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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

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Pretend It's Someone That Came for You (18+)

pairing: coworker!wonwoo x fem!touch-starved!reader

genre: coworker au, office au, strangers to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), fluffy fluffy fluff fluff

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

warnings: unprotected sex (do NOT pls my babes), soft dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, v loving sex, praise (f. receiving), confession of love, riding, fingering (f. receiving), pussy rubbing tihi, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, baby, darling, etc), VERY angsty beginning, yn is truly v sad so DO NOT READ THIS if u fear it will make u sad!!, they say i love u unrealistically fast but i had to do it, yn uses sex to feel less lonely/ends up feeling more lonely, relatable yn frs, slightly dramatized symptoms of touch-starvation (?), kinda boring plot but idc bc its CUTE AF

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "finally!!" (she was fed tf up), "stanley is the most stanley man ever. i hate him but i love him.", (more r coming she actually didnt have time 2 read this and i didnt want to wait with posting.)

wordcount: 10.0k

a/n: this story was supposed 2 have more angst, like it was supposed to have this whole misunderstanding, but it just didnt feel right, it made me sad, so instead this is a short n sweet love story xx

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

You weren’t always like this. You remember being a sociable, joyful child; half-broken bikes and teddy bears and booster seats. You remember pigtails and popsicle sticks and Power Rangers, and what came after that? Being a moody teenager, became being a moody adult. High school became college, and college became an office job that served to keep you alive, even if it didn’t feel like being alive. College wasn’t that bad, you remember, so at what point had you mistaken isolation for privilege? And at what point had you gone too far into that tunnel-hole to turn back?

You must’ve been cursed, you think, putting on your outfit for work in the deadly still apartment. Dust dares not move, dares not give you hope that you are not alone.

You must’ve been cursed, you think, coming into work to a string of half-hearted, mumbled greetings. Your office is off-white and black and gray and everyone inhabiting it is also off-white and black and gray, and their skin is faintly oily and sickly and their faces are dragging down as if the very earth was reclaiming them and you think that you fit in here better than anywhere else.

You must’ve been cursed, you think, when you spend your day writing emails and organizing documents of information into different formats to send to huge corporations. Sometimes you fantasize about the other end of the transaction. Maybe their office is warm and brown with an accent of blue, and maybe people put hands on each other's shoulders, when they tell one another they’ve done a good job.

Yes, there’s no other explanation, you think, and can’t even muster the energy to feel bad when you blame some old hag from your hometown. You think she must’ve conjured up the worst ingredients, something cartoonishly evil, and a spell befell you, sunk into the crevices of your skin and dug into your pores.

You lie on your couch with a glass of wine and the television going, but you’re not really listening. You don’t think anyone has touched you in six months. You’re not even sure you’re real anymore. You swear, you could live with no one hearing you out, because you’re not sure you’d have anything worthwhile to say, but you just needed someone to touch you. To reach out a hand and confirm, you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips, and I’m squeezing your shoulder, and I see you, and I feel you right here.

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

Lying physically very still, you still feel like you’re scrambling, fighting the clutch of the curse, and tugging on metal chains. Maybe that’s where all your energy goes.

What do normal people do when they feel this bad?

Sometimes you leave open the window, and when the wind tugs at your door, you pretend it’s someone that came for you.

Tug, tug, tug. The door rattles against its hinges when the fatally empty sky brings to you, in outstretched palms, the wind interlaced with glimmers of hope.

There’s never anyone at the door. _____________________________

This particular day starts like any other. You wake to your alarm and you put on clothes and you get ready and brush your teeth. Then you trample down to the bus stop. The sky is smothered by a duvet of heavy rain clouds. The rain hasn't come yet, but you know it will. Your fingers become stiff and hard, where they adhere to the polyester strap of your bag, massaging it. The bag is cold and dead.

The bus ride is by far the greatest part of your day. It’s quiet - early enough that you’re only accompanied by a few other souls. You rest your head on the window, vibrating gently against the curve of your forehead, and watch the people in the street.

The bus hums a gentle tune and snakes down the streets. Then you’re there, and whatever solace that it offers you under artificial light and mediocre, felted seats is gone.

Your office building is maybe the most depressing place on earth. It’s no glamorous feat of architecture. It is but a large, orange-y, puke-y, brick square, and the building is shared between yours and the Forester company. You don’t talk to the Foresters, but you know they eat cream cheese bagels on their breaks and throw birthday parties and once you saw the branch manager squeezing a salesman’s shoulder and telling him he had done a good job. His fingers squeezed down and the movement of the fabric revealed a shoulder pad built into the suit. You remember thinking it was a shame that it blocked the real touch.

Today, you walk up the stairs with heavy steps and you idle into the office building, eyes cast down to the dirty, gray carpet. You begin the long trek into the back of the building where your desk is located.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.

“Morning.”

“M-”

Wait a minute.

Your greeting falls short. You don’t recognize that voice. Stopping in your tracks, your shoes scratch on the rough carpet, and lift your head to see him.

The first thing you notice is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. He looks like he jumped out of an underwear commercial; he’s all strong jawline, sharp eyes, round glasses on his pretty nose, neatly trimmed, short dark hair stretching down the planes of his face. He’s wearing a button up (usually you wouldn’t even register the clothing your coworkers adorned, but something about how he wore it was noteworthy), a tie draping over the dress shirt, and formal slacks hugging his thighs.

He smiles at you sheepishly, hands nervously smoothing down his thighs.

“I’m Wonwoo” he says curtly, nodding to you. “Just transferred from the Wallingset branch.”

You nod. “Right. Wallingset,” you nod more. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n.”

Something about your name on his lips makes your heart flutter. It’s pathetic, you know, but his peregrine being in his office chair, spilling your name from his pink lips makes you feel a little more real. You look at him and then you nod again-again, kicking your legs into gear again and walking the last stretch to your desk.

You can see the back of his head from your orange-wood desk. Papers and sticky notes are scattered among the desktop. The monitor watches you accusingly, all big and square and black, waiting for you to open it up and begin working. Your eyes linger on him for a moment. Then you work.

A few hours pass on emails and translating information from a company into a comprehensive sheet. However, today you’re having a hard time focusing on work.

This is not new.

Sometimes you briefly talk to a man at the grocery store, and your mind will wander to him for next week, wondering if he’s thinking about you too, imagining yourself cuddling with him, watching movies, imagining him telling you it’ll all be okay. Sometimes you briefly talk to a man on the street, sometimes it’s even a date, but whatever the case you obsess and you dream and you always end up alone.

Today the victim of your depraved mind is Wonwoo. The guilt is easy to push away. You feel sorry for yourself. You think you deserve this. You think you can’t survive without this. And so you imagine him hugging you, stroking your hair, and you imagine him falling in love with you, and you imagine not being alone. Your fingers rest on your keyboard. It’s old and mechanical. You think it’s from a yard sale, probably an old woman whose children moved away. It’s plastic, and it curves inwards underneath the pads of your fingertips. The keys are cold and dead.

You fully zone out, eyes blearing into the back of his head, but you don’t really see it, your mind has traveled elsewhere. You guiltily imagine his hand between your legs, on your chest, straddling him, kissing him. And it’s not rough, it’s loving, because in this world he loves you, and he’d do anything for you, and you don’t have to be alone again.

You don’t love Wonwoo. It’s not some magical love at first sight, it’s not a romance book, it’s real life. You’re lonely. You need this to survive.

“Hey, Y/n?”

You snap your head up. Maybe you were still daydreaming. But you recognized the voice well and true, and it was Wonwoo, leaned over your desk, hands in his pockets.

“Oh, uhm, hey-” your voice is shaky and you quickly rush to compose yourself, hands moving frantically and uselessly to glide papers over one another and, then, realizing that there was no point to your movements, stilling and looking up at him, cheeks flushed. “Hey.”

Wonwoo smiles gently. “Uh, you know, I was wondering,” he looks around the office, as if surveying the area. “If you knew where to get a good lunch? I don’t know this area at all, so..”

He trails off, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Now that he’s standing before you, it’s much harder to ignore the guilt you feel. You wanna gnaw at your nails until they’re nubs, you want to crawl under your desk and cover your eyes. Does he see how red your cheeks are?

“Uhm- well- I don’t- I eat a packed lunch, so I’m-”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, no expert,” you giggle awkwardly and watch his gentle smile drop into pursed lips. “But! Uh- I hear the- the hot dog stand, uh, just a little down the street is good!”

“Really? Maybe I should try it,” he contemplates, smile returning to his lips. “Would you mind showing me this mysterious hot dog stand?”

“Uh-”

Just seconds before you were thinking of his fingers in your pussy, and his hands caressing you, and him making you feel loved. He’s standing before you and he’s a totally normal guy, and you feel like shit. You feel like shit for using this fake image of him to comfort yourself. You can’t be around him, can’t convince yourself that maybe this’ll turn into something more - not when you always end up alone. Your brows furrow in determination.

“Actually, I have to, uh, get this done, so-” you gesture vaguely to your monitor.

“Right! Yeah,” Wonwoo seems embarrassed, biting his lips and nodding. “It’s, uh, just down the street?”

“Yeah, to the right when you walk out the building.”

“For sure. Thanks,” he doesn’t even look at you then, just waves you off half-heartedly and starts trailing down the office. His shoulders are incredibly broad and his belt wraps tightly around his small waist.

You feel like shit. _____________________________

Why is no one else cursed?

You look out of the window, lying on your bed after work. Everything is very still and unmoving - your whole apartment feels like it’s knotted in strings, tightened until everything is snapped into place, and if you move the wrong muscles, the invisible hands will let go and everything will fly and hurdle through your home, and you can almost hear the sound, like the hard, empty sound of throwing a bowling ball and getting a strike.

No one else is cursed. People crowd the streets with friends, family, partners, and they’re talking and laughing. You rest your head in the windowsill, a lone spectator in the window. The glass cuts you off from the streets.

The afternoon after daydreaming the way you did about Wonwoo is always hard. Your apartment seems intent on suffocating you. Your daydreams serve as a reminder that you’re alone, that you truly have no one, and the act itself is so humiliating, you sulk into a glass of red wine and sometimes you cry. What do normal people do when they feel this bad, you wonder again, sobbing in your bed and spilling wine on your nightie.

Nighttime falls early while you’re crying. You weep on and off, hug your knees, eat a microwave dinner and watch TV, light casting onto your pathetic form on the couch.

And in your most vulnerable state is when you most easily slip into your old habits.

You press an old contact in your phone, one you’d tried to steer away from recently. You wipe mascara from your reddened cheeks, you wear pretty lingerie, and you lie, completely empty, void of any warmth, on your bed, awaiting.

It’s the first time he touches you in months. When his hand finds your shoulder, you shudder terribly. Sorry, he says, and he seems taken aback. Just ignore it, you plead, just ignore it. He does so, unsurely, and every time his hand grazes over your body you shudder and sob and every time he hesitates, asking if you’re okay, you cry at him to continue.

It feels good while it’s happening. Skin beneath your fingertips, hands on you, a face close to yours. You and him are the only thing moving in the apartment, synergizing on your bed, conjoining and writhing, and for just a moment, you don’t feel so alone.

When you’re done the anonymous man stands back up, sliding on his pants in the late hour. He says it was great and you hum. But then he looks around, hesitating on every old piece of furniture, on every photo on the walls, and lastly on you.

“What?” you ask, lying naked in your bed. He grimaces at you, as if signaling that he can’t quite figure it out himself.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly, hands on his newly-clothed hips and surveying the corners of the room, where shadows pool. “It feels haunted in here.”

He leaves.

When the warmth is gone, the bile rises in your throat. Old habits die hard, you think, and you feel totally empty. You couldn’t go on like this. It was nights like these you began to feel like a martyr - sacrificing yourself for a brief escape. Because when the door is closed with a click and you’re alone again, you feel yourself trembling and your heart is glowing red in the empty astral plane. Brief, easy forms of pleasure are often the most harmful.

It feels haunted in here. You remember his words, and before you finally fall asleep, you wonder one thing. You wonder if you’re already dead. _____________________________

The next day is a pain to overcome. You’re slightly hungover, slightly sore, and very uncomfortable. But you comply with your routine, and you enjoy the bus ride, and when you get to the office everyone greets you.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” Wonwoo says. You look up from the carpet carefully, flashing him an apologetic smile. You hope he can read its intention: Sorry about being weird yesterday. You think he got it.

“Morning, Wonwoo.”

And then you’re landing yourself at your own desk and beginning work once more. It’s boring, but today you ward off the daydreams and you focus, and you’re getting an exceptional amount done.

The clock on the wall (off-white, but yellowing near the top) reads 12:28 when your boss, Stan, approaches your table. He’s half bald, and his suit is much too loose, and he has a ladder of wrinkles climbing his larger-than-life forehead.

“Hey, N/n!” he calls, so loud that a couple of heads turn at the commotion. You’ve asked him several times not to call you that.

“Stanley,” you breathe, tapping a stack of papers on your desk to neaten the pile. You wonder if you were in trouble, but if his smile is anything to go by, you’d guess not.

“My favorite woman in accounting!”

“Hehe,” you laugh half-heartedly. You catch the eye of Wonwoo, glancing over his shoulder with a small, teasing smile. You smile back.

“I have a big- oh wait, wait, new guy, uhh, Jeon? Come over here real quick!” Suddenly his solid fingers waft the now scared Wonwoo over. The spectacled man’s shoulders hunch up as he moves off the chair, nodding respectfully. Wonwoo stands beside Stanley at your desk, and you focus your attention on Stanley, hoping to not get too lost in the idea of Wonwoo again - you were doing so good today.

“I have a big job for you, and I thought you could work with Wonwoo on it,” Stan moves his hand up to cup the side of his mouth, as if telling you a big secret, “seeing as he was a bit of a star over in Wallingset.”

Shit. The guy you were daydreaming about was working with you? Wonwoo laughs, embarrassed, but you hardly have time to catch it. You can’t do this. Yesterday you were thinking about him fingering you while looking at you lovingly!

“We have a massive, new client! Just dropped a big competitor of ours, and they want us to do their six month report!” Stanley seems genuinely excited about this, so you can’t help feeling a little guilty that you’ll be a gobbering, slobbering mess, sitting beside Wonwoo on this.

“That’s great-”

“I know! So, my two star members in accountancy, I’ll hand this off to you. The data should be coming into your emails soon,” without letting either of you react, Stanley hunches over, like a coach does before a little-league baseball game, wrapping his arms around both of you and Wonwoo. “You got this, troopers!”

Stanley claps his hands on both of your backs, so hard you jerk forward at the movement, and then he bounces off to the elevator at the far end of the room. You sigh heavily from the interaction. It’s quiet for a moment, while you fiddle with the papers in front of you.

“What a guy,” Wonwoo muses finally, thin fingers resting on the edge of your desk. You giggle, unable to look him in the eye for fear that you might remember how you’d thought about starting a family with him. “Yeah.”

You and Wonwoo settle into an unoccupied meeting room, and it’s all very professional. Markers and post-its, trying to find the best way to structure the report, excel sheets to categorize and overlook data, double check numbers.

However bad you think it’s going to be, you’re wrong. Wonwoo is easy to talk to - he’s quiet, but he’s intelligent, and he understands how to bring on conversation, even when you fold in on yourself like a used napkin.

“Yeah, we used to steal signs from our neighborhood,” Wonwoo admits halfway into a conversation about your hometowns. “I don’t think that’s gonna fly anymore.”

“Why stop now? You’re letting societal rules hold you back,” you joke, and the two of you laugh, and it’s so pathetic, you’re certain you haven’t laughed this much in years, and the conversation has lasted maybe 20 minutes.

“Well, I could show you the craft, you know, it’s a delicate process-”

While Wonwoo talks your phone buzzes and you absent-mindedly pick it up, reviewing the notification.

Your grin drops. Faintly, you hear Wonwoo stop talking. He tilts his head to study the way you frown at the screen. “What’s up?” he asks.

It’s the guy from last night and he’s asking if you’ll be available again tonight.

Maybe it’s how you could almost forget it - how you let yourself into positions that would hurt you, just to feel seen and heard and touched. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of that encounter and now, talking to Wonwoo, and having the laughter steal away the loneliness. But you’re reminded so terribly of your position. You’re reminded that this, too, will end, and that the loneliness will return. You’re reminded that once the shift ends, you’re alone again.

Suddenly you’re a thousand daggers all pointing out. You shield yourself.

“Uh,” you trail off, putting the phone down again. “Just some guy.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise. “Boyfriend?”

“No!” you say quickly. “No, he’s, uh. Just some guy.”

A pause.

“Okay,” Wonwoo says. You don’t even remember where you left off the conversation. You bite your lip because everything is all agony. The table is cold and dead beneath your hand.

“I’m thinking we group these together,” you say, eyes now tuned to your screen and fully submerged back into your work. Work. That was all that could cover your beaten down, cursed self.

The rest of the shift you feel Wonwoo looking at you carefully, as if he’s trying to read you. You don’t talk about yourselves anymore, no more banter, no more witty comments. You structure the report, and try to ignore how his eyes laser you open. You don’t like it. You feel like he can tell you’re a pathetic, lonely woman and that you have nothing and no one. You feel like he can sense the curse upon you.

This would be torture. _____________________________

It is not torture.

The next day, to your surprise, Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen. You wait 5, 10, then 15 minutes in the meeting room you’d camped in, before you begin working on your own. It’s slower without him, but you manage.

You can’t help but slightly worry about him. It feels stupid. You know you’re putting too much emotion into a person you’d known for two days, but you can’t help it. You wonder if he’s gotten hurt or injured, or if maybe he hates you and has transferred back. You think even Excel finds you pathetic.

You sit there for three hours, among the ruins of paperwork and your open laptop, running your hand through your hair and typing in sentences that mean nothing, and the wallpaper is off-white and yellowing at the top, and the blinds are closed to the meeting room.

Around 1 PM the door to the meeting room is opened, wood smacking against the glass that surrounds it, and Wonwoo stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath. You snap your head up to him, like the jerk of a lifeless doll, suddenly interrupted from a very disorganized Excel sheet.

“Hi, shit, sorry,” he gasps, slinging his bag off of his shoulder to sit down next to you.

“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, and Wonwoo nods blindly, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Yeah,” he says, cheeks slightly flushed and licking his lips. “My cat- my cat needed surgery, she got sick last night, it was an emergency.”

You nod in understanding, “it’s okay-”

You can hardly get the words out before Wonwoo rolls his chair back, wheels resounding hollowly on the floor, so he can look at you clearly. “I’m really sorry about this, it was not nice of me to leave you alone with this.” He gestures vaguely to the scattered papers, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, Wonwoo, I get it,” you say reassuringly, peering up at him through your lashes. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now.”

Wonwoo seems less intent on personal conversations today - it’s probably because he was so late, and now is trying to make up the time. But it’s okay, in fact you’re somewhat relieved, because it dampens the false hope that blooms in your chest, whenever he asks you about your life.

Even if you and Wonwoo work hard and quietly, you slip into the late hours of the night in an attempt to keep on track for your schedule. Outside the windows that separate you from real life, the sky turns orange, and then dark, muted blue, and stars begin dotting its impressive stretches. People begin to leave around five, and by the time you and Wonwoo finish all your work, you’re the last ones left on your floor of the office.

Wonwoo lets out a loud sigh when he finally finishes the second segment of your report, and the both of you slump back in your seats.

“It’s so fucking late,” Wonwoo limply throws his hand in the direction of the window. You smile a little, looking out. Smaller buildings spawn geometrically from the ground, and every once in a while someone walks by with their dog, spotlighted by the stretch of street lamps that stand outside the parking lot. “I really am sorry about this, you know. Really ruined your night,” he says quietly.

You shake your head. “It’s fine, I had nothing to come home to anyway.”

There’s a pause.

Wonwoo looks at you intensely. Oh shit, you realize, was that too obvious? Was that too pathetic? Has it just clicked that you’re a loser that no one wants? You nervously look back at him, but there’s no malice in his eyes. A totally unreadable expression adorns his features, where he’s leaned back in his leather chair, legs spread invitingly. You look away, feeling dumb.

“At least we followed our schedule!” you say. Wonwoo snorts.

“Yeah, thanks to you. If you hadn’t completed so much before I got here, it would’ve been hopeless.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff, blushing lightly and looking at the linoleum flooring. “I don’t know about tha-”

“Seriously, Y/n, just take the compliment,” Wonwoo reaches a hand over, and you watch its movement.

It’s like time slows down, not like the movies, no, like you can stop time with the heavy weight of your gaze, pinning his muscles in place. But you can’t, and it lands on your shoulder with a soft thud. Fuck. His hand is warm and alive on you.

“You did so well today, I-” Wonwoo cuts himself off, because suddenly you’re trembling.

He feels your body shuddering and jerking under his hand, like the wind rattles your door when you leave it open, and he can’t see your face behind a curtain of hair, but he hears you gasp, and, fuck, you look like you’re sobbing.

The man from last night had become so hesitant when you reacted this way. When your body trembled and shook and when you cried, but Wonwoo seems to understand. He peers at you from above the rims of his glasses, and his hand stays put right there on your shoulder.

“Y/n,” he whispers, so sincere it causes a pathetic squeak to escape you. What must he think of you? The thoughts spiral and you can’t control a single one of them, they dance like freed souls in your head, and you can’t stop the spasming of your muscles, and you know you look so pathetic beside him right. “Y/n, look at me.”

You don’t. You can’t. You can’t because there are tears spilling from the rims of your eyes, and rolling down your cheeks, wet and glossy. Besides, you’re an ugly crier.

“Look at me,” he says seriously, finger tightening on your shoulder. You try to steady your breath and calm your tears, before you obey and begin to turn your chair. The simple motion requires so much effort - it’s like the air has become so thick, that the friction against your leather seat slows you down.

Finally you turn to him, eyes first resting on his knees, then, carefully, traveling up to his face. He’s frowning.

Your face is reddened and your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are shiny and you chew your bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay.

Wonwoo looks genuinely devastated. The hand on your shoulder softens its grasp, then begins petting your arm, rubbing up and down. The action has you choking out gasps, trembling even more in his hold, and Wonwoo feels the need to roll his chair closer to you, so his other hand can grab yours. His thumb rubs over the back of it, and he lowers his head to look at you.

“Shh, relax, relax, Y/n,” he whispers, and you try to nod, but it’s so overwhelming; being touched, being seen, being heard, all at once. For months, maybe years, no one has touched you like this - as if they care. Now the feeling is foreign, so scorching hot on your arm and your hand, your body can’t take it anymore. You’re stuck between wanting to lean into his hands, wanting to feel how real you are, and how physically true your existence is, and wanting to shy away. What must he think of you?

“Y/n,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the sigh of your sobbing. “When was the last time someone touched you?”

You hiccup painfully. “Uhm- I- I don’t, ” your eyes are bleary and your lashes are wet. Your lip trembles and your whole body shakes when you try to breathe.

Apparently this was enough of an answer for Wonwoo, because he suddenly stands, somewhat harshly tugging you into a standing position too, and pulls you directly into the harbor of his arms.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his torso. His chest is pressed flat against yours, so, so warm, when he nudges your head into the crook of his neck, and presses his face against its side, sighing softly into you, and breathing warm air onto your hair. His palms push you into him, soothing your trembling body, and holding you like an anker. One hand travels up to your hair.

“W-Wonwoo, you don’t have to-”

“Shh,” he quiets you immediately, voice the softest wind of a peach tree. “Just let me take care of you.”

You do. Wonwoo holds you until you stop crying, and though it must’ve been twenty minutes or so, it feels like no time at all. Standing in his space, breathing in his dark cologne, and letting his heat thaw your dead heart is a totally timeless act. Joy and serenity flows from the places where your bodies touch. When you stop crying, Wonwoo holds you for longer.

Eventually, he lets you go.

You step back sheepishly, now much calmer and the red in your face faded. You wipe your tired eyes shyly with your sleeve.

“Thank you, Wonwoo,” you mumble, voice thick and garbled. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly, arm extending one last time to squeeze your forearm. Then it falls limp again.

“I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Of course.”

When you return home, you’re buzzing. Your entire apartment buzzes along with you, things seem to clatter and beam along with the bright, glowing of your heart. You snuggle into bed and nothing is still and even when you’re drifting into sleep, your nerve endings spin in joyful circles, and your feet are a static hum. Suddenly you are very, very real. _____________________________

You’d think the next day would be tense and awkward, and maybe it is at first, but soon enough you’re talking again, more intimately than before even.

This is Wonwoo’s doing - you know this. You know he’s smart and you know he doesn’t want you to feel bad, so he makes conversation and builds trust between the two of you. You know he hopes you don’t feel insecure. Every word he says and every flick of his eyes is riddled with it.

The conversation decidedly slows down your progress, so Wonwoo once more suggests staying overtime. You look at him for a moment before agreeing.

You can’t tell what his end goal is. A chamber of your heart has been revived and rebirthed, and you’re more chipper, more bouncy, but the rest of your heart insists: you’re still cursed - eventually it’ll go back to how it should be. You listen. You try not to get your hopes up that Wonwoo really cares about you. Why should he, really?

Although when you’re done for the day, about an hour after your usual 5 PM, you stand up and begin to pack your things, laptop sliding into your bag and clustering pens in your hand. It’s gray outside, but the sun comes in a single strand through a gap in the smog and the clouds. The wind hoots by the windows, and it smells like the indian you ordered for lunch together.

You stop your packing, feeling a set of eyes in your back. You twist your head to see him.

Wonwoo is sitting completely still in his chair, slack-covered legs spread open, and he makes no move to collect his own things. He just stares.

“What’s up?” you quip. You’re slightly nervous. Just before it was all silly childhood stories, college and weed and life before the dead-end job. Now Wonwoo has that unreadable expression on his face again.

He slowly lifts his hands from the armrest, eyes locked with yours, and claps his palms on the tops of his thighs.

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Wha-”

“Come here,” he says simply. When you stand completely still, like a deer in the headlights, Wonwoo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “What? You think you’re cured because someone hugged you once?”

“Cured?”

“You’re touch-starved, Y/n,” Wonwoo states matter-of-factly, “you need to be touched.”

“Touch-starved?” you echo, a bewildered expression on your face.

“We can also just hug, like yesterday,” he suggests calmly. You envy his collectedness. “I just don’t want you to feel bad. So please. Come sit.”

To emphasize, Wonwoo pats his thighs again, patiently. You step away from your bag with hesitating steps, pursing your lips. Your cheeks blaze when you look at his thighs again - they’re so long, and the folds in his slacks stretch down and centralize on his crotch and- You’re being a pervert.

“Okay,” you squeak and Wonwoo tuts. Why is that hot, you think, why the hell is that hot?

“We can just hug if you-”

You feel bold.

Without letting him finish, you swing your leg over his, and plop down, straddling halfway down his thighs. You thank God you put pants on this morning instead of a skirt, when you look down at where you rest on top of him.

Wonwoo is a little taken aback, but when you’ve settled on him, his hands find your waist and he looks up at you with a hum. Your breathing is a little shaky. Once again his hands provide a pumping of golden joy into your body, and more of you comes alive and becomes real, and you smile.

What had Wonwoo been talking about? Touch-starved?

“What’s, um-” your question is cut off with a gasp, when Wonwoo uses his hands on your middle to tug you closer. You rest on the highest point of thighs that you can without sitting on his dick. Cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut, you hear how Wonwoo hums, pleased. “What were you talking about? Touch-starved?” you whisper, keeping your eyes shut.

Wonwoo sighs, and once more, like the movement is entirely replayed, his hand finds your hair and pushes your face into the crook of his neck. You sigh against it, enjoying how his arms protect you and hide you from the evil of the world.

“If you don’t touch anyone,” Wonwoo begins, his voice low bass in your ear, “you become touch-starved. That’s why you reacted the way you did yesterday.”

His hands run up and down your sides.

“But- but I’m not crying today,” you say quietly into his neck. Wonwoo hums.

“No, that’s good,” he says. “We can stop if you really want, I just wa-”

“No!” your voice squeaks immediately, and, as if he were running from you, you fist his shirt to keep him close.

“Okay,” there’s a smile in Wonwoo’s voice. You can’t see it but you can imagine it.

Comfortable silence. Wonwoo traces patterns on your back and you breathe deeply against the skin of his neck. The two of you function as one living thing, the only living thing left in the office. Chairs are turned halfway, a couple lights are left on. The desks betray the past presence of humans.

“Wonwoo,” you pip.

“Mhm?”

“You don’t have to do this, you know? I don’t want you to do it if you- if it’s just.. Pity.”

Wonwoo sighs, and you feel the way his torso deflates underneath you. He trails his hand up from your back to tap your cheek. You move back and look at him.

Your faces are very close, you can feel how your exhales collide and then scatter, hell, you think you could count each of his eyelashes from here.

“I already told you. I’m doing this because I don’t want you to feel bad. I-” he hesitates for a moment, pursing his lips. “I’ve been there. So I know what it’s like.”

The thought of Wonwoo feeling like this, like you, is sickening. Genuinely sickening, you feel your insides turn to rot and mold and you frown so deeply, you think your lips might forever lock in that position.

“I’m okay now,” he reassures, reading you immediately. His hand finds your cheek and he almost cries out at the way you lean into it blindly.

“How did you-.. I- I always thought it was, like, a lifelong curse,” you say.

“A curse?” Wonwoo grins, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek. It makes you happy, it makes you feel like your heart will burst.

“Yeah. I guess I just blamed some old woman from my hometown,” you giggle, blushing a little because, yes, it did sound stupid when you weren’t just echoing the theory to yourself, like playing a team sport alone.

“You’re not cursed,” Wonwoo promises, tucking your head into his chest. “I’ll help you, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on.”

He does take care of you.

Every day you work overtime, and every day when you’re done with work, Wonwoo slides you into his lap and holds you, while you curl up in his chest. Then you talk and you laugh, and you listen to each other's music. His hands run warm up your back and in your hair and on your hips, gentle caresses, deeply intimate. For two weeks you and Wonwoo indulge in this nighttime ritual.

You have not felt lonely since that night. And Wonwoo can tell. Your skin is warmer and brighter, you smile wider, your eyes twinkle, and there’s energy in every movement. Your body thaws under his warm hands every night, and sometimes when you smile, he gets so happy he could kiss you.

You realize you like Wonwoo one particular night when you’re falling asleep in your bed and you can still feel the ghost of his arms around you and it lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep, and when you wake up you smell a little bit like his cologne. That’s how you realize. You like how considerate and how gentle he is, you like how sweet he is to you, you like how he looks when he smiles and when he laughs and you like how much he loves his cat. You like how his arms feel wrapped around you.

And you like him, and suddenly your apartment is a song that you dance in, and every photo on your walls is smiling and your bed is always warm and so is your heart.

There’s nothing dead in here, you think, when you cook a delicious meal on the stovetop, sauce bubbling in a stainless steel pan. Nothing haunted about your home or your heart. _____________________________

“We’re almost done.”

“Mhm.”

“I can’t believe we’re almost done!”

Wonwoo looks up, bemused, lips made small and pointed. You’re staring at the almost-done document, scrolling up and down through long and arduous paragraphs. It’s nighttime again - not that you had to stay late today, it was a choice - and the city glimmers brilliantly in the coolness. You and Wonwoo wear sweaters to keep warm.

“Feels like a lifetime,” Wonwoo murmurs, same smile upon his beautiful face. His cheekbones point out from beneath his skin.

“Yeah,” you breathe, leaning back. You won’t put your fingers back on the keyboard. Not when it could be done so soon. You look at him, all snuggled up in a brown sweater. “What if..”

A pause. He tilts his head.

“Well, are we still gonna talk?” you chew your lip dejectedly, feeling a little sad and desperate, but Wonwoo only laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, it’s one you associate with joy.

“Of course,” he says, as his laughter quiets down. “If you want to.”

A shy smile forms on your lips. You turn to look back at the computer, but you hear the now-familiar sound of Wonwoo patting his thighs. You flit your eyes back to him, teasingly scolding.

“We’re not done.”

“We don’t have to be done now,” he shrugs, an equally teasing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes, but, unsurprisingly, you shift over to him, sitting down in his lap. He immediately tugs you closer, fingers searching for stimulation on the seams of your jeans. There’s something different about Wonwoo today, you realize, his touch is more feverish, his fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips and he looks up at you like you’re a diamond-encrusted chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, all glittering jewels.

“What’s up?” you giggle nervously. It’s becoming hard to breathe with the way he paws at your hips.

There’s something in the air between you, but maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, concocting the magnetic pull that lingers between you, the thicker, heavier air, that urges you closer.

He sighs heavily, as if he was dreading this. All of a sudden composed, cool, icy Wonwoo is chewing his lip and avoiding your eyes, looking instead down where your fat gives way for his needy fingers.

“I, uh, I really like you, Y/n,” his voice shakes. “Would you. Maybe. Want to go out some time?”

At the last syllable his gaze locks on to yours, and you watch him visibly relax, because you’re fucking grinning.

Not maliciously, not crudely, not a dime or a dab of evil, only genuine joy.

“I-I would like that,” you control your smile, pointing your lips in the same way that Wonwoo does and blushing all over. Wonwoo grins too and it’s unbearably boyish.

“Okay,” he says, as if he can’t believe it. “Okay. Great.”

The window slams shut, the spell is undone by his hand, the dead defy their only law to bow to his necromancy. Wonwoo is alive and warm underneath you, and you are alive and warm on top of him, thighs pushed up against his and tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Your balloon of heart pops in your chest, and the bone-cage of your chest is filled with helium, that has you floating. Rosy and shiny, your heart beats at twice its normal speed.

There’s a lull in the conversation. It would’ve been a more comfortable silence, if you couldn’t see by how Wonwoo looks down and purses his lips, that he’s itching to say more.

Sparked by his confession, you confidently snake your hand up to tap his cheek lazily. He turns to you with a loafy smile. “What is it?”

He breathes out unsteadily.

“You’re-” he closes his eyes. “There’s so much I like about you. It- It makes me feel really bad that you weren’t feeling well, so I-”

He cringes at himself, one hand pushing away his glasses to rub the eyes underneath them.

“Can I make you feel better?” he asks vaguely.

You huff out a laugh. “Are you trying to ask if I want to have sex?”

He laughs too, behind his big hand. “No. It’s not the same, I want it to be about you!”

You laugh more, and Wonwoo’s face reappears as he lowers his hand. He looks up at you adoringly, dotingly. He’s smiling.

“I’m being serious,” he says quietly, when you finish. He seems less embarrassed now, more so smug. “I want to make you feel good.”

He’s paying an awful lot of attention to your hips, which he has not let up massaging and squeezing roughly.

“Can I..?” he begins, eyes fixed on your hips in his lap. “Can I make you cum?”

Then, slowly, Wonwoo lifts his hands and gently places them around on your face. His touch is always as soft as a hope-laced wind. He’s warm and he’s alive and he’s holding onto you, and you see it in his eyes: you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips.

“Please.”

That’s all he needs, before he presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is everything you want it to be; because it’s loving. It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s gentle, there’s no tongue, just the soft, warm, real, alive flows of his lips against your own. His hands on both of your cheeks caress your cheekbones gently, and warm air is spilled in the small space between you. He pulls away, panting.

“I don’t understand it,” he mumbles, before he’s pressing his lips back to yours hungrily. You let out a confused hum, and you have to gently push at his shoulder to back him off again. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“Why you were so alone,” he breathes, transfixed on your lips. “I want to be with you all the time.”

Before you can respond, Wonwoo grips the underside of your thighs, lifting you and himself from the chair and placing you on the desk. You gasp at the impact when the glass table meets your bottom, and Wonwoo is standing over you, suddenly so tall and so broad, and slimming at the waist. His narrow eyes become hooded behind the reflection of his glasses. His head is tilted down to meet yours.

“Can I take off your clothes, pretty?”

You don’t answer, only grip the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head, so your bra-clad chest is exposed to him. He groans at the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, nimble fingers dancing across your back to unclip the bra, sucking in a harsh breath the fabric becomes loose, sliding down your arms. “Such a pretty girl.”

“Stop,” you whisper, face warm and red. Your heart has never beat this way. It’s utterly unbearable and addicting at the same time, it’s without rhythm or class, it’s wild. And it’s because he’s looking at you and it’s not just lust. It’s adoration. There are deeper strings to the make-up of his eyes, there are lines connected to his heart, and he’s all flushed.

“What?” he asks. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

Wonwoo throws your bra on the floor next to him, hands finding the hem of your pants. “Can I take your pants off?”

You nod, still so shy and abashed, because Wonwoo’s eyes feel like a pink spotlight, and you are bathed in its warmth. He unbuttons your pants and you gently slide off the table to work them off your legs.

“Your panties are cute,” Wonwoo remarks (it should feel lewd, but he has a hand on your hip, that brushes the bone and he smiles at it). “Thank you,” you breathe, before you’re taking them off too.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to, but he still insists on gently lifting you back onto the table, and he kisses your nose when you’re sitting before him. He’s standing in between your legs, and then he’s looking down at where wetness drips onto the glass table.

His hand slides down your stomach, resting on the fat of it. He’s smiling, he’s so gorgeous, because he’s smiling the most gentle smile at how wet you are and how it leaks onto the table and his hand is so warm on your stomach, doing nothing, yet turning you on even more than you’d ever been before.

He sighs like he’s carrying the greatest burden on his broad back. “You’re so pretty,” he says, almost exasperated by it. He pinches some of the fat of your stomach between his fingers lovingly. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

Then the hand on your stomach slides down further. His large, veiny hand cups your pussy, the tips of his fingers just barely teasing your hole. You whimper against him, hands finding his biceps for support. Wonwoo studies you, craning his neck down to peer at your face, while his fingers begin swaddling your folds.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles, trying to catch your eye where you bury into his chest. One finger dips into your hole, penetrating slowly and settling knuckle-deep.

“Wonnie!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Mmm, clenching down on Wonnie’s finger so hard. My beautiful girl.”

He begins pushing his finger in and out of you, pace slow and torturous. His other hand slides up and down your body, squeezing your waist then your thigh, then coming right back up to fondle your chest. He pushes your back flat against the glass, so you’re all splayed out for him and you watch him from there, eyes hooded and legs spread to accommodate him. He breathes in shakily at the sight of you.

“Shit, Y/n. What were you doing hiding all this from me?” His finger picks up the pace, as another finger slips in alongside it. You’re moaning and panting, lips red and hair mussed, unable to focus on his words, when his fingers curl against that spongy spot inside you. Apparently Wonwoo expects an answer though, because he speaks again, voice lower and rougher. “Hm? You didn’t want to go have lunch? What, was it that guy?”

“W-What?”

“Just some guy,” Wonwoo echoes your past words, emphasizing with a harsh thrust of his fingers.

“N-No, I- Hng!” you cry out, when Wonwoo’s thumb presses onto your clit. He rubs it torturously. “I-I was embarrassed because I- I was thinking about you!”

“Oh?” this catches Wonwoo’s attention, as he diligently works his hand within you, staring down at your naked form, fully clothed and tall. “Tell me what you were thinking about, baby.”

“This!” you cry out, too high off the pleasure to really feel embarrassed about it.

“Pretty, sweet, dumb baby. You were thinking about you whimpering and writhing while I fuck you with my hand, hm?”

“N-No,” you mumble, cheeks aflame. “W-Was thinking about you l-liking me.”

At this Wonwoo hastily leans over you, pressing his lips onto yours again, and this time his tongue pries open your mouth, wet and warm in the cavern of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, hips canting into his hand. There’s something so desperate about him then, something so eager in the way he crooks his fingers, and how he kisses you, panting and covering your face in warm air. You feel a tight knot in your stomach.

“Cum on my fingers, please, pretty, sweet, baby, darling,” he mumbles into your mouth, rushing out the words before he’s sealing your lips again.

“God, I think I might fall in love with you.”

That makes you cum. You cum so fucking hard, clenching around his fingers like an air-tight seal, and your cum spills onto his fingers and his name spills into his mouth. The curse comes out with it, escaping like the air that spills out from an ancient, rediscovered chamber, and dissipating into the night. Your heart is beating and you’re breathing into his mouth, nose brushing his.

“Good girl,” he breathes, finally releasing your lips and letting his lips fall heavy and wet on your cheek.

He pulls out his fingers, unbearably wet and slick, and you think for a second that he’ll let you calm down and then maybe he’ll put his dick in you, but as soon as the fingers are out of you, they’re settling back on to your clit, rubbing heavy-handed circles.

You whine, arching your back off the table and wiggling your hips at the overstimulation. His other hand catches your hip and he shushes your cries softly.

“You can cum again, can’t you, baby? You can take it,” he says, so nonchalantly, while his slick fingers rub you. You cry out. Your legs are shaking. “Think you can cum again from just this?”

“Y-Yes,” you sigh and when you look down, his entire hand covers your pussy, as he pets your clit in circles. He smiles at your words, pinching your clit teasingly. It causes a squeak to escape you, hips struggling against his hold, where he pins you to the table.

“Good girl,” he praises, purring. “Letting me use your pretty pussy like this, letting me make you feel good.”

His body in front of you prevents your legs from closing, but, God, do they try, knees pinching his thin waist, and hair bunching up on the glass when your face scrunches up in pleasure.

“A-a-ah!” you cry out. Your hips involuntarily begin to inch away from him, but Wonwoo pulls you back with one strong hand, tutting.

“Don’t do that,” he mutters, pouting. “You need to be touched, remember?”

The whole thing is so heart-achingly intimate. The way he stands, still fully clothed and with a huge fucking tent in his pants, simply rubbing your pussy and looking at you with heart-eyes. Seriously, eyes swimming with adoration for you, teasing words slipping from his mouth unable to mask the genuine wonder he feels, at how you gasp and you arch and you clean and you jerk from the simplest of his movements. And your pussy is so warm and wet under his hand, and his body between your legs is so warm, and you cum again from just that; from how much love he looks at you with, and from the fingers crooking to pinch your clit again, wet and swollen underneath his glistening fingertips.

“W-Wonwoo!” you cry out, cumming again, and your body convulses around his, when it oozes out of your hole. Wonwoo’s fingers gently work you through it. His gaze on you is so intent, so careful and insistent, you can’t bear it, the way he sees you totally lost in the pleasure he brings you.

“There you go,” he whispers gently, fingers letting up and disappearing from your pulsating pussy.

“Wonwoo,” you mewl tiredly, pushing yourself onto your elbows to look up at him. He looks at you, so sweetly, so attentively, hands immediately finding your back to stabilize you. “Can I please have your cock now?”

“We don’t have to-”

“I want to!” you interrupt him, brows furrowed and lips in a pout. Wonwoo grins at that and though he may deny it, you don’t miss the red that twinges his cheeks.

“It’s just if you were too tired..-”

“I’m not,” you say decidedly, and Wonwoo nods.

“Okay. C’mere then.”

You’re confused when Wonwoo sits back down in the office chair, fingers working his slacks open. He doesn’t answer to your grimace though, only manages his pants unzipped and in one lift of his hips, peel both them and his boxers down.

His cock springs free, and your confused grimace is replaced with one of awe. It’s pale and veiny, the head is red and thin, white liquid oozes from it, like melted candle wax. And it’s huge.

You’re too slow to mask your amazement, it seems, because when your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, smiling smugly.

“Come ride me, baby.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You slide off the table eagerly, lumbering over to where he’s relaxed against the back of the chair. He looks up at you, all naked and pretty, with a grin.

The top buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, but he must’ve given up halfway. Either way, the milky plates of his chest are exposed, shining gloriously in the warm office light, and he discards his glasses, face fully exposed to you. He’s beautiful, and you think to tell him.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, planting each leg around his, so you’re straddling him. Like your ritual, Wonwoo grips your middle and pulls you closer, but this time it’s even closer than normal. Your stomach meets his dick, all heavy and hot on your skin, and your breath hitches at the sensation.

“You’re beautiful,” he teases, looking up at you. You smile.

“Can I put it in?” you ask.

“As if the answer was ever gonna be no?”

You snort out a laugh, raising yourself by your thighs and gripping the base of his dick to steer him inside. He hisses at the feeling of your hand grappling with his impressive size, and he hisses once more when the head of his cock buries into your heat.

His hands on your waist anchor himself while you slowly sink down, until he’s so fully sheathed in you, you think the tip of his cock must be brushing your heart, because it feels like it’s swinging in your chest.

“You’re so big,” you whimper, clutching his broad shoulders, and scrunching the fabric on top of them.

“Don’t say shit like that, I’m gonna cum, babe,” he grits out, fingers bruising your waist. You mewl, clutching his shirt. Then you begin to bounce.

Your thighs flex on either side of him as you heave up and down his cock, the both of you gasping into each other, and clutching each other for stability.

“Shit,” he pants out, genuinely out of breath. “Fuck, you’re the loveliest girl in the world.”

You cry out, pressure already welling in your stomach and burying yourself in his neck like you’ve always done, and it’s so intimate and he’s warm, and, fuck, he wants you. You can feel it in his grip, in his cock, in his words; he wants you more than anything. The thought makes you wanna cum.

Wonwoo is not quiet at all. He grunts and whines and his words are strangled and garbled, but frequent, showering you in affection and praise, while you bounce eagerly on his huge cock.

“You’re so pretty, baby.”

“Your tits are so perfect, shit.”

“Pretty girl.”

“Loveliest, prettiest, sweetest girl, bouncing on my cock, fuck.”

Praises spill from his lips in purrs, one after another, and when you cum you can’t help but return it tenfold.

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonnie, fuck! Gonna- fucking cum, I think I’m- f-falling in love with you”

You and Wonwoo come alive. Cum spurts from his cock and into your pussy, and you both cry out, entangled and completing one another in the space where you meet.

And it’s true, falling in love with him is so easy. And falling in love with you is easy too, you realize, because the second he’s spilled his cum in you, he pulls you from his neck to kiss you so deeply, so thoroughly, you think your lips might never unpuff from his hasty, bitten kisses.

His cock, now soft, still inside you, his warm chest against yours, his nose nudging yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the kiss is totally perfect, and you’re warm, and the windows are all closed and fogged up and there’s no curse other than the most fatal and most perfectly tantalizing of them all: love.

You are not alone. You’re sitting in his lap and you think if you give it a day or two more, you might want to spend the rest of your life with him.

You catch your breaths.

“You’re really good at that,” you say finally. He grins again, perfectly undone, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “Yeah?” he asks. You hum.

After some minutes of keeping him inside you, kissing lazily, running your hands over his pretty chest and arms, you pull back, beginning to flex your legs to pull him out of you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, hands wafting to still your movements. You furrow your brows, confused.

“Am getting your dick out of me?”

His hands sink down on your hips heavily, fully encompassing his dick again. You sigh at the feeling.

“Don’t do that, silly. You’re touch-starved, remember?”

He tilts his head teasingly.

“So why don’t you just sit snug on my cock, so you can get all the closeness you need?”

#jeon wonwoo x reader #smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #svt angst #wonwoo angst #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you

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kitten4sannie · 3 months

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ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ, ʟɪꜰᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʀᴀᴄᴇ

ʜᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴇx/ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

pairing: seasoned model! seonghwa x newcomer model! reader (fem) x models! woosan feat. director! hongjoong

genres: modeling au, smut

summary: walking for this season’s collection means everything to you, and you’re not about to let anyone get in the way, especially not a man who’s dead set on taking your place, no matter how insanely pretty he may be.

w.c: 4.8k

warnings: everyone’s an asshole here lol, use of drugs/alcohol, dom! seonghwa, bratty sub! reader, dom-ish poly! woosan, usage of the word ‘mommy’, mutual masturbation in the back of a limo, handjobs, tension, name calling/pet names, degradation/praise, brat taming, manhandling, choking, thigh grinding, kissing, brief spit play, hair pulling, marking, nasty hate sex in a club bathroom, creampie, brief breeding/bulge kink

a/n: i wanted to write like 10k words for this fic bc modeling aus just make me lose it fsr esp when ateez is involved 🧎🏻‍♀️maybe i will one day <3 i had sm fun with this one arrghhh!! alsoooo i can’t believe there’s only one more story left to share with you all like huhh ??? 😺time flies man ;~; anyways please enjoy xx

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

Modeling, for some, was about being a part of something bigger than them — the head-turning brands, the constant development of fashion and what was considered to be hot and new, the runways, the avant-garde collections, the hazy after parties that supplied them with drugs, alcohol, and sex. All the excess, the gaudiness of it all, kept your cohorts going, kept them content, kept them chained to the modeling world, all the while they scratched at their pearl-adorned necks and begged for more.

All of that was fun, sure, but what kept you on your hands and knees, what fueled you to continue dragging yourself up through the ranks, what gave you the strength to bow down and service executive after executive, what propelled you to treat your body like the ultimate temple, was the glory. The moment you were up on that stage, basking in the blood and tear soaked limelight, cameras flashing, rendering you blind, your dear director’s arm hooked securely around your waist, your perfect face ready to be displayed on every magazine cover; that’s why you sacrificed everything. That’s why you gave all of yourself to the fashion beast — let it consume you whole, spit you out, and mold you into something they wanted. And you weren’t about to let anyone get in the way.

On the way to your esteemed director’s latest show, you let your mind go blank in the back of the spacious limousine, resting your half-empty glass of champagne in between your legs, not paying any mind to the boisterous conversation your modeling friends were having from either side of you until one of them suddenly grabbed onto your arm and tugged on it.

“Hey, baby, you’re gonna want to hold onto your tits…” San, your best friend since your first real shoot, warned you, before popping a few pills into his mouth and downing them with some sparkling champagne.

“Why? What’s going on?” you asked concernedly, not ready for anything bad to happen on your big night.

“Look at this…” Wooyoung, your ride-or-die, who was a part of the package deal when you initially met San, spoke up beside you, leaning across the padded seat to show you something on his phone.

You took a slow sip from your glass, your eyes studying the large, obnoxious headline that sat at the top of the celebrity news article, having to cover your mouth to keep yourself from spraying champagne all over.

Fashion Icon Park Seonghwa Joins Kim Hongjoong’s Spring Collection Due to Last Minute Inspiration

You started to read more of the article but you felt sick to your stomach with the way they were giving Seonghwa that Samsung spin cycle sloppy toppy 9000 through their embellished wording. “This cannot be happening…Tell me this is a joke!” you gasped, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s silk sleeve and San’s leather-bound pants, pleading with both of them with your teary eyes. “If he’s going to be there, everything will be fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.”

“Everything will be fine, doll.” Wooyoung pressed his plump, glossy lips to your cheek and lips, trying to calm you down, running his fingers through your hair. “Just relax for me…”

Your rigid body slowly began to relax, leaning further into the kisses he gave you, almost forgetting around your second counterpart, until he placed a gloved hand around your upper thigh and squeezed it, causing you to face him. “Sannie…”

“I’m sure you’ll still be the center of attention, baby.” San continued to rub your thigh, his hand moving further and further up your bare leg, compelling you to look down at the logo engraved on his expensive glove until it disappeared underneath your tiny skirt. “I mean, look at you,” he continued in a low tone, giving you a perverse smile, motioning to the tight, sleek black designer dress you were wearing, one that Director Kim himself created for you, his star pupil.

“He’s right, doll,” Wooyoung agreed, bringing his pinky up to his nose to snort something powdery, before leaning over to kiss you on the neck, his own hand making its way to your other thigh, pulling it open just as San did, their fingers slipping up and down your bare cunt from underneath your skirt. “You’ll always be everyone’s favorite…Our favorite too.”

You basked in your modeling friends’ depraved attentiveness like you always seemed to do, all three of you just drinking in the pleasing sight of one another, your hands rubbing over their hardening cocks through their expensive clothing, eventually finding your way underneath it, much to their enjoyment.

With one hand around each of their cocks, you jerked them off with frightening accuracy, knowing when to squeeze around their glistening cockheads and what vein to rub at with your thumbs to make them whimper and whine in your ears, using their leaking pre-cum to lube them up. “Aww, does that feel good? Are you two going to cum just for me?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Wooyoung let slip out in a shaky breath, his wrist starting to cramp up from how hard he was finger-fucking you, leaving messy kisses across your collarbone.

“Gonna cum for my favorite girl,” San exhaled into your pierced ear, pinching his gloved fingers tightly around your clit, watching you spasm with a smirk on his flushed face, his pretty pink lips forming an ‘o’ as soon as his cock began to throb.

All three of you began to shudder and jolt against each other and the leather seats behind you, finishing your typical pre-modeling ritual with a much needed, drug-enhanced orgasm.

Once San and Wooyoung began to fix their clothes and hair using their phone cameras, taking a few pictures of themselves to capture their alluring afterglows, you reached forward to knock on the partition that separated you and the driver.

The window slowly rolled down, bringing you face to face with the seasoned driver. “We’re just around the corner to the venue, Miss.” His eyes widened slightly when you held your hands up in front of him, his soft, jovial expression forming one of shock.

“Napkins, please,” you requested softly with a cordial smile, as if you didn’t have your friends’ cum dripping along your manicured fingers down to your 24k gold bracelets.

࿏࿏࿏

“If Director Kim gives the final walk to Seonghwa, I’m going to kill him…” you hissed through gritted teeth, not able to look directly at Wooyoung or San when you spoke, instead having to look upwards so that the makeup artist could properly run their brush along your lash line.

“Director Kim or Seonghwa?” San perused, immediately sucking in his cheeks a bit, the person in front of him brushing more contour along his already sharpened cheekbones.

“Seonghwa…that beautiful prick…” Your eyebrows furrowed together, picturing the irritatingly gorgeous man in your mind’s eye with your eyes closed shut. “I swear to god if he takes what’s mine, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” you heard someone say in a silky smooth voice, one that made your heart just about burst out of your chest. “What is the pretty little new girl going to do, besides talk shit behind my back, hm?”

You opened your eyes just in time to see Seonghwa standing behind you in the mirror with one hand on his hip and the other swishing around some bubbly alcohol inside a champagne flute, his infamously piercing gaze settled entirely on you, your jaw practically on the floor.

“Face crack of the century…” Wooyoung whispered to San, the both of them grabbing onto each other and flipping out, waiting impatiently to witness what was about to go down between two of Director Kim’s most prized possessions.

Seonghwa carefully ran his ringed fingers through his hair, taking a few steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it somewhat roughly, looking down at you like you were the mouse he had just pinned underneath his claws. “Is this what they consider to be hot these days?” he grimaced, eyeing you up and down, running a finger along your jaw, knowing exactly how he’d get under your skin. “Times certainly have changed…”

You suddenly stood up and got in Seonghwa’s face, your stilettos giving you enough leverage to almost meet your sworn enemy at eye-level, pressing a finger into his chest plate through his perfectly tailored, button-up blouse. “You may be one of the hottest people in here, but you’re old news, Seonghwa. The only reason you’re considered an icon is because of Director Kim’s influence, okay? Let’s not kid ourselves.” Noticing the way Seonghwa’s face flinched, you knew you struck a nerve. Now it was time to deliver the final blow.

Seonghwa’s hand clenched tightly around his glass, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He took a step closer to you, so close now that his breath hit your chin. “You better watch your fucking mouth…”

Your friends let out silent screams, hardly able to let the makeup artists do their jobs with the way they were shaking each other. A few other models had stopped in their places to figure out why there was suddenly so much tension in their beloved workplace, their eyes on the both of you, whispering amongst one another.

You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side, ready to project your own insecurities onto Seonghwa for the sake of making him look so bad, he would hopefully decide to just storm out. “Why are you so mad, Seonghwa?” You reached up to run your fingers through his silky, wavy hair, giving him a fake pout. “Is it because everyone knows that the only reason you got into this show is because you let the director fuck you like all those times before? We’ve all seen the photos, you know. They got leaked everywhere.”

It wasn’t until Seonghwa threw a full glass of champagne on you, that everyone around you let out an even bigger gasp. Your hair was wet and sticky, your mascara began to trickle down your contorted face, and worst of all, the outfit you were going to wear down the runway in a few minutes was completely ruined. Filled with a sudden sense of hatred that bordered arousal, you grabbed Seonghwa by the collar, tugging him toward you, your lips almost touching. “You…fucking…cu–”

“Oh, sweetie…” Seonghwa reached his hand up to caress your cheek with an odd gentleness, smearing his thumb down your cheek just to ruin you a little more. “There’s no need to be jealous of me. It’s okay that you’ll never be Hongjoong’s favorite.” He gave you a sweet smile, one that was so angelic, you almost missed the devilish look in his eyes, his thumb now pressing into your bottom lip. “No matter what you do, no matter how much executive cock you suck, you’ll never be me. Accept it and you’ll be less angry…You’ll have less wrinkles too.”

It was just then that the director himself came strolling up with a few members of his frantic entourage, gasping in horror at your disheveled appearance. “Y/N, jesus, what on earth have you done to yourself, darling?” Hongjoong pulled at your sleeves and parts of your garments, tsking every now and then, absolutely appalled with your appearance. “There’s no way in hell you’re walking down my runway like that.”

“Director, please, I haven’t even gotten a chance to walk in tonight’s collection yet!” You shook your head adamantly, getting drops of water onto Hongjoong’s pristine clothes, causing him to grab your shoulders and squeeze them, giving you a look that made you shut up and accept defeat. For now.

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his grimace being replaced by a radiant smile, reaching up to twirl a lock of the model’s shiny hair in between two fingers. “I can’t have problems like these in the middle of my show…Take over Y/N’s place for me, will you, sweetheart?”

Seonghwa gently grabbed Hongjoong’s wrist and pressed a kiss onto his knuckles, leaving a lipstick print behind. “Anything for you, darling.”

Hongjoong blushed and walked away with Seonghwa, his entourage following close behind them, fawning over them in a way that made your blood boil. That should’ve been you, not Seonghwa, not someone who already had their chance in the limelight.

“Y/N, are you okay after… all that?” Wooyoung asked softly, rubbing your shoulder, frowning a bit at the small nod you gave him.

“Yeah, that was brutal to watch…” San mentioned, getting smacked in the shoulder by Wooyoung, pausing to give him a look, before bringing up a cloth to dab it against your dripping face. “You’ll bounce back from this, baby, don’t worry.”

After a few moments of silence, you suddenly pulled the both of them closer to you. “I’m going to be the final one walking down that runway, if it’s the last thing I do.” You leaned in to press a kiss onto both of their lips, looking up at them with big, teary eyes, your bottom lip jutting out. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”

Your friends gulped and looked at each other for the consensus, then back at you, their pretty faces full of the same mischievous tenacity you displayed.

࿏࿏࿏

Seonghwa never felt more alive than when he walked down the long, lit-up runway, sashaying his way to the end of it and doing a small elegant turn to the side, smiling ever so softly at the sounds of cheers and clapping coming from the vast crowd, their phones flashing as they eagerly captured the moment and posted it to their socials, most definitely gushing over Seonghwa’s beauty combined with his director’s creative vision, his body swathed in form-fitting, eye-catching cloth. Knowing he took that moment from the bratty newcomer and got to savor it all to himself was simply the cherry on top.

Even when he made his way backstage and sat down to have his hair and makeup redone, the buzz didn’t seem to leave him. The attention didn’t seem to either, his eyes flitting to the side when he began to tune into Wooyoung and San’s conversation as soon as he became the topic.

“Talk to him already,” Wooyoung encouraged, pushing on San’s broad shoulder to get him to move. “You wanna fuck him or not?”

“I’m too shyyy,” San whined obnoxiously, giving his best friend a pout, before covering his face.

“Oh my god, I’ll fuck him then.” Wooyoung casually moved his chair over to Seonghwa, draping one of his hands over the seasoned model’s thighs once he sat down again. “I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly hot you were when you put Y/N in her place earlier…It made me want a turn.”

“Is that so?” Seonghwa studied Wooyoung’s enticing features, his gaze settling on the mole that graced his glossy lips. “What exactly got you all hot and bothered?”

Meanwhile, San meekly sat down on the other side of Seonghwa, gently pressing one hand into the older man’s thigh like he was making biscuits. “For me, it was when you threw the champagne in her face…That got me hard…”

Seonghwa turned to look at San, nodding at his pretty, feline-like face with approval, before his chin was grabbed by Wooyoung, his fingers pressing into his cheeks. “For me, it was when you called her out for being a whore…All I could think about was you making me your whore instead…”

“Me first,” San whined, leaning on Seonghwa’s shoulder, trying to pull Seonghwa’s attention from Wooyoung, who gave him the evil eye.

“You cum too fast, San. He should fuck me first,” Wooyoung countered, smiling smugly, wrapping a lock of Seonghwa’s hair around his finger. “I’m versatile, by the way. We can do whatever you want to, baby.”

“Mm, tell me more…” Seonghwa requested, bringing his arms back and around both of their shoulders, enjoying the feeling of being fawned over by two extremely attractive models who seemed to be competing over his attention. Of course they would be. He was an icon.

At this point, the makeup and hair stylist had wandered off to take care of the other models, not having nearly enough time to care about Seonghwa’s current quest in getting his dick wet.

Your plan had all been riding on whether Seonghwa would be self-serving or not, and much to your relief, you spotted him whispering things into the ears of your friends from across the large room, taking the opportunity to fit yourself into the black form-fitting blazer that was matched with a simple black trouser, a few silver necklaces hanging from your exposed collarbone. As it was made for Seonghwa at the last second, the blazer had nothing underneath it, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination. It was explicit, to say the least. You already knew in your heart that your director would love it.

And, just like that, Hongjoong came back around the corner with a coffee cup in hand. Upon seeing you, he gasped loudly, stopping dramatically in his tracks, taking a long swig from his cup and handing it off to one of the nameless people next to him, causing everyone around him to look at you, including Seonghwa and your partners in crime. “Darling. Look. At. You.”

“Do you like it, Director?” you asked softly, running one of your fingers along the perfectly stitched lining of your breast pocket.

Hongjoong stood in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders, letting them slowly slide down the sides of your arms, his eyes surveying your perfect form, unable to take his eyes off of your exposed chest. “This is going to turn heads…This is…going to change everything,” Hongjoong sighed out, dollar signs in his eyes and inspiration pouring out of his very soul. He suddenly turned you to face the crowd of people, clutching your shoulders, ready to shed a tear. “Do you see this, everyone? We are witnessing a new era in fashion occur in front of our very eyes. Out with the old, in with the new.”

Your director continued on with his inspiring, soul-gripping speech, which resulted in a sea of tears and a wave of applause from your roused colleagues — yet you couldn’t hear a single thing. All you could focus on was the way Seonghwa’s dark eyes bored into you, his lips screwed into a deep grimace, his fingers gripping his chair so tightly he left indents. He was just waiting for the moment he could tear you apart. And for some odd reason, you welcomed it with open arms as you walked past him with your dear director’s arm hooked around your waist, blowing him a kiss on your way to the main stage to be on display for everyone to see the collection’s final jaw-dropping look.

࿏࿏࿏

“Y/N, baby, you’re trending!” San exclaimed loudly, having to raise his voice so you could hear him over the loud, thumping music that was blasting through the club’s speakers, repositioning himself on the large leather couch you all sat on. He kept his arm securely around Wooyoung’s waist, leaning across him to show you countless posts that showcased you strutting down the runway.

Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder, taking a drink from his glass, giggling to himself. “I think at least five million people have seen your tits already.”

“And, here’s to five million more,” you mused, holding your own glass up to clink it against Wooyoung’s and San’s, and a couple other drunk models that sat around the VIP lounge. After you downed your drink, you got up, wobbling a bit. “I have to piss. I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry back, okay? We have to take more celebratory shots!” San shouted at you as he watched you give him an ‘okay’ sign, before you disappeared into the large, sweaty crowd.

Little did you know, a cat and mouse game had begun inside that overcrowded club, your trek to a bathroom that didn’t already have someone pissing or fucking inside it no longer a solo adventure. Seonghwa weaved in between patrons, following close behind you, his dark gaze alone deterring anyone from trying to stop him and get in his pants.

It was when you found a lone, empty bathroom that he knew it was his time to strike, to teach you a much needed lesson, to show you who was really on top.

You barely had a chance to check the current state of your makeup when Seonghwa came barging in, pinning you to one of the sinks before you could catch your breath. “S-Seonghwa? What are you doing here?”

“Don’t act surprised now, you slut,” Seonghwa spat, shoving one of his thighs in between yours, his high heel clicking lightly against the tile floor below. He leaned in so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You thought you could beat me, yeah? Thought you could parade around like a whore and take my place? Take what’s rightfully mine?”

The more you tried to resist him, the more he shoved his thigh into your barely clothed core, the friction causing a small gasp to leave your lips. Not wanting to give in, you reached up to caress the huffing man’s cheek, smiling sweetly up at him. “Oh, sweetie, is this about Hongjoong? Are you upset that you can taste my wet cunt on his cock when you suck him off?”

Seonghwa suddenly grabbed you by the throat, his grip just tight enough to make your head go fuzzy, leaning in just close enough that his lips ghosted over yours, chuckling lightly at the strained moan that escaped your parted lips. “You’re such a goddamn brat…Why is that? Is it because you want me to put you in your place, Y/N?”

At this point in time, you were so wet, you were actively leaving a wet patch on Seonghwa’s expensive suede pants, unable to keep more sounds of pleasure from bubbling out of your tight throat when Seonghwa grabbed your hip with his free hand and began to actively drag your cunt across his thigh, able to feel his straining cock pressing into your heat.

“Answer my question, whore…Or are you that empty-headed already? Got cock on the brain?” Seonghwa questioned, hooking his fingers into the hem of your pants and pulling them off of you, not surprised to see your cunt in all its glistening glory, positioning you back onto his thigh so that you could eagerly grind yourself along it.

“Please fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me, Seonghwa,” you asked in between breaths, holding desperately onto his shoulders, incidentally pulling his thin blazer from his shoulders, revealing his perfect, glowing skin underneath.

“I do hate you. I hate your fucking guts,” Seonghwa growled, suddenly ripping your blouse completely open, grabbing and groping at your tits, squeezing your nipples roughly between his ringed fingers.

“Then rearrange them,” you growled back, grabbing either side of his jaw, the both of you meeting in the middle, your heated kiss consisting more of teeth and tongue than anything else.

Seonghwa lifted you up onto the sink, fumbling with his designer belt, encouraging you to reach down and help him pull it off for him, feeling his heavy cock drop into your hands. He groaned into your open mouth when you began to jerk him off, breaking the rough kiss to begin attacking your neck, making sure he left you with pretty purple bruises on your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Seonghwa…” you moaned, hooking your thighs around his impossibly slim waist, feeling him starting to rub the length of his cock across your aching cunt, the pronounced ridge of his cockhead repeatedly hooking onto your clit. “Do you have a condom?”

Seonghwa shook his head, cementing one hand around your waist, guiding the head of his cock into your tight entrance, your inner walls straining to take someone of his size inside. “You’re going to take my cock like a good slut, yeah? Going to let me fuck you raw, aren’t you?”

“Nnngh, n-no one fucks me raw, not even Hongjoong,” you whimpered pathetically, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, unable to do anything but take Seonghwa’s hot, pulsing length inside you inch by inch, about to melt into a puddle by the time he was fully sheathed inside you.

“Well, aren’t I a lucky man?” Seonghwa purred softly into your ear, just as he began bucking his hips up into you, reaching up to create a makeshift ponytail with your hair, tugging it each time he brought you down onto his cock, unable to keep himself from letting out a few breathy laughs of pure satisfaction, due to watching you completely fall apart inside his arms. “You like this, brat? No one’s fucked you on their cock like this, have they? No one’s ever treated you like the shameless cum dump you are. What a shame…”

“S-eong-hwa…!” you gasped, unable to speak with the way your breath was getting punched out of you each time the furious model slammed himself back into you, swearing he was going to bruise your cervix with such rough treatment — and you couldn’t have been wetter. “Please…!”

“Please, what? No, you know what? I don’t even want to hear what you have to say. Now, open your fucking mouth,” Seonghwa grunted in between brutal thrusts, reaching up in between your sweaty, disheveled bodies to force your jaw open, sending a wad of spit directly down your throat, feeling your cunt clench around him when he did. “Oh, you like that? Of course you do.”

“Aaah,” you whined, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, feeling almost completely blissed out when Seonghwa sent another wad of saliva onto your tongue, the both of you watching it drip down, before you swallowed it. “Gonna cum��”

“Course you are, you pathetic little cock slut…” Seonghwa reached down to rub his thumb roughly against your clit, still pounding into you with so much vigor, he had to time his breathing so that he didn’t get too lightheaded, routinely blowing wet locks of hair out of his focused eyes. “I’m going to cum too…going to fill this whore cunt with my load. Fill you up so deep, I’ll knock you up…I’ll own you…”

It was then that you began to cry, holding onto Seonghwa so tightly your fingers cramped up, your lower half cramping up in a similar fashion, feeling your warm arousal soak the both of you, allowing Seonghwa to slip in and out of you even easier than before. “Cum…inside…make me yours, Seonghwa…” you whispered, finally submitting to the man that you had been fighting with for who knows how long, about to willingly let him pump a baby into you.

If only your friends could see you now. They’d probably livestream it and give the audience a play by play from the sidelines, those sick fucks. You loved them for it.

“Hey, eyes on me. Don’t fade out just yet, not while your tight little slut hole is milking me dry,” Seonghwa mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip to catch your attention. He slid out fully and slipped back in one more time, holding you completely still, letting out groan after groan as he pumped his cum into you, not stopping until every last drop made it into your womb. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to your heaving abdomen, making you feel the pouch he created inside you, giving you butterflies from the sensation. “Feel that, Y/N? That’s the proof of my ownership. You’re no longer a mindless slut for just anyone’s cock, are you?”

“No…” you murmured, shaking your head, so dizzy from being fucked into submission that you simply leaned forward and rested your head against his heated shoulder. “I’m yours, Seonghwa…”

Seonghwa felt a sudden swell of pride inside his chest, his brain and body tingling with pleasure, like he was back on stage again, surrounded by a crowd of people that praised him, that so desperately wanted what he had to offer. He hugged you close, pressing his lips against your ear, his lips forming a soft smile. “Say that again.”

You smiled into Seonghwa’s neck, almost not wanting to let go of him, an unfamiliar warmth that rudely accompanied your hatred now present within your chest. “Now, let’s not get carried away.”

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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months

Text

— GIMME HALF

REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting

WORD COUNT : 8.4k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.

There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction.

Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.

Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door.

Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men.

There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son.

He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos.

There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him

As for the cons, we’ll get to that…

When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June.

When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.

The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one.

Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle.

After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.

Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.

Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.

The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.

The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.

It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily.

Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass.

Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room.

Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.

She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.

“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at.

She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.

“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.

“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh.

She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.

“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself.

Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.

“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.

Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”

“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.

“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.

His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.

That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on.

He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans.

The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.

Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely.

When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.

She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people.

When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.

It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.

Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.

They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.

Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving.

He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.

Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean.

So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow.

For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway.

She couldn’t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.

She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.

All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.

She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?

For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?

The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation.

With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him.

It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective.

It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.

The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.

She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?

She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.

The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently.

When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.

“What?” He asked bluntly.

She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet.

“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter.

She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.

She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.

She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera.

What a funny thing.

“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights.

“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything.

She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction.

“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters.

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.

He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted.

“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.

Now, it was awkward.

Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants.

“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing.

“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire.

“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.

“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer.

He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand.

“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds.

“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over.

“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.

“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it.

“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.

She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.

She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie.

“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added.

Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.

“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth.

“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him.

“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.

“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie.

It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.

“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog.

Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.

“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”

“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.

“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.

“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.

“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth.

“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair.

She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.

With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap.

“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.

“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.

“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.

“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.

“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..

“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table.

“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.

She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor.

He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time.

He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss.

He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.

He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.

“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts.

“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.

“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.”

She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching.

“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name.

“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.

“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.

“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly.

She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.

“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.

“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.

Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned.

He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more.

“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head.

He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.

Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.

“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole.

“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.

“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.

“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely.

“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.

He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly. “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck.

She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes.

“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.

“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy.

She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.

She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths.

Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw.

“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.”

She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch.

He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly.

He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath.

“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.

She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.

“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.

“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.

“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.

“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit.

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.

“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her.

“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.

“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt.

“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily.

“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his.

“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.

“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit.

She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.

“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him.

“Dean…”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”

As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would.

He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.

“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure.

“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.

“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.

➥ sempiternal

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choisanboobenthusiast · 6 months

Text

The Ring

Pairing: Sub!Hwa x fem reader

Genre: smut MDNI

Word count: 6k

Summary: Seonghwa comes home after a day of schedules in that YSL shirt. After thinking about him all day you finally get to play with him and he wants nothing more than to let you.

If you want a nice audio to go along with this story @sugarnspice630 posted this one and it just fits sooo perfectly I couldn’t resist adding it.

Warnings: extremely sub Hwa, so much nipple play (duh he’s wearing that shirt), oral/fingering (f receiving), toys, ass play (m receiving, the bulk of this fic is ass play, if that’s not your thing don’t read this), overstimulation, dacryphilia, cum eating, slight choking, name calling, praise, slight degradation, begging. If I missed anything please let me know!

a/n: hiiii, it’s been a while! I’ve been working on this for ages 😭 I just didn’t have motivation to write anything for a long while. However, this shirt on Seonghwa made me go absolutely bonkers like I just wanna play with his nips y’know? I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @shinestarhwaa for requesting subhwa 🫶🏻 Feedback and reblogs are super appreciated :) (and yes I chose The Ring as the title to be funny bc well… you’ll see)

masterlist

You had been hanging around the house all day by yourself, trying to keep yourself busy with random tasks, watching your favorite show, playing videos games, even cleaning. You'd gone as far as getting yourself off three separate times but no matter what you did you couldn't distract yourself from all the dirty thoughts you were having about your boyfriend.

You had woken up early with him when his alarm went off even though you had the day off of work. You always liked waking up with him, even if it was at the ass crack of dawn sometimes. It meant you'd get a few snuggles in with him before he had to leave, which you appreciated since he would often be gone literally all day. Today wasn't any different except you cuddled too long, causing him to be a bit behind on getting ready. He showered faster than you'd ever seen him do. Seonghwa was usually the type to take his time as he took his hygiene and self care routine very seriously. But today he just didn't have the time, he had a photoshoot and various other schedules to get to.

It had all started when he came busting out of the bathroom back into your room, clad in nothing but the small beads of water he had failed to dry off of himself. They sparkled against his tan skin under the dim light of your bedside lamp and his wet hair hung messily around his face. It's not like you hadn't seen Seonghwa naked before, of course you had, plenty of times but there was just something about the way he looked in that moment, naked and wet, that made you instantly want him. You couldn't help this was yours bodies response and Seonghwa couldn't help that he didn't have time to do anything about it. No matter how much you whined about it.

You had eyed him up and down as he walked over to the dresser, definitely not staring at his cock as it hung soft in between his legs and certainly not thinking of making him late by putting it in your mouth. Your lingering gaze didn't go unnoticed by Seonghwa as he chuckled, facing away from you while he grabbed his clothing out of the dresser, his cute little ass on display for you. Your panties suddenly soaked at the mere thought of bending him over the dresser so you could play with him. You weren't sure what had come over you so early in the morning, the sun not even up yet, but you were never one to ignore your desires and Seonghwa was never one to deny them.

"Seonghwaaaa." You whined as you crawled to the end of the bed, grabbing his ass playfully as you stood next to him and began to pepper his shoulder with kisses, your other hand playing across his stomach.

"Yesss." He giggled at your actions.

"You can be late can't you?" The hand you'd placed on his stomach flitted up to his chest, your thumb just barely catching one his nipples as your other hand massaged his ass.

"Ughh." He groaned in frustration, his head tilting back slightly. "This is really important, I can't be late today and I'm already running behind- ah!" You had let your hand wander further south to stroke at his slowing hardening cock. He breathed in deeply before catching your wrist in his hand and removing it, apprehensively, from his appendage. "I'm sorry, baby, I really can't."

You groaned but accepted your defeat, telling him it was alright to which he kissed you sweetly on the forehead and promised to make it up to you later when he got home. And it was that promise that had you on the edge of your seat all day.

Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you heard the front door unlock. You nearly ran from your spot on the couch to meet him, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw him. He had been styled to all hell, but in the best way possible. He wore a pair of dark slacks, his hair straightened and framing his face perfectly. On top he had a blazer that matched the pants, underneath he appeared to be wearing something very sheer, it piqued your interest.

"Wow." You gawked as you strolled closer to him. "What's all this?"

"Got to keep the outfit today." He beamed.

"It's nice." You fiddled with the front of his jacket, trying to take a peak inside as unobviously as possible but he caught on quickly.

"You wanna see the shirt?" He cocked an eyebrow at you. You only nodded, a devious smirk playing on your lips. He laughed lowly, removing his jacket to reveal a long sleeve blouse, completely sheer and extremely see through. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, gosh he really was so beautiful. "Like it?" As if he even needed to ask, you were practically drooling as you eyed his toned torso throughout the fabric, paying close attention to the way it brushed over his nipples whenever he moved.

"Love it." You answered, placing your hands gingerly on his hips before leaning in to kiss him. "You look sexy, baby."

He didn't bother responding, instead lifting his hands to snake them through your hair as he kissed you back. You groaned into his mouth as you pulled your bodies together, your hands finding their way quickly under his shirt to roam over the soft skin of his back. You stayed like this for a little bit, just kissing, hands roaming, tongues sliding together, breath quickening. His pants did nothing to hide his growing erection, every passing second you could feel him growing harder, pressing into you. You had been waiting all day to touch him, to feel him up against you, to play with him how you knew he liked. Now that you finally had him you were becoming restless more quickly than normal.

Still standing in the entryway, you suggested moving things to your bedroom, he was quick to agree. You could hardly keep your hands off each other as you made your way there, stopping every couple of steps just to kiss and touch.

"Been thinking about you all day, Hwa." You said, your hands chasing after his hips as he backed into your bedroom.

"Oh yeah?" He pulled you flush to him, fingers tickling at your collarbones.

"Mhm." You smirked and dipped your hands down to grab at his belt buckle. "You gonna be a good boy for me?" He nodded as you began to undo his pants, smirking at the effect these simple words had on him. "Yeah?" You unzipped his slacks and pushed your hand into them, feeling his hard cock through his underwear. "Gonna let me play with you until I'm satisfied?"

He groaned at the contact. "God, yes." His normally sweet and innocent eyes had turned lustful in an instant, staring down at you with need.

"So hard already, baby." You continued to palm him through his boxers.

"Been thinking about you all day, too." His fingers dug into the skin of your shoulders as his eyes closed. His mouth fell open slightly as you snaked your hand inside his underpants. You grabbed him gently, stroking his length slowly and running your thumb over his leaking tip. "Can I touch you too? Please."

Without a word you retracted your hand and rid yourself of your top, leaving your chest completely bare for him. "You can touch me up here but not anywhere else yet. Got it?"

"Mhmm." He wasted no time, his hands flying to your tits as soon as you gave him permission. He pinched at your nipples, rolling the hardening buds between his fingers while he kissed down your jaw, relishing in the tiny noises he drew from your lips. "So pretty." He mumbled, his lips making their way to your neck.

He continued to massage your breasts as you returned your hand to it's previous position, allowing the other to explore underneath his top. He loved the way you touched him. Loved how your hands felt as they grazed his stomach and flitted up to caress his chest. He was always so sensitive to your touch, his body jolting at the feeling of your fingers on one of his nipples, a tiny whine escaping him. You let your thumb rub slow circles over the bud as he grabbed your face in both his hands, kissing you hard. You kept your ministrations up as his tongue entered your mouth with ease, tasting you like it was his first time.

Still slowly stroking his cock you pinched and pulled at his nipple, earning yourself a string of whines and groans as his head tilted backward. There was nothing prettier than the sounds he made and you couldn't wait to pull more out of him. "Take you clothes off and get on the bed." You instructed, pulling your hands from him. "But leave this pretty little thing on." You fingered the hem of his shirt.

He followed your instructions immediately, taking his pants and underwear off hurriedly before getting on the bed on his back, propping himself up slightly on the pillows. His cock twitched against his stomach, leaking beads of precum onto his skin and shirt as he waited for you to come touch him. He stared at you hungrily, anticipating your next move, the mystery of what you might do sending excitement through him.

Today you weren't going to make him wait, mostly because you were so worked up already yourself. Usually, you'd tease him until he was begging and squirming, which admittedly didn't take all that long. But today you wanted to please him and then make him get you off afterwards, although you knew it wouldn't take anything to convince him. So before joining him on the bed you sauntered over to the closet, grabbing a box from the top shelf. Inside the box was every toy you and Seonghwa owned, save for some things like restraints and lingerie, neither of which were in your plans for the evening. Typically you'd just pick a toy and surprise him but you were feeling generous and wanted to let him choose.

"What do you want today, Hwa?" You asked, peeling the lid from the box and coming to sit beside him.

He looked at you wide eyed, surprised you were asking. "Whatever you want." He answered.

You set the box on the nightstand and touched his thigh gently. "I want you to choose, baby." You smiled, stroking his skin lightly. "Just pick what you want and set it on the bed." You turned your head away, wanting to be surprised.

You felt the bed shift a little underneath you and then heard him sifting through the box before he whispered out a meek "okay."

When you turned back to face him you were surprised to see three toys laid out next to him as opposed to one, which you were expecting. "Aren't we being a little greedy here?" You teased, taking note of the fact that they were all his and none were yours. "These are all for you, what about me?"

He was apologetic immediately. "I-I can put one back or swap one out-"

"Well, we're definitely not doing that." You nearly laughed, closing up the box and placing it on the floor before putting his chosen toys in it's place on the bedside table. "You chose these three things, we're gonna use all three. I guess you'll just have to work extra hard to get me off yourself then, huh?"

"I'll be good, I promise." He sat up, leaning into you, caressing your sides and kissing your shoulder. "Wanna make you cum." His fingers flitted back up to your chest, toying with your nipples once again as you sighed and turned to kiss him.

Before you knew it you were lying on your back, head pressed into the pillows with Seonghwa in between your legs, knuckle deep in your pussy. He had already made you cum once from just his fingers and was now determined to get you off again with his mouth. He loved how you writhed beneath him when he sucked on your clit and pulled at his hair when he curled his fingers inside you just right. You were a wet, sticky mess beneath him, gasping and moaning as your cunt clenched around him repeatedly.

There were few moments were Seonghwa got dominant but with his face pressed in between your thighs he leaned into it quite a bit more, which you never complained about. He'd edge you and overstimulate you until you switched roles again. You'd get this tone in your voice that let him know it was time to stop or give you what you want. And being the good boy that he was, he'd always listen.

"Fuuck." He groaned out, eyes darting upward to look at you, lips still attached to your leaking core. "Taste s'good." You couldn't find it in you to respond, at least not with words. Instead, gripping his hair tighter while grinding against him. While he played the dom part in this position, it was really you who was in control. He knew it, and loved it, wanting nothing more than to be controlled by you. "Fuck yes, baby, fuck my fingers." He was relentlessly pushing his digits in and out of you, an obscene squelching sound filling the air as he licked and sucked on your clit. He felt your walls clenching down on his fingers, watching your eyes roll back. "Gonna cum?"

"Mmm!" You whined, still unable to form a single coherent thought. The only thing on your mind the feeling of Seonghwa's long tongue dipping into your entrance with his fingers, your clit catching on his nose, your whole body seeming to light on fire at the sensation. Seonghwa loved it when you rode his face, wanted to be covered in your slick by the time you were done. You, of course, would grant his wish every time.

As you ground onto him with a tight hold on his hair he groaned lowly into you, the vibration of his voice sending you over the edge. Your body trembled and shook as you came undone, your legs snapping closed around your lover's head as he worked you through your high. As your body went slack he slowed his movements, massaging your thigh with his free hand and peppering kisses along your skin gently. He removed his fingers slowly, rubbing them through your soaked folds a few more times before you gave his hair a harsh tug. He got the message, retracting from your sensitive core completely and lifting his face to stare at you.

With your bare chest heaving, you looked down at him, and what a sight he was. His face glistened with your wetness, smeared across his nose and cheeks, dripped down his chin and with a wide smile and sparkling eyes he licked you off his lips. He sighed out, resting his cheek on your inner thigh, both his arms still hooked around you as he stroked your skin lovingly.

"I did good for you?" He asked.

"So good." You mused, sitting up a bit, your hand still tangled in his dark locks, you pulled him backward. He didn't resist, allowing you to do what you wanted. "Now it's your turn baby boy."

Seonghwa had grabbed three toys, a vibrating cock ring which you planned to put on him right away, and a butt plug and vibrator which you planned to tease him with until he was crying. You made him lie on his back first, sliding the cock ring onto his shaft and placing it just below the head, the vibrating part on the underside where you knew he liked it. He fisted the sheets while you stroked him lazily, not yet turning on the vibrations. His lips trembled as he watched you rub your palm over the head and pump him slowly, little gasps and groans escaping him.

"Feels good?" You questioned, although you already knew the answer.

"Fuck, feels so good." He answered.

"Ready for more?"

"Please." He nodded eagerly.

"Flip over, hands and knees."

He did as you said, switching positions to get on his hands and knees. He knew what was coming of course and his body shook with anticipation. You trailed your hands over his back, massaging him lightly, squeezing his shoulders and neck gently, raking your fingers through his hair. He still wore the shirt he'd come home in, it hung loosely around his shoulders as the hem brushed across the mattress. You let your hands travel down his sides and over his hips before squeezing his plump ass in both your hands, being sure to massage the flesh there too. As you did so he fell forward slightly, now supporting himself on his elbows as his breath quickened.

You grabbed a bottle of lube, dripping some in between his cheeks before coating your index and middle finger in the substance. You carefully rubbed your fingers over his hole, his breath hitching at the contact. You kept a slow pace, prodding your middle finger into his entrance just slightly before removing it to rub over him again. Simultaneously your free hand wandered over his soft skin, squeezing his cock and pinching his nipples, drawing out little whines from him. Any minute now he would start begging you to fill him and fuck him and let him cum. You sunk your middle finger into him completely and he groaned out into the sheets, his fists clenching at the feeling of you moving in and out of him slowly.

"Please, more." There it was. He lifted his head from the pillow it had been shoved into and peered back at you, his big brown eyes pleading as he whimpered for more. "Please, baby."

"Want another finger?" You asked.

"Yes, please." He nodded.

"Since you're being such a good boy."

You complied with his request, slotting your pointer finger in slowly next to your middle finger. He watched you still, mouth agape as you stretched him out, nearly drooling as you pumped you fingers a little faster. He groaned and closed his eyes, giving himself over to the pleasure and burying his face back in the pillows. Eventually your fingers moved quickly in and out of him, your other hand nonstop toying with his nipples. His body was shaking with every thrust of your fingers, moans and whimpers escaping him as you pinched and pulled at his sensitive buds which were now red from being played with. You purposely avoided touching his leaking cock all that much, wanting him as desperate as possible.

"P-please, fuck me." He whined into the pillow, his hips moving involuntarily with the motions of your hand. "Fuck, pleeease."

"You want your toy now, baby?" You slowed your movements, finally dropping your hand down from his chest to stroke at his cock, red and leaking all over the sheets.

"Yes, y-yes, want you to fuck me." He pleaded, voice shaking, taking on a high pitched tone. "P-please, please, I've been so good. Been a good boy. Wanna cum." He babbled on.

"You have been a good boy." You agreed, carefully removing your fingers from him. "My good boy." You grabbed his vibrator from the nightstand, lubing it up generously. It was certainly larger than your two fingers, but you knew he could take it. You rubbed the toy over his hole, prodding his entrance with the tip of it. "You're such a little slut, Seonghwa," He groaned. "Asking me to fuck you with three different toys. Begging me to fill you up."

"Yes, please, f-fill me, please." He was grinding his hips back onto the toy, desperate for it to enter him.

"You love it when I stretch you out? Fuck your tight little hole until you're crying?" You started to push the toy into him at an extremely slow pace.

"Please please please." He begged. "Please, more. Want m- unghh." He moaned as you turned on the vibrations, pushing it in further.

"I love it when you beg me, baby." You reached for his cock again, this time flicking on the cock ring. His whole body shuddered as you did so, causing the toy to slip in further and the most obscene sounds to fall from his lips. You began to slowly move the toy in and out of him, pushing it deeper with each thrust as you pumped his cock in unison. "Doing such a good job." You praised. "Taking it so well, Hwa. Does it feel good?"

"Yes!" He nearly shouted. "F-fuck, it feels so good. Love when you fuck me."

You continued like this for a little while, fucking him harder and faster but not yet letting the toy sink all the way in. You were honestly surprised he hadn't cum yet with the way he was mewling and gasping for air. At the very least you knew he must be close.

"D-deeper." He whimpered. "Need it deeper."

"Oh yeah? My baby boy wants the whole thing?" He nodded eagerly and whined when you gave him what he wanted. With the entire length of the vibrator sheathed inside him you released his cock from your hold and brought your fingers up to curl harshly into his hair. You pulled his face up from where it was in the pillow, his eyes wide as he looked back at you, face flushed, a bit of drool dribbling down his chin. You were no longer moving the toy in and out of him, instead just letting it sit inside him as it buzzed. Nearly every breath he exhaled was accompanied by a broken whimper, his mouth agape as he stared at you with all the admiration in the world. Without warning him you turned the vibrations up, hitting the button twice to put it at it's highest setting.

"Ah!" His breath hitched violently, the muscles in his back and arms tensing. His tanned skin now glistening with a sheen of sweat. "Please keep f-fucking me. Wanna cum. Let me cum please."

"Seonghwa, you can cum whenever you want, my prince."

"Mm-mm." He shook his head. "Don't wanna cum unless you- unless you're fucking me. Need you to fuck me." His voice trembled as he spoke and the way his fingers dug into the pillow told you he was holding back on purpose.

"Fuck, Seonghwa." You groaned at the sight of him, the throbbing in your pussy growing greater by the second. "Just need to have your ass fucked, huh?" You began to do as he asked, moving the toy in and out of him again, your other hand still gripping his hair. "Can't cum unless I play with your little ass? Fuck, look how good you're taking it." You released his hair, smacking his ass hard. He let out a high pitched strangled moan.

"Harder, please." He whined and you complied. Though you weren't sure if he meant fuck him harder or smack his ass harder, you opted to just do both. Going as fast and hard as your tired wrist would allow you to with the toy you slapped his cheeks a few more times, red marks beginning to form immediately. He was shaking now, a near constant stream of whimpers escaping his throat.

"Wanna cum?" You asked, obviously already knowing the answer.

"Yes, yes, yes." He cried.

"Play with your cock then." You demanded.

He did as you said, snaking a hand underneath his torso to stroke himself needily. "Ahhh, I'm g-gonna cum, gonna cum for you."

"Dirty boy. Gonna cum from getting your ass fucked?"

"Yes! Fuuuuck." He was pumping his cock quickly, hips stuttering as he tried to simultaneously fuck into his fist and move his ass back on the toy. "Right there, oh fuck, don't stop!"

"When you cum you're gonna catch it all in your hand, understood?"

"Mmmmf!" He nodded.

"That's my good boy."

With your praise he fell apart, his other hand coming down to catch his release as his entire body shook. His voice cracked as he moaned, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as he rode out his high.

"Good fucking boy, cumming so much for me." You continued to praise him as he shot his load into his hand. "Make sure you don't drop any or you'll be in trouble."

Once the trembling in his his legs died down you removed the vibrator carefully, setting it aside before turning off his cock ring. Seonghwa stayed in his position, face down, ass up, chest heaving, tiny sounds still managing to be heard from him.

"On your back now." You helped him turn over, gazing at his fucked out face. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks flushed red and he glistened with sweat everywhere. "Use your cum as lube, I'm gonna ride you." You instructed, grabbing his butt plug off the nightstand. "And get this nice and wet for me." You presented it to him and he followed your directions, lubing himself up with his own release, gasping and whining at the feeling of overstimulating his softening cock. He then reached his hand out to rub it around the butt plug and without having to be asked shifted the cock ring to rest at the base of his shaft instead of the head. "You're being so good for me, baby." You cooed, rubbing the flesh of his thighs gently. "Now show me your little ass. You want it plugged up don't you?"

He nodded fervently. Hooking his hands behind his knees, not seeming to care one bit that one of them was fully covered in his arousal, he pulled them towards his chest, displaying himself for you just as you'd asked. His cock twitched against his stomach as he stared down at you In between his legs, rubbing the plug over his abused hole. He was fully hard again almost immediately, throwing his head back with his eyebrows threaded together as you pushed the plug past his rim. He squeaked when the plug settled fully in his asshole and you ran your hands along his legs, admiring him spread out before you.

"So pretty, Hwa." You complimented, pulling his legs back down onto the mattress and straddling him. "My gorgeous boy." You slotted your wet pussy right over his dick, grinding yourself over him, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands grabbed at your ass, encouraging you to continue to move. A bit of the cum that was still left on his hand now transferred to your skin but you didn't care, you'd both need a shower after this anyways. "This shirt looks so good on you, baby." You sat up a bit to trace his collarbones and shoulders through the sheer material before bringing your fingers down to his nipples, circling your thumbs over them gently. His breath caught in his throat, his body jumping slightly. "Awe, my baby's so sensitive." You pushed his shirt up, bending down to attach your mouth to one of his nipples, circling your tongue around it and nipping at it carefully with your teeth as you continued to pinch and pull at the other. This earned you a series of whines and his hands in your hair.

"Fuck. Please, wanna be inside you." He breathed.

"Oh yeah?" You pulled away from his chest and his own hands found their way to your breasts, giving you the same treatment he'd just received. You sighed out and closed your eyes. "Want you inside me too, Hwa."

You reached down and turned the vibrations back on his cock ring, causing him to jolt at the sensation. You pumped his hard cock a few times, sliding the tip through your folds and over your clit, both of you moaning. You lined him up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his length, the cock ring coming in contact with your clit as he bottomed out. You planted your hands on his chest as he grabbed at your hips, looking up at you with stars in his eyes, eyebrows pinching, mouth agape.

"Fuck baby, your pussy feels so good." His fingers dug into your flesh as you began to move.

Before long you were riding him like your life depended on it, bouncing on his cock quickly. The sound of your wet skin slapping together filled the room, as did both of your obscene moans. You were close to cumming already, the feeling of his fat cock filling you over and over mixed with the vibrations of the cock ring hitting your clit every time you came down on him causing you immense pleasure. Seonghwa didn't look like he was going to last long either, his fucked out expression only worsening with time, tears forming in his eyes, a few escaping. His overly sensitive cock just taking what you gave him. Eventually you collapsed onto his chest, grinding your clit over the cock ring while kissing his neck fervently, nibbling at his earlobe, making sure to whine right in his ear.

"Fuck, you're gonna cum aren't you?" He asked, voice cracking, slapping your ass harshly as you nodded into his shoulder. "Fuck yes, baby, cum on my cock." He encouraged, smacking your ass again. "Gonna cum with you. Gonna fill up your pussy. Can I? Fill up your slutty little cunt?"

“Fuck yes, Seonghwa.” You gripped his hair, feeling the coil within you getting dangerously close to snapping with his words. “Be a good boy, cum inside me. Fuuuck, I love your cock.”

“Please! Please cum!” He shouted suddenly. “S’too much, I can’t.” He let the tears flow freely now, it appeared he had been holding them in. With his arms wrapped around your torso he held your body tightly to his, with his eyes squeezed shut and his little sobs falling right into your ear. “Please, need you to cum. Ican’tIcan’tIcan’t.”

You felt his fingers digging into your back, his body shaking beneath you as he cried. You knew if he truly didn’t want to continue he’d use your safe word. Seonghwa took pleasure in the immense overstimulation and enjoyed crying for you because he knew you liked it when he did. “Yes, you c-can, Seonghwa. Doing so good, baby, just a little more- ohh shit.” You felt your orgasm approaching quickly, the heat in your core building. You wrapped your fingers around his neck, applying some pressure. “Cumming, Hwa, m’cumming! Fill up my pussy, baby.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice, he came immediately as your cunt clenched around him, both of your bodies shaking as you climaxed together. He let a loud, broken sob as he released deep into you. You both rode out your orgasms, panting and whining, Seonghwa still crying. After a minute, both your highs died down and you lied on top of him, sticky skin sticking to his as you released your heavy grip on his throat. He tapped at your back quickly.

“P-please, t-turn it off.” You had almost forgotten about the cock ring buzzing around his length. He sniffled as he spoke, his voice sounding pained. “Please! Turn if off, t-turn it off!”

You almost didn’t, considering keeping it on and fucking him again. But with the way he was crying and shaking you thought he might not be able to handle anymore. So you complied with his request, sitting up just enough to reach in between your sweat covered bodies and turn off the toy.

“There you go, baby.” You cooed, petting his face sweetly. He let out a sigh of relief, a jumble of quiet and tired “thank you’s” falling from his swollen lips. His head slumped to the side as his body calmed down a bit. “My prince looks so pretty when he cries.”

You kissed his jaw gently, swiping some of his tears away. You stayed like that for a little while longer, his cock softening inside you as you continued to stroke his skin softly and pepper him with gentle kisses. You couldn’t bring yourself to part from him yet, wanting to be connected to him forever. His breathing eventually slowed, his crying nearly subsided and he began to run his own fingers along your back. You felt his cum dripping out of you, spilling out down the sides of his shaft. You reached your hand in between your bodies once again, this time to collect some of the sticky substance that was dribbling out of you. You swiped your fingers around his dick and through your folds before bringing them up to his face.

“Open up.” You said softly. “Look at me.”

He obeyed. Opening his mouth and jutting his tongue out slightly while simultaneously opening his watery eyes to look at you. You slid your three fingers along his tongue and he closed his lips around them as you pushed them back into his mouth.

“Mmm.” He groaned around your digits.

“That’s my good boy.” You praised. “Do you taste good?”

He nodded and continued sucking on your fingers, swirling his tongue around them and swallowing down the mixture of both your juices. When you removed your fingers he opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out to show you he had swallowed it all. When he closed his mouth he puckered his lips cutely, silently asking you for a kiss. You obliged, pressing your lips sweetly onto his, parting his lips with your tongue. The salty taste of his own cum lingered and you could faintly taste it as you lazily made out. Before long you could feel him hardening inside you once again.

“Getting hard again, Hwa.” You whispered into his ear, placing chaste kisses along his jaw.

“Can’t help it.” He said quietly. “Pussy’s so warm around me.”

“You wanna go again?” You asked, very gently rocking your hips once. He immediately dug his fingers into your side, holding your firmly in place and shaking his head.

“No, can’t.” He almost sounded like he was going to cry again. “Please, can’t go again.”

“Shh, okay, it’s okay.” You pet his hair and carefully lifted yourself off of him. “No more tonight, baby, you did so good for me.” You continued talking to him as you sat beside him and reached down to remove the cock ring, trying your best to distract him from the feeling. “You wanna take a bath?” You began to pull the ring up his shaft slowly and his hands fisted into the sheets. He nodded, squeezing his eyes closed. “Okay, good. We’ll get you all cleaned up.” You wiggled the ring over the head of his cock, which was now bright red and overly sensitive. He sucked in sharply, a tiny squeak leaving the back of his throat as you the ring brushed over his sensitive tip. “Good job, honey.” You set the cock ring to the side and rubbed his arms lovingly. “You okay?”

He released the sheets from his tight grip and placed both his hands on your thighs, a tired smile spreading across his lips as he stared up at you. “I’m okay, my love. You take such good care of me.”

You placed a hand on his cheek and he nuzzled his face into your palm, giving you a kiss there. “Let’s get you into that bath then.” You leant down and kissed him. “Wanna cuddle.”

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #sub!hwa #sub!seonghwa #atz x reader #atz smut #Spotify

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

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𓆩[in our next life]𓆪

𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the main taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 23K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - Use of Y/N || i promise I do not write like this in the fic- || reader was also forced into prostitution, but Finnick forced Snow to make them a pair || reader is definitely bi but has no (sexual) relations with women in the story || Finnick’s hand around your throat can be seen as sexual but it’s mainly just a comfort thing at this point || a lot of mixed timelines, sorry want it to play in my favor || mainly based on the movies bc I haven’t read the books in forever || Reader and Finnick are titled the Princess and Prince of the Capitol || you basically replace Annie || inspiration of your story from other characters || weird baby names inspired by the sea (cuz District 4, sea fishing etc) || This is so going to be a series- || smoking, smoking opium || This actually takes place in several different times, first the drawing for the Quarter Quell to the carriage rides where you meet Katniss and Peeta to the interviews to the literal Quarter Quell, being rescued, then skipping to after the rebellion is won (my darling doesn’t die, he didn’t deserve it <3). || Cinna isn't dead and he’s your stylist, and you and Finnick get married twice (once before the Quarter Quell, another after the rebellion) and of course he designs your wedding dress. || Finnick pulls a stunt like Peeta, turns out to be true later on || first marriage is televised a few days before the games, second of course is private || marriage ceremonies inspired by cultures, yes I’m giving District 4 marriage ceremonies and no I’m not basing this off the wedding in the movie, and this is my own little spin on the fic - I didn’t want the wedding to be boring || the party Peeta and Katniss go to in the second movie is your wedding || ngl, with these plans, I’m hoping this is long- || slight rift between you and Katniss at first, but you end up being best friends quickly || you make Katniss question her sexuality bc you top her for a minute- || CPR & mouth to mouth || Classic warning such as cursing, fighting, blood, death, and more to be wary of. || mentions of Finnick’s forced prostitution (brief, my baby has suffered enough) || smut is included in this; mentions of voyeurism and exhibitionism (explained in the story), breeding kink, size kink, oral (♀ & ♂), fingering, spit, slight choking, slight dom-sub dynamics, sex is definitely a coping mechanism, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, cumslut, maybe more?), probably dirty talk if you think about it that way, praise, mentions of a hazy mindset that could be seen as a subspace, definitely a soft dom turned pleasure dom turned rough dom Finnick, and more- just be wary.

—𓆩[CHAPTERS]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER I 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER II 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER III 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER IV 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER V 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER VI 𓆩♡𓆪 CHAPTER VII 𓆩♡𓆪 EPILOGUE

ALL CHAPTERS ARE UP!!!

—𓆩[DRABBLES]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 N/A

—𓆩[EXTRA FICS]𓆪—

𓆩♡𓆪 N/A

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literallyjusttoa · 6 months

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Muses HC's!

Bc why not, the muses are awesome. Also! Just a quick refresher bc I know not everyone is insane and has all the muses memorized.

Clio: Muse of History

Eutyrpe: Muse of Lyric Poetry

Thalia: Muse of Comedic Poetry

Melpomine: Muse of Tragic Poetry

Terpsichore: Muse of Dance

Erato: Muse of Erotic Poetry

Polyhymnia: Muse of Religious Hymns

Urania: Muse of Astronomy

Calliope: Muse of Epic Poetry

I know that Hesiod said they were daughters of Zeus but you know what I say? I say NO. I instead listen to what some other poets said, which is that the muses are very powerful nymphs that burst forth from sacred streams. I like to think this happened like five months before Apollo was born, and everyone was very confused about these nymphs that seemed to have control over domains that no one else really had any claim over, and then Apollo was born and everyone was like “ohhh that makes sense, yeah.” In a way, they prophesized Apollo’s domains (haha get it, cuz he's the god of prophecy, I’m a genius guys i’m a comedic geni-)

Thalia and Melpomine argue about everything, but they’re also inseparable. You’ll often find them discussing heroes' stories and debating whether or not their lives should take a comedic or tragic turn.

Calliope doesn’t just write epic poetry. No, she also appraises weapons and artifacts of bygone myths with Clio, maps out constellations with Urania, and watches over upcoming epic heroes with Apollo. She’s really the jack-of-all-trades of the group.

Soprano: Eutyrpe, Thalia Mezzo-Soprano: Terpsichore, Calliope, Erato Alto: Clio, Polyhymnia Contralto: Melpomine, Urania

(Obviously they can sing all the notes but this is like, their preferences when it comes to harmonizing)

Eutyrpe and Terpsichore love to have mini shows, with Eutyrpe performing any new lyrics she’s cooked up and Terpsichore improvising dances to her songs.

Clio’s kind of the unofficial leader of the muses. Like, Apollo is the official leader, but whenever he’s out of town Clio’s in charge.

Whenever Apollo makes a new poem, he shows it to whoever’s sphere it falls into first, and then Urania, bc Urania just loves reading poetry and her praise will heal the bruised ego he might have if the first draft was not approved.

Whenever Urania makes a new constellation, the whole group has an overnight star-watching session, where they reminisce on old heroes and make smores.

Polyhymnia and Erato actually have a lot of overlap. Especially because Polyhymnia was making religious hymns for greek gods and, well, you know how greek gods are. This is why Erato is the only one not surprised by Polyhymnia’s dirty jokes. The other sisters think Polyhymnia is “too pure”

Apollo has been with all of the muses, but it’s honestly more of a queer-platonic sort of thing (and/or a friends with benefits situation) he has a very fluid way of showing affection with all of them, since they’ve been some of his closest companions throughout his life. Also, the ten of them have single-handedly made it through the equivalent of thousands, if not tens of thousands of tech weeks together, and I don’t think anything could bond people together more than that.

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #sunny speaks #long post #headcanons #the muses #just finished making designs of them and I have fallen in love <3

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neowinestainedress · 2 years

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rose-colored glasses (all distorted) | lee jeno

title: rose-colored glasses (all distorted)

pairing: lee jeno x fem!oc/reader (no name used, written in third person) | mentioned: oc's brother!jaemin, lee haechan, park jisung

genre: bet!au, brother’s best friend, angst, smut, fluff (if you squint) | requested

summary: a long-lasting crush for her brother’s best friend, a bet, obsession, devotion and jealousy; all things that cannot lead to anything good. But the world that Jeno showed her was perfect and she couldn’t see what it really hid behind the rose-colored glasses. It was all distorted.

warnings: angst, manipulation, gaslighting, fights, jealousy, smut, fingering, oral sex (m and f), (semi) public sex (on Ferris wheel), pussyjob (i guess??), degradation, praise, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jealous sex, make-up sex, inexperienced!oc, feeling like tagging this dubcon bc of the heavy power imbalances (jeno is mean at the start and then he’s slightly possessive and she would do anything to have him in any way, do what you need to do with this information) but there’s always consent

words: 18.294k

a/n: i promise it’s a bet!au but with a darker twist. I enjoyed writing this even if it’s quite out of my comfort zone (please don’t make me write mean men anymore I need them to be himbo male wives) but as I said I’m happy with it so I hope the anon that requested it (and all of you) will like it anyway. This story has no intentions of romanticizing this kind of behaviour, if you realize you’re in a manipulative/toxic relationship please ask for help.

taglist: @wooyoung4eva @jenoxygen @sunshinedhyuck @kundann @jaeymark

Having a crush on her brother’s best friends was one of the dumbest things she could ever do. Especially when they had always been in two different leagues.

Jeno had always been the popular kid at school, after a few years of being a loser in middle school, he picked in high school and college. He was everybody’s first love, tall, charming, the captain of the basketball team, and he even had good grades.

She, on the other hand, was the opposite. Not a loser like the typical image of the silly girl with pigtails and round, big glasses who spent her days reading books. But still not popular enough to be at his level. She was reserved, she preferred minding her business and spending time with her few friends instead of living in the chaos of frat parties, or disco nights with people she barely knew. She was Jaemin’s sister but she couldn’t be any more different than him. Probably being his sister was the thing that worsened everything. Everybody expected her to be as cool as her brother, funny, cute and charming at the same time, but most importantly, not annoying.

And yet, all those differences didn’t stop her from falling for Jeno. It was rather impossible when he was always at their place. They grew up together. Sure, she was always a step behind, watching from the side, laughing at his jokes when nobody else did, reminding his birthday to Jaemin that never remembered, admiring him and cheering him silently for every accomplishment he made. But she was there, every day since she was ten falling for him deeper. By now she came to the conclusion it wasn’t just a stupid crush that was going to pass. Too many years had passed by and she still looked at him in the same, delusional, way. Even if Jeno never paid her much attention, no matter how hard she tried.

But it wasn’t like Jeno couldn’t see it. He knew she had a thing for him, he could see how she squirmed every time their bodies touched casually, or how big her lips curled when he greeted her and most importantly… rumors ran.

He knew. But there was something funny in keeping her on the edge, seeing that, somehow, the harsher he treated her, the more she came back, wagging her tail every time he acted just a little bit nicer than usual.

And his group of friends knew too, always joking about it when they all stayed at Jaemin’s place and he left for a few minutes, giving them the opportunity to talk about his sister that always found a way to go downstairs just to say hello. So they talked about her a lot, chuckling, joking, saying that overall she wasn’t that bad and maybe he could’ve given it a try. But all of them were a little bit too competitive. Jeno was sure that if he only gave her a bit more she would’ve fallen to her knees, Haechan believing that she was too proud and innocent to actually risk it for him, while Jisung listened, laughing, but not believing she would’ve given up so easily.

But Jeno was firm in his belief. He knew she was already his. But it was risky; she wasn’t just anybody, she was his best friend’s sister, and even if Jaemin never showed to care much about her, he knew it was still a dangerous game to play.

But Jeno was a player, and he loved risky games.

“What are you doing here?” She exclaimed when, turning around, she saw Jeno lean against her bedroom doorframe. “Jaemin’s not home.”

“I know,” he replied, shrugging and making his way in. “I wasn’t looking for Jaemin.”

She furrowed, trying not to panic over the fact he had never been so close to her with nobody else around. “Our parents aren’t home.”

He snickered, “I’m not looking for them, either.”

“Then who are you looking for?” Her voice betrayed her, shaking a bit, but she shrugged it off with an awkward chuckle.

“Damn, you are dumb, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“I’m looking for you,” he said, sitting on her bed, and looking around. “Jesus, you do love pink,” he exclaimed, almost with a hint of disgust in his voice.

“Can you tell me what are you doing in my room?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and standing in front of him, having no idea where she found the courage, and deciding to let the comment about her room fall.

“I’m throwing a party this weekend,” he explained, placing his hands behind him on the mattress, stretching his legs out and tilting his head to the side, “wanted to know if you were coming.”

She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head. “You are inviting me?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“You hated when my mom forced you to bring me along.”

“Yeah, because you were a loser back then and annoyed the fuck out of me.”

She gasped, staring at him in disbelief. “This is how you are inviting me to a party?”

“I said ‘were’, I think we can get along now,” he said, standing up, and leaning close to her. “Or am I wrong?” He whispered while his hand placed on her waist, making her move back in surprise, but he stopped her, gripping tighter.

She gulped, lifting her head, and stared at him. “You barely talk to me…”

Jeno smirked, caressing her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, maybe I want things to change.”

She swallowed, trying to keep her eyes on his and not on his lips, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss him. This meant nothing. Jeno never looked at her like that. So why would he start doing it now?

“Do you want things to change between us?” He asked, almost cooing, moving his thumb on her lips, grazing gently.

“Ye-yeah, I do,” she said, snapping out of her thoughts and pulling back, turning around to hide the big breath she was taking now that she wasn’t in his hold anymore. But Jeno knew it anyway; she always did that even when he barely touched her or stood too close to her for more than two minutes.

“Great, see you this Saturday, then,” Jeno smiled, winking at her before closing the door behind him.

Her heart was beating ten times faster than usual, and a grin was not leaving his face until he walked downstairs and saw Jaemin. That was going to be fun, but he needed to be careful.

The party wasn’t chaotic like the high-school parties he and Jaemin used to plan every time their parents weren’t home, it was mostly their closest friends and some other people she had never seen before. But the music wasn’t too loud, there was nobody already drunken or high, lying on the floor, and most importantly, there weren’t couples all over each other in the living room.

She found out later from her brother that it was an inauguration for the house Jeno just bought, finally free out of his parent’s clutches. But of him, there were no traces.

She had been wandering around the place for like ten minutes now, a drink in hand as she hummed to the music playing from the speakers. Pushing the black dress she was wearing down her thighs, regretting the choice every two seconds she took a step and it rolled a little bit more up on her legs.

“I was looking for you everywhere.”

“You scared me!” She screamed, turning around too swiftly and spilling the alcohol all over his shirt, gasping and biting her lips nervously when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, shit, sorry. I can help you fix that.”

“Enough,” Jeno stopped her, blocking her empty hand from touching his wet chest. “My bedroom, now.”

“Yo-your bedroom?” She stuttered as he dragged her upstairs, leaving the party behind. “What are we doing in your bedroom?”

Jeno laughed mockingly, pushing her inside. “We’re fixing the mess you made. Why? Thought I was dragging you here to fuck?”

She moved her mouth without letting out a sound, feeling shame creep over her face.

“Yes? Want me to fuck you, babe?” He asked, lifting her head up by the chin and smirking at her flustered face.

“I – no, why would I?” She chuckled awkwardly, pulling away. “If you get changed, I can clean it, and then I’ll give it back to you once it dried,” she said, bringing the topic back to his stained shirt.

“I have a washing machine here,” he said, hands moving to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, making her get lost in his toned chest and abs. She had never seen him so exposed, but she was sure as hell that he had never been like this before.

“Close your mouth,” he ordered.

“It’s closed,” she retorted, grunting but still diverting her gaze from him.

“Sure,” he chuckled, throwing the dirty shirt on his desk chair; he didn’t even care about the shirt, he just wanted to spend time alone with her. “Anyway, I need you to help me pick another one.”

“That’s why I am here?”

“Yeah, I told you, I don’t want to fuck you.”

“Stop it. I don’t want either,” she replied, biting her lower lip nervously and tapping her high heels against the floor.

Jeno studied her, another smirk curled his lips before he sighed. “Help me fix the mess you made so we can go to the party and have some fun.”

When they reached downstairs again, she had no idea how she was still standing on her feet, staying too close to him and helping him close the buttons of the new shirt he picked got in her brain. Jeno pointing out all her weird antics didn’t help her much at relaxing. And just when she thought she was free and could find a corner to dance alone and then run home and avoid him forever, she got dragged on the couches.

“We’re playing truth or dare,” Haechan chanted, making her sit next to him. “You can’t miss it.”

“Truth or dare? How old are we? Fifteen?” She asked, looking around at the others, hoping somebody was going to back her up.

“That’s why I never wanted to bring you along,” Jaemin booed, “because you’re boring.”

She wanted to talk back, but the hums of agreement of his friends made her shut her mouth and squeeze more in her place.

“We’re starting from the youngest,” Haechan said.

“Man, why always from me?” Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, receiving a look from his friend. “Fine, truth.”

So they started playing, too many dumb dares and too spicy truths for her liking, but she tried to be likeable and don’t be a buzzkill.

“Truth,” she chose for the first round, fearing the question, already knowing it was going to be something embarrassing or something she couldn’t answer because it wasn’t like she had many adventures.

“Where was the wildest place you ever had sex?” Haechan asked, making her face heat up immediately.

“Dude, that’s disgusting, she’s my sister,” Jaemin whined, turning around and fake-gagging.

But she was standing still, wanting to die under the interrogating gazes of the others. “I… I only did it in a bed,” she confessed as her eyes skimmed all over the room to avoid the mocking smirks on the others’ faces.

“Wow, yeah, should’ve expected it from you,” he mocked, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

She bit her lip, nervously playing with the hem of her dress, until her eyes met Jeno’s. He was staring at her but she couldn’t decipher what he was hiding under his gaze or if his lips were turned in a genuine smile or a mocking one. But it didn’t matter… well, it didn’t until she had the brilliant idea of picking dare.

“Guess what, we’re hoping you can spice up your life in one night,” Haechan joked. “You have to play seven minutes in heaven with Jeno,” he said, turning around and winking at his friends.

She expected Jeno to gag or complain about the pairing, but he didn’t. He looked at her, stood up and then reached his hand for her to grab. She hesitated, looking over at Jaemin for approval, but she gagged instead when she saw a girl all over him.

“Come on,” Jeno urged her, making her drift her gaze from her brother. “I’ve got a brand-new closet to try.”

The walk to his bedroom was silent as she felt panic run in her veins.

“You know that it doesn’t have to be sex, right? You can also just talk while playing seven minutes in heaven,” she mumbled when he opened the bedroom and started walking to the closet. “Or we could do nothing, that’s also valid, you –”

“Will you shut up for a second?” He asked, turning around, stopping in front of her, pushing her inside before closing the doors behind them. “Great, so much better for my ears,” he huffed. “And, to answer your annoying questions, no, there’s no fun in that.”

“We can’t do that in seven minutes,” she muttered. “Also you said you didn’t like me like that, you said that just before, you-” When he shushed her with a kiss she felt her knees buckle and her heart race and it felt like a fever dream.

“That’s something that shouldn’t happen in this game, you know? No kissing allowed.”

“No kisses but sex yes?”

He chuckled, making her walk back, sitting her on a small white desk next to the wall, dress lifting up, barely covering half of her thighs. “Weird, isn’t it?”

She hummed, breath shaking when his cold hands ran on her naked thigh. “Wait, I’ve never done this.”

“I thought you said you did it in a bed?”

“I – I did but it was ages ago and it was…” she stopped, embarrassed, “it was bad.”

“Oh, yeah, not surprised,” he replied. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered when his fingers grazed her panties.

“I think your body trusts me,” he whispered against her neck when he moved the panties to the side and felt how wet she was. “Is this from before? Did seeing me half-naked got you like this?”

“N-no, why would it, mmh,” she stopped when his fingers started circling on her clit. “We shouldn’t – we shouldn’t –”

“Do this?” He asked, smirking and pushing a finger inside her, making her roll her head back against the wall. “I will make you come if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not your ex-boyfriend.”

“Jeno –”

“Shh,” he shushed her, lips barely brushing against hers, “you don’t have to hold it back,” he whispered, starting to move his fingers inside her wet pussy. “I know you want this so badly. You’ve been dreaming about my fingers for so long,” he cooed, smirking when she lowered her head in embarrassment. “It’s alright, baby. A lot of people would want these fingers buried inside of them… and you are the lucky one tonight.”

“You won’t tell Jaemin, right?”

He snickered, “what happens here is a secret, honey. Just relax, stop being so serious, that’s why nobody can’t stand you. You think too much.”

She was about to open her mouth again and talk back but when his two fingers curled inside of her and hit the spot that made her tremble, she could only try to hold in the whimpers and let her head fall against his shoulder.

“There,” he hummed, “so much better.”

“Mhh,” she mumbled, her hand reached for his other arm and squeezed tight, trying to hold onto something, “feels good.”

“I know, baby, I know. He didn’t give it to you like this, right?” He teased, moving his hand to reach for her hair and force her head up so he could look at her face, eyelashes fluttering and lips parted to let out low moans. “What about this?” He asked, adding a third finger and starting to move his thumb on her clit, eliciting a choked sob to roll out of her mouth and to open her eyes fully. “You like this?” He asked, but he knew the answer, she was dripping over his hand and her hips were rolling against his thumb searching for more friction.

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lips, nails digging into his arm when he started to move faster into her, making her try to close her legs, embarrassed by the lewd sounds of her wetness, but Jeno only smirked and forced her legs parted.

“No, pretty,” he whispered, “want to see you.”

“I think I… I’m close,” she confessed, feeling her body burn up and a new weird sensation build up in her stomach.

“You think?” He asked, tapping her cheek so she would open her eyes. “Oh… he never made you come?”

She nodded, diverting her gaze again, feeling the sensation intensify with every thrust of his fingers. “Mhh, it’s too much, feels – feels too good,” she whimpered, hips grinding against him, and lower lip bleeding for how hard she was biting on it. But Jeno couldn’t care, he knew she could take it, she simply wasn’t used to it, but he was going to make her get used to it. This was just a preview of everything he could give to her, a small window on the world he could show her.

“Come,” he ordered, “I don’t think we have much time. And you don’t want Haechan to hear you moan like a whimpering mess, right?”

She shook her head before throwing it back, feeling a new sensation rush over her, her stomach tightened and her toes curled in her shoes while her hips bucked up against him.

“No more, no more,” she whimpered, trying to push him away.

“Shh, it’s alright, baby, it’s alright,” he shushed her, thumb grazing her cheek. She blinked, trying to shake the dizziness out of her brain, eyes falling on his lips, wishing she could taste them again because the kiss of before was so unexpected that her brain didn’t even have time to register it.

And Jeno knew it, but he needed her to crawl back to him, he couldn’t give her everything just yet. He needed time, precious time, filled with tests and games that she needed to pass and then maybe she would’ve gotten to him. He couldn’t even care about that stupid bet anymore, if the time was ticking and he needed to get with her in two months, he wanted to have her in the palm of his hands and play with her like a puppet.

“I told you I could make you feel good like nobody else ever did,” he said, winking, pulling away, leaving her sitting on the desk, slowly realizing what just happened. “Like nobody else ever will,” he whispered, turning around, waiting for Haechan to call them down again.

She shouldn’t have felt special. She shouldn’t have felt the butterflies fly in her stomach just because Jeno touched her for a stupid game. Yet, she did. Jeno was the only thing that filled her thoughts for the passing weeks. When she was trying to work. When she watched a movie. And when her hands shily moved on her body, desperately trying to replicate the feeling his fingers made her feel.

But nothing came close to him. She needed him, every day a little bit more than the day before. But the more she craved him, the more he seemed ephemeral. She couldn’t reach him, she didn’t have his number, and she never dared to sneak into her brother’s phone to steal it. She already looked pathetic in his eyes, so she needed to win him in another way. She needed to appear charming in his eyes and make him fall for her for real. But she didn’t know what he liked, or well, the only thing she knew he liked for sure wasn’t going to make him fall for her. But it was something. And something was better than nothing.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll wait here.” As soon as those words slipped out of Jeno’s mouth and Jaemin closed the main door behind him, she took the last steps on the stairs to reach him, running to the couch, waiting for him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked when, coming back to his seat, he saw her sit there.

“Because it’s my home?” She replied, playing dumb. “I thought both of you left.”

“But I’m right here, so…”

“Wanna watch a movie with me?” She asked, ignoring the way he was, not so subtly, trying to make her leave.

He snorted, “why would I want to watch a movie with you?”

“Because I’m bored.”

“You are bored, not me,” he huffed, sitting down. “Also, Jaemin will be back soon, we don’t have time for a movie.”

She shifted, sitting on her knees and placing her hands on his shoulder, “Then can we do something else?”

He looked at her up and down, trying to study her expression, “Like?”

“Promise you won’t tell anybody?”

“What are you on?”

“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night,” she started and Jeno stopped her immediately. “Exactly, so why are you bringing it up?”

“Let me finish, please,” she begged, and Jeno nodded, curios to know where she wanted to go. “It was… good. I mean, you are good so, I was thinking that maybe we could…”

“You want to be my sex buddy?” He finished for her, a mocking smile on his face.

“I want you to teach me,” she confessed, feeling shame take over.

Jeno raised a brow, tilting his head, “you want sex lessons from me?”

She nodded, lip trapped in her teeth.

“What makes you think I want to spend time with you? Especially like that.”

She stammered, not knowing what to answer and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine, since you want my attention so bad, let’s try this,” he said, turning around, face so much closer to hers now. “You have to prove to me that it won’t be a total loss of time.”

“H-how?”

He smirked, moving a strand of hair out of her face, “I gave you something the other week, didn’t I?” She hummed. “Give it back to me.”

“I told you I don’t know how to do it, it’s not fair.”

“Alright, consider this the first trial lesson. If you’re not a total failure, which I doubt, I’ll give you what you want.”

Her eyes moved around the room, suddenly realizing how dumb everything was. That was a bad idea. That was the lowest point she could reach just to have him somehow.

“You know what, I… I think I don’t need those lessons,” she said, jumping off the couch but she had no time to walk around it that Jeno was already in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“I know you don’t really want these lessons,” he said, pushing her back against the couch. “All you want is my attention, isn’t it? You got a taste,” he whispered, lips almost touching hers, making her lean closer, only making him smirk, “and you can’t get enough.”

She wanted to deny it but there was no point anyway. It was written all over her face. It was in the way her thighs were squeezed together. It was in the way she had never worn clothes this revealing before around him.

“Am I right?” He asked again because he wanted to hear those words slip out of her mouth, he wanted her to admit how obsessed she was with him.

“Yes, I can’t get enough.”

He smirked before moving his hand down on her neck, thumb caressing her jaw, “So… do you want to have a bigger taste?”

She nodded and then dropped to her knees when he pushed her down. Hesitant, shaky hands moved to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans and underwear down, exposing his already half-hard cock.

“Can you get me hard?” He asked, already knowing that it was a matter of seconds with the way she was looking up at him.

No words slipped out of her mouth, she only nodded and then started pumping his dick, but his stern gaze made her lower her face.

“God, I really have to teach you,” he complained, rolling his head back and sighing loudly. “Open your mouth, your hands are useless.”

“Good,” he moaned when she parted her lips and stuck her tongue out. “See, you know how to do it, you just don’t want me to think you do.”

She was about to retort when he pushed almost all the way down, making her gag around him. But the discomfort didn’t last long, it felt unexpectedly good. She liked the sensation of his length on her tongue, or how she could feel the slight throbs when she sucked harder. But what she liked the most was the way Jeno’s face was contorted in pleasure and how deep moans came out of his lips.

“Don’t give me those – fuck – innocent eyes. Where did you learn, uh? With porn – shit – or reading?” He asked when she opened her eyes and met his, making him lose his mind.

“No, don’t answer, I don’t care where you learned. I just – fuck – need you to keep doing that. Keep sucking,” he ordered, making a makeshift ponytail with her hair and guiding her on his length. “Can you take all of it?”

Her eyes snapped up, looking at him, silently telling him that she couldn’t.

“Oh, you can’t?” He snickered. “But I’m here to teach you. That’s what you wanted, right? For me – fuck – to teach you. Then learn,” he said, pushing deeper down, making her gag around it. “Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose,” he told her, slowing down, pushing out before sliding in again. “Good girl, just like that,” he praised, and her thighs clenched together at his words, feeling wetness pool in her panties. “You are good at this,” he smirked, eyes glistening as he watched her concentrated expression and the way her cheeks hollowed around his girth and her tongue twirled around his head when she reached the tip.

“Do you exercise with Jaemin’s other friends? Uhm? Or am I the only one?” He grinned when she shook her head, still not pulling away from him. “No? The only one? The only one you get on your knees for?”

She nodded again, stopping working on him to breathe again, “o-only you,” she said, glossy eyes looking up at him, drool dripping down her chin.

“Can you be a good girl and take more for me?” He asked, wiping the drool away, and lifting her chin up.

“More?” She asked, voice trembling.

He hummed, “Can you let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours? You don’t have to do anything but keep your mouth open for me.”

“Yea-yeah, I can,” she replied, parting her lips again and giving him full access. A muffled moan rolled out of her lips as soon as his hold on her hair tightened and he started thrusting into her mouth fast.

“Fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back, “you feel good. Are you sure this is – fuck – your first time?”

She tried to nod, hands wrapping around his thighs as she started gagging more around him. “What, baby? Want to breathe?” He cooed but without stopping. “Here. Take a deep breath, just like that,” he said when he pulled out of her, making her cough to catch her breath again.

“Oh, look at you, opening your mouth again,” he said, tugging her hair and pushing into her mouth again. “I thought you were going to start – fuck – crying. But no – shit – you love this, don’t you?” He teased, staring into her watery eyes, feeling his orgasm close already.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes when he hit deeper, gagging around his length.

“It’s alright, baby,” he moaned, “I’m close. Gonna fill your pretty mouth and you – fuck – you will take it all like a good girl, uh?”

She moaned around him, closing her eyes, trying to relax more as his thrusts got faster, closing her thighs together, skin burning up in shame as she felt her panties get wetter and stick to her skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gritting his teeth and coming into her mouth. “Swallow it. Everything,” he ordered, pushing lazily into her mouth, emptying himself before pulling out. “Everything,” he repeated, grabbing her chin, and making her look up at him, watching as she swallowed all of his cum. “Good girl,” he praised her, leaning in, making her believe he was going to kiss her but instead he licked a stripe of seed that dripped on her chin and smirked at her disappointed face.

“Get up, you don’t want your brother to find you on your knees in front of my cock, right?” He said, reaching out his hand, helping her stand up after he pulled his pants back up.

“Come here,” he whispered, cleaning her chin with a napkin and fixing her messy hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?” He asked and she hummed, diverting her gaze from his, nervously playing with her fingers and squeezing her thighs together, feeling her pussy throb for how turned on she was. And Jeno knew it, but she needed to be patient. Time. He needed to take time.

“What’s with that face? You wanted the whole thing, didn’t you? You have to earn it.”

After that, other weeks of silence passed. Jeno only said hi when he passed over and nothing else. And she started to realize that she was being played, or better, that she was playing right into his fantasy, so she needed to get him out of his mind.

But it wasn’t like she had any idea of how to stop thinking about him. She had tried for more than 10 years to stop her heart from beating so fast every time she saw his face, or don’t stutter every time he addressed her. And she never succeeded. So how could she do it now? Now that she got so much more than a taste, now that she knew what his lips tasted like, now that she knew what his fingers felt like, now that she could scent his perfume every time she closed her eyes.

And, worst of it all, it felt like Jeno knew when she would start to get tired of playing this game of push and pull and always came back to her, every time giving her a bit more, and yet, a bit less.

And then one day everything changed.

“Hey! You’re soaked.” His voice rang in the late afternoon in the middle of the street. It was raining and she forgot to bring an umbrella with her, also, she couldn’t call anybody because her parents and Jaemin were out of town.

“Yeah, I can see it,” she whispered, keeping on walking, not wanting to turn around and fall on her knees more.

“Stop walking and get in, you’re gonna get sick,” he screamed, driving behind her slowly.

“As if you care,” she mumbled, trying to shield her body from the cold, cringing at the way the raindrops fell inside her clothes and wet her skin.

“I do care,” he whispered, grabbing her arm, and turning her around, chest to chest, rain wetting them both. “And now get in.”

“I don’t need you to come and save me –”

“I said, get in,” he ordered, sharp eyes looking into hers, not giving her a chance to talk back or disagree. So she lowered her head and walked to the passenger seat without saying a word.

“You can’t live without me,” he whispered when they were both in the car and started driving again in the chaos of Seoul’s streets.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she huffed, crossing her leg on top of the other and turning her body toward the window, watching as the drops ran on the glass and the lights outside appeared blurred.

“You are mad at me because I didn’t reach for you this week,” he said, tapping his fingers on the wheel, and it took a lot for her to don’t turn around and stare at them and imagine once again how they ran on her body and made her shiver. “Tell me I am wrong, come on.”

She pressed her lips in a thin line, and then brushed her hair behind, “No, you are not wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, making her turn around in surprise, eyes focusing on his face, studying his profile, wondering why he apologized. “I didn’t want to leave you hanging for so long, I’ve been busy.”

She hummed, looking in front of them this time, and squeezing in the passenger seat. Not replying because it didn’t matter anyway. He had been clear, she meant nothing to him, so what was the point of building up castles that were going to fall?

“Why are you not taking me home?” she asked when she realized he was driving in another direction.

“I know nobody’s home, don’t want to leave you alone,” he explained, coming to a stop at a streetlight, facing her and smiling… his sweet smile? The kind of smile he never, ever directed at her?

“I’m an adult, I can stay home alone,” she replied anyway. She needed to push him away, she couldn’t keep falling for his game, no matter how sweet he appeared to be. It probably was fake, just so he could brag with Jaemin about how much of a gentleman he was and didn’t let his little sister all alone in the middle of a storm.

“You wanted my company so badly the other day, why is it different now?” He grinned, before moving his hand on the shift to start the car again and sprint toward his place.

“We won’t fuck tonight.”

“Never said we had to,” he replied.

“Then why do you want me at your place?”

He shrugged, pulling into his driveway. “Are you sure you’re the only one that can’t live without the other?”

She stood there, frozen on the spot, brain struggling to register his words and to comprehend if what she understood was what he meant. He liked her too? He wanted to spend time with her?

“Wait,” she said, opening the door and running outside. Trying to don’t get wetter under the rain, reaching him under the porch while he struggled with the keys to open the do. “You find me annoying, you said you don’t want to spend time with me, you avoided me for so long, why do you do this?”

Jeno sighed, throwing his jacket somewhere and getting out of his shoes as soon as they stepped in. “Undress.”

“What! You said we weren’t going to have sex.”

“It’s to give you new clothes, dummy,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Follow me,” he said, walking to his room, a path she knew too well by now, and yet her breathe faltered just like the first time she found herself there. And it didn’t matter that nothing was going to happen, it was the thrill of being so intimate with him somehow.

“You didn’t answer,” she complained while he looked for something to give her in his closet. He turned around, a white shirt in hand, giving it to her that was now only covered with her panties and bra.

“I find you annoying but maybe I like it,” he replied. “You look interesting under the surface.”

She didn’t want to smile so big but her lips moved automatically, a dumb smile creeping on her face, eyes glistening.

“Calm, now,” he warned as soon as he saw her reaction. “This doesn’t mean we are dating, but I wouldn’t mind spending time with you. And now get dressed, before I don’t keep up with the promise of before.”

The heat of the house made them find comfort from the cold outside while they eat something while the television was turned on mostly to fill the silence between them.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” She asked while cleaning her lips from the soy sauce that dripped on her mouth.

“What?”

“Everything,” she said. “We’ve known each other for so long but… we don’t really know anything about us.”

“You don’t?” He quirked a brow, licking his lips before placing down the empty bowl. “You think Jaemin didn’t tell me about all the questions you used to ask?”

Her cheeks heated up, cursing lowly at her brother for not being able to keep a secret. “Okay, fine, but he’s not you. I don’t know it from you.”

“Maybe you should tell me something about you. I think I can read you easily but not enough to get somewhere,” he said. “And you want to get somewhere, right?”

She hummed and then took a deep breath before opening up. Talking over and over again, letting him know even the most irrelevant things about her. Letting him go deeper than anybody else, not even caring if something was embarrassing. She trusted him.

And Jeno listened, finding out that yes, she was a lot, but maybe it wasn’t so annoying. And the more he knew about her, the better.

And then he started speaking. But his words were calculated, just like the stories he was telling. He knew what he was saying, he knew what he was doing. He was giving her a piece of himself without actually giving her anything. Without letting her slip deep under his skin. Yet for her it was enough, no, for her it was everything. She had never seen him so open, had never seen his body so relaxed beside hers, no walls were diving them right there. And that, mixed with all the sweet tempting words from before, made her fall into a vortex from which she would never get out.

Jeno had trapped her in his golden cage, but she did not know it yet, and probably, she would’ve never realized that.

“Why are you so happy?” Jaemin asked his sister, staring at her with a disgusted expression on his face. She had been hopping instead of walking for days, always had a smile on her face, and strangely she wasn’t clingy, always locked in her room, only God knows doing what.

“Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be happy that your sister’s happy?” She asked back, pouting before grabbing something to eat and running upstairs again, hiding from her brother’s questions.

Jeno had kissed her.

After talking for hours, after being so close and at the same time so far away, Jeno leaned close to her and kissed her. This time for real. A slow, sweet kiss. A kiss that she had well imprinted in her mind.

But not only that. His hands had touched her skin, trembling, and full of shivers. His long, slender fingers had trailed over her thighs, and then over her hip and held her close to him. And if she closed her eyes she could still relive all those emotions, from his scent to his eyes that had never been so real and close to her before.

Also, they had slept together. She, Jaemin’s delusional sister who had fantasized so much and for so long about ending up in his arms, had slept in Jeno’s bed.

And not like the other girls he let pass in his bed before, asleep in a tangle of sheets and sweat and cum. No, they slept in fresh, clean sheets, with his arms around her waist and his breath hitting the back of her neck. And although in the morning when she had woken up, he was not there, that was enough.

Because Jeno was in the kitchen preparing breakfast and bidding her good morning with a smile on his face that tasted like something new, something genuine. Big brown eyes creasing up in half-moons and cheeks lifting up.

Though… there was a but.

‘You can’t tell anyone about this.’ He had told her as he drove her home, serious gaze facing the road, one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other caressing her thigh. ‘It’s our little secret. You know how to keep secrets, don’t you?’

And she nodded, confident that she could do it. That if she had kept her crush on him a secret for so long, she surely could keep their ... relationship a secret? Or friendship? Or friends with benefits? She had no idea, she didn’t know what bound them together, she didn’t even know if there was actually anything that tied them together. But it didn’t matter, if it wasn’t now, it would be in a few months. It was only a matter of time. Jeno wanted to get to know her, Jeno wanted her to be a part of his life as much as she wished he was a part of hers.

‘hey, it’s me. are you free this friday?’

She blinked twice, shifting her attention from her pc to the phone beside it, trying to understand why an unknown number was texting her until she opened the message and ‘– jeno’ appeared at the end.

‘how did you get my number?’

‘i have my ways 😉 anyway, for friday? i need to buy some things for my place, it’s too empty, thought you could help’

She breathed deeply, looking around only to waste time and not answer right away just to don’t look desperate. As if she didn’t already answer ‘yes’ in her mind even before she knew what they were going to do, as if she wouldn’t have always been available for him.

‘yep, fine by me. where do we meet?’ She replied after a few minutes, hands sweating and heart throbbing harder in her ribcage.

‘my place, i’ll drive.’

And that wasn’t a date, surely not a date like she always imagined but it was something. It was nice not hearing him huff annoyed at her every word, or seeing that he didn’t move away from her with a disgusted face when their hands brushed together casually. He even laughed at her unfunny jokes.

“Our parents were never home,” she said. After buying everything, he offered to buy her a milkshake in a small coffee shop at the mall, so now they were sitting at a table in front of each other. “I mean, even when they were, they never paid much attention to us.”

“That’s why I was always there,” Jeno chuckled. “Your mother couldn’t see the mess me and Nana made.”

She smiled, lifting her gaze on him, but still stirring the liquid in her glass. “I wanted to move out of there so many times, but my job barely makes me afford my car bills and the few hobbies I have. How did you do it?”

“Well, it’s not fair when your dad pays half of it, right?”

“Your parents are cool. I remember when they used to bring you and Jaem to the amusement park. I never went there.”

“Never? Not even once?” He asked, surprised.

“Nope,” she confessed, biting her lower lip, already embarrassed at what she was about to say. “I always wanted to win a bunny from the water gun game,” she confessed. “You won it to Jaemin once. I was so jealous of that plushie.”

He smiled. “Well, I might win one just for you.”

Her eyes lit up, locking into his, heart doing cart-wheels in her chest. “You would?”

He hummed, hand under his chin, rubbing it lightly, “Why not? Next Saturday? How’s that sound?”

“It sounds amazing,” she squealed. “I love you so much.”

He smiled, looking at her, feeling a bit of warmth spread in his chest. Maybe she was nice. Maybe betting on her wasn’t the right way to start this.

When Saturday night arrived, she was vibrating with excitement. Wearing a red top, a leather black jacket and black shorts, she grabbed her small bag and rushed outside, swiftly warning her parents and Jaemin that she was going out with her friend and she wasn’t sure she was coming back. Receiving no answer.

But she didn’t care, she couldn’t care if at home nobody paid her attention. She had a date with Lee Jeno. Jeno was taking her to an amusement park for the first time and he would’ve even tried to win her a big, soft bunny she desired so much. So not even the bus ride – that she usually hated – to his place bothered her at all.

“Hi,” she greeted shily when she walked into the driveway and saw him leaning against his car. Black jeans wrapping around his legs, black shirt covering his chest and red jacket shielding him from the light breeze of the night.

“Hi, bunny. We’re matching,” he pointed out, dragging his eyes on her body and then smiling when their eyes met.

“Yeah, we didn’t even plan it,” she replied, a shy smile widening her lips as she opened the car door and stepped inside.

The car ride felt different from the others. The atmosphere was light while music played on the radio and they hummed along. There were no side-eyeing or annoyed sighs coming out of his lips like it used to happen when he was forced to bring her along because they couldn’t leave Jaemin’s sister alone. Now, Jeno glimpsed at her, diverting his attention from the street, with his lips curling in a warm smile.

And even the whole date at the amusement park was different from all the other times they hung out together.

It was like being around a different Jeno. He was carefree, laughing at her bad puns. He was kind, always paying for the rides tickets, drinks and food or wrapping a hand around her shoulders when they tried scarier attractions and she was afraid. And he looked beautiful, more than usual. There was something magnetic in the way his black hair framed his face, and his lips curled in soft smiles, making his eyes crinkle up too. He radiated a new sense of safeness. And she knew for sure that she was falling deeper.

“Now that we tried everything there’s only one thing missing,” Jeno said, dragging her toward the biggest attraction.

“The Ferris wheel?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him, fighting back the urge to intertwine their hands together. Jeno had been rather touchy the whole night, but she didn’t want to cross lines and ruin the amazing night they had.

“Yeah, are you scared?” He asked, waiting in line. “You have me by your side,” he said and then leaned in, whispering next to her ear, “and when you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about.”

She hummed, torturing her lower lip and shifting closer to him, and, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and she had no idea how her knees didn’t fail her and make her fall to the ground. She didn’t even know how she didn’t pass out for the whole queue since his fingers kept caressing her skin.

“We should be able to see the whole city when we get up there,” Jeno commented, looking around waiting for the wheel to start moving now that they were inside of a cabin, sitting next to each other.

“Yeah, I guess,” she hummed, legs buckling in nervousness, and squeezing in her arms to avoid attaching to him like a koala on a tree.

Jeno picked it up quickly and turned to her with a furrow. “Are you afraid of heights for real?”

“M-me?” She giggled awkwardly. “No, haha.”

“You are shaking like a leaf,” he pointed out, hand resting on her thigh to stop – at least – one of her legs from shaking.

“I’m fine,” she replied, taking a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the way the ride was moving and how – in fact – Seoul was shining beneath them. “What was that?” She asked, panicking when they felt a jolt and the cabin stopped at the higher spot.

“I think it stopped,” Jeno replied. “A planned stop… I guess.”

“Planned? Or maybe the wheel broke, and we will fall, no, no, we will crash on the ground and you know there are no chances of surviving and this will be how we die? What will we tell my family, they don’t know about us, they think –”

He kissed her, hands cupping her cheeks and pushing her close, air cutting short in her lungs not from fear but the chills that he was making run down her spine. “It’s alright,” he whispered, slightly pulling away. “I told you, you have me.”

She looked at him not totally convinced because if the cabin fell, having him by her side wasn’t going to save her. Surely, it would’ve made her death sweeter, oddly, and tragically romantic but it was still death.

“I’m sure it’s just to show the view,” he explained, kissing her again, and again, and then his lips moved down, kissing away the chills on her exposed neck. “But since you don’t like the view…” he whispered, cupping her right boob, squeezing just enough to make her roll her head back. “I can give you something to keep you distracted. What do you think?”

“Yeah,” she moaned, “I’d like that.” She unconsciously parted her legs, not a single cross about being in public crossing her mind.

“Great,” he smiled, biting the skin of her collarbone, “feared you were going to turn down the offer.” His hands slipped down, cupping her mound and he grinned when her hips started grinding against his palm. “Oh, oh, keep doing it, keep grinding on me. It feels good, doesn’t it? The seam of the jeans pressed against your clit by my hand makes you go crazy, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, opening her eyes to look into his.

“You know, I thought you should’ve worn a skirt for practical reasons but this – shit,” he whispered when her moans got lower and deeper, “this is even better.”

“I need you,” she whimpered, hands moving to try to touch him.

“I know you do,” he cooed, “you’ve tried so hard to hold back all this time, the whole night trying to keep your hands to yourself because you just can’t help yourself, can you? Want to feel me,” he said, pressing harder against her covered pussy as she kept grinding against him, “no, no you need to feel me.”

“Yes, please,” she whimpered, leaning closer to him, making their lips meet again in small kisses.

“Can you do something for me?” She stopped moving for a second, confused by his request, but nodded. “Come in your panties like this,” he started explaining, tapping her hips to make her start moving again, “and then I’ll give you what you want.”

And she did, even if it felt humiliating to come like that, grinding against his palm as if she was desperate, making a mess in her already drenched panties and barely holding back the moans. But it was all worth it when he smiled against her lips and whispered, “good girl, you are my good girl. Learning so fast, aren’t you? Making me so proud of you.”

“Come here,” Jeno said, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock. “Take your shorts and panties off.”

“He-here?” She mumbled, panic running behind her open eyes. The cabin next to theirs couldn’t see them, the black windows shielding each crib hid them well, but it was such an exposed place anyway.

“You heard me. Want to make you try something new. Come on, take them off and sit on my lap,” he ordered and she followed his instruction, trying to hide the stained black panties in her shorts as if he couldn’t feel the mess of her cunt as soon as she sat on his lap.

“You’re going to ride me, but I won’t get inside you.” Her face dropped, a bit because she couldn’t get how and because she just wanted to get there and finally have him, completely. But Jeno wanted to take it slow, he wanted to make her dance in the palm of his hand more, twirling around, following every single one of his words so well that he fell more and more every day.

“Spit on your hand,” he ordered. “Like that, and now wrap it around my cock. You want it to slide perfectly between your lips, right?” Not that it was needed since her wetness was already making his cock slip against her so easily, but he loved seeing how much she obeyed him with no hesitation. He loved seeing that she would’ve done anything for him.

She nodded, doing as he told, eyes glistening because he was already so hard and it was all because of her, for her.

“Don’t,” he stopped her when he could feel her trying to tease his cockhead against her entrance, “no fucking, remember?”

“But why?” She huffed, pouting.

“I want to save it for a special occasion for my special girl,” he replied before placing his hands on her naked waist and guiding her hips on top of him. “Just grind on me, remember before? Like you did with my hand?” She nodded, hand wrapping around his neck and forehead falling against his. “Do it with my cock, just like that,” he praised, kissing her gently. “Feel how good it is? It’s big isn’t it?”

“Yeah, so big.”

“Imagine it inside of you, stretching so much more than my fingers. Remember my fingers? How you dripped all over them and came so easily?” She hummed, hips bucking in shame and legs shaking at the idea of feeling him inside. “No, it’s alright. I know you remember them. I bet you spend your nights using yours, imagining it was me. Your little fingers – fuck – making their way into your dripping cunt, fucking yourself hard and yet…” he moaned, throwing his head back, “nothing can come close to me.”

“No – no. It doesn’t – mmph – feel just as good.”

“I know. But you need time, bunny. I can’t fuck you like this, in public, on a Ferris wheel. Not for our first time. Not when I’d leave you trembling and panting even more and you would have no strength to stand on your knees.”

She trembled in anticipation, pressing further down, making him groan.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he said. “Need to feel you more. Lift your hips more.”

“Li-like this?” She asked, whining when she had to pull away from him to give him space to grab his cock and start to rub it up and down her wet pussy. “Oh, this is, mmh, this is weird,” she mumbled, voice breaking a bit more every time that his tip pressed over her opening but never pushed in.

“But it feels good, right? We need to come fast; it will start moving soon again, remember? You don’t want the operator to find you like this, right?”

“No, no, I – that’s humiliating.”

“I know, baby. I would never make someone humiliate you. So I need you to stay like this, don’t try to slide down on me and let me rub my cock against your pretty pussy, okay?”

“Ye – yes,” she moaned.

Jeno moaned, rolling his head back, when he started to rub his head faster against her dripping cunt and clit, the cabin filling with wet sounds and moans they couldn’t hold back anymore, not even caring if there was somebody next to them.

“It’s good,” she whimpered, nails digging behind him, ripping the leather protection of the seats. “I’m – I’m close,” she breathed out, voice pitched and pussy clenching around nothing when another jolt shook the wheel and it started moving again.

“Me too, bunny. Can you come with me?”

“Yes, yes, please, faster,” she moaned, throwing her head back when he started doing that. Jeno had no idea how he was fighting back the urge to just penetrate her right there and then with no warning, slipping past her warm walls and filling her up, fucking her hard until she was nothing but a mess. And that thought made him grit his teeth and kiss her, cum spilling all over her cunt, triggering her orgasm too at the sensation of the warm liquid making a mess on her. She had never done that with her ex-boyfriend. And this orgasm was stronger than the rest, it left her shaking, whimpering, and panting in shame, in pleasure, in whatever drug Jeno was making her take every day that passed. It was becoming more and more of an addiction, yet, she didn’t seem to get enough.

“Fuck,” he moaned, laughing lowly, trying to catch his breath. “That was intense,” he said, smiling at her, “grab your clothes and put them on if you don’t want the whole park to see you like this, though,” he teased, handing her the discarded panties and shorts. “It would be a beautiful view,” he said, watching as she tried to stand on her wobbly legs and get back into her clothes, “but I’m pretty jealous of it.”

And another flush of heat rushed up her body, forcing her to lower her head.

When the attraction came to a stop they barely looked decent, but they couldn’t care.

“Are – are you still trying to win the bunny for me?” she asked, head lowered as the realization of what just happened hit her, and it was clear as the sky how experienced and used to this he was by how he was walking as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just come all of her pussy and then made her push her clothes back on, walking around in that mess. And the worst of it all was that she liked it, she liked that he left a mark on her somehow, that something of him was still on her skin.

Jeno chuckled, almost as if he knew exactly what was running in her mind, finding it appealing how she would let go for a second just to go back to her usual serious and shy self in the blink of an eye. “We came here for that, right?”

He had promised her. And he kept his promises. Just like he kept his bets. But the more he looked at her, the more time he spent with her, the more he couldn’t see a clear line between the bet and reality. He knew he liked the thrill, he knew he liked the desperation, but he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like her.

Because when they reached the stuffed toys booth, it didn’t bother him that he had to pay to try to hit the target to win her that toy. He didn’t even find her supportive cheers annoying. He didn’t even mind that she kissed him as soon as – with a clear shot – he hit the target and made it fall after ten seconds of the game, winning her that so-awaited white bunny with big eyes and pink ears.

“You’re so good at this,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands and jumping on the spot, waiting for the operator to hand him the toy.

“I had the greatest support ever,” he smiled, handing her the plushie, smiling as she brought it close to her chest and hugged it tightly. A dream of a child coming reality after so many years.

“Do you like it?” He asked even if he knew the answer.

“I love it,” she replied. “Thank you for winning it for me and thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered.

“No worries, I had fun,” he replied, reaching for her hand. “Should we head home? My place? How’s that sound?”

“Amazing,” she replied, smiling from ear to ear, intertwining their hands, and walking to the car.

She was still smiling, hiding her face behind the plushie for happiness and shame as she felt his cum drip slowly out of her.

And Jeno was smiling too, thinking that if she finally had gotten his bunny, he had gotten his, too.

“He’s your bunny,” he whispered close to her, “but you are mine.”

“Your fridge is always empty,” she huffed, closing the grey door and huffing at her boyfriend that was sitting on a chair, scrolling through his phone. “How do you survive like this? How do you survive without me doing everything for you?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and glaring at him.

Jeno chuckled, placing the phone down and standing up, reaching her, wrapping his arms around her. “I know, bunny. I’m sorry. I promise next time I’ll make you find the fridge full.”

She rolled her eyes, and pushed him away, “you know it’s a lie. You say it every time and then we would always starve if it was for you.”

“Oh, come here,” he pouted, grabbing her wrist and pulling her against his chest again. “That’s better,” he smiled, snuggling their noses together, making her laugh. “See, you can’t be mad at me.”

“No, I can’t.”

She really couldn’t. Especially now that they were dating for almost a month. Even if she knew so many flaws he had, she grew to love them all. She couldn’t even hate how it had to be a secret because she still had him and that was all that mattered. Actually, she enjoyed that it was a secret.

After a few weeks of sneaking around with Jeno going to her place to see his brother and having to sneak in her room or in the bathroom for a few kisses and heated make-out sessions, this was so much better. She spent most of the time at his place, telling her family she was at her friend’s house or at the library, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. And Jeno never made Jaemin come over when his sister was at home. So everything was working out smoothly.

This was great. It was the illusion of living together, but she hoped that soon it would’ve turned into something real. Their story was getting rather serious, in a way she never expected.

She brought some of her things to his place so she had no problems when she stayed over. They did many things together like grocery or buying things when something broke. Jeno always found time to have at least a Saturday or Sunday evening for them to go out to restaurants, and when he couldn’t, they usually went to other types of dates in the afternoon. They even bought a matching bracelet – that Jaemin didn’t notice because he paid her even less attention now.

“You’re not picking a movie, anymore,” Jeno said, chuckling, stealing the remote from her hands and making her whine.

“Oh, please,” she huffed, “for one bad movie.”

“One is enough,” he replied, leaving a peck on her forehead, making her squirm and snuggle close to him on the couch.

But even after he picked one, they didn’t pay the movie much attention because they were too busy kissing each other. She sat on his lap, fingers in his hair while his hands cupped her ass and pushed her closer to his body. And this happened almost every time, they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other, but they never did more than that. Jeno wanted to wait for a special occasion.

And that occasion arrived. One night, Jeno brought her to a restaurant out of town; a fancy place she had never been to before.

“You picked such a beautiful place,” she said while they waited for the second course, and she looked around still amazed. That wasn’t the kind of place she used to go, and they never even went together to a similar restaurant. Experimental cuisine, beautiful, elegant design, and classical music playing in the background.

“I’d do this and more for you,” he replied, caressing her hand on the table. “And, talking about doing things together. My parents have a house out of town and they don’t use it, thought we could go there together.”

“You mean just us or with your group of friends?”

“Just us. So we can spend some time alone, no need to worry about your brother, about anything.”

She hummed, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great, you can come up with a lie, right?”

“Of course, I can,” she replied. “But, can I ask why Jaemin doesn’t have to know about us?”

“You know him, he would ever let me close to you,” he replied, shrugging.

“But you’re his dearest friend. You are like a brother to him. I think he trusts you.”

“It’s not about trust,” he said. “It’s weird. And yeah... he knows too much about me to don’t want me near you.”

“Like? Are you trying to scare me away on our date?”

“No, no,” he stopped her right away. “But I’ve been a player most of my life, and as much as he can't stand you he wouldn’t want me to break your heart.”

“So... as long as he doesn’t know you can break it?”

“As long as he doesn’t know I can love you without him reminding me of my past,” he explained. “Hey, I love you. More than I ever loved anybody else, so can you please don’t let my past define me?”

She gulped, looking into his eyes and finding the truth. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just a little paranoid because... because nobody ever went this far with me.”

“I know,” he replied, smiling, “that’s why I wanted to take it slow, that’s why I don’t want to rush us.”

“Can we go back to your place?” She asked once they were in the car, the rest of the night proceeded smoothly as their conversation never drifted to her family again and they left the past right where it was. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I wasn’t planning on making you go home anyway,” he said, smirking. “I have a small surprise at home.”

“A surprise? Is that another bunny?”

“Better.”

But when they arrived home there was nothing, not physical, at least, and she looked at him with a furrow. “There’s nothing here.”

“Mhh, it’s something you had next to you all night,” he sang, walking close to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and moving her hair to the side, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck.

She chuckled, “is it you?”

He hummed, making her twirl in his hold. “Do you want me, bunny?”

“Don’t I have you already?”

“Yeah, but I think you still want more, don’t you?” He asked lifting her up in his arms, waiting for her to wrap her legs around his waist and start to walk upstairs. “I can’t take your disappointed face every time we don’t go all the way.”

“You make me sound desperate,” she chuckled, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“Because you are,” he replied, opening his bedroom door and laying her on the bed. And he was right because she didn’t waste time kissing him and moving her hands on his body to free him of his clothes.

“Gonna make you feel good,” he whispered once they were naked, lips closing around her nipple, sucking and twisting, making her push her body closer to his. “So good, bunny. Like nobody else ever made you feel.” His mouth moved down, tracing kisses all over her abdomen and then over her mound before lapping at her clit, making her whimper and squirm under his kisses and licks.

“No, shh, don’t move,” he whispered, pulling away from her slit. “Let me take care of you, bunny. I know he never did. But I’m not him, I’m not like anybody else.” His lips started moving on her again, sucking on her clit hard and then teasing her entrance, tasting her, feeling lightweight as his hands kept her legs spread open, fingers digging in the soft flesh of her thighs.

“Uh,” she cried, head thrown back, eyes squeezed closed and lips gasping for air. “It’s – it’s so good.”

He smirked against her skin, chin getting wetter with the slick that was streaming out of her as his tongue and lips moved faster on her, bringing her to the climax sooner than she wanted.

But even if she loved the feeling of his lips, she needed more.

“Jeno,” she mewled when he pulled away, licking his lips and cleaning his chin with the back of his hand. “Ne-need you,” she stuttered, looking into his eyes, filled with lust and need. “Please, need to feel you.”

Jeno kissed her, one hand at the side of her head keeping his body up and the other stroking his hard, thick cock.

“Gonna make you mine,” he groaned, aligning his length at her entrance and pushing into her, nails digging into his back as the never felt before stretch cut her breath.

“Fuck,” she cried, searching for his lips, chest panting as she tried to calm down, “you’re... you’re too big.”

“No, bunny,” he reassured, caressing her cheek, hips backing away before sinking in again, “you can take me. You can take everything I give to you.”

She nodded, legs falling limper as her body trembled in his hold.

“So good for me, bunny,” he praised, the veins of his neck popping out as he tried to hold in the moans.

“Want to – want to hear you,” she mumbled, cupping his face. “Please, want to know I’m – fuck – making you feel – aah – good.”

And Jeno let go, groans and low moans rolling out of his parted lips as he started thrusting into her faster, making her get even wetter as she felt him reach deeper inside of her.

“You make me feel so good, baby,” he hummed, throwing his head back when her walls clenched harder around him and he knew it was just a matter of minutes. He couldn’t hold it anymore. They were made for each other. Fitting so perfectly that he felt good like never before. Nobody could come close to this, to her.

“Fa-faster,” she barely breathed out, eyes half-lidded and lungs gasping for air.

“Faster?” He smirked, tilting his head, staring at her face, getting high in the way she was whimpering so nicely every time he pushed back and forth. “Can you take me, bunny?”

“Yes,” she screamed. “Need – need to feel you more.” She had no idea how it could’ve been possible, or exactly what more did she need from him. But she needed him. She needed him to get under her, and she needed to get under him. Tattooing each other under their skins.

And Jeno gave it to her. Going faster, pulling her legs closer to him, leaning down to cage her completely making her feel small and safe. He was always going to give her everything and more. Everything that would’ve been enough to never make her want to leave. Because she was his, and he was hers. And they belonged together.

“Je-Jeno,” she cried, feeling her stomach tighten up, silently warning him that she was close.

“I’m close, too,” he said through gritted teeth. “Your pussy’s so good, fuck. You are too good. Come for me, bunny. Come with me.”

And her body obeyed, squirming under him, hips bucking while her eyes rolled into the back of her head and another orgasm washed over.

“Yes, just like that,” Jeno groaned, watching her face contort and shooting his cum into her, hips slamming messily against her ass while his hand gripped her waist harder to keep her in place.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out of her and rolling at her side. “So, was it worth the wait?”

She smiled, turning to him. “You are always worth the wait.”

Jeno was... caring. Too apprehensive at times. Not that she minded all the attention but she sometimes wondered if he did too much. He insisted on picking her up when she came out of work. He always dropped her by when she went out with her friends alone. He drove her everywhere, saying that it was safer because ‘you may never know who you meet on the metro or the bus.’

But the weird thing was that one minute he was all over her, never taking his eyes off of her even for a split second, and then he was nowhere to be found, or he even got mad at her, reminding her to don’t be too touchy because nobody had to know.

Just like right now. He invited her to Haechan’s party but didn’t spare her a single glance all night but she had no intention of rotting on a sofa seat just to get back home after wasting an entire evening.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jeno snapped, glaring at Haechan pushing him off of her.

“Hey, man,” the brown-haired replied with a smug smirk on his face, “we were dancing. Had no idea you cared about her so much?” He grinned.

“Take that grin out of your face if you don’t want me to wipe it off with a punch,” he warned, glaring at him before grabbing her wrist and dragging her out of the living room, walking upstairs not even caring that she was hardly following his steps.

“Jeno wait!”

“Shut up!” He screamed, pushing her inside an empty room and locking it behind them with the key, stuffing it inside his pocket. “What the fuck were you thinking, uh?”

“W-what?” She asked, chest panting for running and because she didn’t expect him to react like that.

“Stop with that fucking act of the innocent girl,” he barked, cupping her cheek with a hand and pushing her close to the nearest wall, pressing her against it with his body. “I was right when I said you would’ve crawled to every single friend of your brother. You’re such a slut.”

“What? Don’t call me that! You know it’s not true,” she retorted, voice shaking with fear. She had never seen him like this and she couldn’t even get why he was so mad. She and Haechan were only dancing, and nobody could know that they were dating, so it wasn’t like she had a choice.

“Oh, it’s not true?” He cooed, squeezing her face tighter. “Then why were you grinding on him?"

“I - I wasn’t,” she whispered as tears started flowing on her face.

“Oh, nice,” he sighed, shaking his head, and letting go of her face, placing his hand beside her head against the wall, “now you’re going to cry. You were all over another man and you cry.”

“You know it’s only you. I’d never leave you,” she replied, lips quivering as she looked into his eyes and found them filled with darkness. “It was… it was the heat of the moment, he asked me to dance and you weren’t there and you said to keep our distances.”

“Yeah, but I think you need a reminder of who you belong to,” he said, flipping her over. "Need to put into your little dumb brain that I’m the only one.”

She nodded, shivering when his hands slipped under the dress, and she shouldn’t have felt so turned on because he was finally paying her attention, because he was showing he wanted her and nobody could come close to her. But she was. It was fucked up, and yet, her knees were buckling already under his touch.

“Need you to remember that even when I’m not by your side you’re mine and mine only. This body,” he said, running his hands on her thighs and waist and then squeezing her boobs, making her groan, “is mine. You are mine. Say it,” he ordered.

“I’m yours, always yours.”

“That’s better,” he replied, voice still stern, and hands slipping inside her laced panties. “Oh, wet already? You want me to be mean to you, don’t you?”

“No, I – I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said, "but don’t lie to me. You’re either dripping because of him, which will make me very mad. Or...” He leaned closer, “you are a little slut that gets off to these things.”

She whimpered, feeling her knees buckle. “Don't call me like that.”

“No? You want me to call you bunny, right? Want to be my little bunny?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip when his fingers started moving on her clit.

“To be my bunny you have to be good. And right now, you’re not. Prove to me you can be my good little bunny and not some cheap slut that lets all her brother’s friends pass her around, okay?”

“Yeah, I will prove it to you,” she said, trying to turn around but Jeno grabbed her wrists and blocked them together behind her back.

“You’re not moving from here,” he ordered. “And be thankful I brought you here and not in the bathroom. Come here, on the desk,” he ordered, guiding her to walk over to the white desk at the side of the room.

“Is – is this his bedroom?” She asked, looking around, seeing it was too decorated to be a guest room.

“Yeah, is that a problem? Don’t you want to leave him a little gift of something he will never have?”

“Je – Jeno you don’t need to be jealous, I-”

“Shut up,” he groaned, ripping her panties and spreading her legs more. “You think you know him more than I do? You think I don’t know what he looks like when he wants to fuck someone?”

She rolled her head back when he slipped one finger into her. “I wouldn’t have – fuck – I wouldn’t have let him.”

Jeno snickered bitterly. “I’m not sure about it,” he replied, kissing her roughly and pushing another finger inside. “Your ass was pressing so much against his cock. Think I didn’t see it? Think I’m stupid? He was hard, wasn’t he? And you loved it,” he mocked, adding a third finger making her moan louder. “Because you love attention, you live for attention. You seek it. You crawled to me because you needed attention so how can I trust you? Tell me? How can I trust you with other men?”

“I – I would never cheat on you,” she replied, trying to steady her breath and keep up with him instead of getting lost in the way his fingers made her feel. “If I could – fuck – dance with you in public, I – I would, I would only – fuck – do it with you.”

“So you’re going to do it again just because I’m not by your side? Just because I don’t carry you around with a leash like a fucking dog?” He replied, stilling his fingers inside of her and tilting his head to the side.

“That’s not what I meant,” she replied, trying to close her legs but he stopped her in her tracks lifting a finger and pushing her hips down against the desk. “Jeno, please,” she begged. “I won’t go to parties anymore, okay? I can stay at home, I never liked them anyway.”

“And you think that’s enough?” He asked, picking up the movements inside her, making her breath shake and her nails dig in his arms.

“Then what more can I do for you?” She asked, tears flowing down her cheeks, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Disappointing him was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Don’t fucking cry,” he growled, leaning closer to her but pulling his fingers out of her. “I hate it when you cry. I hate when you do dumb things first without thinking about the consequences and then do this, play the victim.”

“I just – I don’t want to upset you or hurt you. I don’t like fighting with you.”

“Then use your brain?” He said, tapping his fingers on her mouth and pushing them down her throat. “The only time you’re not supposed to think about a thing is when I’m fucking you, got it?”

She nodded, trying to kiss him back when he pulled his fingers out. “Can you forgive me? I’m sorry.”

“Maybe, I’ll forgive you if you don’t disappoint me another time,” he said, letting go of her face. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be your good girl,” she replied, moving toward the edge of the desk to feel him more.

“Then bend over,” he ordered, waiting for her to follow his orders. “See, you can be good when you want to.”

She was about to reply but then pursed her lips together, not wanting to get him mad even more. If she liked it when he got rougher, she still didn’t want to fight or make him truly upset.

“This ass,” he said, hand slapping her ass cheek hard, making her jolt, “is mine. Got it?”

“Ye-yes.”

“This pussy,” another slap, but this time on her pussy, “is mine.”

“Yours.”

“And you,” another smack on her other ass cheek, “are mine.”

“Yours. I’m all yours,” she whimpered, feeling her skin burn.

“Now be a good girl,” he said, rubbing the skin of her ass, “and part your legs more.”

“I wanted to fuck your mouth but I need to feel you, need to fuck you hard and make you walk out of here with – fuck,” he groaned, pushing inside of her wet cunt, “make you walk out of here with shaky legs and my cum dripping out of you.”

Her nails scraped against the hard wood under her, head rolling back at the stretch of his cock.

“Yeah, you like that? That was what you wanted, shit,” he moaned, “Wanted me to pay you attention so you got on my nerves to get this. You want me to be rough with you, don’t you?” He asked. “Answer me,” he groaned, pulling her flush against his chest and leaving a light tap against her cheek.

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“But if you – fuck – want me to be rough with you, you just have to fucking ask. But noo,” he cooed, a deep laugh rolling out of his chest. “It’s better to go around and act like a slut, isn’t it?”

“N-no,” she breathed out.

He snorted. “And you know, if I only didn’t care so much about you I’d let him fuck you. I’d love to see the – fuck – the disappointed look on your face," he said, wrapping a hand around her neck and squeezing it before kissing her hard. “Because he can’t fuck you like I do.”

“I – I know," she moaned, feeling her knees shake.

“Nobody can fuck you like I do,” he whispered against her ear. “Say it,” he ordered, “say that nobody, nobody, will ever make you feel as good as I do.”

She threw her head back, ass arching against him, pleasure making her feel dizzy as she struggled to make the words come out of her mouth. “No - nobody will ever make me – mmh – nobody will make me feel as good as you.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You feel good,” she moaned, head falling forward, not really sure she could last longer. “No,” she whined when he pulled out.

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Want you to look into my eyes while I break you.”

She stumbled on her heels, hardly turning around and sitting back on the desk and in a second Jeno was inside her again, thrusting into her mercilessly, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

“You make me so fucking mad,” he groaned, kissing her roughly. “I wanted to get home and – shit – fuck you gently all night and here we are,” he said, cupping her face, “we have a party to get back to and we look like a mess all because you never know when to stop.”

“Too much," she mumbled, looking into his eyes, hips shaking.

“No, you can take it, you wanted this and you will take this. I know you’re close, you’re – fuck – squeezing me.”

“Play with your clit,” he ordered. “And come for me while you look into my eyes.”

“Y-yes,” she replied, sliding her hand between their bodies and starting to move her fingers on her clit, wanting to roll her head back but forcing herself to keep it up and stare at him, feeling the orgasm come.

“Shit, yes,” Jeno moaned. “Just like that. Good girl, my good bunny,” he praised, kissing her. "Yeah, that was what you wanted. And keep bein’ my good bunny and come,” he ordered, giving one last thrust that pushed her over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cried, locking her legs around his waist and digging the nails of the hand around his arm into his skin.

“God,” he groaned. “Mine. All mine.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, meeting his lips in a soft kiss again, “I’m all yours.”

Jeno leaned his forehead against hers as they both caught their breaths and came down from the high. “I’m all you ever wanted," he whispered. “All your life you wanted me. And now you have me, bunny. You have me right here, so don’t you dare leave me.”

She wasn’t supposed to be there, eavesdropping a conversation about her that she wasn’t supposed to hear. But when she come back from work, she opened the front door and heard Jeno and his friends talk in the kitchen, surely Jaemin wasn’t there, or there was no way they would have that conversation. But she didn’t do it on purpose and she had no idea if it was better like this or living in a lie.

‘You didn’t win the bet, technically. It was two months and you started dating her after three.’ Haechan complained.

‘Yeah, but I got to her after one week, I think I win.’ Jeno replied and even if she couldn’t see his face, she knew there was a smug smirk on his face.

‘I mean, the bet involved both fucking with her and dating her so I think he’s right.’ Jisung chimed.

‘And as I told you she fell on my feet. She was literally begging for my attention so my point was proved.’ Jeno

She felt her eyes flood with tears and ran away with the intention to confront him at home. Receiving more humiliation in front of his friends was the last thing she wanted.

‘God, I hate you, man, Fine. Here’s the money.’

Jeno scoffed. ‘I don’t want the money,’ he replied. ‘I think I found a better prize.’

“Honey,” Jeno said, opening the door of his place. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home, why’s your car in the driveway?”

“Don’t call me honey,” she said, standing in front of him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at him.

“Oh, what happened? We didn’t have a date, right?” He asked, trying to guess why she was mad. “And surely today is not your birthday.”

She took a step forward and slapped him, making him flinch and stare at her with a surprised expression.

“You are an asshole!” She screamed. “You played me for a fucking bet. You – you lied to me all these months! Five months of lies and games you played for some money. Is this all I am to you? A joke? A bar talk with your stupid friends? How much do they know about me? Did you have fun making fun of my innocence? Or was it funnier to laugh about how much I trusted you and let you do things I would’ve never done before?”

“Hey, hey,” he said, trying to reach for her but she pulled away, glaring at him, making him understand that if he dared to touch her she was going to slap him again. “You are not a joke for me. And they don’t know a single thing about you. I don’t want anybody else to know so much about you, to get so deep under your skin. Everything that we did, everything you told me, had been just between me and you.”

“I heard you,” she retorted. “I’m not dumb, I know what I heard. I heard how hard you were trying to convince them that you were right and you won! All your daddy’s money and you still need to win more by betting on me!”

“I didn’t want the money,” he explained, walking closer to her again. “Can you let me explain?”

“No, you’ve got nothing to explain. There’s nothing you can say that will,” she stopped, lowering her head and sniffling lowly, running the palm of her hand under her nose. “Nothing you can say will make you come out of this innocent,” she whispered, feeling new tears wet her face. This wasn’t supposed to end like this. She wanted him too much for this to end up so badly.

“Does it matter why I got closer to you? Do you really want a stupid bet to come between us?” He asked, trying to meet her eyes but her head was still reclined, facing the floor of his living room and her hair hid her face.

“It’s not a stupid bet. It’s me. It’s us,” she replied with her voice full of anger. “And I won’t let you get away with this. I will tell everything to Jaemin. I will tell him how his best friend, well friends, played his sister. I will tell him how you used me all this time and you will see,” she said, finding the courage to look up at him, but when she met his eyes she couldn’t find fear. Jeno was unfazed, staring at her with a faint grin on his face.

“Honey, do you hear yourself?” Jeno chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Do you really think he would believe you? His annoying, pathetic little sister who drooled over me for ages. And careful, that is what he thinks about you.”

Her mouth hung open, not expecting him to say something like that. “I didn’t drool over you,” she retorted, trying to push in the back of her mind the fact that deep down not even Jaemin cared about her. That truly she was way lonelier than she thought.

“Shh, don’t cry,” he said, walking to her, caressing her cheek now that she let down her guard, shoulders dropping and heart crumbling into pieces. “You know you do. You wanted me so badly for all this time so… what’s different now?”

“You – you, this is all a game for you. You bet on me. You think nobody wants me.”

“Did I ever say that? No. But let’s be real, you’re 21 and nobody ever looked at you the way I did. All the things I did, I did them for you,” he replied, thumb brushing on her burning wet cheek. “I made you feel good, so why would you be mad at me? I never said I loved you when we started. I never told you that when I didn’t truly believe it.”

“But you knew I… you knew! You knew I would’ve done anything for you,” she screamed, shaking harder in his hold, feeling both comfort and coldness in it. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, how he was the main reason for her pain and yet the main reason for her comfort.

“And? I knew how dedicated you are, so what’s the problem?”

“I… I… you know it’s not fair,” she whispered, looking down again, not bearing to his face. His handsome, gentle face that fooled her for so long. “You know that’s one of the worst things you could ever do.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. And I’ll tell my brother and you will see. You won’t make me change my mind.”

Jeno grabbed her waist, pulling her close to him. “You won’t tell him anything. Do you really want to humiliate yourself? What are you going to do? Tell him that you crawled to me on your knees because you needed someone to teach you about sex? You remember right why it all started? Imagine how he would feel knowing that you go around asking all his friends to fuck you.”

Her eyes drifted on his face. “I don’t go around doing that,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

“Maybe…” he replied, wanting to bring up the way she was grinding on Haechan even if they were together, but deciding to don’t more fuel to the fire. “But if I would’ve said no, you would’ve. Isn’t this better for everybody? Your brother doesn’t know, and we still have each other.”

“I don’t want to have you,” she lied, meeting his eyes, scaring herself because how could he be so impassive? How could there not be a trace of emotions? Did he care or not?

“No? Now that you finally got me, you don’t want me anymore?”

“No – not like this,” she replied, trying to stop the sobs and don’t look even more like a mess. The mess he made. “You – you are a completely different person, you – you are not who I thought you were.”

“But I am me. You loved me all these months, and trust me, that was the real me. Why don’t you love me anymore? Why would you push me away, bunny?”

“Do-don’t call me bunny,” she said, glaring at him.

“But you love it so much, don’t you? Do you still have the bunny I won for you? Remember it? I can give you so much more than that.”

“I – I need you to love me, I don’t need this. I don’t need toys. I don’t need lies. You hurt me.”

“And I’m sorry, alright? I never lied to you when it came to us. I would’ve broke us off if I truly didn’t like you.”

“Yeah but I, I’m not sure I want you anymore,” she said, slipping out of his hold and grabbing her purse and jacket from the couch. “We – we need a break.”

And Jeno watched her go, opening the door of his house and closing it behind. He didn’t cry, he didn’t run after her, he didn’t try to stop her.

He knew she was going to come back to her.

Crawling, just like she did the first time.

She was lost. Everybody around her noticed that. Weird, she thought, that for once they were paying attention to her. But she couldn’t tell the truth, she shrugged their oppressions off, pretending that it was just life, work and lack of sleep.

And that wasn’t a total lie. She had spent sleepless nights up, Jeno’s ghost haunting her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge every night. Because if during the day she could pretend and try to distract herself, at night she couldn’t.

Jeno was everywhere. He was like her shadow, walking behind her, a cold wind blowing around her, covering her with shivers. He was imprinted on her body, his fingerprints burning up on her skin, leaving scars that weren’t physical, scars she couldn’t mend or sew. Scars he left open, bleeding, and poured with salt. Scars only he could heal. And only he could make.

And she didn’t know what to do. If it was better to go back to him, let him heal her pain and hope he wasn’t going to scar her again or leave immediately. Admit to herself that certain things just weren’t meant to happen and let him go, slowly, bleeding some more, but let him go.

And it took her two weeks to make up her mind and take the most painful decision of her life.

So when she found herself at his front door she felt every second pass, slowly, prolonging that torture more.

“Coming.” She could hear his muffled voice from the other side of the door and wanted to leave, not sure that after seeing his face she would’ve carried through. But she was there, and when she took the first step back, it was already too late. “Oh, you didn’t warn you were going to pass by,” he said, surprised of seeing her there.

She hummed, “No, it was a last-minute decision. Can I come in? Or are you already busy with somebody else?”

Jeno sighed but moved to the side. “I told you, I love you. I would never move on so easily.”

She shrugged, before turning around again. “Actually it won’t take long, so you can go back to what you were doing,” she said, making Jeno furrow.

She came back, but he already suspected she didn’t come back how he wanted.

“I thought about it a lot,” she started saying, fingers playing with a loose thread of her sweater but she was forcing herself to look at him. “I thought about us a lot and I realized I can’t do this. I can’t have you, not like this, not after everything.”

Jeno blinked repeatedly, shaking his head. “You want to break up with me?” He asked to make sure that was the point she was making.

“Yes,” she replied. “It pains me a lot but… I need to put me first. I am worthy unlike all of you think.”

Jeno hummed, rubbing his chin and wetting his lip. “You are, you sure are. But… you know nobody will make you feel as good as I made you feel, right?”

She didn’t answer. She feared nobody was going to make her feel what he made her feel, but that couldn’t be possible, right? There were so many people in the world, he couldn’t be the only one for her.

“Nobody will ever know you as deeply as I know you.”

No answer again, just broken eyes looking into each other.

“Do you really want to erase all of these years?”

She furrowed at his words, chuckling bitterly, “You never paid attention to me.”

“Are you sure? Just because I was looking at you from the sidelines, silently waiting for the moment to have you? We love in such a different way you think I don’t love you. How could you be so full of yourself thinking that your way of loving is the only right one?”

“I don’t think my way of loving is the only right one I… you… you never loved me,” she whispered, feeling her heart clench because she had to repeat it to herself every night and doing it again, reminding herself that he never loved her but only played her like a puppet on a string, brought her to her knees, and made her feel worthless. It proved once again that everybody was right, that she was nothing special, nothing more but a sideshow for everybody to buy a ticket and laugh at her goofiness and futility.

“Here you go, doing this again. Do I have to get on my knees to tell you I love you?” He asked, taking a step closer to her.

“No, there’s no –”

“No, I’ll do it,” he stopped her. “Here I am, on my knees for you.”

She clenched her fists and wanted to slap him again for missing the point so many times. “You bet on me!” She replied, screaming at his face.

“That’s so irrelevant,” he replied, keeping up with her angry gaze, not even flinching.

“No, it’s not. And you’re lucky I didn’t say a thing to Jaemin –”

“Shut up,” he stopped her, standing up once again, voice harsh before it turned sweet and caring again, “I thought we were clear about not telling anything to him, right?”

“No,” she fought back. “I won’t keep my mouth shut.”

Jeno rolled his eyes and stopped her, a hand around her cheek and another around her waist. “Now you stop and listen to me,” he groaned, “alright, darling?” She hummed, tears running down her face again, and hated the way the only thing her mind could think was how much she had missed the feeling of being in his arms.

“I’d never hurt you on purpose, I love you and it doesn’t matter if it took a bet to get it. I do. And I want you to put it in your mind. Please, let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered, kissing her neck, making her shiver and push him back. She couldn’t fall, not again, not now that his games were all revealed. “Shh, shh, don’t fight it. Don’t fight me,” he rasped. “Remember how you were always all over me? What changed now?”

“You are not who I fell in love with,” she managed to say, shivering and squirming under him, feeling that the power he had over her was once again making her walls fall down.

“Just let me prove it to you, let me prove you it’s always me, the only one you love so much. Because you love me, right?” He cooed, caressing her cheek, and wiping away the black rivers of mascara on her face. “I know you still love me. I know your heart cannot beat with me out of your life.”

She didn’t answer but only hummed, shivering when his hand reached the small of her back and pulled her closer. Tired, she felt tired. And once again, he was the only one keeping her up on her feet. He was the only one that didn’t let her fall. But she wondered if it was because he truly cared, or if he needed to control her. If this sense of comfort was also fake like everything else. But her mind couldn’t tell it, not now at least, and she only hoped that when she did, it wouldn’t have been too late.

“You don’t want me to leave you. You cannot live without me. Remember?” He whispered, caressing her face gently, reaching her hair, caressing her scalp, fingers moving in circles just like she liked, in the same way that would always make her fall asleep with her head on his lap, or against his shoulder. “You told me, whispered it to me while laying on my chest, fantasizing about our future together.”

“That – that was before…” she sniffled, trying to fight it off, trying to grasp onto what was left of sanity, screaming to the small part of her that wasn’t completely devoted to him to please wake her up and make her get out of there. But there was nothing left of her that wasn’t madly, deeply, and completely in love with him, lost for him, devoted, obsessed with the feelings he brought along. Nothing of her didn’t scream Jeno anymore. She was his. Every inch of her skin. Every cell of her blood. Every thought in her mind, about him.

And he knew it. Because he truly had her imprinted in the back of his mind. He had studied her for so long, silently, without making her notice. He knew exactly what she needed and how to give it to her. He knew how neglected she was and how she needed to be valued, loved, praised, and cherished. And he was going to do it. If she let him, he was going to give her everything and more.

“But I’m still here,” he smiled, and then he kissed her as his hands moved to gently cup her cheeks and kiss her lips. “See, there still are my lips on yours,” and then he moved down, “and on your neck… right here,” he sucked. “Right here, bunny, where it makes you shiver so much under me.” And her body trembled in his hold as if it was a command, something natural starting from her brain as soon as his lips moved, like a magic spell.

“Yeah, you know nobody else will know how much you love being kissed there,” he hummed, snuggling his nose against her skin. “Or touched here,” he said while his hand moved under her sweater and brushed against the skin of her hips.

“Jeno, we – you need to stop,” she shook her head, trying to stop him once again. To stop herself from falling into the wolf trap.

“Do I? Does your body want to?”

“I don’t care what my body wants. I know this is wrong.”

“How is this wrong?” He asked, pulling his hand out of her sweater, but still keeping the other on her cheek, caressing softly. “It’s us, bunny. It will always be us.”

She swallowed hard, trying to understand if he was lying or if he was being honest, but she couldn’t get it. She had never been good at reading him and he had played her so many times she had no idea if she could trust him. But what was he gaining from this? Why was he fighting so hard to keep her when he could’ve had anybody else? Why was he still trying to keep her with him if the bet was done? Sure, that was wrong, the worst thing he could’ve ever done but it was in the past. He grew to love her. He loved her. Lee Jeno loved her. And he was doing everything to prove it to her.

“Do you want it to be only us, bunny? I need to hear you say you want me to show you how much I love you.”

“Ye – yes,” she replied. “Want it to be only us.”

And she fell. She had thrown herself out from the tenth floor of a building with no parachute and didn’t even realize it yet, and by the time she would’ve opened her eyes and realized what she had done, it would’ve been too late, too close to the ground, too close to crushing down. Her fear of the Ferris wheel would’ve been her reality.

They were once again in an amusement park, going round and round, running after fantasies, marking each other, biting off pieces, bleeding. While the Ferris Wheel kept falling but from higher, much higher than where they were before, and death, even if by his side, wouldn’t have been sweeter and tragically romantic. And while meeting her tragic faith, the only thing she could hope for was to never open her eyes, to never realize the rose-colored glasses carnival Jeno locked her into, but to pretend, and pretend… and pretend until there was nothing left to do, until her sad destiny would’ve welcomed her and lulled her with the ideal of a love story that was only in her mind.

“I love you so much,” he kept whispering next to her ear while he had her body pressed under his, hands intertwined together over her head, chest pressed against her back, hips thrusting against hers, lips kissing the blades of her shoulders, trying to go deeper under her skin because if only he could’ve, he would’ve. “I love you and I want you to never forget it.”

And all she could do was hum and moan under his expert hands that played her like a violin. “I – I missed you,” she cried out, letting go of a confession she couldn’t keep in anymore as another orgasm rushed over her body.

“I know,” he whispered, holding her closer. “Can’t get enough of me, can’t – fuck – be without me.”

“I – it’s getting too much,” she whimpered, pressing her head against the pillows of his bed. “You feel too good,” she wept, holding his hands tighter, feeling her heart burn up when he started to whisper again how much he loved her, how much he needed her.

“We fit so well, bunny,” he whispered, pulling out and turning her over, slipping into her again, holding her limp, tired body in his arms as he picked up his rhythm again. “We are made for each other,” he said, caressing her wet cheek. “So don’t ever let anything – fuck – come between us. Not the bet,” he groaned, feeling another orgasm approach them, “not your brother. Not another man. Nothing and nobody, fuck.”

She hummed, lazily blinking, eyes barely adjusting to see his face, and smiled. She smiled because that felt like heaven. She smiled because Jeno looked like an angel. She smiled because after being a loser for her entire life, there was a small patch of paradise reserved even for her. “Just us,” she whispered.

And by the time they came together she had no more strength to keep her eyes open, even less to talk, but there was nothing more to say. She had nothing more to say, not for now, at least. Her wounds were healed.

So she let go in his arms, drunk in his scent and warmth, heart beating with the hope of a better future. A hope that was fueled by a reality that was all distorted. And in her dreams, she couldn’t hear him, but he would’ve made sure to remind her of that promise every day.

Jeno turned around, eyes studying her relaxed face, fingers grazing her cheeks, moving her hair out of her beautiful face, a grin creeping on his face as he leaned down to kiss her parted lips.

“It will always be us, bunny,” he promised. “Always.”

I hope you liked it, please leave feedback and let me know with comments, reblogs or asks ♡ For more support consider donating.

Part 2: shattered glasses

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