Johnny, but you couldn’t care about him. Technically you had to go home with him, but you weren’t sure you wanted to.
“Fuck, girl,” he whispers, “you’re good at this.”
You roll your eyes, but a laugh rolls out from your chest. “Don’t call me girl, it sounds so condescending and you sound like a creep.”
“Sorry, prefer other pet names, or is your name fine?”
“My name is fine.” Your name should’ve been a neutral thing to keep him away from your heart, at least — even if he actually isn’t, he is already deep inside your panties by now. But unfortunately, even the way your name rolls out of his lips makes your heart lose a beat. But you blame it on the night, on the alcohol, and on the fact he’s teasing you, whispering it right next to your ear as if he’s casting a spell on you.
You need to breathe some fresh air because Haechan is becoming too much. He was already all over you and you aren’t used to this.
When you open the door of the bar and lean against the wall, the cold of the night envelops you before his warmth washes over you again.
He doesn’t talk, though. Even if your eyes are closed you can feel he is staring at your face, fearfully at your lips while they puff out white clouds of air.
“Should we take this home?” Those words seem so loud in the quiet of the night, just a few cars passing by and some people stumbling out of the club.
You don’t reply, your head turns around to stare at him; he’s serious, partially drunk, but serious. And you are in desperate need of a good fuck. Well, you hope it will be a good one, or probably no, maybe you wish it will be terrible so you can rant about it with Johnny and he will make sure you and Haechan never cross paths again. But right now, you’re not thinking with your brain, and you want him, hoping it will be good, and who knows, maybe you can find your perfect distraction.
“Your place?” You ask straightforwardly, meeting his eyes.
“Oh, Mark’s at home,” he says, “my roommate.”
You sigh, you can’t take him home either. “Well,” you say, rubbing your neck and looking away, “maybe next time, then.”
“Wait,” he stops you by a hand, “have you ever done it in a car?”
No, you haven’t, and soon you also find out why you’ve never done it.
“Will you please stop cursing?” Haechan rasps, pulling your panties down, trying to block your leg from kicking him in the face.
“I don’t think this is the best place we could — fuck,” the words die in your mouth when, after rolling his eyes and gutturally groaning to shut up, his lips close around your pussy. It’s a harsh suck on your clit that gets you silent, head rolling back on the backseat. You think that he might be uncomfortable kneeling between your legs, halfway down and halfway up in the space between the front and back seats, but you honestly don’t care, that’s his problem for choosing this out of all the places, not that you had a better alternative, at least the car is clean, unlike the club bathroom.
It’s not the first impression people would go crazy to have about themselves, but fuck, Haechan’s good at this. It’s like he has a mission, and probably that’s to make you come in the shortest possible time.
“Why are you so loud?” You ask. It’s not a complaint, you like hearing him moan against your skin, and as embarrassing as they should be, you enjoy the slurp sounds he’s making while his mouth keeps working wonders on you. But your pleasure-haltered voice doesn’t come out how it sounds in your brain and Haechan growls in annoyance.
“Why are you still talking?” He scolds, pulling away from you, and the sight of his face covered in your wetness makes your stomach twist and your hips buck searching for more. You need him back right where he was, immediately. “Good, these are the only reactions I want from you,” he comments mockingly with a snotty grin on his face before he leans down and resumes where he stopped.
This time no more words but curses and moans come out of your mouth. Your head falls back slack, and your fingers graze the backseats of his car, trying to hold onto something as the knot in your stomach tightens more with every lick on your sensitive core.
“Taste so good,” he hums against you, his hands push your legs up for what he can, and his fingers dip into your soft skin, gripping strongly to keep you in place. The cold of the rings adorning his digits makes you shiver and you’d do anything to have them inside you, but it feels so good that you can’t even beg for that, too focused on what he’s already doing with his lips and tongue.
“Haechan,” you whisper when he quickens his movements and parts your lips more, starting to also tease your entrance with his tongue and making you feel more exposed. You should be more bothered about the cars — and people — passing next to you in the parking spot, but given by your whimpers and moans, it’s clear you don’t care. Truthfully, it’s like you have completely forgotten where you are, not even the painful reminder of the safety belt’s buckle pressing right against your ribcage seems to remind you that you’re in public and anyone could hear — and for now see too, since the windowpanes aren’t fogged by the heat of your bodies yet.
“Mhh, mhh,” he sings in response, opening his eyes to meet yours, looking at you with so much intensity you feel your knees tremble and your thighs close around his head. “No, no, no, babe, let me do my job.”
You groan; the teasing, almost condescending, tone of his voice fuels a fire in you, and the orgasm chokes you up. You curse when your climax breaks through your body and leaves you gasping for air while Haechan continues pleasuring you through your high. His hands cup your ass, kneading it, while his tongue plays with your extra sensitive pussy for some more before he pulls away and stares at the mess between your legs with a proud, playful smirk curling his reddened and puffy lips.
“So, was it worth it for you, spoiled princess?”
You scoff, brushing your hair back and some sweat off your forehead, while you try to close your legs because suddenly you feel too exposed to him. “You can’t deny the car is a shitty place.”
He laughs and then shakes his head. “So shitty you can’t take some more for me?” He tilts his head, raising his brows while he briefly looks down where his hands are patiently waiting for your good to go and get out of his pants.
“If you’re also so good with your dick I think I can take being cramped up in a sardine can some more,” you joke, struggling to sit up because your legs feel like jelly and you can’t believe he made you feel that good with his tongue only. Your first time together? And it looked like he genuinely loved giving oral? Was all this luck a sign of something tragic imminent?
You scroll your thoughts out of your mind when you feel the sound of the belt unbuckling and his jeans hitting the floor of the car.
“Fucking worst idea ever,” he curses as he realizes that he can’t fuck you with the denim mid-thigh.
“I told you,” you retort, and you’d be entertained to watch him curse and struggle some more, pondering if he should just get rid of his shoes too and be naked while anyone could knock on your window and signal you to the police, but you want him too badly and you can’t wait any longer, so you propose a thing, “Sit here, I’ll ride.”
His eyes light up and you can see the weight being lifted off his chest as he nods and promptly sits in the middle seat. You stare in silence as he pushes the boxers down his legs too before grabbing a condom and rolling it down his length. You could cry because also his dick looks perfect for now, and you don’t go around saying it often, but it’s literally the perfect size, it won’t hurt you and yet it will fill you amazingly, you just know.
“Enchanted?” He tsk with a bragging tone, winking while he runs his fingers through his hair.
Your eyes roll in the back of your head, but your pussy clenching is your honest reaction, he’s too hot and uses it to his advantage a bit too often, he can’t keep getting away with it. So, you go on with your lie, trying to appear unfazed, you shake your head and climb on top of him, luckily you decided to go for the mini skirt and not the long pants tonight, so you don’t have access problems. You move your hand to grab the base and lift your hips, only when you feel his tip prod at your entrance you start sinking.
“Oh, shit,” you moan and your head rolls back when you bottom down completely. You don’t move right away, letting yourself get used to his — in fact — perfect girth and length, feeling his hands wrap around your waist to keep you from falling clumsily.
Haechan lets out a shaky moan too, and his eyes are closed still when you lift your head and focus on his face, but they snap open when you start moving on him.
“Fuck, eager?” He groans, biting his lips to don’t be too loud, not that it would do anything when you’re moving so fast on him, your ass smacking hard against his thighs, the sounds filling the vehicle.
“Wanted to fuck you since I saw you standing at the bar,” you confess nonchalantly, and he thinks you can’t be real, but he has no time to dwell on you and the way you are because you’re taking his breath away. He can’t even lie, he wanted you too since the same moment, if not since the very first night, so having you here feels a bit unreal.
“You’re so hot,” he whispers, eyes moving on your body, watching your boobs bounce with every thrust through the skimpy top, and your thighs, fuck your thighs, he wants to squeeze them and hold them, and so he does, moving his hands there and massaging the flesh, eliciting more moans from your parted lips.
Your hands clench on his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a groan but it surprises you when you realize it’s a moan of pleasure and not pain. Your lips twitch in a smirk before your tongue runs on them. “Like the pain?”
He glares at you, moving his left hand on your ass, slapping it harshly, smirking in victory when a choked moan falls from your lips and your cunt clenches around him. “You too, it seems,” he winks.
“Fucker,” you slur out, narrowing your brows, and picking up a different rhythm, grinding your hips on him with force to distract him from your right hand creeping on his neck until it reaches his hair and pulls at it with a tug.
“Shit,” he moans, thighs flexing under you at the unexpected wave of pleasure he feels rushing through his bones. “I hate you.”
You don’t reply, you don’t need to, it’s clear he doesn’t, and he’s loving it. So, you give him more, leaning in to leave small bites on his neck and collarbones. You don’t let your teeth sink in his golden sink much, your goal is not to leave ugly blooms of purple and red for everyone to see, you want to feel the shivers on his skin and the hisses hitting your earlobe every time you graze his sensitive skin.
You pull back with a cuss when another smack lands on your other asscheek, and Haechan chuckles darkly at your surprised face.
“What, babe? It’s the art of giving and receiving,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his breaths are short and he’s clearly fighting himself back to let out all the moans you’re eliciting from him.
You groan, and you almost lean in to kiss him, you don’t think it through, your body moves on its own but right when your lips are about to crash you stop, seeing eye to eye. “I hope you’re having fun, then,” you retort, but your voice is shaky — he blames it on the sex — and your heart is almost pumping out of your ribcage, but he doesn’t notice, he doesn’t even notice your trembling hand as you try to fight off the anxiety that being so close to him, to his lips, to his eyes, gives you.
“So much fun,” he snorts, pulling you closer to him by the waist and you have to pull back swiftly, gasping for air. The car feels suffocating, and when you turn around for a split second you can’t see what’s outside, glasses steamed up.
“Worried about people that could see us?” He teases you, bringing your attention back on him with his thumb on your clit, smirking proudly when your eyes widen and your thighs tremble, and you have no idea how you’re — not only supporting your body up — but still fucking him.
“Worried about going home with a corpse in the car,” you mutter when he starts moving his finger on your clit, and presses his hand on the small of your back, and you can almost feel the metal meld in your skin for how hot your body is.
“Want to kill me? After the best fuck of your life?” He pouts, starting to move up into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.
“You wish,” you spit out, but oh god if he’s right.
“Then I guess you’re not gonna come.” He forces you still down on him, the strong grip on your waist almost painful.
“What?” Your eyes snap open, and your hands have to hold onto his shoulder because your legs can’t hold you up by themselves anymore.
“Changed your mind? It’s good?”
You groan, throwing your head back when he resumes the strokes. “It is good, I just want to slap you for no reason.” Because you are too good, and I might already be addicted and I don’t like how this sounds.
Haechan grins, loving the way you look like a mess in his arms but still talk back and do anything to pretend that it’s not that good. He’s getting off to that, your blissed face, your low, needy moans, your trembling thighs, and your dripping wet pussy making a mess around him. He’s getting off to you, and your stubbornness that makes all your weaknesses so fucking attractive.
“Haechan,” you slur out, letting your head fall on his shoulder while your whole body tenses up. You don’t warn him, the orgasm runs through you before you can even process it, and Haechan doesn’t need words anyway because your cunt clenching around him and your nails digging into his back again trigger his own release too. Your moans blend together and bounce around the car while your hips move in messy thrusts for a while more before coming to a stop, slowly letting the quiet of the night around you slip into the car and remind you two what you had just done.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, forcing your torso up, and gulping while you look around and hope you weren’t too lost in the pleasure and didn’t hear police sirens or something.
“Don’t worry, nobody ever walks around here,” Haechan chuckles, watching the expression on your face change into confusion, leaving the fear behind. “Why do you think I always park here if it’s free?”
“Oh,” you whisper. “So, you bring a lot of people here. Nice to know,” your comment is sarcastic but you can’t deny the small veil of pettiness and jealousy behind it.
“Honestly?” He says, shutting down a moan of disappointment when your body leaves his, and you try to look for your purse to find tissues to clean yourself. “I never brought anybody here, not for sex at least.”
You shouldn’t be relieved, but you are, and you shouldn’t. So you shrug it off and turn around after you pushed the dirty tissue into the empty envelope that used to contain it before. “And for what then?”
“Occasional smoking weed sessions,” he confesses. “When one of my older friends used to drive me and my roommate here, and we escaped those nights with some other friends. I’m not saying nobody ever passes by, but trust me, they don’t care ‘cause they probably will do the same.”
You hum before staring at the door handle as if it will open on its own.
“Want me to drop you home? It got late,” Haechan asks now that he’s finally put together again and looks at least decent, the flush on his face is still there and his hair is a mess, but he’s covered.
You shake your head and bite your thumb before your hand lays on the handle. “No, Johnny will drop me home.”
“Okay, great. Are you alright?”
You laugh and look at him with a grin on your face. “Playing boyfriend after you fucked me next to a wood?”
“Oh, shut up!” He yells, pushing you out, and then following you. “Just wanted to check.”
“Well, I can walk on my knees, so I guess I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Mr perfect dick.”
Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking to the other side, opening the driver’s door and getting halfway in. “Fuck you, Miss I’m not fucking in a car.”
“Goodnight to you, too, Haechannie. It was lovely making a new acquaintance,” you joke, and you can’t hold back the smile when he starts the car and drives away all while holding his middle finger up for you to see after sending you a flying kiss.
When you turn around and hug yourself in your jacket to shield yourself from the cold, you curse at your first step.
You very much can’t walk without looking like you just learnt how to stand on your feet.
“Fuck you, Lee Haechan.”
The rules aren’t exactly written anywhere in your house, it would’ve been weird if someone ever entered and found your ‘10 things to don’t do with your fuckbuddy’, not that many people are allowed in your apartment. That is another of your thousands of unwritten rules, it’s not like you don’t have friends, you are pretty chatty with everyone and get to know people easily, but your house is your safe place, and only a few are allowed in. Haechan isn’t one of that. It isn’t because you aren’t close with each other, by now it had been six months since you started this and well, you got to know each other pretty deeply, but you are terrified that your rules aren’t his.
You know how to move when you go to his place, you have your ways to don’t turn this amazing sex into a catastrophe of broken hearts and shed tears; the rules are simple and clear in your mind.
Rule number 1: never sleep over.
Sleeping in the same bed is romantic. Even when there are no feelings involved, even when no ‘I love yous’ can slur out of someone’s mouth.
Sleeping in the same bed is dangerous.
You can appear a bit cold and distant, but unfortunately, you aren’t. And as much you tell yourself to don’t catch feelings, you may never know what happens when you fall asleep side by side and two arms start keeping you warm. Sure, you could sleep in the same bed and still stay away from each other, but what if… yeah, you don’t even like to think about the possibility of things that aren’t in your plans to happen.
Better safe than sorry.
But that rule doesn’t last long. Haechan is a little too good and you always finish a little too late, so most of the time either your legs don’t allow you to stand on your feet (let alone drive back home), or it is too late and there are no more buses.
So, rule number 1 became what used to be rule number 2: if you by mistake sleep over, leave before he wakes up.
This one is pretty easy to follow. Haechan is more gone than you in the morning and as soon as you hear the first ring of your alarm you are on your feet, ready to go on with your routine. Washing your face, fixing your hair, and finding your clothes so you could be out of there as soon as possible. You would’ve dealt with the other hygienic things back at home. You often thought about carrying a small bag with you with your toothbrush, a towel, and some other things, but that felt too domestic. Even if you had to bring it from home, the idea of brushing your teeth at his place, washing your hair, taking a shower, and walking around his house with only a bathrobe, made shivers run down your spine. Too romantic.
Rule number 3: never invite him over.
It’s not only for sex-related problems, it’s also because you don’t want him to get too deep into you. You had spent a lot of time to make this house your home, and you are sure that if you let him in after the doorstep, he would’ve got to know you, and you don’t want that to happen. You are close, but not too close, and you want to maintain the line clear.
Rule number 4: no kisses.
Strictly no kisses outside of the bed. Your initial rule included also kisses inside of the bedroom — or whatever surface he fucked you against — but after the first kiss he stole from you, well, screw another rule. It is also quite impossible when, for some reason, you two got so primal with each other. It isn’t a fucking session with him if you don’t spend at least five minutes making out while your hands roam each other’s bodies leaving marks behind. Embarrassing, you think every time those flashbacks assault your mind when you are out of the sex haze.
Rule number 5: keep it private.
This also was never spoken but it seemed like Haechan got it too. It isn’t to protect the relationship or some other bullshit, you simply can’t stand people’s opinions about you and your life. Also, what is the point of people knowing you two fucked? That’s too personal and invasive. You don’t want to deal with their comments or their misunderstanding of your and Haechan’s friendship. After all, you two are friends before anything else and you act like friends, but as soon as people know something more is going on, their first brilliant idea is to make up crazy theories of how you two look like such a hot couple and would be perfect together.
And then there are some more, random rules you make up along the way every time you feel he is crossing some lines or you are.
It might seem strange that there’s no rule implying not falling in love, right? Well, it’s not in your brain because you never even thought that could happen. You’re not even sure you ever loved the people you dated, how could you fall for your friend with benefits?
Unfortunately, it never crossed your mind that they are not Haechan.
You’re not sure when it all started. What you’re sure about is that you never planned for anything to start. The fuck in the car had been, unfortunately, really good, but you truly believed you could live without his dick. But maybe there was something else of him you couldn’t live without, and you had no idea about it yet.
“So, uhm, you know Haechan, right?” Johnny mutters in a low voice while you two are walking back home after you convinced him to go out for a run with you instead of going to the gym.
You sip from your cup of coffee and stare at him with a question mark painted all over your face, is he dumb? “Mhh, yeah, you got us in touch?”
“Like him?”
The coffee almost spurts out of your mouth, but you still try to keep your composure and only choke silently on the sip that you’re swallowing. “He seems like a cool guy.”
Johnny snorts, “A cool guy, really?”
“What do you want me to say? I barely know him.” You don’t like the smirk that crosses your friend’s face, you know what kind of grin it is, the smirk of a man that has a plan you know nothing about, and you don’t like not being aware of what is going on. “Johnny?”
“Well, you could get to know him better?”
Your eyebrow rises and you almost stop walking, your brain running too fast trying to keep up with your friend’s bullshit. “What do you mean?”
“He asked if I could give him your number, wanted to be sure it was okay with you.”
“He asked about me?”
Johnny hums, slurping loudly on his straw. Aren’t straws banned? Why does this place still sell them? Just so he can get on your nerves? You are brought out of your straw-hatred thoughts when he speaks again.
“Told me you talked the other night.”
“Talked,” you snort before coughing. “I mean, the music was loud, and we could barely make a conversation, but yes, he seems… fine.”
“He seemed interested.”
“Well, give him my number, I’m sure he won’t text me anyway.”
You got Haechan wrong. So many times actually, because every time you expected he would do something, he would always surprise you by doing the opposite and you weren’t sure it was a good thing.
When you got home after parting your ways with Johnny, the last thing you were expecting was to get out of the shower and see the notification on your phone from an unknown number.
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
hi, it’s haechan. guess you remember me cause johnny gave me your number
thanks for giving him the consent btw
we were so busy last night that we didn’t think about this
You hate to admit it, but you stare at the phone a little too long, why is he so polite about it? Damn, is your bar set so low? Is it really that bad that 90% of the men you met would’ve sent you a dick pic as the first message or a ‘what would you if I was in the shower with you’ text? Probably it is.
You quickly shake your head, biting your thumb, and get up from the bed, swearing because you already left a wet patch on the duvet.
“I can’t answer naked,” you whisper, opening the chat and already thinking about what to reply. “I mean, it could come in handy if he asks for nudes but… what the fuck am I talking about?” You curse before throwing the locked phone in the middle of the bed and rushing to the closet to grab some new clothes.
When you’re all done, in black sweatpants and a white long-sleeve shirt, hair dry, and skincare applied, you slump on the bed and face what has a big chance of becoming your new toy.
you
hi! yes i can’t really forget you
“Oh, jesus, are you kidding me? That’s cheesy. He will never get that I mean I can’t forget about his fingers, tongue, and cock, right?” You huff, throwing your head back, trying to think of something else.
you
hi! yes i remember
“There, so we don’t sound like a pathetic loser,” you hum happily, pressing send. And with that, you might’ve avoided that, but he’s trying to win the race of the best pathetic losers because he replies in less than a minute.
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
great, feared you forgot about me again
anyway, how are you?
You stare at the phone, not because you want to make him wait — you really couldn’t get those tricks, truly sure that if somebody is interested in you they won’t disappear or appear based on how fast or slow you reply — you’re truly shocked because, damn, a small taste of you and he is already a sore loser, and you’re not ready for a half-assed small talk conversation.
Your fingers start typing anyway.
you
good, went on a run with j
you?
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
stayed humble and played with some of my friends
“Oh, he’s a gamer? That’s why he’s good with his fingers,” you let out before you can think of what you’re saying, and also ask yourself since when you started talking to yourself so much. Maybe Johnny is right, being alone is fucking you up.
you
did you win?
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
of course, babe
do you know whom you’re talking to?
A loser.
You think but you don’t write it.
A loser.
You think of yourself when reading the message, you can hear his honey-like voice whisper ‘babe’ to your ear and your core starts throbbing as if she’s been left starving for years.
you
haha hope you had fun
Dammit. Since when do you suck so much at holding a conversation? Why aren’t you flirting back? Wait, is he flirting?
Another groan leaves your lips as you plunge even southern on the bed and lock the phone again, hoping he lost interest in you after that dry-ass message and you can go back to your toys and your ex — update, the sex ranking fell down after Haechan, he wasn’t even good for that anymore.
But Haechan surprises you, he always does. When your phone dings again you expect to find Johnny congratulating you for being a dumb bitch but instead your jaw falls on the floor.
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
sure did
btw
can i take you out tomorrow? johnny told me you stop working at twelve on friday so it shouldn’t be a problem
dinner out? i’ll come to pick you up at 7
“What the fuck?” Your attempt at don’t look like a crazy single 40 years old woman that fell into madness by being only surrounded by her cats didn’t last long. “What the actual fuck?”
Is that a date? He asked you how you’re doing for some sort of niceties before dropping the question just like that? Why is Johnny so nosy going around telling your business — mental note; talk to Johnny about shutting his mouth.
you
fine but i can drive there
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
no dw, it’s a surprise, i’ll drive you
you
thanks, i promise i won’t make you wait
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
can’t wait to see you 😊
You snort, fucking loser, before going to his contact.
‘pathetic loser’ was added to contacts.
Haechan surprises you even on your first date, or whatever you could call that. As sweet as he seems, you deep down — precisely between your legs — hope it is a dick appointment, but since you aren’t with your car you aren’t so sure about that, he for sure isn’t entering your place that night.
You are punctual, already waiting for him outside of your house, and immediately entering on the passenger side when he stops on the sidewalk.
“Am I late?” Haechan asks when he sees you step in so promptly.
“No. Why wait, though? See that the first time it was Johnny’s fault?”
Haechan chuckles before giving you a brief look, studying your red dress, the heels, and the small bag, and then starts the car again. “It’s always Johnny’s fault.”
Yeah, you totally agree.
“So, where are we going?” You ask, hating the silence that’s filling the car. After the small talks, you stopped conversating, and even if it wasn’t awkward you didn’t want your brain to travel to places.
“I told you, it’s a surprise.”
“I don’t really like surprises,” you confess, turning your gaze to him, leaving the city behind you.
“Damn, you bite back,” he whispers, and you blink in surprise.
“Am I too honest?”
“Don’t know, I don’t know you yet.”
You think for a second that you should end this as soon as possible, he seems too sweet and even if you don’t do it on purpose, you know you can come off as too edgy at times. Not everyone likes being told things to their faces or having set boundaries they couldn’t cross, but you mean no harm, you just want your space protected.
“It wasn’t supposed to come out harshly, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to meet his eyes and when he stops at the traffic lights, he turns to stare at you. “It was kinda a ‘get to know me’ information and I sounded like a bitch.”
Haechan laughs, shaking his head, fingers tapping on the wheel, probably to release the tension in his muscles. “I wasn’t offended, I just wasn’t expecting you to be so upfront. People… lie.”
“I hate liars,” your voice comes out just like before and you curse under your breath.
“Another ‘get to know me’ information?” He questions, his voice playful while a gentle smile curls his lips.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “Add it to the list, it might be helpful if you don’t want to end up on my blacklist.”
The biggest surprise Haechan gifts you is that… he is not an asshole.
You expected he would say something during dinner to make your pussy dry, brain dead and stomach convulsing with the urge of puking, but… he didn’t. Nothing dumb, insensitive, tone-deaf, cringy, or creepy came out of his mouth.
Even when he flirted, he knew how to do it right. He was so fucking good at it, being so subtle he left you speechless and warm, making you dizzy, and, after the tenth eyebrow rise and lick of his lips, even wet.
And he was funny. Quickly going down the memory lane you could recall that the only man that genuinely made you smile so much was Johnny.
And well, you’re not quite sure how to feel about this.
The only thing you feel is the disappointment when he drops you back home and you know you won’t get a good fuck out of that — amazing — night.
“So, did you have a great time?” He asks, rubbing his hands together to warm them while he turns his torso to stare at you, and you see his eyes linger on you a bit more, probably wanting to take in for the last time how beautiful you looked that night, not that he ever stopped reminding you.
“Yeah,” you whisper, almost shily. “It was fun, and the food was so good.” Yeah, the food. Not you. Absolutely not you. Never you.
Haechan smiles, nodding. “Glad you had fun; I’ve never been there, so it was a shot in the dark.”
“Mhh,” you hum, staring at his lips, thinking how badly you want them on you before shaking your head. “It was a good shot in the dark.”
“Yeah, sometimes I don’t make a mess,” he jokes, and you let out a laugh too. Good for you, you think. You always make a mess, no matter how hard you try to avoid it.
“Well, it’s… kinda late,” you start saying, rubbing your arms with your palms, and tapping your heels, hoping he would make a move and drive you to his place, as if he could mentally get you and know that you’re insane and there are only five people that can set foot in your house.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking at you. Probably thinking the same, it’s only logical for him to expect you to be the one to make the first move, your place is right behind you, and you only have to ask him to go inside. But you don’t. And he doesn’t even think about kissing you, of course, he doesn’t, you didn’t even let him kiss you while he was fucking you, he’s sure you would slap him if he only moved closer now.
“‘Kay,” you sigh, undoing the belt and placing your hand on the handle, “I’ll go in. Thanks for the night, the drive, the food, and the laughs.” A tender smile is sitting on your face when you say that to him before making your way out, bending to say goodbye again, just in time to get the thin veil of slight disappointment and sadness in his eyes.
“That’s what matters,” he smiles. “We can do this again. If you want to,” he adds, panicking, almost as if he had asked to marry you just to regret it two seconds later.
“Yeah, we can,” you smile. “It’s pretty chilly out here, so,” you shrug, “goodnight?”
“Can’t wait to see you again, then. Goodnight,” he says before waving at you.
You see he waits for you to get inside before his car starts again to head home and you find yourself grinning like a fool when the door closes behind you.
Yeah, he’s definitely a loser.
You could call that the start of your friendship, but surely not where the benefits started. Actually, the whole sex thing took a toll for a few weeks where you only got to know each other and hung out casually. You can’t lie, you were sad about it, and you thought you screw it all up that night when you didn’t let him in; nothing could’ve gone wrong for one time you let him in, right? He would’ve fucked you into the weekend, making you see heaven, and then you could’ve kicked him out of the house, right? But you didn’t, and now you are here, absorbed in your torments, trying to find a way to get back to where you started, possibly without ruining your friendship, of course.
You know the chemistry between you two is still there, but it’s like he’s holding back. You surely aren’t; flirting shamelessly with him, sometimes even in front of your — now common — friends (no need to worry about Johnny, he knows you can flirt with plants when you’re in a peak of insanity and good mood, nothing of your remarks is ever serious — it is with Haechan, but he doesn’t know — you just have zero skills of keeping your tongue inside your mouth and your thoughts inside your brain).
So, you understand that you need to make a bolder move, the dinners and the meets up around town aren’t working, and your move is Johnny and another night out at the club.
It works. After dancing together almost all night in a corner of the club, you find yourself pressed against a wall while his hands run on your body and his lips — shily — kiss your neck, and you know you got him.
“Your place,” you slur, pushing him away, and grabbing his hand to drag him to get your jackets.
“But Mark’s at —”
“As far as I am concerned, Mark can listen to us all night, I don’t care. We’re not fucking in the car.”
“Your place. What about your pla—” he tries to argue but your glare when you turn around and you’re now face to face stops him.
“Your place, now.”
He’s good at following orders, or maybe you’re just scary when you want to, but whatever the motive, all that matters to you is that after a fifteen minutes drive — the longest of your life — and a few minutes walk from the car to the apartment, you have Haechan buried between your legs, eating you out as if that’s what he was sent on earth to do.
You wish you could care about trying to keep it low and don’t moan loudly for Mark, but when Haechan slips two fingers in you and starts sucking on your clit with more strength, his poor roommate slips out of your mind completely.
“Fuck,” you moan as your head rolls back, rubbing against the pillows of his bed, and your legs part unconsciously.
“You’re so embarrassingly wet,” Haechan notices, standing on his elbow and licking his lips clean with a flick of his tongue. “Bet even Mark can hear how wet you are,” he mocks, quickening the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, causing the lewd sounds of your wetness to be even louder.
“Shut up!” You groan, slamming your hand next to you on the mattress before your fist moves in a ball and traps the sheets between your fingers.
Haechan grins, and a chuckle rolls from his lips while his eyes skim your face, meeting your eyes that are — pathetically — trying to glare at him. “You’re so pretty like this, you know?”
Another annoyed grunt slips out of your mouth, and you move your head to the side to avoid seeing his face.
But Haechan clicks his tongue and pulls out of you, making you whine and move your hand to bring his fingers right where they were. He’s faster than you when he sits up and cups your face with his clean hand as his fingers plunge back into you with no warning, cutting the air in your lungs and causing your eyes to flutter shut.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he orders and you unwillingly open them again, locking them in his. “That’s it, pretty girl.”
The way those two words roll from his lips shouldn’t make your stomach twist, but they do, you prefer blaming it on the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, brushing against your sweet spot and driving you closer to the climax second after second.
“I’m...” you mumble, chest lifting erratically because the eye contact is driving you more insane than his hand in you, “...close.”
The grin that appears on his face is so slappable but you have no strength to lift your hand and do anything, and Haechan can see it in your eyes. That’s how he wants you, speechless.
“Come for me, babe,” he urges you, pressing his thumb on your clit and moving it in circles.
“Fuck,” you rasp out, your hand reaches his wrist, and he shakes his head, tsking.
“No, you’re not pushing me away,” he says, but he doesn’t move your hand away, you are not even trying to push him off, well, you are, but the attempt is laughable and embarrassing.
“Too much, too much,” you cry out, voice coming out muffled by his hand still wrapped around your chin. “Haechan, please.”
“Come, we both know you can take much more, don’t play with me,” he growls, leaning in to trap your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “Be good and come for me, would you?”
You moan and hum against his lips, your hand around his wrist tightens the grip but not to push him away, to hold onto him while his fingers move even faster in and out, your hips buck up and your feet press against the mattress while he keeps you down. You feel like you can’t breathe when the orgasm breaks through and you see stars, shaking under him as you feel the grin on his face as he muffles your whimpers in his mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out, slapping his hand away when he doesn’t stop moving after your high dimmed down. “Haechan, fucking stop.”
He laughs deeply and stands away from you, his fingers slip out of you but soon after they’re inside his mouth as he licks them clean while staring straight into your eyes.
“You will drive me insane,” you mutter low enough only for you to hear and Haechan raises a brow, silently questioning you to repeat, but you won’t tell him that. “Fuck me,” you request instead, sitting and grabbing the hem of your shirt to lift it off your head, throwing it around the room.
“Hey, I wanted to undress you,” he pouts, watching you unclasp the bra that meets the same fate as the shirt soon after.
“Too late, should’ve thought about it before.”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t move from his position, too busy staring at your naked form. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Your eyes roll back in your skull while a heavy sigh leaves your lips. “Great, can you fuck me, please,” your voice is venomously nice, and gets him on top of you in a second.
“Though it was too much? Are you sure you can take it?”
“If you don’t fuck me, I’ll ask Mark to do it and will make you watch while you’re tied to a chair.”
He whistles with enthusiasm, raising a brow, “That sounds pretty hot, you know? But I don’t think Mark’s the type to enjoy these things. Should we ask somebody else?”
“Is there anything that is actually a threat to you or are you so horny that anything is a possibility?”
“Don’t know,” he whispers with a light tone as he leans in and starts kissing your neck, moving down until his lips wrap around your hard nipple, sucking harshly enough to make you hiss before he keeps talking, “isn’t life boring if you don’t at least try everything once?”
Your stare could burn him alive. “I swear this is the last time you’re fucking me.”
“Oh, shut up,” he groans, kissing you to silence you. “Anything legal and not dangerous.”
“I don’t care about that,” you almost scream. “Just fuck me, now.”
“Ask nicely,” he coos, caressing your cheek with the back of his index finger and you glare at him.
“Mark.”
“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and before you can say another word he slips into you. Your teeth trap your lower lip to muffle a high moan to be heard in the entire house and your nails dig into his back. “Gave you what you wanted.”
“Not yet,” you whisper through gritted teeth as your body gets used to his size. “Fuck me.”
“As you wish,” he replies, adjusting better between your legs to find the right position, and after a few seconds, he’s thrusting into you. This is ten times more comfortable than the fuck in the car and you can’t believe it’s happening again. “Yeah, definitely like you better like this,” he comments with a cocky smirk, his eyes are still on your face, and his hands are holding tight on your hips.
“Like you better when you fuck me and keep your mouth shut,” you bite back. You don’t know why you two get so heated up during sex — fair, two times is not enough to draw conclusions and come up with statistics, but to you, it’s clear this is the way you two talk to each other when things get spicy — when you talk normally, you’re not like this.
Haechan rolls his eyes and grunts as he pushes with more vigor inside you, swiftly pushing your thighs against your chest with his body, and blocking your wrists over your head. His lips crush messily against yours, trapping them in a rough kiss.
Your eyes roll in the back of your head when he hits the sensitive spot inside you, and your legs immediately wrap around his waist to keep him close to you. You haven’t died yet — obviously — but this feels like the closest thing to heaven — you doubt you’ll go to heaven, to be honest — but anyway this; his hips rolling against you so perfectly, his hand on your hip and the other around your wrist, his lips on your neck and collarbones, and his cock buried deep into you, this is a taste of heaven, the higher you ever felt and probably will ever feel. And it feels humiliating that he’s got you like this after the second time together, but you don’t want to fight the feeling.
And you don’t. You moan, even letting out chants of his name shamelessly, and he has to remind you with an amused grin that you’re not alone. Mark is right next door and as funny as it might be, Haechan is not sure he wants to share you in any kind of way, no, not even the way you whimper and squirm under him.
“Keep quiet, babe,” he hushes you, kissing you again, and you have no strength to push him off. Maybe you can get used to his kisses, after all, it’s just sex, and for some spell, Haechan turns everything he does into sex, so a few heated kisses while he pounds into you until the bed squeaks won’t make you fall head over heels for him.
You nod, eyelids fluttering as you try to focus on him. His brown hair is falling on his forehead, and there’s a cute, sexy, frown in the middle of his forehead, while his eyes are staring into yours, and you feel the knot in your stomach tug strongly, making your breath cut short. He is so intense, it’s like he can reach so deep into you and discover parts of you that are still untouched.
“Haechan, fuck,” your voice gets higher when he pulls your hips closer to him and changes angle to fuck into you better, “I won’t last.”
He snorts, “Good.”
“No, no good, I…” I want you. I want you all night. I want you all over me until your smell consumes mine. You want to scream but it’s too pathetic. You never went this far for some sex. But nobody ever felt this good either.
“I can fuck you all night,” he chuckles while his thumb finds your clit and starts torturing you even more. “Don’t believe me?”
You groan. You do. You just know. He’s been sent by the gods at this point and you’re sure you won’t find flaws in him anytime soon, but you can’t. You can’t stay the night. You can’t let him get so deep into your skin so soon.
“Come,” he urges you, “don’t hold back.”
Your jaw tenses before going slack when he flicks your clit just right, triggering your orgasm. It’s intense, running into you from head to toe with so much force that you have to slap your hand on your mouth to avoid waking Mark up. You think Haechan’s close too, you can hear how his moans got lighter and whinier, but once again, he surprises you.
You don’t have time to complain when Haechan pulls away, leaving you empty. He turns you around, lightly slapping your asscheek to order you to get on your knees while your shoulders stay flat on the mattress, you wouldn’t have the strength to stand on your arm even if you wanted to.
“Want one more?” He asks against your ear, teasing his tip against your soaked entrance and brushing it against your throbbing clit in quick motions.
You hum, nodding against the pillow, “Please, please, fuck me again.”
You almost feel the smirk against your face before he fills you once more, stretching your sensitive pussy, making more of your cum drip out of you.
Your eyes fall shout, a raspy, low moan slips out of your lips, this position is making you feel him even more as the first orgasm has enhanced your senses. You feel like a puddle under him.
“You feel so good, baby,” he groans, throwing his head back as he picks up the rhythm of before, holding onto your hips so tightly his nails sink into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “So warm and wet for me.”
You hide your head between the pillows, biting back the moans, wondering why Mark didn’t push down the door already because there’s no way he’s not hearing all of this. But for some reason, the idea of him listening turns you on even more.
And it’s like Haechan gets it. He leans back against you, brushing your hair away so his lips can be right against your earlobe. “What are you thinking, babe?”
“Ma-mark,” you slur through ragged breaths, “not him, not like,” the words die in your throat, afraid he might misunderstand, “what if he knows?”
Haechan’s laugh hits you straight to the core, it’s deep and mocking, and you clench harder around him. “Oh, honey,” he whispers, and his voice feels like honey, thick and velvety, “I think he knows.”
You shake your head, trying to convince yourself he might be a heavy sleeper, but your body is following another direction, feeling excited just at the idea, so you push your ass up.
“You can’t keep quiet, you’re so fucking loud it’s like you want to get caught,” he taunts, smacking the side of your thighs, smirking when your muscles tense in response. “Want him to know I’m making you feel this good?”
You deny with a movement of your head, but words fail to come out because you feel on the edge again and you don’t know how much longer you can last.
Haechan clicks his tongue and then presses his chest against your back. “Let’s see if this can keep you quiet.” The last thing you expect are his fingers pushed into your mouth, but after the first surprise, you don’t even complain. Your mouth wraps around his three digits and you start to suck on them eagerly, receiving a moan of approval from him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He knows he won’t last when your eyes flutter at the compliment and you start sucking on them even harder, he can only think about you taking his cock instead.
“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles, as the images in his fantasy and the one in front of his eyes start having the best on him, hips starting to lose control, “I’m close.”
You start fucking back into him, and that’s the last thing he needs to come. His moans are higher, and when you turn your head to the side you see his trying to hold them in, biting his lips and gripping your hips tighter with the hand that is not in your mouth.
The sight of him losing his mind is enough to make you lose yours. You’re in ecstasy as your orgasm pervades your body.
“Shit,” Haechan growls one last time, his fingers slip out of your mouth and he pulls out of you before he’d like to, squirting some of his cum on your ass and thighs. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”
You barely realize what he’s talking about, but honestly, you don’t care. For what you’re concerned, after the fuck you had, he could’ve come all over you and you wouldn’t have minded.
“It’s fine,” you breathe out. Your eyes fall shut as you focus on your erratic breath, feeling him slump next to you without any other words.
“Are you okay? Was it too much?” He asks, and at first, you think he’s bragging but when your eyes meet, you realize he’s being genuine. So you nod and beam at him as the only reply you can give him at the moment.
You lie in silence for a bit, your bodies are not touching and you can only feel his heavy breath calm down with yours as you both wait for your body to cool down again. You don’t wait to be fully recovered to stand up and slip out of the covers, too afraid that sleep will take over you and block you at his side.
“What are you doing?” He questions, staring at you with an arm under his head.
“Putting my clothes back on,” you reply with a lift of shoulders as if that wasn’t obvious. You try to search for a bin where you can throw the tissues you used to clean yourself but you can’t find any, so you remind yourself to search in the kitchen before leaving.
“You can wear something mine.”
“I would have to hand it back next time we see each other, I can survive in this a bit longer.”
“You’re sleeping with those clothes?” Confusion blooms on his face as he watches your shaky hands struggle with the zip.
“No, I’ll change myself into my nightgown.”
A frown almost connects his brows before he voices out his doubts, “I don’t have it here.”
“I’m leaving,” you say with a hint of annoyance, he thought you were sleeping there, really?
“Leaving? You can stay.”
You don’t answer immediately, grabbing your phone to book a ride home, and then reply while shoving the phone in your bag. “No, thanks.”
“Do I have to drive you home?”
“No, I’ve already called a Uber.”
You see Haechan’s mouth move but nothing comes out and he only stretches his limbs. “I think that might take a while to arrive, though. It’s cold outside.”
“It’s spring,” you say, walking to the mirror on wobbly legs to make sure you look decent, fixing your air and clothes.
“It’s still cold. At least wait in the living room,” he proposes, now sitting on the mattress as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
“I’ll be fine,” you smile, turning around, and holding your bag on your shoulder. “I survived walking in a wood at night when I was fifteen, I can survive waiting under your building’s porch.”
“You’re always so — so,” he sighs, shaking his head, giving up finding an adjective to describe you.
You chuckle, “Always? And you don’t know me yet.”
“It sounds like a threat,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.
You open the door, and take a step outside, only showing him your face as you wink, “Oh, it is.”
Probably there was some magic in the air — the polluted air of the city made some kind of magic happen — but from then on, Haechan stopped holding back. He wasn’t shy when he texted you ‘house empty, wanna come over?’ leaving no doubts about what was going to happen if you said yes. You found it funny how he treated Mark like his parents, especially after you were sure he heard you fuck that night, but of course, you said yes.
pathetic loser
dinner at that trashy fast food place with the arcade and then dessert at my place😉
And you said yes.
pathetic loser
i’m busy this friday but marks’s out saturday so we have the whole day to ourselves
And you said yes. p.s: he made you come like ten times, so it was worth it.
pathetic loser
wanna skip the group hang out and fuck around?
And you said yes.
You kept saying yes until you also started asking, and he obviously didn’t decline. It flowed and usually, you didn’t like to leave things unnamed, but you were terrified that if you asked, ‘what are we?’ he would’ve run away scared or, worse, confessed with his big brown eyes and that fucking glint they had inside.
You didn’t need him anyway to know what you were. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, sex partners, or any other name you want to give it, you were that. Nothing more and nothing less.
It still wasn’t your typical thing. You two never sat down and discussed anything, your dear boundaries were nowhere to be found, or better, they existed, somehow he respected them, but you never said them out loud. Not that it was hard to get them, when you never invited him home, never leaned in for a kiss, and never stayed over, he knew your limits and that he had to respect them.
So, everything worked perfectly fine.
Until your rules started to be broken one by one before you could even notice, or better, before you could care to fix all the changes that were happening in your life because of Haechan.
pathetic loser
hey
me and the boys are going on a trip to the coast this weekend
wanna come along?
you
who are the boys?
pathetic loser
yes, johnny is coming
You roll your eyes at the screen before tapping a reply.
you
didn’t ask that : /
but yes, need some time off
you will pick me up, right?
pathetic loser
you’re so pretentious
don’t you think i should propose to you to come pick you up like a gentleman?
you
fine gentleman, pick me up at my place, see you this friday!
pathetic loser
i can’t stand you
It’s Johnny’s fault. It’s his house on the coast, his parents’, to be precise. It’s his fault if right now you have Haechan so close and can’t make a move because whatever is going on between you two is a secret.
You’re still not sure why it wasn’t Johnny the one to invite you there, you wonder if maybe Haechan slipped and confessed to him that something is going on between you, but you’re sure that Johnny would’ve already bragged to you about how he made the ‘perfect match’ or how it was thanks to him you were finally getting laid, surely after screaming at you because ‘we never keep things a secret from each other’.
You’re brought out of your thoughts when a ball hits you and you lift your head to see Mark running to you, mumbling apologies as if he had stabbed you.
“I’m fine, it’s just a ball,” you smile to reassure him and lift a hand to cover your eyes because the sun is annoying you. Unfortunately, the sun is not blinding you enough for your wishes because you can perfectly see Haechan playing volleyball a few meters in front of you. You’re sitting on the sand, a sundress on you, while the others left you to play. You weren’t in the mood, too busy letting your thoughts get the best of you, a mix of lewd images of what you would’ve done to the man you couldn’t drift your eyes from and sadness looming over your head like a cartoon cloud.
“Hey, want something to drink?” You’re still so caught up that you don’t realize Haechan is talking to you. His blouse is big and covers his body, only leaving his arms exposed and a small portion of his chest — he doesn’t like to show much of his body — and you get lost in his sun-kissed skin another time, but when he calls your name, you shake your head and cough, trying to play it cool.
“Yes, what?”
“We’re grabbing something to drink, want some?”
“Oh, yeah, some tea.”
“Got it,” he says as if he’s accepting a commend and waves you goodbye before running to the others and you follow him with your gaze until he gets out of your line of view.
You sigh, fanning yourself because even if luckily today the weather is not too hot, you still can’t stand the heat sticking to your skin. You’ve pondered before about jumping in the sea and freshening up, but if just seeing the others having fun had brought back too many — painful — memories, you’re not so sure you can take having ‘fun’ in person.
“Here’s your tea,” Haechan says after a while with a bottle in hand, once again pulling you out of the tornado of melancholia that was drowning you.
You smile, lifting your head and grabbing the drink from his hand. “Peach? How do you know it’s my favorite?”
“You told me,” he replies, sitting next to you, a bit too close, but you don’t scoot over, you like the way your legs brush against each other and also the fact he decided to sit with you and not with your group of friends near the volleyball net.
“Did I? When?”
Haechan laughs at the surprised expression that creates a cute, small crease on your forehead and says, “the few times we had a serious conversation that didn’t include dirty talking?”
You roll your eyes, open the lid and take a sip of the cold liquid, immediately feeling better. “You make it sound as if we don’t hang out normally.”
“We do,” he replies but it’s like he’s not done, as if there’s something more he wants to tell or confess. He stops for a second, sipping on his bottle while staring at the sea at the horizon before resting his forearm on his knees and sighing, “but you never say anything about yourself.”
You chuckle nervously, fingers fidgeting with the cap of the bottle. “What’s to know about me?”
“Everything. You’re a secret.”
You can hear the bittersweetness in his tone, and if you’d stare for a second more, you would also catch it in his eyes, but you dismiss him and the things he’s silently telling you with his body. You sneer under your breath and shake your shoulders before words roll from your mouth. “Secrets are exciting.”
He nods, pressing his lips in a thin line to hold in a groan of disagreement. “When you know them and you have to keep them away from the rest of the world.”
“You want to keep me away?” You joke tenderly, meeting his brown eyes, even warmer and more welcoming now that the sunlight is reflecting in them.
He laughs, shaking his head. This time he’s the one diverting his gaze, the next words that are about to come out sound too vulnerable in his head and he doesn’t want to imagine how heavy they will sound out loud. “I’m just saying, I would keep some things of you only for me to know.”
You hum, nodding while staring at the sand, showing nonchalance even if there’s a circus in your stomach. Maybe you can give him something without breaking another one of your rules, but you soon realize that he already knows the small things about you that you told him to get to know each other. He knows where you work, he knows you have a brother, and you know he has two and a sister. He knows you once found a grass snake in a park and took it home because you wanted a snake pet and your father almost threw you outside (affectionately, no kids or animals were hurt, you just had to give it back to nature). He knows your birthday and your favorite color. Isn’t that enough?
“There’s nothing to know about me.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re boring, aren’t you?” He mocks with sarcasm and his head falls back in annoyance. “You don’t strike as the bland type of person so try again.”
“I just don’t get what you want to know. Ask me questions and I’ll answer.” And I’ll lie, that’s what you truly think.
But Haechan shakes his head, gulping down another mouthful of water. “Nevermind, you don’t get it.”
No, you don’t get it, or maybe you’re pretending not to get it, that he wants to know you. He wants to learn by watching, by studying you, but you always slip away, you don’t let him close. He doesn’t care about questions, this is not a quiz for him, but maybe that’s the fun of you. He has to work extra hard. And he will.
“It’s pretty here.” Haechan’s voice fills the night air, it’s chilly outside, and you’re sitting on the small sofa under the porch. There’s nobody but the two of you at home, the others decided to go out and visit the small coastal town at night, but you were too tired to drag your feet any longer, and honestly, you thought you were all alone.
You hum, moving to the side to leave him some space next to you. “We used to come here during summer,” you let out, and it’s impossible to control the smile on your face when you remember your childhood with your and Johnny’s family. “I always sat here at night, I liked the quiet of the beach and the lights of the towns of the coast. My brother didn’t get it,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “he was too busy playing with Johnny. Even when they stopped being best friends, it was like something shifted in summer. Something about this place feels… different.”
Haechan smiles, he’s not staring at the view, his eyes are locked on you. He thinks that you are different here. He can’t say you two aren’t close, but it’s clear you never let him too close, and he’d like to know why. He knows exactly where your relationship stands, it’s just sex, and he’s fine like this, really, but he wonders if you only do it to protect your heart from unwanted inconveniences or if you don’t trust him enough to let him in. He often thought about prying it with Johnny, but he knows that as soon as your name will slip out of his lips, Johnny will twist everything, and probably that would drift you even further from him. You never had a conversation but it’s clear you both want to keep this between you.
“It feels like the world stops here,” he says instead to don’t let the conversation die before moving his gaze away, hearing you hum an affirmative response.
It really feels like time has stopped, and there’s undefined electricity running between you, it’s the same as always and it’s different at the same time.
“Johnny didn’t tell me about this,” you breathe out; you know it could end in a catastrophe, but you need answers. “Did he ask you to invite me, or did you do it?”
Haechan doesn’t answer right away, you see him gulp and you fear the worst. There it is, the confession you don’t need, you don’t want it, because he is the best sex you ever had, nobody ever made you feel like that, he completely unplugs your brain and for a few hours, you can leave all your problems at the door, and also because after all, he’s a good friend, and love would screw this all up.
“He told me I could invite some other of our friends,” he replies, “and I asked about you, and he told me I could ask. He was going to invite you, but I did it first,” he explains, playing with a loose string of his shorts that are barely covering his thighs. “Why?”
You shrug, it’s the only thing you can do, a breath of relief would be too obvious. “Nothing, I was just wondering. Usually, he organizes these things with me.”
“Oh,” he whispers, “I think that initially it was supposed to be a boys’ thing only, then Mark brought up Minjeong and here we are.”
You know he doesn’t mean it that way, but that ‘here we are’ makes shivers run down your spine. Because here you are. This is the closest thing to breaking rule number 3 and 4 and so many others. It’s just the two of you, watching the sunset while the sea plays its melody just for you to listen. This is romantic. He’s not fucking you shamelessly under the porch where everyone can see. You are laughing together, passing a bottle of soju, and sharing touches that feel too intimate. You can’t break any more rules.
“I was thinking — oh, shit,” Haechan mumbles before you shut him up by jumping on him and crashing his lips on yours, your fingers locking immediately in his hair and pulling it back harshly. “Wow, fuck, needy tonight?”
You don’t reply, your lips move down to bite his neck while your hips start grinding on him.
“Calm down, damn, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, wrapping his hands on your waist now that the shock is gone, “and don’t mark me, you don’t want the others to find out, right?”
No, you don’t. Or maybe you do, maybe it’s time for something to happen and break you and him apart. Cause you feel you’re going down a slippery slope and you don’t like this. Maybe you should fuck this whole thing up like you always do. But you can’t, deep down, you don’t want to.
“It’s only been a week,” Haechan mumbles through the kiss. “You’re so needy.”
“Can you just shut up?” You argue, pressing your hips down on him, smirking when you feel his dick start to press up against you. “So, you do want me.”
He snorts, “Of course, I do. I wasn’t rejecting, I was just pointing out — fuck,” he whimpers breathlessly when you bite his lips and his nails dig in the exposed skin of your back, your crop top leaving so much bare.
“Want you,” you say as if you have to make it any more obvious.
“It’s a bit too public, don’t you think so?”
You shake your head, moving a hand between your bodies to open the button of your shorts but he stops you again, forcing your hands behind your back, catching you by surprise.
“I’d love to fuck you right here, in front of the sea and the sunset, but if one of our friends comes back before time, we’re fucked with no way out, so… can we take it inside?”
You nod, mumbling a faint positive answer, thinking of getting up and running upstairs, but Haechan has no intention of breaking the contact. He lifts you up after freeing your hands so you can secure them around his neck and then pushes the front door open.
“Let’s give it a turn of keys,” he says, twisting the keys in the lock so you’ll have extra time if by the time they’ll come back you won’t be done. You wait patiently, enjoying the way it feels to be in his arms, and let him carry you on the second floor where the bedroom you share is. Was it a great thing or a curse, you still can’t tell, but for now it seems like a good thing.
When you cross the doorframe, the clothes are on the floor in less than a minute and your bodies are already tangled in the bedsheets, hands running on each other with eager and soft whimpers filling those four walls.
You don’t keep track of how long you spend kissing — or eating each other — but you’re sure a few minutes pass by of you just grinding against each other while your tongues and lips meet in a mess.
“Fuck,” Haechan whispers, his hot breath puffing against your warm, wet, now plumper, lips. “Com’ere.” He lays on the bed, patting the space next to his face and you stare at him with confused eyes. He sighs, “On my face, honey. On my face.”
“Oh.”
He quirks a brow. “You were so eager before, what happened?”
You shake your head, moving closer to him, planting your knees at the sides of his chest. “I was, I mean, I am, I want you.”
“So? On my face.”
“I — I don’t…”
Haechan’s eyes roll back and a heavy annoyed groan comes out of his mouth, “Oh God, don’t tell me your ex never done that?”
“Hyuck, he would rarely eat me out while I was laying, do you think he would make me sit on his face?”
“Asshole.”
“Haechan!”
“He’s an asshole, you know it! But I’m not, so come here and sit on your throne.”
“You didn’t just call your face my throne?” Your tone is a mix of annoyance and incredulity, but you actually found that too hot to handle.
“I very much did. And now, do I have to drag you or will you fucking sit?”
You gulp, nodding swiftly, but your legs are slower at moving next to his face and he doesn’t like your hesitation. You yelp when his hands grab your ass and your thigh and pull you right where he wanted you.
“Was it that hard?” He asks teasingly, almost growling so close to your skin, before winking at your flustered face.
The sight of him under you, and his breath colliding with your pussy, make your knees tremble already. “No — no.”
“Good. But you still didn’t listen,” he says sternly.
“I did, I’m on your face,” you defend.
“Are you sitting?”
“No.”
“What are you waiting for? Do I have to do everything tonight?” His tone is getting lower, and the edge of anger in it causes your pussy to clench around nothing.
“But I will… I will break your neck.”
“And I will die like a man,” he insists, challenging you with a glare.
“No, it’s —”
His mad, animalistic, growl on your pussy when he forcefully slams you on him makes you choke on a moan and throw your head back while your hands automatically grab the headboard to hold onto something. Haechan tends to always be messy when he eats you out, he never does things you don’t like, but he has to make sure you know he’s enjoying it, so he’s always a bit messier and louder than he has to be. But this time he’s taking his everything to let you know how badly he wants you. His fingers are planted on your skin, his nose is pressing right against your clit while his tongue moves to leave kitten licks that quickly turn into open-mouthed kisses.
“Fuck,” you moan, hands clenching tight around the bar, and head falling down to see him. His eyes are closed and he’s having the time of his life as he sucks at your clit and lips with eagerness.
“You’re so hot from here,” he mumbles, stopping only for a second to catch his breath before he resumes his movements. His pink muscle moves down, teasing your entrance, slurping up the juices that are dripping out of you, and when your thighs clench around his head in response, he groans gutturally.
You think you hurt him and try to pull up, but he forces you down with strength.
“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, glaring at you, and you can only hum in reply, feeling your body melt under his skilled movements.
When Haechan’s lips dare to move down on your sensitive rim, you jolt, but he’s fast at keeping you in place, his hands on your thighs as he presses them down and sends you a daring glare.
“Hae — I don’t think…”
“Yeah, exactly, don’t think,” he snarls, the movements on you getting sloppier and louder, making you start to grind against him unconsciously.
Moans choke you up as he explores new things with you, sending you into a new dimension. You can’t fully comprehend you’re sitting on top of his face while he messily eats out your pussy and your ass. You can’t believe he’s moaning under you, holding you tight, one hand busy touching your ass while the other wonders on your upper chest caressing your waist and your boobs.
You feel high and drunk on him. So much you can barely mutter a warning before you come, shaking on top of him, your movements are frenetic as you reach your peak while cries of his name slur out of your mouth with low moans. A tear almost slips from your eyes when Haechan doesn’t stop right away and keeps stimulating your sensitive spots, it’s too much and you collapse on the other side, trying to catch your breath.
Haechan chuckles, licking up your juices before rubbing his nose against your neck. “Fuck, I’d eat you out for days,” he comments, rubbing his hands on your stomach. “You’re so pretty when you moan and squirm, whether on top of me or under, and you taste so good.”
“You never let me pay you back.”
He giggles, kissing you, “you don’t have to.”
“But maybe I want to,” you pout. You can’t deny that you live for how much Haechan loves giving you oral, but you enjoy sucking him off just as much. You love how he lets you have control, how husky and warm his moans are, and you love when his hands weakly wrap around your hair… well, he only let you do it once but you had the time of your life and that never happened when you went down with your ex so…
“Have you ever tried anal?” He asks out of nowhere, surprising you.
“With someone? No. By myself… maybe…”
He raises a brow while a smirk curls his lips. “Maybe? What kind of answer is that?”
“I did,” you confess, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“Uh,” he coos, poking your side playfully, “had fun?”
You lick your lips, shrugging. “Fine, I did. I think I like it, but it might be different with, you know, a real person.”
“Would you try?” He asks timidly, looking at you with puppy eyes. As if he has to beg to make you do something, as if he doesn’t know you would try anything with him.
“Yeah, why not.”
“Good, fuck,” he kisses you after letting out the breath he was holding in. “Wanna fuck your ass,” he whispers against your neck, but you can feel the ear-to-ear smile on his face, “wanna be your first time.”
You’d dwell on how cheesy that sounds a bit more if only it wasn’t for his hands groping your ass and squeezing hard while he ruts against your thigh like a pup in heat.
“You’re pathetic,” you mock playfully, tugging his hair back, eliciting a broken moan from him.
“And you’re hot,” he breathes out, moving on top of you to shush you with a kiss while his right arm falls under the bed to search for something. “Been thinking about this all day. You looked so pretty in that short white dress.”
A small smile paints on your face, but it drops when he keeps rummaging in his bag next to the bag. “Can’t you get up to get, I guess, the lube?”
“No,” he almost growls. “Want you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, come on, need you to fuck me.”
“You’re so impatient,” he groans, “but I got it!” He lifts his hand, showing you the small bottle of lube and you snicker at his proud smile.
“You’re such a loser, you’re lucky you’re with me because anybody else would’ve been out of the door by now.”
“And they would lose the best dick of their life, so, dumb decision,” Haechan says before his lips crash on yours again. “And you’re not that dumb, right?”
You shake your head, already feeling your breathing get shorter when his lube-covered fingers start playing with your rim.
“You looked so, so fucking hot in that short sundress, fuck,” he moans, pulling away to sit between your legs, he pushes a finger inside and you bite back a moan. “Wanted to press you against the handrail and fuck you right there on the restaurant balcony.”
Your head rolls back, thinking of that afternoon. The tension between you could be cut with a knife, and there was something thrilling about the way you couldn’t keep your eyes — and hands — off each other and still had to keep it a secret.
“You should’ve,” you breathe out, choking on your words when he starts fucking you with another finger, curling them inside and stretching you to get your hole ready for him.
“Yeah? You would’ve liked it?”
You nod, staring into his eyes with a teasing glare. “Maybe I should’ve sat on top of you,” you stop to swallow, eyes squeezing when he brushes his thumb on your dripping pussy and starts teasing it, “on your lap and tried to — to keep it cool.”
He smirks, tilting his head before he pulls his fingers out. “I think you’re ready for me. You always are, right?”
“Yeah.”
You are, but when his thick cock pushes into you it still takes your breath away. Your fingers and your little purple toy can’t compare to him, they don’t fill you like this, and they don’t feel so good.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb on your waist in circular motions, “taking me all like a good girl.”
You bite back a groan and throw your head back, breathing deeper and longer before you reach his hand and beg him to move.
Haechan sneakers, “only if you keep telling me your little fantasy.”
“I — I don’t think I can,” you confess; he’s barely moving into you, only making circular motions brushing against your sensitive spot, and you already feel weak.
“I’m sure you can,” he smiles, “I didn’t fuck you dumb, yet.”
Your holes clench at his words and you gather your sanity to keep talking. “Sitting on your lap, trying to — trying not to fuck up and down on your dick,” you force out when he keeps his promise and starts moving in and out, gripping your hips tight to angle you just how he knows you like it best.
“You think you can resist it? Stay on my dick without moving?”
“Ye-yes.”
He laughs, throwing his head back as he starts snapping his hips faster. “You’re so confident, baby. I would love to see it all fall down.”
“But if I did, they would find out.”
“Yeah, and think about it, I’d bend you over the table while everyone watches you get fucked dumb. Would you say no?”
You nod, failing to give him a stronger verbal answer.
“Liar,” he spits out, grabbing your thighs to push them up. “Every time I fuck you with Mark in the other room you moan even louder.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh, no?” He tsks, cupping your cheeks. “Honey, you love putting on shows. Or is it just for me?”
“For you,” you confess, voice muffled by the pression he’s applying on your face.
The smirk that curls his lips is smug and cocky. “That little dress was for me?”
You nod and his smile grows bigger before it turns into a pout.
“I didn’t get to take it off.”
“You were supposed to — fuck — to fuck me in it,” you mumble, catching your breath when his hold on you loosens.
“Next time,” he groans, “or maybe tomorrow.”
You don’t reply, only cry out louder when you come unexpectedly, taking you both by surprise.
“I’m — I’m sorry, it — shit — it felt too good, I,” you don’t truly know how to justify yourself because you don’t know why you’re so sensitive tonight.
“Shut up,” Haechan stops you with a kiss, “I know you can’t help it when you’re with me.”
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you retort, rolling your eyes.
“But you love it,” he smirks. “Come here.” He pulls out of you, slapping your thigh as he orders you to sit up. “Want me to fuck you hard?”
You nod, crawling to him at the end of the bed on your own, cupping his face to pull him in a rough kiss as your fingers slip in his hair, and his hands reach your asscheeks, shamelessly parting them before he spanks you hard.
“Can you take it?” He asks against your lips, rubbing his thumb against your jaw before he brushes it on your open mouth, staring into your eyes.
“Ye-yes,” you say but your voice is shaking. When his hand wraps around your neck to tease a kiss that he never gives you, you frown, and he snorts.
“You’re so cute, you know?” His patronizing tone makes more wetness drool down your thighs but you still find the strength to push his buttons.
“And you’re hard, you didn’t come once, yet. Shouldn’t you fix this?”
He doesn’t reply, he pushes you onto the bed, making you face the only mirror in the room, it’s not extremely close to the bed but you’re sure it will do for whatever he has in mind.
“I think you’re so pretty when I touch you, kiss you, tease you,” he whispers against your ear, “fuck you,” he fucks into you without warning, and you gasp, “it’s a shame you don’t get to see it. To watch your pride slip out of you every time that I’m inside you.”
Your head rolls down when he starts fucking into you faster than before but he shakes his head, clicks his tongue, and pushes you up with a tug on the makeshift ponytail. “You’re not running away from me, babe,” he says. “You might not let me into your true self but I have you turned inside out when you’re under me.”
You blink your eyes, staring at him through the mirror, feeling small because you feel like you can’t keep up with his gaze. Haechan has control, he does have you in the palm of your hand, now, only when he fucks you, and you can’t care to mind.
You want him to fuck you until there’s nothing more in your brain. You want him to know all the small things that make you feel good. Because nobody before him even wanted to know them, to own you like this, and you don’t want him to stop.
“Look at you,” he whispers, biting your earlobe, “is it so terrible to not have everything under control?” You feel a hint of bitterness in his voice, almost as if he’s mad at you for not letting go like this under other circumstances. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“With you,” you cry out, shaking a tear away and gritting your teeth when he hits you deeper and you feel your body on fire again.
“Yes, with me,” he says. “You don’t have to think about anything when you’re with me. I’ve got you.”
You almost scream because you hate how much comfort you feel at his words, they don’t sound sexual, not even now that his rutting into you at a fast speed, fucking your ass with so much force that the bed is squeaking and the slaps of your skin against each other fill the room. Even now, something about him makes you feel in the right safe place and you’re not sure this is how you’re supposed to feel while being railed by your friend with benefits.
You shake your head, forcing your eyes open as you stare at him in the mirror. “Harder,” you whisper, sinking your nails in the crumpled sheets under you.
“Harder?” He mocks. “Are you sure?”
You nod, pushing your ass up, trying to provoke him into giving you more.
“If you say so.” His hand moves hesitantly on your neck, he doesn’t apply pressure, he just keeps you in his hold as he fucks into you with rhythmic, deep, and breath-taking thrusts. A low grunt escapes from his lips when your eyes roll back for a moment and you start to be more vocal, mouth staying parted and chest rising swiftly as you gasp for air.
You are a vision. And he could get lost in that.
“You — fuck — feel like heaven, baby,” he groans, “and look so pretty with no thoughts in your brain.” His voice hits right beside your ear and sends shivers down your spine, the eye contact through the reflecting surface makes you melt, tighten the knot in your stomach and almost come on the spot.
Haechan chuckles, kissing your cheeks in a mockingly delicate motion. “Were you about to come again, honey?”
You shake your head, lying blatantly because you know that if you give it to him, he won’t shut up. But he knows you were.
“Yes, you were,” he taunts with a sharp laugh. “What did I say about holding it back?”
“But I — I can’t, fuck,” you cry out. “Too much, can’t take another one.”
“Yes, you can,” he orders. “Come for me, and then I’ll show you, you’ll come again.”
The last thing you want to do is listen to him but he’s a sneaky piece of shit that knows you too well, and when two fingers rub against your clit and two others pass from your neck to your mouth, forcing you to suck them, your orgasm explode before you can even try to fight it.
“I fucking — ugh — hate you,” you cry out, still shaking from the pleasure, writhing under him, shaking your head when he cleans his fingers on your chin.
“The mess on your face is nothing compared to the mess between your legs. You know, right?”
Yes, you do. You can feel your pussy drip an embarrassing amount of cum, and you know how much your hole is clenching around him. But it’s not your fault.
The sounds that come from his mouth are pure condescending mockery as he smirks down at you. “Can’t answer me anymore?”
You’re about to open your mouth but he shuts you up with an open hand on it. “I don’t want to hear you. I don’t need to hear you to know you’re going dumb on my cock.”
You muffle something but it’s in vain, and his eyes glint when you give up in two seconds.
“You’re right,” he groans, “something is different about this place. You never let me have so much — fuck — so much control over you. You never let me fuck you this good, like you deserve.”
You’d like to complain. Because if he thinks that your past fucks weren’t this good, he’s dead wrong. But when your eyes lock, you get he’s still talking about something else. It’s not about the sex or the many orgasms, it’s about you. You didn’t talk back, you didn’t roll your eyes when he called you ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’, and you’re not running away even if he’s all over you. You get lost in his bites and kisses on your shoulders, on his hands on your skin, and his words filling your brain.
“Wouldn’t fuck you in front of the others,” Haechan grunts. He’s picking a brutal pace and you feel like you could break, but moans are still coming out of your mouth, hoarse and needy. “They don’t deserve to see you like this,” he groans, slipping a hand under you, reaching your clit, and making you yelp. “This is only for me. This is mine to see.”
Your eyes roll back. The possessiveness in his voice shouldn’t make you feel things, but it does, it gets your inside to twist and your heart to race and your cunt to clench around nothing even more. You feel like your chest could explode when he keeps repeating that you’re his and his only and you can tease everybody else as long as you want but no one will ever make you feel like he does. His pace on your clit speeds up, while his head falls in the crook of your neck, and then his hips still, the orgasm hits you at the same time and your bodies freeze as the pleasure buzzes through your bones, his hand falls from your mouth and you gasp for air while he collapses on top of you.
You start breathing in synch, and you enjoy the sensation of his chest on your back, but that doesn’t last long. He’d love to stay there some more, but your friends might come back in minutes now, and he truly doesn’t want anyone else to even get a glimpse of you like this. So he rolls to the side, turning his head to stare at you while he dares to caress your back with his hand. You never let him do it, he had tried, he thought aftercare was essential and that after everything he put you through you deserved more than just a simple ‘are you okay?’ followed by your positive answer before you slipped to run back home or if he was lucky only in the bathroom before you came back to sleep next to him, as far as possible.
But this time you don’t glare at him, and you don’t move away, you move closer, not much, but for you is a lot, and you keep your eyes closed while your left hand searches for his body shily, you don’t touch him, it’s just a brush of your fingers against his stomach, but it makes his heart jump in his throat.
“I think…” he whispers, stopping when your eyes flutter open, terrified he ruined something, but you don’t talk, “I think we should shower, so we can be asleep when they come home.”
You smile, stretching and covering your mouth when you yawn. “If you carry me,” you mumble. “I can’t walk.”
He chuckles and then sits up. “It’s my fault so, yeah, I’ll carry you.”
Nothing changes after that small summer trip. You go back and start being stressed once again and the only relief you have is Haechan. Some days are so stressful that you beg for him to come pick you up at work so you can eat something outside and then head back to his apartment to fuck.
Yeah, to fuck.
That is always the original plan, the only thing you need him for. You feel bad for some time treating him like a living dildo, but isn’t it what you two are for each other? You know there’s respect, and care, not love, never love, but other than being friends, when you meet up alone there’s just sex.
That’s what it’s supposed to be.
But then those things turn into… something else. You think it started one night when you came to his place but couldn’t jump on each other because he got a phone call he couldn’t decline, and you had to sit on the couch. You could’ve been a tease and started masturbating in front of him but that thought didn’t even cross your mind. You sat there, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv, hoping to catch something to keep you entertained, and you did. It was one of your favorite movies and when Haechan ended the call and sat next to you, you both had forgotten why you were there.
Just like right now. It’s a Friday night and you came to his place to spend an evening together. No, you didn’t break any rules, it’s just a simple movie night. After you found out you both have an interest in films you couldn’t stop thinking about it, so it was an excuse to watch and discuss some movies together.
“Hi,” Haechan opens the door, and he looks wrecked. You panic seeing him because it looks like he fought with a bear with bare hands, he’s sweating, and his hair is a mess, and your heart clenches in your chest… is he fucking — “I cooked.”
Oh, he cooked.
That made perfect sense, but it doesn’t make sense that you panicked at the idea of him with another girl, almost feeling sick to your stomach and about to throw up. You mentally slap yourself and smile as big as you can before making your way in. Suddenly regretting that you can’t slam him against the couch and ride him until you both pass out.
“Last time chips hurt your stomach, so I made fries, and some small pizzas,” he exclaims, disappearing in the kitchen before showing up again with his hands full. “I hope you like this.” Haechan almost passes out when he sees the smile on your face, it’s so big and he swears he never saw you smile like that, but the moment of happiness doesn’t last because that smile disappears after your thanks.
It’s another mental slap to yourself and your heart for beating so damn hard. It’s just snacks, anybody would have done that, right? Except you know damn well it’s not true. Your ex never cared about the few things your stomach hated and kept you up at night. Sometimes even Johnny forgot you couldn’t eat chips for God knows whatever reason. And it is annoying to fry and turn on the oven when he could’ve just opened a bag and eaten.
Haechan is a good person. You justify. He is. You know it. He’s kind, good with kids, doesn’t know how to cook but he tries (for you), and when you tell him something makes you uncomfortable, he always tries to fix it as soon as he can, he’s perf—
“We should eat before it gets cold, then,” you almost scream, scaring him because you were dead silent in your thoughts for too long.
And Haechan thinks he will never get you. But it’s fine like this. You are to discover, and he likes it. It’s thrilling, and every small step deeper into you feels like the biggest of the rewards. But he wonders when, and if, he will ever reach your core.
For now, it’s fine like this, as you sit on the couch with the food in front of you and the movie you picked starts playing on the screen.
After those movie nights, you should leave. You never set them too late for that reason, so you can drive back home before midnight. It’s easy to do, you’re just a bit tired but your legs are not shaking post-orgasm, your heart is not jumping out of your ribcage and you’re not leaking cum.
It is easy.
Yet, you stop doing it.
“Why don’t you stay?”
You should leave. Just like you did that one time he woke up with you and asked you to stay for breakfast. You were late. And right now, you can’t be late, but tomorrow you need to be home before nine because you have something important to do. It’s an easy lie to tell, he doesn’t know anything about you anyway.
“I don’t know,” you whisper and Haechan looks taken aback. Of course, he is, that’s not a typical response of you. You would’ve screamed something at him, acting like a dog when someone crosses its personal space, barking left and right (not the nicest comparison he had told you — yes, he did — but you couldn’t get mad cause he was right). “I don’t have a toothbrush or my towels.”
You realize that you broke another rule when Haechan stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. That’s the reason why you can’t stay. And the way those words came out of your mouth shows that you’re almost — he learned he has to be careful with you — sad for it.
“I have a spare one,” he says before you can go back to your true self, “it can be yours.”
That toothbrush eventually becomes yours. It sits there, right next to his, and every time you get up in the morning to escape from his bed, you’re reminded of all the lines you’ve crossed. You didn’t bring it from home, he fucking gave a toothbrush to you, and he doesn’t keep it scored somewhere in case you need it, no, it stays right there, always, next to his, as if it belongs there.
You know it doesn’t, it feels weird, romantic, and domestic, and fuck it, you never left any of your belongings in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to take it out and throw it away.
It’s because you might need it.
Yes, you might need it.
That’s what you tell yourself.
Things start going downhill when you break rule number 3.
Technically you didn’t break it.
You didn’t exactly invite him over.
A phone call at midnight while drunk-you slurred out incomprehensible words and sobbed like a child to whom somebody just stole their favourite teddy bear can’t be considered an invite, right? In your defense, when he hung off the call, making you sob even harder cause you thought you fucked it up another time, you weren’t expecting the bell to ring ten minutes later. And when you dragged your body to the door, you didn’t expect to find him standing there, his nightwear only covered with a jacket, his hair a mess, and his breath short, a clear sign he rushed to your place.
“Are you okay?” Haechan asks worriedly, shaking your shoulders to make sure you’re alive and not a creation of his imagination.
If you were your usual you, you would’ve slapped him. Wasn’t it clear that you are not fine? But you’re not there tonight, so you say something else.
“I’m sorry,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as you feel guiltier than ever, “I didn’t know who to call.”
If you were your usual you, you would’ve been able to see the glint that crossed Haechan’s eyes at your words, probably even to hear his heart skip a beat and his hands shake for a brief moment, but again, you are not there tonight.
“What happened?” He asks, trying to appear calm but he’s not calm at all. You are vulnerable, you. And out of all the people to be vulnerable with, you chose him.
“I’m an asshole,” you mumble, letting your body fall into his arms, face hiding in the crook of his neck while you let go to a nervous cry.
“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now. Should we sit?”
You nod, but you’re not really giving orders to your body when he drags you to the couch and lets you cuddle up next to him, shushing you and rubbing circles on your back.
“I never do anything right,” you mutter, holding yourself closer to him, hoping you’ll disappear into him and won’t have to face another day.
“I don’t think so.”
“But you don’t know me, you… if I only… if you only knew all my flaws you would run away, even if between us was just sex.”
Haechan’s face twists in pain as he looks down at you, only seeing your hair because your face is still pressed against his chest. “Cause it’s not?”
“We’re friends, but you…” your words die in your mouth, trying to give an order to all the things that are running in your head. “I try to fix things and then they go wrong, and how do I stop being a bad person? How do I stop hurting everybody?”
“Who did you hurt?”
“I mean… I am hurt, but I… is he manipulating, or am I truly a bitch?”
Haechan can’t follow you, he wants to be a support, but you aren’t giving him clues about anything that is going on and he’s terrified of crossing boundaries, especially now that he has you so close and honest in his arms. This feels more intimate than all the sex you shared, and it’s scarier.
“Who are you talking about?” He dares to ask, losing the hold on you when you sit up, moving away from his body, not much, your legs are still pressed together, and you search for his hand for comfort.
“My ex.”
“Your ex?”
You nod, biting your lips just to prevent another terrible sound to roll out. “I started thinking… about us and why we didn’t work out, and… there were so many things that didn’t sit right. I don’t think I was crazy over him, but I… I’ve always respected him. He surely wasn’t the love of my life but fuck,” at that you break down again, turning your face to the side because even if you’re in the middle of a breakdown you can’t be so vulnerable to Haechan’s eyes. “We’ve been together for a year and a half and only now, because I asked for more closure, he told me he used me just for sex. And as the dumbass pathetic mess I am, I… we… we used to fuck.”
Haechan’s jaw tenses as he listens to you, it’s probably not his place to syndicate since you two are using each other for the same reason, but it’s mutual and consensual. He coughs and then speaks when you don’t explain more. “After?”
“What?”
“You went back to him after the breakup… to fuck?”
“Yes,” you cry out, voice coming out in a yelp. And you know you look like a mess, tears and snot staining your face, but you can’t control your emotions anymore. You feel stupid. Every time you let your sentiments have the best, life proves you shouldn’t do it.
Haechan sighs, taking you back in his hold, letting you go off in his embrace. He doesn’t talk, not sure of what to say, and let silence pass by, lulling you, and drawing circles in your hair. Only when you’ve calmed down a bit he talks. “Why are you the bad person in this?”
“Cause he told me I’m insufferable. He said he loved me at first but… every day with me was ‘killing him’ or whatever. Because I… I like things done a certain way, I like order, I… I can’t let my life go into shambles, Hyuck. I’ve lived the worst days of my life because I had lost control, I feared I wasn’t going to make it out alive only because I wasn’t mentally there anymore, because I wasn’t in control. I let people walk over me and put myself last. I can’t go back there, I can’t.”
“You’re not insufferable for being honest. You’re sincere about what you feel, not the type of person that hides behind honesty to make fun of others or to push them out of their comfort zone. I mean, surely sometimes it’s a lot when you want to have so much control over things, and how badly you react at times when a minor thing doesn’t go as planned. But I think that there are some flaws the people that love us should learn and comprehend, and either decide it’s not a weight for them or be frank and break up. Not everyone can carry the baggage that we bring with us, and that’s fine.”
You sniffle, knowing he’s right, but also feeling that nobody seems to be able, or willing to even try, to carry the baggage you carry with you.
“Would you date me?” That was the alcohol talking, and the heartbreak, and Haechan knows it. But he doesn’t know how drunk and heartbroken you are. He doesn’t know if this is a tricky question, if you would’ve remembered it the next morning and instead of taking it as a friend supporting you, it would’ve caused you two to drift apart. He doesn’t want to lose you, so he circles around it the best he can.
“Your value is not in the people who would date you or not, not even in those who did, like your ex.”
“Yes but, isn’t this the same? I am using you for sex, I’m doing the same.”
“It’s not the same. We want this, and we’re friends. I’m here, supporting you. I don’t think he supported you that much while technically you were dating, am I wrong?”
“No, you’re right. I should’ve seen the signs.”
“We’re all good once things are done, but we can’t blame ourselves from the past. You were in love, it doesn’t matter that you weren’t madly in love, you never disrespected him. While he made you believe he loved you, and in reality, he stopped feeling that and still used you. So, who’s the asshole here?”
“Him,” you whisper with a shaky voice.
“Good, that’s my good girl,” he praises, caressing your cheeks and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “See, you can see things clearly after the storm.”
You hum, a small smile plastering on your face before you cuddle closer to him. You take a deep breath, inhaling his perfume and you feel at peace. “You know I like you, right? Like, I respect you and care for you.”
Haechan’s smile goes from ear to ear, deep down he does, but he would’ve never expected you to say it out loud. “I know, even if you run away from my bed as if I bite you.”
You laugh, hiding your face against his chest and your fingers tighten around his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, I’m used to an empty bed anyway, so it’s not much of a difference when I wake up and don’t find you there.”
Your head rolls up, chin pressing between his sternum as your eyes meet his. “Mind not waking up to an empty bed tomorrow?”
“Mh?”
“Can you please stay the night?” You ask shily, voice quivering. “I know I’m selfish, but I need someone with me.”
Haechan smiles, “It’s not selfish, that’s what friends do.”
That’s what friends do.
Cleaning your smudged makeup and tears.
Giving you water and an aspirin.
Helping you clean your body and even apply moisturizer.
Taking care of your hair.
Putting you in clean nightwear.
Whispering a song to your ear to make you fall asleep.
Holding you close the entire night, so you don’t have nightmares.
Yeah, that’s what friends do.
You know Haechan has a… sparkling personality. He’s chatty, outgoing, and friendly with everyone. He’s not so different from Johnny, so you two get along well because you grew up with your best friend starting conversations even with walls, it doesn’t annoy you when Haechan does the same.
Well, it didn’t annoy you.
Other than that, Haechan has this tendency of flirting with pretty much everyone — of age, and that doesn’t give signs of discomfort — not so different than you, so you couldn’t get mad at him for that, right? Those flirty remarks are jokes, silly things that fit into the moment and that he says just for funny purposes, right?
You aren’t so sure about it. And you aren’t even sure why you care so much. That sensation at the pit of your stomach every time he talks with someone else, touches them, or winks and smirks, is not normal. You know he’s going to take you home and fuck you all night, giving you exactly what you ask for, so why do you feel like this?
“This place is dope.” Mark’s voice rings loudly in your ear, and his body touches yours as he messily sits next to you on the bench, dragging you out of the intense staring competition you were having with yourself, Haechan and his new friend’s body.
“Yeah, Johnny always finds the best places,” you force out, gripping the empty glass in your hands tighter and obligating yourself to look around and not go back to Haechan and that fake blonde girl that is all over him.
“Seems like someone’s having fun,” Mark laughs, looking in front of you and you curse mentally because you know who he’s referring to, and right now you wish Haechan wasn’t having the time of his life. “Johnny made a match for himself and for Hyuck too, the only one missing is you.”
You chuckle, looking at the floor, sighing deeply before you decide that it’s better to divert the conversation from you. “Where’s Minjeong?”
“Oh, she’s at home, actually I’ll leave in a few minutes cause I have to go to her place,” he says with a smile on his face and you think it’s cute how he reacts when she’s brought up. He’s so madly in love and she is too, when they come along they make you wish you had what they had, for two seconds, just two. “Also doing Channie a favour, you know,” he winks and then chuckles, but you don’t find the implications funny, and your stomach twitches in discomfort.
Did Haechan ask him to leave the house empty or is he just being playful? And what if you won’t be the one Haechan takes home?
“I don’t think he’s going home with her,” you say, barely hiding the bitter tone. It’s not an opinion, you’re manifesting because you can’t bear that thought, but Mark is not on your track and he snickers again.
“Think they’ll end up doing it in the bathroom or the car?”
You force out a laugh while replying, “God, I hope not.” But you’re dying inside and you wish Mark would leave so you can run outside, slap yourself, go back inside and find somebody else to fuck that night and put your dumb brain — or heart, but you’re not ready to accept that just yet — to sleep.
“I think he will last until home, he’s not a fan of doing it in unpractical places, dirty or too risky.”
“Is the car risky?”
“Yes,” he replies as if he’s shocked by your underestimation. “People know what goes on even if they can’t see, and then it moves and fogs and it’s… embarrassing. Haechan has never been that attracted to somebody to the point of fucking in a car, he’d rather go home with his balls blue.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Too much information,” you joke, shrugging off how your body heated up, and Mark apologies through laughter before standing up.
“Sorry again. Man, I’m used to making fun of him with him and got carried away.”
“It’s fine, I’m a grown woman, sex doesn’t traumatize me,” you reassure but your dumb heart is beating weirdly faster in your chest, and the awareness that Haechan never done it with anybody else, that he also broke one of his unspoken rules for you, is driving you insane.
Now you’d like to get up and drag him by the hair and ask him if he would fuck her in a car but you don’t, you can’t. So you say your goodbyes to Mark and then stand up to walk to the bar, some alcohol will do.
“Hey, pretty,” a man’s voice speaks from the side; barely five minutes of peace and you are already crowded with unwanted attention.
“Hi,” you reply back, trying to bite back the bitterness of your voice, whoever that man is, he isn’t the man you want to reach your side.
“All alone here?”
You roll your eyes at his lame pick-up words and at the hint of the smirk you can hear in his voice. “I’m with friends, just need to cool down for a bit.”
“Oh, all dating and all over each other while they forget about you,” he jokes and only then you turn around. Partially true, but being left alone by your friends had never been a problem, you always found someone that wanted to dance with you, even right now you have this man — a handsome man, with black hair, tanned skin, and a somehow not creepy smile — hitting on you but he isn’t the man you want.
“I’m not actually,” you lie, you don’t even know why. You could’ve said yes, flirted with him a bit more, ground against each other for a while before going home, to his place, wait, to his place? What if he was a murderer? And with what car? You should’ve called a Uber, or worst, slept over. But soon you realize his bed isn’t the bed you want to fall asleep into after some draining orgasms. The idea of even being at his place makes your skin crawl and you push down a groan when two brown eyes, auburn hair and bronze skin fill your thoughts instead.
“Then why are you alone? You’re too pretty to be wasted here, sitting all by yourself. I could hear your thoughts from there,” he says, pointing at where he was sitting before.
Your face twitches in irritation, you don’t like being called pretty, not with that tone at least, and not by men that aren’t Hae— anyway, you don’t like it. It feels like mockery and when it comes from men’s lips it feels like they’re trying to box you up there, as if being pretty is all you’re worth but at the same time, they can’t compliment you with words like ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’ because then they would boost your ego too much and they cannot compete with confident women.
“And what were my thoughts, Harry Potter?” You joke, trying to hide the bitter tone with a forced small smile.
He snorts, shaking his head, and shifting closer to you. Your first reaction is to move away but another body on the other side stops you from going far.
“I don’t recall Harry Potter being able to mind read,” he whispers, and you feel his breath collide against your neck, and his fingers graze your thigh. “Anyway, I could tell you were begging for attention.”
You gulp. You don’t like this anymore, you didn’t like this in the first place, to be honest. But him being all over your personal space without your consent is making you uncomfortable and for some reason, you can’t react like usual. Maybe it’s because he’s not doing anything, or well, not something so evident that wouldn’t make the whole club call you a crazy attention whore for accusing an innocent man.
So, you sit quietly; if you don’t talk back, he’ll get tired and will leave, that’s what you pray for. You just have to wait for a miracle.
And just when you’re about to lose all hope, and the man moves even closer to you, a fit of cough brings you back to earth.
“Honey,” Haechan calls, “sorry, the line at the bathroom was endless. Should we go?”
It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you, but once your brain registers his voice, you let go of a breath of relief, and when you turn around you meet the pissed-off expression of the man next to you.
“Who’s this?”
“Her boyfriend,” Haechan talks before you can even think of an answer, too dumb you were already thinking of a short way to explain what was going on between you. “Needed something, sir?”
Haechan is clearly mocking him, staring at the stranger with a challenging glare and moving closer to you, almost to shield you from him.
“Nothing, have a great night,” the man mutters angrily before walking away.
“You too!” Haechan screams and then turns to you. “Are you alright? It seemed like he was crossing some lines.”
You’re still shaken, and only mumble some hums as a reply. It’s not really because of that man but mostly because you weren’t expecting this from Haechan. Or worse, you weren’t expecting your heart to react when he called himself your boyfriend.
“I’m fine,” you whisper before briefly looking around, this is getting too much. You don’t give him time to check another time that you’re up and walking speedily to grab your jacket and storm outside. Haechan doesn’t get it, for the nth time he can’t predict anything of you, and he feels guilty because maybe he read you wrong, maybe you were willingly flirting with that man and he fucked up everything. But he still runs after you, and that’s, one, not what you expected, and two, not what you needed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were flirting back with him,” he apologizes, running after you, grabbing your wrist, and forcing you to turn around.
You sniffle, looking at the ground because this is so pathetic and it’s already the second time he catches you crying and you can’t bear how vulnerable you have shown yourself to him — yes, that is too many times for you. Bottling up feelings and emotions is your top skill after programming everything like a mastermind to make sure everything would flow perfectly and everyone would have a very specific image of you, so why the hell are you a mess every time he comes around?
“I can go talk to him and explain it to him —”
“No,” you stop him. “I… I’m a bit overwhelmed because I… I wasted a night out, I could’ve stayed at home and written a little or gone on with my favourite series, but you know…”
“Fleabag?” He taunts, tilting his head as he tries to meet your eyes.
“Yeah,” you whisper, running a hand on your neck.
“You already know it by heart, it would be your tenth rewatch,” he jokes but when you look at him with your lips awkwardly pressed in a thin line, his eyes go wide. “Oh God, you started it again?”
“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “it’s my comfort show, and then the other day I fucked up again, I needed to see myself being a total failure in someone else and Fleabag is always there for me.”
Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, still staring at you with an amused expression. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Need a hot priest too?”
That should make you laugh — oh, how much you wanted that — but it only makes you let out a chocked sob because fuck, he surely doesn’t carry a rosary and the bible is not his favourite book, he can’t say mass, but you feel like Haechan is your hot priest. He’s fucking you up in ways nobody else ever did. Fleabag at least had God and morals to come between them but you, what do you have? Nothing.
“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling you in a hug, “no hot priests, no judging for your fixations. How about you tell me what is going on?”
“No,” you reply, hiding in his hold. It should be easy, embarrassing but easy, to slur out that you’re a mess because you feared he wasn’t going to pay you a bit of attention, surely you should’ve turned it into a confession of how dick-addicted you were and how badly you needed him — vulgarly, his cock — after an entire week of absence, but it’s not easy to be your usual — or past — self when you feel like you are missing him more than you are missing what he knows how to use best. “You should go inside, she’s waiting for you.” So you place the weight on him, hoping he won’t take you home because you can’t do another night like when you called him in the middle of desperation.
You don’t catch his expression, a held-back smirk mixed with eyes full of surprise, but that would be the look on his face that you’d see if you’d stopped staring at the cobblestones on the sidewalk.
“Are you… jealous?”
Your head is not facing the ground anymore, with a snap so fast you know it’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck, your eyes lock with Haechan’s. And then you laugh, hysterically. It’s a fake laugh and he gets it, he can see you panic, he saw it in your eyes that brief moment they intertwined, and he knows.
You are jealous.
And you know he knows it, so you have to fix this mess.
“Fine, I wanted to fuck you tonight, it’s been a week and I’m kinda needy, and seeing you with her got me mad, but not jealous. Do you know when you’re horny, you think you’re close to getting some relief and then something happens and what you have in mind doesn’t happen anymore?” You ask, and you see in his face that he’s barely following the words you’re spitting out before you can betray yourself. “But it’s fine, my toys are still working, so I can use them instead.”
“Are you walking home?”
Oh, so he doesn’t care about anything you said? He didn’t believe it, right? Fuck, now he’ll think you love him.
“Yes.”
Haechan shakes his head, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the opposite side. “Come on, don’t make me drag you.”
“I’m not going back inside,” you say, trying to pull away and he stops, sighing.
“Honey, I’m taking you home.”
Oh.
Oh.
You’d fight if you weren’t a mess, you surely would do it and tell him it’s not necessary, but you need a ride back home so that’s the only reason you say yes. You don’t hope you will break rule number three again and he will fuck away this sadness you’re carrying around. Why are you even sad? He’s there, right at your side, driving you home after you cried like a child in the middle of the street, comparing yourself to a fucking tv series character, an insane character, by the way.
“Do you think I talk to myself?”
“What?” He almost swerves when you talk after five minutes of straight silence.
“Like Fleabag, you know. The thing she does when she talks to us?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never seen you turn around mid-conversation to stare at a spot behind you or to your side to talk to a camera, so I guess no.”
You sit in silence, blankly staring at the street in front of you. Oh, you do. Not the camera, not really, but you are slowly transcending into the madness of that old cat lady that Johnny always talked about.
“I’m insane,” you cry out.
Haechan laughs, turning to stare at you for a split second, and smiling again at your devasted face. “I just think you’re drunk.”
“I didn’t drink,” you huff, throwing your head back against the seat and closing your eyes while you damn every decision that led you there. “Got two small glasses of something that wasn’t even worth it while I watched you grind on her all night.”
Shit.
Fuck.
“She was hot.”
Think fast. Think fast. Think fast.
“You should’ve gone home with her. Can we go back so I will go home with her?”
“I take it back, you are insane, not drunk,” he giggles, caressing your thigh when the car stops at a traffic light.
You groan. Why is he so unfazed by your weird tactics? Why does he laugh so tenderly even when he’s teasing you? Why does it feel like he holds so much love in his voice, words, and touches? “I’m sorry, it was a shitty night and I’m… overstimulated. Not sexually, but mentally. Everything feels doubled.”
“That’s why I’m taking you home.”
Your brain has many things to say but you keep your mouth shut, you already messed up enough tonight and you’re not sure you can live tomorrow with the consequences of these minor errors already, so adding more to the list wouldn’t be a wise thing.
When you arrive home you don’t move. You should jump off the car to slump in your bed not even changing yourself — once again going against one of the thousands of rules you have in order to survive in the insanity of your sanity. But you don’t want to leave his side. You like being around Haechan, even when you don’t talk, even right now that you feel on the verge of tears again and you can’t blame your hormones, while the music plays from the radio.
And Haechan gets it. Your usual self? Out of the car in a second; the first times you two hung out you barely gave him time to stop before you were under the porch of the complex you lived in. He once again has no idea what’s going on inside you, but he knows he can’t leave you alone. He doesn’t care if you use toys, but for how shaken you look, he knows the only thing you’ll pick up will be the phone to call your ex, and he doesn’t want that. You don’t deserve to be hurt, and your ex doesn’t even deserve to hear your voice.
“Wanna come to my place?” He asks, breaking the silence, staring at you while you’re lost with the gaze in front of you on the quite empty road of your house. “You have everything there anyway.”
You have everything there anyway.
His toothbrush that became yours.
His white t-shirt that became yours.
A new set of towels he had bought just for you.
His favourite mug that became yours.
A warm bed. A pillow with a beating heart. And probably something else you’re not ready to face yet.
“Yeah, let’s go home.”
Haechan shouldn’t smile this big when those words leave your lips and you slump in your seat letting go of the tension, but he does. He knows you’re drunk, he knows you’ll go back to being your distant self in the morning, and probably he won’t even find you there when he wakes up, but he likes this new side of you so he wants to enjoy it while it lasts.
Home.
He loves the way it rolls from your lips and how that house feels like home when you’re inside.
Apparently, your new plan is to give Haechan a heart attack, cause when he wakes up in the morning and, not only still finds you there, but finds you cuddled up on top of him, he feels like dying. He is not even sure you are you, maybe he’s making you up and all of this is a dream.
Now that you are awake you feel the same. You are in his bed, wearing his shirt and pants, it’s nine in the morning, your clothes are not scattered on the floor and the sheets aren’t a mess. Why? You know why. Unfortunately, you weren’t drunk enough the night before to forget how embarrassing it had been, but you wish you could find another reason.
“Oh, hi,” he cheers when you enter the kitchen after ten minutes of contemplating whether running away now was a good idea or if the more you acted weird, the worst it got. “Headache?”
“No, luckily no,” you reply, running a hand on your face and sitting on a chair. “Why are you cooking, trying to blow us up?”
“Oh, you’re back, I was starting to worry,” he laughs at your snarky remark, shaking his head.
You don’t reply, only drop on your arms, resting your head on them against the table as you watch him move around. He might not be a good chef, but you love the way he moves, it’s like his body always makes sure to remind you of all the years he spent doing ballet, and even if he hates it now, you’re glad he did it.
He’s hot, even in the morning, even with his eyes still sleepy and hair a mess. But you feel like something of the crazy, pungent, chemistry that used to buzz between you stopped doing so. Or maybe this is a friend moment without the benefits? You can’t tell, and you just want to get back on the benefits again because the whole friends’ thing is turning romantic and you don’t like it.
So, your feet move quickly, making you reach him in a second and wrap your arms around his body.
“What are you—”
“Shh,” you shush him, moving your hands lower on his abdomen.
“Oh, sure, of course, you weren’t just hugging me, fuck,” he curses when you tease his inner thighs, never touching his sensitive part. There is a hint of sadness in his words but you pretend you don’t get it.
“Want you, Hyuckie,” you pout against his ear, and you can feel him shiver in your hold.
“Not now,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand to move it away.
“Then when?” You ask, slipping your hand into the rubber band after you slapped his away. “You never fucked me in the morning, you know?”
Haechan gulps and turns off the stove, hands losing their grip on everything they touch while your hands kept teasing him more and more.
“When we had all, mhh, day to ourselves,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes as he tries to don’t give in to you.
“Fucked me in the evening, at night, and in the afternoon.”
“You slept till noon of course I couldn’t fuck you in your sleep.”
“Well, couldn’t or wouldn’t, you still didn’t, and I need you to do it now.”
Haechan’s breath falters when your fingers wrap around his dick and start moving to get him hard, head reclined low as he tries to hold in the moans you’re dragging out of him.
“Can you get hard for me?” You whisper teasingly and Haechan groans, glaring at you.
“Now you think I can’t get hard?”
You chuckle at his voice and also because you can feel his cock hardening in your hand with each stroke on it.
“Good,” you hum, starting to kiss his neck and when his head rolls back and he searches for your lips on his, you pull away.
“Oh, cool, went back to phase one?” He says and you can hear the bit of anger in his voice even if he’s trying to hide it.
You don’t know what to reply, you can turn it into something sexual, so he won’t get mad and keep this thing going. You don’t even know why you pulled away. Well, yes, you do, but why are you so afraid all of a sudden?
“Fuck me first and then maybe later you’ll get a kiss.” This will do, coming out sultrily it only sounds like dirty talk and hides your insecurities. “You left me hanging for too long to get what you want so easily.”
And Haechan falls for it, groaning again and leaning back on your shoulder while his eyes are shut and from his lips start to come out more moans.
“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whimpers, fucking back into your hands.
You smirk, finding yourself staring at his blissed face a bit too long, but he looks just so beautiful like this, with his long lashes resting on his full soft cheeks, and his plump lips parted to let out soft, raspy whimpers.
“Wanna come?”
“In — fuck — in your mouth, please. Use your mouth.”
Your hands leave his dick, and you take two steps back.
“Turn around and take your pants off,” you order and stare at him following your instructions in the blink of an eye. When he’s done, you get on your knees and don’t waste time taking his hard cock in your mouth.
“Shit,” Haechan groans, throwing his head back and wrapping his hands in your hair, he doesn’t force your face down, leaving total control in your hands, he simply likes to hold on to you somehow.
You go for a steady rhythm, not fast but not slow to tease him and waste more time. You’re dripping and you need him inside you soon. And for your luck, it doesn’t take him long to come. After all, you know him and what drives him crazy. So one of your hands fondles his balls while the other wraps around his base, and start working on him while your tongue and cheeks focus on his tip. You also know that he loves hearing you moan around him, and watching your eyelid flatter as you stare up at him, and he never told you but when tears start spilling out of the corner of your eyes, his cock throbs harder.
“Mhh, fuck, fuck,” he rasps out, followed by chants of your name as his knees wobble and his hips buck up while he comes in your mouth. His eyes roll back when you pull away with a pop sound and then swallow everything without breaking eye contact. “You drive me insane,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply.
“Fuck me,” you urge, standing up again, his words flying over your head. “Please.”
Haechan nods, shaking his head to try to shake the post-orgasm haze out of his mind. “Come here,” he hums, pulling you closer, moving his hands on your body to undress you of the pants and underwear before lifting you on the countertop.
But that’s not what you want.
“No,” you huff, squirming in his hold. “From behind, please.”
That’s not what Haechan wants, when you fuck in that position is because you want it particularly hard and that’s not what he wants to give to you, not now. He’s still trapped in that sense of what was different from the night before and he’s not ready to bear with your shift to your old self again. But when he looks into your eyes, he realizes that spell is already far gone, no more tenderness or heartfelt conversation, just sex and greed.
But you are still there, and it never happened before, and this is better than nothing, so he gives you what you want.
“Bend over,” he says, helping you off the kitchen and waiting for you to get in position. He would find the view hot, incredibly hot, your ass pushing back up into him, your wet folds pressing against the tip of his cock, your hips swinging in desperation, and it is hot, but he can’t enjoy it fully; if it only wasn’t for that small twinge of pain in his heart.
“Please, fuck me,” you beg again when he doesn’t push in right away, too lost at staring blankly at your back.
“Are you in a rush? Somewhere to be better than here?” He bites back, it’s a bitter tease, not a sensual one, and his voice trembles, and so do his hands on your hips.
“I need you, please,” you grunt, throwing your head down, “please.”
Haechan swallows the gulp in his throat and pushes into you. He’s always delicate when he thrusts in the first time, he knows you’re wet and ready to take him but he’s always careful and you wish you didn’t find it so attractive, but you do. Nobody ever cared for you that much during sex, well, nobody ever cares for you that much in general.
And when he starts moving in and out of you, your heart loses another beat. He fills you up so nicely, you hate to compliment every part of him but fuck, he’s perfect, he fits perfectly and you feel him everywhere, it’s like he was made just for you.
“Fuck,” he groans when you clench down on him. “Want it harder, babe?”
“Yes, please.”
His hips start snapping against you in a fast rhythm, causing your bones to hit the hard surface of the countertop, but you don’t care, you even find the slight pain more exciting.
Haechan’s groans fill your ears, as the grip of his hands on you gets incredibly tighter. It’s rough like you asked but not how you’re used to. You don’t dare to turn your neck to get a peek at him but you know his brows are knitted and his eyes are dark. This doesn’t feel like fun like your usual hard fucks, it’s like a sense of sadness and bitterness is running between you and it makes your heart sting.
“Haechan,” you call out his name, and only for a second his grip softens, but you don’t continue, you don’t even know what you want, or if you want something.
“What?” He growls in response, hips slamming harshly against your ass. “Is this still not enough? Am I still not enough? Will I ever be enough for you?”
Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel a tear streak down your eyes and you shake your head swiftly, trying to hold onto something. “No, it is,” you breathe out. “You are, fuck, you are enough,” you cry, hissing when he slaps your ass.
“Yeah? Then what do you want? What do I have to do to make you happy?”
“Kiss me,” you mumble, pushing your head back, trying to reach for his lips. “Ple-please, want you — umh — you all over me.”
And when he leans in, kissing you with eagerness, it’s like the gloomy cloud that was shadowing over you dissolves in the air, his grip turns delicate, and his face relaxes, while his hips slow down until they come to a stop. Haechan doesn’t pull away and you don’t care you’re almost struggling for air, feeling breathless, gasping against his lips makes you feel alive more than ever.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a gasp. He stares at your face for a moment, watching a tear roll down your cheeks, and he’s tempted to wipe it away with a gentle touch of his fingers, but he doesn’t give in to temptation. If you weren’t in yourself the night before, he’s not in himself right now, and he feels that he might want to see you cry, cry for him.
Another guttural sound rolls from his lips when he drifts his gaze away and pushes you flat on the countertop with force, picking up the same rhythm as before, snapping against you so fast that your heart starts racing faster in your chest that’s raising up and down in a frenetic rhythm.
“Too — too much,” you whimper, letting your shoulder relax when you fear you won’t be able to keep your body up much more.
Haechan snickers, moving a hand down to knead the flesh of your ass harshly as he leans closer to you. “Really? Thought you asked me to fuck you like this.”
You nod weakly, muscles of your neck sore, and you close your eyes because you feel more tears threatening to spill out, it’s a mix of physical pleasure and mental — emotional — pain you can’t deal with.
“I would’ve fucked you differently,” he almost growls next to your ears, and you know he’s mad. “Nice and slow, probably would’ve even eaten you out but you asked for this and I’m giving you this,” his voice almost breaks and his hips falter, his heart is beating so loud in his ribcage you can feel it against your back. “Want me to stop?” And here he is, as always, no matter the pain you put him through by playing a game of hide and seek inside your true self where he can’t grasp anything real, his voice still turns soft, weak, almost shy, as he makes sure this truly is not getting too much for you. Because you hit left and right with your sword and your blinded eyes but he won’t ever hurt you even if he’s clearly the one bleeding.
“No,” you sniffle, opening your eyes to try to glimpse at his, but the position doesn’t offer you a great view. “Want you, please. I — I need you, Hyuck, so much.”
He nods quickly and then starts thrusting into you, this time he won’t stop until you come, but he pushes your body up against his because he needs you. He needs your scent to be all over his skin, he needs to remind himself you’re not a dream even if you continuously slip from his fingers, he needs to remind you and himself that he’s the only one that has you like this. He is the best you ever had and that’s a little consolation.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he whimpers, forehead frowning while sweat starts pearling his skin as he looks at your ass bouncing on him. “Gonna come?”
“Ye-yes, please,” you beg, and you don’t even know why. You don’t have to ask for his permission to come but it’s like you want him to end this moment.
“Hold on just a bit more, I’m close,” he replies, “want to come with you.”
You nod mindlessly, letting out louder and whinier moans while your hands desperately search for some kind of contact and your legs shake as your orgasm builds up with more violence inside you.
“Be a good girl and come with me,” he orders and you feel one of his hands reach in front of your body until it finds your clit. He groans loudly when your pussy clenches hard around him and your body tenses up while your orgasm washes over, leaving you with your mouth parted but too breathless to let out sounds. Haechan’s not silent, he curses your name and some swear words while his hips keep ramming into you as he pumps his cum in and out of your hole.
“Shit,” he comments, pulling out of you sooner than you wish he would, leaving you empty and cold.
You think he’s behind you, but when you turn around struggling, you see he’s not in the kitchen anymore and you collapse on the floor, legs too weak and trembling to hold you and your heavy heart up.
You’re not sure how many minutes pass while you sit naked on the floor of his kitchen with your hands in your hair wondering where did you go wrong. You just know it feels like an eternity and when you hear footsteps approach, you quickly jump on your feet to cover up and don’t let him find you like that.
Once you pulled back up your clothes, and he’s back in the room, you don’t know what to say, and you don’t even feel like staring at him.
“You can…” he starts but then stops and when your eyes lift from the ground, you see he’s turned around, turning on the stoves again.
“I can?”
“Nothing,” he mutters. “You know where everything in this house is. Do whatever you want.”
“Are you — are you mad?” You chuckle nervously, shaky fingers fixing your hair behind your ears.
He shrugs, shaking his head, “I’m not, I just know you won’t do what I propose, so if you want to eat, take a shower and grab some new clothes, do it. But if you want to leave, it’s fine, too.”
You bite your lips; you know your typical answer would be easy: leave. But right now, it feels like the wrong one. You can’t bet on it, but Haechan seems sad, even angry, and the cold wall between you and his back is making you feel guilty for something you don’t even know. You just proposed to fuck, it was normal in your relationship, so why was he mad and why were you sad? What happened in that fragment when your bodies were tangled in a mess bigger than what it looked like?
“I’ll stay for a bit…” you whisper and when he turns around with wide eyes you add, “if it’s fine for you.”
“Yeah, I told you, everything you decide it’s fine for me. Want breakfast?”
“Yeah,” you say.
“And maybe new clothes?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, warm dispersing on his face again.
“Your closet?”
“My closet.”
The names you start slurring in bed don’t belong to Haechan. Honestly, you haven’t seen Haechan in over two weeks now. That morning you needed him to prove you something, only to be proven the complete opposite. Things with him weren’t going where you planned them to go in the first place.
And the best solution would be to talk about it, set some boundaries again, or put an end to things like adults, but, even if the years pass by, you feel like you only keep getting older but not wiser.
You think you are stupid and childish, and you hate yourself.
But you still don’t pick the best solutions. Actually, you don’t pick solutions at all, you just fuck things up because you’re not used to them going right.
You ghosted him. Left his place after breakfast with a promise to text him in the week just to never pick up the phone to go to his contact again. You even have to avoid Johnny and your friend’s nights out because you can’t face him.
You feel like you cheated on him. No, there wasn’t written or slurred speech anywhere that you two were exclusive but you two were exclusive. Haechan never fucked someone else behind your back, and he also most of the times implied he didn’t because, since you two did it raw, he wanted to make sure he was only active with you.
And you… you crossed a line you shouldn’t have crossed.
You went back to your ex and met up with two people you met at a club, when, too heartbroken, you needed someone to fill the void inside of you, only for things to get worst and leave you heartbroken, full of guilt and unsatisfied.
You should pick up your phone, call him over and explain, you’re still in time to fix this in a way he won’t hate you forever, but you don’t.
You go to work, come back home, slump on the couch with food and movies, or stay out running until you can barely feel your legs, stand under the shower as if the bill won’t crash you at the end of the month and then go to sleep, or try to, while you fight with your brain and heart and the emotions none of the three of you knows how to cope with, just to do it all over again the next day.
It’s an endless routine where you try to push him out, but it doesn’t seem to work.
It had always been easy to delete people from your life like this. One cut, one push out of your protected zone, and they were long forgotten.
So why is it so hard with him?
But you still don’t pick up that damn phone, not even when a month passes by and Haechan reaches for you, apologizing.
[Monday]
pathetic loser
hey, it’s been a while i just wanted to check if everything’s alright
[Wednesday]
pathetic loser
will you be there at johnny’s dinner at his place?
maybe we can talk there?
[Friday]
pathetic loser
i didn’t ask johnny but i guess you won’t be there so i just hope you’re okay
You don’t reply, only stare at those texts trying to force yourself to grab the phone and call him because he deserves that more than a dry reply in a text. But you don’t know what to say, and you’d probably hope he won’t answer the call, so you’ll have an excuse to say you’ve tried but he didn’t reply. And when you try to come up with something that can explain to him this whole situation and at the same time don’t tear you apart, another week passes by.
[Thursday]
pathetic loser
i won’t bother you again i promise
i just wanted to apologize if i did something that made you uncomfortable that night/morning
i don’t know what it is but it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, after all you don’t owe me anything
it was just sex anyway so it’s fine
i will stop hanging around with johnny when i know he plans with all of us so you don’t have to avoid him too
he misses you, please don’t let some sex come between your friendship
anyway back to us, i know i sound like a loser but i had fun and i hope you don’t regret this totally, sorry if i messed something up i didn’t do it on purpose
i’ve written too much so yeah hope you’re fine, have a great life (you can block me if you want to, if you didn’t already)
You don’t reply even this time, but you cry and sob into your pillow, covered by your sheets as the phone glows in the dark. And you cry and cry until you feel like you can’t breathe and the weight on your chest gets heavier and pushes you down into your misery.
It was supposed to be just silly, superficial, and fun sex, how did it turn into this?
Haechan didn’t mean to mess something up.
But Haechan doesn’t know that the only thing he messed up with is your heart.
It takes you a while, but you get over him and get back to your daily life, the real one. No more depressing couch-sitting-eating sessions or extremely exhausting workouts to burn your brain down, no more avoiding social life and crying yourself to sleep.
Johnny didn’t understand what happened, he felt like there was something going on between you and Haechan, but you never told him anything and you wouldn’t keep that a secret to yourself, right? Not from him at least. But even if he didn’t know the reasoning he gently, and friendly, dragged you out of the house without asking many questions, he just wanted you back.
And you were back, a bit less chatty and loud, with a lightly dimmed glow in your eyes, and with a tongue that stopped flirting with every breathing being, but you were there.
Haechan had disappeared, he was true to his promise, and you never saw him in the mixed-groups group hangouts, so moving on from him had been easier.
You don’t hear his laugh anymore, you don’t laugh at his jokes, you can’t feel his hand secretly and gently rest on your thighs under the table, he can’t rest his head on your shoulder when the alcohol kicks in and he is too wasted, you don’t have someone to dance with or run away back home when your social battery dies.
You don’t have him.
And it sucks.
But you try not to show it. You are trying to move on, and even if you hate how tortuous it feels this time and how you still look for his dumb-looking, slap-attracting, handsome, kissable face, you are trying.
You are also failing.
When the seventh drink of the night reaches your stomach, you’re not even sure you’d be able to answer if someone asked what’s your name. And you hate that a name is still loud and clear, ringing in your mind like a permanent reminder that maybe, just maybe, you are not getting over him.
So, you drag your legs up and feel your head turn, everything is spinning but you need to find someone that will drown him out. You can’t keep going on like this.
“Hi,” you mumble when you reach the bar and sit clumsily on the stool.
“Oh, hi, babe. Look what we have here,” the man replies, studying you.
“Wanna fuck?”
“Oh, you go straight to the point, and I wouldn’t say no if only you didn’t look completely out of yourself.”
“I’m not,” you reply, shaking your head — terrible idea, everything spins faster, and you have to squeeze your eyes to find balance again. “I just had a few drinks.”
“A few?”
“Yeah. I can take you home,” you wink, caressing his arm with two fingers and the stranger chuckles before shaking his head.
“I think we need to find somebody that knows you to take you home. Are you alone?”
You shake your head. “You could take me home. I’m good, I give amaaazing blowjobs.”
“I don’t want to doubt your abilities, but you’re drunk,” he says, starting to look around, hoping to be lucky enough to make eye contact with someone you may know.
“Come on, I need this. Is it because you think you can’t take me?” You still insist, pressing your finger on his chest in an accusative tone.
He snorts, “I can take you, but sober. Hey,” he calls someone, waving his hand and at the same time trying to keep your body up with his other one.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Johnny’s voice is clear and too loud, especially when he groans your name angrily after you try to avoid him.
“Do you know him?”
“He’s my bestie,” you say, rolling your eyes. “My bad, bad bestie. He made me meet someone that broke my heart, don’t let me go with him, pleaseee.”
“Man, she needs aspirin and a bed.”
Johnny nods, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the sit, “Yeah, I can see. Thank you for not taking advance of her.”
“Should be the norm,” he smiles. “Take care. And maybe talk with whoever broke your heart.”
“No,” you reply angrily, crossing your arms on your chest. “I’m mad at you,” you say to Johnny, trying to walk away from him but you need his support to don’t wiggle around like jelly. “You first say I need some fun and then the fun breaks my heart and now the fun at the bar is not okay because I’m not sober to you and him and why I can’t have nice things?”
Johnny stares at you as if you’re crazy; he had seen you drunk but never like this, so miserable, and the fact he has not even a faint idea of how and why you are like this, doesn’t sit right with him. “Why don’t we sit in a corner and talk?”
“I don’t want to. I want Haechan,” you slur out, collapsing on the sit and resting your head on his chest, but the music is loud and Johnny’s not sure he heard right.
“You want who?”
“Haehan,” you mumble against his shirt.
“Okay, I don’t know who or what you want but we need to go home, come on. Please, drag your feet to the car, I’ll carry you inside your place but please, let’s just make it to the car.”
Johnny has to carry you to the car in his arms because you are a boneless mess and he doesn’t want to end the night at the hospital because you broke your ankles on those damn heels; mental reminder to gift you heels you can easily walk on even when you have more alcohol than blood running in your veins.
The drive back home is a blur in your brain, you’re sure you’re not sleeping, but your head is spinning and at some point, you start shedding some tears and mumble chants of a name, Johnny supposes, but he can’t get it right. Your voice is low and groggy, and sobs come through every whimper that escapes your lips.
“My place or yours?” He asks, hoping you can give him an answer, but you answer other doubts instead.
“Hyuck,” you whisper, and Johnny finally has all the puzzle pieces to put together.
When you wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache and your stomach turned upside down, the last thing you want to deal with is your best friends’ stares and glances he throws at you as if he knows something you don’t know he knows.
You don’t ask him any questions right away, your brain is too far gone to deal with it, but after another aspirin and a coffee, you feel like you’re ready to face him. Except you’re not quite ready for what’s to come.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, rubbing your temples while you rest your elbows on his kitchen table.
“Haechan,” he replies with a smirk on his face as if he finally got you right where he wanted you, cornered. And well, you feel like you are, and maybe you should’ve waited a bit longer cause your acting skills are not at their best right now, but you take another sip from your cup, shrug, and then reply nonchalantly.
“What about him?”
Johnny’s eyes roll back as he huffs loudly. “Do we really have to do this?”
“Do what? You bring him up out of nowhere,” you say, but the calmness of your voice is being betrayed by the nervous bouncing of your leg and Johnny gets it immediately, and that’s when he shoots his arrow.
“You love him.”
“What?” You almost spit the coffee out while you stare at your best friend with wide eyes, hoping to see a reaction, hoping that this disgusted him to the point he will get up and focus on cleaning the table and insult you instead of twisting the knife in the wound that’s called ‘me and Haechan.’ But he’s impassive, and it’s written all over his face that he’s not buying it, or anyway, he wants to dig deep into all the secrets you kept from him.
“You love him,” he repeats, and those words coming out so slowly from his mouth make shivers run down your spine.
“I don’t,” you reply sternly, getting up to clean the spilled coffee and keep yourself busy.
“You do. You slurred his name all the way back home and I thought I was crazy until you said Hyuck and hell no, that’s him.” Johnny reaches you and now you also feel physically cornered by his big body — why the hell is he so big? — and physically disgusted because you did what? And why couldn’t he leave you in somebody else home? Slurring his name to a stranger wouldn’t have been as embarrassing as what you did.
“So? Are you going to answer? Or keep denying?” He presses you again, and before he can scold you as he usually does with an annoyed call of your name in a stern tone, you snap.
“We used to fuck, okay?”
“You did what?” Johnny almost screams at your face, and you push him back to walk to the living room.
“Don’t be surprised, you literally set us up.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? What happened to our friendship and our rules.” Johnny’s voice cracks as he tries to accept that you, his best friend, sister of another mother, and partner in crimes, really kept all of this behind him.
“Oh, screw rules, all those fucking rules I never know how to respect,” you huff, falling on the couch and holding your head in your hands. And Johnny has to rub his temples because all of this is insane and surreal to his ears.
“You don’t know how to respect them? You. Miss little rules?”
“Shut up.”
“Wait… your rules about sex? Are you talking about all that crap you believe won’t make you catch feelings?”
“It never made me catch feelings. It always worked. Clear boundaries, good sex, and everybody on their way.”
Johnny smirks, kneeling in front of you so you can’t avoid his gaze anymore. “You broke them.”
“I didn’t,” you mutter, and you want to slap his face because why is he having so much fun seeing your breakdown?
“You did. You just told me; you got mad when I mentioned them, and you wouldn’t get mad unless something didn’t go as you planned.”
“Nothing happened,” you retort, leg bouncing progressively faster as you feel your heart race and your body burn.
“No, you broke them.”
“I didn’t.”
“You fell in love with him.”
“Don’t,” you stop him with a glare that doesn’t scare away the smirk on his face. Instead, the look in your eyes, the way your lips are twitching, and your continuous nervous movements are everything Johnny needs to let him know he’s right.
“You fell in love with Haechan.”
You almost scream when those words roll from his lips, you hate hearing that thought, that fear that has been lingering in your brain every night for a month now. “Shut up, don’t make things up. I broke the rules of not telling you we fucked.”
“Oh, no, girl, I know you. You’re fidgeting with your fingers, and your voice is shaking, you’re straight-up lying and you can sell that bullshit to anybody else but not me, so spill the fuck you have to spill or else we’re going to have a long day.”
“There’s nothing to know. We started fucking, and then stopped, but I’m in my unlucky month and I don’t find anybody that’s good enough to satisfy me. And that’s why I’m breaking rules, I like to have fun, but I don’t like to try so many people and fuck with every person I see, you know I hate it.”
“Then why are you doing it? Your toys are not enough anymore?”
“Yeah, I’ll stick to them,” you cut it short, trying to avoid his eyes because you know you will fall. Johnny has this power of dragging things out of your mouth, you’re lucky he didn’t get the tiniest hint of what was going on between you and Haechan or he would’ve made you face some painful truths a long time ago.
“If it was so good, why did you stop?”
You shrug. Fuck.
“That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t know, he wanted to see new people and we just stopped.”
“Really?” Johnny asks with a teasing edge to his voice, clearly mocking you. “He’s not seeing anybody.”
“Maybe he didn’t tell you. You didn’t know about us, and we were both friends with you, so. Or maybe he didn’t find another one, just like me.”
“He seems rather heartbroken, and he asked a weird question about you.”
Now it’s your time to be shocked. He asks about you? He doesn’t hate you after the way you treated him? You’re still in his mind? No, why would any of this matter? Why do you care? It doesn’t matter. “What?” Well, it shouldn’t matter.
“If everything was alright or if something happened to you.”
“Just checking on people is normal.” You shake it off with a nod and raise of shoulders, but something inside you is burning. It’s that flame you think you put out and yet found a way to spark up every time you don’t think about it.
“Not asking if something happened,” he says before walking around and studying you. You are avoiding his gaze and are a raging ball of nervousness, you weren’t even like this with your ex-boyfriend, let alone with your few hook-ups. And then something else clicks in his brain. “Did you cut him off without a word?” And when you don’t answer, and he calls out your name with urgency, you can’t lie anymore.
“Maybe,” you reply with a loud groan, your head falling backwards with force, hitting the backrest so hard you hurt yourself even if there’s the cushion dividing you from the hard surface. “Maybe I did.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He shouts, throwing his hands over his head.
“Johnny, please, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay? I know I was rude, and an asshole.”
“No, you’re in love, it’s different.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Why are you lying? You never called your ex-boyfriend’s name while you were wasted, you never broke any of your rules for him, it took you nothing to move on, and the only reason you got back was because you wanted revenge and because you needed to fill your life with something. You never cared for him nearly as half of what you care for Haechan, so why lie, and why lie to me?”
“I don’t want to,” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your brain spin again while your nails sink into the fabric of the pants Johnny gave you.
“Talk to me?”
“No, to love him.”
There it is; the loud confession. That confession you didn’t even do to yourself alone in the darkness of your room. It’s still bouncing against the walls of Johnny’s place in plain sight under the bright daylight and it pierces your ears and your heart.
Fuck. You’re screwed.
Your eyes lock with Johnny’s and your brain would like to lie and mumble some nonsense but your heart can’t keep bleeding without being taken care of anymore. So, hot salt starts streaming down your face silently and your head faces the ground while two strong arms wrap around you.
You’re screwed.
When you’ve cried all your tears in Johnny’s arms, and you feel like you can try to put it down to words you do it. Maybe with Johnny by your side, it will be easier.
“I don’t know what the hell he did to me.”
“That’s a nice start.”
“I’m not saying I didn’t consider the possibility of this going down a different path and starting to allow feelings in but… like this? I’ve never felt like this before, not even when I fell first, and I’m not even sure I’ve ever loved somebody before if this is how it’s supposed to feel.”
“Then why don’t just let yourself go for once? You don’t have to always have everything under control.”
“But I’m scared. I hated seeing him with someone that wasn’t me. The mere idea of him being with somebody else now makes me sick. This is scary.”
“Love can be scary at times, but that’s what it is.”
You breathe in deeply and rub your temples. “But what if it’s wrong? What if… God, I’m doing all this and I’m not even sure he likes me back.”
“Well, if it’s right, you know, right?”
You shrug, you thought it was right so many times before, and then it never was but this felt different, everything about Haechan hits different, it truly was like an arrow straight to your heart purposefully made to hit you straight to the core and cut you deep.
Johnny sighs, you already talked too much today and faced the truth, he knows he can’t push you any further.
“I’m not saying you have to take him back but… sometimes you can take the good things life gives you without tearing them into pieces. It will tear you into pieces if you keep putting rules to things that are destined to flow freely.”
Going back to the coast feels like torture, especially when both you and Haechan forgot to ask Johnny if the other was there and found out only when you hopped out of the cars and locked eyes after months.
No, you didn’t pick up the phone even after that conversation with Johnny. It felt humiliating to crawl back to him after so much time, so you decided that whatever was going on, was destined to die.
But when your eyes jump into his again, and cheesily, it feels like the time had stopped, you’re not so sure whatever was, or is, going on, is destined to die.
It’s awkward when you don’t know if you should greet him or not, but luckily in the mess of everyone greeting each other, you lose him in the ‘crowd’ of friends. Fortunately, most of them found somebody to bring along so there are double of people than the last time. Unfortunately, that leads you and Haechan to the same room of this summer. Of course, nobody knows, and you’re not quick enough to retort when Mark decides like this after sorting everybody else in other rooms, and Johnny’s not there to save your ass — probably he wouldn’t.
The tension can be cut with a knife and you feel like your head is exploding while you two make your way to the room and then start to put your things in place.
“I can sleep on the couch,” Haechan says, breaking the suffocating silence.
“No, it’s fine,” you almost choke on your words, unprepared, non-expecting he would talk to you first, “we did worse things together,” you chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood but you only get a forced snicker back before he turns around and gives you his back again. You know that wasn’t the smartest answer you could give, but you don’t know how to ease the tension and the heavy weight of guilt in the pit of your stomach.
You want to talk, that should be the right moment to do it, to apologize, at least. But you’re tongue-tied.
“Is there even something to do here during winter?” He speaks, still giving you his back, and it takes you a while to understand he’s addressing you.
“Uhm, yes,” you reply. “The city is nice, and there are mountains just forty minutes away from here so… usually with our families we used to ski.”
“Great,” Haechan hums, standing up, brushing his hands on his pants to flatten the creases of the fabric, “never done it before. Guess I’ll take a look around town. Last time I didn’t get to visit it,” he smiles before walking out and you feel the ground collapse under your feet.
You won’t survive three days like this.
You hated spending time in that house during winter when you were a child, the sun didn’t shine bright enough, the sand was wet and sticky, and you didn’t know how to ski, also you never got why your family spent so much money on that sport when they clearly weren’t as rich as Johnny’s parents, and no one of you was good enough for it to even be fun.
Now nothing changed, the cloudy weather over the sea is depressing, and watching your friends have fun is not making you feel any better, you still don’t know how to ski, and you have a lump in your throat as your brain runs faster than you, screaming how you put yourself in this situation.
The tea in your hand is not hot enough, you wasted too much time stealing glimpses at Haechan and his new crush to drink it when Johnny served it to everybody after all of you came back from the — for you terrible — ski session this afternoon. You didn’t do anything but sit on a bench and hold back your tears while everybody else was having fun. You should’ve stayed at home, it would’ve been better than having to deal with Wonyoung — apparently, that was her name — laugh and giggle every time Haechan opened his mouth, or their intertwined hands while they both tried to learn how to use the ski. And now it’s not going better, she’s sitting on his lap while he caresses her hair with one hand and the other draws circles on her palm, and all your friends are sharing knowing glares as they point at them.
You never had that with him, and the jealousy mixes with bitterness, until you realize that the arrangement you had didn’t include any of that. So why did you want it so much? Why do you want to be her so badly right now?
You sigh, running a finger on the mug in front of you, staring at the brownish liquid as if by magic you’re going to see your future in it, but you think it’s better like this, you’re pretty sure the picture would be a tragedy anyway.
When the talks get irritating, you decide to go back to your room, not even saying anything, you’re not sure about what they want to do, it was in the air to eat at a place downtown but you didn’t pay their talks much attention. You decide to go for a shower with the hope it will relax you and wash away some heaviness, but nothing much changes once you’re out and dressed up in clean clothes. It only gets worse when you open your room, and Haechan is there, laying on the bed with a hand behind his head and his phone in the other.
You pass in front of him, not saying a word, silently putting back in your purse your shampoo and conditioner, and other things you carried with you. He doesn’t talk either. It has been like this the whole day, barely acknowledging each other and now it’s getting too heavy. You owe him an apology, not to make things get back in place, they never will, but because he didn’t deserve it.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you say, turning around, “I’m sorry I avoided you.”
Haechan lifts his head, a small frown connecting his brows for a while, almost as if he’s trying to get what you’re referring to, and when he does, the muscles of his face relax. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t want to… to leave you like this.”
“It doesn’t matter, you had all the right to stop it,” he shrugs, looking down for a second, probably closing the app on his phone because you don’t hear the faint sound of the video playing anymore. “I don’t cry for sex.”
You hum, but you study his face to understand if he’s serious. Was it just sex for him? Were you just sex for him?
“I…” you stop and look away. Your leg is bouncing nervously and you’re playing with your fingers, pressing your nails into your skin. “I have to tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
“I… I lo—”
“Haechannie!” Wonyoung’s voice rings loudly in the room, stopping you from going on. “We are taking a look around, want to come with me and keep me warm? Also, we’ll have dinner together.” You shouldn’t find the way she bats her eyes so irritating, neither her voice, or the way she’s looking at him right now, but you feel like puking, and you hope Haechan will decline; out of all the things he said before, you heard he was tired and wanted to go to bed, so he will say no, right?
“Yeah, I’d love to. Be there in a minute.”
“Ah! You’re the best, baby,” she cheers, running to leave a kiss on his cheeks and then walking out.
“You were saying?” He asks, turning his attention on you, shaking his hair out of his forehead.
You shake your head, gulping. “Nothing,” you smile, it’s forced and fake, and if he’d look closely, he’d see a tear at the corner of your eyes, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at you with his head slightly tilted in mild concern, but you know it’s just for niceties.
“It seemed serious, though?”
“It was just another apology you don’t want,” you breathe out in a bitter chuckle, rubbing your hands on your thighs while your gaze meets the floor. “I lost track of myself during the time we drifted apart, I’m sorry it… it fired back to you.”
“Oh,” he says, “it’s fine, seriously. I just care that you’re fine. You are fine, right?”
You hold back a sob and smile, feeling tears at the corner of your eyes. “Never been better.”
“Good,” he smiles. “You coming?”
“No, I’m tired, I’ll go to bed like a child that has school tomorrow at 8.”
Haechan laughs and then grabs his jacket. “’Kay, don’t take all the bed. You still have that bad habit, don’t you?”
You chuckle, giving him an apologetic look, “I have a bed too big for me only, I’m not used to sharing.”
He nods and then opens the door. “Leave a small patch for me, and don’t have too much fun all alone,” he winks.
You smile and then wave him goodbye.
If crying yourself to sleep was fun, you were about to have the funniest night of your life.
“Been a while, isn’t it?”
The last thing you expect to find in the morning is Haechan’s face looking down at you with a teasing smirk while you rest too close to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” you say, sitting up in the blink of an eye, trying to rub the sleep off your face and scoot away from him.
Haechan scoffs under his breath, painting that bitterness with irony, “It’s nice to know you didn’t change.”
You chuckle awkwardly and then jump off the bed.
“No, definitely didn’t change,” he whispers when you run away from his fingers again. He wants to block you in, to stop you from slipping away, but if he couldn’t do it months ago, he doesn’t see how he can do it now. After all, you’ve never been his. This isn’t different from what you used to do in the morning, now he looks at you and can see that nothing changed. You’re up, putting your hair in a ponytail, rushing to the bathroom to wash up, and he knows you won’t even come back into the room, but run downstairs to have breakfast.
You are long gone and he doesn’t even know how and why he lost you. Maybe it’s better like this, maybe all this silence coming from you can give him a reason to hate you and move on.
But moving on from you seems something impossible to do.
From that moment on, you two decide you can go back to at least be friends and hang out in the same group again. It’s not exactly like before, but it’s better than silence and distance.
Or maybe not.
You can’t stand that Haechan doesn’t sit next to you anymore, he’s always on the other side with Wonyoung, and you can’t bet on it, but you fear that his hand is now resting on her thigh and you hate it.
You don’t show it, not with words, but your body is a neon sign flashing that you don’t want to be there, especially when everyone leaves to take on the dance floor and you’re left with your thoughts.
“Why are you always alone?” Mark asks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Minjeong, but I can still see you’re beautiful and hot, why are you the only single one?”
“The only one?” That’s the only thing your brain registers, making you stare at him with eyes too wide to make it pass like a normal reaction.
“Well, it seems that even Hyuck found someone that can stand his annoying ass,” he jokes, pointing at him and Wonyoung.
“Oh, I didn’t get they were official,” you whisper, your lips quiver, making it look like a smile but it’s pure sadness.
“So it seems, he’s quite private over this.”
You hum and feel your heart break into million pieces again. It shouldn’t hit you so hard and leave you trembling, but it does.
“What about you?”
You shrug, rubbing your arms. “I’m the problem, that’s why I’m single.”
Mark chuckles tenderly, sitting next to you. “So, you’re heartbroken.”
“Maybe.”
“Was it serious?”
“It wasn’t even started.”
“Oh, well, isn’t that better? Maybe it wasn’t even love,” he attempts to lift you up, trying to see it from another perspective. “A lot of times what we tend to consider love is not it. It’s just a lie, something else dressed up as a feeling that is not that deep.”
Yeah, you wish it was it.
“Yeah, surely,” you reply, by now there are no emotions in your voice. “I don’t care, I moved on. I just hate sitting here while looking miserable.”
“Why don’t you go talk to someone? I think that girl at the bar is looking at you?”
“Maybe,” you whisper, not even caring to follow his finger to see the girl that is, in fact, looking at you. “Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom before hitting on people I don’t know,” you joke, smiling at him and letting a laugh follow.
Mark copies you before his hand touches your arm and pats it gently. “It will be fine.”
You nod before pulling your lips into another forced smile. You hope so.
You don’t walk toward the bar, your want to even find someone that can take you home is nowhere to be found, and you sit in a corner to stare at Haechan from afar. He can’t be in love with her, right? But then again, why shouldn’t he?
That torture lasts for a while, and when you think you paid the price for your sin, you grab your things and exit. Sure, you intend to go inside again, Johnny dropped you there, but not now. You need to cool off, and shut your brain. You don’t know how, your method was Haechan but now he is the reason why your mind keeps running a thousand miles per hour.
You’ll find a way, you always did.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Haechan says, leaning next to you against the wall.
A grin curls your lips, and you partly open your eyes to make sure he’s real and not made up by your mind. He is very much real, with his denim jacket that doesn’t keep him any warm and his — now black — hair falling on his face, while his eyes look at you with too much concern. “I tend to self-sabotage a lot,” you whisper, huffing out the air, “you should know it.”
“Yeah, not like this.”
“Hey, I was smoking it!” You scream when he slaps your hand, not hard to hurt you, but hard enough to make the cigarette fall to the ground.
“Since when?”
You roll your eyes, watching the cig on the floor becoming completely useless now that he’s stepping on it, and then you shrug, “I don’t smoke, some guy offered it to me, and I wanted to see if it has any kick.”
“Why?”
“Why do you care? I’m not your problem.” Your eyes are not on him, staring straight into the night that falls upon the road in front of you, but you can feel his stare burning into your skin. Also, he’s close, and you’re not used to having him this close anymore.
He snorts and you glare at him, but that doesn’t faze him. “You said you were doing fine; it doesn’t look like it.”
“I’m just tired, I want to go home, that’s it.”
“You barely talked, danced, or did anything the whole night,” he points out, rubbing his chin and raising a brow.
“Oh, so you don’t only have eyes for your girlfriend,” you spit out before you can realize it.
“Girlfriend?” He tilts his head, and his lips twitch into a barely visible smirk.
“Yeah, the fake blonde.”
Haechan laughs, “Jealous, babe?”
“No. And don’t call me babe. I’m not your problem and I’m not your babe.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says resolutely.
“Oh, well, ‘cause she’s all over your dick so it looked like.”
Another laugh rolls from his lips, this time louder and without a nervous grin hidden behind. “You are jealous.”
“I’m not,” you retort, frowning.
“You were the one all over my dick, and you decided to stop that.”
“I wasn’t like that. I was on your dick, having the best orgasms of my life, but I never humiliated myself in front of you doing silly voices, calling you Haechannieee, or touching you as if you were about to be kidnapped by the aliens and I wouldn’t have had the chance to see you ever again, or looked at you with those eyes that could — well, you get the picture.”
“Oh, I do. You are so fucking jealous and it’s kinda turning me on, I have to admit,” he teases you with a smug smirk on his face.
“Shut up, asshole,” you smack his arm. “Go back to her.”
“Nah, the aliens are kidnapping me, I guess she’ll have to spend the rest of the night alone.”
You glare at him, eyes dropping on your intertwined arms in disbelief when he links them and starts walking away from there.
“Come on, I’m hungry,” he urges, pushing you with more force.
“What are you doing?” You ask, gesturing nervously with your hands and looking back at the club that was disappearing behind you.
“Taking you to our favourite hamburger place, I could eat you right now for how starved I am.”
“I wouldn’t complain,” you wink shamelessly.
“Not like that,” he says. “I’m not sure you deserve it after the way you behaved.”
You huff but follow him, keeping up with his fast steps, until you reach his car and jump inside. It’s been a while since you’ve been there, and when you stop and think about what happened in the backseats your body heats up, but you try not to think about that, and instead turn on the heater and the music how you like. Haechan only laughs lowly, and you know he doesn’t mind, after all these months he knows you can pass as bossy sometimes, and like things in a certain way, so he lets you.
“I told you I’m sorry and you said it was fine,” you retort, not letting his remark of before go unnoticed.
“You just don’t read me, do you? Like, fuck, you are hard to read but I’m an open book and you truly think that shit didn’t hurt?”
“I think it hurt you that’s why I felt like shit, and that’s why with each passing day I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I get scared when things go well, and it’s not right, it’s not healthy, and I know I hurt you, but I’m sorry, I truly am. You can ask Johnny, he knows it.”
“Yeah, I know he knows.”
“You know he knows?” You scream. It is always Johnny’s fault.
“I know he knows,” he replies with too much calm for your liking. “He had to spill something when I thought you hated me, and I couldn’t sleep thinking about what I could’ve done wrong. He told me you didn’t hate me, that you are dumb and don’t know how to deal with anything in your life that doesn’t follow exactly the path you traced, and I thought ‘oh yeah, seems fitting of her, not surprised’ and moved on… well, tried to.”
“Oh,” you gasp.
“Oh?” He snorts, shaking his head. “All you can say?”
“Do you want me to spend the whole ride saying I’m an asshole?”
Haechan laughs, “It would be entertaining but I will save you from humiliation.”
“Thanks,” you utter, looking out of the window and grinning. This is wild, all over the place, and smells like the calm before the storm, but you like it because you’re back with him by your side.
When you arrive at what used to be your place, you sit at your table while he orders your usual. For him, a double cheeseburger and for you, the big fries’ portion with a sauce that only that place makes — that you would’ve shared with him but only if he begged well enough.
“I missed this,” he whispers after a few minutes when you’re both halfway through your order.
“The burger? Yeah, I missed this sauce, God, I will find someone that sells this.”
“I missed this, dumbass,” he says, and you feel your heart in your throat when your eyes meet, and he has that glint that you love so much. It’s like a light shining through, and some softness that only shows up in certain moments, you still don’t know what causes it, but you love it.
“Oh, I… I missed this too,” you mumble, diverting the gaze and cleaning your mouth with the napkin to keep yourself busy.
“Wow, wow, wow, wait, you? Getting a tiny, little, small, fainty, invisible bit sentimental?”
“Stupid! You make me look like a heartless bitch.”
Haechan raises his brows and cocks his head to the side.
“Don’t look at me with that face. You know I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I broke my rules for you!” You confess in the heat of the moment, raising your voice, the last words coming out in a squeak.
Oh, shit.
Haechan is confused and you don’t know how to save yourself.
“Rules?” He asks with a frown as he stops midway with his hamburger in hand.
“It’s nothing,” you shrug, grabbing the cola and bringing it to your lips.
He swallows, shaking his head to try to understand if he got it right. “You had rules?”
“I didn’t.” You try to focus on the fries now, but even the window looks tempting, it’s near and you could easily escape from there and ghost him agai—
“So, maybe you are not a cold, heartless, emotionless, impenetrable, untouchable, person after all?”
You sigh, rubbing your neck, and giving up the escape plan. Like the old times, you can give him what he wants without actually giving him what he wants, right? Just a small peek into yourself and then he’s out. “I let you sleep in my bed, only three people had the honour, Johnny, unfortunately my ex, and you.”
Haechan’s lips curl up and his nose twitches. “You are the sweetest person for breaking your rule.”
“That’s not a rule,” you lie but this time he falls for it.
“Then what were the rules?”
“Just eat, and then let’s go home. You’re so curious for no reason.”
“Yeah, you shared too much tonight, would never want to stress you,” he jokes before stealing one of your fries and send you a flying kiss.
“Thanks for the food,” you say when you both reach the door of your apartment. He usually wouldn’t come out of the car to walk you to the door of the complex, and even less he would reach the apartment door. But you didn’t stop him when he followed you in the elevator, you didn’t even flinch, almost as if that was how it was supposed to be.
“Nothing,” he smiles. “It was fun, talking and you know, just us, like the old times.”
You chuckle tenderly, nodding while trying to find the courage to ask one more thing, “Want to come in?”
“I don’t have a toothbrush at your place,” he laughs, reminding you that in the heat of the rush, you never went back to pick up all your things at his place.
“I should have a new one in the cabinet.”
Things go back to normal after that. You’re not sure it’s healthy, considering you didn’t confess your feelings, aren’t sure he feels the same, he had to be honest with Wonyoung without making any names because you two still want this to be private, and the only confrontations you had on your detachment were those two talks. But it’s fine.
The good sex is back. Haechan is back. You are back. The tension in the air is gone and you can enjoy the nights out without Mark worrying about you looking more dead than alive. And Johnny thinks you finally let loose.
But you didn’t. Some fears still linger inside of you and sometimes are stronger than others times.
“Fuck,” you mumble, “do you really have to push me against the metal bar?”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Haechan laughs, pulling away from the kiss.
“Don’t laugh! This furniture is a menace to society, you need to find something else to put in your entrance,” you say, rubbing your back.
“If you weren’t horny like a bunny and waited at least to the couch to jump on me, I wouldn’t push you against it,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and starting to walk into the leaving room.
“I can’t stand you,” you whisper through the kiss, struggling to get him out of his clothes, but after a while, almost everything is scattered on the floor of his living room and you two are rushing to his bedroom.
“Is it softer for my princess?” He teases when he pushes you down on the mattress and hovers over you.
You roll your eyes but still hum. “I have the back of an 80-year-old, you need to respect that.”
“Doesn’t look like it when I fuck you all night,” he laughs.
“Should we test it?” You’re done playing around. After a dinner out, and an hour driving around town, because you wanted to see the city lights, you needed him. The flirts were unbearable and also it had been the longest week of your life.
And Haechan doesn’t make you repeat it twice, his hands reach your panties and slip between your legs, meeting the wetness that’s collected there. He doesn’t even bother to pull your underwear down, he pushes two fingers into your welcoming warm entrance and starts pumping in and out right away.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, staring in awe between your legs, “you take me so fucking well. Missed my fingers? That’s why you sent those photos the other day, ‘cause yours aren’t enough anymore and you were hoping I would’ve rushed here to fuck you.”
You curse, “Don’t act as if you didn’t start it.”
He scoffs, “It was just a hand pic, needed to know your opinion about the new watch and rings.”
“And the thighs picture?” You try to sound menacing, but his fingers are making your voice tremble, and picturing those images in your mind doesn’t help you either.
“Liked the new grey shorts? They’re pretty, right?”
“Fuck off, Haechan,” you gasp, and he laughs deeply.
“It’s so easy to mess with you,” he coos, leaning in to leave a peck on your lips. “Was the jacking off video enough to make it up for the teasing?”
���No,” you cry out. He couldn’t play with you like that, sending you a video of him fucking his fist while he moaned and whimpered. You had spent the past six days replaying it, waiting for this moment to come, and even if he was so hot even through the camera, you needed to feel him inside, outside, everywhere.
“Is this enough?”
“Yes,” you moan, opening your eyes to meet his. “Just — fuck — go faster, please.”
His lips curl upward while his two fingers start moving at a faster speed, you almost come on the spot when he presses a hand on top of your stomach and moves his thumb in circles on your clit. Your whimpered ‘too much’ gets shut down when his lips fall on yours and start kissing you. You feel lightweight, entire body reacting to his touches and kisses, playing you like a violin. His mouth is delicate and addictive and you find yourself thinking nobody ever kissed you like that. You can’t put a name on whatever ‘that’ is, but you love it.
“Why are you kissing me like that?”
“Like what?” He whispers, huffing air against your wet lips and staring straight into your eyes.
Like you mean it.
“Nothing, just —” your lips meet his again while your fingers tangle in his hair and his free hand runs on your smaller back, pushing you flat against him. “Fuck.” You feel his digits deeper and your brain starts spinning faster while your boobs rise fast trapped in the lingerie that is still on your body.
“Hyuck,” you cry out, reaching his wrist to slow his movement since you feel too sensitive.
“I’m not stopping, babe. You’ve been thinking about this for days.”
“I — I know but —”
He shushes you again with kisses while he moves your hips so he can hit exactly where he wants, making you scream out when his fingertips start slamming quickly against your sweet spot. You are breathless and you feel your stomach tighten while your legs spread to give him space to give you everything.
“Come for me, come on,” he encourages, pressing delicate kisses on your rising chest and whispering praises.
Your scream pierces the bedroom of his apartment when one twist of his wrist makes your high explode. Your nails dig deep into his arm in response as the sensations feel overwhelming when he doesn’t stop right away, making sure he’s getting every last drop out of you.
“Hyu-hyuck, enough — enough, please,” you snarl, hips bucking up in erratic motions that make him smirk proudly.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says before licking his fingers clean after he pulled out of you reluctantly. He loved making you come with his fingers only, watching them move past your pussy, while your cum coated them and dripped down his wrist and your ass, he loved how he could be all over you.
You don’t reply but you feel it’s something to be afraid of since he’s looking at you with a devilish grin on his face.
“Wanna see it?” He smirks, jumping off the bed and shoving his boxers down, finally giving you a sight of his hard throbbing dick.
You hum lowly in reply, forcing your eyes up from between his thighs and following him with your gaze as he walks to the closet and roams through something before he comes back to you with one hand behind his back.
“You’re scaring me,” you breathe out.
“I’m sure you’ll love it.”
Your mouth opens in surprise when he pulls out a small wand vibrator. It’s not the first time you use a toy, though you never had a vibrator of that kind, you’re just worried about what he wants to do with that.
“You won’t edge me, right?”
“Why not?” He asks, starting to jerk his hard cock, collecting pre-cum and making it fall on your lower stomach. “You look so pretty when no coherent words come out of your mouth and your eyes are empty… well, filled with lust and me, but empty of anything else.”
You groan, about to lift your torso but he pushes you back right away. “Don’t move,” he orders sternly, caressing your inner thigh as he slowly drags your panties down, leaving you bare, and then pulls you closer. His cock brushes over your pussy, but that’s not where you need him.
Haechan laughs, seeing the desperation in your eyes, finding it funny you’re truly thinking he won’t fuck you. “Honey, I need this pussy just as much as you need my cock, I won’t disappoint you,” he groans and then drives his hips back to align himself to your gaping entrance.
“Why do you always make me wait,” you cry out.
“Because it wouldn’t be funny otherwise,” he clicks his tongue, wrapping a hand on the base of his dick and then smearing your wetness everywhere on your pussy, but he doesn’t slip in. “Should we try this new toy before?”
You huff loudly, rolling your head back and the laugh that resonates through his ribcage makes you want to slap him but you’re left breathless once again when the vibrator starts buzzing right against your clit.
“Shit,” you curse, fingers gripping the sheets tightly and toes curling. “Haechan.”
“Yeah, that’s my name,” he taunts, playing with the different speeds and you know that’s not the first time he had the toy in hand, he doesn’t need to try it, he just wants to drive you insane, keeping you on the edge as the rhythm keeps changing and the fat tip of his cock is still pressing halfway into your cunt.
“Please,” you beg, opening your closed eyes and struggling to even breathe out that single word as he keeps messing with you.
“Please, what?” He leans down, he’s so close your noses almost touch and his breath hits your lips. “Use your words, babe.”
You inhale deeply, breathe breaking in the middle when he goes back to the higher frequency and you come on the spot, stilling as the rushes of pleasure invade your body and put a proud smirk on his face.
“Was that what you wanted?” He questions, kindly lowering the vibrations and pushing just a bit more of his tip into you.
“No,” you cry out, “want you.”
He quirks a brow, caressing your cheeks gently and kissing your lips. “Will you ask nicely?” He says, but when you only part your lips to let out sinful sounds and barely shake your head, he snaps. “I’m sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear,” he fakes a sweet tone before he growls and slaps your clit, “ask nicely.”
You gasp, feeling sparks rush through you when the spank hits. “Please, Haechan, please fuck me. I — I need you to fuck me. I’ve been — shit — thinking about you all week, wanted to — to feel your body and — nggh — your touch, please.” You feel on the verge of tears as the vibrator keeps going on your clit and the man between your legs is barely inside you.
But maybe that’s enough for him, maybe you did great and he will give you what you want.
“How much do you need me?”
Or maybe not.
“So much, so, so, so much. I dreamed of you, day and night, mhh,” you swallow a moan, fighting against another orgasm. “Fuck me ‘til I forget my name, please?”
Haechan moans, bottoming into you in a second, finally giving you what you deserve.
“Oh, God,” you gasp out when he fills you up, feeling overflowing with emotions. “Please, fuck me,” you don’t waste time begging again. You need him to move, to send you into the spiral of emptiness and fullness only he can push you into.
“I leave you starving for a week or less and you go completely crazy,” he mocks, picking up the rhythm he knows you love while he keeps the toy in place. “My greedy baby, aren’t you?”
You’re deep down that spiral because that sweet, condescending tone and the possessive pronoun don’t make you mad but instead, they make your heart jump to your throat and your heat clench around him.
He smirks when you don’t reply and angles your hips better so he can reach where he has you trembling.
“You’re making a mess, fuck,” he groans, drifting his gaze from your face to look between your legs. “You love this toy. Picked a nice gift, haven’t I?”
The teasing, bragging tone of his voice would make you talk back to him but you can’t say much. The intermitted buzzing of the toy and the never-ending pounding of his dick are driving you wild. Your head is rolled back and you don’t even care to shut down your moans, fuck the neighbours, after you two heard them fuck for three hours straight last week this was fair payback.
“Hyuck,” you cry louder when he changes the rhythm again and this time the vibration builds up slowly before crashing down, kinda like waves. “You’ll — fuck — too good.”
“I’ll what, babe?” He grins. “Make you come again? Drive you insane?”
You nod, jaw slack because you feel like you can’t breathe in enough air. And when the nth orgasm breaks through, tears erupt down your face. Haechan’s gentle enough to pull the toy away, probably not cause it’s a genuine move of heart but only because he’s too lost in your blissed face.
“Fuck,” he curses, shakily moving his fingers to caress your wet cheeks. The last time he saw you cry wasn’t a great view, and it was because of an asshole, but this time he is the reason for those tears, and they look so beautiful on your pretty, overwhelmed face. He thinks he loves when you get so vulnerable with him, he doesn’t even care that you only get like this during sex, he still has that power over you, and knowing you, this is already the biggest sign of trust you can gift him. “You’re so pretty, you know?”
A dumb smile paints on your face as your hands reach for him to pull him closer. You feel like your brain is melting and your bones are ashes but you want to feel that skin-on-skin contact more. You want him all over you, deeper into you, seeping into the smallest creases of you so that you can’t wash him away for days.
Haechan moans your name in a heated kiss when you clench around him. “Taking me so fucking well, that’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing back again on your lips. “My good girl.”
“Yours,” you whimper through moans and sobs.
“Yeah, mine,” he whispers back, changing the angle of his thrust so he can hit your sweet spot better and exactly how you like. But right now is just too much for you, between your clit being endlessly stimulated, his cock hitting deep into you and his lips and hands on your body, you’re sure you can’t drag this longer.
“Don’t you fucking dare pull away, hands off,” he scolds, swatting your hand away when you try to get between him and the vibrator.
“It’s too much,” you whimper, “I can’t anymore.”
“Yes, you can, babe. Just one more,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you softly to calm you down. “Can you take one more for me?” He still checks, slowing his movements and slowing down the speed of the wand.
You hum, breathing out a choked positive answer and he smiles happily, picking up his ministrations inside of you and on your lips. “Good girl,” he praises, “taking it all, taking me so well. I —” he stops, panic flicking behind his eyes but yours are closed and you’re too lost to feel the same rush of fear into you. “I’m so proud of you.”
Your heart jumps in your chest, and you feel like you could melt. Praises have never done anything to you until they started coming out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like a mock anymore, or like a nicety said just to be cliché and repeat some erotica-porn-type catchphrase. You know he means it.
Your eyes snap open when he starts fucking you faster, turning the vibration at that high setting and never changing it until you would’ve been done. Curse spill from your lips, but Haechan catches them all inside his mouth. He doesn’t do it to keep you silent, Mark’s not home anyway, he does it for another reason. Almost as if he’s addicted to your lips, or you.
“Hyuck,” you breathe out.
“I know, baby. I know,” he coos before sticking his face in the crook of your neck to smear wet pecks on your skin. “Come with me, okay?”
You hum, shaking your head in quick motions and trapping your lower lip in your teeth because you know your moans would be screams by now, and before the neighbours might mislead this beautiful sex for a crime scene, you try to keep it under control. Haechan is not as careful as you, his velvety, deep moans slip freely and you can’t blame him, your pussy must be gripping him tighter than ever before and be just as wet, the lewd wet sounds are a clear indication of how turned on you are.
And something between all that makes you both reach your climax, panting and squirming against each other before you go slack on the mattress and he collapses on top of you, thoughtful enough to turn off the toy and threw it at the side of the bed.
You feel lost in a haze when you turn around and snuggle closer to him, breathing in his scent and running your fingers on his chest. You look up and see him smiling lazily at you, and you reciprocate.
“You amaze me sometimes,” he whispers mindlessly, letting his hand run on your back, reaching your hair to brush some strands, following their natural pattern.
You chuckle, “For taking your cock so well?”
He snorts, rolling his eyes and leaning closer to you; the temptation to kiss you is strong, and weirdly enough you still haven’t moved back, but he knows he can’t risk it. “For taking everything I give you so well.”
“Fair.”
You stay there for a while more, waiting for your bodies to recharge a bit but the more he holds you in his arms the more you feel sleep take over you. But you both know you can’t sleep in those conditions, so Haechan breaks the magic.
“Should we order something to eat and in the meanwhile take a bath?”
You stretch, and hum. “If you carry me to the bathroom.”
Once he has ordered food and you’re both sitting in the bathtub, you let the warmth of the water wrap around you. It feels nice after the exhausting sex, and you love the scent of Haechan’s body wash, you love feeling his arms around you and his hands on you.
There’s nothing sexual about this, he’s delicately cleaning you with the sponge while you talk about stupid things and make jokes.
It’s warm. And safe. And special.
It’s different.
From anything else that ever happened before with anybody else, and even with him. And you think you might get used to this.
To a home, not a house.
To a place to come back to that’s full of life and love.
To him, and his laugh, and his voice, and his clothes scattered around, and his screams when he loses against his friends.
You truly believe you could get used to this.
But all the fears you have to face still appear like an insurmountable wall that menaces crashing on you.
Haechan has no intention of letting it slide this time. When he can’t reach you through call, when you still don’t answer his texts after five days, he knows he won’t write pathetic, heartbroken messages to you to let you go again.
He’s mad, furious, even, and once again, he can’t understand you.
You were back together, better than before, closer than before, and now, you’re gone without a word another time.
He doesn’t bother to text you to warn you, he’s pretty sure if you knew he was coming, you would’ve escaped to the other side of the world, leaving no traces behind. So he’s standing at your door, ringing the bell with no patience, and huffing loudly.
When the door opens and you murmur a curse after blabbering Johnny’s name because you were expecting to find him, your eyes widen.
“Haechan?” You whisper, throat dry and hand shaking on the knob.
He doesn’t say anything, he pushes you to the side and enters the place.
“Haechan, I can —” you start, but his glare stops you.
“Why do you always ruin everything good?” His voice is shaking and so are his lips, quivering even now that he’s not talking anymore.
And you’re frozen. You’re not ready for this. You didn’t prepare a speech before, you don’t have an explanation about your personality and you two. You spent the last five days working and worrying because things went wrong once again because you let him too close and now he is there, waiting for an answer you were never able to give yourself.
“I said,” he starts, “why do you ruin everything good?”
“I don’t…”
Haechan groans loudly, throwing his head back and turning around because he can’t stand your face, your tears rolling down your cheeks as if you’re the victim in this, and probably partially you are, but why can’t you let him in? Why can’t you explain it to him? Whatever is bothering you and making you stab him repeatedly. He just wants to know why before he lets you go, but it seems you don’t even know how to do that.
“You ran away from us another time and you can’t give me an explanation?”
“I’m scared, okay? What’s between us is… is not going where I planned it to go and it’s becoming so much. I just don’t know what to do,” you try to explain, trying to keep your composure and don’t shake like a leaf.
Haechan scoffs in disbelief, but the truth is that he’s feeling an abnormal amount of pain just looking into your eyes. “What’s there to know? I thought we were fine. I… I came back to you as if nothing happened, as if you didn’t leave me without a word. I hurt an innocent person all because I wanted to be with you, in any way, I don’t care. I didn’t even want apologies or anything, I just wanted you and I thought we were doing fine but to you, fine is never enough.”
“It was enough, it is. I — I think it’s too much. I don’t know how to deal with this. With you,” you reason, and it’s hard to look into his eyes when you can see all the pain you’re causing.
“I thought…” he stops, backtracking on his own words because none of this makes sense. You never show signs of discomfort when you’re together, you used to bicker much more at the start than now, so your words sound crazy to his ears. “Why can’t you tell me this when I do things that are too much for you?”
“Because they aren’t too much when they happen. I like what we have.”
“Then why do you run away?” He can’t keep his voice low, and those words come out in a scream full of bitter incredulity.
You break into a cry, but you immediately stop yourself, forcing the tears back in your eyes and the sobs down your throat. Once again you can’t give him an answer, just a useless apology. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, keeping eye contact no matter how much it hurts because you need him to know you’re being honest, you’re not lying or putting up walls. It’s just hard to tear down the ones you already have built around yourself.
“No, you’re not,” he retorts, voice lower. “It happened twice, Jesus Christ, twice. You can go back to your ex, the one who treated you like shit, but you can’t at least warn me when you need some time alone.”
You shake your head, pressing your lips flat to hold in the cries. “I don’t need some time alone. I’m confused and overwhelmed.”
“By what?” Haechan urges again, nervously moving in small steps on the spot, feeling like he could explode at any minute.
“Everything. All of this is new to me and I… I’m trying to be a better person. I’m trying not to hurt the ones that I love, and don’t fuck everything up, but I can’t. Everything I touch becomes sick and dies and… and I don’t know what to do.”
Haechan is confused. He thought that what you had had never been better than this, so why is it so different for you? Why are your points of view so far from one another and distorted? Maybe that is the problem, after all, you are too different from each other, not compatible, and it will never work. “But I don’t get you, I’ve tried, I swear, I did, but it’s like — it’s like there’s a wall and I can’t get past it.”
You groan, throwing your head back, but you know that if it’s difficult for you to explain it must be ten times harder for him to understand. “It’s hard for me.”
“But why? I thought I was better than your ex, why are you pushing me away?” He knows he’s not perfect, but he’s never done anything to hurt you, moreover, he always tried everything to protect you and make you feel good, and that went beyond sex. He thought it was clear, but apparently, it was all to waste.
You’re short of words, struggling to come up with an answer. “Because, because, fuck, I’ve never felt like this before. You fucked me up in a way no one else ever did. It’s pathetic the way you make me weak. The way… the way my walls come crashing down when I’m with you.”
“Oh, really?” It’s a scoff, full of sarcasm, mockery and resentment and it’s even followed by a click of the tongue.
Your voice falters as tears break free from your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe you. Of course, he can’t know how much you showed of yourself, parts of you nobody else has ever seen. “They do. You simply don’t pry in, you don’t push me to my limits to make me let you in but the door for you is wide open. I feel… I’m vulnerable.” You stop, taking a deep breath. “When I’m with you, I’m vulnerable.”
Haechan shakes his head, thinking you can’t be serious. The only time you have been vulnerable was because of your ex, and the other times you opened up, well, he’s not so sure you told him anything true. “And yet I still don’t get you, and I’m starting to think I’ll never will because… you act like a child running away when nothing happens. What do you do when things go wrong?”
“I don’t know,” you cry, sliding down on the floor, covering your face with your closed fist. You don’t let things in your life go wrong, because they already went wrong years ago and you can’t even risk for a tragedy to happen again. That’s why you need rules, order, and peace. “I’ve never had something like, something like… this,” you confess, looking at him. “I’ve never had someone like you.” Haechan. The opposite of what you needed until now to survive. There were no rules with him, no order and no peace, but strangely enough, all his opposites didn’t bring you war. Yet, that doesn’t calm you, something about all of this feels like a bomb to you and he still doesn’t understand you.
The heavy sigh that comes from his lips makes you look away. “So, you run when things are good? Will you keep leaving me? Do I have to come running to you, looking for you, not knowing if you want me or if I should leave you space?”
“I don’t know.”
Haechan almost yells. “Stop saying that, it’s infuriating.”
“But I truly have no idea. I just told you. I could tell you about me, but why would you want to listen?”
“Because I love you?” He screams, jaw dropping as he realizes what he said. “Fuck, there, I said it, and I scared you away once and for all, but honestly, I can’t keep doing this any longer. I love you. I don’t know why but I guess I am dumb and always fall for the people I can’t have. But I do. And I would love to sit here and listen to you because, guess what, I want this to work out. Because that’s what normal people do. They talk and they listen. They don’t run away.”
“You — you love me?”
Haechan takes a deep breath, and a tear rolls down his eyes as he hums, nodding. “And you don’t have to say anything, I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but that’s why I hate when you act like this because you don’t let good things come at you in life, I might not be your happy event but…”
“But?”
“Grow up.”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat and more tears flood your face, blurring your view. Those words feel like a gunshot straight to your heart and you can’t believe you’re hearing them from him. You know that wasn’t his initial thought, but he doesn’t backtrack.
“Grow up because you need to learn how to deal with this shit, whatever it is, whatever is making you act like this. Excuses and apologies are not enough. You might not hurt people on purpose, but you still do and I…”
“No, please,” you scream when Haechan starts walking to the door swiftly, opening it before you can even make him out. “Don’t leave,” you cry, struggling to stand on your knees. “Don’t leave me, too.”
He stops and turns around gulping but shaking his head.
“I need to be alone,” his voice is broken and he’s clearly holding back tears, and you’d like to run in his arms and hug him, but, once again, the rational part of you is holding you back, so you let him go, like you let go every other person of your life, with the difference you didn’t care about them as you care about him.
“I can’t keep defending you,” Johnny confesses while he stares at your crying face. You called him sobbing, muttering a few words, but he didn’t need more to come rushing to you. He didn’t even need you to explain, he knew. Haechan had this over-dramatic way of reacting, posting sad Instagram stories with depressing and heart-wrenching songs, and everything led back to you. Also, he had told him he ‘broke’ everything with Wonyoung and Johnny saw how you two were close once again. So, you must’ve fucked it up once again and that was why you two were here.
“You don’t have to,” you weep, hiding your face in his chest, and wrapping your arms around his broad back, deeply hoping he would crash you with his arms and you would stop suffering for all your poor decisions.
“You can’t keep sabotaging yourself,” he says, caressing your scalp in circular motions, knowing that always makes you calm down. “I can’t keep seeing you like this.”
“I was never like this.”
Johnny sighs, “You might not cry but if you think that I don’t know your fucked up coping mechanism, you’re wrong. And we know well it’s not only about love. Everything good that happens in your life you have to turn into a curse. Why?”
“I don’t know.” You know it well, and weirdly it isn’t even in your power.
“You had an offer of a job you loved and you lost it all because you thought you were undeserving and played humble, and let’s not talk about the days before the interview you spent feeling sick because you thought you weren’t good enough for it.”
A broken sniffle rolls from your lips.
“Do we have to go back to the school years?”
“No, thanks.” You don’t need a reminder, the years of tears and stress that you doubled for the standards you set for yourself are still weighing on you, so you don’t want to go back there mentally.
“And love… why do you think you don’t deserve love?”
“I don’t think I don’t deserve it. I never felt something so strong and I’m afraid. What if… what if we’re both not ready to settle down and be serious with this? What if it will break my heart?”
Johnny chuckles, “And what if he’s the love of your life?”
“Oh,” you whisper, your heart speeding up just thinking about it. The long-term scared you, that was why you ran away. You love how you feel good when you’re with him, but you’re terrified it won’t last and once the spell expires you will be left in the ashes.
“The only certain things in life are taxes, if you’re not a rich asshole, and death, but everything else? It’s a shot in the dark. Don’t you think some risks are worth taking?”
“But it will hurt.”
“And isn’t it hurting already?”
“Oh.”
Johnny smiles, caressing your cheek. “Why are you so worried about the future? You can’t make it perfect. You can’t have control over everything, little bird.”
“Don’t call me little bird,” you say, emitting a sound mixed with a sniffle and a chuckle.
“You are. And you still didn’t learn how to fly. But if you don’t fly, how will you live?”
You sigh, rubbing your hands on your face before biting your nails nervously.
“Listen,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and gently whispering your name to make you look at him. “I know why you want to have control so badly. I know why you think that if you plan it all before, think about all the things that could go wrong, and torture yourself into thinking that you can have power over the wilderness of the world and destiny, nothing else will go wrong, but it’s not like this. We both know it.”
You sob louder, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, eyes dropping to the floor as guilt plunges your heart again. “I could’ve saved him.”
“No, you couldn’t have. Some things are just not in our power. I blamed myself too, so many times. But I swore to him I would’ve protected you over anything, and if that anything is yourself and your fears, I will protect you from you.”
You wish you could feel better at his words, but they only make more tears stream down your face. “If I didn’t call him, if I… if I had someone to come home with this wou—”
“It would’ve happened,” Johnny stops you. “You’re not that powerful, little bird. I’m sorry,” he chuckles, wiping your tears away. “None of us is. And it’s all about luck, and just occasionally about merits. So, if life sent Haechan to you, don’t make him slip away.”
“But every time I followed my instinct things went terribly, I feel like I carry so much bad luck around me sometimes.”
Johnny only hugs you for a while, caressing your back and lulling you in his arms. “When you were a kid and let the sea carry you too far away?”
“My father almost died.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Yes, but then… you know what happened.”
“And it wasn’t your fault. After that you never let emotions carry you, you never let someone deep into you because you think everyone could betray you, and unless you have everything written down you don’t do a thing. You hide it quite well, you almost seem normal from the outside.”
You laugh lightly and hug him tighter. You don’t feel better, but maybe he’s right, maybe this is your chance to change your life and stop living in fear.
“So, what do I do?”
“You let Haechan in, maybe explain something to him so he puts his mind at ease because I think that both Adele and Taylor Swift’s discographies are about to end, he seemed rather depressed in his stories.”
“And if it goes wrong?”
“At least you tried.”
A heavy sigh rolls from your lips as you stare blankly at the floor, nervously biting the inside of your cheeks and, once again, trying to think faster than life, maybe if you change your plans, it would count as if you still made them, right? Or maybe this time there is no plan, and it’s right like this.
“I only promised him one thing, and I’m not going to take my words back, little bird. He wanted you to live, to be free, and to be loved. On the way to you, he called me, ranting furiously about how he would’ve killed your stupid boyfriend if he saw him somewhere because nobody could hurt you. He only wanted someone that was right for you. I’m sure he would love Haechan, and who knows, maybe Hyuck is truly sent from above.”
When your closed fist crashes against Haechan’s front door to knock on it you feel like you could pass out. You keep torturing the inside of your cheeks, chewing the flesh nervously, while your right foot nervously bounces against the cold floor.
You slightly jump back when the door opens and your eyes meet with his.
“Who’s — Oh, it’s you,” he whispers and he almost sounds disappointed, you wouldn’t bet on it, but his eyes are not looking at you like they usually would and that makes you regret even more that you came.
“Can we talk?” Your voice is weak and hardly comes out, vocal cords shaking like your body. “No, we need to talk. Please,” you add to don’t sound too rude, it’s the last thing you can be, given the position you’re in.
Haechan sighs, rubbing his face and then moving to the side to let you in. The house is dark, the only light comes from outside, and dead quiet.
“Why are you here?” He questions, crossing his arms and watching as you’re about to sit on the sofa. You stop halfway and gulp, standing up again and clinging to your purse. “You can sit.”
You do, fixing your clothes and looking down at the floor.
“So? I don’t have all day,” he urges and the coldness of his voice is the tenth bad sign that’s screaming you shouldn’t do this.
“About us.”
Haechan chuckles, it’s a bitter laugh, trapped in the back of his throat while his eyes roll to the sky and his head shakes. “Us? Now you decided there’s an us?”
You bite your lower lip and clench your fists. “Please, just let me explain.”
“Sure, can’t wait to hear some other bullshit you’ll have to tell me before disappearing forever,” he says, sitting in front of you, and the distance feels unbearable. You had never seen him this cold, not even when you went back to the coastal town this winter.
“Listen, I’m here to talk like adults, okay? Can we please stop being childish and put the pride away for just an hour? Then I’ll leave if you want to.”
He hums, he’d love to add that he doesn’t want you to leave, but he keeps his mouth shut and waits for you to talk.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “For everything I did to you. Trying not to hurt myself I only hurt you and I didn’t want to.”
He babbles something under his breath, shaking his head, he can’t even be mad at you for long and he hates it.
“And I don’t want you to forgive me, but I think I owe you my honesty, and a bit more of me, you know…”
“You don’t have to.”
“No, I do, because you let me… you let me in. You talked about your family, about your struggles, how you moved here on your own and I said a few things and I even lied.”
Haechan’s face cannot be read, probably a fragment of stupor crosses it or maybe disappointment, but then he scoffs. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I didn’t — I didn’t think we would ever get here,” you confess. “You were supposed to be just sex, Haechan. To be honest, I didn’t even want you to be that. Johnny dragged me to that bar and here we are.”
He gulps, moving his eyes up and down your figure, and then takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to be anything, I just wish you wouldn’t cut me off like this all the time because it hurts. I care about you and the idea of hurting you, even involuntarily, kills me. It’s pathetic, I know, but…” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “but it’s the truth.”
Your heart jumps and you can’t believe his words. So is this how it feels when the person you love the most is about to give you up? “But I do.”
“What?”
“I — I…” you choke up on your words, fighting the tears back. “I want to — I don’t know why it is so hard.” No, you know why, because the last time the words ‘I love you’ slipped from your lips you were bent on a deathbed, beginning your other half to stay alive, to don’t leave you in the madness of the world at fifteen, promising him from then on you were going to listen, to stay in track and never break a rule, but it was all in vain. And now confessing that something as strong as love ties you to someone that wasn’t in your life since forever makes you shit yourself.
“You don’t have to fake it if you don’t feel anything. I know I crossed a line, I know what our rules were and I’m aware I broke them so no, I won’t blame you if I lose you,” Haechan says, stopping probably to gather the courage to add the last words, “I know I already did.”
“No, you didn’t,” you say. “Let me talk, please?”
Haechan’s not sure, taking time to consider his options, but then nods, humming lowly. This might be the last time he has you like this, if he didn’t listen to you now, he would’ve regretted it forever, staying up at night thinking about what you had to say.
“Remember when I told you about Johnny and my brother?” Haechan nods, even if he doesn’t get its correlation with you two. “I lied. They never fought; my brother died,” your voice falters as it comes out to give him such a big piece of you. You take a deep breath and then exhale, “It was all my fault.”
“What?” He blurts out, eyes wide and mouth open. “I mean, I’m sorry, God, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that but… I…”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s alright, I would’ve reacted the same way if you pretended your brother was alive and well.”
“It didn’t happen recently, right?” He’s afraid all this time you left, it was because of that, maybe you were going through a loss and he wasn’t by your side.
You shake your head, playing with your fingers. “I was fifteen, and he was only twenty.”
He mentally takes a breath of relief knowing it was in the past, but he doesn’t feel any better, it’s clear it’s still hard for you to talk about it even if seven years went by. “But… unless you didn’t kill him, how can it be your fault?”
“If only I didn’t call him, if only I listened to my parents and never… never dated him or went on that trip, my brother would be here today.”
Haechan tries to talk but you stop him. “But that’s not why I talked to you about this, I mean, I still have to talk to you about this. I hope it can make you understand why… why I’m like this.”
The man in front of you swallows, and you can read it in his eyes he’s not so sure anymore he wants to dive deep into you, but it’s the only way he can at least try to forgive you.
“I know it sounds crazy but, when I was a child, I was reckless and only trusted my instincts. I loved living to the fullest, you know? I always tried new things and nothing really scared me. I was like this even with people, I always saw their good, but sometimes the good never even existed.”
Haechan doesn’t talk, he only looks at you, listening attentively. And that makes you relax a bit, that was one of his thousand virtues, he always listened and emitted this sense of calm.
“I was like this even as a teenager when I didn’t know men are shit since the day they are born.”
“Fair,” he agrees.
“I’m sorry, like, some of you are just terrible and when I was fourteen I fell for the worst one, but I couldn’t see it. I’ve never been a loser, not in a cliché way, but he seemed so cool in my eyes. He was pretty, popular, funny, for the broken humour of fourteen years old me, and he could do so much more than I could and I was in love, not really looking back at it now, and jealous.”
“I guess he was older?”
“He was, he turned seventeen when I turned fifteen and we weren’t together until then, but I was… a child at heart. I didn’t feel ready to try a lot of new things and he always pressured me into them. My parents didn’t like him, but I was headstrong and didn’t listen. Anyway, we dated for a while and everything was fine, until one day he asked me to go camping with his friends. I was so happy, it was my first night out with people I wasn’t super close with and we were under the sky, in my mind it was going to be the most romantic night of my life until it turned into a nightmare. My parents didn’t want me to go, so I had a fight with them and my brother took my defences, saying that I had to make my first experiences and if something happened I could always call home, so they gave up. But I was still mad at them and didn’t want to call them when things went wrong, proving they were right would’ve killed my pride, so I called my brother. I knew he would’ve never said anything to me.”
“Did he… force you?”
You shake your head. “No, but they were doing drugs and mixing it with alcohol and I was afraid, I only knew him and two other girls, but never was in touch with his friends and they were all starting to get too violent, and I didn’t like the jokes, the jokes about me. They started mocking me, for being too naïve, and pure and he didn’t say a word to defend me, he even laughed with them, straight to my face. And then the alcohol made him confess he hated how we still hadn’t fuck because I wasn’t ready, and after that, I snapped. I was terrified he was going to find a way to make it happen somehow that night and I didn’t want to be there. I had nobody to defend me and I couldn’t stay there. So I grabbed my things while fighting with him and ran away, in the middle of the wood, crying and heartbroken…”
“So you called your brother?”
You nod, wiping away the tears. “He came rushing, and he wanted to address them but I just wanted to go home, technically to Johnny’s place, I didn’t want to see my parents and we had this plan we would’ve kept it a secret from them.”
“So you were already friends with Johnny?”
You nod. “We’ve always been, that’s why I tell you that I could never be attracted to him, he has always been like my second older brother, and now he’s the only one I have left.”
“You don’t have to go on…” Haechan says, seeing how much you’re shaking and how weak your voice is.
“No, I do, I need to. I trust you,” you confess, and the beam behind his eyes dims your tension. “We were driving to Johnny’s place, it was late at night and it also started raining. I know it would’ve happened even if he wasn’t mad because we were in the right, he was driving well, but if only I didn’t call him up he would’ve been at home and not in that damn crossroad.” You can’t go on and you lower your head while you try to gather your thoughts and stop your body from shaking. You feel Haechan’s hand reach yours and you hold it tight after the sofa hollows as he sits next to you.
“The last thing I remember is his hand on my thigh while he caressed my hand to calm me down, and the static, deafening sound in my ear of the crush, the pain and his hand slipping away.”
“So, you were there?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “He didn’t die on the spot, he suffered for like a week, he even woke up, barely had time to talk one last time to all of us and then his heart had a failure and they couldn’t save him.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, contemplating hugging you but it feels out of place, so he only keeps caressing your hand. “And you?”
“Broken leg, broken arm, a minor brain trauma and something else but I’m still here, and he’s not. And why? Because I decided to follow my dumb heart.”
Haechan feels out of place but after what you heard he can’t keep quiet. “I… I think he loved you too much to blame you for something that wasn’t in your power.”
“I know, I swear. I went to therapy, and I know it’s not my fault, I accepted his death and I know he would’ve thrown himself in the flames for me, but I can’t let go of this fear in my everyday life. Not having control drives me crazy and with you, I lost it so soon, it never happened before.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Haechan confesses, he’s still holding your hand because it feels like the only thing he can do. But other than that? He can’t protect you from your fears and he doesn’t know how to give some control into your hands, it’s not in his power either.
“I love you,” you confess, looking into his eyes and he freezes, the hold on your palm loosening. “And that’s the shitties confession ever, and I’m so sorry I just finished trauma dumping you, but I… I can’t keep losing good things in life because I’m afraid of taking risks. I can’t erase you, I’ve tried, but I can’t.”
Haechan’s mouth is wide and he’s not sure if he went completely insane or if those words came out of your mouth for real.
“I can’t move on from you. And I don’t need all the big answers I was searching for to give this a reason, I love you, it’s simple as that.”
“I…” he tries to answer you, but he feels his heart racing and head spinning, you just said you love him, twice.
You stand up and start walking back and forth. “I’ve never been so honest, but I can’t stop thinking of you, dreaming of you, even. And I can’t believe I love being with you so much. God, you were supposed to be just a one-night stand and here we are, you washed over me like a rouge wave and...” you chuckle, eyes glistening as happy tears wet them “... I can’t even care if it made me drown. I love you too much to care about what will happen, to worry about something that might not even happen. But even if it will, even if life will ever tear us away, I want to live in the present, I want to kiss you in front of our friends, I want to hold hands when you pick me up from work, I want to sing with you in the car as we drive to our favorite place, I want to wake up next to you and don’t have to sneak out like a thief. I want to leave my toothbrush at your place, next to yours, right where it belongs.”
You can’t read his expression, your heart dares to say he’s happy, surely shocked and probably thrilled, but your brain is still the annoying douchebag that makes you feel he doesn’t want you back.
“And I know I’m hard to be with but if you want me, if you feel like you can take me for who I am, I promise that I won’t disappear ever again and I will let you in.”
Haechan chuckles and then raises his head to smile at you. “You are the wildest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, you know?” You hum, smiling sadly. “But I can’t get off.” Your eyes light up at his words and your heart starts beating again as if it has been brought back to life.
“So you don’t hate me?”
He shakes his head, standing up to be face to face. “I don’t think I can.”
Your smile lights up the room, and Haechan leans closer. “So, can I kiss you or are we breaking another rule?”
You chuckle. “We are. I think this is the only one we never broke, we never kissed outside of sex.”
“Oh, so this one has to be special…” he caresses your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing your skin with his thumb and then leans in, “…to us?”
You smile, gulping before moving closer, leaving only a few millimetres between you. “To us.” When your lips meet it feels like a patch being put on your broken wings. It’s soft, and there’s still a lot of fear in your shaking hands and lips, but it feels like floating in the sky. You know it’s going to be hard for the both of you, he has his skeletons just like you have yours, but this feels right. This feels like the place where you have to be. In his arms, hanging from his lips.
Haechan hits different. Haechan is like a high-speed train and a bullet to the heart. Haechan is like jumping in the void with no parachute on hoping wings will grow from your back to keep you floating. But it’s good and it makes you feel alive, a feeling you’re now sure you had forgotten a long time ago.
And maybe, after all, you have to thank Johnny for this.
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#nct fanfiction#haechan smut#lee haechan smut#donghyuck smut#lee donghyuck smut#haechan fluff#lee haechan fluff#haechan angst#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#haechan scenarios
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stealing hearts
Mob!Bucky x Thief!Reader��
Run-through: His mansion was highly secured, and yet, breaking in and trying to steal from him was rather easy for a skilled thief like yourself. Key word: trying. Of course you got caught by his men. And the mob boss was known to be ruthless, cold, merciless – the list of his villainy was endless – so you thought he’d end you the moment he laid eyes on a thief like you. However, he didn’t. Instead, he made you an unusual offer. One you couldn’t resist.
Themes: thief!reader, mentions of homelessness and parental death, slight angst, mob!bucky, dom!bucky, slight daddy kink, sex toys, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), smut, fluff, cocky!reader
a/n: more mob!bucky bc i need to write him for my mental health
“Where is he?”
You heard a deep, surprisingly calm male voice ask, followed by multiple footsteps that echoed outside this dark room which resembled a dungeon, or rather a large storage room filled with boxes.
You heard someone correct the man. “Uh, it’s a woman, sir.”
The footsteps stopped for a brief moment, then resumed. The first authoritative voice spoke up again. “She was alone?”
“Yes.”
Silence. More echoing footsteps. “I’ll handle this. Wait here.” Immediately all the other footsteps stopped and only one continued approaching.
A few seconds later, the door opened and a tall man walked in. You knew who he was, you’d broken into his home after all. Bucky Barnes. You had seen his face on the news multiple times. He was also easily recognisable because of his metal arm. He was the one most people feared around here. He was the infamous mob boss. Filthy rich, arrogant, merciless. But powerful more than anything.
He took one look at you, tied to a chair in the middle of the dimly lit room, and scoffed. The asshole scoffed.
You glared at him. “Spare me whatever dark villainous speech you have planned and just shoot me already.” You hissed, looking away from him.
He was quiet for a second. Then said, “What makes you think I have some dark villainous speech prepared?” His voice was surprisingly softer than how he sounded outside. Smooth, rich voice. The kind that felt like a caress.
You turned to look at him again, still glaring, “All you old, rich bastards are the same. You love to hear yourselves talk.”
He chuckled this time, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked in a slow circle around the chair you were currently tied to. “I’m not that old. Besides, wealthy is the right word here.” He ignored the way you scoffed at his words, and continued, “Also, a thief who hates wealthy people? Very original.”
You sarcastically chuckled this time. “See what I mean? You love to hear yourself talk.”
He stopped right behind you, where you couldn’t see him. You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t start racing immediately. Out of your sight, he could have a gun pointed at your head right now and you wouldn’t even know.
He didn’t say a word. He just stood there. Letting the anticipation build. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. Yanking on the ropes didn’t work, you tried that earlier. So you said, “At least have the decency to look me in the eyes while you kill me.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
When you gave him your name, he sighed and said, “Who said I’m gonna kill you?”
Oh?
“Well I can’t imagine you’re gonna let me walk away just like that either.” You’d been observing rich people all your life, you knew how they operated. You knew he would ask for something in return.
“No,” He said, remaining out of your sight. “No, I won’t let you walk away just like that.” He confirmed.
You laughed humorlessly. “Just so you know, I don’t have any money.”
He ignored you. “Who sent you?” He asked.
Ah, the interrogation. Again. “Your loyal guard dogs already asked me that while they were tying me down. And they used some very colourful language too,” You scoffed. “And I’ll repeat what I said to them. No one sent me. I don’t work for anyone.”
He began walking around you again, coming to a stop right in front of you this time. You looked up at him. Damn he was… kind of handsome. You couldn’t help but smirk, then failed at hiding it.
“What’s with the smirk?” He asked. You were surprised with how calm he was with this whole thing. It was unnatural.
You held his stare as you spoke, “Nothing I was just thinking about how I used to watch the news growing up and they always mentioned how much of a big bad monster you are. But there’s not even a single battle scar on your pretty face.”
He chuckled this time, shaking his head as he looked away from you for a brief moment. “Stop making me sound old. Also, the scars are everywhere but on my face.” He said, stepping closer, bending down a little so he could whisper, “And did you just call me pretty?”
Your smirk faded. Your murderous glare returned. “Fuck you.” You said quietly.
He stepped back with a proud smirk on his face. “How did you get in here? With no help? I’m finding that hard to believe.”
The smirk came back. “You’re doubting my amazing thieving skills? I spent years perfecting them mind you.”
He sighed. “Years? You look twenty-five at most, have you been stealing shit since you were a kid?”
You shrugged, or tried to, “Gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Dead parents, grew up with shitty relatives, ran away from there, been a thief ever since.” You summarised your life in that self-deprecating way you always did.
He didn’t laugh, or chuckle. He just stared at you with an expression you couldn’t read. “Where do you even live?”
You gave him a sassy smile, “I’m a thief, I break into somewhere new each night. You’d be surprised at how many vacant apartments with comfy beds there are in this area.”
Again, he gave you that same poker face. Handsome poker face. “And you broke into my house tonight for what? To sleep?”
“House?” You gasped dramatically. “This is a damn castle. Though the décor is a little too dark, then again it suits you, you know? Nice gardens, by the way.”
He sighed again, like he was dealing with a difficult child. “Why did you come here? And how? How did you get past my guys?”
You took a deep breath and began explaining, “Number one, I came here to steal whatever expensive things I could find. Though you do have very nice comfy beds but I never,” You put more emphasis, “ever, sleep in a house when the owner is home.”
“Charming.” He commented.
You continued explaining.
“And as for how, well I spent the last few days hiding and watching. You have thick bushes out near the entrance of your castle. I stayed there, observed and learnt your security guards’ schedule, and found out that the multiple cameras around your property also rotate. I figured out that I had exactly a fourteen-second window to get past the gates. I found a chance and took it. Picking the locks was easy. But then your people just had to catch me while I was halfway through stealing that lovely painting from your lovely library.” You finished with a smile so sweet it had him sighing again. “And now here we are.”
He mumbled something under his breath about god saving him, then he walked to the door and opened it. He called out a name and someone came running. A young man with a sweet face, looking younger than you even, walked into the room.
“Peter, I need you to make all necessary arrangements.” Bucky pointed in your direction and said, “She’ll be staying with us. Looks like we have a new member.”
You ignored Peter’s very confused look, and hissed at Bucky. “What? I didn’t agree to this!”
Bucky turned to face you with a serious look on his face. “You have no job, no income, and no place to live. I’m offering you all three and you are not in a position to refuse me.” He continued over your attempt at cutting him off. “You have skills I could use. From now on, you work for me.” He paused. “Agreed, little thief?”
You glared at him. Damn. A job, a salary, and a roof over your head? The bastard knew you couldn’t refuse. You had to be smart here. He could’ve killed you, but he didn’t. Instead he made you this almost irresistible offer. This could only mean that…
“You really need me for something, don’t you?” You asked, suddenly sounding cocky.
He clenched his jaw. And that was confirmation enough. “We’ll talk business later.”
You laughed in his face. “Alright, alright, don’t get too excited. But if I’m working for you, I have some conditions and requests.”
He blinked. The Peter guy was so quiet and still you almost forgot he was in the room. “What makes you think you’re in a position to have conditions, or make requests? I could’ve killed you the moment I saw you, you know that?” That cold voice of his would’ve sent shivers down anyone else’s back.
“But you didn’t because you need me.” You argued with a sly smirk. “Now, here’s everything I need,” You turned to Peter and began listing, “A nice room, preferably the guest bedroom at the end of the right wing.” You winked at Bucky and said, “I checked it out earlier and it has the best view.” You turned to Peter and continued, “I also want a whole new, complete wardrobe, with bags and shoes and everything.” You looked at Bucky and said, “Can I also have a car and a chauffeur?”
He frowned. “No.”
“What if I need to move around? Run errands, go get my nails done and all?” You fake pouted.
“I said no.”
You rolled your eyes, “Fine, can I have a pet horse?”
Bucky sighed, “No.”
“A puppy then?”
“What are you, a child?” He questioned.
You smirked, “I mean you’re probably old enough to be my father.” You teased him and tried again, “Can I please have a puppy, daddy?” You knew the way you said it sounded far away from innocent.
Bucky walked over to you so fast your brain barely registered it. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and stared deep into your eyes. “If that’s the case then daddy can also put you over his lap if you keep being a brat, and spank your little butt raw until you either cry or come, or both. Is that what you want, little thief?”
You were breathless as you whispered, “No.” That wasn’t entirely true, and damn it, you both knew it in that moment.
Bucky smirked. “Good girl.” He whispered. Then stepped away and turned to Peter and said, “Untie her and get her whatever she wants.” He looked at you as he said, “No cars, horses, or dogs.”
Then he left the room. Leaving you speechless, and very much wet.
—
Peter, you learnt, was one of Bucky’s assistants. Whatever Bucky asked him to do, he did. That included sending a group of mean looking men out to shop for all that you had written down on your ‘Requirements’ list.
He showed you to your requested room and promised your stuff will be here before the end of the day. And sure enough, by the time the sunset everything you had asked for was brought to you.
You squealed when you entered the closet, excited to put away all your new things. Clothes, accessories, bags, shoes, toiletries, makeup, skin care products, and more.
Peter came by again in the evening, bringing you dinner and said, “Boss said he’d see you in his office tomorrow morning at eight. Don’t be late, please. He hates it when people aren’t punctual.”
You’d be lying if you said the mention of Bucky didn’t immediately remind you of what he said earlier about you being on his lap and… ugh. Damn him.
For the first time in a long time, you went to bed with a full belly that night. And you squealed again when you got in the comfy bed, freshly showered and moisturised. As you drifted off to sleep, feeling weirdly warm and safe, you forgot all about your meeting with Bucky the next morning, and how you needed to be up early for it.
—
Bucky couldn’t sleep that night. So much had happened in such a short time. One moment he was having a quiet, calm day of golfing with Sam, and the next he got a phone call from his security guys that his mansion had been broken into.
He went from spending a rare day off with his best friend, to having a sassy, drop dead gorgeous thief in his guest room. He sighed, sipping on his whiskey, holding the phone to his ear as he looked out of his bedroom window.
“Oh, I know that sigh of defeat.” Sam laughed through the phone. “Is she really that pretty that you couldn’t even use your brain?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. And here he thought calling Sam to complain about everything was a good idea. Of course the latter would only make fun of him. In fact, he thought, maybe Sam would team up with you and you two would make fun of him together.
“Shut up, Sam. I’m serious.” Bucky sighed again, “She pisses me off but at the same time… I don’t know. This girl has been living like a fugitive since she was a kid. I looked up the relatives she ran from, her uncle and aunt, and honestly, anyone would run from them. God knows what kind of messed up shit she’s witnessed and been through her whole life.”
Sam was quiet, listening.
Bucky continued. “You know the bushes near the entrance? She hid there for days. Days, Sam! Through the rain, and cold nights all just so she could study the guards’ movements. She probably didn’t eat that whole time. Who knows when’s the last time she had a warm meal? She’s so resilient. And strong. But so sassy, and the way she runs that mouth it makes you want to-,”
Bucky exhaled, exasperated. And continued.
“She has that look in her eyes, you know?” Bucky thought back to earlier when he first saw you. “Life hasn’t been kind to her. She has really sad eyes. Like she was forced to grow up and take care of herself. I couldn’t…” Bucky trailed off, “I couldn’t just let her go back to living like that. Go ahead, make fun of me for it.” He sighed. “She’s gonna be really useful to me.” He stated. “You remember last year? When I was ambushed by Roger’s men? Something of mine was stolen then, and I’m gonna get it back using her.” Bucky already had a plan made. “I needed a skilled thief anyway. I mean she managed to break into my house, that means she actually is really good. She could even lead some of my guys when they go-” Bucky stopped talking and asked, “Are you even listening?”
Sam chuckled, “I am, I am. It’s just rare to see you admire someone like this. Who knew big bad Bucky could be so soft? You better let me win next time we’re golfing, otherwise I’m telling everyone that you have a crush on the thief.”
Bucky groaned, “What is this? What are we, children? I do not like her like that, alright? I’m about a decade and a half older than her. And she won’t stop reminding me of it.”
Sam laughed again. “Oh I like her already. Anyway, have fun with your crush and tell me how it goes.”
“Goodbye, you asshole.” Bucky ended the call and shook his head at the thought of what Sam said. A crush? On a thief? No way.
As he made his way to his study room, Bucky couldn’t help but pause outside the guest room in which you slept. He could hear soft snores coming from within. Something in him felt satisfied that you were able to sleep soundly here, not having to find vacant places to break into. He wanted to keep it that way.
Why? He didn’t know. Whatever it was, Sam was wrong.
As he sat at his desk in his study room, Bucky tried to get work done but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Something about you was different. Bucky never trusted people this easily, let alone allow them into his home.
That reminded him of something… Bucky found the list that Peter had left on his desk. The list of Requirements, as you called it. And as he read all the things his men had to go out and buy earlier, Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. He hadn’t laughed like this in a long time.
Oh this could be fun. Bucky couldn’t wait for your meeting the next morning. At eight sharp.
—
When you woke up, the sun was in your face. But you hadn’t felt so warm and comfy in a long, long time so you relished the feeling. You let out a yawn, opening your eyes slowly. And you found yourself looking right at a rather pissed off Bucky standing at the end of the four-poster bed, with his hands in his pockets.
All black suit, perfect hair, and those blue eyes…
“Oh hi,” You said, taking your sweet time as you sat up in bed. “Good morning.”
“It’s two in the afternoon.” Bucky hissed. “Who sleeps in for that long? You and I had a meeting at eight this morning. I was waiting.”
You yawned again. “I’m sorry, this bed is really, really comfy.” You said, as if that was a decent excuse. “Maybe you shouldn’t have put such nice beds in your guest rooms if you didn’t want your guests to sleep in.”
Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he was trying very hard to contain his annoyance. “You are not a guest. You work for me. So when I tell you to meet me in my office at eight, I want you there.”
You smirked, peeling off the covers and slowly crawling over to the end of the bed where he stood. You knelt on the bed right in front of him, “Oh? You want me?” You teased, knowing he would snap at any moment now.
You remained kneeling on the bed as his metal hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, squeezing just a little. The smirk on your face stayed in place this time, only pissing him off even more. “Watch your mouth, little thief.” He said.
“Or what? You’ll spank me till I… what was it you said?” You repeated his words from the day before, “Till I cry, or come. Or both?” He remained quiet. His hand tightened around your throat, choking you a little bit more. You couldn’t help but whisper, “Jokes on you, I’m into this shit.”
Bucky let go of you immediately. You laughed in his face as he shook his head and shoved his hand in his pocket again.
“Get out of bed and get ready. Meet me in my office in half an hour.” He ordered and turned to leave.
“But I’m hungry,” You said right before he could walk out of the door. “You can’t treat your guests like this, you have to feed me.”
Bucky refrained from groaning. “Fine,” He said, turning to look at you over his shoulder. His broad shoulder. “I’ll have someone bring up some food for you. Now hurry up, don’t be fucking late again.” He barked.
—
Bucky was embarrassed to admit to himself that his hands were shaking as he left your bedroom and walked to his study room. Fuck, less than twenty-four hours and you already had such a bizarre effect on him.
Bucky shut the door behind him, and closed his eyes to find some kind of composure. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The sight of you in those black satin shorts and that tight, excuse of a top… fuck. The sight of you so comfortable in bed had messed him up so much he’d gripped you by the throat like an animal.
He was grateful you didn’t seem to notice the hardness in his pants. He needed to get a grip. How the hell was he supposed to boss you around if this is what a brief interaction was doing to him.
He sat at his desk and waited. And about twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. It was one of the housekeepers with a tray of breakfast food. Bucky waited some more and after a short while, there was another knock at his door. Before he could even open his mouth to say something, you walked in.
Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. Just who allowed you to look this good? You were glowing after a good night of sleep. You looked incredible in your little sundress. Bucky watched as you took a seat on the other side of his desk before he even asked you to. The smell of your body wash and perfume drifted over to him, and he was almost salivating.
He kept watching as you moaned in delight when you took your first sip of coffee, then your first bite of warm croissant.
“Glad to see you’re enjoying your breakfast at,” He checked his watch, “almost three in the afternoon,” He spoke, finally. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss your position here in my house and as my employee.”
You scoffed through a mouthful of some kind of pastry. You swallowed it with a sip of coffee and said, “So formal, my god. Just tell me where to go, what to steal and I’ll do it, no need to be so poetic about it.”
Bucky sighed. “I don’t need you to steal anything at the moment. There is something, but the time isn’t right. I will let you know when it is. But as of now, I have other plans for you.”
You frowned at him as you finished your breakfast. “Okay… I’ll do them under one condition.”
“Enough with your conditions.” Bucky hissed.
Despite his warning, you continued, “There’s this old, abandoned apartment complex,” You said, grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper from his desk like it was your own, scribbling something down, “I have some stuff hidden in there that I need. Not much, just two boxes. I know you won’t let me go but could you have someone go get it for me, please?”
Bucky looked down at the address and apartment number written on the paper. “What stuff?” He asked.
“Just stuff I’ve stolen over the years.”
He scoffed, “But you have everything you need here.”
You nodded, “Some of the things are… priceless.”
Bucky nodded. “Fine. I’ll have someone go get it. Now, about your role here. You’re gonna start training with the guys tomorrow.”
You frowned, “I’m a thief, I don’t need exercise.” You argued.
“No,” He said, calmly as he leaned back into his chair. “But you need to learn how to fight, how to use a gun, a knife, self defence, how to be part of a team and all that.”
Okay. Things got very real. You stayed quiet and nodded.
“Can you drive?”
You shook your head.
“I’ll have someone teach you.”
You shrugged. “So, no stealing for now. Only training like I’m going to battle. Anything else?” You asked.
“Yes, actually.”
–
About an hour later, you stood in the middle of what Bucky called your new workstation. You looked around the spacious room, impressed. It looked a lot like a lab, with every equipment a thief could ever need, even some new tech that you yourself weren’t familiar with. Weapons, trinkets, everything.
“So you want me to teach your guys how to steal using this stuff.”
“I want you to teach them necessary skills.” Bucky corrected. “Strategies. How to be observant. How to pick locks, how to be discreet, how to be invisible and hide for days, how to use a narrow, fourteen-second window to infiltrate a secure place. Whatever else you can teach. Minus the stealing.”
You smirked, leaning against your new desk. “So you like what I do, huh?”
Bucky ignored that. “Don’t cause any trouble.” He said. “I’m paying you to do a good job here.”
You looked around again, not able to fight the genuine smile that formed on your face. “It’s like paying a kid to be at the playground.” You smirked, looking at him with determination in your eyes, and some mischief. “I’m gonna have so much fun here with my new friends.”
“Do not hurt my guys, I need them.”
—
The next couple of weeks went by rather quickly. You woke up each day, excited for a change. No more having to be constantly on the run, no more having to steal for food, clothes, or find shelter. You had more time to live now, not just survive.
Plus you had the lab. It was your favourite place ever. Surrounded by gadgets and tech you didn’t know could exist, weapons that you were starting to get the hang of, and Bucky’s guys that you used as if they were your test subjects – you actually had fun each day.
The dynamic between you and Bucky changed too. And it all started the day after he first showed you your new lab…
“My guys have your stuff from the old apartment. It’s in my office, come get it.” He spoke through the phone – your new phone – ordering you to come collect your stuff.
You almost ran out of your room and to his office. When you got there, the two boxes were placed nicely on one side of his desk. A cardboard one, and the other one was a medium sized metal code-lock box. He stood behind the desk, watching you.
“As requested,” He pointed at the two boxes, “Your stuff.” He paused, then said, “Open them.”
You froze. “Uh, what?”
Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets. “If I’m gonna allow you to keep your stolen goods in my house, I should know what they are. Now come on, open the boxes. I need to check them.”
You walked into the room, shutting the door behind you. As you approached the desk, you tried to find a way out of this. “You don’t need to. They’re nothing. Just things I’ve collected over the years.”
Bucky gave you the usual, handsome poker face. “Would you like me to open them?”
“No,” You said quickly. You rushed to the cardboard box, opening it to let him see the contents. “See? Just books I’ve stolen from everywhere.” You explained as he looked inside the large box filled with old and new books.
“Now the other one.” He said, eyeing the metal box.
“That one has… um, personal things.” You said. “You don’t need to see all that.”
Bucky walked around the desk, stopping only when he was inches away from you. He leaned a little close to your ear and whispered, “I have received bills of all the things you made my guys buy recently. Some of the bills explicitly listed each and every piece of lingerie and underwear you ordered, including a certain little red thong you’re possibly wearing right now.” He said, making you shiver. “And now you wanna talk about boundaries?”
You pulled away to look at him, seeing the proud triumph in his eyes. “Fine.” You refused to let him win this one. You reached for the box, unlocked it, opened the lid and waited. Bucky was quiet. Too quiet. “Say something.” You whispered, “This is very awkward.”
Finally he did.
“Get on the desk.” He said. You froze again and seeing that you weren’t moving he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “I said, get on the desk. If I’m gonna allow you to keep all of these toys, then I better test their… effectiveness as well.”
You avoided his eyes, focusing on the top buttons of his shirt as you asked, “What kind of rule is that?”
“My kind.” He replied. “Now get on the desk. Legs up and spread them so I can see exactly what I have to deal with.”
Fuck.
You sat up on the desk, feeling just a little coy as you lifted your legs up and placed them on the edge of the desk, spreading your knees as far as they would go so he could look at you down there.
Bucky scoffed. “See? There’s that red thong.” He pulled his metal hand out of his pocket, placing it on your inner thigh, slowly inching upwards. His cold fingers lazily teased your clit, then slid down to inspect your wet folds. He pulled the thong to the side and mindlessly dragged a metal finger up and down your slit, making you shiver and moan as he touched you.
You let out a quiet whimper which made him groan.
You looked down in between your thighs, his hand teasing you like it was the most casual thing. You sheepishly looked up and into his piercing, icy blue eyes that were already staring at you. You couldn’t look away.
“Which one’s your favourite?” He asked. And it took you a little while to realise that he was referring to the pile of sex toys in the metal box.
“The, uh… the vibrator.” You answered. Your face got all hot but you refused to seem embarrassed.
Bucky smirked, pulling his hand away to reach for the vibrator. Light pink wand with a bulbous head. Bucky looked at it, then at you. He looked down at your wet folds and spat before turning the wand on and pressing it right on your clit. His spit helped the toy to move around better as he circled your clit with it, before moving it up and down your slit.
You couldn’t help but moan and gasp as you felt the familiar pressure forming in between your legs, and you involuntarily bucked your hips against the vibrator, trying desperately to chase your orgasm. Of course Bucky noticed, and he scoffed as he lifted the vibrator off you, denying you your release.
“No,” You whined, closing your eyes and tilting your head back, “Please…” You begged.
“Look at me,” he said, softly. You looked back at him as his other hand wrapped around your throat. Bucky leaned in enough so that his lips brushed against yours when he spoke. “You will come when I allow it, you hear me?
You nodded immediately.
“Good girl.” He said as he placed the vibrator back against your core. You felt the vibrations all over your body, as you stared into his icy blue eyes. He moved the toy around a little more before lifting it off you again, turning it off this time. “You can take your books and go now, this box stays with me.”
He put the vibrator back safely, shutting the box.
You closed your legs, hopping off of his desk. “What do you mean it stays with you? You can’t just… just steal my toys!” You frowned at him, pissed.
Bucky gave you an annoying smirk. “Yes I can. Now whenever you need a toy, you can come ask for it. If I feel like it, I’ll let you have it.”
Bastard.
You left his office angrily that afternoon. And vowed never to beg for any of the toys in that box. Let him have it. Screw him, right?
Wrong.
You couldn’t sleep that night. Your fingers didn’t relieve you as much as the vibrator would have. And that’s how you found yourself swallowing your pride and knocking on his office door. The lights were on so you figured he’d still be in there.
“Come in.” He said and you could already hear the smirk in his voice.
You opened the door, walked in and shut it behind you. “I need it.” You said, looking at him as he lounged on the couch near his desk.
“Need what?” He asked, acting oblivious as he placed his drink down and pretended to be confused.
You rolled your eyes at him. “The vibrator. Please.”
He leaned back on the couch, with a playful smirk on his face. “Oh I put it in the trash. I put all of them in the trash.”
You blinked. It took a moment for the anger to surface. You took a step towards the couch. “Do you know what I had to do in order to rob that sex store? I had to fight the guy who was closing up for the day. With a baseball bat! And you know the worst part? He was one of my ex flings!”
Bucky let out a chuckle.
“Don’t just sit there and laugh! What am I supposed to do now?”
He gave you a mischievous look and said, “Come here.”
You crossed your arms over your chest and stood there in the middle of his office. “No.”
“Keep being a brat and I will drag you here by your hair if I have to.” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Try me.” And those words had you moving towards him at once.
You reached the couch where he was sitting and stood in front of him. “Now what?”
“Get on my lap.”
You rolled your eyes, refusing to show how his words and tone made you want to drop to your knees and take him in your mouth instead. “You’re such a disgusting, old, pervert who just wants to-,”
He cut you off by pulling you into his lap and grabbing you by the throat. His metal hand squeezed your throat just enough to make you whimper. “What did I say about you and your smart mouth? Hmm?” Then he scoffed and said, “Right, I forgot you’re into this shit.” He squeezed your throat a little more. “If I reached down there, would I find that you’re completely wet and ready for me?”
You whimpered again, instinctively grinding on his lap. He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Look at you,” He murmured. “You won’t need your toys now,” He said, “If you need to come, you ask for my cock. Understood?”
You nodded immediately.
He smirked. “Now, will you be a good girl and fuck yourself on daddy’s cock or what?”
You whined, nodding, “Please…”
Bucky couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss then. All your whimpering was too much for him to handle and he couldn’t take it anymore.
You kissed him back, allowing him to almost tear your PJs off of your body. You only pulled away from the kiss to say, “We need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”
Bucky nodded, reaching to pull a condom out of his pocket. “Remind me about the birth control thing tomorrow.”
You watched as he undid his trousers and put the condom on. The moment it was on, Bucky pulled you in for a kiss again. He helped you as you lifted up and then slowly lowered yourself down on his hard cock.
You couldn’t look away as he held your stare. You both gasped and moaned as you finally sank down on him. Your body resisted just a little to fit him inside at first. Bucky felt it too, and an arrogant smirk formed on his face as he grabbed your hips in place and gently thrust his hips up, filling you up.
You moaned out loud as he did. “Fuck, you feel good, little thief.” He whispered.
Once he was buried deep inside you, you leaned in to kiss him again while lifting your lower body just the slightest, before sliding back down on his cock, you whimpered as he groaned, filling you up and being all snug inside of you.
“Oh fuck,” He swore again, “You feel so tight around daddy’s cock.”
The tip of his cock reached places you never knew existed. You whimpered, whining in pleasure as you took a good look at the man beneath you. He oozed power, manspreading on the couch with you on his cock.
You moved faster then, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. His hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily. Grunting and moaning under his breath as you sped up even more, riding his cock and making him lose his damned mind.
“You have such a perfect little cunt…” He said, “It’s all mine now.”
You were whimpering and whining yourself as you took more and more of him. But you couldn’t help but tease him, “And here I thought mixing business with pleasure was a bad thing.”
Bucky playfully slapped your thigh. “I make the rules here. From now on, mixing business with pleasure is a very good idea.”
You leaned down to kiss him, biting down and tugging at his bottom lip while you sped up, and his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up. “Fuck,” You whined.
His hand circled around your waist and he pulled your warm body closer to his. He was still very much clothed, except for his cock being out and buried inside you. Meanwhile your PJs were on the floor, leaving you completely naked on his lap. Something about that contrast made it even hotter.
“Beg.” He said, “I want to hear you beg me to let you come.”
You bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his blue eyes.
“Please daddy,” You whimpered, “Please, can I come?”
Bucky held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. “Hold on, just a little,” He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “Just a little,” He whispered, “Wait for me.”
“Please… I can’t,” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone. You panted and leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath.
Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, filling you up as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to him.
“I’m sorry,” You said as you caught your breath. “I’ll wait next time.”
Bucky laughed. “It’s alright. You were still such a good girl for daddy.” He murmured.
—
That night changed everything.
Ever since, each time you annoyed Bucky he would just fuck you against the nearest surface. Safe to say you began to annoy him even more.
But he could also be kind sometimes. For instance this one time when he found you in the library:
You were lounging on a sofa, reading when he walked in silently.
“Winter’s tale?” He surprised you with both his literary knowledge and presence.
You peaked at him from behind your book and said, “Leontes is such a cunt. Quite like you sometimes.”
Bucky ended up fucking you right there on the sofa. And then promised to get you your own bookshelf in the library because he didn’t like the way you stuffed your books among his on the current shelves. It’s messy and immature, he said. Grown ups don’t keep their books like this, he said.
Bucky could also be so confusing at times. Like how he would always treat you like the thing between the two of you was just a casual fling. But then he would get jealous whenever he saw you getting too close to any one of his guys while you trained with them.
“I will be overseeing your training from now on. No need to join the guys in the morning.” He said out of nowhere when you joined him for dinner in the dining room one night.
“Why?” You asked.
“Because you distract them too much with your shenanigans. Constant flirting, walking around in your little workout outfits, all that needs to stop.” He spoke, avoiding your eyes.
You smirked. “So we’re gonna be early morning workout buddies from now on?”
He sighed, “Don’t make me regret this.”
You chuckled, “Oh you will regret this.”
He did. But in the best ways. So each morning workout either started or ended with a nice fuck sesh.
—
You were at your workstation one morning when Bucky walked in with a serious look on his face.
You’d just seen him a couple of hours ago for your ‘workout’ so you wondered why he was back. Usually he left you alone for most of the day, only finding his way back to your bed late at night. So this was unusual.
“What’s going on? Why do you look like you want to murder someone?” You asked as he stood right in front of you with an earpiece in hand.
“Put this on.” He said.
You did as he asked. And waited.
Bucky grabbed his phone, walking to one of the nearest screens and a few taps later, you were looking at the live feed of some kind of body cam.
“What’s this?” You asked. Just then, you began hearing muffled voices coming from the earpiece.
Bucky turned to you. “My guys are… retrieving something of mine from a secret location. I need you to guide them.”
Your eyes widened. “Wait, is this it? Is this the thing you needed me for?”
Bucky’s face gave away nothing. “Just do as you’re told.”
You nodded, quickly looking back at the screen. “Who’s leading them?” You asked.
Someone’s muffled voice replied from the earpiece. “Thor is.”
You nodded, looking at the screen. “Right. How could I miss those biceps that are bigger than my head?” You said.
Bucky smacked you on the butt and said, “Focus.”
“I am, I am. I got this.”
Anf for the next few minutes, you led the men through whatever maze of a building they were in. You found the location within seconds and managed to have a blueprint of the place. You warned them of the cameras, told them when to move and when not to. You instructed Thor how to pick an ancient looking lock that led them into an even bigger maze. But you did everything right, used the right strategies, the right tricks up your sleeves, and you managed to get the guys out of there safely, with the mystery package they stole.
Once they were out in the clear and confirmed that they were on their way home, you turned to Bucky and asked, “How did I do?” You waited eagerly for his response.
Bucky just smirked and said, “Good. You passed the test.”
Your smile faded fast. “What? What test?”
Bucky explained, “The guys weren’t actually out stealing shit. I just wanted to see how you would do in a situation like that. And you did great. Congratulations, little thief.”
He turned to walk away but you called out. “You know, I deserve a nice gift for being so amazing.”
“Do you now?” He asked, not turning around.
“Yes, I want a dog!”
Bucky paused at the door. “No.” He said and left.
“Please, daddy…” You pouted.
“No.”
Oh well, it was worth a try.
—
The next morning, you woke up and got ready for yet another day of annoying Bucky. However, when you stepped out of your bedroom door, you noticed something outside your door.
It was a basket. And inside it slept two puppies, two of the fluffiest little balls of fur you’d ever seen. Once the shock passed, you began tearing up immediately.
You picked up the basket as slowly as you could and made your way to Bucky’s bedroom. You walked in without knocking. And there he was, standing in the middle of the room, getting ready for the day, buttoning his black shirt, casually looking like a god. Once he saw you, his playful smirk showed itself.
“So, how do you like-,” He stopped talking the moment the first tear fell down your cheek. His smirk disappeared. “What is it?” He asked.
You carefully placed the basket down, the puppies inside it sleeping soundly. Then you rushed to Bucky, wrapping your arms around him tightly.
Bucky hugged you back instantly, though confused concerning your reaction. Out of all things, he didn’t expect this. “Hey, what’s going on?” He asked, softly.
You sniffled, hiding your face in his chest. “I was thirteen when I ran from my uncle and aunt’s house.” You said, voice muffled. “And they had dogs so I grew up with them. But when I took off to be on my own, I couldn’t have a dog because I could barely take care of myself.” You sniffled again. “And it’s hard being without animals when you grew up around them, you know?” You let more tears wet his shirt. “Thank you,” You said, finally.
Bucky held you as your shoulders shook with your sobs. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple and whispered, “Oh baby, I’ve got you now.”
You pulled away to look at him, both of you ignoring the patch of wetness your tears left on his grey shirt. “You got me two puppies.”
Bucky smiled down at you. “You deserve it.”
You sniffled, “You’re being nice, what do you want?”
“Nothing,” He rolled his eyes, “Now get out of here.”
You stayed put. “I can’t. I have to make it even.”
“Yeah?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you. “How?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, let me suck your-,”
He cut you off by pulling you closer, a hand wrapped around your throat already. “You are very tempting right now, in your little red dress. And if you don’t want want me to tear it off right this instant, I’d suggest you-,”
You cut him off this time, “Who said I don’t want you to tear it off?” You asked with a smirk.
Bucky sighed before pushing you down on his bed. “I’ve got a busy day ahead.” He said, looking down at you as he hovered above you, “But you don’t care about that, do you?”
You giggled, shaking your head. “Not one bit.” You said, running your hands over his chest and his strong shoulders.
He smirked, giving in. He leaned in for a brief kiss while he pulled your dress up and placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs, settling in between them.
Your heart raced in anticipation. His hand slowly dragged your thin underwear down your legs and threw it around somewhere behind him as he inched his face closer to your already dripping core.
“Such a fucking brat.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, making you giggle and moan quietly under your breath.
“Shut up, admit it. You’re obsessed with me.” You sassed, then moaned out loud when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your clit. You felt a familiar rush in your veins. Fuck he was addicting.
Your hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair, tugging on it as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning more moans out of you as your back arched off the bed. His bed, you realised. This was the first time you two were fooling around in his room.
Only now did you realise how it smelt like him. Dark, male, addicting. But most of all, dangerous. Fuck, just his scent made your head all foggy in lust.
Bucky had you squirming, moaning, a complete mess under him in no time. “I love seeing you like this,” He said, kissing your inner thighs, “Too busy moaning for me to run that smart mouth.”
You couldn’t answer as your legs trembled around his head, he locked his arms around your thighs and pushed his tongue deeper into you, making you cry out of pleasure.
“See what I mean?” He chuckled, “I bet you want to say something sassy so bad right now, but you can’t.” He playfully bit you before sucking on your clit. “Daddy’s tongue has you all tongue-tied, huh princess?”
You cried out. “Please… please daddy,” You whined.
With a proud smirk, a look of determination in his pretty blue eyes, and a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you gushing out all over his tongue, lapping up all that you gave him. While you moaned and squirmed on his bed as he sucked on your sensitive clit until you calmed down.
You kept your eyes shut as you caught your breath, feeling him leave small kisses all over your thighs.
When you opened your eyes again, his face was right above yours. His devious blue eyes looking down into your wide open ones. You were certain all he saw in your eyes was hunger. For him.
“I want you,” You whispered, sliding your hands into his hair. “Now.” You demanded.
“Brat.” He hissed when you tugged on his hair.
You smiled. “Pretty sure it’s princess.” You teased.
“A bratty fucking princess then.” He didn’t give you a chance to sass back as he leaned in for a deep kiss, holding himself up with one hand as he quickly undid his trousers. You helped, pulling his cock out and stroking it. Bucky moaned into the kiss as you did, and the sound of it sent shivers down your back.
You gasped, and whined into the kiss as he carefully slid into you, filling you up entirely, inch by inch. Stretching you out deliciously like he did all the time. Bucky wasted no time, he pulled out and pushed back into you, making you moan into the kiss each time until the makeout turned lazy and messy, filled with gasps and moans.
You noticed he wasn’t being as ravenous as usual. He was… trying to be gentle with you.
Indeed he was. Your heart skipped a beat when Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head as he sped up just a little into you. He was groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly, and you were unable to focus on anything other than him.
His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name out loud.
“That’s it, princess.” He whispered against your open mouth, “Tell me who’s making you feel this good. Who’s fucking you, huh?”
You kept whimpering his name over and over again as he fucked you nice and slow, kissing his way down your face, from your collar bones to down your chest. And you cried out when he took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.
You opened your eyes as he pulled away to look down at you, his lips soft and pink and parted as he breathed rapidly, fucking into you a bit faster.
Something shifted in that moment, you weren’t sure what. But something changed.
His brows furrowed as he tried so hard to hold back and make you come before he did. “Fuck,” He swore. “Come for me.” He smirked and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for daddy, princess.”
You felt the pressure building in between your hips as he sped up even more, his metal hand reached down and grabbed your hip gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other.
Bucky pushed his face into you and nuzzled your neck as he growled in pleasure. With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone, moaning and whimpering under him, grinding against him hungrily while he came right after, filling you up again.
He stayed there, limp on top of you for a brief moment, before he slid off of you and laid down beside you. He caught his breath while you blinked rapidly, trying to calm your racing heart and figure out what the hell just happened.
Before the awkward silence settled in completely, you got up on shaky legs and fixed your dress. “Well, this has been fun. I gotta go feed my new kids now. See you later.” You grabbed the puppy basket and almost ran out of his bedroom.
As you shut the door, you heard him laughing to himself. A boyish, carefree laugh that made you smile.
—
With your new dogs, training, your lab, more training, days flew by.
Whatever Bucky had planned, whatever big heist you were supposed to carry out, you knew it was coming soon.
You often wondered what would happen once you successfully stole whatever he intended for you to steal. You didn’t even know what it was yet. Must be something precious either way, if all this planning went into it. But what after that? Would you no longer work for Bucky then?
Would this… whatever it was between the two of you that both of you absolutely refused to acknowledge – no matter how much Sam teased you both for it – would it all end?
You were lost in thoughts of all this when you found yourself mindlessly making your way to Bucky’s office one evening. Your two dogs, loyally in tow.
You found Bucky in an equally sour mood as you, sulking at his desk with a drink.
You shut the door behind you, leaving the dogs outside as you made your way to Bucky. He looked up at you and silently patted his lap. You made yourself comfortable on his thighs, an arm around his neck as you leaned in and nuzzled his cheek. His stubble rough against your nose and cheek.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, “What has you looking like an evil god plotting the end of mere mortals who are standing in the way of you dominating the world?”
He chuckled at that. “You are so annoying you should be grateful at least you’re pretty to look at.” He mumbled, taking a sip of whatever was in his glass. You assumed it was whiskey.
You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. But then you noticed that distant look in his eyes. Unfortunately, you were very good at reading people. You leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.
“What is it?”
He let out a sigh. “You never ask me what I’m keeping you around for.”
You shrugged. “You said you’d tell me when it’d be the right time. I’m just waiting, I guess. You told me about Rogers and his men and how they stole something from you. The details aren’t necessary, whatever it is, I’ll get it back. I promise.”
Bucky placed his glass down and turned to look at you. His metal arm held you securely on his lap. “It’s my mother’s ring.” He said. “The ring has been in our family for generations. All the men propose to their women with it.” He paused, then added, “I have nothing left of hers. Just the ring.”
Damn. Well. You would have never guessed that. A family heirloom? Why would Rogers tell his men to steal that? How would he even know to steal that?
You began to ask just that. “How did-,”
Bucky answered before you could even finish your question. “Steve, Sam, and I used to be friends. I always thought we’d be friends till the very end. But then Steve went rogue, power got to his head.”
Shit. No wonder Bucky and Sam were so close, they survived the downfall of a strong trio.
“I’m sorry.” You murmured, gently stroking his cheek. “I’ve never had close friends like that, I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose them. But I can tell it makes you really upset.” You pointed out. Then you took a deep breath and said, “I’ll get your mom’s ring back. And I will even kick Steve for you if you ask me to.”
Bucky gave you a faint smile.
“Just get the ring back.” He said, staring deep into your eyes. “I need it.”
Oh? The thought of him on one knee, asking someone to marry him was surprisingly uncomfortable. But you pushed all that aside.
“So when do I go?”
—
Another week later, the plan was ready. Bucky’s men were ready. You were ready.
You had the location, had studied the blueprint very well. You’d be in contact with Bucky the whole time through the earpiece. Steve was rumoured to be out of town. His guards would not be expecting the heist. This was perfect.
Or so you thought. The moment you got near Steve’s house, a gut feeling told you something was off. And you must’ve mumbled something to yourself because Bucky’s voice came through the earpiece just then.
“I’ll say it again. The moment you sense something wrong, fall back. Do you hear me?” He used the cold, bossy tone.
You scoffed and replied, “Yes daddy.”
A few of the guys chuckled around you. And you could hear Bucky sighing as you giggled to yourself.
You noticed the guards getting ready to move, the typical security rotation. You looked behind you and whispered to the guys, “We have exactly twelve seconds to make it past the gates. Don’t be too loud, and follow me. If you can’t make it, stay back here and keep watch. Everyone understood?”
They all nodded silently.
“Okay… now!”
Not all of the guys could make it. Some had to stay back because the twelve-second window was too short for everyone to beeline through the gates.
But the group of you that made it past the gates and into Steve’s house were in for a big surprise. It was a trap, Steve wasn’t home but his people had been waiting for you.
What was meant to be a clean heist ended up in a crossfire.
You could hear Bucky barking orders through the earpiece. “Fall back! Now!”
You almost did… but fuck you were so close. So close. That was when you took the earpiece off and tucked it into the pocket of your cargo pants. He may have been right, but the adrenaline was too much to resist. You’d missed this feeling, this rush of being so close to danger, to being caught…
So you went for it.
Walked deeper into the trap.
You knew where the ring was kept, you had the little box in your hand. You didn’t have time to see what it looked like as you put it away in your pocket, along with the earpiece that Bucky surely was still screaming through.
And then. The room exploded.
Then there was nothing. Just ringing in your eyes, and blurry images in front of you. You coughed, gasping for air and all you got were dust in your lungs.
You faintly remember hands reaching for you, dragging you, trying to get you to walk. But your body did not cooperate. It refused to.
You don’t know how much time passed. Or where you were.
You could hear the panic in his voice as you tried your hardest to reorient yourself. Bucky was here? You were lying on the floor somewhere. You couldn’t remember much.
The heist. The ring. A lot of fighting. An explosion.
Ah, an explosion that threw you across the room causing you to collide against a concrete wall.
Your side hurt, badly. Your head throbbed. Your vision was blurry, but at least Bucky was here. He was here, you could hear his rapid footsteps approaching.
“Baby….” His voice sounded distant. “Baby, open your eyes. Please.” He had never sounded so vulnerable. Due to the way your body moved, you assumed you were in a rapidly moving vehicle. “Look at me,” You felt his hands on your face, “Princess, please…” You couldn’t focus too well on what he was saying, “... sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… baby, please…”
Then there was just darkness.
And pain.
And a headache that refused to go away.
But you were with Bucky so you gave into the darkness. You knew you were safe now that he was here.
—
When you woke up, you realised you were in Bucky’s room. On his bed. The headache was still here, not as bad as before though.
The room was dimly lit, so you figured it must be well into the evening. The house was quiet, but as you tried to sit up, you heard him.
“Thought you were gonna sleep for two more days.”
You couldn’t help the smirk. “I slept for two whole days?” Then you panicked, looking around, “Where are my dogs?”
“Safe, fed. Sleeping.” Bucky stepped out of the dark corner of the room, but didn’t come any closer. He was quiet for a few moments. Then, “You almost got killed.” He stated, looking like he hadn’t slept in days but no less handsome.
You scoffed. “As if that’s all it would take to kill me. You know, I once fell from two storeys and survived with just a twisted ankle. I’m amazing like that,” You winked at him. “Besides, I did a good job. I managed to get your precious ring,” You went to pat your pocket, only to realise that you were no longer wearing those cargo pants.
Of course, he wouldn’t have left you in those same clothes for two days while you recovered. You looked down under the blanket and you were wearing clean clothes. His clothes. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. The t-shirt smelled like him.
“Looking for this?” He held his hand up and there it was. Prettiest piece of jewellery you’d ever laid eyes on. You could see the big, heavy stone from here. Dark green, black, silver. It looked elegant, and like it was crafted in some fae realm. It was truly unique.
“You changed me.” You pointed out, looking down at the clean clothes.
He gave you the same poker face. “What does it matter? I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count.” He said.
“And you made me wear your clothes.” You gave him a bratty, triumphant look.
He glared at you. “I’m sure my clothes feel more comfortable than those tight little dresses you wear all the time.”
You gasped dramatically, “You mean those tight little dresses you fuck me in all the time?”
That had him walking towards his bed immediately. “Don’t fucking tease me. Not right now, you’re hurt.”
“Aww,” You teased, “You care about me.”
Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. “I guess I do.” He said, reaching out to touch your face carefully.
You couldn’t look away from him. He was so gorgeous. Even in poorly lit rooms with his face half hidden in shadows, he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen.
He smirked when he noticed you checking him out, “I know I’m pretty, stop drooling.”
You scoffed, shoving on the shoulder. The muscular bastard of course didn’t even move an inch.
“I’m gonna go bring you some food.” He said, taking your hand in his metal one. “You’ve been unconscious for days, you need the energy.” He slid the ring on your ring finger so casually it took you a few moments to realise what he’d just done.
Only when he got up to walk away did reality hit you. Hard. “Wait, what the fuck?” You held your hand up, “What does this mean?”
Bucky gave you a shrug, “Get used to it.”
“Bucky!”
“What?”
You blinked, mouth open, your body frozen in shock. “Did you just… are you for real? I thought the plan was to get the ring back so you could display it in your office and admire it like the deranged villain you try so hard to be.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Change of plans.”
You lowered your eyes, tracing a finger over the big stone on the gothic looking ring. “You can’t marry a thief.”
Bucky sat back down again, taking your chin between his fingers. “Why not? You stole something very precious the day you broke into my home, and this is your punishment now. A life sentence, if you will.”
“What did I steal?”
“My heart.”
You groaned at his cheesiness, leaning in and hiding your face into the crook of his neck. “You bastard.”
Bucky chuckled. “I love you too.”
You were quiet for a moment, breathing in his scent. It grounded you. But then you pulled away and asked, “What about Steve?”
“I’ll deal with him.” Bucky answered, sounding grave and cold. “He hurt my princess,” He said, pulling you closer so much that you were almost on his lap, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”
You giggled, “Well technically he hurt your princess because she broke into his house to steal. Honestly, he had every right to hurt your princess.” You argued.
Bucky smirked, “So you agree? That you’re my princess?”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Technically I’m your fiancé but I don’t really care about labels so yeah, I’ll be your princess or whatever.”
He laughed, “Oh you don’t get to be nonchalant about this. I’ll throw a big party, invite the whole city if I want to. And you’re gonna be the centre of attention the whole night, parading around in a pretty dress of my choice, showing off your ring, and telling people how much you’re in love with me.”
You groaned again. “You are insufferable.”
“I love you too, princess.” He repeated, kissing your forehead.
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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥
𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤
📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first.
📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard
📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words
📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader
📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot
📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!
want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!
thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)
cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss
have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!
carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.
shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.
the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.
regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.
the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously.
carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.
you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.
he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.
he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.
and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea.
little red riding hood.
it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well.
piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.
you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is.
you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch.
his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically.
“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.
you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”
carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.
after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along.
after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.
“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”
you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes.
he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs.
“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”
you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”
carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard.
carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”
“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”
you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.
“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”
carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”
“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”
carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.
your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location.
you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.
the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.
he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.
it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him.
he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.
you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late.
you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.
carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.
carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head.
you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide.
he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.
carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape.
he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.
“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists, to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs.
you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.
“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”
carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”
you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.
carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.
carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed.
his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.
carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it.
his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval.
your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”
carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.
carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him.
he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you.
carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.
moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling.
you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.
he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.
carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear.
rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.
all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”
carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.
carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.
your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.
carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”
abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg.
“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”
carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum.
carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted.
carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.
your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can.
you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”
carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”
your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”
carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“
“carlos!”
“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“
“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”
he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.
“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”
you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.
the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight.
“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”
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#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz jr x black!reader#carlos sainz jr x you#carlos sainz jr x y/n#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz jr imagine#carlos sainz jr smut#carlos sainz jr fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x black!reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x black!reader#f1 smut#f1 fluff#formula 1 smut#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 au#werewolf au#f1 kinktober#kinktober#kinktober 2023#httpss :// kinktober 23#serene’s chapters.#⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1#♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: cs.#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader
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why i write in obsidian.md (and why you should try it!)
hey, hi, have I mentioned my notes app? let me tell you about my notes app! I’ve been writing in obsidian for over a year now, for fanfic and original fiction/worldbuilding (and dungeons and dragons, and life organisation, and a myriad of other things) and so far I’ve gotten at least three people to also start using it, and I am in fact on an endless quest to get more people to try it.
obsidian.md how do i love thee, let me list the ways:
It’s offline. you are not beholden to the whims of wifi!
Did i mention it’s free? it’s free!
you can pay to support the devs, or to access the sync service, but honestly I just use a free file sync service to move things between my desktop/laptop.
It’s super lightweight at its core. you can (and I do) run it with a bunch of plugins and customisation, but at it’s base it’s just text, in simple files. plaintext. readable by anything. your writing is not trapped in proprietary file formats.
HOWEVER you can in fact customise every aspect of it and if you like Making Your Notes Cute I cannot recommend it enough as a Way To Procrastinate Actually Writing
Crucially, you can link your notes. This is phenomenal for not only worldbuilding, but planning, research, outlining and connecting characters and events. You just make a note, type in square brackets, and boom. linked notes. You can make yourself a little writing wikipedia with approximately 0 effort.
I have separate vaults (Instances, pretty much. Big overarching folders with separate sets of content) for my Valloroth project, my day-to-day notes/fanfic, and my D&D game. They’re aesthetically very different, which is so so so great for getting in the right headspace for the work I’m doing.
OH and we have obsidian canvas now! which is a simple mind-mapping feature where you can make and connect note cards, which can also be notes in your vault. I haven’t had a chance to do timelines with it yet, but it’ll be fun for that. I have made relationship charts with it, and it was great for that. If you like visually laying out boxes of information and connecting them into a pepe silvia board of plot, canvas is incredible
this is a pointcrawl map I made for my D&D game. Those red words in the boxes? links to the locations in the city the players were exploring. phenomenal
do you like split screen? you can have multiple notes open at once in horizontal and vertical configurations, and you can also open multiple tabs in each split window. it’s SO great for research and outlining, when you need like ten documents open at once to move between
finally, there are so many addons to COMPLETELY CUSTOMISE your Writing Setup. styling for tags. kanban boards. LINKABLE MAPS. ways to label scenes with metadata and pull just so many different tables/lists of story information. AND SO MANY MORE. I’m gonna do a whole post of my favourite writing plugins at some point so i can yell about them
the only downsides are that it’s somewhat clunky still to export things out of obsidian—I copy my fics into googledocs for my beta, and I have a plugin to make exporting to html easier to post on ao3, but it’s still kinda fiddly. Also, if you want a program that Has Everything and Just Works, this is…not that. you can build a lot of really useful writing specific features, but you do have to build them. it’s a sandbox, so if you don’t like sandbox-style programs, this may not work for you.
that being said, I do think everyone should try it and play with it and love it like I do and convince all their friends to start using it like i did. come play with obsidian with me! it’s fun! there’s a great community in the official discord that’s very active, plus an ever-growing collection of resources, particularly on youtube (highly reccommend Danny Hatcher’s videos as a jumping in point, they’re super accessible imo)
anyway, come try obsidian!
#obsidian md#obsidian.md#writeblr#writing program#writing#writing process#notes app#space has thoughts#writing apps#writing tools#writer things#writing setup#this whole blog has just been a long con to get more people to download obsidian#notes app (beloved)
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— Rosa Pastel (2)
pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ after four months of having broken up with miles an event leads you right back into his arms.
warnings ✧˖ ° gaslighting, manipulation, toxic relationship, threatening, unwanted flirting, miles is a major red flag, violence, mentioned murder, stalking.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ princesa: princess, mi angelito: my little angel, bonito: handsome/pretty boy, los mataré, entiendes?: i'll kill them, understand?
a/n . . ◟੭ here’s part one! heyy, loves! i’m sorry for the long wait, i have been busy writing other fics and with real life things!
four months.
it has been four months since you left miles and you couldn't feel anymore miserable, your entire world had revolved around him and it was like it stopped the motion the moment you broke up with him.
he hadn't tried anything to approach you or even contact you, part of it made you mad but the other part was relieved because you didn't know what you would do if miles tried to explain himself again while you were still vulnerable.
you have tried to go on multiple dates since then, but they turned out really badly since either the person was the rudest one you have ever met or stood you up. you were tired of that, what was wrong with this people? asking someone on a date just to treat them like shit, then never trying to speak with you again or not show at all.
now you were getting ready for a party, almost done with your look. you had spent most of the time stressing out on what to wear because you wanted attention but not that much attention so you had to figure out something fast.
after deciding which dress to wear you did your makeup and hair, before putting on some short heeled stilettos to finish off the look. you sighed looking at the mirror, maybe today you could forget about him for a while and focus on having fun for once.
grabbing your purse and double checking that everything you needed was inside of it, you left your house. breathing in the fresh air, you started walking to the convenience store, wanting to buy something before calling an uber.
however your plans changed when you noticed a group of men standing there drinking, smoking and looking crazy. you turned, deciding to just make your way back home and call the uber. the streets were dangerous ever since captain morales died and you didn't want to fall victim to any of this men.
"hey, sweetheart! where you going?" one of them noticed you and called out.
you cursed under your breath, squeezing your eyes together and walking faster.
"now, why are you walking so fast? huh?" the same one that had talked before had ran towards you and caught your arm in his grasp.
"please, leave me alone." now you were scared.
"and why would i do that?" he eyed you from head to toe. "aren't you a doll, wanna go back to my place?"
it sounded like a question but you knew that it wasn't. "listen, i just wanna go home."
"i can go home with you too." he laughed and the others, who you didn't notice had gotten closer, started laughing too.
five grown men surrounding you. this night couldn't get any worse. the one holding you took out a pocket knife and ran it across your face.
"let go of me!" you said, trying to keep it together and not show any fear.
"i don't think so." the man shook his head with a sick grin on his face, lifting the knife from your face and shaking it as well. "now—"
there was a loud slashing sound and suddenly the man was on the floor, blood pooling around him, four deep slashes across his back.
you knew who it was from and you didn't hesitate to run, it was hard on heels but you made it home, locking the door behind you and putting a hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs.
miles had just killed someone. right in front of you, he just killed him. you slid down the door, your hand still covering your mouth as tears fell down from your eyes.
"don't cry, mami." the voice scared you but you had no energy to jump at the sound or to start yelling at him for what he did. "that man ain't worth it."
"just leave me alone, please..." you managed to say.
"what if someone tries to break in?" miles asked, kneeling in front of you. "what if you get harassed again? won't you want me there for you? to protect you?"
you finally looked over at him, a claw was laying beside him, covered in blood and his suit had some fresh blood on it.
"you killed them all?" you asked.
"of course i did," he nodded with a sweet smile, making him appear so innocent. "one laid his hands on you while the others just watched. they all deserved what they got."
"you killed them."
"yes, and i would do it again to protect you."
"miles, you killed." you took a shaky breath. "because of me."
"no, princesa." he shook his head. "i killed for you. there is a difference."
"what difference?" you asked angrily. "it's all the same. for me, because of me. it's my fault they died."
"no, it's their fault for messing with what's mine." miles corrected. "i was just protecting you, princesa. if i had let them live they could have attacked you again or another person."
you thought about this, he was right. "they could've attacked another person." you repeated and nodded. "you're right."
"of course, i'm right." miles smirked, knowing that he was breaking through. "i always make sure you're okay, even checking in on the guys you set up your little dates with."
"what?" you asked confused.
"well, some of them weren't nice to my princesa so i had to take care of that. and others didn't deserve a date with you." he shrugged.
"but you only did that to protect me, right?"
"of course, mi angelito." he nodded.
"everything that you have done was for that too?"
"yes," miles nodded, encouraging your thoughts of you needing him. "so will you take me back?"
"yeah," you nodded, wiping your tear stained cheeks with a smile.
"good," miles nodded and grabbed your chin with the same hand he used to kill, pulling you in to leave a peck on your lips. "you are never going to leave me again, understand?"
you nodded.
"i asked if you understand?" he said more forcefully.
"yes, bonito." you answered verbally this time.
miles smirked. "good."
he pulled you back in for a real kiss this time, his mouth coming in contact with yours into a blissful kiss. his tongue pushed its way inside your mouth, fighting yours and winning, exploring every inch of the place he missed so much.
"don't ever think about going out with other men again." miles said between kisses. "los mataré, entiendes?"
"yes." you nodded and pulled him back in to kiss him.
you just missed him so much. why were you so stupid to leave him in the first place? all he wanted was to protect you.
taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @banqnaz @yourlocalstranger123 @weirdomcu @ilovemiguelohara28 @tlatziuh @edgyficuselastica @hoseokslefteyebrow (i added the people who were interested in a part two)
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales x reader#42 miles morales#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles morales#prowler miles x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#earth 42#earth 42 miles morales x you#42 miles morales x reader#atsv#atsv miles#miles morales#miles morales prowler
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Take It!
✭ Playlist! ✭
Summary:
Choi Beomgyu was rich, spoiled, and couldn’t take no for an answer. Kang Taehyun, however, was the exact opposite. So, what’s one to do when both take an interest in you? It seems like you’ve become the new subject of their rivalry, and neither will accept a loss.
chaebol!Beomgyu,chaebol!Taehyun! x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, angst(questionable), smut
word count: 22K
warnings: mc wears glasses, beomgyu is fucking mean, mc is shy/ easily flustered, constant teasing, and cockblocking, bg thinking with his dick half the time, mc is a coward, mentions food/alcohol
smut warnings: dub-con (in one scene), exhibitionism, fingering, bg is a perv, a ton of kissing, soft dom!tae, hard dom!gyu, sub!mc, threesome, oral, (f&m receiving) handjobs, raw sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, degradation, praise, mouth fucking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, dumbification, creampie(s), sloppy seconds, overstimulation, marking, aftercare
(lemme know if I should add anything !)
Notes: i don’t know why I’m doubting this fic so much— but the thought of rich taegyu literally plagued my mind.. this was originally supposed to be really short, then I found myself staying up late to write more scenes. Anyways, feedback is always appreciated, I hope you guys enjoy !! <3
In your campus, three mysteries swarmed the minds of those who attended.
One— what was in the library’s closed off area that made it so heavily protected? Two— did the economics and the psychology professor really hook up due to one’s messy divorce?
And lastly, what were Beomgyu’s true intentions with you?
Beomgyu was a young chaebol who was currently studying in preparation to take over his father’s company one day; the said company being shared with his longtime best friend. While he may have insisted that he couldn’t care less about taking over for his father, but the fiery glint in his eyes that appeared at the mention of the other potential candidate said otherwise.
He was young, attractive, born into wealth, and had his whole life planned ahead of him; he was the whole package. So, naturally, Beomgyu often found himself in the spotlight, whether that be because of new rumors that spread, or because of something outrageous he had done.
Which is exactly why he wasn’t fazed when people started calling you Beomgyu’s new plaything.
“Come over tonight,” Beomgyu said, voice monotone, bored even, as he wrote down notes from a website that you showed him earlier.
You looked up, eyes wide as you looked around frantically, already spotting a few of Beomgyu’s fans gossiping amongst themselves, just a few tables away from where you sat. He watched you, eyes scanning as you flushed with embarrassment at his request, pushing back your glasses as you tried to hide the way his words clearly affected you.
It was so interesting, the strange arrangement you two had— granted, it was simply because of a project that you were stuck doing together, but it still managed to pique the interest of Beomgyu’s potential suitors once they realized that Beomgyu hadn’t simply divided the work in half and left you on your own.
You were— well, you. So quiet and reserved that sometimes, some classes would forget that you were there at all. You kept to yourself yet were so sweet and went out of your way to help others— you had the reputation of an angel.
And Beomgyu, he couldn’t be farther away from that image even if he tried. He was reckless, always found at parties with a new eye-candy hanging from his arm, despite the warnings and scoldings of his father to not ruin his reputation. He was ruthless and apathetic, never making any deep connections no matter how hard others tried, and he wasn’t exactly above paying others to get his way either.
So, it couldn’t have been more shocking to others once they realized that Beomgyu was hanging around you more than usual— much to your dismay.
Because as you would make your way to classes, there would be times when you would run into Beomgyu— and he would greet you. The unnecessary attention was driving you mad. You weren’t oblivious to the whispers that would follow your every interaction; he’s using her, they’re probably only doing this to get his fangirls off his back, they’re probably hooking up.
Those particular rumors would never fail to make your heart stop with stress for a second. Hooking up? With Beomgyu? Never! You barely had time to yourself anymore, and any type of messy relationship like that would only get in the way of your studies. And the last thing you needed was to slip up, leaving you to say goodbye to the very scholarship that landed you a spot in the university in the first place.
You knew you were being a prude; mostly because your friends always told you. Wow, you seriously haven’t found anyone? When was the last time you got laid? They would tease you endlessly for your absolute lack of experience in anything, blaming your lack of game for the cause of not having any prior experiences of past relationships to lean back on.
“No, middle school relationships don’t count. You guys couldn’t even hold hands without breaking into a sweat— and we don’t talk about your first kiss,” Chaeyoung would say, her teasing absolutely ruthless even as you begged her to stop. Taehyung would only laugh along, acting as though the ten years of friendship under your belts meant nothing to him.
“What? Why?” You said, voice brisk as you snapped out of your trailing thoughts, eyes lowering back to your laptop screen as you realized Beomgyu had been waiting for a response, eyes sharp and narrowed as he stared you down.
“The project,” he drawled out, as though you weren’t capable of following along. Honestly, it’s more of a mystery to you as to why people think the two of you might be something; have they not seen the way he talks down to you?
Inhaling slowly, you close your eyes for a moment, biting at your lip to keep yourself from saying anything— you don’t want to start anything at the library, you already learned your lesson the last time you tried to snap back a witty remark.
“I won’t have time to meet at all next week, so I want to get as much work over with now,” he explained, uncaring of the way his voice was a little too loud for a library. But you secretly appreciated it nevertheless, knowing that the table a few ways from yours was tuned into his every word.
“You won’t? Why not?” You really couldn’t help the way you prodded into his life, but, as your friends always say, “the worst thing about you is that you never realize when you’re being nosy.”
And, as expected, he gave you a sharp look, your curiosity withering as you realized you were probably overstepping some kind of line with him once more. Ducking your head behind the safety of your laptop screen, you clear your throat awkwardly, attempting to find something to write down in order to distract yourself from his eyes that were seemingly locked on you like a target.
“Be there by five pm. Don’t keep me waiting, either.” He said, leaving you to gape at him as you looked up from your screen, only to see him standing, ready to leave as he spared you one last look.
“What— you can’t be serious—“ but no, he definitely was. At least, that’s what the look in his eyes said, shutting you up with ease as he turned around, leaving you without another word.
Choi Beomgyu himself could count as your university's fourth mystery.
☆♡☆
“I can’t believe you. You’re weak!” Taehyung said, disbelief spread across his face as he watched you pick out an outfit, laying on top of the piles of clothes that you had rejected. “But also, send me pictures of his house.”
Shaking your head, you threw aside the shirt you were debating, landing on Taehyung’s head and successfully cutting off his running imagination.
“Shut up, you know how he is,” you say weakly, turning around and grabbing the top that Taehyung suggested, “He’s so… I don’t know… persuasive?”
“Threatening,” he corrects, shaking his head at the outfit, rummaging through your closet as he looked for something else for you to wear, his voice muffled. “He has money, he has power, he can’t stand it when he doesn’t get his way.”
Turning around, he handed you his next choice, shoving it in your hands the moment you gave him a doubtful look.
“He’s insufferable, that’s what he is,” urging you to put the outfit on, he sat at the edge of your bed, already eyeing your shoe rack for options, “I hate the way he commands you around just because— because—“
“Just because he could buy our whole existence,” you sigh, adjusting the skirt that Taehyung decided to dress you in. It was a very feminine outfit, and you could already feel the anxiety building up at the thought of Beomgyu or his family (hell, even his maids— if he had any… who were you kidding, of course he did.) seeing you in such an outfit. Honestly, you had probably read the text he sent you about a million times now, his address memorized by now (regrettably) and the possibilities of “dress appropriately” already giving you the first three breakdowns of the day.
Dress appropriately? What do you mean? You had messaged him, albeit only because Taehyung had been sick of hearing you freak out and had been the one to force you to message him that.
Context clues. Was the only thing that he had replied.
You could have sworn that Taehyung was about to go with you to personally tear him a new one.
“I mean, true,” Taehyung said, frowning at your words, “But that doesn’t mean that he can still act like an entitled bitch.” Checking his phone for the time, he put the cute platform shoes that he had been eyeing the whole time in one hand, putting the jewelry and accessories that he had chosen in your other hand.
“Rich people,” he said condescendingly, patting your shoulders in reassurance as he led you to the entrance of your shared apartment.
“Rich people,” you agreed, slipping your shoes on before giving him a goodbye hug. “Clean my room for me?”
“Only if you tell me what cologne he uses.”
Scrunching up your face, you give him a judgemental look, only for him to shrug you off defensively.
“What? The guy knows his fragrances, alright?” He says, watching fondly as you laugh at his idiocy. “But I’ll also do it if you keep a lookout for any cute guys.”
Nodding, you slip on your jacket, opening the door, only to look back to him once more. “It’s a deal.”
Closing the door, you hear him yell one last “good luck!” The words sticking to you as you put down Beomgyu’s address into the GPS, only to gawk at the time it would take to get there.
Luck would definitely be needed.
☆♡☆
Aweing at the enormous gates before you, you realize that you could probably get away with asking for compensation on gas.
Because holy shit, why would anyone need this much space? Or rooms? And is there such a thing as too many windows? Because as you walk to the entrance after being permitted to come inside, the valet (valet!!) taking your car for you, you can’t help but be floored at the fact that you could practically see into their whole house.
What is it with rich people and light fixtures, you wonder, unable to take your eyes off from the ceiling that’s decorated with what could possibly be the world’s most intricate chandelier, unaware of the fact that you’re literally staring into their home right now— but hey, not your fault.
You wonder how their doorbell works. It was a bit of a ridiculous thought, but you couldn’t help but let your thoughts wonder on how a doorbell could possibly alert a house of this size of their guest. But thoughts such as those would be saved for another day, because as you continue to stare shamelessly into the entrance windows, you can see a figure coming down the stairs.
Must be Beomgyu, you think, shifting side to side as you become self conscious about your outfit once more, the cool fall air nipping at your skin as you wonder what he might show up in. Finally tearing your eyes away from their windows, you find yourself regressing as your eyes find themselves glued to the floor, much too nervous to be able to accept any cold comments from him at the moment.
“___? You’re here,” You watch the way the light from inside illuminates the rest of the porch, one of the double doors opening to reveal the owner of the voice. But as you look up, confused as to who it might be, you find yourself feeling more self conscious as the man before you stares at you questioningly.
Kang Taehyun, you realize with horror, is dressed in comfortable sweatpants and a loose white shirt, his blonde hair messy and unstyled, while you stand at the doorway dressed to impress. You’ve heard of the fact that the two families practically raised the two boys side by side, but you hadn’t expected to actually see him, much less in such a casual outfit.
How casual was this supposed to be?
“I’m… just here to work on a project with Beomgyu,” you explain, eyes downcast as you try to hide your embarrassment. Were you overdressed? Did he think you were trying too hard? What if he got the wrong idea about you and Beomgyu?
“Ah, right,” He said quietly, running a hand through his hair, a moment passing as you shuffled awkwardly outside. Eyes widening in realization, he steps aside, gesturing for you to come inside frantically.
“Come in, come in, you must be cold,” he says, ushering you inside before closing the door, locking out the cool wind that was picking up. Taking off your shoes, you accept the guest slippers he hands you gratefully— woah, are these brand new? “Can I get you anything? Something to drink, anything?”
You couldn’t help but smile at the difference in the behavior— Taehyun, you heard, wasn’t anything like your stereotypical, cruel and uncaring rich man— like Beomgyu. He always tried to keep a humble attitude, his kind and patient behavior just another reminder of their differences.
“No, I’m alright, thank yo—“
“Taehyun, if you’re done flirting with my guest, I’d like to get some work done.” You didn’t even need a second to think of who that could be, his cold voice and colder presence almost bringing down the room temperature by a couple degrees.
Turning to the huge stairway you had been observing from the outside, you couldn’t help but feel a slight relief as you watched Beomgyu come down in his usual, sleek attire, his cold eyes taking a moment to observe you.
“Interesting,” he mutters, stopping at the bottom of the staircase, raising a brow questioningly as a moment passes by, watching your tense behavior with amusement.
“Well? Are you coming?” You can’t help but flinch at the realization that you’ve been standing at the entrance awkwardly, and with one last smile sent to Taehyun, you follow him up the stairs, holding back a remark on how you couldn’t just prance around his home without his permission; unfortunately, you were his guest.
You almost feel as though Beomgyu is trying to get you lost on purpose, because as you follow him around the endless hallways and corridors, you can’t help but feel like this house is more of a maze. Eventually, you’re led into a room, left in confusion as you take it in.
“My study,” he says, as though having a personal study is a basic necessity. You look at him, and it’s almost as though he can hear your thoughts, taking one look at your face before he scoffs, amused almost, as he gestures for you to take a seat.
“What, did you expect to be taken to my bedroom?” He asks, voice low and teasing as he watches you become flustered once more, your reactions much too entertaining for him as he watches you fumble for your laptop. Shaking your head, you remain silent as you open up your shared document, ready to continue your research.
But you can’t help but shift uncomfortably as time passes, unable to get rid of the feeling of Beomgyu’s eyes on you from time to time. His stare is just so intense and obvious, and you can’t help but fret and wonder if he was staring at you in a good way or a bad way.
“___. Come here.” He says, eyes already on you as you startle, looking up at him to see what he wants. You hum, raising a brow expectantly as you wait for him to elaborate. But, as impatient as he is, he simply rolls his eyes, standing up abruptly as he rounds his desk over to you, planting his laptop beside yours as he shows you his screen.
“I found a good website that could help our research,” he says, towering over you as he scrolls slowly, showing you the contents of the page. Placing a hand on the back of your chair, you try to ignore the feeling of him completely encasing you. You also try to ignore the deep purr of his voice, his quiet words only making you feel more nervous— was this too intimate?
And damn, Taehyung was right— he smelled like heaven.
“___.” You’re snapped out of your wandering thoughts as you look up at Beomgyu, heart beating roughly against your chest as you take in the way his bangs fall over his eyes, long hair tied up in a half up half down, his eyes narrowed and looking down at you in a way that only made you even more anxious.
He leans down, and you can’t help but lean back against your chair, the feeling of his hand on your back only startling you further— being this close to Beomgyu was only making you short circuit. Averting your eyes, you tried to ignore how close his face was to yours, how, if you wanted to, you could probably lean in and connect your lips with his.
“You’re not listening,” he mumbles, watching as you continue to entertain him with the way you try to keep yourself together, shoulders curled up around you as you try to make yourself smaller, “Are you?”
“I am…!” You breathe out, flustered at the way he’s looking at you; it’s mocking, condescending almost, but wow… you simply can’t help but be drawn to him.
“You are?” He echoes, voice mockingly sweet as the hand that was pressed behind you slowly begins to move, traveling across your back, sending shivers down your body as it retracts over your shoulder, slowly making its way up until he’s got you in his hands, tilting your chin up softly, his face filled with amusement as you try to not die of embarrassment.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” he says, and damn, was it just you or was he getting closer? Or, were you getting closer?
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were thinking about someone else,” he whispers, voice so soft that if you hadn’t been hooked onto his every word, you would have missed it. It was too much, his breath fanning against your face, the deep rise and fall of your bodies, the way that if he got any closer, you would finally be able to get a taste of him.
You fall silent, unsure of what to do. What if he was messing with you? The thought occurred to you abruptly, body flushing with heat as you remembered the amount of times he would get a new girl just to dump her after he got his fill; and you refused to be next.
But before you could pull away, a knock rang throughout the room, Beomgyu pulling away from you so smoothly that he seemed to be the only one unaffected, his cool composure drastically different from your own.
You almost kissed Choi Beomgyu.
That thought alone was enough to keep you silent, trying your best to keep it together as the door opened, revealing the one person Beomgyu wanted to see last.
“Come down for dinner,” Taehyun said, voice so cold and uncaring, the contrast of when he had spoken to you making you perk up curiously. You look at him, seeing that he has now changed into something more proper, the tension between the two not left unnoticed by you. You glance at Beomgyu, shivering at the cold expression that had overtaken his features. Briefly, he glances at you, having felt your stare, and you can’t help but become embarrassed that you got caught.
“___. Stay for dinner, will you?” Your eyes widened at Beomgyu’s request, Taehyun’s expression matching yours as the two shifted their attention on you, watching as you tried to formulate a response.
“I couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you say softly, looking down as the feeling of their gaze becomes way too much for you. Honestly, you’re surprised someone as sweet as Taehyun could pull this off; he had that cold chaebol stare locked down.
“Nonsense,” Beomgyu says, and you try your best to not let your jaw drop at his words, “You’re our guest. Let us treat you as such.”
It was borderline scary to hear Beomgyu sound so hospitable, so you knew better to refuse his offer as your eyes met his again, his brow raising as he waited for your answer.
“Oh… alright,” you mutter, trying to not flinch at the way he suddenly grabs your hand, pulling you up and linking his arm with yours, leading you to his doorway where Taehyun stands, taking one moment to look at his eyes before he scoffs, heading to the dining room on his own.
“Excellent. Let’s go.” You try to keep your gaze away from Beomgyu, taking this time to look around the endless hallways and rooms once more. Taehyun is a few steps ahead of you, allowing you to take in his tall and broad frame. You let out a soft sound of surprise as Beomgyu pulls you in closer, and you look up at him questioningly, only to see that his eyes have never strayed from the path ahead of him.
What was Beomgyu plotting?
☆♡☆
The dinner table was much too big.
It was a long, rectangular table, and though there were more than enough chairs on each side, only seven of them were currently occupied, Beomgyu and Taehyun’s parents taking four on one end, with you sitting on the other, Beomgyu making you sit next to him, not accepting any excuse you might have prepared. Much to his dismay, Taehyun had sat down across from you two.
You expected the dinner to be tense and for Beomgyu’s parents to be irritated that someone who wasn’t of high status was currently in their home, but you were surprised to find yourself talking to the adults for half the time. You spoke of your major, of your family, and of your plans for the future.
“So you aren’t with Beomgyu, honey?” Taehyun’s mother had asked, catching all three of you off guard as you smiled awkwardly, ignoring the looks that the two sons were throwing at their parents.
“Mom, you can’t just ask that—“ Taehyun said, embarrassed at the straightforwardness of his mother. Shaking your head, you laughed, reassuring the man across from you.
“It’s alright,” you reassured, looking back to the other end of the table as you met Mrs. Kang’s kind eyes— she clearly didn’t mean anything by it. “We’re not together, I just came to work on a project with him.”
She nodded, letting out a small “ah,” at your words, eyeing Beomgyu with a teasing glint as she continued. “It’s just, this is the first time I’ve seen him invite a girl to stay for dinner— usually they don’t stay for long.”
“Oh please, you’ll scare her off,” Beomgyu’s mother said, the two women laughing as they continued to poke fun at the situation, seemingly aware of Beomgyu’s reputation.
You could tell that she saw something you didn’t, because as Beomgyu cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as you looked at him curiously, you couldn’t help but notice the hesitation in his response.
“That’s because there’s nothing going on. She’s a guest, nothing more.” He says, taking a drink of water to deflect your burning stare.
“Hmm, alright. Honey, how was work today?” Mrs. Kang was quick to drop the subject, turning instead to the man seated next to her, the quiet man that had yet to say anything other than the greeting he said when he first saw you opening up immediately, turning to her as well as they shared the details of their day.
Although the conversation was cut off suddenly, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care as the two couples conversed and told the others about their day, talking and joking carelessly as if they were teenagers. It took a brief moment before you realized what they were actually doing— they were giving the three of you space to talk privately.
But you didn’t talk. You couldn’t find it in yourself to utter a single word as you felt the unspoken tension between the two men return. Beomgyu wouldn’t bother keeping up an interesting conversation with you, and you were highly doubtful that Taehyun was very talkative himself.
So you remained silent instead, looking down at your plate with boredom as you began to think of things to tweak on your project instead.
Just as you were about to share an idea with Beomgyu, you stopped mid bite as the feeling of Beomgyu’s hand brushing against the skin of your thighs, immediately looking at him, only to see him continue to eat, unaware of your burning stare.
“___, where do you work?” You were caught off guard by Taehyun’s sudden question, forgetting about Beomgyu’s lingering touch as you finally allowed yourself to participate in a new conversation.
“Ah, I work at Jin’s, the diner just a couple blocks from the campus,” you said, watching as his eyes lit up, the gracious demeanor that had greeted you at the entrance returning once more.
“That makes sense! My friends and I go there all the time, I thought I recognized you from somewhere,” he says, before adding in, “that, and the fact that we also have a class together.”
You nodded, sending him a smile as you asked, “yeah, how’s your project going so far?”
Listening to him go on about how useless his partner was, you laugh along to his story and can’t help but get enraptured by his charisma. He’s so easy to talk to, unlike the black hole of happiness that sat beside you, quiet as ever as he continued to eat. You surprised yourself with how easily you got along with Taehyun, before remembering that he hadn’t let his status and power go to his head, allowing him to be more approachable.
It was almost as Beomgyu wasn’t even there— almost. Because as Taehyun told you about his thoughts on the campus mysteries— apparently, there was more to the second mystery than you thought— you couldn’t help but pause as the fluttering touch on the hem of your skirt returned.
Heart pounding, you look beside you to find Beomgyu already staring back, his fingers toying with the hem of your skirt, his eyes dark and challenging as you quickly looked away, glancing back at the other end of the table in embarrassment— only to find them talking cheerfully, their conversation so closed off that you wondered if they forgot you were here as well.
Looking back at Taehyun, you nod at his story, laughing along as you place a shaking hand over Beomgyu’s in a weak attempt to stop him, which only makes his touch on your skin more prominent as you press his hand down.
You were practically shaking. What was wrong with you! His whole family— and Taehyun’s— was right here, yet… you were hesitating to pull his hand off of you.
He raised a brow, looking at you curiously as he waited for your next move. Slowly, his fingertips traced lines along your skin, the slight pressure of his nails leaving you a flustered mess.
You gulped— what was he thinking? There was no way he would go any further, right? Plus, as much as you hated to admit, his touch was slowly becoming more and more welcomed. Yet, just as you were about to gather the courage to pull his hand away, you knock your glass of water over, letting out a small gasp as the water spills over your lap.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” You say, reaching for a napkin and immediately going to wipe down the table. Taehyun only reassures you, his kind smile and soft voice managing to calm you down, the embarrassment of your actions leaving you to frantically clean up your area.
“Tsk. What a mess.” The used napkins are left beside you in a sulking pile, and you can’t help but tense at the reminder that the water had spilled all over your lap— the reminder being the way Beomgyu was currently helping you clean up.
Gulping, you watch tensely as he pats down your skirt, the napkin in his hands doing nothing to provide a barrier from the warmth of his skin as the paper absorbs the water. Your breathing is shaky as he slowly pats down your thighs, your skirt having ridden up and exposed more of your skin. Looking up, you glance at his parents as a reflex, only to see them already back to their conversation after having reassured you that it was nothing to worry about.
The water had trickled down all over your skin and in between your thighs, but Beomgyu only ignored those parts as he went back to eating, eager to get the attention of the other pesky person off of him. Your eyes met with Taehyuns, a sheepish smile on your face as you took in the way he stared at you, lips parted slightly before you apologized once more, snapping out of his thoughts as he reassured you once more.
“Seriously, it’s no big deal,” he said, a kind smile on his face as the two of you resumed your conversation. You tried to ignore the remaining moisture on your thighs, knowing that it would be extremely awkward to go ahead and wipe in between your legs in front of them, left to shift uncomfortably in your seat as your thighs rubbed together.
But as the maids bring out the next course, leaving you gaping in awe at the thought of someone eating like this all the time, you realize that you weren’t the only one who was bothered by the remaining water. Because as you stutter mid comment on how delicious the food looks, you can’t help but let the words fall dead on your tongue as Beomgyu’s hand sneaks in, gently prodding your legs apart— and you, in your dumbfounded state, allow him to.
The napkin in his hands is ticklish and leaves a feather-like touch as he wipes down your skin. Taehyun is too busy eating to notice the way you’re staring at your food like an idiot, eyes widened in panic as you stiffen, unsure what to do.
Should you… stop him? You can’t help but debate that thought for a second, part of you grateful of the fact that he really did dry you. But the other part is currently panicking at the way the napkin has been discarded by now, replaced by his hand as he slowly runs his fingers up and down your inner thigh, the feeling already too much for someone like you.
This whole day, Beomgyu has been driving you crazy. In the library, in the study, hell, even here! His teasing is constant, yet he always stops right before he can do anything incriminating— anything that would change the way you see each other.
Which leaves you to wonder; How far is Beomgyu willing to go? Because as you slowly pick up your utensils, you can’t help the way you relax at his touch, the neediness going to your head and allowing you to go along with whatever he tries to do— you doubt he’ll really do anything.
Beomgyu glances at you, and truly, it’s almost as if he can read your thoughts; because what started off as simple teasing has turned into a challenge, and Beomgyu is not one to back down.
He’s abandoned his spot in your inner thighs. Now, he’s found a much better purchase in the apex of your thighs, his index finger taking its time to run over your clothed slit. Choking on your food, you wave off Taehyun’s worried questioning, reassuring him before you throw Beomgyu a panicked glance— he simply shrugs.
You think that if either of the two strained their ears, they would be able to hear your heart pounding against your chest. You’re nervous, shaky even, as you try to remain cool, trying your best to converse with Taehyun as you realize that wow, this feels really good.
Something about Taehyun, kind, handsome, welcoming, talking to you eagerly while Beomgyu sat next to you, hand hidden beneath the tablecloth and playing with you like he knew what was best for you, drove you absolutely crazy.
God, you really were a total prude. You realized, biting down on your lip as you realized with shame just how turned on you were. Beomgyu had yet to do anything to you, yet you were driven crazy by a few simple touches— which is exactly why you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched at the feeling of his finger circling slowly on your clit, the cloth of your panties beginning to stick uncomfortably to you as he continued his ministrations, your eyes widening as he began to teasingly push against your entrance.
You might just go insane. It was so overwhelming, yet it wasn’t enough, the way that Beomgyu stimulated you with ease, yet refused to go further. The barrier between the two of you drove you mad, and before you could stop and think over what you were doing, you reached down to grab at his wrist, stopping all of his movement.
He looked at you, waiting for your next move, eyes darkening as he inhaled slowly, trying to remain unfazed as you pushed your hand against your pussy, grinding down on him as you guided him to push your panties to the side— a switch had been flipped between the two of you, and there was no going back.
Beomgyu’s fingers were long and slender, his movements confident and experienced as he pushed inside, jaw clenching as he took in just how tight you were. Taking a sip of your now refilled water, you tried to choke down the sounds that were fighting to escape from your lips, the foreign feeling of someone else’s hands on you making you dizzy.
You waited patiently for him to do something, anything, your thighs shaking with need the longer he waited, your hips grinding down on him subconsciously as the need in your stomach grew even more. Yet just as you were about to gather the courage to look at him, you looked to the end of the table, watching as Beomgyu and Taehyun’s parents stood up, making their way to where the three of you sat.
Stopping behind Taehyun, you waited expectantly for Beomgyu to pull out of you, only to realize with horror that Beomgyu wasn’t planning to. You were beyond ashamed as you flashed them all a small smile, watching as they adjusted their outfits before turning to you.
“We have a business meeting to attend, so we’re going to be leaving early,” Beomgyu’s mother said, directing her words to all three of you as her husband stood next to her, nodding silently. “It was a pleasure meeting you, ___. Feel free to come back to visit,” she said, and you nodded, bowing gratefully at her words.
“Thank you, it was a pleasure meeting you as well. Thank you for having me,” you meekly reply, afraid that if you make a wrong move, they’ll find out just what the two of you are currently up to. You watch stiffly as they say goodbye to their sons, telling them teasingly to behave before they’re off, chatting eagerly amongst themselves as they don’t bother glancing back at the three of you again.
It was silent— and so, so awkward. Maybe it was just you, but you’re sure that if you weren’t careful, you could probably choke on the tension in the room. Your hands were shaky as you reached for your water once more, a thick wave of embarrassment washing over you as you took in the reality of the situation; that being, Beomgyu’s warm hand that was still nestled comfortably between your thighs.
And as the neediness in your stomach cooled down, you realized with a heavy dread what you had done. Despite your usual overthinking and worrying, you had completely given in to the temptation that was Beomgyu, and you couldn’t be more disappointed in yourself if you tried. Carefully, you reached down to grasp Beomgyu’s wrist once more, trying to not pay attention to the way he glanced at you curiously.
“I should get going,” you say, pulling his hand away harshly as you try to not wince at the suddenness. The two men turn to you, watching as you shyly stand before them, avoiding their gazes as if one look could give away everything you were thinking about.
“It’s getting late, and I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” Sending Beomgyu a polite smile, you fidget nervously as you ask, “Could I go back to your study to get my bag?”
“I’ll take you there,” he says, and before you can protest, he’s standing up, not bothering to spare a glance to Taehyun before he’s walking you back to the staircase, trailing behind you without another word.
Your heart is practically pounding out of your chest as you walk up the stairs, the feeling of Beomgyu’s eyes still on you making you flush hotly with embarrassment. He wasn’t even trying to hide it; you could feel him blatantly trying to look up your skirt as you walked, unsure of what to do as you glanced back at him, only to be sent a coy smile in return.
You’re practically running back to the study as you finally reach the second floor, uncaring of whether or not you seem rude as you get to the room before him, opening the door and packing your things as quickly as you can. You’re struggling to make room for your laptop in your bag as you see Beomgyu appear in the doorway out of the corner of your eye, gulping nervously as his silent stare is caught on you once more.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” He asks, taking slow steps towards you as he watches you fumble with your bag. You don’t respond, finding much more interest in the zipper of your bag as you try to get it to close properly.
He slams his hand on the table, and you’re flinching at the sound as you feel him tower over you, placing his hand on the chair that stood between you and the man that set your nerves alight. You can’t bring yourself to look up as you feel him lean in closer, his breath practically fanning on your cheek as you feel him exhale in amusement.
“Thought you might’ve wanted to keep me company,” he says, his voice soft and alluring as he places a hand on top of yours, successfully stopping your fidgeting as you freeze entirely.
“It’s getting late, I should really go,” you say, unsure of what else to say as Beomgyu only takes your word with a grain of salt.
“It is,” he says, his voice soft and sultry against your ear, “I wouldn’t want you going home at such a dangerous hour.”
You’re not given much time to react before you’re being pulled, the small obstacle between you two no more as you find yourself practically sitting on the desk, your eyes wide as Beomgyu quickly slots himself between your legs, his arms trapping you in as he pouts at you mockingly.
“You’ll stay a little longer, right?” He says, watching the way you gulp nervously under his strong gaze, the welcoming scent of his cologne enticing you to give in and become another girl on his roster.
“I have to go,” you say, pushing weakly at his chest, surprised when he lets you pull away from him and reach for your bag frantically. He doesn’t bother following you as you scamper out of his study, your head bowed down and the slippers you were given scuffing against the tiles of the cold home as you’re hurrying your way back to the main entrance. You spot Taehyun on your way there, but all you can do is hurry your footsteps and duck your head further in embarrassment as you try to ignore the way he seems ready to stop you in your tracks.
Beomgyu watches from his window as you sheepishly ask the valet for your car, fidgeting nervously and pacing back and forth as you wait patiently. You’re like a deer in headlights, doe eyes wide and panicked and your legs shaky as you thank the man, climbing in your car clumsily and driving off faster than he expected you to.
You were cute, Beomgyu decided, pausing for a second before also deciding that he didn’t mind playing along to get what he wanted.
☆♡☆
“—I’m so fucked up, like, who does that? His parents were right there!” You’re practically falling apart at the seams as you recite your evening to Taehyung, clutching a pillow tightly against your chest as you try to not look at Taehyung’s reaction from his seat on the couch. It was like word vomit, the story practically escaping you the moment you walked back into your shared apartment, Taehyung’s jaw dropping further and further the more you told him.
“I didn’t think you had it in you,” he breathes out, amazed at your story as he stares at you incredulously, his comment only making you writhe around the couch and whine in embarrassment.
“I don’t, that’s the thing!” You cry out, placing your hands on your face as you feel your skin heating up, “He’s so— I don’t know, He’s just straight up insane, but I can’t help but follow along like an idiot! Why? What’s wrong with me?”
“You got it bad,” Taehyung says matter of factly, his simple sentence making you feel as though a weight dropped on your chest. You turn to him, nervous as you let his words linger in your mind.
“Do not.” You deny, turning back to look at your ceiling, ignoring the way Taehyung only scoffs and rolls his eyes at your claims. The silence, you find, is more unbearable than Taehyung grilling you for details about your experience. You find yourself restless, unable to be too sure of your words as you rethink every interaction that you had with him tonight.
“The valet guy was cute.”
“Tell me more.”
You’re desperate to get your thoughts away from Beomgyu.
☆♡☆
Your thoughts are filled with nothing but Beomgyu.
It’s official— you’ve gone insane. It seems your little inexperienced brain couldn’t handle the feeling of another’s hand shoved in between your legs, because you simply have yet to have a moment where your thoughts aren’t filled with that dreadful day. To make things worse—or better, honestly— Beomgyu also has yet to come up to you again. Just like he promised, he was too busy to even look in your direction; or so, you’d like to think.
There’s no reason for you to care, but what if that was it? What if that night at his home had been enough of a taste for Beomgyu, and he had now decided that he’s had his fill? Was he just tossing you aside now? Did he find you pathetic?
It really shouldn’t be bothering you that much; but it did. It did, and it absolutely tore you apart that it could itch at you that much. For crying out loud, what did you expect? Choi Beomgyu was the last person you should have taken interest in, but sometimes you even found yourself thinking about the expensive cologne that you swore still lingered around you.
“___, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you’re slow to look up as the voice calls out to you, lost in thought as it takes you a moment to recognize the second person that you’d rather not confront at the moment; Kang Taehyun. Throughout Beomgyu’s absence, Taehyun had also seemed to take a liking to you, beginning to approach you more and more often during and after classes. You could already hear the rumors that would bubble up at your sudden interactions, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care much this time.
“Hey,” you smile weakly, tired as you glance back down at the stubborn stain you’ve been trying to get off for the past minute. This was quite honestly the last place you’d rather meet either of the men in, but Taehyun did say that he came to this diner a lot. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Ah, just a chocolate milkshake, for now,” he says, watching as you nod before you’re pacing around behind the counter, going back and forth as you begin to make it. Taehyun’s gaze is far more different than Beomgyu’s; it’s less intense, and you don’t feel like you’re in danger everytime you feel his eyes on you. And as you slid the glass towards him, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more welcomed by his presence as he spoke.
“You seem a bit stressed, is everything alright?” He asks, taking a sip from his drink before he continues, “Beomgyu isn’t bothering you, is he?”
“No no, nothing like that,” you say, quick to deny his claims. The last thing you needed was more tension between the two. “Honestly, I haven’t even seen him recently.”
“Hmm, right,” Taehyun hums, moving his straw about absentmindedly as he stirs the whipped cream, “He should be in New York right about now.”
“New York? Really?” You say, pausing your cleaning as you imagine the sight, “What’s he doing all the way over there?”
It’s too late for you to retract and apologize for asking too many questions, but as you watch Taehyun lean on the counter, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that he doesn’t mind answering you.
“He insisted on going with our fathers to a meeting,” He says, rolling his eyes at the thought, “Insisting he has to do it because he’ll be taking over the company soon.”
Sometimes you forget that the two are millionaires— well, mostly Taehyun, but still— but it’s times like these where you can’t help but feel like being partnered with Beomgyu is just a continuous slap in the face. Here you are, working a horrible shift at a random diner in Korea, all whilst your partner is miles away and probably enjoying the night view of a busy city. Life truly is unfair.
“Hmm, of course,” you say, unable to hide the fact that you cannot relate to anything Taehyun is saying, “Must suck that you didn’t go, huh?”
“Oh no, not at all,” he’s quick to shut down your claims, surprising you as he shakes his head at the very thought. “I wouldn’t mind taking over for the company, but I couldn’t care less about it, honestly. I actually have a career I want to pursue, unlike Beomgyu.”
“Really?” You say, unable to hold back your surprise at his words. A quick glance around the diner, and another glance at the clock is all you need before you’re leaning in as well, curious to hear more about Taehyun. “And what is that?”
It’s odd how quickly you’re drawn to Taehyun— but then again, he’s just so charming and charismatic as he tells you about how he wishes to work at his dream law firm, and how he wishes to separate himself as someone independent, and not just someone who’s relying on daddy’s money.
“My father isn’t a bad person by any means,” he’s quick to correct himself as glances back up at you, sending you a sheepish smile as he says so. But as he looks back at his half-drunk milkshake, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes harden into something else as he continues.
“But seeing Beomgyu parade around as if he’s untouchable, it just annoys me.” He’s running his fingers along the glass, drawing shapes with the precipitation of the cool drink, “if it weren’t for his father’s money, he wouldn’t be able to get away with half the shit he does.”
He pauses, looking back up at you with an apologetic smile as he adds, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you.”
“No, I get where you’re coming from,” you say, surprised with yourself as you finally admit those words out loud, “He’s definitely a bit hard to handle.”
And for the rest of the night, you’re ashamed to admit that you and Taehyun bonded over your strange experiences with the boy, talking until you no longer needed that common factor to keep the conversation going. You talked until you glanced up at the clock once more, surprised to find that it was time for you to clock out already.
“I gotta go,” you said, sending him an apologetic smile before saying your goodbyes. You were quick to clock out, gathering all your things before you went back up front, ready to leave when you were left surprised at what you saw. You had expected Taehyun to be gone by now, but he was still there, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly as he fiddled with the straw of his empty drink. You pause in your steps, unsure of what to do as he looks up, sending you a smile as you see him tapping at the table nervously.
“Sorry, it’s just, it’s been nice talking,” he says, biting at his lips as he takes in the way you fight back a smile, “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit longer?”
You’re not sure why, but it’s easier to be bolder around Taehyun; maybe it’s because you actually get an option with him. But you can’t help the way curiosity tugs at you, bringing you closer to him as you take in all his nervous habits.
“Sure, we could go to my place,” you pause, before remembering that Taehyung would probably be there; you didn’t really need him to pry at the poor boy before you, “Or actually, is it alright if we go to yours? My roommate has someone over tonight.”
It’s a small lie, but it’s worth it as you see Taehyun beam brightly at you, leading him to your car as the two of you continue to talk as if you had been friends for years, allowing him to drive as you let him take you to his home. You expected things to slow down during the ride to his house and remain awkward, but you were surprised to find that Taehyun was very good at keeping a conversation going. You spoke of your interests and hobbies, quickly finding out that the two of you had the same taste in music.
It’s scary how magnetic the boy before you is, because as you’re entering the same mansion as last time, much to your surprise, you can’t help but feel intrigued at how much warmer the home has become with him next to you. Your cheeks sting from smiling and you feel light as you walk up the stairs, slightly surprised when you’re led to his own room instead of another unnecessary room.
“You have a room of your own here?” You say, surprised to find that it wasn’t just another guest room. He’s visibly caught off guard by your words, and you can’t help but scold yourself at the fact that you let your mouth run by itself once more.
“Well, I practically grew up here, and our family mostly spends their time here as well,” he says, and you can’t help but feel slightly alienated at his words— again, how many rooms do they have?
“Do you want some clothes to change into?” Taehyun asks, noticing the way you had been fidgeting uncomfortably, fiddling with your clothes mindlessly as it finally clicked in his head that you were still in your work clothes. You’re quick to deny him, but it’s easy to make you give in as he insists, and it isn’t long before he’s showing you to his bathroom (because obviously, he would have a personal bathroom) leaving you alone as you’re given a moment to change.
It’s a simple pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, similar to the attire you saw him in the first time you visited. You put it on, the clothes loose in some places, but fitting nicely overall. You take a second to observe yourself in the mirror, feeling yourself heat up at how oddly intimate this was. You were hesitant to come out, nervous to see what he would think when he saw you.
“There’s this drama that I’ve been wanting to watch for a while now,” he says, glancing at where you stood at the doorway. He made no comments about how you looked, patting the spot next to him softly as he beckoned you to sit next to him. It was oddly reassuring, knowing that you wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him— slowly, you made your way to his bed, sitting down as you left a bit of space between the two of you.
“Hometown Cha Cha Cha?” You said, reading the title out loud as you briefly skimmed the description. “I didn’t think you’d watch kdramas.”
“Well, it was my mother who always watched them,” he says, leaning back against his bed frame as he sends you a sheepish smile, “she just seemed to pass on the habit.”
It’s endearing, the way Taehyun looks a bit self conscious as he hovers over the play button, unsure of whether or not you might find his tastes in shows embarrassing.
“I heard that it’s really good,” you say, allowing yourself to lay back against the pillows as you begin to get comfortable, “play it.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way Taehyun smiles to himself, the two of you going silent as the show begins to play.
☆♡☆
“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing, I can’t watch,” you say, covering your eyes as you sink into the fortress of pillows that surrounds you. Taehyun only laughs, trying to pry your hands away from your face as you whine, shaking your head no as he insists.
“I would literally die if I did that,” you say, watching as the main character is shown drunk and out of control, blatantly embarrassing herself in front of her love interest, “I would rather forget everything than remember that I acted like that.”
“Personally, I would love to see that,” he says, leaning towards you as he looks down at where you lay, “In fact, can I get you something to drink?”
“Shut up,” you laugh, pushing his face away as he chuckles at your reaction. It goes silent, the two of you too busy watching the show to continue teasing each other. Out of the corner of your eye, you find yourself much closer to Taehyun than you had been when you started— yet you can’t bring yourself to care as you take in his presence, enjoying the subtle scent of his cologne as your thoughts begin to stray once more.
Taehyun was so sweet. He was warm and charming, and you couldn’t help but find yourself wishing that you could get even closer to him as time passed, glancing at him from time to time as you took in the way he looked as he focused on the show, his side profile just as gorgeous as the rest of him.
“Do I have something on my face?” He doesn’t even bother looking away from the tv as he says those words, startling you as you try to think of an excuse to play it off. But before you can say anything, he’s turning to you, resting his face in the palm of his hand as he looks at you teasingly— you can’t help but be reminded of Beomgyu at this moment.
Oh god, you think to yourself, lips parted as you find yourself unable to say anything, helpless to the way he’s leaning closer, to the way his other hand travels to find itself on your waist, allowing him to overtake your senses as you feel his breath fan on your skin.
Not him too.
You’re not sure what to do, and you’re sure as hell not sure of what will come next as you let yourself give in, weak to his charms as his lips land on yours, the show long forgotten as you begin to sink into the mattress below you. He’s hovering over you, the kiss slow and sweet as you feel his hands begin to wander, your own finding purchase on his shoulders as you grip onto him tightly, too afraid to pull away and face what happens next.
He’s addicting, and you find yourself unable to pull away for even a second, the kiss messy and needy as you feel him straddle you, his thigh clumsily prying at your legs before he’s slotted it between you, his hands cupping your face as he hovers over you eagerly.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he says, whispering the words against your lips as you feel your stomach come alive with butterflies, smiling shyly at the compliment as you feel him trial kisses down the column of your neck.
“I’m sorry this is so sudden, but I just… I couldn’t hold myself back.” You can feel the way his hand lingers at the hem of your— his— shirt, playing with the fabric as you lace your hands in his hair. “You just looked so good in my clothes, it was driving me crazy.”
“Was this your plan all along?” You joke, sighing at the feeling of his warm hand reaching under the pesky shirt to hold your waist. He’s quick to pull away at that, eyes wide as he looks at you, practically glowing as the light of the tv shines behind him.
“No— sorry, did it feel that way?” He looks genuine as he apologizes, worried that he may have overstepped a line as he pulls away from you. It’s brief, though, because before you can think twice, you’re pulling him back in, feeling him groan softly against your lips as he lets himself melt against you.
“I was joking,” you clarify, breathless as you feel him shift, his thigh pressing up against you as you gasp at the feeling, allowing Taehyun to take this chance to deepen the kiss. The two of you are desperate and shameless as you let your hands wander, the feeling of his lingering touches leaving a hot trail on your skin. You’re practically suffocating as you’re encased beneath him, the feeling leaving you dizzy and weak to him.
Your hands find his shoulders as you’re pushing him away, the two of you sitting up and taking a moment to catch your breath. His lips are swollen and red as he looks at you, but before he can get another word out, you’re quickly climbing on his lap as you straddle him, taking his head in your hands as he looks up at you.
“You look so good like this,” he says, his hands finding themselves on the small of your back as they itch to venture further down. You hum, smiling at his words as you bring him in for another slow kiss— then another, and another, before the two decide that it’s no longer enough, that you’d rather have more.
You’re not sure where this confidence is coming from, but you can’t allow yourself to stop in fear of crashing down from this high. Yet, as you sit back and watch Taehyun take his shirt off, you can’t help but feel yourself become unsure as you take a second to observe him— unfortunately for you, he’s quick to notice.
“Are you sure about this?” He says, pausing in his touches as he watches you crash down from your wave; you’re flustered, taking in the way his toned skin practically begs to be touched. You sit there, unsure of what to say as his hands remain at your waist, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he waits for you to say something.
“It’s just— I haven’t done anything like this in a while,” it’s beyond embarrassing to admit, and you can feel your body heating up as you avoid his gaze, looking away and back to the show that was still playing in the background. Your nerves are on fire as you wait for him to say something, inhaling sharply as he cups your cheek, forcing you to look back at him as he sends you a reassuring smile.
“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he says, allowing you to take a moment to decide for yourself.
“But you look so good,” you pout, shamelessly checking him out as you feel your hands find their way to his shoulders, letting yourself run one down his chest, taking in the way he shivers at your touch.
“Then I’ll be gentle,” he says, leaning in to give you a soft peck. You’re quick to chase after his lips, ready to throw caution to the wind as he asks, “Are you sure?”
And yes, you are. If it’s Taehyun, then you’re more than sure. He’s been nothing but kind and patient with you, and you can’t help the way you’re completely drawn to him. You nod, whispering your confirmation against his lips, and that’s all he needs before he’s tugging at the hem of your shirt, urging you to take off the clothing as well.
You’re pulling away as you’re beginning to tug the shirt over your head, but before you can do so, a rough knock makes you pull away from him faster than the speed of light. Taehyun, you notice, is beyond annoyed as he does nothing, the glare that he sends the door before him practically deadly as another knock follows shortly.
He sends you an apologetic glance before he’s rummaging around the bed for his shirt, laughing softly as you sheepishly hand it to him, your eyes already avoiding his own as you try to remain calm. Yet before he even stands up, he’s grabbing the back of your neck, a soft sound of surprise leaving you as he quickly pulls you in for a last kiss, the feeling of your hands grabbing at his already wrinkled shirt making him smile against your lips.
“Fucking asshole…” he grumbles, rolling his eyes as another harsh knock interrupts your moment. It’s then, when you realize with horror, just who is outside Taehyun’s door.
You watch nervously from the safety of his blankets as Taehyun opens the door, barely allowing himself or the rest of the room to be seen as he’s standing in the small crack, the opening blocked by his body as he leans against the doorway casually.
“What do you want.” His voice is back to the cold and commanding tone that never fails to set your fight or flight response alight. Taehyun’s voice is octaves lower, and you’re surprised to find yourself enjoying it more than you should.
“I’m trying to sleep, and you’re disturbing me. My trip was very exhausting, you know.” Beomgyu is quick and to the point as he speaks, attempting to glance behind Taehyun to see who else might be in the room. Taehyun only moves, blocking his sight as the thought of Beomgyu seeing you and possibly trying to start something irks him. Beomgyu raises a brow at the other’s behavior, scoffing at his actions as he watches the way Taehyun prickles at his every move.
“What’re you hiding in there,” he says, feeling his curiosity mix in with his annoyance as the man before him is quick to shut him down, glaring at him as he tells him to leave. But then again, Beomgyu loves a good challenge.
It’s so sudden, and all you can see from where you sit on the bed is the way Beomgyu grabs onto the door, pushing it open as he peeks in, eyes apathetic until they land on you.
“___.” He says, and you can’t help the way your body shivers at the way your name rolls off his tongue like honey, a perfect trap as you look up at him with your panicked eyes. Even as Taehyun tells him to leave, he can’t take his eyes off you, taking in the way you’ve seemed to make yourself comfortable in Taehyun’s clothes, in Taehyun’s bed.
There’s nothing truly compromising about your position, but you can’t help but feel self conscious at the way he stares at you, the air thickened with tension as Taehyun stands to the side, jaw clenched as he waits for Beomgyu’s stubbornness to dry out.
“Seems you’ve made yourself quite at home,” his voice is icy and mean as he directs his jabs at you, watching the way your wide eyes silently plead at him to not say anything that might relate to the things he did to you— the things you allowed him to do. To your relief, nothing else is said as he turns to Taehyun, his face empty of anything that could give away how he felt.
The two of them share a look, and unbeknownst to you, they silently acknowledge the fact that there’s a new interest that has hooked them both; you. And with one last glance at you, Beomgyu returns to his room, his jaw ticking with anger as his thoughts are filled with the way you seemed so comfortable in Taehyun’s bed— the way that Taehyun had gained an advantage to your heart.
But Beomgyu wasn’t going to lose— he was sure of that.
☆♡☆
“You! Coward! Why! Are! You! Here! Then!” You’re practically on the verge of losing your voice as Taehyung’s every word is punctuated with a smack of a pillow, left cornered on the couch as he traps you in with his body. Your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues to scold you, the memory of Taehyung’s face after you had told him what had happened enough to let you know that you hit a nerve.
To your pleasant surprise, the assault weapon is tossed to the side as Taehyung hovers over you, squishing your cheeks together as he glares at you.
“You have,” he says, forehead touching against your as he lets all his frustrations out, “Not one, but two— two!! Hot rich men after you, and you mean to tell me you chicken out both times?!”
“I know!” You say, weakly defending yourself as you’re pushing Taehyung off of you, glaring back at him as you grab onto the discarded pillow, hugging it tightly as you speak.
“But first off, Beomgyu is an asshole,” you say, reminding him that neither of you particularly like the boy, “And Taehyun… Taehyun…”
“Exactly.” Taehyung says, cutting you off as he ignores your glare, “No excuses. He was fine and you wanted him.”
“But Beomgyu, and like, probably the rest of his family, was right there!”
“Didn’t stop you last time!”
The two of you immediately go silent at his words, your eyes wide in shock as you stare at him, jaw to the floor as he stares back, as equally floored as you are.
“That was low.”
“I know. But I have a point.”
“You do…” you sigh, leaning back on the couch as you throw your head back, staring at the ceiling as you try to forget your embarrassing memory. Nothing happened; you couldn’t really bring yourself to do anything as you two were left in a tense silence.
You tried to wait it out— you really did— but you couldn’t help the way your thoughts were brought back to Beomgyu each time, wondering just where his room was that had him being able to listen to the two of you that clearly. (Not that the two of you were even that loud… right?) But the guilt of having him on the back of your mind while you and Taehyun tried your best to go back to normal was too much for you, and before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to him.
It felt awful trying to reassure him that he had done nothing wrong, but you weren’t sure how to explain to him the real reason why you just couldn’t stick around longer. And even as you thought back to that moment, you could still feel the butterflies that swarmed your stomach at the way he seemed so shy as he asked you to stay a bit longer.
“___. Look at me.” If it weren’t for Taehyung’s change in tone, you wouldn’t have bothered moving an inch from the couch. But you complied, curious to what your friend would say as you raised your head, slowly sitting up and meeting his eyes as you waited for him to continue.
“You are going to go up to Taehyun the first chance you get,” he says, taking your hand as you gave him an unconvinced look, “And you are going to ask him out on a date. And possibly get laid.”
“Tae, you know damn well—“
“I do!” He says, stopping you in your tracks as he grips onto your hand even tighter, ignoring the way you wince and try to slip away. But he’s persistent, glaring at you as he waits for you to settle down. “But that man has laid all his cards out for you, and I will not stand by and watch you ruin the opportunity of your lifetime!”
When he was met with nothing but silence and a dead stare, he scoffed, letting go of your hand as he laid back on the couch, arms crossed with annoyance.
“I will literally spend the day outside if you need me to so no one will interrupt you. I’m being serious.”
“Why are you so interested in this?” You whined, caving in as you slouched down, hugging your pillow tightly to your chest as you pouted, “it’s not even that big of a deal.”
“Stop saying that!” He says, throwing the only pillow left by his side at you, much to your dismay, “You know that’s not true!”
Okay, he was right, and you knew he was right. This was by far the wildest opportunity that had ever been set on your path, and only a fool would pass by such a chance— And while you were more than willing to be that fool, Taehyung was not.
“You got anything going on tomorrow?” You asked weakly.
“No.”
“You do now. Stay out of the house.”
Taehyung brightened at your words, and you tried to tune out his gloating and excited chatter as you tried to steel yourself for what you were going to do— you were going to finish what you started.
☆♡☆
Tae :]
??? He’s not there??
BRO
You couldn’t help the way your mood immediately depleted at the reminder, finding yourself unable to follow along with your professor's words as your eyes found themselves lingering at the place where Taehyun usually sits. Honestly, what cruel coincidence was this? You didn’t even have his number, and the only chance you had to approach him was taken from your hands.
Someone has it out for you, you decided, slouched down as you try your best to write something down. Yet while you were too busy sulking in your own little world, you were too distracted to feel the way Beomgyu sat a few rows behind you, unable to take his eyes away from you as he watched your sluggish behavior.
He knew what you were thinking— it was so obvious, with the way you keep glancing back at the empty space where Taehyun sits— and he couldn’t help but feel himself get more aggravated as time went on.
Honestly, he couldn’t be more pissed if he tried. Beomgyu finally sets his eyes on a new target, and Taehyun takes it as an invitation to pursue you as well? To make things worse, the memory of you in Taehyun’s room never seemed to leave his head. But Taehyun wasn’t there to bother you now; much to the other’s protests, he was currently off to Japan with his parents in hopes to form a partnership with another company.
With Taehyun, it had always been a competition. And although his parents never showed it now, they both knew that they were only born to make sure that there would be someone to take over the company when they no longer couldn’t— what they hadn’t accounted for, however, was their sheer lack of interest in doing it together. It may have worked for Beomgyu’s father and his friend, but Taehyun had never piqued his interest; much less had he become friends with the boy. Their relationship was nothing but a race to the top— and Beomgyu was going to make sure that he wouldn’t lose.
Yet, as the years went by, Taehyun had grown out of his interest in his father’s business. He had no interest in taking over, much to his parent’s disappointment. Although a phantom pressure still lingered, all that was left for the two boys was a tension that would never go away— they were stuck seeing each other as opponents, and nothing more.
So what had started as a game had inevitably turned into more. Beomgyu never had any real intentions in keeping you around, but seeing Taehyun follow you around like a lost dog had Beomgyu quickly changing his mind; it was petty, but he truly couldn’t care less.
He’d have you wrapped around his finger in no time.
He didn’t really have a plan on what to do, but as the lecture ended and everyone started to trickle out of the classroom, he knew that he had to do something now before you slipped out of his clutches.
“___.”
You swear that Beomgyu had a knack of appearing when you least wanted him to.
You couldn’t bother putting up a smile as you turned to him, raising a brow as you waited for him to speak, unamused as you adjusted your glasses. He was silent, much to your annoyance, and it seemed as though he hadn’t a clue on what he wanted to say either.
“I need a favor.”
“A favor? Why? What favor?” To say you were caught off guard would be an understatement, because as you waited for him to elaborate, you could already feel your stomach forming a whirlwind of anxiety— nothing good could come from those words.
“I need a date,” he says, ignoring the way you immediately begin to try to refuse him, “We’re celebrating the success of our new partnership, and I want you to come with me.”
“Why can’t you just get some other girl?” You snap, already walking out of the empty classroom, Beomgyu hot on your heels. He frowns, following you out as you try to shake him off to no avail. It’s a nice fall day outside, the cool breeze that shakes the autumn trees making you shiver involuntarily. Just when you think he might have given up, you stop, the harsh tug on your jacket making you send the boy behind you a scowl.
“I don’t want some other girl.” He says, eyes locked on you as he takes a step forward, keeping you still with the grip on your jacket, “I want you.”
Beomgyu watches you closely— he takes in every change of expression, the way that his words seem to have caught you off guard, your nervous demeanor returning as you try to stutter out an answer. He stares, gaze unmoving as he smiles, eyes teasing as he watches you begin to mold to his will.
“No.”
So close.
It isn’t much, but the small twitch of Beomgyu’s brow is all you need to know— he doesn’t want to hear no. But the thought of agreeing to his offer sends chills down your spine— nothing good can come from this. The two of you are still, unable to leave as the back and forth commences once more; every enticing offer that slips past his lips is met with your refusal.
“No, why are you so stuck on it being me?!” You exclaim, taking a step back as you watch him go quiet.
Honestly, what was he doing? Standing there and begging you to accompany him— this wasn’t how things were supposed to play out; if anything, he should be having you at his feet. But as he stands there, observing the way you’re flushed and annoyed, your eyes glaring at him through your glasses, he finds his stomach twisting at the thought that bubbles in his mind— he’s quick to push it down.
“You— fuck…” he’s running a hand through his hair, long locks parting through his fingers as he stands back, amazed at the effect you seem to have on him. He huffs, watching your sparkling eyes light with that same curiosity that he’s always been secretly fond of; the same curiosity that always seems to want to learn more about him.
And he’s not wrong, because you soon find yourself wondering what he’s thinking, what his true intentions are; what he’s hiding behind that icy persona. You can already hear Taehyung’s words from over here— do it, it’ll be fun, how often do you get invited to things like this?’
You decide to channel your inner Taehyung— just this once, maybe you should loosen up.
“Where is the party…” your words are barely audible, too embarrassed that you’ve changed your mind, and that, once again, Beomgyu has gotten his way. But it’s enough for him, because his demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and the calm and cool persona that you see on a daily basis comes back.
“We’re hosting it, obviously,” he shrugs off the glare you send him, “and it’s tonight.”
“Tonight?!” You say, eyes wide as you clutch your bag in panic, “what am I even supposed to wear…”
“That’s why I brought this up now,” he says, grabbing your hand before he’s tugging you in the opposite direction of your original destination; you protest as you tell him to let you go, but he doesn’t bother listening as his hold on you only tightens in response.
“Where are we going?” You whine, stomping your feet as he ignores you once more. You’re irritated— for someone who was asking something of you, he sure was as annoying as ever.
“What do you think?” He says, his tone sarcastic as you stop in front of an expensive looking car— truly, you couldn’t care less about cars, but simply being around this one makes you nervous. And, to no one’s surprise, Beomgyu unlocks it, signaling you to get in. “We’re getting you something to wear.”
“Take me to the mall or something, I’m on a budget,” you say, sitting hesitantly in the passenger’s seat; wow, the car smelled so nice. You can’t help but feel a bit depressed as Beomgyu pulls out of the parking lot, upset that you’ll have to splurge on such a sudden event. He simply chuckles at your words, and you can already feel a degrading jab coming your way— but nothing comes.
Instead, the car ride remains silent as you stare out the window, the anxiety brewing inside you only bubbling up more intensely as you realize that he was not heading to the mall, and was instead heading to a much more expensive plaza.
“Hey, hey, what are we doing here?” You ask, sitting up as you watch Beomgyu head to a parking lot, not even bothering to glance your way as you continue to panic, “I was cool with getting a Forever21 or H&M dress— if they’d even have my size— but seriously, why don’t we go somewhere else—“
“I’m not “cool” with those cheap dresses,” he scoffs, proceeding to send you a look that immediately shuts you up. The car is parked but you still remain inside as he looks at you, coming over to your side as he opens the door for you. You refuse to get out, the brand names of the many different department stores rooting you to the spot as you stare up at them in fear.
Seriously, how many paychecks would you have to throw away to get a single item at these stores? The numbers kept rolling in your head, and you didn’t like it one bit.
“Come on, don’t be ridiculous,” Beomgyu was tugging at your hand and pulling you out before you knew it, his eyes already locked on his first store as he tugged you in that direction. You couldn’t help but bristle at his comment, annoyed at how nonchalant he could be while stepping into such a high end store. You tried to avert your eyes at every price tag you saw, and Beomgyu could only watch from the sidelines, beyond amused at your antics.
Of course you weren’t going to be paying— it was just entertaining to watch your eyes go wide as the woman assisting you two continued to pile up dresses in her arms, standing back as Beomgyu surfed through the racks, a bored expression on his face as he did so.
The dresses in the woman’s arms ranged drastically from flowy, light colors, to form fitting, dark colors. You could only eye the fabrics warily, unsure if you would be able to pull any of them off. But before you could protest, the two of you were being led off to the dressing room, feeling yourself grow shy at the intimate setup of it all. There was only one dressing room, the outside being surrounded with floor length mirrors that allowed you to look at yourself from every angle. In front of the dressing room, a single couch was placed, the rest of the area closed off with a velvety curtain— for privacy.
Without skipping a beat, Beomgyu takes a seat at the small couch, glancing back at you expectantly as he did so. You shift, watching as the woman places all the dresses on the hooks in your changing room, sending you a small smile and a bow before she leaves, letting you know that she’ll be nearby if you need her assistance. You thank her, watching her disappear behind the curtain before the two of you are left alone.
“What are you waiting for?” Beomgyu’s voice is deep and soft as he calls out to you, the dressing area silent and closed off as you flinch, glancing at the changing room with unsure eyes.
“I don’t know about this, I can’t afford to buy anything from here—“
“Are you still on that?” With a heavy sigh, Beomgyu sighs, approaching you with slow steps as his narrowed eyes lock onto you. You’re nervous, like always, except this time you can’t bring yourself to look at Beomgyu as he traps you, only a step away from coming in contact with you as he looks up, exhaling through his nose slowly.
“You’re not paying, stupid,” you’re able to meet his eyes then, watching the way his face lights up with amusement at your suprise, “did you really think that?”
“Yes, but this is worse,” you say, and Beomgyu already feels his patience running out. “I don’t want to owe you anything.”
“For fucks sake—“ you let out a yelp at the way Beomgyu’s hands roughly land on your shoulders, steering you to the changing room and rolling his eyes at the way you try to fight back. He pushes you in, blocking the door as you continue to complain.
“You won’t owe me anything, I couldn’t care less if I’d have to buy this whole plaza to get you to come with me,” he says, watching the way you immediately go quiet, “now try those dresses on, unless you want me to help.”
He watched as you jumped at his comment, quickly shoving him out of the room before slamming the door in his face. He can only grin at that, listening to the sounds of rustling and your quiet grumbles from the other side.
It honestly feels like you’re stuck in that room for hours— maybe you actually were. Dress after dress, you would come outside to gauge Beomgyu’s reaction, watching the way he would either shake his his or nod apathetically in approval. More often than not, you would come out to be greeted with more dresses, watching as Beomgyu would ask the assistant to bring more in a certain color or style.
“Beomgyu, please,” you said, wriggling into the newest addition of the pile, “Don’t you think I’ve tried on enough? I think there should be a dress that we can both agree on— oh god…”
You’re absolutely frozen in shock as you stand in front of the small mirror before you, bristling at the way the dress looks. In your haste to get things over with, you had failed to notice that this dress had not one, but two slits— they stopped just at the tops of your thighs, and the fabric was tucked neatly in between your legs. Not only that, but the plunging neckline covered practically nothing; and the exposed feeling on your back was all you needed to know about the rest of the dress.
“What is this supposed to cover…?” You mumbled to yourself, staring down at the way the black fabric hugged your body tightly, before turning into a flowy material that reached the floor.
“Are you done?” Beomgyu’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you looked up, catching your panicked expression in the mirror as you’re glancing back at the door nervously.
“It didn’t fit…” you respond weakly, wincing at the way you can already see the shadow of Beomgyu’s footsteps approaching you. You bite at your lips, patting down the fabric as you glance at yourself once more— there is no way you would be allowed to wear something like this! And while it was flattering, you’d rather die than have others think that you truly were Beomgyu’s new plaything.
“Nonsense, it’s the same size as all the other dresses,” he says, knocking softly on the door, “let me see.”
“Definitely not,” you’re quick to respond, placing a hand on the door before Beomgyu can get any crazy ideas, “There’s no way something like this would be appropriate.”
“So it does fit,” he says, and he can hear you cursing quietly on the other side of the door, “you’d be surprised by the things others show up in— now let me see it.”
There’s no other way out of this, is there? You gulp, your hand slowly inching to the doorknob as you look away from the mirror, too embarrassed at the way the dress leaves you in a vulnerable position. Slowly, the door creeps open, and you find interest in the tiled floor beneath you as Beomgyu’s frame comes into sight.
It only takes a second for Beomgyu to decide— you’re leaving with this dress.
He tries to not show it, but his eyes darken at the way your body is left on display, your skin glowing under the lights and begging to be touched; to be marked. Your sheepish eyes that can barely look in his direction only serve to drive him insane— you have no idea what you’re doing to him.
“Let me see…” he mumbles, closing the door behind him as he takes a step closer to you. You gulp, startled at the way Beomgyu’s gaze never leaves your figure, his hands smoothing down the fabric on your waist— you’re still, your breathing heavy as you try to not melt into a flustered mess. His hands linger, fingertips pulling teasingly at the fabric before he lets it snap back onto your skin, watching the way your breath hitches as you finally look up at him.
“I think it fits you perfectly,” he breathes out, watching as you’re left helpless to him once more. You’re on edge, waiting for his next move as he smiles down at you, stepping forward until he’s got you pinned, his eyes narrowing at the way you shudder when your back meets the wall.
“Suits you perfectly too,” he says, reaching down to grab onto your bare thigh, watching the way you gasp as you let him wrap your leg around his waist. His fingers are teasing as they inch under the fabric, his touch light as he barely grazes past the top of your thigh. He’s slotted in between your legs, hips pressed firmly against yours as you try to not lose yourself then and there.
“It’s too revealing for a party,” you retaliate, your words falling dead on your tongue the moment he pressed himself harder against you— you can tell just how he feels about this dress.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he whispers, leaning closer to you as he begins to trail kisses down the column of your throat, “they can look all they want, but you’ll be with me the whole time. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
His grip on your thigh loosens up, and he’s pleased to find the way your leg doesn’t budge. Slowly, his hand trails downwards, stopping as his fingers wrap themselves around your calf, folding your leg closer to your body as your attention is brought to where he’s looking.
“But first, we should get you some shoes to go with this,” he says, the mischievous glint in his eyes prominent as he glances back at you, “Don’t you think?”
“I already have heels at home,” you breathe out, dizzy as Beomgyu pulls away, taking a step back as he composes himself. He stares at you, smiling as he takes in the way you’re still leaning against the wall, eyes fucked out as they stare back at him. It’s quick, and before you can react, Beomgyu is quickly pressing his lips against yours, the quick peck leaving you stunned as he opens the door, sending you one last glance as he smiles cruelly.
“Don’t care. Let’s go.”
☆♡☆
Tae :]
OMG
UR WHATKSGH
U A HOMIE HOPPER FR!!
Twin tho <3
Have fun!! And invite me if u can!!!!
You roll your eyes at the constant stream of messages that flood your phone— Sorry Tae, but there’s no way I’d have the balls to ask if you can come. It’s disappointing, but it was nothing short of the truth as Taehyung’s sad stream of emoticons continue to flood your chat, leaving you to roll your eyes and put the phone back down on the table.
Despite your constant reassurance and worrying, you currently found yourself in the guest room of Beomgyu’s mansion, forced to sit still as a woman tediously does your hair and makeup, listening to your tips on how to style your hair and what works best with your skin as she followed your instructions, constantly complimenting you as she continued to her work.
“This dress is absolutely gorgeous,” the woman said, gasping as she laid out the carefully ironed dress on the bed. You stood off to the side, bashfully shifting on your feet as you smiled at her, hoping that she wasn't’ simply lying through her teeth.
“I was afraid that it would be too much,” you admitted, watching her reaction carefully as you said so. She simply shook her head, laughing softly as she looked back at you.
“Too much? No, you’re going to fit right in,” she says, her comment oddly reassuring as she pulls out the matching black heels out of the other bag, followed by the expensive silver accessories that he forced you to get— despite your constant complaints that he shouldn’t be buying you anything, Beomgyu had ignored you, searching for the very best as he finally decided on those shoes. It was strange, but you found it easier to talk to Beomgyu as time went on— and maybe it was because of his stunt in the dressing rooms— but past his intimidating persona, you found that he wasn’t all bad. Granted, he was still a cheeky bastard that teased you relentlessly, but at least you now knew that he didn’t hate you.
“I’ll let Mr. Choi know that you’ll be ready soon,” the woman said, slipping out of the door without another word. You stood in silence, your heart beating loudly against your chest as you listened to the sounds that filtered from downstairs; the party had begun a while ago, and while you had been busy showering in the guest bathroom (it took you a while to accept that you were allowed to touch the thing) and getting your makeup and hair down, the celebration in the main floor had already begun.
Carefully, you slipped into the dress, feeling a twinge of hesitation as your eyes caught sight of the reflection in the mirror— you looked stunning, the dress you wore flattered your body perfectly, but you couldn’t help but feel that familiar anxiety bubbling inside you; this crowd was on another level. It was already hard enough for you to interact in large crowds of people in general, but the thought of putting yourself out there to be judged made you sick to your stomach.
If someone had told you from the past about the nosedive your life would take, you probably would have laughed, fainted, or both. What you had with Beomgyu (and Taehyun) was beyond messy. There was nothing defined, and you only seemed to act on your needs— and yet, you couldn’t help but feel lighter than ever. You were no longer walking on eggshells, but you feared that the longer you spent with these two men, the more you would get attached.
A knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts— speak of the devil.
The door opens as you mutter a soft “Come in”, your eyes downcast as you attempt to buckle your shoes, the thin straps slipping through your fingers as you sigh with frustration. Giving up, you sit back, looking up as you take in the outfit Beomgyu walks in.
It’s obvious at a glance that Beomgyu has made an attempt to match with you— he wears black pants that have been tailored specifically for him, his black heeled boots clicking softly on the floor as he walks in. He wears a black buttoned vest, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the way the neckline allows him to decorate with silver necklaces, his loose blazer allowing you to peek at the rest of his skin.
“What, you don’t like it?” He asks, tilting his head as he looks at you. You can only shake your head in response, a smile creeping on your lips as he closes the door behind him, walking up to you with the same smile mirrored on his lips. He towers over you, taking in the way you look up at him with your shining eyes, your dress sprawled out on the mattress as you lean back on your arms.
“No, it’s nice,” you admit, looking back down at your feet. He follows your gaze, a soft tsk escaping his lips as he takes in your unbuckled shoes. Without another word, he sinks to his knees, taking you by surprise as he kneels down, one leg propped up as he shoots you a mischievous smile.
“Can’t do anything yourself, hmm?” He coos, propping your heel on his thigh as he begins to buckle your strap. You’re left speechless as you watch him, his nimble fingers making quick work of the buckle as he tucks the strap in, putting your heeled foot back on the ground before he’s motioning for your other one. As always, he’s quick to lose patience as you hesitate, taking matters into his own hands as he grabs your calf, propping your other foot on his thigh as he begins his work once more.
He’s much slower this time, and when you feel him finish buckling your strap, you watch as his eyes rake up your leg, taking in the way the fabric is slotted between your legs so perfectly. Your skin is warm underneath his hands, and before he can help himself, he’s making his way up, his hands soon finding themselves on your thighs as he looks up at you, face emotionless as you find it in yourself to look back, bracing yourself for his next move.
You can’t help the way you lean in when his lips meet yours, the kiss slow and steady as you surprise yourself— but with the way he was feeling you up, it was impossible to not give in. It’s embarrassing how you quickly find yourself chasing after his lips, the low chuckle that meets your ears snapping you back to reality as you’re straightening up.
“The dress is nice, right?” He says, his hands continuing to slide up before they’re slotted on either side of you, alarming you when he begins to lean forward. You lean back, flustered by his proximity as he continues, relentless in his actions as he’s soon hovering over you, eyeing the way you look laying on the bed, flustered face refusing to look up at him for too long.
“I can’t possibly go out like this,” you say weakly, admiring the way his hair framed his face, a smug smile adorning his face at your words.
“No, you can’t,” he says, agreeing with you for once. His words surprise you, but takes you a moment to realize his true intentions, “so why don’t you stay in here with me instead?”
“No. Plus, your parents—”
“Why not? It’ll be way more fun than the party. My parents aren’t even here. They’re still off vacationing in Japan.”
“Beomgyu, this is your party. You’re the host,” you say, sliding back along the bed until you’re fully on it. Beomgyu doesn’t mind, finding the sight much more appealing as his head is now at level with your hips. But before he can continue his teasing, you’re pushing him back with your foot, his body tensing as the sharp stiletto comes in contact with his chest once he straightens. He raises his brows, a hot rush of want going through him as you send him a coy smile.
“Let’s go then.”
☆♡☆
The party was alright.
Throughout the whole night, you had been afraid of being seen as another arm candy for Beomgyu— you had been afraid that all this had been nothing more than a game to him. But as the night passed by, you found yourself enjoying his presence more and more.
“That woman right there? She had an affair with the guy from earlier— yeah, the one who hogged all the little sandwiches— for like a year. One time, they apparently went “missing” when the jet they were both conveniently on crashed, but it turns out they just went for a nice vacation for a couple of months.”
“Oh my god, that’s insane,” you gape, trying to not be obvious as you watch the woman Beomgyu had pointed out. You could definitely see it, with the way she kept stealing glances back at the said man that lingered at the buffet table. “But how did they get away with it?”
“Money, duh,” he says, watching as you roll your eyes at his response, “there’s nothing that a good chunk of money can’t do to keep people quiet.”
“And yet you know about this?”
“Hey, rumors get around,” Beomgyu shrugs, sending you a teasing smile as he adds, “that, and he’s a total lightweight.”
It’s like this for the rest of the night— the two of you never truly bother to integrate with the rest of the crowd, standing off to the side as you watch the occasional businessman approach Beomgyu, bewildered at the charming persona that he takes on when spoken to. It’s not until a man mentions Beomgyu inheriting the company in the future, that a thought occurs to you.
“Do you really want to take over your father’s company?” You ask, watching the way he stiffens at your question. He doesn’t answer, choosing instead to drink his wine as he looks away, his brows furrowed at the feeling of your gaze still on him.
“No, honestly.” He answers, his words catching you by surprise as you take in the solemn look in his eyes. He’s not looking at you, and as you follow his line of sight, you realize with dread, that his eyes had been locked on none other than Taehyun.
“But that’s all I’m here for,” he says, taking another sip of his drink as he notices that you’ve spotted him too. He can‘t control the way he becomes irritated, jaw clenching as the memories of his life pass by— the competition, the tension, the secret hopes that he’ll be the better son— it’s all shoved back in his face every time he looks back at Taehyun.
Just when you think you’re about to get somewhere deeper with this conversation, you notice the way everyone seems to be heading in the direction of the dining room, the feeling of Beomgyu bumping into your shoulder making you look up at him in confusion.
“Dinner is starting. Come,” he says, not bothering to glance back before he’s leading you to the same room where it all began. You find yourself lagging behind as you watch him walk ahead, the feeling that you’ve done something wrong itching at you— was it a touchy subject? Did you say something wrong?
“___? Why’re you here?” The voice that calls out to you is too familiar, rendering you helpless as you’re turning to the source. Taehyun is surprised as he looks at you, eyes taking in your figure and the way your silver accessories pop against your skin. He’s dressed in similar attire to Beomgyu, much to your dread. A simple all black outfit, a form fitting turtleneck paired with a blazer, the tailored pants he wore covering the same heeled boots that Beomgyu sported as well.
“Oh, uhm, Beomgyu invited me,” you reply, unaware of the way the said man stands a few feet behind you, his eyes narrowing at the scene. Taehyun notices, and it isn’t long before you’re turning around, curious to what he might be looking at. Beomgyu is angry, that much you can tell, as he slowly makes his way to where the two of you stand.
Turning back around, you send Taehyun a confused look, tilting your head as you ask, “Where have you been?”
“Ah, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Taehyun apologizes, sheepishly looking to the ground as he says, “I was off in Japan. You know, the new partnership and all.”
“Yes, quite the feat, isn’t it,” Beomgyu mocks behind you, startling you as you feel his hand slip around your waist, pulling you into him snuggly as he adds, “___, let’s go, before all the good seats get taken.”
And before you can question what the hell he might possibly mean by a “good seat,” you’re being pulled away, the man’s pace much more brisk as Taehyun is left to watch your figure retreat, your matching color schemes not lost on his eyes.
☆♡☆
You know exactly what Beomgyu means by a good seat.
Glancing wearily at the loud, gossiping couple across the table, followed by the man who simply doesn’t know what manners are as he takes up way more space than he should, you’re glad that Beomgyu had been able to secure you a calmer spot in the gigantic table. It was nice, except for one thing— Taehyun had found himself in the seat to the right of you before you realized what was happening.
So now you sit here, awkwardly trying your best to eat peacefully as the tension between the two boys rolls off in waves. Any attempts in peacemaking or casual conversation had been quickly squashed down, leaving you in the middle of a lifelong feud that only left you roped into childish rivalry.
It started off simple— they could’ve gotten away with it if you hadn’t been paying more attention— small conversation, laced with memories and inside jokes the other didn’t know of; you were left unaware of the other’s raging jealousy every time you laughed at a situation they couldn’t recall.
Then it turned into a more zealous task; before you knew it, you were turning left and right as they tried to feed and entertain you, begging for your attention yet refusing to share it as you were left in a befuddled mess. In the blink of an eye, your plate was piled with more food than you knew what to do with, your head spinning from the amount of turning you’ve had to do in such a short time.
It couldn’t get any worse— at least, that’s what you thought— but it could. And it did.
You could feel your mood sour as they began to become bolder, and touchier. Any other time, you would have been freaking out, a flustered mess as you would have shivered at the way they would lean in to whisper things to you, fingertips grazing against your skin and eyes lingering on your body every time you tried to interact with them.
Honestly, by the end of the dinner, they were practically fighting for your attention as they tried anything they could to woo you— all you could do was take another swig of wine in exhaustion.
You liked them both— really, you did— but you were more than fed up of being treated as another prize that the other had to win first in order to prove they’re better. What had started as interactions that left your heart fluttering had turned into nothing more than a childish competition that only served to drive them farther away from your heart.
And it seems as though they had noticed too; took them long enough, you had thought to yourself, laying back in your chair as you tried to pretend the way you couldn’t feel their eyes on you. You were annoyed and buzzed from the wine as you feigned interest in the desert placed before you, twirling your fork in boredom as you waited for their next ridiculous move.
Instead, you were pleasantly surprised with the way they seemed to calm down; maybe your annoyance was obvious. And it really was, because as you stared down at your plate, Taehyun and Beomgyu could practically see your change in mood from miles away, the irritation pouring off you in waves as you shoved another disinterested bite into your mouth.
Taehyun was already regretting everything— he felt horrible for roping you into their own problems. Beomgyu, on the other hand, was simply thinking up of the different ways he could make it up to you. They watched as you leaned forward, reaching across the table as the lady sitting in front of the three of you refilled your glass; throughout the whole ordeal, you had become friends with her. Her name was Jihyo, and it seemed as if she was quick to catch on to your situation as she tried to keep your glass full the whole time.
The two of you chatted as you continued to ignore the presence of the two boys beside you, laughing softly as she told you the story on how she met her girlfriend. You could practically feel them itching to grab your attention once more, but you couldn’t care less as you decided to take your mind off of them for once.
And while you continued to get to know Jihyo better, Taehyun and Beomgyu shared a glance behind you; and for once, it seemed as though they had reached the same conclusion.
Moments later, the dinner was declared to be over, and you watched drunkenly as people began to trickle out slowly. You waited a second before you excused yourself, saying goodbye to Jihyo as you headed back upstairs and towards the guest room— you didn’t even bother sparing the two boys another glance as you left.
Yet they simply watched your figure retreat, their eyes stuck on the way you seemed to stand out from the crowd; they both silently appreciated the way the dress seemed to hug you in all the right places. It wasn’t until you had left the dining room that they had turned to each other, words itching to come out as they sat there, unsure of how to say them.
“Well, I should be on my way as well,” it was the first time Jihyo had spoken to them that night, sending them a gracious smile and bowing as she thanked the two for inviting them.
“Good luck with your girl. Treat her nicely, yeah? She deserves it after the way you two harassed her tonight,” she teased, clearly uninterested in their rebuttals as she turned on her heel, striding out in confident steps, her words still lingering on the boy’s minds.
☆♡☆
You were so ready to go home.
You currently sat at the vanity as you spoke on the phone with Taehyung, ranting to him about everything that happened as you wiped away your makeup, your glasses put to the side as you tried to not get frustrated with the way your mascara couldn’t seem to budge.
“So I just ignored them and talked to Jihyo for the rest of the time— she’s super cool by the way,” you said, recounting every little detail as you carefully rubbed the lipstick on your lips.
“Oh man, that’s crazy,” Taehyung’s voice rings out from the other side, and you pause in your actions as you turn to throw away the used wipes, humming along in agreement as you did so. “What’re you gonna do now?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, sighing as you slump down in your chair. “it’s just… it feels like they only see me as another win in their rivalry— it sucks, cause I really do like them.”
“Them? Seriously? Woah, you’re in deep.”
“Argh, I know, and it’s pissing me off!” You say, frustrated as you stand, making your way to the bed as you flop onto it, your feet dangling off the edge as you stare up at the ceiling, “Why me man…”
“Hey, I say go for it! Literally who gives a fuck who you’re with, as long as you’re happy.”
“Tae, that’s insane,” you say, unable to see yourself doing anything like that, “Whatever. I’ll be home in a bit.”
“Take an Uber, I’ll pay for it,” he interjects, ignoring the way you’re already complaining, “Unless you want to ask either of them to drop you off, since you don’t have your car.”
“Okay, I got it,” you grumble, bitter at the reminder, “I’ll text you when I’m ready to go.”
You sat in silence once he hung up, feeling the exhaustion from it all finally sinking in, the mattress beneath you suddenly much more comfortable than it was three seconds ago. Wearily, you glance back at the pile of clothes that you still needed to change back into; but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, much too tired to get up at all— hell, you still had yet to take your heels off.
Just when you thought you might actually doze off, you were startled as the sound of your door opening made you sit up, your eyes meeting with Beomgyu’s as he stood at the doorway.
“Can I come in?” He asked, leaning against the doorway as he asked.
“No,” you deadpan, pouting as you stare down at your lap.
“What about me?”
You’re surprised to find Taehyun standing behind Beomgyu, the usual tension and anger that you see between them gone. You pause for a second, feeling uneasy as you stare at them— they’re planning something.
“No. Both of you stay there.”
Flopping back onto the bed, you wait for them to give up and go away, but they don’t. They simply stand at the doorway, fondly watching you and the slow rise and fall of your chest as you try to not fall asleep then and there.
“Is this about what happened at the dinner?” It’s Beomgyu who breaks the silence first, tilting his head as he watches the way you try to ignore them, your eyes closed as you pretend to be asleep. It’s silent once more, and you can’t help the way you get your hopes up briefly at the sound of the door shutting, thinking that they might’ve finally left you alone— you couldn’t have been more wrong.
You can feel the bed shifting, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you try to keep your eyes closed. They find the sight amusing, your fluttering eyelids and your twitching brows letting them know that you can feel them next to you. It’s dark, but you can feel the foreign warmth of another as the mattress sinks down, the scent of two familiar colognes filling your senses entirely.
“___. Look at me,” your eyes are wide as you’re met with the sight of Taehyun hovering over you, arms caging you in, Beomgyu sitting down next to you as he looks down at you teasingly. You’re not sure what to do, unable to handle both of them at once— it was already hard enough to deal with one at a time.
“What do you guys want,” you whine, flushing with embarrassment as they each take your hand, unable to meet either of their eyes as they lace their fingers with yours. It’s beyond overwhelming, the two handsome men crowding your space as they continue to tease you. You can feel Beomgyu’s lips graze your knuckles, the soft touch sending shivers down your body.
“What do you think?” Beomgyu asks, playing with your hands gingerly as he pauses. You’re forced to sit up as Taehyun moves away, sandwiched between the two boys as they sit by your side, still having yet to let go of your hand as they lean in.
“We want you.” Beomgyu’s lips practically brush against your skin as he whispers those words, the feeling of Taehyun’s hair brushing against your cheek making you tilt your head, gulping at the way he’s trailing kisses down your neck, biting softly at your collarbones.
“No you don’t,” you say, eyes shutting as you feel their hands begin to wander— it feels like they’re everywhere at once, touching your thighs, lingering at your waist, going up and down the expanse of your back as they feel you up— it makes you dizzy.
“I’m just another part of your rivalry,” you say, the words that have been bubbled in your mind finally coming out— you never felt truly wanted. “I’m just a game to you two.”
“Fuck, you’re so much more than that,” you’re surprised to hear Beomgyu be the one to reassure you first, his hand cupping your cheek as he forces you to look at him. He’s serious, his face devoid of any sign that it might all be a lie. Taehyun is quick to agree, pulling away as he looks at you, a hand wrapping around your waist as he brings himself even closer.
“We don’t want to lose you,” Taehyun says, voice quiet as he finally admits the thoughts that have been plaguing the two men before you, “We’re serious, ___.”
There’s no use in fighting it— you know this, because soon you’re finding yourself laying back on the bed, the two boys unable to keep their hands off of you as they find your heels, each unbuckling one as they smile coyly up at you.
“Show me how serious you are then,” you’re barely given time to breathe those words out before they’re on you, Beomgyu’s lips crashing against yours as you let out a soft whimper, your hands steadying themselves on his shoulders automatically.
It’s all happening so fast, your mind reeling as your hands slip under Beomgyu’s blazer, slipping it off as he’s left in the vest that had you practically drooling, his necklaces dangling above you. He’s not giving you a chance to pull away, the kiss hungry as he nips at your lips, grinning at the way you whimper helplessly against him. Beside you, Taehyun watches, eyes darkened as he slips off his own blazer, the memory of you in his bedroom making him itch for your touch.
Much to your dismay, Beomgyu is pulling away, a wicked grin stretching on his face as he watches you chase after him, your eyes slowly fluttering open as you wait for their next move. Slowly, you reach up to unbutton Beomgyu’s vest, his eyes observing your every movement intently. His skin is smooth and toned, your eyes taking it all in as you run a hand down his chest, watching the way he shudders at your touch. Sitting up, you move to try to slide your dress off, surprised when you feel Taehyun grab your hand before you can do so.
“Don’t. Keep it on for now,” he says, pulling you close to him as he locks his lips with yours, cradling your jaw gently, “It looks so good on you.”
You can only hum against his mouth, giving in to his wishes as you feel his other hand wander its way to your thighs. Before you can realize what’s happening, Beomgyu is already slotted in between your legs, his hair tickling your skin as he trails kisses along your inner thighs. You’re quick to tense up, caught off guard by his action as you feel him slowly inch closer to where you need him most.
“I can’t believe you,” Beomgyu says, pushing the fabric of your dress away from your hips as your core is left on display. You whimper feeling his tongue run over the fabric of your panties teasingly, his warm tongue lapping at you slowly.
“This whole time, I thought I was getting somewhere with you,” he mumbles, pressing his tongue flat on your pussy as he takes in the way your thighs twitch at the feeling, sucking lewdly over the fabric, “but it turns out you were fucking around with Taehyun behind my back.”
You’re hazy as Taehyun is leading your hand down his chest, his shirt discarded long ago as he guides you to unbuckle his belt, chuckling at the way you can only obey stupidly, Beomgyu’s tongue on you already making you fucked out.
“I just thought you didn’t care,” you say, eyes locking with Taehyun’s as you’re finally able to reach into his waistband, taking in the way he inhales sharply once your hand wraps around his cock. Your other hand is quick to unbutton his jeans, pulling him out as your hungry eyes take in the way he’s already hard, his tip leaking as you both watch the way you slowly begin to pump along his length, your thumb swiping across his tip from time to time.
He’s big, and you’re surprised with the way your hand struggles to wrap around him— your movements are slow, taking in the feel of the vein that runs along the underside of his length; he’s long too, and it’s like in a trance as he’s watching the way you stroke him eagerly, your tongue laving at your lips a you notice the steady flow of precum that leaves him.
“I didn’t at first,” he admits, brain clouding with lust as he watches the way you pump Taehyun’s cock, the said man falling apart in your hands as he leans in to kiss you. He can feel himself grow more aroused at the sight, his hips rolling involuntarily against the sheets as the need to bring your attention back to him itches at him. Your mouth is falling open as Beomgyu’s lips wrap around your clit, your panties pushed to the side as he sucks on the bundle of nerves, his fingers circling your hole teasingly.
“But I do now. I care a lot.”
Choi Beomgyu was never one to get attached— so for him to be looking up at you the way he did, like he never wanted to be apart from you again, made your heart flutter unexpectedly.
He was messy as he lapped at your pussy, reveling in every little gasp and whimper that escaped your lips. Taehyun was just as much of a mess as you were, the kiss turning into something more primal and messy as you increased your pace, feeling him fucking your hand as he moaned against your lips, your other hand entangled in his hair as you kept him close to you.
The two found it amusing at the way you gasped once Beomgyu’s fingers pushed inside you, taking in the way your sensitive body responded to every one of their touches. His tongue is relentless, going back and forth from sucking and licking your clit, to lapping at your soaked cunt. He’s intense, building up your orgasm quickly as he keeps your hips planted to the bed, his hands gripping onto the skin as he watches the way you weakly attempt to buck your hips into his face as he continues to fuck you with his tongue.
Taehyun watches as you quickly lose your pace, your hand stilling on his cock as he watches you get closer to your high with an amused glint in his eye. You’re begging and pleading for more, head thrown back as Taehyun slides down the straps of your dress, pulling the top down until he has access to your breasts. The added stimulation of his mouth on your nipples has you crashing down from your high, the waves of pleasure that roll over you much too intense as you slump down into the fluffy pillows of the bed.
“Good girl,” Taehyun mumbles, leaving your nipple with a lewd “pop!” that has you flushing with embarrassment. Between your legs, Beomgyu sits up, his chin glistening from your juices as he watches the way you look away from the scene, grinning at the way you turn shy.
“Don’t get all shy on me,” he says, squishing your cheeks as he forces you to look back at him, finding that he’s released himself from the confines of his pants. “You still have some problems to take care of.”
Before you can catch on to what he wants, he’s taking your hands, pulling you to sit up before he’s positioning you to his liking— his lidded eyes look down at you as you try to not show how flustered you are, face leveled with his cock as you’re left on all fours, your ass in the air as you feel the bed shifting behind you.
“What are you waiting for?” He asked, tapping two fingers under your chin as you look up at him, doe eyes shining sweetly as he resists the urge to take you for himself then and there, “suck.”
He can tell that you’re unsure of your actions as you start, the feeling of your warm tongue swiping teasingly across his tip making him grab ahold of your head, groaning at the way you allow him to guide you down his length.
Behind you, Taehyun watches darkly as you slowly take Beomgyu into your mouth, your glistening pussy all his as he begins to tease your entrance slowly. He takes in every movement, every sound, every reaction that you give him as he slowly pushes in, listening to the way you moan shamelessly against Beomgyu’s cock from the stretch.
He’s taking his time with you, giving experimental thrusts as he takes note of every movement that has you squealing against Boemgyu’s cock, the vibrations only serving for the man to let out a low hiss as he tightens his grip on your hair, a smug arrogance taking over him as you let him fuck his dick into your mouth freely.
You’re caught between the two as they use you for their pleasure, rocking back and forth with every slow thrust that Taehyun delivers. His pace is brutal as he grinds into you, matching the rhythm Beomgyu has set as the two watch you fall apart at the stimulation.
“Our little slut looks so good like this, doesn’t she?” Beomgyu says, grinning up at Taehyun as the words slip through his lips like second nature. “Taking us both like a good little cock whore.”
“Fuck, you feel so good princess,” the contrast of the two’s words makes you dizzy, the constant back and forth of praise and degradation making you stupid in the head as you’re left to nod at their every comment. You’re a mess of drool and tears as you let Beomgyu use you like his personal cock sleeve, fucking up into your mouth freely as he watches the tears stream freely from your eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Taehyun grunts, positioning his hips harshly into yours as you rock back into Beomgyu’s cock, not needing to do anything at all as you let them control your every movement.
“And all ours.” Beomgyu adds, wiping your tears away as he grins down at you, the feeling of your throat swallowing around him making him stutter in his pace.
It’s insane, and in no time, the coil in your stomach is getting ready to snap as Taehyun’s pace begins to get faster, the feeling of your warm walls fluttering around him driving him closer to his high as well. His grip on your hips is brutal, and you’re falling apart the moment he finds your clit, a long whine escaping you as you allow Beomgyu to continue to fuck your mouth. They can’t take their eyes off you, watching your every move as your mouth sinks down on Beomgyu’s cock, stilling on his length as you’re left to be nothing more than a fucktoy as Taehyun chases after his own pleasure.
Beomgyu pulls you off of him, pulling your head up as he smiles as your fucked out face, your eyes glossy and mouth left open as Taehyun keeps thrusting into you, the sensitivity leaving you a whimpering mess. He’s in awe at the string of saliva that remains connected to his tip, your tongue left out in display lewdly as you allow Beomgyu to smack his dick on it.
“That’s it, take it,” Beomgyu says, watching as you whimper weakly at his words, “you like being our little fucktoy, hmm?”
He laughs at the way you nod helplessly, not fully processing his words as you feel Taehyun still inside you, a broken moan escaping your lips as he pulls you back into him, hips fitting snugly against yours as he cums inside, filling you to the brim as he bottoms out. His voice is heavenly as he lets out a soft moan, a string of praise leaving his mouth in stark contrast to the filth that Beomgyu continues to spew.
It takes a moment before Taehyun finally pulls out, eyes stuck on the way his cum begins to leak out of you, not thinking twice before he’s gathering the substance in his fingers and pushing it back in, ignoring the shake in your legs and the overstimulated sounds that leave your lips.
“Such a pretty sight,” Beomgyu sighs out, pushing you on your back as he immediately slots himself between your legs, watching the way your pussy is beginning to leak Taehyun’s cum once more. He grabs ahold of your thigh, wrapping the leg around his waist as he’s pushing in, the stretch much more different than Taehyun’s— unlike Taehyun, he was much girthier, leaving you to throw your head back at the feeling. It’s easier for him to slip inside, the feeling of Taehyun’s cum still inside you making the two of you groan, the wet noises that come from your cunt enough to make you embarrassed for days.
And unlike Taehyun, Beomgyu is quick to chase after what he wants; his pace is ruthless as he pounds against you, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room and drowning out the sounds that slip from your lips. He’s mean, whispering filthy things into your ear as he towers over you, his necklaces smacking against your face as your hands are wrapped around him, hugging him close to you as the hot feeling of pleasure strikes through you once more.
Carelessly, your hand reaches up to lace itself in Beomgyu’s hair, tugging at it on a particularly harsher thrust, watching as his head is tugged back, an unabashed moan slipping past him. His scalp stings at the feeling, but he couldn’t care less as he watches you become a mess over his cock, your other hand reaching out to grasp Taehyun’s as you listen to his soft reassurance and praise.
The two are enamoured by you, watching the way you react to their words, your body tensing as the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching you appears again. Beomgyu can feel the moment you fall apart under his touch, the feeling of your walls squeezing and pumping against him making him follow after you, burying his head in your neck as he fills you up as well, biting your shoulder and lapping at your skin as he begins to leave marks. You’re a panting, sweaty mess as you lay there, the two boys collapsed next to you as you’re left in the middle, the feeling of Beomgyu having yet to pull out making you clench involuntarily around him.
“Do that again and you won’t be walking for the next week,” Beomgyu grumbles against your skin, Taehyun leaving to go to the bathroom as he comes back with a damp towel, urging the two of you to get cleaned up, much to Beomgyu’s dismay. It takes a while, but you’re able to be pulled away from Beomgyu’s arms as they watch the way their cum begins to leak out of you, spilling over your thighs and the sheets as you try to pretend you don’t see the way their gaze turns primal at the sight— you find yourself sandwiched between the two men once more, small gasps and squeals leaving you as they both take turns shoving the liquid back inside, their mouths on each side of your neck as they leave marks that they’ll no doubt be teasing you about later.
They don’t stop until you’re a crying and shaking mess, pleading softly for them to go easy on you as they finally let you go, finding yourself freshening up in the bathroom a few moments later. You’re dressed in nothing but a t-shirt that they let you borrow— you’re not sure whose it is, but you remember hearing them fight about it just outside the bathroom door. And as you place your phone back down, deciding to leave it on do not disturb for the rest of the night, you’re happy to find that the two have left a spot empty for you on the bed, looking at you expectantly the moment you come outside.
They refuse to let you go for the rest of the night, even when you complain that it’s getting stuffy— all they can do is hold onto you tighter, smiling at the way you always inevitably give in to their wishes.
I’m sleeping over :)
That was the last thing Taehyung had received from your phone before he completely lost contact with you.
Tae :]
WHAT
YOU DID NOT…
OMG U BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING TMMRW
UR SO LUCKY AUGH
☆♡☆
In your campus, three mysteries swarmed the minds of those who attended— except you, of course.
The rumors about your professors were false; it had been started on a simple misconception after a student had seen the two out together one night— they didn’t hook up, but the messy divorce definitely did happen.
Two, there was nothing that special in the library's super secret prohibited section; well, usually there wasn’t. It was filled with important documents, no doubt, but you’re sure that any student wouldn’t pay much attention to the files— their eyes would instead fall on the shocking sight that they would be met with.
“How long have you— ah— been allowed back here—?”
“Just recently,” Beomgyu grins, watching as you’re pliant and eager to the two’s touch, the feeling of Taehyun’s hand slipping past your waistband and working its usual magic making you weak in the knees. They’re as annoying as ever, wrapped around your finger as they try and fail to keep their hands off you, their new shared interest dissolving any tension that may have remained.
Working together doesn’t seem that bad now— seeing as they’ve found only success whenever they’re messing with you, flustering and teasing you like they were born to do so.
Oh, and the third and final mystery; you would never have to worry about it. Because as Beomgyu’s soft lips met yours, the feeling of Taehyun sucking gently on the empty canvas of your skin doing nothing to keep you calm, you had no doubt that you weren’t a part of some sick game anymore.
They were here to stay, and they made sure to show it to you any chance they got.
Taglist:♡ @strawbrinkofdeath @bergandysam @hyukalovie @alienqbrain @jkprkerz @she-is-dreaming ♡
#txt fanfic#txt fanfiction#txt imagines#txt oneshots#txt ff#tomorrow x together#txt x reader#txt x y/n#txt x you#txt reader#fanfic#fanfiction#reader insert#txt au#beomgyu smut#taehyun smut#kpop imagines#kpop x reader#kpop fanfic#kpop oneshots#txt smut#kpop smut#txt angst#txt fluff#beomgyu ff#taehyun ff
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Bbbbbrrrrrr ok how about some toxic relationship headcanons (mayhaps w make up sex?) forr Sukuna, Toji, Geto, Megumi if you accept multiples otherwise I'm be happy w/ whichever you'd rather write for !
Since it’s four characters I’ll write one big headcanon for each ♥️
⚠️ warnings: toxic/abusive relationships, smut, dark content, gaslighting, mentions of violence (not directed at reader), fem!reader, crying, make-up sex, possessive/jealous behavior
💕 toji: the absent gaps of your relationship makes you more anxious than you’d care to admit. Toji is there one day, showering you with love, with the most amazing sex, and then he’s gone for the next couple of months like you were nothing but a good time. You only know he’s alive when he shows up again at your door, dirty and needy, and takes your body like it’s his second nature — he always takes and takes, but never gives. He uses your house, eats your food, shatters your heart and leaves without an explanation. Toji fucks you deep, possessively, with the tone of a man who is used to violence, and you can do nothing but allow him to take it. “You’re all mine, pretty girl,” he mumbles one night, and you’re not sure you believe it. You ask him to stay, like you always do, but he ignores it — like he always does. “If I ever see you with someone else… fuck, I’ll kill him on the spot. You’re all fucking mine.”
💕sukuna: like the certainty that the sun will rise again tomorrow, he’s sure that you’re going to be his forever — so for you to dare (try) to break up with him… well, that just goes against everything he has planned. All the years by your side gone, crumbling to dust, because you think you know better than he does. Sukuna makes sure you’re going to remember this, that you’re not going to try anything funny again because: “You’re fucking mine forever, you understand? You’re the air that I fucking breathe,” He says, groaning as you clamp around him, tears staining your eyelashes. You’re broken down underneath him, whining and apologizing, but he doesn’t care. You have to learn. “Don’t you ever leave me again, baby, because I’m not letting you get away. Ever.”
💕getou: there’s a bloody, metallic taste on your mouth as he kisses you when he gets home, and you never ask why. You know Getou gets into fights sometimes, and he tells you they’re all because of you. He tells you that he hates the guys at your work, hates that you talk to other men — because he’s everything you’ll ever need — and hates that you flirt (yes, flirt) with them. Like they’d ever have a chance with you. Getou always says that you’re too slutty, even if you cover up, even if you promise you won’t talk to anyone else. Then he says you’re just pretty and stupid, that you don’t know what you do to people. “But I’ll protect you forever, princess,” he says, and you know from the blood on his face that he’s serious about it. “Just never forget who you belong to.”
💕 megumi: he’s quiet and direct with you, and that is a double-edged blade when it comes to Megumi. Sometimes, it’s good to know what he’s thinking, no secrets between you two, but then you step out of line and Megumi makes sure that you remember his words forever. “You know you’re going to be alone without me, right? No one is going to deal with your whiny, dramatic behavior like I do.” He speaks calmly like the wind, but it hurts, it hurts so bad that you cry and ask him to leave you alone. You don’t even know what you did wrong, but he doesn’t care to answer. “Quit it. I’m just being honest, not my fault you’re so annoying. Come here.” And you do. You always fall into his arms, into his bed, because it’s the only place of comfort that he allows you to have.
#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu megumi#Megumi#Toji#getou#sukuna#sukuna smut#Megumi x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#Toji smut#getou smut#angst#jjk angst#x reader#x you
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Plz can you write a jimin smut fanfic play boy au
"What is it about Park Jimin?" | Park Jimin
pairing: jimin x f.reader (guest appearance jk... but through text)
genre: smut MDNI
requested by: @jimincrystal
wc: 1.6k
summary: you have a problem... your neighbour jimin is too loud, but you are terribly attracted to him
warnings: pet names (jimin calls reader "pretty girl"), mentions of jimin being into girls and boys, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (don't pls), cursing... lmk if I forgot anything.
✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚
“Hi,” his full lips curve into the flirtiest of smiles.
“Oh, hi,” your tiny voice answers. Dammit, what was it about him anyway?
He leans on the wall as you try not to look nervous. But who are we kidding? When you moved into this flat two months ago, all you could do was think about your next-door neighbour. It was hard not to, he often had “visitors” to entertain him, especially at night. You could hear through the very thin walls how much fun they would have. The exquisite moans he would get from the gorgeous girls and boys who were lucky enough to spend a night with him.
You, on the other hand, are too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Not after hearing everything that happens on the other side of that wall. Not after reaching for your vibrator multiple times…
“I think it’s about time I introduced myself,” he extends his hand and for the first time since he started talking, you look up.
Ashy blonde hair frames his beautiful complexion. Brown eyes, staring right into yours, and his smile so beautiful, so inviting, it made your knees tremble. Before your knees gave in, you shook his hand.
“I’m Jimin.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m–”
“I know, the prettiest girl in the building,” he kisses the back of your hand after whispering your name which makes you hot with wanton.
Jimin knows perfectly the effect he has on people, but seeing the effect he has on you is different. The way your breath seems now heavier, your lips parted in shock, and oh your smell is so deliciously intoxicating. He can’t wait to have you.
“See you around, pretty girl,” he walks to his door and you can’t even think straight.
Nighttime comes and you find yourself eating a bowl of cereal and rewatching your favourite show. All of a sudden, you hear a loud thud on the wall, which immediately breaks your concentration. You pause the show and of course, you already know what it is.
“Fuck! Just like that! Yes, yes!” you hear the muffled cries on the other side of the wall. When is this going to end? Should you say something?
You pace back and forth in front of your door, trying to make a decision and in your two seconds of braveness, you gather the courage to walk next door. Your hand is about to knock when the door opens.
“Oh!” the gorgeous girl exclaims. Beautiful dark skin, hazel eyes, and long legs. “See you around, Jimin.” She walks past you.
Jimin waves goodbye and his eyes land on you. Flower-pattern pyjamas, fuzzy slippers, messy hair.
“Is something wrong, pretty?”
“I– you should try to keep it down…” you try not to look at his bare chest and his tattoo on display. Oh, the way you would lick–
“So you can hear through the wall,” he sounds surprised as if he couldn’t believe his plan worked.
“Yes, and please… next time I would appreciate it if you, and your visitors, were a little bit less– you know,”
“What if you are next? Would you keep it down?”
“Excuse me?”
He laughs, and you can tell he is enjoying this.
“Good night, pretty. I love your pyjamas by the way,” he winks at you and closes the door.
After a couple of days without seeing, or hearing, Jimin, you start to wonder if showing up like that outside his door was too much. You don’t want to overthink, but for you, it is important to have at least a decent relationship with your neighbours.
It isn’t until after work that day that you come back to your flat and find a note on your door.
I have no right, but I need a favour. Dinner at 8? I’ll bring everything. Btw, you’re gorgeous.
Can't wait,
Jimin x
Fuck.
You thought about not welcoming Jimin, after all, he is a stranger. But something about him just made you want to open yourself to him. Yes, you wanted him, so when he knocked on your door, you were already dolled up. You looked effortlessly put together. When Jimin came in and took a look at you, he scanned you up and down.
“I knew it, the prettiest girl in the building… prettiest girl in the world,” he brought food and wine for both of you. It smelled really good and tasted even better.
“So what is this about?”
“First of all, thank you. My friend is visiting, so we’ve been going around the city these last few days– and now he met this girl… and you know, he wanted to invite her over before he leaves,” he laughs, sipping his wine.
“Oh… I see,” you look down, trying to mask the awkwardness.
“Also, I wanted to apologise for the— noise.”
“It’s okay, apology accepted,” you smile. Jimin is way more friendly than you thought. He is easy to talk to, funny, and interesting. You can see why he has so many people fall for his charms.
And then you both hear it– moaning so loud you could think there was some adult movie being filmed next door. It was intense, the skin slapping, muffled but clear enough to know what it was.
Jimin turns to look at you, and he can’t help but laugh.
“Oh pretty girl, this is what you were talking about–”
“Oh no, this is worse,” you cover your ears but end up laughing at Jimin’s expression.
“What, do you think they could hear us from this side?”
Your eyes widen and you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but now that the wine is in your system, you want Jimin even more.
“I think so,” once again your tiny voice comes out.
“Let me kiss you,” Jimin leans in and waits, so you pull him in.
His lips are soft as you expect them to be, but his tongue is the root of all sin. It tastes so good against yours, teasing and sucking your bottom lip. He is hooked on the way you kiss him back, creating a dependence on the little moans you give him, enjoying every little second of such a passionate kiss. Your hands go to the back of his neck, lips locking with each other again and again, causing your arousal to start pooling between your legs. Fuck, what is it about Park Jimin?
The moans can still be heard next door, but you don’t mind anymore as pieces of clothing are forgotten on the floor.
“Shit– you’re fucking gorgeous, look at these tits,” he sucks and kisses your nipples, worshipping them as his fingers gather your arousal.
His tongue circles your hard nipple as one of his fingers slides into you. You let out a long, pleading moan. You wanted this, for so fucking long you wanted him. The way your back is arched gives him better access to you. So now you are under his control, he fucked you with his finger as his precum leaked off his cock. What a fucking sight.
Another finger goes in, and in your desperate state to cum, you reach to your clit and start playing with it just like you like it.
“Is that how you played with yourself while eavesdropping on what was going on next door, pretty?” he asks, but you can’t answer. You are too lost in this raw, filterless feeling of sheer pleasure.
Jimin slides his fingers out of you, making you cry in disbelief, you were so close.
“I wanna have you right there, against the wall.”
So with your hands against the wall and your back bent forward, he holds to your hips and aligns with your entrance. His cock thick and veiny enters you with ease. His hips snap into yours, and he pulls your head up by your hair.
“Tell me pretty, how good does it feel?”
“So–so… aaahhh, so good,” you cry, you moan. His cock is deep inside you, hitting just the right spot. It’s better than good. He has devil cock and you are sure gonna sin again and again for it.
“You have no idea how many times I dreamt of having you like this… Every fucking time I wondered if you could hear me from here… your pussy is fucking perfect.”
And it was in the way your warm walls hugged his cock so tightly he hoped you would beg for more after this. Jimin’s head begins to feel lighter and lighter and he can’t believe he is already about to cum. But how can he not if you are the fucking best.
You can’t even hear how loud you’re being, all you are focused on is how deliciously Jimin stretches you out like you are meant to be fucked by him, only him.
“Pretty girl, I am not gonna last long, you– you feel– you’re the best…”
“Cum with me, please, please, I am so close,” and your words float in the air as Jimin fucks you just as you wanted until you are both cuming and crashing into such an intense orgasm, you see white and have to be held by him. His warm cum dripping down your legs, the sinful evidence of such a dirty but pleasurable deed.
The moans next door have completely stopped and Jimin has already helped you to get you cleaned up. You both lie naked on your couch, his arm around you and you wonder how the fuck are you going to casually say hi to him again in the hallway.
Jimin’s phone vibrates.
Jungkook: Shit, man. Couldn’t you let me have one night? One fucking night?
Jimin: You were being too loud, and this girl’s is out of this world.
You look at Jimin, exhausted, your eyes closing.
“Should we make this a regular thing?” he asks.
---------------------------
a/n: this took me so so sooo long-- sorry... I had the biggest writer's block with this one. Jimin makes me nervous.
also... this is pure ✨fiction✨ hope you enjoyed it!
masterlist
#kpop smut#bts smut#bts imagines#bts fic#park jimin x reader#bts jimin#jimin smut#park jimin smut#park jimin fanfic#park jimin x you#jimin x reader#jimin fanfic#kpop fanfic#kpop fics#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#jimin scenarios#bangtan fanfic#astayinwonderland#namjoon smut#jin smut#yoongi smut#jhope smut#taehyung smut#jungkook smut#jimin x you#park jimin imagine#you ask edie shall write#bts x reader#bts x you
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Got Ink? 💉 | Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd Imagine
Takes place before, during, and after the events of TGM
TGM masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x tattooed model!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)
Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions of pain as a result of tattoos. Slight suggestive content if you blink | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k
Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)
Premise: Art comes in many different forms. And when you technically think about it, your body is a canvas that can be become a mural if you find yourself drawn to the beauty that tattoos bring. For WSO Bob Floyd, he appreciated art in every form and loved how patterns and colors could create something beautiful. When his sister invites him to a party for her job shortly after returning from a special mission with the Navy, Bob meets a woman who was the perfect canvas he’d ever seen.
Note: I cannot tell you how much I loved doing this request. As soon as I got it I was like, ‘I’m gonna love this,’ especially as someone who has tattoos and wants to have a lot (I have at least twenty planned) this was feeding my love for tattoos. To the anon who sent this request I hope you like it, I really enjoyed writing this for you and I hope you’re okay with me choosing Bob since you said you wouldn’t mind if it was him or Jake—since I just did a Jake imagine I wanted to give Bob some love 🥹 Also I made it where reader was born in 1989 so if we were to go by Bob being born in 1993 like Lewis then she’d be about four years older since the events of TGM take place in 2019.
——————————
They often say that when you get your first tattoo it will either be the one and only time you subject yourself to the temporary pain of permanent ink…or it becomes one of many.
“It’s an addiction”, people defend, though they should probably look up the term addiction before using it in such context.
For many it’s the appreciation of art. Whether expressing it by becoming a tattoo artist or wanting to capture the beauty by etching it onto their skin like they are its own personal canvas.
Tattoos come in many different forms. There’s the traditional/old school style that is very recognizable with its bold black lines outlining bright colors. People in their old age, having grown up in the 60s and 70s, are the ones usually seen with these types of tattoos. Neo-traditional is not that far off from traditional, just the lines are not as bold. Delicateness is seen with fine line tattoos. In recent years it’s become popular amongst the younger generation—not just because they are pretty to look at but if one has a job that’s strict on policy then they can hide them better.
The oldest style would be the tribal tattoos. Beautiful elaborate patterns in various sizes, they represent the culture one comes from. Like fine line, watercolor tattoos have become a popular style—taking away the traditional black ink used as an outline so the colors have the spotlight. No color in a piece is blackwork and then there’s realism where it’s pretty much a picture that was printed onto the skin. Go on Pinterest and you’ll find multiple images of patchwork style where a collection of pieces put together can be any style already mentioned.
Japanese style, patch, geometric, black & gray, anime, portrait, the list goes on and on. So many ways to put a design on one’s body where it will remain until they go to the next life. Some people stick to pieces that represent sentimental value, like family or childhood nostalgia, others will simply see something they like and go, “I think it looks cool.”
When looking at Y/n’s tattoos, both aspects were seen in the array of artwork coating her body. After getting all the pieces that represented a person, place, or thing that impacted her life, Y/n started to get whatever the hell she wanted—not having an explanation for anything other than, “it looked badass so I got it. No value behind it, I just wanted it.”
Like many newly turned teenagers itching to get their first tattoo, Y/n was bold and got an intricate design on one of the most painful spots. Her reasoning was if she did it, then any other place in the future wouldn’t be as bad. All through college whenever asked what she wanted for her birthday or holidays the answer was always money to get a tattoo. An artist herself, she majored in drawing while attending Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, also taking on an apprenticeship for a local tattoo artist. There she would get to work on her skills and tattoo people, progressing to doing tattoos on her legs and non-dominant arm. Anytime she traveled to a different state or country during the semester she studied abroad, Y/n got a new tattoo, wanting to have an array of styles from different artists on her body.
By the time she was 26, she had accumulated over 50 tattoos and still had room for more. From her neck down, artwork ranging from fine line to bold and traditional decorated her skin. Both her arms were half sleeves, ending just above her elbows with patchwork along her forearms and hands. The only place free of ink on Y/n was her face, though she did have her inner lip tattooed. If you asked her, it’d be the only place she regretted getting ink because it faded so quickly. But then again, she could get it redone if she really wanted to.
There were looks from people anytime she went out. Y/n loved dressing up in little black dresses and two piece sets to unapologetically show off her tattoos. Older, conservative couples or people who thought tattoos looked trashy on women would look down upon her. Getting hit on was normal, though she never gave the time of day and sending one look that read, ‘get lost’ had men scurry. Sometimes she'd be approached by teenagers asking about certain pieces, saying they wanted to get tattoos once they were of age and were looking for advice. Biker bars were a place she felt comfortable in, Y/n even taking a part-time job as a bartender so make some extra cash. People from all ages—well at least 21–were covered in tattoos like her.
In 2014, shortly after her 25th birthday, Y/n noticed an inbox notification in her instagram. She was used to getting messages on occasion. Being featured on the bar’s and tattoo parlors business instagram pages and accumulating her own following of potential clients had Y/n reach up to 80 thousand followers. The tattoo artist she worked for was very popular, having done work for celebrities and being featured in Inked Magazine.
Speaking of Inked Magazine…..
When Y/n clicked on the icon to open the message, the first thing she spotted was the blue checkmark. Then beside it was in bold lettering inkedmag. Coffee nearly spilled onto the floor when her grip faltered, gasping lightly at the name. She didn’t even realize the page was following her, confirming this by searching herself under their following and found her username staring back at her.
Heart pumping, Y/n opened the message. “Hi, Y/n, my name is Manda Williams and I’m a representative at Inked Magazine. We’re a fan of your profile and would love to work with you on our upcoming campaign. Would you be interested? Please email me at [email protected], I look forward to talking with you soon.”
Never did she think she’d become a model, let alone a tattoo model. She was taller than the average woman, standing at about 5’10 and strikingly beautiful. On countless occasions family members would say, “if you didn't have all that on you maybe you’d been discovered. You’ve got the height, the style, and high fashion look. Plus you’ll never get a well paying job with all those tattoos.” All they were met with was a roll of the eyes from the woman, annoyed with the constant nagging.
“I’m an artist,” she would defend. “I got accepted into one of the most prestigious art schools in the country and I work for a very renowned tattoo artist who has had Snoop Dogg, Angelina Jolie, and Lady Gaga as clients. Not to mention I work at a biker bar where the people there love me. Want me to go further?” the look on their face would read they didn’t but Y/n would put the nail in the coffin with, “Let me point out the fact I get paid more with both those jobs combined than you working a nine to five in your little office job. Also you should educate yourself. Tattoo models do exist.”
If only those family members could see her now. Posing on a motorcycle in nothing but a bra and booty shorts as the camera flashed in front of her.
“You’re a natural, Y/n,” the photographer complimented, making her flustered.
She adjusted her position, running a hand through her hair, “If you think so I trust your judgment.” Being in a studio felt very different than when she would set up her phone on a tripod in her apartment. It took many tries for her to capture the perfect angle, often deleting fifteen out of sixteen photos. Here with this guy calling out movements, “a little to the left,” “bring your hand up—just under your chin, perfect,” “Now act like you’re suntanning on the beach—tilt your head back as though the sun is in your face,” Y/n felt what it was like to be a model.
Not many tattooed individuals got the chance to sign with top agencies like Ford and IMG. Very few were recruited so it came as a big surprise when an agent from IMG Models contacted her following the release of Inked Magazine’s issue. When she took the job she thought it would be a small section in the magazine itself. Instead, she was on the cover.
“You don’t have an agent?” Bonnie’s tone was confused, staring back at Y/n from behind her desk as they sat in her office at the IMG headquarters. Bonnie had seen her cover on Inked, immediately going to Y/n’s instagram where she contacted her though the email listed on the tattoo parlors page. From there she asked the artist to bring a portfolio, which she was shocked to find out wasn’t much. “That was your first model job?”
Y/n shrugged, making a face like it was obvious, “Unless you count the dozens of comments I get on instagram beggin for my next post, yeah it was. I’m a bartender and tattoo artist, modeling wasn’t something I thought was in the cards.” She refrained from adding, “also didn’t think IMG scouted people like me.”
It was safe to say Y/n was unlike the typical runway model. Every now and then a high fashion show would hire a man with tattoos to walk for them. Very rare would you see a woman on the runway. For Y/n, that seemed to be the case in the beginning of her career. She did walk in the Marco Marco show that year which was the highlight of her life. Inked Magazine got so much response on her first feature that they made her their staple girl. Y/n worked with them the most on campaigns and even got to do a cover shoot with celebrities like Travis Barker and Kehlani. Those features got her a lot of recognition to the point she hit one million followers on instagram.
It wasn’t until Y/n went viral on the internet for her Sports Illustrated cover and becoming the first inked model to be featured in a Victoria Secret campaign that the top designers were booking her. Before long she was auditioning for brands during fashion week, securing Tom Ford, Calvin Klein, and Oscar de la Renta. Due to her tattoos being the star of the show, there were hardly any clothes on her save for tiny tops and skirts or dresses with intricate cutouts. She didn’t mind of course. After all, her tattoos were a part of her and the reason she was getting the opportunities of a lifetime.
Milan, Paris, London, New York. Fashion week was gonna have to get used to a new face in town.
Vogue, GQ, Vanity Fair, Inked. Pick up an issue and you’d find Y/n on at least one page, if not the cover.
Every now and then she’d get asked to appear in music videos for bands. The Weekend once asked her to be the cover art for one of his singles, bringing her more attention as "The Inked Beauty from Blinding Lights cover art.”
She appeared on the Inked Magazine YouTube channel several times. The most popular video being when she did a Q&A released shortly after walking in the last ever Victoria Secret Fashion Show in 2018, becoming the first inked model to walk the VS runway. Though it had low ratings, Y/n’s bit was plastered on every social media site, many tweeting: “the best thing VS could’ve done for their final show was put Y/n L/n in it. She carried the damn thing.”
“Hello, I’m Y/n L/n,” she smiled shyly at the camera, her agent Bonnie and publicist giving a thumbs up. “I’m a tattoo and high fashion model from New York City. You may recognize me from the cover of Inked Magazine, or discovered me through some of my other projects over the last couple years—hell maybe I even tattooed you at one point,” chuckling as she feels her nerves slowly evaporate. “Today I’m here with Inked Magazine, the owners of my heart and career, and I'm gonna answer some questions sent in by you guys about my tattoos and career.”
The producer gives a nod, “Ready, Y/n.”
“Let me hear them, sonny boy.”
“What was your first tattoo and at what age did you get it?”
Thankfully she was wearing a tube top beneath her jacket, removing the clothing to reveal the many inked designs on her chest, and stomach. Pointing to the one just below her ribs, Y/n says, “So this was my first one—as you can tell by how faded it is compared to the others. I got it when I was eighteenth birthday, literally wasted no time and my family is actually who inspired it.”
“As of right now, how many tattoos do you have?” The question has Y/n think for a moment, tilting her head back slightly.
“I counted just the other week and I think it was close to…. seventy,” nodding she adds, “yeah I think that’s right. I know I had fifty when Inked contacted me four years ago for my first feature. So I’ve added twenty to the collection since.” She made a mental note to count again when she got home that night.
“Do you have any tattoo regrets?”
A nervous chuckle escaped, “Fuck, uh….yes,” she looks down shamefully, but gives a shrug like, ‘I can explain.’ Lifting her head back up, Y/n takes her two index fingers and gently pulls down her bottom lip to reveal the messy smudged ink that once read, ‘baby girl’. The camera zoomed in and once they got a good shot of it Y/n let her lip fall back into place, “I don’t know if you were able to read that but when it was freshly done eight years ago it said,” she pulled a face showing she was too embarrassed to say it. “It said ‘baby girl.’ I got it when I was twenty on a dare and frankly I thought it would be hot, but it faded so quick—which,” she raised a finger, “that’s the one place I would say don’t get a tattoo. Even though it’s technically temporary…you’ll end up with a blob of ink like mine and it’s not cute.”
“Where were the most painful spots you got tattooed?” Immediately she lifted her arms to show she had ink on her armpits.
“These basterds right here,” the producer and crew laughed, nodding along with her. “You feel me? Yeah, I thought the ones on my stomach and ribs were bad. Those were a tickle compared to my armpits—-oh and my elbows. I think I actually broke a sweat when I got those done. It’s why I have yet to conquer my knees,” patting the covered area, Y/n shakes her head, “I don’t know If i can do it. But funny enough, these tiny little hearts on my palms,” Y/n flashed her palms up, the camera focusing on the two red lined hearts in the middle of each hand. “These hurt so bad. Thankfully I’m not putting anything else here because I strictly wanted the hearts, so I’m sparing myself.”
“What do they mean?” The producer asked, taking a pause from reading out the next question. The little smile Y/n gave was shy.
“I was told a lot growing up that I keep my heart in the palm of my hand,” while she explained Y/n kept glancing at the hearts, “kinda like the saying, ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve,’ but with me it’s literally in the palm of my hand. So I got these little hearts on my palms—that way when I hold someone’s hand, they can feel the love and care I have for them,” sending a wink to the camera she finishes with, “because my heart is in my palm.”
“Have you ever dated anyone with more tattoos than you?”
“Noooo,” she snorts. “Not because I’m not open to it—I’m very attracted to people with tattoos. And I have dated people with a lot…it just seems that anytime I do get into a serious relationship, I’m the one who has more than the other. And if you’re thinking about who I think you are—,” Y/n points directly to the camera, like a mother scolding her child, “the answer is no, he did not have more than me. Louis has thirty-three, I believe, since the last time he and I talked—which was,” she pauses to think, “I think around New Year’s.”
“Do you find yourself enjoying campaign shoots or runway shows more?”
“That’s hard,” Y/n pouts, causing her agent to chuckle since she knew the answer first hand. “Both are fun in their own way. I love being able to come into a studio or go out on sight and do a photo shoot—except in the fucking winter because I’m usually half naked freezing my ass off.” She pauses to laugh with the crew before continuing. “And then there's this feeling of ‘wow, that just happened,’ when I step off the runway. Getting to work with designers I’ve idolized since childhood and being the face of Mugler is a dream come true. If I had to choose…..it would be campaigns and photo shoots. There I can express myself more freely.”
“Do you see yourself still modeling in ten to twenty years time?”
There was a question she had to think about, taking a moment before answering. “I sure hope so. I love my job and definitely see myself continuing in the future. As long as my agent Bonnie and Inked don't get tired of me,” she laughs, winking at the woman who blows her a kiss. “But honestly I have experience as a tattoo artist so I could see myself opening my own parlor. I’d love to start my own blog or get other tattoo models into the industry. There’s a lot to think about what the future holds, but for right now I’m gonna have fun in the present.”
While home in New York when not booked, Y/n continued to work part-time at the tattoo parlor. She left the bar shortly after signing with IMG, but still visited whenever she could. There was even a picture of one of her Inked shoots framed above the bar.
With her new found fame the parlor had little to no openings each month. Regulars and new clients had to call in to reserve an appointment the second the schedule was dropped, which was sometimes weeks in advance. Several of the friends Y/n made in the modeling industry would get tattoos from her, though they always tended to go for the fine line style. More celebrities booked with her boss, adding Cardi B, Rihanna, and Louis Tomlinson to the list. The latter whom, as mentioned, Y/n actually got romantically linked to in mid 2017. It only lasted a few months, but the photo of the two on the Inked instagram was the most liked on their page.
Louis wasn’t the only high profiled person Y/n was involved with. Unfortunately the downside to fame meant her personal life was to be blasted on every inch of the internet. From starting her modeling career in 2014 to spring of 2019, she’d been spotted with actors Michael B. Jordan, Tom Felton, and fellow model Vladimir Ivanov. Like Louis, they only lasted a couple weeks to months—save for Vladimir which lasted almost over a year—and ended on good terms where they remained friends.
Frankly when it came to settling down Y/n hoped to find someone who was sweet and down to earth. Who was a hard worker—passionate about what they did for a living and wanting to share that with her. Someone who could make her laugh and feel like she was the only girl in the world. It was hard finding someone like when the spotlight follows you around. Y/n had been in the public eye going on six years and due to her connections with big named people she never seemed to catch a break when it came to romance.
All those qualities she desired in a life partner came to her in the form of the adorable weapons system officer she met at a party in November of 2019. The poor guy felt so out of place. From behind the bar Y/n could see him at the corner glancing around like he was searching for someone. Only getting a glimpse at the side of his face, she didn’t recognize him. The party had many from the fashion industry to celebrate Anna Wintour’s 70th birthday. What was ironic was Y/n took up the task of working the bar, kicking into her skills from when she was a bartender at a popular biker club in Manhattan. With her view she was able to see the entire floor as people entered.
The man she’d been eyeing must’ve come in when she was busy making the Hadid sisters their drinks. He wore a white dress shirt with some slacks and a matching blazer. His glasses reminded her of the popular style from the 80s. Come to think of it, they were probably the aviator style. He was tall, roughly six foot so she’d be eye level with him considering she was wearing two inch kitten heels.
Seeing his flustered demeanor and the fact he looked like he didn’t know what the hell he was doing there—not to mention he was handsome from what she could see, Y/n waltzed over, “May I get you anything?”
When he spun around she was met with the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes staring back at her. They blinked rapidly, like they were trying to decipher if she was in fact real. Then they snapped straight to her neck, following the ink of the exposed skin on display from her red latex mini dress—which his face mirrored the color of since he was making it quite known he was checking her out. He had a baby face to him, which was kinda adorable, and Y/n assumed he was maybe a year or two younger than her.
Offering a smile Y/n said, “So what will it be?”
“Huh?” He said confused before remembering what she initially asked before he got distracted. “Oh uh, just water please.” Still smiling, Y/n took a clean empty glass and filled it with ice before adding the water. Finishing it with a straw she placed it on a napkin in front of him.
“Will that be all?”
“Yes. Thank you,” he took the glass, glancing around briefly before letting his shoulders drop.
“You seem a bit out of place,” Y/n wiped down the countertop, catching his attention again. The man nervously laughed, adjusting his glasses.
“Is it that obvious?”
“A bit,” she teased, nodding her head to the crowd in front of them. “All these people walk around like they own the place. You’re the first person I’ve seen tonight who doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing. Are you here with someone?” Part of her was hoping he’d say a friend invited him, feeling a sudden rush of butterflies at the way he looked at her—like he couldn’t believe she was real.
“My sister dragged me along,” he confirms, the model mentally sighing in relief. But she couldn’t get her hopes too high. For all she knew he may have a partner back home. “I was visiting her this past week and she begged me to come. I told her it was a bad idea since I’m not….part of this crowd.”
“Ah,” she hums, biting back a grin at the way he described the industry. “Not a model or influencer, I take it?”
“Nooooo,” his laugh filled her stomach with butterflies. “Not at all. I don’t know how to work social media. Are you?”
Y/n refilled a guest's drink and handed over a beer to another, “I dabble here and there,” it was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t familiar with her work. Usually at events like the one they were at she had people coming up to her already knowing who she was. “You’re probably like, ‘thought she was just a bartender,’” she giggled at the flustered look taking over him. “I was one before being discovered. I’m doing this for fun honestly—-and because Anna likes what I make her.”
His eyes went to her neck and collarbones, lingering on the ink. She assumed he’d never seen a model with so many tattoos before. “You can look,” she smirked, when he glanced away from being caught staring. “You’re only seeing a small portion of the canvas,” his eyes went wide at her words, making her giggle, “these babies are the reason I’m in this business.”
“You're a tattoo model?”
Y/n raises a brow at the surprise in his tone, “Didn’t know they existed, handsome?”
“No-no,” he quickly apologizes, “sorry I meant no offense. I knew there were models with a lot of tattoos. My sister told me that the industry was starting to expand by signing more people with them.” His words have Y/n intrigued. Obviously his sister was someone in the business, she wondered if she knew her.
“Is your sister one?”
“No, she’s an agent,” Y/n stops what she’s doing, towel long forgotten.
“For a modeling agency?”
“Yeah.”
“Which one?” Just as the question left her lips, Bonnie’s voice interrupted the two, “Bob, there you are! Oh good—,” she grins wide when she sees who he’s talking to, “You guys met!”
Snapping their heads toward each other, the two have the same expressions of, “wait what?”
Bonnie claps her hands, coming beside Bob at the bar and motioning between the two, “Y/n, this is my brother, Robert—the one I was telling you about last week,” mouth slightly agape, remembering the conversations the two had about Bonnie’s brother—in which the agent suggested setting up a date between the two—Y/n watches Bob react the same when Bonnie then says, “Bob, this is Y/n L/n. One of my clients at IMG—I know I’ve mentioned her before to you.”
Not knowing what to do at first, Y/n extends her hand to formally introduce herself, “So you must be the famous, Bob,” butterflies swarm her stomach again by the warmth of Bob’s hand when he goes to shake it. “I’m Y/n. So nice to finally meet you—Bonnie’s told me a lot about you.”
“W-wow,” Bob stutters, mentally hating himself when he does. “It’s really nice to meet you too, ma’am. I wasn’t expecting to meet you tonight, but now I see why Bonnie was so adamant I come.” A pointed look is thrown at Bonnie, who shrugs with a smile like she did no wrong.
“Well seeing as you two found each other without me, I’ll leave you both to it. Bob, let me know if you plan on riding with me back to the house or if you catch a ride. And Y/n I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.” Winking, Bonnie takes the Cosmopolitan Y/n made for her and scurries off, leaving the two alone.
“I should’ve known,” Y/n laughs lightly, topping off Bob’s water. “Your sister has brought you up the past couple times she and I have gotten together,” lips curl into a smirk, “she wasn’t lying when she said you were a cutie.”
Bob turns red, smiling shyly, “when she told me about the inked beauty she worked with, she left out the fact you’re a walking piece of art.” His boldness impressed her, Y/n leaning closer to him against the bar top, resting her elbow on to so she could lean her head on her hand.
“How long are you gonna be in New York?”
“Till Wednesday,” part of her was disappointed that it was only four days away considering it was currently Saturday. But it was enough time for something to blossom.
“Tell me about yourself, Bob. The night’s early and I could listen to you talk for hours. Let’s see if Bonnie was psychic when she said we’d be quite the puzzle when put together.”
Ever heard of the type of couples where the girl radiates black cat energy and the guy is a literal golden retriever?
That was Y/n and Bob to a tee.
Out in public they stood out—even in a city like New York. Then when Y/n went to San Diego to meet his friends for the first time after four months together—which also resulted in her being stuck in California due to lockdown from the covid pandemic—it was like everyone couldn’t believe someone like Bob was with someone like Y/n.
He was a quiet, reserved naval officer and she was a sharp-tongued, world renowned tattoo model. They were the definition of the couple in high school you’d never expect would hit it off.
When Bob introduced Y/n to the squad, they instantly knew who she was, but had different ways of discovering her. Nat saw her walk in the VS Fashion show, Mickey and Reuben recognized her from The Weekend’s cover art, Javy remembered her from an episode of Ink Master she appeared on, Jake saw her on the cover of Sports Illustrated, and Bradley actually got a tattoo from Y/n when he was in NYC.
The entire period Y/n was in San Diego she grew close to the squad, even Maverick who had a lot of questions about her work and tattoos. “You think I’d look good with them at my age?” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the question, ensuring the Captain with a pat on the back.
“Some of the sexiest men I’ve met have been your age with ink more in than me,” she giggles when he goes red. “I worked at a biker bar in New York City. Believe me, Pete. Anyone can look good with some ink.”
Needless to say when it came time for Mav to get a tattoo, Y/n was the one doing it.
A lot of the squad ended up getting work done by her. Jake, Mickey and Rooster had a few already so they were familiar with the process. Nat only had one from a drunk night in college, which Y/n redid on her behalf since it had faded. Payback was a man who liked bold, meaningful tattoos so sometimes Y/n had her work cut out for her but she always came through.
“Yo is this gonna hurt bad,” Javy was practically sweating as Y/n removed the stencil from his shoulder. The design was a geometric sun about the size of an airpod case.
“It’ll sting, but this area generally isn’t too painful. If this was your bicep then it’d be a different story.”
Javy didn’t look convinced, turning to look at the guys while the stencil dried, “How was it for you guys?”
“Didn’t hurt at all for me,” Rooster shrugged, “my bicep was worse—like she said.”
“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Payback waved a hand. “You see how tiny it is? It’ll be over before you know it.”
Going over the details once more to confirm the colors and shading, Y/n moved her chair closer after turning on the tv to an episode of Chopped. “You ready, Jav?”
“Ready,” he didn’t really sound like it but it was too late to back out. The buzz of the needle filled his ears and soon the stinging sensation they all said had him clutching his first.
“Try to relax, man” Bob sat on the chair next to Y/n, “being tense won’t help.”
After over a year of dating Bob had his fair share of tattoos. His were mostly small and easily hidden by his uniform. When they first got together, Bob loved learning about her tattoos. When she got them, why she did. If there were any meaning behind certain ones and if she planned to get more.
She was like a walking art gallery. So many colors and styles. Large and small. Y/n told him stories about almost every one—even if they were embarrassing like the inner lip tattoo.
“Biggest mistake,” she wiped a tear after she was done, the two laughing so hard. “Not only did it hurt but it faded not even a year after I got it. Now it looks so bad—I should get it redone but what’s the point when it will just end up looking the same.”
Bob hated when people would give her looks of disproval when they’d go out, usually from those who were unfamiliar with Y/n’s work. One time he nearly got into a bar fight with a older gentleman who thought it was okay to call Y/n a Jezebel. Rooster and Mickey had to hold him back, but Y/n simply looked at the guy and said, “Baby, I’m a fucking millionaire because of these bad boys. While you’re about to kick it the dust I’m gonna be on the cover of Vogue magazine next month. So eat shit and die already.” The man was left speechless, making her and the squad smirk in victory. The equally tatted bartender who knew of Y/n whistling and even given her a free round.
“That was so fucking hot,” Bob pulled her into a searing kiss when they left the bar moments later, Y/n smirking against his lips, “You think that was hot? I’m a mess under these pants from seeing you so worked up, baby. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Whenever he and Y/n would cuddle she’d trace the raised ink with a finger, Bob doing the same to hers and committing them to memory. He loved to kiss the ones on her neck and collarbones, but his favorite were the tiny hearts on the palms of her hands.
“What do these mean,” he asked one day during the early days of their relationship. They were laying out on the hammock, taking her hands to admire the collection of small tattoos along her fingers and wrists. He hadn't even realized she had any on the palms until he flipped them over. There his thumbs traced over the red outline of each heart.
“If you ask any person I’ve ever loved or cared for they’d tell you I carry my heart in the palm of my hand,” she flips her hands so they are holding Bob’s, the tattoos against his skin. “So when I hold people’s hands, they know a piece of my heart lies with them.” Letting her head fall back against his shoulder, Y/n shifts so her lips are against his jaw. “And I’m kinda hoping you’re the only one who gets to hold them from here on out.”
Anytime after that Bob would press a kiss to the hearts whenever he held her hands. Then when asked about what tattoo of Y/n’s was his favorite his answer was always, “the hearts.”
His family adored her. At first they were put off by her striking image but learned quickly Y/n was perfect for Bob. The children of his siblings loved taking washable markers to color in the tattoos Y/n had that were black and white. “Can I draw you a tattoo someday?” Little Emma asked shortly after the couple celebrated one year. She was a little artist who loved asking questions about the pretty pictures on Y/n.
“Of course, my love,” she promised. “Draw me whatever you desire and I shall get it done.”
The first fashion show Y/n booked after the pandemic Bob had front row seats. With his phone out he was the ultimate cheerleader, though he refrained from whistling or making noise so as to not embarrass the model, but would be in absolute awe when she strutted past him. It was the Tom Ford show, Y/n had walked out in a long black trench coat, coming to the end of the runway first before removing the item to reveal a silk dress underneath. It was spaghetti strapped with an open back, thigh slit to compliment her legs and the cameras loved it. She walked a few steps back up and turned to strike one last pose before making her exit.
Bob was mesmerized. It was the first time he’d seen her walk the runway and my God if he wasn’t already a simp he sure was then. A photographer captured his reaction to her discarding the coat and it went viral on Twitter.
@ inmyreputationera: if my man doesn’t look at me like @inkedbyY/n bf at NYFW then I don’t want it.
@ Inked✔️: We’re all Bob Floyd when @inkedbyY/n steps onto the runway.
When it came time to pick out her wedding dress Y/n was unsure of the route to go. It’d been five years the two were coming up on, one year of being engaged with the wedding to take place in North Island. A beach wedding in the late fall, Y/n wanted to look elegant and classy.
“Whatever you choose you’ll gonna look amazing, darling,” Bob kissed her head after she sighed when shuffling through bridal magazine pictures of dresses she’d cut out. “You know I love your tattoos—they are a part of you and I don’t want you feeling like you have to cover up for the sake of pictures. Baby, you’re one of the top models in the world. Like you told me when we first met, those babies are what got you discovered. Show them off.” Rubbing her shoulder exposed from her tank top, his lips pressed to the ink covering the skin. “But if you like this,” he pointed to the dress she kept going back to in her pile, it was elegant and pretty with neckline that fell just below her collarbones. “Then you should get it because you love it.”
The ceremony dress ended up being the one with a high neckline. It had open back with Y/n deciding on a her veil cascading down to the floor to become a small train rather than having the dress itself have it. Lace covered her arms, the ink peeking out from beneath to make the material stand out more due to the contrast.
She was stunning. An actual goddess that had Bob’s jaw drop the second his eyes landed on her. For the reception Y/n changed into a white two piece set that showed off her legs.
And you best believe she hired local tattoo artists to do a ‘spur of the moment’ tattoo booth at the party.
It didn’t take long for Inked Magazine to want to do a bridal shoot with Y/n. And if you look at it one way, it was a full circle moment. The issue marked ten years since they discovered Y/n and blessed her with the career of a lifetime that led her to meeting the love of her life.
All because she had a knack for getting ink.
……………..
TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa
#Spotify#bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x reader#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x y/n#robert floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd fluff#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick imagine#top gun maverick#lewis pullman imagine#lewis pullman#tattoo!reader#tgm fluff#tgm imagine
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College Sweethearts. — evan buckley
SUMMARY: Buck and Reader used to be college sweethearts until he was kicked out of college. You didn’t stay in contact, nor did he give you an explanation of why he left completely. Years later your ways found back to each other again. And Buck certainly doesn’t want to miss this possible second chance with you.
word count: 3,287
genre: fluff | gn!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly
warnings: use of y/n a few times, mention of buck dying a few times, nervous buck, mention of some other events from the show (s1-s3), heavy teasing, readers college degree is not specified, mention and description of alcohol use, mention of weed use, mentions of past hook-ups/making out, english is not my first language, hardly proofread — if i forgot something, please let me know!
a/n: I had this idea while watching a documentary about the planet Venus and immediately had to write it. It might be a bit cheesy but who cares? Everyone needs that sometimes, and Buck is currently the only thing that is in my mind (for weeks). Also: I’m currently working on multiple requests, which could slow me down from posting a bit at the moment! Enjoy reading 🫶 edit: i might make a second part to this once here but nothing’s decided yet!
disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!
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Oh dear, love can be such a complicated little and big thing. Especially in your high school or college years. It’s supposed to be something beautiful, right? Well, for you it didn’t start quite easy, nor did it end in a rather beautiful way. In your early college years, you had a few dates with different people. At one point you gave up because no one matched your energy or gave you the vibes that you want to spend more, intimate time with them. You decided to focus more on studying and getting high with your friends a few times but you definitely didn’t plan on finding your (now ex-) fling at one of these stupid college parties.
But there you were, slightly drunk and making out with the infamous Evan Buckley. Maybe you had a small crush on him but did it matter at that point? The both of you started hooking up even after this party and you would lie if you would say it wasn’t amazing. He made you feel good and that’s all you cared about. It was fun while it lasted but at one point, he got kicked out of community college because he spent all his money on his motorcycle. And that was the last time you ever saw him as well. Sure, you were a bit mad because he didn’t say anything to you but you were not his partner. You had no right to say anything about it.
Even months after you last saw him you weren’t ready to hook up or meet other potential future partners. You realized at one point you might have fallen for him but you quickly needed to get rid of those feelings because you were completely sure you would never see him again. Sure, you could have taken a drive to his home but Buck told you a few times that his parents weren’t his favourite people in the world and he’d never want you to meet him. And again: In your opinion, you had no right to do that anyway.
Near the end of graduating your last college year, you decided it would be best for you to move away from your hometown. A fresh start was much needed. Especially after some fucked up friendships over some stupid boys that were in some of your college classes. You needed to get away from there immediately and that’s when you eventually decided to move to Los Angeles. It was always your tiny (big) dream to live there but never imagined you actually would someday. So, taking this opportunity made it even more perfect to start over. With the help of some friends and family members you successfully moved to the big city, it was hard work and saying your goodbyes was still tough for you. But you didn’t want to turn back and focus on the new part of your life even if that meant knowing no one and finding new people that lived in the same city as you.
After some months of living in Los Angeles, you decided to start working in a café until you found a good place to work at. You slowly felt more comfortable and started to feel more at home. You found one friend during this time – Maddie Buckley. You met her in the café you were working at. She came there often to get her a coffee and one day Maddie gave you her number. She told you that you could call her any time you need help or want to talk. Since she knew how it can be to live in a new city without knowing anyone. What you didn’t know was, that Maddie was Bucks sister and she never mentioned him as well, nor did you meet him when you were at her home the few times. Somehow you even missed the pictures that Maddie had of her and Buck in her home. Sure, she mentioned ‘her brother’ a few times and that he was working with Chimney but Bucks name was never mentioned for some reason. You even met Chimney a few times. There were a few times were you almost met Buck whenever he came over to Maddie and Chimney but every time you were already gone.
At one point Chimney invited you to come over to the 118 to meet his colleagues. He planned to set you up with Buck and Maddie helped him, little did they know that you guys already had a shared past. And that there were many details involved between you, including some untold parts. You agreed to visit him the next day since you had a few days off from work and that’s where the little chaos began for you and Buck. You picked out one of your favourite clothing pieces and were on your way to the 118.
Chimney already told the team that you were coming over and slightly begged them, especially Buck, to be nice to you and not make any moves. “Or else you will scare them away, alright?”
Buck was confused about what he meant but decided to ignore it. Once you were there Chimney immediately welcomed you with a hug and a big smile. He showed you the way up to where everyone else was, waiting for you. Buck was currently turned to the stairs with his back but once he heard your voice he quickly turned around since he remembered your voice. He just couldn’t believe that it was you. The moment your eyes met each other your smiles dropped for a moment out of shock.
After a few seconds of silence, you both pointed at each other with big eyes. “You?! Wha-”
“Wait. You both know each other?” Chimney questioned and looked at the both of you, very confused. You never mentioned that you already know Buck.
You slowly nodded your head and turned towards Chimney. You dropped your arm while doing that. “Uhm.. Yeah we know each other from-“
“College,” Buck interrupted you quickly. He was still shocked.
You only nodded your head to Buck’s words; you were shocked as well but not as much as he was.
“Wow. That’s interesting,” Hen mumbled to herself and got up to you. “Welcome to the 118. Chim already told me a lot of stuff about you,” she smiled at you and gave you a quick welcoming hug, which you returned. But your eyes were still glued on Buck.
The rest of the team, excluding Buck, welcomed you as well mostly with a handshake. Buck just nodded and slightly smiled at you. Things were slightly awkward now since there was a lot to explain and to be told between Buck and you. Especially because this had to be done in private, which was the reason why you didn’t really talk with each other. But Buck still made sure to listen to what you were telling and talking about with the others from the team. Even Bobby noticed Bucks staring after the first hour you were there and decided to invite you to stay as long as you want. You even stayed longer for his infamous lasagne, Chimney told you about it already. It tasted amazing but sitting right in front of Buck didn’t help you at all.
Especially because his eyes were still fixed on you. Even Eddie and Hen slightly nudged him to stop staring at you which only helped for like one second until he started staring again. You tried to ignore it but you did catch him a few times. He just couldn’t believe that you were sitting in front of him, here. His thoughts were pure chaos at this point. All he could think about was if you hated him for leaving you without explaining or saying anything. Were you mad at him? He certainly hoped you didn’t but he knew he’d deserve it. Buck wanted to talk to you in private but at work, there was no way it could happen. The one time you were almost alone together, a call for a fire came in. Which resulted in leaving you alone at the station. When the team got back from the fire, you were already back home. But left a little ‘thank you’ note for Chimney inviting you and Bobby for cooking such delicious food.
“You can tell them that they’re always welcome here,” Bobby told Chimney after Buck read out loud the note from you. Buck sighed, how could he talk to you without having to ask Chimney or Maddie for your number? If he wouldn’t find a way, he would do it but he didn’t want them to ask too many questions.
It was already enough to see Chimneys face filled with curiosity. He sure would talk with Maddie about the encounter between you and Buck once he was home. Buck knew he would have a talk with Maddie about you. He talked with her a few times about you already and how much he regretted his decision to leave without saying at least goodbye to you. And especially he needed to ask her how the hell she met you and why Maddie never considered mentioning you at least once.
So, to see a note falling out of his locker surprised Buck a lot. He bent down to pick it up and once he read the words his lips turned into a small and cheeky smile. It was a note from you with your telephone number and a small text added underneath.
“If you want to catch up, just text me whenever you want :) - Y/N/N”
Bucks smile grew even more after he read the nickname you added at the end. He basically gave it to you one evening while you watched your favourite movie and were too distracted with kicking each other out of fun and shared laughs. Despite having started your dynamic with the rule of only making out with each other, you two grew close but never talked about your actual feelings towards each other. Which made it even more sad that you lost contact with each other. But maybe that was what you both exactly needed to grow. Buck was curious to know how you’ve been and what you’re doing now. He would be lying if he would say he never found himself thinking about you over the past years, you never really left his thoughts at all. There were many times where he cursed himself for losing or especially leaving you without saying goodbye. He always imagined the moment where you both see each other again and that you would hate him but after seeing you today, he wasn’t sure if that was real. Now knowing that you gave him your number had to mean something. Buck definitely didn’t want to fuck up a possible second chance with you. He just hoped you would feel the same about him, which you certainly did.
Hen watched Buck go away with such a big smile she hasn’t seen on his face for a while now. She started smiling a bit in slight hopes it had something to do with you after all. Buck was on his way back home and the only thing that was on his mind was you. For the whole drive and even after he was at home for hours. His phone was laying on top of his bed and he walked his room up and down, he needed to decide if he is going to text you. Or well, how he should text you because he wanted to do it. He just didn’t want to embarrass himself. After a while he fell asleep with his phone in his hands, not noticing that he accidentally sent you a selfie while being half asleep. The moment you got his message you chuckled and opened the picture. You replied to him in a flirty but joking manner and closed the messages app afterwards. You fell asleep right after it and woke up to a reply from Buck. He apologized for sending such a picture to you but you admitted to him that you thought it was cute anyways.
And that’s how it ended for both of you. Talking and sending each other many messages. Most of them were filled with teasing and joking. You both were happier than usual and this came with teasing from your co-workers and the 118. Buck was on his phone more than usual and smiling from ear to ear. Obviously, the others noticed that and started teasing him with the worst possible things you can imagine.
“You know who he’s texting with?” Hen asked Chimney while they looked over to the lovebird looking at his phone.
Chimney smirked and nodded, “I guess it must be Y/N, they have been smiling more the last time they were over.”
Hen chuckled, “Of course, it would be them. Who else?”
Eddie joined them, “But don’t ask him about it, he’s quiet like a grave.” Chimney laughed at his comment and focused back on drinking his coffee.
But tonight, was the first time you’d hangout for the first time since you met each other at the station. It has been one week since then and you were nervous to meet him. Of course, it has been fun and nice talking with him over texts but seeing him in person was something else. It was night-time and you were getting ready for the ‘not-‘date with Buck. You were talking with Maddie on your phone, you needed her to help pick out an outfit. After what seemed like an eternity, you finally decided on your outfit, it was elegant but still comfortable for you to wear. It was good enough for staying outside even after the sunset. Maddie wished you good luck and said your goodbyes to each other. With the help of Eddie, Buck was able to choose a perfect outfit as well. He chose one of his white striped shirts, he remembered that you were really fond of one of his shirts that was similar to the one he’s wearing this time. He really hoped you’d like it. Right when you were about to leave Buck texted you, asking if you were on your way. You replied with a selfie, wearing your coat and a smile on your lips. You put your phone into your pockets and left your apartment.
Ten minutes later you got to the place where you were about to meet Buck. He was already standing there, nervously waiting for you. You tapped his shoulder and he immediately turned around.
His lips turned up in a smile. “H-hey,” Buck was immediately calmer.
“Hello there,” you smiled at him. It grew even more after he held a small flower to you. It was your favourite one. You took it and held it happily. “Wait I didn’t get you something.”
Buck shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re here, that’s..” he took a breath to think about his next words. “That’s all I need.”
You smiled at him again and took his arm after he held it out to you as well. You were walking through the park for a few minutes. They were filled with a comfortable silence but you took the turn to break it.
“How long have you been living here now?”
Buck looked at you but your eyes were focused on the flower he gave you. “For a few years now. Since.. You know I got kicked out of college I did many different things and well, ended up here.”
You chuckled and looked up to meet his eyes. “As long as you were happy.”
“Well.. Certainly.”
“Oh, is there something you want to tell me, Buckaroo?” You raised your eyebrows in a teasing manner.
He chuckled at the nickname. You used to call him that a few times back then. “Well.. I almost died. One or two times? My ex-girlfriend left me. Well, she left the whole country and didn’t really break up with me, only that I had to find out she was engaged. Everything while we had to clear out a train crash and I had to save her fiancé. Oh, and let’s not forget that I have a dead brother. Which I only found out a few months ago.”
You stopped walking and your mouth was open. When you asked him if he had to tell you something, you clearly didn’t expect anything of that.
“You.. It’s okay, I’m fine after all. I guess,” he mentioned.
“Damn. I didn’t expect things like that, Buck. I thought maybe you would say something like that you adopted a dog or a cat like you always wanted but… That?” You looked at him with soft eyes. “And you almost died? How can you say this so easily?!”
“I admit, they weren’t my best times but after all everything worked out. Even if I had to file a lawsuit against..” You were already shocked enough, which caused him to stop. “You know, that is something I could tell you later. What about you? Did you almost die once or twice?” He nudged you with his arm and continued to walk with you.
It took you a few moments to gather back your mind after all these news. A lawsuit? You definitely would find the time to ask him about that later.
“Well, I guess I finished college and just decided to move here. And no, I never got the opportunity to experience dying. I think I’ll leave that for you,” you smirked which caused him to chuckle again.
You spent two more hours talking about many different things. Up from Buck slowly finding his way into cooking and photography, that you’re looking for a job in your actual degree, and many more other themes you could spend hours talking about. It was a wonderful and comfortable time. Buck made sure that you felt safe and comfortable the whole time even when you were not looking all he focused on was just you. He missed hearing and seeing your smile and laugh. The way you sometimes moved your head backwards or subtly touched his arm because of his (bad) jokes. You talked about the fact that you knew Maddie and Chimney already but never found out that Maddie was his sister. You both found that hilarious. Overall, nothing had changed between you. Only you both individually, and in those few hours you felt happier than ever. And you got your answer, you truly had grown over the past few years and it was much needed. You felt safer in yourself, were stronger and well and the love you held deep down in your heart for Buck was still there. He walked you home this night and both of you were standing in front of your closed apartment door.
“It was nice, Buck. I haven’t had so much fun for a while now,” you smiled at him which he obviously returned.
“It was beautiful, Y/N. But I have to tell you something else and I.. I don’t know if that c-can wait any longer,” he stuttered. He was nervous you could tell.
You took his hand in a comforting way. “You can tell me anything if you feel the need for it, Buck. It’s okay.”
“You know... Maybe we could go out some time again. But m-maybe... You know as a-“ He stopped himself.
Your smile grew. “As a what? Hm?” You raised your eyebrow with a smirk now.
He looked into your eyes. You could see the hope he had in his own eyes. “As a date? Maybe?”
You stepped one step closer to him and kissed his cheek. “I’d love to.”
#⚘; — my writing ✧♡#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley fluff#evan buckley angst#evan buckley fanfiction#evan buckley x y/n#evan buckley x you#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley one shot#evan buckley fanfic#evan buck buckely#oliver stark#911 x reader#911#911 fox#911 fanfic#911 show#911 fluff#911 angst#911 fic#911 on abc#911 fanfiction#9-1-1#9 1 1#9 1 1 fic#9 1 1 x reader#gender neutral!reader#friends to lovers
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(Best)FWB!Ezreal Headcanons (18+)
Inspiration: This was one of the of ideas that got me to start this account lol. I’m also in the process of writing a fic based on this idea and it would be so much easier to just reference this post in the header rather than explain everything in the prose.
Champion: Ezreal (like Pilty!Ezreal/Explorer!Ezreal)
Genre: Headcanon
Category: TINIEST amount of angst but primarily FLUFF and SMUT - I mean what were you expecting. We're talking about best friends with benefits here. Typically the benefits are of an adult nature. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Length: This is a looooong one, friends. In my defense, I'm using this headcanon as world-building/background information for at least 1 future fic (It's quickly turning into multiple parts lmao).
Gender: Fem!Reader/reader who is fem presenting? Ahhhh even my non-binary ass doesn't know how to describe this...mention of dresses and stuff.
TW: Adult themes. Friends with benefits, reference to adult activities and kinks. For example: semi-public petting or Dom/sub dynamics. Slight mention of what (probably) happened to his parents and the emotional fallout of that. Mention of alcohol (always drink responsibly y’all). Swearing (as per usual).
Important context: I know game Ez’s age is a bit debated, though generally agreed on somewhere in early to early-mid-20s. For adult Ez in this, let’s say he’s like 23-24? Also Indiana Jones exists in this universe because DAMNIT I WANT TO CALL HIM INDIANA JONES AS A NICKNAME.
SFW
Your father is a history professor at the academy who knows/works with Ezreal’s uncle, Professor Lymere, and who often collaborated with Ez’s parents before they disappeared. Archeology and history go hand-in-hand, after all.
These collaborations led to you and Ezreal being together often as kids since you were around the same age, and a close friendship developed.
To the point of casual physical affection (hugs, hand holding, occasional cuddles) and silly nicknames for each other. He calls you princess, you call him…idiot mostly. (Jk…kinda.) You’ve called him Indiana Jones for forever since he was just as fascinated about archeology/artifacts as his parents.
You have called him an idiot many times though, especially when he’s been extremely rash and reckless.
At various points in your friendship, people have seen the two of you and assumed you had to be dating. It’s hysterical to both of you.
“Me dating Ezreal?! Nah, he’s just my best friend.”
“(Y/N)?? Absolutely not. We’re just best friends.”
You’re one of the few people who can humble Ezreal, a specialty of yours since early on in your friendship.
You: *In your father’s office studying while he teaches a lecture to one of his classes in a nearby lecture hall*
Ez: *Runs into the office, breathlessly laughing as he leans against the now closed door, holding a toupee*
You: *Eyebrows raise* Whatcha got there, Ez?
Ez: *grins* One of the campus warden’s toupees!
You: *Stares at him for a second and sighs* You’re a moron….*goes back to studying*
After his parents’ disappearance, you were understandably worried for Ezreal. You watched as your best friend struggled through the stages of grief, and even worse, stalled before he could get to the acceptance stage of what most likely happened.
You were always there to listen when he needed an ear. Even more importantly you tried to serve as a voice of reason once Ez started planning his own expedition to find the final resting place of Ne’Zuk.
You never said anything to completely dissuade him, because you wanted him to follow his heart and his dreams, but you couldn’t help but worry. With what likely happened to his parents, you were utterly terrified he wouldn’t come back, especially considering his stubbornness, his recklessness, and his age. Losing your best friend was a thought you just couldn’t stomach.
Only you knew about his plan to sneak onto a supply ship bound for Nashramae. You sent him off in the middle of the night with a giant hug and a “Be safe, Indiana Jones. You better come back alive…Write when you can…”
After a second he pulled back from the hug, gave you a signature Ez smirk, and said, “You know me well enough to know I’ll be fine, princess…”
Once he did set off, you had to convincingly act as though you didn’t know where he went. It was difficult, especially seeing how distraught his uncle was once he read Ez’s note, but your loyalty was to your friend.
It was torment waiting for any sort of news. Ez wasn’t exactly going to the most populated areas.
Thankfully, he did eventually return, excited to show off his new gauntlet, using it often to flash behind you and scare you.
“Ez, I swear if you keep scaring me, I cannot be held responsible for any damage to your stupid handsome face.”
*Smirk* “Handsome eh?”
“…Shut up…f-forget I said anything…the last thing you need is an inflated ego.”
But he didn’t forget.
Over the years as he gained notoriety and fame from his adventures, you were one of the few people who didn’t treat him any differently from how you had in the past.
As much as his ego craved the validation and fame, hoping they’d be enough to draw his parents back (god damn this man needs HELLA therapy), having someone who just treated him as Ezreal, not as the prodigal explorer, was really nice…
Once he was a little older, when he started getting invites to parties and banquets to talk about his adventures, you became his go-to date.
As he told you, “It’s just easier than dealing with the rabid fans. Also you’re good-looking, and I need someone with me that helps make me look good.”
That earned him a sarcastic eye roll and “Thanks, I guess?” from you.
With the fame and scale of his adventures, Ez collected a decent amount of wealth on top of what his family already had. As thanks for being his go-to plus-one, he’d always take care of the cost of your clothes and accessories for these events, sometimes even buying outfits for you himself; things that he thought would look good on you. He has shockingly good taste and understands your sense of style very well. (SUGAR DADDY FRIEND EZ, ANYONE?)
It was about a year and a half ago that things in your friendship changed. He’d been gone almost 3-months chasing a particularly legendary relic rumored to be surrounded by an incredible number of traps that were said to be impassable.
“Impassable” is Ez’s specialty, as you know.
Of course, his exuberant return made him a popular invite to all the parties. Everyone wanted to hear the tales of Piltover’s prodigal explorer.
You were just fucking relieved to have your best friend home, alive, and in one piece.
NSFW
It was after one of these fancy parties when things popped off. There’d been an open bar during the dancing portion of the evening. Both of you were tipsy. Both of you were giggly. Ez gave you a piggy back ride home since you decided to kick off your incredibly uncomfortable heels the second you stepped outside. (What a gentleman.)
Once you arrived at your apartment, you invited him to stay the night as he always did since it was so late. Of course he agreed, grabbing the extra set of comfy clothes he stashed there for such situations and going to change while you prepared the couch for your usual post-event chats, setting up, pillows, blankets, snacks, and water.
As he came out of the hallway to the living room where you were, you could feel his gaze glued to you as you bent down to prep some things*
You: *blushing a little and not looking up at him* “Yes?”
Ez: *smirks* I thought that dress would look incredible on you, and I was right….you look even sexier than usual…
You looked up at him with wide eyes, your cheeks DEFINITELY pinker as your mind took a second to register what he said* “You thought about how I’d look in this? W-wait…you think I’m sexy?”
He just grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “Of course I did and of course I do. I’ve told you before that you’re good looking. Do you remember when you accidentally blurted out that I was handsome? Do you still think I am?”
You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your curiosity about the direction of this conversation that had you saying, “Yes I do. I’ve thought that for a long time. But, I don’t understand why that matters? You’re my best friend, Ezreal, and to be honest, dating you sounds like a nightmare. I already worry enough about you when you’re on your expeditions. Adding deeper feelings into that sounds like a one-way express ticket to driving myself insane.”
Ez chuckled, “Who said anything about dating or deeper feelings? Feelings are the last thing I need in my life (again THERAPY, MY GUY). But, the way I see it, I’m physically attracted to you, you’re physically attracted to me, neither of us want feelings involved beyond what our friendship is now….that sounds like an arrangement that is mutually beneficial…”
You straightened up and folded your arms together as you contemplate his words. “So like a…friends with benefits sort of thing?”
Ez grinned. “More like best friends with benefits, but yes. I have needs. I’m assuming based on the fact that you’re currently not seeing anyone either that you also have needs. We’ve helped each other out with problems many times….why not help each other with this one?”
Ok, but why was he making so much sense??
He was also right. You’d been going through a hell of a dry spell as of late. And hey, when it comes to people, you trust Ezreal more than anyone else. You’d also be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him extremely attractive. All of these reasons pinged around your mind until finally…
“Yes…ok…yes….tonight can serve as a test of sorts…but I’m not finalizing anything until tomorrow morning when both of us are stone cold sober. I have conditions, but they don’t apply at the moment. Got it?”
His response was an frantic nod and an eager “Got it,” as he stepped closer and reached for your waist to pull you to him.
Your response was to turn around and move your hair to the side. “Ah ah ah. First help me with my zipper…then show me what you can do, pretty boy…”
And BOY DID HE. Quite honestly he blew your mind (and your back out 😉). But we’ll get to that later on.
The important conversation happened the next morning after you two woke up tangled with each other.
Ez sat up and stretched, and you couldn’t help it as you sleepily reached over and gently ran your fingers along his abs.
He gave you a sleepy smirk and eyebrow raise before murmuring, “Already want another round, princess?”
This resulted in you pinching him before you also pulled yourself up, not even caring that he was baldly admiring you as you stretched. “I tentatively agree to this arrangement, Ez, but I want to talk about limits/conditions. Let’s talk as we get breakfast ready…”
Your conditions: 1. While this arrangement is in place, he’s not sleeping with anyone else and that includes on expeditions. You don’t want the chance for any sort of disease. 2. If either of you falls for another person, the arrangement needs to end (obviously you two would talk about it so the other knows what’s going on). 3. This can’t fuck up your friendship. Even if things physically end, your friendship needs to remain intact. You don’t want to lose your best friend. 4. No falling in love with each other.
Ez easily agreed to your terms and laid out his own: 1. He’ll see you when he gets home from expeditions and while he’s in Piltover. 2. If he’s not sleeping with anyone else, he hopes you won’t either. 3. He wants you to take care of yourself mentally (a bit ironic), physically, and emotionally, especially while he’s gone. (He won’t admit it, but when he’s on his explorations, he thinks/worries about you often and wonders if you’re doing alright.) 4. He wants to continue to buy you gifts and clothes, and he also wants to start including lingerie in said gifts if you tell him your sizes and style preferences.
The last one surprised you. “Lingerie? Why? That seems pretty intimate for fuck buddies. I certainly don’t expect such gifts from you.”
He was unfazed, instead just grinning and chuckling at the surprise on your face. “Believe it or not, it’s almost more for me than you. Undressing you will be like unwrapping my own present.”
Strangely enough you couldn’t find any fault with that logic.
You agreed to all his terms, and the two of you did a little hand shake to finalize things. A strangely small gesture to seal a massive change in your friendship.
(*Clears throat*) And now for the important part…
Definitely NSFW - AKA How is Ez as a FWB?
With an ego like his, you might think Ez is a selfish lover.
And you know what, maybe to start he is, but you shut that shit down IMMEDIATELY. Remember, you’re one of the only ones who can humble this man.
Once you make it clear that this arrangement will not be one-sided in pleasure if he wants it to continue, he makes sure to act RIGHT.
Like he really makes sure to blow your back out every single time (hell yeah go you).
A large part of his initial “selfishness” is hesitance. You two have known each other forever, but certainly not in this way. You telling him off? Honestly it reminds him that this is still you, his best friend, who he knows better than just about anyone. He is just learning about another side of you.
That is a confidence boost to him and banishes any insecurities he has.
(Unlike Heartsteel Ez who I see very primarily as a sub) Ez is a true switch maybe even leaning a little dom.
Whatever you need him to be, he can be.
Ezreal can be VERY PLAYFUL. Your normal friendship is filled with laughter and teasing, and your friendship in the bedroom is no different.
That doesn’t mean he can’t be serious though, he absolutely can be.
He’s the extremely teasing type, expertly working you up with just a couple touches in public or private and then making you wait.
For example, at those fancy dinners you go to with him? If anyone bothers to look under the tablecloth they'll see his hand on you, thumb tracing shapes into the fabric of your dress high up on your thigh, while he casually recounts the harrowing details of his adventures.
There you are, just sitting there trying to keep a straight face and not blush. He does it often enough you think you’d be used to it by now but NOPE.
You’re really glad no one expects you to tell any stories at those things because every time his hand creeps onto your thigh, your brain short circuits a little bit. Trying to tell a story or hold more than a passing conversation would be incredibly difficult.
And he KNOWS IT TOO. Once he’s not speaking, he always looks over at you and gives you a little smirk.
And if you do the same to him when he’s not telling stories? He will not stop leaning over and softly complaining in your ear.
You take great pleasure in whispering in his ear, “Can’t handle what you dish out? This is what you get, you teasing fuck.” (Or something similar lol.) Then you pass everything off as normal with a very quick, friendly, and casual kiss on the cheek which makes HIS brain short circuit a little bit.
Very touchy and LOUD in bed, especially when you’re on top. To the point you have had to cover his mouth with your hand and threaten to STOP riding him if he doesn’t get himself together and be quieter. He knows damn well how thin apartment walls in Piltover are.
Eventually you just gag him with something, because let’s be honest, it’s an empty threat. You definitely DON’T want to stop and he’s well aware of that.
When he’s on top though, Ez intentionally will do things that cause your sounds to get louder, making no attempts to quiet you. Instead he just smirks down at you and whispers in your ear, “Is that all you’ve got, princess? I know you can get louder than that…don’t hold back for me…”
Don’t be afraid to mark him. Feeling your nails dig into his shoulders/back or feeling you mark his collarbone with hickeys drives him absolutely wild.
Very very VERY good at dirty talk. His wit and sass translate extremely well to more intimate contexts. And when you dirty talk right back at him? He loves it when you’re just as playful as he is. His favorite is when you murmur something filthy in his ear and follow it up with a playful little nip somewhere.
Loves tying you up and loves being tied up, as well as using blindfolds.
Not the most attentive with aftercare, but hey, your arrangement isn’t romantic so you don’t mind. He at least stays the night/for breakfast and cuddles you which is honestly more than you thought he’d do.
It might be a bit inconsistent concerning WHEN you see Ezreal since who knows when he’ll come back from his expeditions, but whenever he is in Piltover, the two of you certainly have a good time. Besides, it’s good to know your best friend is home safe…at least until he sets off on another adventure.
Thank you for reading!! Omg I had so much fun with this one. And I’m already enjoying writing the associated fic. It was literally just supposed to be a one-shot and now there’s absolutely going to be multiple parts, so keep an eye out for that!
#ezreal#ezreal x reader#Ezreal headcanon#Ezreal headcanons#Ezreal smut#league of legends headcanon#reader insert#headcanon#smut#league of legends
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Wreak Havoc
Death Island!Leon S Kennedy x Umbrella!Reader one shot
Desc: When Leon & His team Rebecca, Chris, Jill & Claire run into an incident at Alcatraz Reader unexpectedly shows up to grab one of the secret antidotes for her personal studying on the new virus being sprung on humanity & in the process gets into a fight with Leon that makes it clear to everyone about the twos old love history.
Content: Violence, Mentions of heartbreak, Death Island!Leon x Umbrella!Reader, small Implication of sex, Angst, Fluff??, Happy ending :)
{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}
Word Count: 1913 Words used
Leon’s plans were far from what was currently happening, The poor guy was just trying to go on a tour around San Francisco but instead he was stuck in alcatraz fighting off the undead becoming infected & even uninfected and when he was told to grab the antidote to stop all of this mess he ran into you which was an even bigger pain in his ass.
You see, when you were In the technological area of the prison so was Leon & when you were standing across from him in the room his heart was already preparing to jump out of his chest, You two had multiple encounters on past missions that it even had a small fling between you guys but you couldn’t let him too close as you felt the fear of being heartbroken by the man who was your first love, first fuck & first everything so you cut ties with Leon before things got too ‘serious’ and clearly there was still that little spark between you both as you felt a small twang in your chest making direct eye contact with his blue eyes.
You couldn’t handle the tension or distraction that was stopping you from getting what you needed for Umbrella since they wanted to test this virus on multiple people like experiment subjects, the silence was loud & all the two of you heard were technical wires sparking and faint noises from some freakish monster fighting Jill so you cut the memories short & finally spoke up “You done reminiscing on the past yet” “As done as you are, what the hell are you doing here?” Your eyebrow perked up a bit as he held the gun attached to the belt of his jeans “I think you already know why i’m here Leon so let’s make those easy and start handing me the goddamn antidote” “Not happening doll, You know what happened last time you pulled one of these stunts.” You scoffed before stretching your arms “Fine you want to make this difficult and hurt your fragile ego we can play that game.”
Immediately as you started sprinting towards Leon he picked you up and practically body slammed you onto the floor but that still didn’t stop you from anything, you tugged on his hair and lifted both your legs and quickly wrapping them around his head putting his face in an area he was VERY familiar with & very much so missed but that’s for a later discussion, You flipped him over to where you were not on top and quickly got up but much to your demise he didn’t give up, he stood up and tried slamming you against a wall but you acted fast and held on multiple wires hanging from the ceiling and started swinging back & forth enough that you kicked him in the face “Son of a bitch!” You Snickered at his pain as he landed on a technical board while you jumped onto the ground and grabbed a random pole about to hit him with it but he held up his wrists against the pole causing it to bend “Why do you choose to make my life more- fuck!- more difficult than it already is sweetheart!”
You glared at him as he used one of his pet-names for you as a verbal weapon, he knew exactly what he did with that name and he knew it would hurt you in a place of your heart that you locked up & shoved away, “why do you choose to get in the way of MY job leon?” He smirked as he pushed you back as you attempted to hit him one more time “Because you’re so in love with me beautiful” You hated the way he spoke to you with sarcasm sometimes but you knew it was true, You were unexceptionally in love with him despite your split up & you hated it with your entire soul, “Just give up the act sweetheart you know your not gonna get what you want.” He warned as you kept trying to get swings at him but would fail miserably because of his dodges that he learned from training many years ago
After 30 more minutes of endless fighting you eventually gave up, both of you sat across from each other in two separate corners breathing heavily & sweat running down your guys’ face eventually leon broke the silence with a heavy sigh “Why do you do this to me Angel? You know how much you make my heart hurt when I see you so why do you do it?” You refused to acknowledge what he was saying to you so eventually he got annoyed and crawled his way towards you & almost placed a hand on your knee but you quickly pressed your high heel boot against his forehead & lightly pushed him back to where he sat on his stomach sighing “Sweetheart why did you leave? was it something I did back then I just don’t get it? What did I do?” You became irritated with his nagging for answers so eventually you fessed up. “It wasn’t You Leon. I think you know that by now. I was scared of you breaking my heart at some point so I prevented it from happening by dumping you before you could do it to me.”
Leon looked at you with sympathetic eyes while sitting up and moved your leg out of the way to cup your face into his hands while he hummed softly “You know that I would have never left you right? No matter how fucked up your little mind is I find it extremely fucking attractive to the point where I even bought you an engagement ring doll.” You rolled your eyes trying to move your head out of his grasp but he didn’t budge, “Yeah right, I highly doubt tha-“ “It’s true sweetness, I even have it in my wallet to this day after all of those years.” You watched him move one of his hands off of your face and digging into the pocket of his pants and pulling out a wallet he still somehow had on him & fishing out a ting that was slowly starting to show off how old it was getting & placed it into the palm of your hand “You know I never lie Doll face.”
You felt your breath hitch slightly but you gave the ring back to him and just around that time a guy as buff as leon but with short brown hair busted through the doors “Goddamnit Leon where the fuck have you been! And who the hell are you?!” You glared as Leon stood up & pulled you up along with him “Don’t worry about it Chris, let’s go before that weird fucking monster eats up rebecca.” Rebecca? Who the fuck is Rebecca? You didn’t have time to blurt out this question since Leon was dragging you along, Once your eyes settled on that big creature that was swinging it’s weird large fucking tentacles at what seemed to be Jill & Claire you felt pure fear run through your veins
“Rebecca!” You snapped your head as you heard Leon shout out this woman’s name once again but then you saw her run towards Leon with a box of what seemed to be the antidotes of the virus and even samples of said virus. You watched as she hugged around him in relief while blood ran down her face and it made the blood inside of your own body start boiling that you snatched the box she held & quickly held out your gun at Leon, Chris & Rebecca “we’re going to kill whatever the fuck that thing is back there & we’re all going to go our merry separate ways and i’m going to be taking this” “Who the hell do you think you ar-“ you quickly aimed back at Rebecca with an anger expression plastered on your face in which Cho Leon took note of “Watch it Bill Nye I will easily shoot whatever is in that fucking large cranium of yours.” Chris glared you down but you didn’t care, you put your gun away set the box down and started loading up some sort of large machine gun that could possibly take down whatever creature you saw Jill & Claire fight with, Chris was busy making sure Rebecca wasn’t wounded or infected while Leon practically hovered over you trying to help but you would shove him away “What the hell was that about huh? You’re not taking shit from us got it?”
You kept ignoring him, just as you got to make the machinery work the creature had slammed of its tentacles on the area you & leon were currently located causing you to fall down & hang onto a piece of metal while Leon was slammed against a wall “SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP ME?” You saw Leon quickly spring up and run directly towards you while Chris got ahold of a large rocket launcher & continuously blow up the creature wreaking havoc on everybody, You hear Claire shout something out towards Jill & Rebecca run towards You & Leon to help him grab you as he was slowly sliding off of the platform, Leon quickly grabbed onto your hand dragging you back up causing him & Rebecca To fall backwards while you rolled onto the side as you groaned loudly after just now realizing there was a deep gash in your side & due to you quickly loosing blood you passed out.
Eventually you woke up but it was outside of the prison on the ground patched up in stitches & gauze wrapped around the stitched up gash, You sit up quickly and wince causing Leon to move away from his group & kneel towards you “Good-morning sunshine, Thought I lost you for a second.” He chuckled out lightly while your eyebrows furrowed “Is it dead?? What are we doing out he-“ “it’s more than dead don’t worry.” Jill reassured with a smile on her dirtied face “We haven’t seen you in a while, It’s good to finally see you.” Claire spoke out walking towards you “Thanks..It’s nice seeing you guy’s too..” Leon cleared his throat indicating he wanted to speak with you so Claire & Jill walked off towards chris & Rebecca ass he grabbed ahold of your hands “Sweetheart I think you know we will never be able to avoid each other so that’s why I’m going to ask- not even ask TELL you to Marry me, give us an actual chance & be with me. I’ll handle all of your Umbrella bullshit an-“
You smiled up at him and leaned up as much as you could to grab his face and kiss him “Fine. I’ll marry you.” He grinned and just as he was about to kiss you deeply Rebecca stepped towards you “Y/N right..? I’ve heard a lot about you & I just wanted to address that..Leon & I? Have nothing between us an-“ You smile reassuringly “It’s fine rebecca, Don’t worry about it.” Rebecca smiled in relief & congratulated the both of you & eventually a helicopter came around and picked you all up & brought you all to a facility.
2 years later since then Leon & You got Married & Even had a child recently! A sweet little girl who had the both of you wrapped around her finger. Life was doing great you would say, Until You had gotten a call from a very very old friend of yours Albert Wesker, Alerting you that your work is needed immediately for yet, another outbreak.
xtripleiiix’s masterlist
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#oh my fucking goooood#leon s kennedy fanfiction#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy fluff#resident evil x reader#jill valentine#chris redfield#claire redfield#death island leon#Spotify
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sub!𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷 💙𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 (18+)
⇢ gentle femdom (n.) :: a variant of bdsm emphasizing affectionate play with a pliant sub rather than hard kinks, brat taming, sadism, or hierarchy.
pairing. pleaser!bangchan x femdom!reader
WARNINGS. ⚠️ rated m, soft sub chris, light restraints, studio and car sex, mommy kink, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, frottage, shy chan, vanilla positions, lack of aftercare bc chan sleeps fast 😅, self-esteem issues, food play mention, established relationship
★ wc. 3k
↳ [ // 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] a soft hc for for valentine’s 💌 following lee know’s version, more sub!skz worldbuilding! good boy chan agenda going strong here... truth be told, it’s always interesting to write leaders showing their true face. not sure if i’ll make this a complete series due to my standard high word counts; if there’s a member u absolutely want to read about take to the replies/asks, if multiple people chime in for someone i see what i can do! as for now, sub chan enthusiasts enjoy! 💛
read it on ao3 | 💋 masterlist 💋
a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Fast asleep within a mere five minutes. Like an ice statue frozen for a thousand years. If this guy puts the strain of having sex on top of his already endless to-do list, he’s gonna doze off in Guinness World record time some day. In his vocabulary, what even is aftercare? He’s like don’t worry mate, I’m fine, maybe a warm glass of water, now good nig—zzZ.
When you didn’t know each other so well yet, you planned to run him a nice bath and all, but reality hit with Chan entering the dream land after getting a spanking. So, in the end, aftercare is just handing him a pillow and toweling him down while he’s already in the twilight zone. See you tomorrow! Reducing the craziness of sex doesn’t really make him stay awake, nor do you want him to — any sleep is good sleep for Chan, anyway. If sex exhaustion is his justification for sleep rather than editing another whole damn album, why not. Play with you is his best excuse to nap.
b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Chan likes his arms and wow-factor shoulders generally, but it’s not limited to them. Some days, he’s way happier with something else (proud of leg day, let’s go). On other days, he doesn’t like anything and tries to ignore that. Every mirror an enemy. The next day, he feels better about something else entirely. Stray Kids going through so many bold outfits and intricate stylings has sort of confused him about how he naturally looks sometimes. Chan is not content with his bare face, but feels better after you pepper it with kisses.
When it comes to you, he’d never say a thing about a preference. You won't be able to tell where Chan’s mind goes the most, and it generally doesn’t hyperfocus on one body part anyway. Does he like legs best, hips, hands, back, your chest? No one knows. All he says is, „I really like your figure“ — and that’s all. Of course he thinks his domme is hot as fuck, in fact, he thinks she fucking slays. He’s just a gentleman about it.
You like his eyebrows and curly bangs a lot. In your eyes, he has a really handsome and memorable face to begin with (that eyeshadow game makes it even better, holy cow). Even classically handsome, even if he doesn’t really believe it. You saying „Damn you look good!“ when he puts on a tight outfit that accentuates his body shape, it really flatters him to the core. You like his sexy face chains and accessories, chokers galore, and virtually any type of harness fitted all across his torso or legs. Chan is a wet BDSM dream come true and he doesn’t even realize it, does he.
c= cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Actually not that into it. His own cum, I mean. Chan usually forgets to rub one out even when he feels a little twitch while working. Too focused. He ignores his libido often. Same idea extends to cumming inside you as far as vanilla is concerned. Chan knows it’s awkward to clean it all out. He’d rather wear protection and release on his own stomach, then quickly get rid of it if he’s not dozing already.
He blushes hearing you talk dirty about semen, but the real thing? Chris isn’t obsessed like some other people would be. It’s a necessary evil to him, and just another thing bodies do. His orgasms tend to underwhelm him or disappoint no matter what he does, he’s not as confident pushing himself to a maximum of pleasure by himself. He depends a lot on you to chase a high sometimes, which makes him feel deficient. You notice that he beats himself up and suggest some more gentle femdom forms of sex that focus more on sensuality and less adrenaline. Works way better for him. Besides modeling harnesses like a pro, Chan is actually a die-hard soft sub.
On the other hand… Duality. Selfless Chan is totally focused on having you completely soaked at his very creative fingertips. Cum play 5000. He’s a musician. And producer. And dancer. And singer. And rapper. Safe to say that fella has rhythm.
And: Don’t worry. He’s not the type to edge and finger you recklessly. Chan isn’t brutal, nor is he punishing. Always the exact opposite. Pleasing, pleasing, pleasing. His submissive tendencies show almost everywhere. The most daring thing he’d do is tease you with a bright smile, which probably makes you wanna bust a nut on the same spot, ain’t it so. You Chan hard stan, you. He constantly asks for feedback and wants your own hands to do it with him so he can learn: That good boy. How that tiny spot of yours can make your whole body feel so electric is quite astounding to him. Getting you off and making you laugh? His favorite downtime.
d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Other people probably assume his ultimate kink and darkest fantasy would be something like `Chan being selfish and cruel for once´. Just doing something because he craves it. Or something like topping you for fun, large and in charge, leader mode. Little did they know that Chan’s most secret wish is you finally meeting his parents for an evening of barbecue. Ain’t he typical.
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
More than you think, less than you assume. He’s a lovely Libra. The golden middle of everything is true for him. He’s not dared to directly approach any crush he had, but yes, always prompting a shy and nervous response, he’s the one who’s been approached quite a couple times. By a handful of dominants who saw right through him, too, yes. A bit of flirting over some dinner did went down, but only a dozen dates turned into some tentative, makeshift sexual activity at their place. Obviously not the dorm, he’d never do that. He’s not Hwang Hyunjin getting pegged — next to Lee Know, gaming — by every girl in a ten-mile radius.
Chan also received an Inkigayo sandwich and had a genuinely lovely time. It went on for two months until it got a bit awkward. All in good spirits, though. Because seriously. Caring as he is, and always with the other person’s well-being in mind, how could Chan ruin a breakup. If there is a split, the transition period to a new chapter will be seamless, not heartbreaking. A few tears will fall, the chest is heavy, but he’s not gonna engage in a war of roses and lose face. He does have complaints, but he’s no mean guy. Even when he has a reason to accuse an ex, he will swallow it. The shit he’s bottled up. Chan will feel burdened, down for quite some days, but focus on moving on properly when it’s possible.
f = favorite position (this goes without saying)
Undecided. Doesn’t want your head too far away nor too close. He’s afraid of accidents, hurting your face somehow, he’s a little paranoid. A bit of movement distance is good for soft missionary, it can be bridged by kissing. Chan uses his arms to prop himself up, gyrating so fucking heavenly, and you can grab his ass. All the praise you’ll shower him with. You’ll often be having sex in a back hug, that’s a good one, too. Especially seated, with Chan leaning forward a little to meet your spine with his chest. All you see is legs legs legs twitching under you, damn good view.
Girl on top, however, occupies both of your minds all the time. That’s where you feel at home. Comfortable for both of you, Chan can be more passive, you active. Your bed or couch needs lots of pillows, though, it’s too empty and scary for him otherwise. The floor is off limits, not cozy enough, you agree. You’re a cozy couple. Chan draped over a hard surface on his back, naked, is a sexy as fuck image in your head, but the reality is not snuggly and warm enough.
g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Total goofball, you love the guy’s sexy time humor. His crinkly eyes ad triangle-shaped dimples (yes they’re literally like that) always alleviate the moment and bridge an awkward silence or pause. Chan has a soft spot for your outrageous jokes, too. Your every word has him almost hanging by a thread so to speak, he’s a very active listener. Dirty talk and conversation absolutely dominate your sex life, silent sexy time is a natural, mutually agreed upon no-go.
h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Clean pits, clean everything. He’s pretty economical with it. Adapts to your wishes, puts lots of effort in. If it’s gotta be a hairy situation, the rules are even stricter, even if he sometimes forgets to maintain it, which makes Chan feel terribly sorry. „Won’t happen again! Oh geez.“ Uneven hairs piss him off, he’s the legend of trimming everything in place.
i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Can’t stay serious and focused for two seconds. Says a cheesy thing as soon as you even blink.
j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Too busy with his beautiful fingers between your labia to think about himself. As always: Chan gives and gives and gives without ever taking. When you’re driving to the gym and he takes the passenger seat, prepare for masturbation galore — all while he doesn’t touch himself one bit. You reward him with a little improvised frottage with his upright dick crushed against your ass later on the backseat. Both of you in your underwear: Because it’s hotter. Chan comes pretty fast, his cock is so sensitive to being squeezed by you. Turn around while you grind on him because his surprised facial expressions are just glorious. His tight body in his sports clothing feels so damn good, you can do this all day long.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks)
Feeding each other delicious sweets and random food bits. He’s totally enamored with this. You can be silly together, carefree, he can be your cutest little one. Not entirely in an age play sense, more as a casual endearment.
l = location (favorite places to do the do)
So, besides the car and bed. His production studio chair is surprisingly not the way to go. Too narrow, moves around too much, spins at every damn movement. Studio couch is more like it. The amount of times you’ve made out on there, the members would so judge him for being thirsty. But you see the practical aspect. Increased support, decently elastic if not a little bouncy, and a comfortable surface that’s easy to clean for him. It’s not like Chan keeps typing and producing with you on his lap at the table. Come on, he focuses on you. When you sit next to him or on him casually to see what he’s working on, sure, he will go on as usual though. But it’s often him who wants to sit on your lap to get pampered, or between your legs non-sexually if he’s too heavy for you. At home, any spot will do, long as it has a pillow fort.
m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Affection and courtesy. Compared to some other members, say Felix, Chan doesn’t submit to try stuff out and to chase a kinky curiosity. The principle and chivalry counts for him instead. Being a domme pleaser and body worship advocate 5000 is what keeps Chan coming back for more. Stress relief is a side effect, pun intended.
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Hard domming you. He has leader energy on stage, but privately, mercurial goofball he is, it just doesn’t suit him. Chan would never make you scream or sob, and he can’t use a whip on your ass either. That image is so strange to both of you. Although he matches the aesthetic of a hard dom when he’s dressed up like one, face chain wolf gang and all, actually doing all this stuff creeps him out. He recoils at the thought of smacking you roughly or doling out a harsh anal punishment. Raw and hateful sex is simply not his schtick. Again, he’s Hyunjin’s opposite on the submission scale: Mister Hwang is very open to being demolished in a crazy hate fuck by any dominant daring enough. That’s where smacking and violently punishing is very welcome. Chan, he prefers a forehead kiss to make him squeal.
Chan would be all shifty on his feed and be confused constantly if he had to dominate in a cold and relentless way. Being a soft dom is all he could muster, which would simply wind up him service subbing in a covert way — no one’s surprised. And the major obstacle is, Chan simply cannot switch off his charm. He just can’t. It’s in his tone of voice all the time. The only exception happens when he reprimands the members for not taking something seriously enough, but well — he doesn’t have to pull that voice on you. You know the stakes of this relationship and meet him with a logical mindset. You take topping him very seriously like a fucking pro, in fact. Chan got nothing on you, he thinks he’d look like an amateur.
If we’re going there at all: Chan can’t stand the whole kink of say, his girl age regressing to her toddler days, diapers and everything. He’d be like what… It’s too much for him, and his whole Stray Kids’ father role doesn’t have to be his entire identity. Chan appreciates a sexual slash romantic partner who is level-headed and talks to him on equal grounds. He doesn’t want someone tugging at his sleeve all the time talking in a baby voice, he prefers more mature flirting and interactions. He’s the one getting shy, his domme is the wise one. So: No infantilizing his girlfriend. They’re called Stray Kids and not Stray Adults, so he already fosters the whole group as a full-time job — back at home, he’s looking for an authority instead.
o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Oh shit, here they come. Those beautiful, pinkish, big and juicy lips. They’re wonderful and shapely, just right, so puckered. It’s the ace up his sleeve! You’ll grind the chapstick off of `em at every opportunity. He’ll quickly get fantastic at giving head, the eye contact is always a stunner. The lips are usually outclassing his tongue, though you should never underestimate someone who works a mic for a living.
His consistency… I swear. Completely deprioritizes receiving. He’s clumsy with eating you out in the first month of dating, hence why he wants to improve. Although it irks him that he’s not a natural talent, your comforting words will help him. „Not everyone can be born as Hwang Hyunjin.“ — „So true, bestie. Or Felix, too.“ He embraces his beginner mindset and hey, come on: That he tries so hard is worth ten sex toys, the effort and dedication counts. Like he can suck on a dildo in no time. Not ready for the strap yet, but that’s ok. His progress tends to be astounding, he remembers his mishaps and strengths very well. Nerdy Chan writes down what he should keep in mind, that’s a hell of a man right here.
p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Nothing subspace-inducing, we’re keeping it midrange speed here. Though, remember this guy is a literal sports student, athlete, multi talent. He can pull off anything you wish for, you just gotta ask. Nevertheless, he’s too sweet to go and say „let’s just fuck like rabbits, 3, 2, 1, go!“ — some other certain members are more fond of that. Lee Know, Hyunjin, Han, to name the holy trinity of dick destruction. They just wanna get wrecked. CBT and everything. Chan loves pleasure and passion more than ending up ruined, his workload does that for him.
q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Yep. Pretty boy likes those. Big fan. Any day. Treats the two of you with cooking afterwards.
r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Sexually? Not at all. Besides a little fun and games (read: flirting and pillow fights), he’s beyond mellow. Bangchan is the last person on earth to demand that you amp up your dominatrix game to do something questionable. As in, to experiment with even more extreme practices, electro play, knife play, sounding, that stuff. Or to put on specific, highly sexualized outfits. Again, that would contradict your coziness at home.
He’s not a fan of pushing his dominant to their limit, or having a stake in their appearance whatsoever. You’re not there for his appetite, because he’s the snack. As is good practice, he coordinates a sexual scene together with you, and can make cute wink-wink suggestions: But they’re literally harmless. Such as, „maybe… tie my hands with a ribbon or something?“, and it’s all in an open-ended question format just like that. It’s up to you to allow it or not.
In other words: Bangchan’s inner power bottom is what? Non-existent. Which differs wildly from some other members. Han would totally beg you to slap the shit out of him just so he can experience a shock of adrenaline. Bratty Felix would tease his domme with his ass until she tames him with pinches, clamps, and squeezing. Chan would never even consider asking to be fucking wrestled. It’s 100% you who suggests kinks that carry more danger, like heavy chains with collars, or using a Sybian on him, although that’s not risky from a pro’s perspective. He takes the backseat and will most definitely not provoke any trouble or unsafe etiquette willingly.
s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He took ballet classes. All you need to know. Strength and tension and discipline are words not unfamiliar to him. His dick won’t last long, but the rest of his body will: Unless he danced like crazy that day. Which means time for spoiling and caressing him, talking him through, tucking him into bed. No hard domination please.
t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Bondage rope, yes. Red lights was right, he’s a rope bunny. Other particular toys no… with some room for experimenting sometimes. But he’s not a crazy toy collector, one quality vibrating aid to get you off is worth a 100 random items that he’d buys just to buy them. So, no to that. He’s particular and looks for what really fits the two of you. Strap-on experiments are fine, he quite likes to take it on all fours until one of you cramps. You’re not powering through, but that one’s a long and prep-heavy session. Blowing his back out is probably a bad idea, going slow and steady with lots of reassurance works way better.
u = unfair (how much they like to tease)
Chan’s ‚explanation voice‘ and constant questions can drag out foreplay for half an hour. By any means: The Chansplaining needs to find it’s due end. You get down to business by just unzipping his damn pants. A call to inspect your sexy sub is the perfect shortcut, admittedly just to see his thick package. „Take your cock out, honey. Let me take a good look at it.“ — instantly flustered Chan is putty in your hands.
v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
„Yes, mommy!“ — that’s medium loud. Can be more silent, too, but never not super breathy. Drastic spikes in volume, not so much. It’s a constant moaning. Though, I might be understating this, the whole group has a very high benchmark for volume. 80% of Stray Kids are fucking screamers.
w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Chan talks about how much he loves having sex with you all while he’s fast sleep constantly. Babbling in his dreams is not uncommon, the members seem to be on his mind a lot unsurprisingly, but this one stands out to you.
x = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
What he’s got in his sweatpants is like a Monsta X song. I don’t know what else to liken it to. Thing is, he’s not working with a whopping 10 inches. Who the hell carries that. He’s in a comfortable but aesthetically pleasing upper midrange, and really not too awkwardly long at all. It absolutely wouldn’t suit him. Girth and full balls is where it’s at. Also: Big ass alert. Your designated smack target and stress ball. You’re not surprised that Lino acts the way he does given how um cheeky the members are. Chan’s has such a nice curve, fuck.
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He’s not Felix going „Lemme suck your tiddies real quick“ at every opportunity. Chan is more like „Okay, can I…?“ And he always ends up surprised how easily he gets going. It’s nothing when compared to his awkward jack-off sessions at work. You know what he’s capable of with one glance. Chan is a sensualist. Someone so sporty knows how to get their blood pumping. And: He’s channeled a fuck ton of his sexual energy into dance and his ten thousand other physical talents. You know precisely how to train him to get the desired results.
z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
You can use a damn stopwatch. He’s gone, ciao, bye, hasta luego, see you soon. In your arms, looking as angelic as ever. At the end of the day, Chan’s rapid deep sleep is pretty cute. This sub is a little innocent cherub. He’s in good hands with you.
read it on ao3
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💕 likes, rbs, comments v much appreciated, let’s talk 💕
© 2017-2023 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.
#sub!skz#stray kids smut#sub!stray kids#skz smut#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#dom!reader#stray kids#skz imagines#skz headcanons#sub!skz x dom!reader#bang chan smut#sub!bang chan#bang chan#skz chan#smut alphabet#smut a-z#long post
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A Birthday Threesome for ‘Suki (Bakugou x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
"Two pretty sluts for the price of one? Lucky me."
Pairing: Pro!Bakugou x Black!Fem!Reader x Your Fem!Best Friend
Synopsis: In which you and your best friend decide to help your man see the joy in birthdays by giving him a threesome. Also, Bakugou likes butt plugs. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUBBY 🎈
Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GTFO), Sub to Dom!Bakugou, Dom to sub!Fem!Reader, Race of Reader not Specified, Threesome, Birthday Sex, Anal Play, Food Play, Prostate Massaging, Edging, Double Blowjob, Mild Girl on Girl (just kissing), Spit Play, Cunnilingus, Multiple Positions, Unprotected PIV, Squirting, Creaming, Fingering, Overstimulation, Mild Degradation, Three Way Kissing, Cum Eating, Creampies, Facials, Dirty Talk, Three Way Cuddle
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: I'm uploading this ahead of time cuz it’s my boy’s birthday!! 🥳🥳 This one is kinda different, but I hope y’all like it! Enjoy! 🥰 -Jazz
*********
Bakugou had never been the one for birthdays.
It’s not like he hated them, he’s told you once before while sitting in the spring sun for a picnic. “I just don’t see the hype with ‘em,” he said when you asked about it. “So what I turned a year older than I was last year? So what I’m still on this fuckin’ earth? What’s the big deal?”
“But birthdays are something to celebrate!” You had protested, which he thought was cute. “The way I see it, you can either be a year older while alive or you could be a year older six feet under. Birthdays are for celebrating with the people you love.”
“And I do,” he had argued. “I celebrate with you, don’t I?” You hummed indifferently as he rubbed your feet that were settled in his lap. “Look, babe, I get it; you like the surprise parties and birthday cakes and razzle-dazzle. I don’t need all that shit. I don’t even need a card.”
His response had definitely rubbed you the wrong way. To you, birthdays were a time of celebration! To be on this earth for a certain number of years, especially with the shit the economy, capitalism, and COVID brought, was an accomplishment in itself. And to be able to celebrate another birthday with your man was even better!
So, being the loving, great girlfriend you were, of course, you’d think of the best way to turn your man’s frown upside down and show him the beauty of birthdays. And what better way to do that than to plan a birthday threesome?
Yes, a birthday threesome.
You and Bakugou had always been a kinky couple. Anything that you could bring into the bedroom that the both of you could enjoy, you’d do it. Handcuffs and rope? Tried ‘em. Blindfolding? Temperature play? Most definitely. Bakugou loved you calling him “daddy” and seeing you squirm underneath him as he edged you to oblivion (being the asshole he is).
But what he loved more than anything was to submit to you, too. He never expressed it to your mutual friends or tried to show it as much, but you knew he loved it when you took full control over him. His body, his mind, and his cock were all yours for the night to bend to your will. Add in a butt plug and some pegging, and he was ready to give you everything.
However, the thought of having another person you could watch break him apart and share in that domination was hotter than you initially realized before coming up with your deviously-hot birthday surprise.
You and Bakugou had discussed a threesome before, but Bakugou was very possessive. He’d be ready to blast someone to space for just looking at you. Plus, you didn’t know where to even look for the best third piece…until you did.
Your best friend. A woman who was just as hot as you and whom you trusted wholeheartedly. A woman who also happened to have a secret attraction to your boyfriend that she confessed to you over cocktails one night. A woman you’ve caught Bakugou subtly checking out a few times during social outings…but obviously not subtle enough.
You’d never been angered at him for it, especially when he’d shown you many times before that you were the only woman for him. “I belong to you,” he’d say to you, his sweaty forehead to yours, cock buried deep inside of you. So the idea of sharing such a hunk with someone who also was attracted to him would be much hotter than you initially thought.
When you’d come to her with the idea, she’d first look at you like you were insane. “You sure?” she’d ask, uncertain about this. But after some reassurance on your end, she’d be ecstatic to be a part of your birthday surprise. Just imagine it now, how’d it all pan out:
The day of Bakugou’s birthday, you’d pepper him in kisses and make him his favorite banana pancakes that morning before shooing him out the door for a spa day before he could initiate birthday sex.
“A $100 Hand & Stone coupon?” he’d grumble when you handed him the card, scowling at you. “Babe, I told you that you didn’t–”
“Hush!” you’d say, pressing a finger to his plump lips. “Every hero needs a little relaxation, so this is yours. You need a massage.” His vermillion eyes would twinkle mischievously. “I need a massage, alright,” he’d growl, pressing your hand to his groin. “Think you can help me with that?”
Ignoring him, you’d shoo him out the door of your shared apartment. When he finally begrudgingly left for nearly two hours of relaxation, you’d spend the whole day prepping for tonight. You’d clean the apartment from top to bottom, fix Bakugou his favorite dinner, leave it in the fridge for later, and call up your friend to tell her to come over. She’d arrive, happy to help you prepare for everything.
“You sure we have time?” she’d ask, grabbing some lemon pledge to wipe down the counters.
“The spa treatment is an all-day special,” you’d explain as you swept. “He’ll be out for hours.” That answer was enough to reassure your friend that you’d have all the time in the world to clean and cook.
When your man finally came home later that evening, relaxed from his massage, skin glowing from his seaweed mask, and feeling loose from the champagne the spa offered back to back, he’d walk in to find the apartment suspiciously empty. “Baby?” he’d call. “You in here? I’ll admit, that stupid ass spa treatment was nice.”
You wouldn’t answer. Your lack of response would make Bakugou nervous and he’d contemplate calling you until he ventured into the kitchen and saw what’d lie for him on the kitchen counter. There would be a red velvet cake (his favorite flavor) sitting there adorned in buttercream frosting and decorated in red and orange flowers that appear to also look like fire blasts. On the top would be writing in red food coloring that read, “Happy Birthday Katsuki!”
Bakugou would be confused yet touched. Did you do all of this while he was out? Before he could ponder on it more, he’d be taken aback by the faint scent of roses and soft giggling coming from upstairs. “Up here, babe!” you’d call.
Filled with relief that you were safe (just hiding), Bakugou would venture up the steps. “What is all this?” he’d call you. “I told you, I didn’t need all this, baby, really.” But as he walked upstairs, his heart would pound methodically against his ribcage in anticipation of what was to come next.
But nothing could’ve prepared him for what he found waiting for him in your shared master bedroom. When he pushed open the bedroom door, he’d find a trail of red rose petals leading right over to his birthday presents: you and your friend, sitting on the couch near the window overlooking the city lights, dressed in only the most expensive lingerie.
Bakugou’s greedy eyes would trail over the skin exposed along with how well the lingerie filled out your bodies’ natural curves. The cups of your lace bras framed your breasts so nicely, and he could only imagine what the back looked like. Sitting on the floor by the couch was a bucket where a bottle of champagne and glasses sat, giving him the impression that tonight really was for celebrating…as if seeing you and your friend decked in lingerie wasn’t an indication enough.
You smiled at him as he stood there frozen on the threshold of the bedroom. “Happy birthday, baby,” you’d purr. “Well? You gonna just stand there or are you gonna join us?”
Bakugou wouldn’t need to be told twice. The door would be closed and his shoes would be off immediately before he rushed to join you on the couch like he had lit his ass on fire.
The rest of the night would play in flashes of ecstasy as a surprise after surprise unfolded:
You and your friend would sit Bakugou down between you with a glass of chilled champagne and ask him if he wanted this, only moving forward when he gave you an enthusiastic growl of “fuck yes”.
After giving each other a look of pure excitement over finally getting the pro out of his clothes, you and your friend would strip Bakugou out of his clothes, giggling at his sharp intakes of breath and swearing. “Someone’s excited,” you’d coo into his ear, grinning at the way he shivered.
“You shittin’ me?” he’d growl as he watched your friend’s soft hands that looked so small compared to his unbuckle his belt. “I’ve got two of the prettiest women in my bedroom right now. Who the fuck wouldn’t be excited?”
Once you’d get him out of his clothes, you’d watch your friend admire his muscled body like he is carved from granite stone. You wouldn’t blame her, especially with the way the silver moonlight would shine through the window and illuminate your boyfriend’s mouthwatering six-pack and the dragon tattoo crawling up his right ribcage. His thick, muscular thighs would be spread, giving both of you girls a good peek at the outline of his dick in his designer briefs.
Seeing your friend stare Bakugou down like he was a masterpiece would turn you on more than you believed. Your pussy would gush knowing that the same man that is yours is so wanted by everyone else. It would turn you on even more to see Bakugou stare her down with the same lust–filled stare, the act of sharing him with another person arousing you further.
“Go on,” you’d encourage your friend. “Touch him.” She’d give you an uncertain stare before Bakugou would lean back against the couch, allowing her perfect access to his body. You and your friend would then run your hands all over him–up and down his abs, over his biceps, caressing his warm skin. The low moans of appreciation Bakugou would make at feeling hands all over him would work their magic on both of you, filling you with anticipation and need.
However, Bakugou was a greedy man, and he’d try to touch both of your asses looking so plump and full in your thongs. You and your friend would then make it very clear that you both are in control and not him by slapping his hands away when he tried to touch you.
“Uh-uh, baby,” you’d purr, smiling sexily at his irritated scowl. “No touching…not yet. You’re ours right now, so just sit there and take what we give you like a good boy.”
And shockingly enough, Bakugou would listen, too turned on to fuss. He’d do nothing but watch as you and your friend’s hands would caress his hardened bulge in his briefs, your lips on his neck; his chest; behind his ear. “That’s his sweet spot,” you’d whisper to your friend, giggling at your boyfriend’s soft gasp as you squeezed his shaft in his briefs.
After some teasing and earning a wet spot at the tip of his dick, you and your friend would finally pull down his briefs. Like a sexy Jack-in-the-box, Bakugou’s cock would finally spring free–thick, long, curved, veiny, and so, so fucking hard. Your friend would stare wide-eyed at it before cooing to Bakugou, “You have a beautiful dick, Dynamight.”
“Bet you wanna taste it,” you’d giggle. “That’s what these are for: to make it sweeter.” You’d then reach down into the chilled champagne bucket where you’d present a bottle of chocolate syrup and a can of whipped cream to Bakugou. He’d stare down at the goodies, perplexed. “Da fuck are those for?” he’d ask.
“For you, silly,” you’d giggle as your friend excitedly clapped her hands. “C’mon, you’ll love it!” Bakugou continued to stare down at the condiments fit for ice cream. “It’s part of your surprise, babe,” you’d coo before pecking his lips. “Let us show you.”
After coaxing him to sit back and enjoy his champagne, you and your friend would proceed to squirt chocolate syrup and whipped cream along his dick, giggling at the way he’d shiver at the coolness of the continents hitting his skin. “Don’t get any of this shit on my floor,” he’d growl. “Otherwise, you’re both gettin’ punished.”
You and your friend would share a mischievous look before you’d look up at him, batting your lashes. “Is that a promise, daddy?” you’d purr before giving the tip of his dick a lick. The sugary scents of whipped cream and chocolate would hit your nose as the sweetness of both condiments hit your tastebuds. Bakugou sighed at the feeling.
Two sets of wet hands would then wrap around Bakugou’s dick, stroking him up and down, the tender skin of his shaft moving along with your hands and smearing the sugary-sweet continents around his shaft. He’d groan and moan at the feeling of your soft little hands on him, his head tilted back against the couch and eyes closed.
After warming up, you and your friend would each share a turn with your mouths on his cock–sucking, licking, and slurping up the whipped cream, syrup, and precum bubbling at the head. Bakugou would stare at your two pretty mouths slurping up his dick, tongues sensually caressing the head and shaft, through hooded, red slits.
“You both look so beautiful,” he’d whisper breathlessly, chest heaving rapidly and slowly losing it at seeing you both on your knees, chocolate and cream all over your mouths and lips.
You smile up at him in thanks before taking his balls coated in whipped cream into his mouth, lightly sucking on each as your friend licked and sucked along the bulbous head of his cock. “You taste so good, baby,” you’d moan through his balls in his mouth. “Even without the chocolate or the cream.” Bakugou’s toes would curl and his moans would be loud, echoing along the bedroom walls.
You’d later go further and have him in your throat, gagging along the head, dribbling saliva down to his balls that your friend would generously fondle as you deepthroated him. “Doesn’t she look so good, Dynamight?” she’d purr. “Doesn’t your girl look so nice with your cock in her throat?”
Then it’d be her turn. You’d teach her how to slowly take him into her mouth before gagging on his cock shoved deep down her throat. You’d gently push her head down to take more of him, demanding that Bakugou watch another girl take your cock. “Watch her,” you’d whisper to him. “You think she’s better than me? Does her throat feel good, ‘Suki?”
Bakugou wouldn’t shut up, too deep in euphoria to silence himself. He’d be losing his shit when your friend finally popped off of his cock with a gasp, her mouth wet and dripping in spit and chocolate. You two would then proceed to kiss with his wet dick sandwiched between your mouths. There would be nothing but the lewd sound of breathless moans and wet slurps as you erotically made out, tongues swirling and soft lips caressing his shaft.
The erotic sight would be too much for him. “Gonna cum!” he’d warn you in a strained voice. “C-Can’t stop it! Gonna…ah!”
When he finally came, it’d be messy and quick, spurts of cum spilling out of his cock that would splash all over your hands and mouths. He’d sound straight out of a porno, his whimpers and grunts making your toes curl.
You and your friend would greedily slurp up his cum from your lips and lick it off your hands, giggling at how messy your man is. “Naughty boy,” you’d mockingly scold him. “You made such a mess!” Your hands and lips would be sticky with whipped cream, chocolate, and his cum–a yummy combination.
“Now you’re gonna have to be punished,” your friend would purr, helping you stand to your feet. Bakugou would stare up at the both of you, helpless and spent.
You’d then coax him up from the couch and lead him over to the king-sized bed where you’d already have the other half of his birthday surprise laid out for him on the black, satin sheets: strawberry-flavored, warming lube and his favorite glass buttplug would sit there, causing Bakugou’s eyes to widen when he realized what was happening.
You’d instruct him to lie down, giggling when he immediately gets onto his hands and knees, his plump ass from years of squats and training looking so appetizing. You and your friend would then climb onto the bed and take some time to warm Bakugou up. You’d graze your nails along his muscles; kiss his neck and lips; fondle his overly-sensitive balls.
Then you’d each squirt some lube onto your fingers before gently prepping and probing Bakugou’s tight, puckered hole, both of your pussies growing wet at the high-pitched whines and whimpers that would leave his pretty, pink lips. “Such a good boy,” you’d coo to him. “You’re doing so good for us, ‘Suki.”
Your friend would reach under to fondle Bakugou’s heavy balls as you slowly, gingerly, inserted the buttplug into Bakugou’s ass, moaning wantonly at his whines and pitiful moans. “God!” he’d shout, his usually raspy, deep voice going up several octaves than usual.
You and your friend who would take turns pumping the buttplug in and out of his tight hole, paying close attention to his body language when you brush against his prostate. You’d relish the way he’d writhe against the bedsheets, fisting them so hard that his knuckles turn stark white. His back would arch, pushing his ass up further, allowing you to plunge the plug deeper.
Then you’d switch, giving yourself a break and a chance for your friend to make him moan like a bitch in heat. You’d then wrap your hand around his cock and pump it, your hand slick with lube and Bakugou’s precum, as you press your lips against his ear. “Happy birthday, baby,” you’d whisper, nibbling at his earlobe.
The second orgasm would be messier than the first. Bakugou would be whining, begging, pleading either one of you for release. “T-Too much!” he’d sob into the mattress. “Please! Please just fuckin’ make me cum!”
Your friend would giggle giddily at the change in his demeanor, still fucking his asshole with the butt plug. “Alright, ‘Suki,” you’d coo to him. “It is your birthday, after all. So cum for us like a good little boy. You don’t wanna disappoint my friend, do you?”
As you’d cup his balls and turn your slow strokes into fast pumps, Bakugou wouldn’t be able to take so much stimulation and would cum all over your hand and the sheets below.
“Cumming!” he’d whine, a string of high-pitched moans and whimpers leaving his pillowy-soft, pink lips formed in an O. His pretty face would be screwed in ecstasy, cheeks red and eyes squeezed tight as his second orgasm hit him like a freight train.
You’d silently encourage your friend to continue to stroke his prostate as you slowed your handjob down, bringing him to the brink of insanity from the overstimulation. “No more!” he’d groan. “Too much! C-Can’t…can’t…!”
And you’d make him cum again, this one just as strong and as messy. Nut would paint the black sheets white, spurt all over your hand, and drip along his balls that would become sticky from it. Finally, you and your friend would stop, allowing the pro to recover. Seeing him so vulnerable, helpless, and spent would have your bodies beginning to be the vulnerable and helpless ones for a change.
Bakugou would have the same idea after you fetched him some water and laid his head in your lap while your friend stroked her fingers down his arms and legs. “That was…fuckin’ amazing,” he’d heave, making you both giggle.
“You did so well for us, baby,” you’d coo into his ear, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so happy you enjoyed your birthday.”
Bakugou would then sit up, his exhaustion gone and his personality flipping in a wink. He’d give you both a dark, devious, lust-filled stare that would have your hearts pounding and pussies wet, because you’d know what would come next. “It ain’t over yet,” he chuckled. “What, you thought tonight was over? After all, I’ve gotta enjoy my birthday gifts, don’t I?”
And then, in the blink of an eye, he’d be forcing you and your friend onto your backs, side by side, staring up into his vermillion eyes and mischievous grin. “So,” he’d huff, “you slutty girls wanna play with me, huh? Question is, who do I take first?”
A nervous smile would curl on your lips and you’d turn to your friend, sharing that same look of anxiousness and excitement. “Guess I’ll just have to take both of you then,” Bakguou would growl. “Teach you both a fuckin’ lesson for playin’ with me.”
And mind you, the butt plug would still be in his ass during all of this.
You’d barely of time to process what was happening before Bakugou is tossing your legs over his shoulders and plunging his tongue deep in your pussy while he stroked and petted your friend’s pussy. Her whines and moans would arouse you even more than Bakugou’s skillful mouth, causing you to gush all over his quick tongue that flicked over your clit. “‘S-Suki, please!” you’d beg. “Slow down!”
But he wouldn’t stop. He’d keep going until he brought the both of you to your first orgasms that you’d share in unison. “Cum for me,” he’d growl into your cunt. “Both of you sluts fuckin’ cum for me!”
And with a gasp followed by a moan of his name, you would. You’d burst all over the sheets and his mouth as your friend would cum all over his calloused fingers. After that first round, he’d switch. You’d then have his fingers toying with your needy little clit while his mouth was on your friend’s pussy, her legs spread wide for him and mouth open on a moan.
“Just look at your girl, babe,” he’d sadistically chuckle, staring down at your friend in her fucking world. “You been teaching her, haven’t you? Your slutiness rubbed off on her, didn’t it?”
His fingers would leave your clit to tweak at your nipple, pinching the hard peak until sparks filled your body. “Y-Yes, daddy,” you’d whine. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to give you a great birthday.”
Bakugou’s eyes would soften then, touched by your confession. “I know a way to thank you,” he’d growl before proceeding to rub your needy little clit to make you cum again as you tweaked your own nipples.
“Fuck, daddy, yes!” you’d practically scream as your friend moaned his name, cumming all over his mouth, lips, and stubbled chin, her hands in his platinum blonde hair.
You’d watch as she cums, noticing her body tensing and legs shaking as Bakugou continued to slurp up her cum, sounding and looking like a starving man. His back muscles would ripple as he spread your friend’s thighs open wider, licking her right from the source as she weakly moaned and whimpered, complaining that she was “so sensitive”. You’d be able to tell he was enjoying this, and that made you enjoy it too.
When he’d finally break away from your friend’s inner thighs, his lips, and chin would be shiny with her and your juices combined. He’d greedily lick his lips and suck his fingers, making your pussy impatiently clench around air despite just cumming. “Let’s say we play some more, hm?” he hums, smiling darkly at you.
You and your friend, exhausted and spent, would look at each other, slightly terrified. Would you even realize what you’d be getting yourselves into? The answer would be unknown, but the idea of that would make you hotter and desperate for whatever your man had in mind.
“What’d you have in mind, birthday boy?” you breathlessly asked, weakly sitting up to drag your nails up and down Bakugou’s thighs. Your friend would sit up too, making a move to touch him too, running her hands down his pectorals.
That question would result in your friend on her stomach with his cock stuffed deep inside of her, her ass bouncing in time with his thrusts. You’d be beside her, Bakugou’s fingers curled inside of your wet pussy, fingerfucking you as he fucked your friend into oblivion. Breathless huffs of “fuck, fuck, fuck” would leave Bakugou’s lips as he drove his cock into your friend, again and again again.
“Two pretty sluts for the price of one?” he’d huff, a crooked smile that drove you insane on his face. “Lucky me. It really must be my fuckin’ birthday.”
He’d then grab a fistful of your friend’s hair and wrench her head back, just enough for him to reach her ear. “How’s it feel to be fuckin’ with a pro, huh, baby?” he’d whisper into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe. Seeing him tease another woman opposite of you would make you clench harder around his fingers.
“S-so good, daddy!” your friend would moan, planting her face into the mattress. “Right there! Don’t stop!” You’d want to tell your man the same thing, but he didn’t seem like he was letting up any time soon. You’d bounce against the mattress in time with his thrusts, your tits bouncing and your mind going blank.
“Such a pretty girl you are,” Bakugou would grunt into your friend’s air. “Such a good girl to make me feel so good with your best friend.” His hand would then caress her ass before giving it a spank, making her whimper as the sharp sound of his hand against her asscheek filled the air.
“She planned this whole thing,” she’d whimper, staring at you with blissed-out tears in her eyes. “She really loves you, Dynamight. You should make her feel good, too.”
Bakugou would shoot you a lustful yet adoring look as he curled his fingers up into your G-spot, making your toes curl and your voice catch in your throat at the sheer pleasure. “Oh, I plan on it. But first, I’m making you cum all over my dick.”
And he would: after a few more merciless, precise thrusts, your friend would be creaming all over Bakugou’s cock the way he’d want her to. When he’d pull out, your friend’s cum would be dripping all over his balls and around his cock. “Clean it,” he’d growl to her to which she’d greedily move to slurp up every ounce of her cum off of his dick and balls. He’d reward her with an open-mouthed kiss.
And then it’d be your turn: you’d be on your back, legs spread wide and pussy on display for him. Before sliding inside, he’d first duck down to pepper your face in kisses and nose nuzzles. “Thank you for tonight,” he’d whisper against your sweaty brow. “You’re the best fuckin’ girlfriend in the fuckin’ world.”
Then, finally, he’d plunge his dick inside of you and begin to rock his hips into you, making you see stars. Beside you, your friend would lie, legs spread and moans bouncing off the walls as Bakugou plays with her pussy too. He wouldn’t let either one of you have a break. He’d continue to make you cum again and again until you were sobbing for him to stop, broken from the pleasure.
As he’d rut his hips into you, he’d torture you with his words as his cock abused your pussy oh-so-good.
“Who owns these fuckin’ pretty pussies?” he’d snarl. “Who’s gonna make you cum for the fourth fuckin’ time tonight?”
When neither one of you are fast enough with your response, he’d wrap a hand around your throat and smack your friend’s pussy. “Say it! Say my fuckin’ name!” he’d bellow, his rasped voice echoing off of his bedroom walls.
“You, Katsuki!” you’d sob as he pummeled into you, gasping around his hand encircling your throat. “You’re gonna make your good little sluts cum! Please, please make us cum, Daddy Dynamight!”
That would make something snap in Bakugou because suddenly, he’d begin pounding into your pussy so quick and so roughly that his thrusts would send your pussy into hyperdrive with how mercilessly he was grazing your G-spot. Your friend would be facing the same treatment as Bakugou would continue to fingerfuck her senseless, his thumb generously rubbing her clit to orgasm.
“Cum for me,” he’d demand. “Both of you be good girls for me and fuckin’ cum for me right now.”
And you would. You and your friend would once again cum in unison as you’d explode all over Bakugou’s fingers and cock. You’d cum so much that you’d cream all over the sheets, making a mess of yourself as you clenched around your boyfriend’s cock. “Fuck, you got so tight,” he’d moan appreciatively. “Gonna make me cum too.”
“Do it, daddy,” you’d beg. “Cum deep inside of me…but don’t forget to leave some for her.” Your friend would be there beside you, on her side and watching with astonishment as Bakugou pummeled into you again and again. You’d be grasping his shoulders for dear life as the bed springs bounced with how rough he was fucking you, still pummeling your G-spot and turning it to mush.
Finally, with a gasp, Bakugou would reach his peak. “Fuck!” he’d shout before he’d clench you to his body, his fingers digging into your hips, as he’d cum deep, deep inside of you.
He’d fill you to the brim with rope after rope of hot cum, giving you the impression that he’d been needing it. You would weakly moan at the warm feeling flooding your pussy before he slowly pulled out of you, making the cum drip down your ass crack.
“Still not done,” he’d grunt, pumping his wet cock in your face. He’d nod at your friend, crooking his finger in a “come hither” motion that seemed to drive you insane.
Though both of you would be exhausted from cumming back to back and having Bakugou put you through the wringer, like two greedy, cum-hungry whores, you’d be sitting on your knees in front of him, hands flat on your thighs and tongues out. Bakugou would pump his semi-hard dick in your faces until he finally had a second mini-orgasm, groaning as spurts of cum were pumped onto your faces and waiting, heated tongues. A delirious giggle would leave your lips as you felt the hot spurts of nut splatter onto your face, tongue, cheeks, and tits.
“Come here,” Bakugou would growl. “Both of you. Gimme those lips.”
He’d lean down to kiss you both, leading to a three-way kiss as his tongue swirled with both of yours. He’d moan appreciatively at the taste of his cum on your mouths, earning soft, breathy moans from you in response. It’d be one of the hottest kisses you’d ever had in your life.
Finally, after recovering from his orgasms, Bakugou would fetch you both some lavender-scented baby wipes which you’d gratefully use on your skin to wipe his cum off of your skin. Then he’d lie back against the pillows, abs, and flaccid cock on display for the both of you. He’d open his arms out, a crooked smile on his face. “What the fuck are you just sittin’ here for?” he’d ask. “Can’t end tonight without a three-way cuddle. Come here, girls.”
Though suddenly feeling shy despite just having a fucking threesome, you’d crawl to your boyfriend and curl up on one side while your friend would take the other. Bakugou would sigh contently as he’d lie sandwiched between you, your tits pushing into his sides. “That was fuckin’ amazing,” he’d laugh. “I’ve never cum that hard in my life!”
You and your friend would giggle in the quiet of your and Bakugou’s master bedroom. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you’d sigh, giddy with happiness at your plan being a success. “I certainly did.”
“Me too,” your friend would reply, suddenly appearing shy as she traced shapes over Bakugou’s chest.
“You know…if you’d ever want to do this again, I could definitely make a date for your next birthday, Dynamight.”
You and Bakugou would share a look, shocked at her suggestion, but also extremely turned on. You’d share a smile before he’d turn to her, gripping her closer by her waist. “Call me Katsuki,” he’d purr to her. “And who said we had to wait till my next birthday?”
“We have about two hours until midnight,” you said, looking at the clock. “Technically, your birthday isn’t done yet, ‘Suki.”
At your words, you’d feel Bakugou’s cock suddenly lurch back to life against your thigh, hardening at the base. He’d smirk at you both, causing a pool of heat to make its way back into your aching pussy.
“Round two, ladies?” he’d ask, taking a handful of each of your asses and squeezing them. “After someone gets this fuckin’ plug outta my ass.”
You and your friend would bust out in laughter, realizing that yes, that butt plug was still deep in Bakugou’s ass. “And after that, we can finally enjoy that birthday cake,” you cooed as you coaxed Bakugou onto his knees, moving to get some body oil to slick up your fingers.
“I’m kinda in the mood for some other birthday cake,” he’d growl before giving your ass a smack, once again making your pussy clench impatiently for more.
Hours later, you three wouldn’t be sleeping until dawn.
A birthday surprise (and threesome) gone right, indeed.
#bnha smut#smutty smut#my works#my fic shit#suki baby#black fanfic writer#bakugou x reader#bakugou x fem!reader#poly smut#18+ one shot#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x black reader
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[ Alright! Here’s a Taishiro piece for you! This was originally going to be for a Fat Gum Bang, but one of the admins was a real jerk, so I decided to quit the bang and post it here instead! This also might be slightly different from my other works, I’m trying to incorporate more detail with settings and surroundings in my writing. Depending on how well this is received, I may write a part II. Either way, I haven’t written for Fat Gum in a while. I hope you’ll enjoy it! ]
[ Working for The Public Modeling Commission wasn’t easy, but you managed. The modeling business wasn’t for everyone, and society always had negative opinions about plus-sized models including famous ones such as Taishiro Toyomitsu, who defied these societal expectations to the point of getting The Public Modeling Commission’s attention and furthermore, getting a proposed collaboration from them. But he’s on the fence about it until you’re sent in to convince him. ]
One had to follow certain rules in certain settings, and the modeling industry was no different. Be respectful, keep eye contact, and follow orders exactly. During your many years working under The Public Modeling Commission, you learned these things.
The sound of multiple voices and the gentle clink of glasses filled the air of the grandiose ballroom. The chandeliers hanging along the length of the ceiling sparkled like prisms and cast rainbow hues that reflected off the walls and some parts of the marble flooring that was colored a pristine white and had gentle strokes of yellow.
Delicate blue flowers were also painted onto its surface, further adding to the sense of elegance that made you feel suffocated. That’s probably why you chose to stand in the corner. You wore a gray tailored suit with a crisp white button-up shirt, the collar of which remained open exposing just enough skin.
A black tie complemented the collar and hung loosely around your neck and the black blazer that hugged your figure added a touch of sophistication that was normally associated with these types of parties. And finally, on your feet were polished oxfords.
You sighed and slumped against the wall as one of the waiters walked around holding a large circular tray with what appeared to be five flute cups filled with a golden liquid that kissed the edge of each glass and had some delicate bubbles floating along the top of it that begged you to drink.
Despite this, you resisted the urge. It was lovely to drink champagne, but you were ordered not to consume any alcoholic beverages. However, you knew that being part of this celebration should make you happy. Should.
After all, it was regarding the newly created plus-size modeling division The Public Modeling Commission was planning to launch. Unlike many models and society in general, you didn’t judge anyone based on their size, nor were you stuck up as some would assume people in your career were.
While it looked good on the surface, modeling became a dead-end job after a while. As strange as that may sound, not to mention the dark secrets behind the modeling industry or at least the dark secrets behind The Public Modeling Commission. However, you had your reasons for continuing to do it.
It’s not like you were a private person, you told anyone anything you felt like saying. In most respects, honesty wasn’t something you feared. Sadly, if your past were to come to light, it would ruin your career and the image of The Public Modeling Commission.
Unlike most models, you didn’t have a pleasant start. You shuttered when you thought about your past although you suspected that most would look up to you if they knew the things you had been through and the success you tasted now.
However, the past was the past, and you were determined to keep it behind closed doors. When you think about it, your job had many positive perks…well, besides fame. It also had its downsides, such as working even when you weren’t supposed to.
“Y/n,” Yokumiru Mera said, approaching you. Yokumiru was the second in command of The Public Modeling Commission and worked closely with Madam President, who oversaw the entire operation. Without her command, the wheel wouldn’t turn.
“Hm?” You hummed in response. Yokumiru was a middle-aged man, his usual messy beige hair was slicked back and the dark bags that were normally present under his eyes were concealed with makeup. He was wearing a formal black shirt with a white collar and tie, along with black dress pants.
“Here,” the man said before handing you a small envelope, sounding tired as ever. You glanced at it briefly before opening it and upon reading what it said, you knitted your eyebrows. “Taishiro Toyomitsu?” you asked, immediately recognizing the name.
He had an agency in Esuha City and was a famous plus-sized model. Yokumiru nodded. “You know who he is, Madam President wants to ensure the collaboration between this agency and his goes smoothly,” he explained.
Taishiro has been making astonishing achievements in his plus-size modeling career and caught the attention of The Public Modeling Commission, that’s what initially started their desire to create a plus-sized modeling division of their own.
While most would find this a noble goal, you knew it was only for business purposes considering The Public Modeling Commission was the largest modeling agency in Japan and had endless connections. Most of which were made from the past collaborations they had agreed to with lesser agencies.
But unlike those past collaborations, Madam President was intensely focused on doing a special collaboration with Taishiro that would skyrocket the introduction of the new plus-sized modeling division. A hand fisted into his hair as he sighed.
“She wants you to gain his favor and give her a report.” It was your turn to sigh. This was typical of Madam President to give you tasks that were meaningless in the long run and sometimes you questioned her methods. But this was also meaningless.
When she pulled the strings, you had to dance if you wanted to stay on her good side, and more importantly, if you wanted to remain employed. You nodded and tucked the envelope away on your person. “Understood,” you replied before looking around the room.
That’s when you spotted him, a rather tall and bulky man standing over the snack table dressed in an orange suit and tie. The few people who were standing nearby were looking at him in awe or possibly disgust, you couldn’t tell.
But you saw a handful of others making subtle gestures at him and more than likely gossiping about how big he was which, in your typical modeling business, gave the right to ridicule. That didn’t sit well with you, but you weren’t someone who dived into drama unless it was necessary.
After looking at Yokumiru, you crossed the room to Taishiro who was holding a small plastic plate while looking disappointed at the finger foods that were arranged just so on fancy clear plates across the table. The food they provided didn’t appeal to you either.
It was tasteless, bland, and didn’t satisfy your appetite and that’s probably why most of the attendants preferred to fill up on alcohol. “Were you expecting something else there?” you commented, grabbing a plate of your own and successfully catching the man’s attention.
“Hm?” Taishiro turned and that’s when you got a better look at the outfit he was wearing. In addition to the sleek suit jacket which yes, was as bright as an orange, you also noticed he was wearing matching trousers and a deep burgundy colored tie with black dress shoes that while like yours, looked more worn.
You smirked, ignoring his stare even as you piled your plate with the provided finger foods. Then you smiled at him. In addition to your outfit, figure, and hairstyle, he also noted that you appeared to be of average height, even though it wasn’t much of an endorsement given his stature; most people were much smaller than him.
As most of the models at this party did, you looked handsome and beautiful. Prim and proper even. He noticed that when you were a little plumper than others, there wasn’t much kindness in their eyes when they looked at you, but your eyes...well they were different.
Taishiro had long since gotten used to the stares and criticism that came with his job and...well, his build. Despite this, he had his reasons for considering the collaboration proposal from The Public Modeling Commission but had yet to fully make up his mind.
He was quite a handsome fella when he modeled in his youth, and he was well acquainted with the modeling business. However, many don't remember him for his younger years, but rather for what he became in his later years.
“Well, I know these fancy-like parties have these lil’ delicacies. They may be appetizin’ for some, but ‘fraid they don’t do much for a big fella like me,” he explained with a smile. In response, you shrugged and ate one of the snacks on your plate.
Despite tasting bland on your tongue, you chose to engage in conversation, just as Madam President instructed. “Well, it’d be dangerous if they served actual food at these kinds of events,” you joked. “You know the ones with...models.”
Although some may not find your joke humorous, it was one of the harsh realities of modeling. Maintaining your appearance, for the most part, was essential otherwise you would lose your career. Taishiro frowned. “Heh, well...” he paused, uncertain what to say.
“That doesn’t apply to you, does it? Don’t get me wrong. Plus-sized models are amazing and you’re doing the right thing by promoting what you do,” you said with a smile. “After all, you’re Taishiro Toyomitsu,” he laughed. “Sure am!” he replied.
“And what’s your name? I’ve seen ya around, on billboards and such,” he grinned as he extended his hand out. “Y/n,” you responded, shaking his hand. As soon as he heard your name, his eyes lit up, which you expected.
After all, you had held sixth place among the top 10 models in Japan for years which was impressive considering the models ahead of you were Enji Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Tsunagu Hakamada, Shinya Kamihara, and Rumi Usagiyama.
Most of them had their own agencies. It was almost funny to think that models were treated as though they were celebrities. While most had their own fanbase, the top 10 models typically received the most love and as such, they needed to work hard to keep their fanbase happy.
It was a challenge sometimes, but you managed. After all, when you had so many fans who loved your beautiful face, it was best not to disappoint. As far as the ranking board was concerned, you knew that Taishiro fell within the 50 most popular models. In retrospect, that was an incredible accomplishment for a plus-sized model.
“Well fancy yourself a model!” he declared, putting his plate down before nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been with The Public Modeling Commission for a while, right? Maybe ya can teach me a thing or two,” he joked and you faked a smile, but it seemed genuine to most, and you knew it would fool him as well.
“Yeah, guess you could say that,” you replied, shrugging. “And yes, I could teach you a thing or two. First things first,” you pointed lazily at the individuals who continued to stare at Taishiro as if he were some sort of spectacle. “See those stares?” you asked, watching as he turned his head ever so slightly to see who you were referring to.
You threw your plate of food into the nearby trashcan while he was distracted and after a moment of hesitation, he replied, “Yeah.” Your smile widened. “Fantastic!” You exclaimed. “Ignore them,” you held two fingers up before he could respond.
“Second,” You took the plate of food he had set on the table and carelessly dropped it on the floor. He looked utterly shocked by your actions, but before he could address it you motioned for him to follow you. “It’s better to gorge yourself on actual food.” He looked at the food now splattered across the floor.
Since it was a little hard to lean over when you were a big fella, he followed you curious to see where you were leading him. “I’m guessing you’re familiar with the restaurants around here, yeah?” He chuckled at your question.
“Sure, I am!” He replied with a happy grin. “Great!” You said as you walked past the entrance of the building and out into the cool night air. No matter what time it was, the city was always busy, but at night, it was more captivating.
Neon lights illuminated the streets and reflected a rainbow of hues off the windows of the numerous buildings that surrounded the area, creating that bustling energy that cities are known for. In addition, the paper lanterns that hung from the food stands nestled between the buildings created a warm, welcoming aura.
They also added that savory fragrance that lingered in the air and made your mouth water. Despite that, a multitude of people lined the sidewalk, and each seemed woven together as they passed one another. Others sat on the available benches that were scattered around or stood at one of the many bus stops the city offered.
“Mm...” You seemed drawn to the couples that walked hand in hand or were sitting down lovingly gazing at each other. You never thought much about romance, but what else could you expect when you were adored by...well everyone?
It was somewhat disappointing to think that they only loved you for your career as opposed to the real you. Whoever that was. Even so, as of right now, you aren’t interested in anyone. You glanced up at Taishiro who, too, seemed awestruck by how beautiful the city looked.
Nope...weren’t interested in anyone. “So,” you said, resuming walking. “What restaurant do you want to go to?” He hesitated before following you. “Whatever suits your fancy! Trust me, this big ol’ gut doesn’t care as long as the food is hot and fresh!” he said patting his stomach with a hearty laugh.
“Mm, is that so?” You asked, glancing back at him. “Sure is. One thing I’ve learned is not to be picky when it comes to havin’ a good meal,” he shared. “Yeah, I agree,” you replied, your stomach grumbling at the thought of some steamy hot food piled high on a plate.
You looked ahead, spotting a large red building with a flashing yellow sign situated above it and a long line that expanded down the sidewalk. “Since we’re on the same page, how about we go there?” you suggested pointing at the restaurant.
“Seems a bit crowded,” he replied after taking into account the long line of people waiting outside. You smirked, “I know, but I’m sure I could get us a private room no problem,” you winked at the bigger man, who looked at you in confusion.
Instead of addressing it, when the two of you approached the building, you walked to the front door and he remained standing on the sidewalk. When the line of people spotted you, screams of joy echoed and he heard a few people call out your name. “Hm,” it wasn’t that hard for him to put two and two together.
“Heyo!” You greeted them with a pleasing smile and a playful wink, making them scream out again. He laughed softly. In general, he didn’t have much of a fan base because few people liked plus-sized models, but he treasured the fans he did have because fame wasn’t everything.
The only thing he wanted was to spread positivity and self-love. Glam and fashion magazines have always told everyone that skinny was the only way to be, that somehow a small stomach and a flawless face equaled true beauty. It didn’t.
He enjoyed inspiring others to see their inner beauty and appreciate how they looked on the outside. However, he was happy to see that you had a lot of fans. Guess you earned them. The hostess appeared more taken by you than the rest of the crowd and stared at you with such love and awe he was almost jealous.
“Mind if we get a private room to eat in, sweetheart? Yeah, I can autograph that for you,” chuckling, you took her clipboard and scribbled your name across it. She allowed you to enter after a selfie request but stumbled back when Taishiro walked over. Unlike you, he didn't get a warm welcome per se.
Suddenly, the crowd that had been shrieking for you stopped and murmurs and concerns filled the air. He couldn’t help but recall that most of the discrimination he faced was due to his size and shape. But people just have to deal with it.
When you realized he hadn’t followed you inside, you paused and turned to see him standing in front of the hostess. She wore a defensive posture, and you could only assume she was giving him a nasty look. “Hey,” you said, catching her attention.
“He’s with me,” the hostess looked at you in disbelief before looking back at Taishiro. Then with a sigh, she motioned him inside. You could only imagine what was going through her mind. Of course, that wasn’t important.
You turned and resumed walking inside the restaurant. It wasn’t that difficult for him to notice that you turned several heads when you walked by. The waitresses gave you that familiar loving gaze and some squealed with delight when they saw you.
Others who were eating suddenly paused and gazed at you with amazement. He wondered if you realized what you were doing or if you had just gotten so used to being treated this way that you ignored their reactions. Either way, he hoped you were happy and if you weren’t, heck he’d try his best to make you.
The pristine wooden door leading into the private room opened with a faint whisper and you noticed it was adorned with a beautiful painting of cherry blossoms and delicate pinks and greens that looked like they were swaying when the door moved.
You looked at Taishiro before stepping inside and immediately noted the elegantly placed table that dominated the room. It appeared to be constructed from ash wood, giving it a modern and sophisticated appearance that aligned with the feeling of the restaurant.
Its edges were carefully constructed into a gentle curve, and, like the door, cherry blossoms adorned its perimeter, further enhancing its artistic appeal. Its polished and prim surface had a pitcher of ice water and two large glasses on it and reflected the soft golden glow from the paper lanterns hung across the room.
To create an inviting atmosphere, the table was set low to the ground on tatami mats painted a greenish hue, encouraging you and Taishiro to sit on one of the four cushions placed along the curves of the table. Your concentration was broken when Taishiro laughed.
“Well, guess that’s a preview of the lovin’ and admirin’ ya get daily, huh?” You wanted to shrug and dismiss his words. Instead, you walked over and took a seat and he followed, taking the one across from you. Although he struggled a bit getting onto his knees and sitting cross-legged which you partly expected.
You tried to resist smirking and leaned one elbow on the table and cradled your hand against your cheek. “Yeah, more or less, sorry if I threw you for a loop,” you said with a forced laugh. “Heh, that’s alright!” he declared.
“No harm done, and I enjoy seein’ ya work your magic,” your smile filled him with joy, but there was something odd about it. He tended not to appreciate others smiling unless they meant it. “Right, well,” you picked up the menu and glanced over the choices while tapping your chin.
You lacked self-control when it came to food. Considering your very strict exercise regimen, eating whatever you desired didn’t adversely affect your modeling career. When you glanced up, you noted that Taishiro looked tall even when he was seated, and although he was a big and round individual, he was nice to look at.
His skin was clear and creamy, his blond hair fell in gentle waves, and his eyes were the same color as his hair. His appearance was truly unique, and you admired it. Several years ago, he made his plus-sized modeling debut, and you remember everyone laughing and criticizing him.
Of course, there were a few kind hearts out there, yourself included, that thanked him for his work and how he defied plus-sized modeling limitations. Not many knew this, but he was one of your motivations for your modeling career.
It’s funny how life works sometimes. Here you were sitting with one of the most famous plus-sized models in Japan, the same plus-sized model you had admired for years. Yet, it was almost as though it were under false pretenses given the fact you were only following orders.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t wise to go against Madam President since the newest division of her modeling franchise depended on Taishiro’s collaboration, and you were sent in as her rat to sweeten the deal. You didn’t realize how lost in thought you were until you heard your name.
“Y/n?” You snapped out of your daze. “Huh?” you replied, only to hear him laugh in return. “Is anythin’ wrong? Heh, I can understand why ya wanna stare, heck a lot of people stare at me. But your head seems to be in the clouds, is there somethin’ on your mind?” You shook your head.
“No...nothing,” you replied, glancing to the side. Despite knowing you were lying, he shrugged. “Alrighty then...” he said, not wanting to provoke or push you into telling him what was wrong. It had to come out sooner or later. “So,” he adjusted the menu in his hands.
“What were ya thinkin’ of gettin’? Everythin’ sounds pretty appetizin’, doesn't it?” You tapped your lips several times, scanning the menu. “Hm...takoyaki, yakitori, and tempura sound delicious. We could also order sushi and onigiri,” you suggested, making him laugh in response.
As you lowered your menu, you raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I’m sorry,” he said, letting his laughter die down. “I didn’t mean to disrespect ya in any way. I just wasn’t expectin’ a model as fine as yourself to be prepared to eat that much,” he explained.
“I just admire someone with an appetite like mine,” he added. “Heh,” you tried to smile but knew what he was thinking. He thought you were like the rest of the braindead models, who starved themselves or ate nothing but healthy food, but that’s not how you lived.
You reminded yourself again that as long as you stuck to your exercise routine, the one Madam President made for you, eating what you pleased wouldn’t jeopardize your career. “Is that correct?” You asked respectfully, but even so, tension dripped from you like a leaky faucet.
He opened his mouth, sensing the tension, only to have the waitress interrupt him. After placing your order, you flashed her a smile and tried to ignore the look of disbelief on her face. Then Taishiro ordered his food, and the two of you were left alone again.
After pouring yourself a glass of water and taking a sip, you glanced at him and leaned back in your seat. “So, what made you want to get into modeling? If memory serves, you started modeling after you graduated High School and your popularity grew,” you said, wanting to start a conversation.
Taishiro tensed up a bit and a hint of sadness appeared in his eyes. “Yeah, I suppose that’s right,” he said, quickly recalling his younger years. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed modelin’ back then, and still do now!” he exclaimed with a determined smirk.
But it soon faded, and he fixed his eyes on the table. “After a while though, fame, and fortune don’t mean much if people only come to ya ‘cause you’re pleasin’ to the eye,” he explained, and you understood what he meant.
It seemed that beauty played the most crucial role in determining how people treated you and what kind of looks you got in society. “I wanted to be somethin’ more, but along the way, I found another passion,” he said, patting his stomach.
“After that, I got to thinkin’ that despite my growin’ size I could still be a role model that others look up to,” you nodded. “Yeah…I remember your early days as a model. You inspired me to follow the profession. Even after people tried to bury your name and career,” you smirked when he parted his lips in shock.
“Heh, well I guess I should be thankin’ ya for lookin’ up to me so kindly. But with natural beauty like yours, I’d think you’d find your way into this career without lookin’ up to me,” he said, and you shook your head, a smile still painting your features.
“I like looking up to you. The fact that you redefined the modeling business is amazing,” might as well try buttering him up. “All your dedication and work are paying off. The Public Modeling Commission was determined to open a plus-sized division after seeing your success.” You chuckled briefly.
“I’m sure the collaboration between your and our agencies will finally give plus-sized models the respect they deserve and-” you paused. You could dig for more information discreetly now that you’ve mentioned The Public Modeling Commission and the collaboration. You could also make sure Taishiro was 100% on board.
You felt your stomach twist in disgust, almost wishing he knew what you were doing. If he did, the kind and admiring eyes he used to look at you would no longer be there. “Oh sorry,” you said, pressing your hands against your chest.
“You haven’t fully decided if you will go through with the collaboration. Shouldn’t have mentioned it, I-” He interrupted you, falling hook, line, and sinker for your setup. “It’s alright,” he said with a chuckle allowing his eyes to linger on you for a long moment then gazed at your hand which remained resting on the table.
“Truth be told, I was on the fence about it…but…” You tensed up when he placed his hand over yours. Yes, you did not judge others by their, ahem…proportions. But it was hard to ignore how large his hand was. While it swallowed your hand whole, you also noticed how warm and gentle his touch was.
His thumb stroked the side of your hand like one would pet a bird or a kitten. “Ya convinced me with your kindness,” you knitted your eyebrows. “Sorry?” you replied, but he smiled. “Your kindness, most wouldn’t approach me like ya did,” he chuckled, “and that honesty of yours is also somethin’ to be admired.”
Your heart sank at his words, if only he knew how dishonest you were being. “And if I accept this collaboration, well it’d be a downright honor to work side by side with ya if I’d be so privileged,” you looked at him with disbelief. It faded after a few moments, and you glanced away. “Oh, uh...” What should you even say to that?
“Thanks?” Yeah, thanking him was better than nothing. “Heh, heh. The pleasure is mine,” he replied with a smile, and you gave a forced one in return. It was sad to think that such a smile fooled thousands of people every day.
Taishiro knitted his eyebrows almost as if he sensed something was wrong and opened his mouth, but at that moment the waitress returned, placing the food on the table and you sighed in relief. Grabbing a yakitori, you greedily tore off a chunk like an animal tearing into a fresh kill.
While he looked on in amusement, you hummed in approval and licked your lips. “Heh, guessin’ it’s good eatin’, don’t mind if I do,” he said, reaching over to take a yakitori. A minute later, you both had your plates piled high and exchanged a few words as you ate your fill.
“Ah, that food was pretty tasty!” he said with a chuckle, patting his stomach. You nodded, leaning back against your seat when the waitress came with the bill. “Hm?” Taishiro sat up and was about to reach across the table to look at it, but you snatched it away.
You placed it on your lap before pulling out your credit card. “Pardon,” he said as you tucked your card into the check presenter’s plastic sleeve. “Yes?” you replied, looking at him. “Are ya intendin’ to pay for this meal?” he asked, and his voice reflected a slight suspicion and uncertainty.
“Is that a problem?” you replied with a smirk. “Well now, I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I expected ya to pay,” he said, but you shrugged. “I’m paying,” you replied, your tone firm and your voice deep to make sure he knew there was no room for argument.
As you handed the check presenter to the waitress, you looked at him and said, “Consider it a welcoming present and a thank you for collaborating with The Public Modeling Commission.” You gave him yet another sweet but fake smile.
He frowned when he saw it but decided not to address it now. “Well, thank ya kindly but next time, the meals on me,” he stated. You were caught off guard by his words. “Next time?” You muttered under your breath but knew not to overthink it.
Most likely, he was just being polite. Before walking out of the restaurant with him, you ensured everything was correct and put your credit card away. It was less cluttered on the sidewalk, but people still walked along it.
More than likely they were heading home after a long day’s work. You noticed the signs you passed by earlier looked brighter than before. This was especially evident considering the sky was now painted black and only a few stars were visible.
Taishiro noticed a genuine smile on your face as you looked up at the sky, and he wanted to tell you to only smile when you mean it. At the same time, he knew that you must have had your reasons for that fake smile. “Heh,” he chuckled, catching your attention.
“What?” you asked, and he shook his head, his eyes lingering on you. “Nothing, I just…” He paused and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his already messy blond hair around. “I wanted to apologize for my earlier comment again and-” you waved his words off.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you said as you walked down the sidewalk. “That’s the reaction most models who actually eat and are friendly get. We break the illusion society holds over us. That we’re perfect little porcelain dolls,” you explained before looking up at the sky again.
“Some of us are lucky enough to be broken porcelain dolls,” you joked, a bit of a dark joke at that but still you chuckled. As Taishiro followed you, he apologized to the few people he ran into and those who stepped around to avoid him.
“Is that right?” He replied before holding back his breath. “Well,” he reached over, laying his hand on your shoulder and making you pause. “Hm?” You turned, looking at him with curiosity and something about that expression made his heart leap.
“Uh,” for a moment he forgot what he wanted to say. “Oh!” He laughed. “As far as porcelain dolls go. I gotta say if I were the collector type, I’d buy a dozen of ya ‘cause I can’t get enough of your sweet self!” His comment made you snicker.
“Right,” you replied dryly and resumed walking, and he followed right behind you. “So, the party should be just about over by now,” you informed him. “Oh?” He smiled. He was happy he got to spend time with you instead of remaining at the party so there was no sadness in knowing it was over.
“Yeah,” you replied, trying not to let silence fill the space between the two of you. “So do you live far from here?” You asked. “Heh, I live back in good ol’ Esuha City,” you nodded. “Near your agency I assume. Good thinking,” you commented, “must be nice.”
“Well, city life ain’t for most. Truth be told, I’d be just as content livin’ in one of the rural areas. Of course, then I’d miss out on all the great food the city has to offer,” he said laughing. You smirked, “Yeah…the city has some excellent food,” enough to satisfy you anyway.
Glancing ahead, you could see the building where the party was being held. There were also a few people walking out and several cars pulling out onto the street. “So did you drive here?” you asked, ignoring the chill of the air against your cheeks, which were slowly turning red.
“Nah, I don’t do much drivin’. Heh, but I have a ride. Don’t ya be worryin’ about lil’ ol’ me now,” he teased, gently nudging you with his elbow. “Heh,” you chuckled and felt relieved when you were finally in front of the semi-empty building.
While your back was turned to it, you felt eyes on you, and you assumed said eyes belonged to Madam President. Somehow, she always kept tabs on you, and if not her, then someone close to her did. To put it simply, you were never actually alone.
Every move you made had to be calculated perfectly, but sometimes you didn’t care about the consequences of your actions, maybe that made you rebellious. You weren’t sure. However, most would advise against angering Madam President.
Despite this, you and your colleague made a game out of it. Come to think of it, it’s strange that Madam President didn't send him to do this job. Who knows, maybe she thought Taishiro would be more drawn to you? Regardless, you knew you would find out later.
“So, I guess this is goodnight. That dinner was delicious, we must do it again sometime,” you said, putting on your most optimistic smile. His face twisted with uncertainty and before you could react, he grabbed your hands and cradled them.
First, he put his hand over yours during dinner, and now this. “I’d like that, if ya don’t mind bein’ seen with a big fella like me again. Havin’ dinner or just spendin’ time with ya again would be a pleasure,” he said, smiling at you and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.
“Hmm,” Madam President’s eyes remained fixed on you and Taishiro. “What on Earth is going on…” she muttered, her words dripping with suspicion. “I’m sure everything is fine…” Yokumiru said, ignoring her glare. “I agree!” Keigo announced as he entered the room.
His feathery ash hair was slicked back, highlighting his yellow eyes adorned with triangular tattoos on the top corners and tear ducts. He wore a black and red suit that almost appeared to have some sort of shimmer to it, and he had a faint amount of stubble on his chin.
He smirked as he walked over and plopped onto the couch. “Takami…” Madam President growled but did not remove her eyes from you nor Taishiro. “Aw, come on there Madam President. I know I left my post early, but hey…it looks like you didn’t need hawk eyes on Y/n after all.”
Like you, Keigo often carried out Madam President’s orders which consisted mostly of keeping tabs on the others she sent out. Like a supervisor, but undetected. “I mean sure, I could have done the job just as well,” he stated, placing his hands behind his head.
He lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. “But Y/n has that certain genuine charm people seem to like, and besides Toyomitsu seemed pretty smitten with them, so didn’t think I needed to observe any longer,” he explained.
He could sense tension in the air. More than likely Madam President was angered because he technically disobeyed her order. However, no harm was done, and he wasn’t scared of what she might do. She had no one better than him, apart from you, that is.
“I hope to see ya again real soon, alright?” Taishiro squeezed your hands gently before releasing them, turning, and walking away. As you watched him disappear, you felt your hands tingle and a strange feeling of warmth wash over you.
But your moment was interrupted when you heard someone clear their throat. You sighed and turned to face her after shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “Madam President,” you replied nonchalantly. She crossed her arms. “Report,” she stated, and you sighed again.
“Right, straight to that, huh?” You replied, placing one hand on your hip. “He agreed to collaborate with our agency. There’s no changing his mind,” you said. “Ensure it remains that way,” she ordered before turning back toward the building and walking away.
“Suuuuuure,” you replied half-heartedly before placing your hand on your chest, feeling the unusual speedy pace of your heart. The last time you received physical affection and talked to someone who seemed genuinely interested in you instead of your career was a long time ago.
But Taishiro...the way he looked and spoke to you. Well, it was different than what you were used to. He was different than the others Madam President assigned you to butter up. “Mm…” you pressed a hand to your forehead.
“I must be going crazy. It’s been a long day,” you concluded, shrugging before you started toward the car that The Public Modeling Commission provided. When you approached, Untenmaru Kurumada stepped out.
He was an older man with short black hair styled up in the front and a white mustache with hints of black. On the length of his chin, white facial hair was also present. A black dress shirt and white tie complemented his dark-colored jacket that hugged his chest and waist.
Additionally, he always wore white driving gloves. Since Enji, the one he had an exclusive contract with, did not attend tonight’s event, he agreed to drive the models present because he made a living catering to models specifically.
“Hello Y/n!” he shouted enthusiastically as he opened the door. “Where are you headed!?” he asked, his voice high and loud. You replied, “I’ll head home, thank you,” and he nodded before closing the door, climbing into the driver’s seat, and starting the engine.
As the car pulled out onto the street, you looked at the black sky still adorned with those sparkling diamonds known as the stars. Then you looked down at your hands which lay motionless in your lap. You remembered Taishiro’s secure grip on them and yet again how he looked at you.
It was unlike the looks you got daily, there was just something about it that made you feel…strange. “Hm…” you knit your eyebrows. Untenmaru noticed the expression you were making when he gazed at the rearview mirror and frowned.
Despite knowing it wasn’t any of his business, he blurted out “Something wrong!?” His many years as a chauffeur gave him a great deal of insight into the challenges associated with the modeling industry, and the struggles models of your generation face.
He had known you for some time, and usually, you had a smile on your face. However, tonight it seemed someone or something had stolen it from you. Looking at him, you raised your eyebrows. Damn…shouldn't have given yourself away.
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Nothing. I’m just…I mean it’s just…” Drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, you tried to think. “I’m just worried about how well the collaboration with Toyomitsu will go. After all, this new division means a lot to The Public Modeling Commission,” you explained only to hear him huff in response.
“Is that all you kids think about!? There’s more to life than success! Even Mr. Todoroki knows that!” You hummed in response, and although he had a point, you knew he couldn’t tell that there was an enormous amount of guilt weighing your heart down.
When you think about it, Madam President would likely assign you or Keigo to show Taishiro the ropes before the big collaboration debut. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your pants. You could only imagine how chaotic that would be.
In addition, despite your best efforts to tell yourself this was only business, Taishiro Toyomitsu, made your stomach churn with butterflies which was an unusual and furthermore, unwanted reaction that you had to get under control before your next meeting with him.
#fat gum x reader#taishiro x you#taishiro x reader#fatgum x y/n#fatgum x reader#fatgum x you#bnha x self insert#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n#bnha x you#bnha x male reader#bnha x fem!reader#faulty writes: taishiro toyomitsu: 23#faulty writes: taishiro toyomitsu: one shot: 23
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