#stray kids smut
tasteleeknow · 2 days
loved your latest chan fic! i was thinking what about the same angsty prompt but instead the reader feels like chan is only using them for sex as a stress reliever and they haven’t really been communicating even though they’re in a relationship, they’ve just been fucking and the reader finally brings it up to chan
so i just typed this out in a few minutes. sorry, i’ve got a lot of wips right now and don’t really have the time to make this a proper thing. maybe i’ll come back to it at some point. ended up being ANGST. hope someone likes anyway.
pairing: chan x gn!reader genre: suggestive themes [18+ only], angst, fluff. word count: 1k content: profanity. lots of tears. discussion about consent.
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He collapses over you, the full weight of his body knocking the breath from your lungs. It feels good, for just a moment—to have all your focus on your lungs. But then he rolls off you and as oxygen floods into your chest, the reality of your relationship floods back into your head. 
You roll over to face the wall, hiding your watery eyes from him. 
“Good?” he says, breathing heavily. 
“Good,” you answer, glad for the steadiness of your voice. 
The bed rocks as he stands and disappears into the bathroom. By the time the shower stops you’ve cried, cleaned yourself up and pulled on your favourite pyjamas. When he emerges you’ve curled up under the covers, ready to pretend to be asleep so he has no chance of noticing your puffy eyes. 
His arm wraps around you, pulling you back against his chest. “You awake?” he whispers. You suck in a shaky breath, attempting to keep a sob from escaping. “Alright?” he whispers again, his warm breath tickling your neck.
You open your mouth to say yes, everything is fine. Instead your walls crumble, chest heaving as you cry again. He pulls himself from you quickly, sitting up and leaning over you to see your face. “What is it? Baby? What’s wrong?” When you don’t answer he pulls you up to sit in his lap—his back against the headboard. You don’t wrap your arms around him, letting them fall to your sides as he rests your head against his shoulder. “Talk to me. Please,” he whispers.
Talk.. to him? Your heartache twists into a sharp rage as you pull your head from him, practically jumping off his lap. His eyes are wide as you shuffle back from him, his arm reaching out for you. You stop just out of his reach, sucking in a deep breath. “Talk… to you? You want me to talk to you?” you gasp out, voice shaky. 
He frowns, arm dropping back to his side. When he says nothing you continue. “You’re asking me to talk to you when you’ve hardly spoken a full sentence to me in weeks. You come home grumbling about how hard your day was…you—you never ask me about mine. You haven’t asked me anything. You don’t—” you swallow down a lump in your throat, desperately trying to get the words out before your sobs take over again. “You don’t care about me at all apart from getting yourself off… do you? I may as well be a fucking fleshlight.” 
He’s quiet as you catch your breath, eyes dropping from yours to his lap. You watch as he fiddles with one of his rings. Just as you’ve had enough of the silence, opening your mouth to tell him to say something, he lifts his head. Your breath hitches at the tears streaking down his cheeks. He falls forward, crawling towards you and grasping your hands in his—pressing his lips to each one, his tears wetting your skin. Then, he sits up, keeping his hold on you as he looks into your eyes. 
“You didn’t—” he sucks in a shaky breath. “You didn’t want…” he drops his head as he trails off. “I didn’t—” his sob breaks you from your stunned stillness, pulling your hands from his so you can lift his head. 
“Breathe,” you soothe. As much as he’d hurt you, seeing him cry still tore through you. You couldn’t stand it. 
“Did you not want it?” he manages to say, chin wobbling as he very clearly holds back another sob. 
“What? No, I—I didn’t mean… I wanted you. I told you I wanted you. It’s the fact that’s all you wanted from me.” 
His shoulders drop and he lifts your palm to his lips. “It’s not,” he mutters against your skin. “It’s not,” he repeats. “I need you, I need—I need you and I have nothing to offer you. Nothing but—” he cuts himself off, bringing your palm to his bare chest and pressing it to his warm skin. “When my head is worn out, when I have nothing left to give you because life has sucked everything out of me, all I have left is my body.” 
You frown. “You were… too tired to ask me about my day?” 
“I feel like I have nothing left in me. I get home and you’re here and I’ve been so…so much all day and I just want to be nothing. I just want to feel you…and be nothing,” he says, looking between your eyes like he’s desperate for you to understand. You’re not sure you do, pulling your hand from where he still presses it to his chest. 
You crawl off the bed, feeling like you need some space. You walk to the door then turn, looking back at where he sits in the middle of the bed. “I need you too,” you say, voice much steadier now. “I need you to be more than that. You come home and you’ve had a hard day but what if I have too? What if I need to talk about it and you’re… nothing.” 
“Have you? Been having hard days?” 
“Of course I have, I—” you swallow down another lump, desperate to finish this. “I’ve had plenty of hard days and having you here, fucking you, it’s better than not having you at all. But I need more. It’s…not enough.” 
He climbs off the bed, making his way over to you slowly. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice breaking a little. “Look at me? Please?” he whispers, standing directly in front of you now. You look up into his watery eyes. “I never—I never want to hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry. Please.”
“Do you want…to know about my days? Do you care?” 
“I care. I care more than anything. It’s hard…sometimes for me to get out of my own head.” His voice is soft now, steady. His hand rests at the side of your neck, thumb brushing gently against your skin. “If everything I've been working on this month works out, we'll be set. For life. I'm working so hard for us. Even when it feels like I haven’t been here, everything has been for you.” 
“You’ll… try? You’ll try and be here more than—more than physically?” 
“I’ll be here. I’ll be here, I promise,” he whispers. “I love you. You still know that, yeah? I haven’t let you forget?” 
You're not sure if you did know that, not recently. But you believe him now. So you let it rest, suddenly exhausted. “I know.” 
He guides you to the bed, settling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you tight. “Tell me,” he mumbles into your hair. 
“Tell you what?” 
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channieismyboy · 3 days
needy ♡
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{softdom!hyunjin x f!reader}
synopsis: you have a wet dream and your sweet boyfriend hyunjin helps you out in your needy state
warnings: dom/sub dynamics, vibrator, oral (f rec.), bit of crying from feeling good, thigh riding, praise, pet names (kitten) - masterlist ♡
your hands reach out to grab a hold of something, anything. or else you feel like you won't be able to handle the stimulation hyunjin is giving you. you buck up your hips, when your boyfriend's tongue swirls around your clit and pushes the vibrator further into you.
you don't know how much more of this you can handle. It all just feels so overwhelmingly good that you're starting to cry. with every thrust of the vibrator hyunjin pushes into you, its fast movements sends shocks of pleasure where you need it. your face contorts with every moan you let out. those are the only sounds that can be heard besides the hum of the toy and the slurps of hyunjin's mouth while destroying your poor swollen clit.
¨please hyunjin, i don't know how much- ahh" you get caught off with hyunjin turning up the vibrator to a higher setting.
"oh sweatheart, you know i can't do that," he says with fake sympathy, then pauses, and moves closer to your face. his is mere inches away from yours, and his strong arms pin you in place on the soft mattress, staring into his dark brown eyes. they scan your face and stare at the tears that roll down your face from the stimulation he gave you.
his hand reaches to wipe them off your face. you can feel his warm breath as he opens his mouth to speak. just as a word is about to come out of his mouth, you get woken up from your dream.
still in your hazy state you see the same man you were dreaming about, asking if you had a nightmare. now aware that that scenario was just a dream, you stare into the loving eyes of your boyfriend hyunjin that are currently brimming with concern.
it's dark in your shared bedroom, you know that it is quite late into the night from the darkness. the room only illuminated by the light coming from the clock on the bedside table.
"baby, are you okay? you've been tossing and turning all night, did you have a nightmare?" hyunjin's hands come to move the strands of hair that block your face.
you stare down at his bare chest, his collarbones that show from the parts of him that are uncovered from the comforter. you cannot help but imagine what they would look like marked up. then your gaze wanders to his plush lips, he's biting them out of concern. then flashbacks of your dream hits you, red rushes up to your face and neck.
"baby? you're zoning out, and your face..." he suddenly goes quiet, then his worried look soon turns into a smirk. fuck, you think, he knows you too well. still not saying a word, you look up at him.
"you didn't have a nightmare did you?" he asks, tone seductive. you simply nod. "no no, i need words love."
"no, i didn't." your voice is a little raspy and very quiet since it's the first time you've spoken, you didn't think you could feel hotter than you do right now.
"then what got you so worked up in your sleep, darling?" he turns his head slightly to the side. this little shit, he knows what he's doing. since you go silent he speaks up once more. "if you don't tell me then i can just let you be, and go back to sleep for the rest of the night." he turns to the side a little, proving his point.
you know that there's some seriousness to his tone and finally start to express your desires. "wait." he turns his head now.
"i had a dream that you, uh- you made me feel good." you cross your legs to relieve some of the aching tension you feel. hyunjin glances down, taking a mental note of your action.
"is my baby needy?" he reaches a hand under the covers to separate your crossed legs from each other. his fingers then lead to your wet and aching cunt, expertly swirling them to give you a little hint of pleasure. you let out a moan and your breath hitches, as he leans in closer to you, and whispers in your ears. "would you like me to help you?" his fingers, along with his enticing tone pulls you even closer to him, and you nod immediately.
the next thing you know, you're grinding intensely on hyunjin's muscular thigh. all you can think about is the pleasure he's giving you and the way his body looks in the dark. the shadowing curving around every muscle on his body, he looks so remarkably attractive.
his hands meet at the sides of your hips, pulling at the plushness on them and helping grind even further into him. you lean down and start to move faster and faster, letting hyunjin now take control of your movements. he lifts you slightly and pushes you down onto him, dragging your clothed pussy on him.
"you're doing so well for me sweetheart. just a little more and you can cum okay?" he guides you, while flexing his thighs. your legs twitch, and let out a strained whine.
"please i'm going to cum, please don't stop hyunjin" you say, voice barely above a whisper. hyunjin follows, and helps you even more until you're collapsing into his grip while cuming.
"do you feel more relaxed now princess?" you answer with a tiny 'yes', and give into the small head pats he gives you. you then feel something hard tap lightly against your thigh.
"good, cause we're not done yet, love."
a/n : ik what you’re thinking, and yes i know i have been gone for a good month. BUT I AM BACK ish- i have exams coming up soon and other things, but feel so bad cause ik the last time i updated was so long ago. I’m going to try to make up for that, i will also be updating the chanel chance series too.
anyways, i hope you enjoyed this!!! i noticed that i haven’t posted a hyunjin ff which is crazy cause he is my bias (let me be in denial). i love you all, please make sure to eat, drink water and sleep properly <3
tagslist: @flowersiinherhaiir @luabahngg
@astralis-is-typing @yourallaround-simp
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house-ad · 6 months
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strayngesparkyds · 2 days
♡ Chan's Social Butterfly Class ♡
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Author's note: Thank you for 600+ followers. I would love to hear your thoughts on my fics ♡ hope this makes your Monday better!
Characters: Chan x Y/N
Warnings: Smut, filthy dirty talk (lots of 'em. love it), unprotected sex, wall sex, slight cockwarming, petnames (baby, babygirl, cutie), a bit of silly jealousy, praises, softdom and slight harddom chan, shy y/n, slight strength kink, big dick chan, slight tit play
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
Taglist: @luvsungiie @cheesytangerine @drhsthl (lmk if you want to be added/removed)
full m.list | series m.list
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Chan has always known that you're shy. The first time he ever met you, you literally didn't even speak a word to him other than a soft little "Hello". But Chan never judged you for it, he never took it personally and that's really one of the very reasons he got to wiggle his way to your heart - he never forced you to talk. 
It's also one of the main reasons why you decided to talk to him about your worries. Being a celebrity, talking to people is one of Chan's jobs and frankly, he actually enjoys it. What better way to learn than from the master himself, right?
But what you didn't anticipate is how he is going to teach you. 
And apparently, Chan thinks you're the best student when you're under him, all needy, naked and aroused for him.
"Baby, you're doing so well. Just five more questions and you'll get what you want, okay?" Chan coos, clearly enjoying this little quiz he came up with while he has his thumb slowly circling your clit - a reward for answering his previous question right. 
He's given you a convincing set of tips and tricks on socializing - even made cute little flashcards for you - but it's been a little hard concentrating because on one hand, you love the rewards but on the other, your brain is accustomed to getting whatever you want just by looking at your boyfriend.
Chan spoils you. A lot. In and out of bed. And the most amazing thing is, you never really voice it out. Chan's just really good at reading you and as Changbin puts it 'whipped for the quiet angel who has Chan hyung by the balls'. 
So when you're here, having to 'work' for what you want from Chan, your brain malfunctions. But in the best way possible. Because it means that your mind is occupied with trying to answer his questions correctly to get the rewards, and you don't feel as stressed out about the whole orientation. 
"Now, what questions do you ask someone for small talk, baby?"
Has Chan always used his soft voice with you? You never noticed until now. So soft, his voice is so comforting and soft. 
Chan chuckles at how out of it you are right now. You're his baby, his everything. He'll give you anything you want. Anything. But sometimes, it's just so fun watching you not knowing how to function. You're always the prim and proper princess, and he loves you so much for it, but watching you going all shy, whiny and struggling to answer his questions makes him feel good on a whole new level. 
"We've learned this, haven't we? You know the answer, baby. Tell me, hmm?" he prompts again, hand slowly coming up to slap the side of your boobs, kind of like your personal wake up call. 
"Can't just be staring at the ceiling, cutie. Gotta answer me. You want your reward, don't you?"
You nod at him, wanting to let him know that you're still there, alive and definitely trying your best.
Chan's definitely amused. He's seen you going cockdumb before but he never denied you of his dick, so this, this is something new that he absolutely enjoys seeing. 
Being able to witness you fall apart because he's doing the bare minimum is turning him on beyond belief. He's so fucking hard for you right now. Usually, just a shy needy glance from you, he'd already be scrambling to fuck you like you deserve. The boys aren't wrong when they say he's whipped for you. 
It's equally distracting to him too - the way your wet slit is just begging to be impaled, the way your tits are moving with the rhythm of your heavy breathing and the way your lips are quivering because of the little touches he's emitting onto your cute clit. 
You're so fucking gorgeous and all for him. 
Alas, he can't forget the main reason you both are doing this. You need help to socialize,so he's going to be the best boyfriend there is and help you. 
"Gonna make it easier for you, baby. Give me three. Just need three, cutie." 
Your eyebrows furrow, trying hard to concentrate on the task. You have to be good. You want to be good. Want Chan to be proud of you. 
"Mm- name. Major.. house. Where they- house- home. Live," you try, earning a low chuckle from the man. 
Chan is now on top of you, thumb no longer playing with your clit but his strong legs are splitting your legs apart, making sure they're wide open, your wet slit being greeted by the cold air, making you shiver.
"Looks like I've been spoiling my girl so much, she's even giving me the wrong answer, hmm?" Chan tuts, pretending to scold you a little. You whimper, not understanding what part of your answer is wrong. 
"Where's their house, baby? So if someone comes to you and asks where you live, are you going to tell them? Hmm? Tell them that you live with your boyfriend? Tell them the number of our apartment so they can watch you get fucked everyday like a good little girl on the kitchen table? Invite them here everyday so they can see you drool over my cock like you are now?"
At this point Chan's just enjoying your struggle, enjoying the power he holds over you. The way you're whimpering and whining his name makes him feel so good, feeding his ego and making him bask in the wonderful feeling of teasing you so much that you're stuck in your shy girl mode, not knowing how to respond when he gets all dirty with you.
Chan is generous with his praises. But it also means that when he's in the mood to talk dirty, he's going to really show you what dirty is. 
He catches your shy gaze, your grabby hands playing with his fingers, thinking that it'd save you from the one punishment you know Chan will give you - the one punishment Chan knows you hate the most when you're this needy.
"Get up for me, baby. You know what to do."
You're about to cry. You're now struggling to sink onto your boyfriend's cock. You're helpless when Chan isn't guiding his dick in you like he usually would. Putting his cock into you by yourself is something you rarely do because Chan would usually ram inside you, just how you like it, just how he knows you need it.
"You don't ask people where their house is, baby. You can ask them where they're from, that's okay. Yeah? Got it, cutie?" he tells you, eyes intently watching how you're struggling to put his dick in, even when he's holding it up for you.
A pillow princess like you just looks so cute trying to do things by yourself. 
"Asked you a question, baby," he taps on your ass, awaiting.
"Mm, no home, no home," you tell him quickly, voice squeaky as you finally sink all the way down, moaning his name. Chan lets out a pretty moan, making you rub your face onto the side of his neck, clinging onto him like you're afraid he's going to go away.
Chan can't help it. A praise slips his tongue, telling you how much of a good girl you are, how good you feel around him. To make up for the sudden softness, he pinches your right nipple, alerting your brain that he's not exactly happy with your progress now, no matter how good your pussy feels clenching around his cock.
You stay like that, unmoving for a while, brain accustomed to Chan being the one controlling the pace and movements. But when he's not even moving an inch and instead is now emitting little gasps from you because of his soft spankings, you whine his name.
"Channie," you call out for him, hands unconsciously bringing his from your ass to your waist, to the position he would always put his hands at whenever he's fucking you from below.
"What do you think you're doing, pretty baby? Think I'm gonna fuck you now? After you got the wrong answer?" Chan raises his eyebrows at you, amused at how you're so desperate for him when the class isn't even half done.
"You already know you're gonna cockwarm me, baby. You hate it, don't you? Hate having to stay still on top of me with my cock inside you?" 
You nod, sweat forming on your forehead as you try to stay still. 
"Hate it," you tell him, voice weak. 
"Hate it, yeah? My girl hates not having me fuck her, hmm? Fuck," he growls when he feels your walls clench when you take a deep breath. 
"Spoiled baby," Chan chuckles, biting your cheeks jokingly. "Okay, I'll make it easier. I'll ask you one question. One question and I'll fuck you if you get it right, kay?" he promises, earning a happy hum from you. 
"When someone asks you if you're in a relationship, what do you say, baby?" 
Chan's question puzzles you. It's not in the flashcard he prepared for you… how are you supposed to answer this? 
So, you go with the logical answer. "No telling," you say, knowing that you can't reveal your relationship to anyone. 
You thought he'd be satisfied with your answer. But his tone says otherwise. "No?" 
Chan's voice is low, his hand travels up to your hair, giving it a little tug, so you'd look at him. "Hold on tight," is all he says before he's standing, your legs wrapped around his waist as he walks to the nearest wall and slams you on it, one hand at the back of your head to make sure you're not hurt. 
"No? You sure bout that, baby? You don't need to tell who your boyfriend is. Or are you gonna let them flirt with you? Hit on you and think that you're available?" he asks in a voice that he only uses when his patience is tested.
You whimper, shaking your head 'no'. 
Chan decides to ignore that, wanting to drag this out a little. 
"One glance at your pretty face and sinful body, they're all gonna be all over you, baby. And your cute shy attitude? Fuck, they're gonna wanna have you, you know?" Chan growls into your ear, making you shiver.
Not even a second later, Chan starts fucking you. 
He's pushing his hips up, hands locking your body on the wall, his cock drilling into you from below and all you can do is take it. The sound of your soaking pussy and his slippery cock rubbing against one another fills the whole living room and it makes you shy away from his intense gaze.
"Fuck, you're such a shy little thing, hmm? Can't even look at your- ah fuck baby so tight-"
"Your boyfriend's fucking you. How can you say you don't have one when your pussy is molded for my cock, you cute lil thing?"
"Fuck, babygirl. My pretty girl. Shy baby. Can't even look at your boyfriend while he fucks you, huh? This is all you wanted, isn't it? Needed me to fuck you from the beginning of the class?" 
"I have to spoil you everyday so you remember to tell every fucking person there you have the best fucking boyfriend- just like that, baby, take it. You're pussy is doing so well, so well, fuck you're so slippery baby, so tight and slippery for me."
All you do is moan. Your back arches, legs about to give up from hanging around Chan's waist. He's fucking you so hard, so fast, your tits are bouncing with every thrust. Your hair's a mess, sticking to your face and shoulders from the sweat trickling. 
"Chan, Chris, oh my god," you nearly scream when he starts rubbing your clit while he sucks on your nipple. The position definitely uses up a lot of his energy and it's so hot seeing your boyfriend not even stopping to take a breath.
"S'strong," you mewl at him. "S'big Chris," you praise him, not being able to say anything else. "My boyfriend."
That earns you one messy kiss, the man in question clearly satisfied with what you said.
"Please," you squeak when Chan lets go of your now bruised lips. Chan groans, not being able to contain his weakness that is your cuteness.
"Gonna cum, aren't you? Can feel it baby. So tight for me. For your boyfriend. Fucking hell, you're squeezing me."
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
"Can't handle my cock, can you? Big for you. I'm always so hard and leaking for my girlfriend- ah yeah, that's it baby."
Snap. Snap. Snap.
"Your boyfriend's fucking you so good you can't even talk, yeah? Hmm? Always need my cock, don't you? Such a shy little girl but always so ready for cock- my fucking cock. My good girl, my good fucking girl. Cum."
And you do. You moan his name so loud as your walls spasm around his cock that it makes Chan himself shoot his load into you. 
"Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou Chris," you whisper to him, always expressing your gratitude to him. He's giving you his cum, lots of it. The least you can do is thank him for giving you the one thing you didn't think you'd get today.
Your legs turn to jelly, releasing themselves from Chan's waist unexpectedly. You would've fallen butt flat on the floor if Chan's not fast enough to grip his arm around your waist. 
"Clumsy baby. Tired already?" he chuckles, giving you little pecks on your cheeks. 
You hum in agreement, burying your face in his chest as he holds you up. 
"But we're not done with the class yet though," he tuts and you whine quietly. "Seems like all you learn just now is that I'm your boyfriend, baby." Chan laughs, picking you up bridal style, bringing you to your shared bedroom. You know very well your mixed cum is all over the floor now - something Chan loves doing so he could take photos of. 
"Five more questions, baby. Gonna use my cloned cock that you hate so much. Not as warm as my dick, yeah?" he says softly, giggling like he hasn't just said the filthiest thing. "Gonna use the whole week to train you to be a social butterfly, baby. Get ready for more of my cum. My little baby butterfly needs it to grow, doesn't she?"
You're definitely gonna tell everyone that you're a spoiled girlfriend owned by a very charming, social butterfly of a boyfriend who teaches so well with his cock. 
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cb97percent · 3 days
DAECHWITA: Chapter 5
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“Are you seriously unaware of the niche community of people who have a thing for bulging veins?” you looked at him with suspicious eyes, “On a side note, one papercut, and you’re done for.” “Are you a member of the said community by any chance?” “Hell yeah?” you yelled as if that was common knowledge to possess, “It’s actually mindblowing you don’t get inappropriate advances on the daily with a body like that.” “Like what? “You know, Olympian god-tier. Strength for days,” you dipped your fork into the last bite, “You look like somebody sculpted you during the Renaissance in case you didn’t notice.”
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Chapter 5: Under Your Skin
📜9.7K words | Approx. 40-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings. Elements of surprise not given in the warnings. Read at your own risk: Possessive language during sex, facesitting, cumplay, masturbation (solo & mutual), dom/sub dynamics (use of 'good girl' & 'good boy'), praise kink (particularly for strength attributes), creampie, oral sex, unprotected sex. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!
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You noticed it when you realized there was an unusual amount of natural light in your corridor one day. The door to the catharsis room was slid open. You carefully approached and listened in, afraid of witnessing something you shouldn’t have again. When you peeked inside, you saw the room was empty. Hyunjin had moved out. Come to think of it, moving out would be an erroneous description because he was using this room in lieu of a summer villa anyway.
You were also informed that you weren’t going to be instructing him anymore. Nobody gave you an explanation as to why; just the fact that it might have been getting in the way of your own studies.
Way to be passive-aggressive.
But it worked to your benefit, so who the fuck cared? The prospect of being away from him made you breathe easy a little for some reason. It was fascinating to think that the emptiness of this room would make you feel all kinds of gloomy a couple of months ago.
Your second year came knocking on the door sooner than you expected, and you had a new set of robes reaching your knees now. Something that nobody else had. A black one with burgundy print on it for the first interdisciplinary student this institution had ever seen. You had spent the entire summer devising a program of study for yourself and taking extra classes to be done with this hell by the end of the year. Not because you were oh so invested in your academic career or future—it was just going to drive you insane if you didn’t keep your mind heavily occupied. Core curriculum, electives, extracurriculars, your complementary education courtesy of your agreement with the queen, and the occasional personal training you received from her for whatever reason. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying your company, but you were suspecting she may have been satisfying a longing for something else by spending time with you. You. A nobody. Yet the fondness on her face that appeared once every blue moon was too obvious to ignore. It made you wonder whether having a mother resembled this at all.
Nevertheless, you were feeling lonelier than ever. You were among so many different people because of the ridiculous amount of classes you were taking, but you didn’t even bother to make friends anymore—they were probably going to disappear from your life unexpectedly at some point anyway, so why bother? Why bother getting close to someone just to have them snatched away from you later on?
You actually had a remedy for this feeling. If you were outside, you could have gone to the cycling trail by the sea for a bike ride. That always helped you feel lighter. Just feeling the cool breeze caress your face and filling your lungs with the smell of iodine to disinfect whatever was growing in your chest. But that wasn’t within the realm of possible for you now. Inside personnel stayed inside.
You weren’t even sure what your title was anymore. Were you a student here? A guest? An employee? An aide? A pawn in some sick game you weren’t even aware of?
You were still thinking about Chris every minute of every day. You were missing him so much that you were racking your brains out to come up with an excuse just to walk into that dojo again. Or just to get a look from afar.
Afar. Just once. To convince yourself that you didn’t dream it. That he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. That he actually existed.
You were on your way back to your room that Thursday when something finally snapped inside you. The practice sessions were always held on Thursdays, and there was still half an hour left before it ended. You crossed the interior courtyard and made a left instead of a right in that open corridor to make your way to the dojo with firm steps.
You felt your heart thumping in your ears when you stood in front of that door. There were loud exclamations and high-pitched metal sounds coming from inside. Everybody must have been way too into it as usual. You started praying to all the deities that you knew not to get noticed and slid the door open the tiniest measure while taking a deep breath, just enough for one of your eyes to observe.
You quickly scanned the gigantic hall with your eyes. The uniform attire of the clan was making this an impossible game of ‘Where’s Chris?’ to be solved on borrowed time, but you weren’t going to yield until you laid your eyes on him. You could feel your heartbeat increasing by three beats per minute with every passing second.
Come on. Where are you?
You were so engrossed in trying to find him among all the swordsmen that it didn’t occur to you what he was usually doing in those sessions. You darted your eyes to the clan master observing the sword patterns meticulously to tear people to shreds if they got it wrong.
Your heart skipped several beats when you noticed the man right next to him.
Posture upright, standing tall, hands clasped behind his back with arms forming a sharp forty-five-degree angle, eyes ablaze like a pair of flamethrowers ready to burn the whole goddamn place to ashes on cue.
You gasped.
His gaze immediately turned to the direction of the door and you watched his features soften when you made eye contact for the briefest second.
You urgently closed the door and started walking away as quickly as possible, your heart still beating so fast that you feared an actual heart attack coming on. The tightening in your chest doubled when you heard a door being opened in the distance and footsteps quickly approaching behind you.
You felt a firm grip on your arm and finally stopped, breathing all kinds of erratic like you just ran a marathon.
“Your grace,” you averted your eyes to the floor and bowed to him.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Chris lowered his face trying to look you in the eye, “What’s up with the formality? Whatever happened to bathroom dude?”
You wanted to say so many things to him. God, you just wanted to be able to bury your nose in the crook of his neck to remember what his scent was like. You wanted to touch his face. You wanted to hug him so tight and never let him go.
You couldn’t.
“What’s wrong?”
He held your chin to force you to face him. Once he managed to lock his gaze with yours, it was plain impossible to look away. You felt your existence melt in those big brown eyes, anchored in your place for good.
“I c– I can’t tell you.”
“Chris, please,” you whispered, trying so hard to hold back the wall of tears blurring your vision.
“It’s me,” he emphasized like it was a crucial piece of information you had to remember, “Tell me. Please.”
He was begging you with his soul, shattering yours with the desperation in his voice in the meantime. Hell, he was most probably thinking it was you who didn’t want to stay with him. That was not true; how could it ever be true? If you could, you would spend days in his bed, just listening to him tell you stories, talking about books, where the whole drumming thing came from. All with the comfort of knowing you could kiss him anytime you wanted. You could love him anytime he wanted. Just surrender to him completely because he was the safest thing to surrender to. He was your haven that you didn’t know existed.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“I’m…” you tried to stabilize your breathing, “I’m not allowed to see you anymore.”
His face changed drastically at what you just disclosed to him, “Are you now?”
“Please don’t tell anybody I told you this. You’re not supposed to know. Please.”
Chris' expression was really hard to read. It looked like he was extremely relieved like he just learned he didn’t have a terminal disease anymore, but it was also partially cloudy with stains of spite. You had an inkling as to who that was addressed to.
“A lot of people are not allowed to do so many things on these grounds, but that doesn’t mean they don’t do it anyway.”
‘Well, don’t I know it?’ you thought to yourself with an uneasy feeling.
“Look at me,” Chris held your face in that empty corridor, currently painted orange with the sun setting in the distance, “Please don’t avert your eyes from me.”
It hurt so much. Looking into his doe eyes made you wanna uncontrollably sob. You were clenching your teeth so hard to suppress your tears that your jaw began to hurt.
“I miss you so much, baby.”
Why? Why did he have to say that? Why did he have to fucking say that and punctuate it with that goddamn address? You heard the floodgates loudly crack and finally let your tears fall.
When Chris pressed his lips onto yours, you felt your existence resurrect, basking in the solace of his warmth again. As he wiped your tears with his thumbs, you could see his cheeks were flushed, maybe slightly more than yours.
“Do you uh– Do you wanna just… Spend some time with me? Outside? Just… you and me.”
Your heart was squeezed to death at how much excitement and happiness that filled you with, yet you were so dumbfounded at the unexpected question that Chris took your silence in a way that he absolutely shouldn’t have.
“I mean, unless…”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, it’s not that! I’m just–” you corrected his misconstruction in panic and followed it with the disheartening facts, “Not only am I not allowed to see you, but it’s also… I’m not allowed to go outside.”
He was free to get out of the grounds as long as he hid himself since his adult ceremony had passed, but you didn’t have that luxury. Inside personnel stayed inside. Chris looked into your eyes and whispered with a dead serious tone.
“That’s why we’re gonna sneak around like a bunch of criminals,” he broke into a mischievous smile. When you involuntarily snorted, his dimples grew deeper.
“Tonight at midnight. Take the back stairs to the basement of your building. There’s an underground passageway behind the boiler that leads right outside the main exit. I’ll wait for you there.”
“You seem a bit too knowledgable about sneaking around,” you quipped while raising a brow.
“You learn to draw your own Marauder’s Map trying to survive in this prison camp,” he kissed your hands and pointed at you while walking back with a big smile, “At midnight! Don’t be late.”
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You threw on the blackest outfits you could possibly find to blend in with the backdrop of the night, grabbed a candlestick and a box of matches from your drawer, and made your way down to the basement. It felt super eerie like you were about to get jumpscared to death considering the time, but when the light at the end of the tunnel was Chris, it was totally worth it.
With the minimal amount of moonlight illuminating the space that reeked of damp, you found several long pieces of timber placed vertically behind the boiler, which blocked a rusty door that looked like it hadn’t been touched in a hot minute. You hid your hand under your sleeve as a precaution and pushed the handle down with all your might until the door creaked open. You were pretty sure none of the fair ladies judging the crap out of you would be able to open this door by themselves, and it made you snort to yourself. Taking out the candle and matches from the front pocket of your sweatshirt, you made a little guiding light for yourself and followed the trail until you found the exit. When you opened that door that would lead you to your borrowed freedom, you blew out the candle and walked towards the familiar black car parked outside with quick steps. The night sky turned blindingly bright when Chris smiled at you.
“So? Where are we going?”
“The weather’s a bit chilly, but I figured we could ride bikes by the sea tonight.”
You couldn’t help the jumpscare that followed you all the way from the basement and flinched in your place.
“How did– how did you–?”
“Remember the night on the rooftop?” Chris briefly turned to you before making a left turn, “You talked about bikes for like ten minutes straight. When people can’t shut up about something, it’s usually a sign they are very normal about it.”
The rooftop. The night of getting to know each other by not getting to know each other. You didn’t even realize how personal you were being while trying to keep your distance from him. Your heart felt so warm that you weren’t able to feel the night chill anymore.
The semi-robotic voice of the navigation informed you that you had reached your destination. Both of you covered in black from head to toe, hidden behind masks and actually looking like a bunch of criminals, you headed towards the stack of bikes and rented two from another impersonal artificial intelligence.
“I’ll race you to the marina,” Chris jumped on his bike and took off at full speed.
You and Chris went at it like you were getting ready for the next UCI championships with a lot of yelling and cursing accompanying the fervent turns of the tires. The chilly wind was blowing in your faces so strongly that if it weren’t for the masks you had on, a case of Bell’s palsy would be inevitable.
“Move out of the way! Incoming battle of pride!”
You squeezed the brakes right under the mermaid statue at the square, which was one of the locations you could drop your bikes off.
“I’d love to, but you’re delusional. I got here first.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
The Marina Square was always crowded with people no matter the time of day or year. Just people chilling on the benches watching the sea and the gently floating yachts, performers scattered along the walkway every few meters, loud cackles of young voices chatting on their portable chairs on the lawns, street vendors selling food and drinks.
Chris grabbed you by the wrist to punctuate the argument over who won the race and dragged you towards the sound of lively percussion rising from afar. Two men and two women were on the floor, banging on their instruments with so much energy that it made the crowd encircling them go feral. Claps and nods to the rhythm of the piece being played, high-pitched whistles and loud cheers fueling the performers, just a bubble of normal people who didn’t know each other having the most abnormally fun time together.
“Look at them go!” Chris yelled out, clearly way too excited by what he was witnessing.
“It’s a normal people thing to vibe with the rhythm, your grace. You wouldn’t understand,” you retorted, “Not everybody sits their ass down and politely claps at a performance, you know?”
“Haha, very funny.”
You watched these four people for quite some time and left a generous tip before leaving for the amount of unsolicited joy they provided you. Then you and Chris began your stroll on the walkway, still way too energized from the performance earlier.
“I remember these!” Chris pointed at a man behind a cotton candy machine, “When I was a kid there was only pink. Look at all those colors they have now.”
“Is it any good?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… Does it taste good? I’ve never had it before.”
His eyes widened twice their size, and although you weren’t able to see it behind his mask, you just knew his jaw dropped at what you just said.
“Are you fucking serious?!”
“What? They didn’t sell these around my school, and I didn’t leave home much.”
Without even saying anything, Chris ran to the salesman and asked for two cotton candies. Pink. The original was where it was at after all.
“I’m not promising it will be life-changing, but you have to experience this.”
You bit into what looked like edible wool on a stick and immediately burst into laughter. It felt like eating a piece of a laughing cloud. The texture tickled your palate and it was sticking to your teeth if you didn’t let it melt on your tongue first. It was sweet, but not to the point of giving you a headache. It tasted like the first time you kissed Chris.
After walking around for half an hour or so, you got on your bikes again and made your way back to the car at a humane speed this time, just enjoying the scenery and each other’s company. Despite the glory of the one night you had shared with Chris on his birthday, tonight was still the best night of your life by far.
You just didn’t know how much better it was going to get.
“Man, what a night!” you exclaimed in your seat before getting off the car, “Thank you for breaking me out tonight. I really really appreciate this.”
“Thank you for hanging out with me,” he smiled and killed the engine so that you could go back without any lights around.
You still couldn’t believe that after what seemed like forever you not only got to see Chris, but actually spent time with him as if you had never stopped seeing each other at one point. The outline of his side profile was glowing under the moonlight, depicting the most beautiful linework you had ever seen in your life. The more you were hesitating to leave, the more Chris was anticipating something he knew he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t help it. Your face was flushed through and through, your throat was drier than crunchy autumn leaves, and your heart was on the verge of combusting again.
When you least expected it, he threw his arm on your shoulder and pulled you in for a kiss. The most comforting yet the most arousing thing in the world. The texture of his lips still felt like ripe peaches, so full and juicy, generating an instant desire to bite into them, but he tasted like cotton candy this time. Or cotton candies had always tasted like his kisses and you just weren’t aware of it.
“You wanna do it again tomorrow?”
Tomorrow. The day after. The day after the day after. Every day. Forever. For as long as you could. Yes. Yes to everything.
From that night on, you kept sneaking out with Chris to do… normal stuff. Stuff that you weren’t even aware was normal. Like eating cotton candy. Watching street performances. Having late-night snacks by the sea and stealing each other’s fries. Holding hands. Heavy makeout sessions in his car until you fogged all his windows.
And with each passing day, you were falling deeper in love with him. You didn’t even know a human heart was capable of harboring this much love for someone. Almost unconditionally. You didn’t love him based on a condition per se—it was more like hope. An undying hope that he would love you back. Respect you just as much. Feel comfortable enough around you to be unapologetically himself. Trust you at least a fraction of the trust you had in him.
It was much different than what you had felt for Hyunjin. There was warmth here. There was affection. You felt safe. Chris didn’t need to obsessively ask you to trust him because you just did.
Then one night he took you out for a drive.
“We’re just gonna cruise. I know a spot. It’s a bit far,” he looked at you while fastening his seatbelt and shot a wink, “but closer than heaven.”
The drive to the hilltop overlooking the city was as serene as ever. He could be driving both of you to hell for all you cared. It was his mere presence next to you that made you infinitely happy. You watched the view for some time, shared the lemon cheesecake you picked up on the way, and just talked. About his fondness for bunny-shaped apples, about how your kid self thought you could swim in the streets when it rained, about his first time seeing a ship, about your fear of thunder and lightning…
“Okay, I have to ask,” you interrupted the conversation, “Did you double your workout regimen or something? I can’t fucking focus because of your veins. Your arms look so damn toned!”
“May have,” he grinned while inhaling another bite, “Why though? Does it look weird?”
“Are you seriously unaware of the niche community of people who have a thing for bulging veins?” you looked at him with suspicious eyes, “On a side note, one papercut, and you’re done for.”
“Are you a member of the said community by any chance?”
“Hell yeah?” you yelled as if that was common knowledge to possess, “It’s actually mindblowing you don’t get inappropriate advances on the daily with a body like that.”
“Like what?”
“You know, Olympian god-tier. Strength for days,” you dipped your fork into the last bite, “You look like somebody sculpted you during the Renaissance in case you didn’t notice.”
When you looked up at him again, you noticed how Chris’ eyes were fixated on the empty container he held in his hands. His ears were beet red, the telltale sign of his usual shyness, but at the same time, he was biting into his cheeks to hide the gigantic smile threatening to spill.
“Oh, you fucking liked that, didn’t you?” you playfully smacked him on the shoulder while laughing hysterically, “So you have a massive praise kink about your body, huh? Very good to know.”
“Didn’t notice we were talking about kinks.”
“Yeah? Wanna kiss about it instead?”
He said it so abruptly that you forgot the location of your rolodex of witty comebacks.
“I– I was–”
“Shh,” he pressed his fingers on your lips, “Don’t say anything.”
Even during your heaviest of makeout sessions, neither of you had done anything to cross that line to initiate anything. No matter how hot and bothered you would get each other, it seemed like both of you were waiting for the other to jump the gun first. As a precaution. To confirm you weren’t assuming anything. Those were just wet kisses and touches in the shade of dark pink and they were enough. They were enough to last you a lifetime if it ever came to that.
But that particular night, the second your lips touched each other, it immediately escalated to wine red. It was simply the last straw.
“So you just wanna have a strong body for health purposes, huh?” you straddled him, “You're not trying to get me to lose my shit over you or anything.”
“Originally I wasn't, but ever since you clenched hard under me that night, I can't fucking stop thinking about it.”
“As if you don't think tossing me around is hot.”
“I think everything is hot when it comes to you.”
Chris’ moves were much more confident this time around because he had explored parts of you before. He knew you liked it when he got a little rough with you. He knew you had a thing for his tattoo. He knew how much you loved his lips on your body. When he whispered in your ear. When he kissed your neck.
He knew.
The confined space got way too tight for both of you to properly go to town on each other, and since there was nobody else in your building anymore…
“Do you– Do you wanna come over tonight?” you blurted out while panting in between kisses.
“Come over where?”
“My– my room. I'm alone in the building,” you declared with your cheeks flushed, and then a sudden realization hit you, “Oh, sh– I mean… If you want to. You don’t have to. I just thought–”
Chris interrupted your rambling with another kiss and whispered into your lips.
“I’m dying to come over,” he squeezed your hips “Move that pretty ass. We're going back.”
While Chris was speeding back, large hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, you weren’t able to sit still. You didn’t possess the patience of another ten minutes anymore. When your hand reached between his thighs, he clenched them for you with a smirk on his face, eyes still fixated on the road ahead. His bulge growing right before your eyes made you absolutely salivate, and you sneakily unzipped his pants to free him.
Just a small lick on his slit to taste his precum. Just little kisses on the smooth skin of his cock. The anticipation was murdering Chris. He couldn’t control the sharp exhale when you finally took him in the warmth of your mouth.
“Damn, baby, impatient much?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Oh, fuck no.”
He kept driving with his left hand while guiding your head on his cock with his right. The roads were empty. Just the two of you gliding on the restricted streets and your tongue gliding on him, both promising a vista of heaven as the final destination.
“Jesus, you have no idea how fucking good you look between my legs.”
Chris wanted to look at you, keep watching you suck him dry, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the road. All he could do was try his hardest to prevent his eyes from rolling back and clench his thighs due to not being able to move in that cramped space.
“If you keep clenching those thighs, I'll sink my teeth into you. Just saying.”
“You like my thighs?” he let out a content chuckle.
“Fucking love them.”
Just then a different shade of Chris that you hadn’t seen before started to surface. He sneaked his hand into your hair and gently tugged on it.
“Take it all for me, baby. Take all of me.”
Confidence looked so fucking sexy on him that you felt all your pride reserves dissipate and did just that; took all of him in your mouth, and listened to his husky groans, complete music to your ears. In the middle of losing his sanity on your tongue, something you had never heard from him escaped his lips in the form of a whisper.
“Good girl.”
You felt your pussy throb really hard. It wasn’t what he said. It was who said it and how he said it. You wondered just how delicious it would be if Chris were to dom the shit out of you. Your enthusiasm got so out of hand that you found yourself choking on him.
“Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum. Fuck, FUCK!!!!!”
Chris slammed on the gas pedal while spilling in your mouth, still trying so hard to keep his eyes open even though the road was as straight as an arrow and there was not a soul around. You zipped him back up and placed a kiss on his right cheek.
“That was… Damn, baby.”
This was the singular time you couldn’t wait to leave that car.
“Second floor,” you informed him while getting off, ��Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
You ran back to your room, and it was maybe only two minutes later Chris appeared at your door. He was slightly panting like he'd been running.
“God, I missed you so fucking much.”
“We were just together.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Sue me.”
He attacked your lips and slid the door close behind him. You started stripping each other hurriedly since there was literally no time to waste. Every second counted. Every second you could love each other counted.
When you rid him of his shirt, your jaw dropped seeing his torso in its full glory again. As if you were seeing it for the first time. As if you didn’t already have it memorized behind your eyelids.
“Full disrespect, but fuck you. I can literally cum just by staring at you long enough.”
“I’d love to watch that.”
“When I can lick your pecs instead? Fuck no,” you threw one arm over his neck and dragged the other down his figure, “I love touching you. Love how you feel this firm.”
“You do, huh?”
You bit on the sensitive flesh of his lips, loving the way he was feeling himself. Making him feel sexy was definitely a whole turn on in itself.
“You don’t wanna know what those veins do to me.”
“Maybe I do,” he held your chin, “Tell me, baby. Tell me what it does to you.”
“Makes me wanna punch a fucking wall when I can’t trace my tongue on them whenever I want.”
“What’s stopping you?” he grabbed you by your waist, “Trace it now. Do it.”
You basically tackled him into your bed, and Chris erupted into a peal of bright laughter. You loved the sound of his laughter. It always made you feel all fuzzy inside.
When you started dragging your tongue on his magnificent ink-adorned arm, however…
“Jesus fucking christ… You’re gonna kill me.”
From his arms, to his chest, you drew a wet trail all the way down to his shaft. That was where a lot of his veins were actively pumping blood, after all.
Then you started tracing him in earnest.
“Ah, FUCK, that feels so damn good…”
Chris was an incredibly sexy man as he was, but there was just something about arousing him, pleasing him, and knowing that you were the reason he was perishing that made him infinitely sexier.
“God, the things I wanna do to you...”
“What kind of things, baby?”
“Unspeakable things,” you licked a stripe from his shaft to his tip, “I wanna make all your fantasies come true.”
He grabbed your shoulders to signal you to come closer to him and buried his lips into yours again. If he let you, you could kiss him for an eternity.
“Then sit on my face.”
“You know what that is?” you faked a mild shock.
“Just because I haven’t fucked anybody before doesn’t mean I’m clueless.”
“Oh, right. The porn stash.”
He landed a playful smack on your ass and guided you to sit up, “Spread your legs for me. I wanna watch you ride my tongue.”
God, you had missed this so much. You had missed his gaze turning into the darkest shade of black when he knew he was pleasing you right. As you kept grinding on his tongue, taking in the intense sensation he was providing you, he closed his mouth on your pussy and you heard the wet sounds of him jerking himself off behind you.
“Little more. Just a little more, please, I'm almost there. Fuck!”
When he started lapping at your clit, you exploded on his tongue. He looked so fucking mesmerizing between your legs that you weren’t able to control how loudly you were moaning. Your voice spelled his own demise, and you felt strings of something warm sticking to your back, dripping down slowly towards your perfect ass.
“Fucking hell, you get me so fucking weak when you moan like that.”
“You don’t even need to touch me. I’ll cum so hard if you keep moaning in my ear,” he kissed your thighs, “Lie facedown for me, baby.”
You collapsed on your bed and rested your head on your arms. You felt Chris smearing his cum on your back like some massage oil, and he kept rubbing you all over to soothe you. To soothe you, but also to sneakily sign his name on your body. That disguised claim. His strong arms. His large veiny hands. His firm grip.
It awakened something inside you.
“Be rougher with me.”
You heard the little exhale that came from his nose, indicative of how pleased he was at your request, but he still wasn’t doing anything.
The magic word.
“Baby, please.”
Or in your case, two of them. He lowered himself to your left ear and whispered.
“That word suits your lips so fucking much, you have no idea,” Chris quietly hissed and kissed your ear, “She wants it a little rough? Of course I'll give it to her rough. Anything my girl wants.”
His girl.
“Is it– is it okay if I call you my–?”
“You can call me your anything,” you interrupted him with your eyes still closed. Chris watched your beautiful smile fondly for a couple of seconds and then abruptly shapeshifted his personality.
“Then here's what's going to happen,” he turned you around to lie on your back, “You're gonna be a good girl for me and I’m gonna make you so feel so good. Otherwise, no more cumming for you tonight. Got it?”
You nodded as he descended between your legs.
“Good girl.”
You clenched.
“You're mine,” he kissed your pussy tenderly, “All of you.”
You clenched harder.
“Oh, she likes that. She fucking likes that,” Chris broke into a satisfied smile, “It excites you, doesn't it? You're really turned on right now.”
“What was your first clue?” you asked sarcastically, but he had an actual answer for you.
“Your scent changed again.”
“Again? I– I have a scent?”
“Mhm. It becomes sweeter when you're aroused.”
Who knew? Maybe our scents were only perceptible by other people because you knew for a fact that he smelled like sandalwood. And that it grew stronger when he was aroused.
Chris spread your legs wider and groaned at the sight again.
“My jaw will never not drop for this. Look at you,” he brushed his thumb against your folds, “So pretty. So juicy. All mine.”
He began his sweet torture by only kissing your lips softly. You were soaked already, and you desperately needed those perfect lips on your clit. The constant denial caused you to inadvertently roll your hips towards him for some more friction.
“Someone's excited, huh? I get you that horny?”
“Have you fucking seen yourself?”
“I have. What about it?”
It got from fishing for compliments to straight out asking for them. Your lips parted at the unexpected question, and you were lost for words for a second there.
“What is it you like seeing baby? Tell me,” Chris continued kissing you.
You had done much more obscene things to each other before, but why did this feel embarrassing to say out loud? Was it the vulnerability of your position? The ropes that you readily handed to him? You felt so defenseless all of a sudden.
“You're– You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“You make me wanna fuck you senseless.”
“Mhm?” Chris sucked on the supple skin of your thighs, “Did you wanna jump me in the dojo at all?”
“Jump you?” you asked in bewilderment, “I wanted everyone to watch you drill me into a wall, for fuck’s sake.”
“So you wanna get fucked into oblivion by your man. Is that what it is?” he licked a stripe from your thigh to the edge of your labia, “My girl wants her man to make her toes curl.”
Your pussy visibly throbbed at how he described himself for you, and it felt even more embarrassing. What the hell was getting into him, indeed?
“You like that name, don’t you?” Chris flashed an unnecessarily content smirk.
He flustered you to a point that you were actively getting flushed in the face by then. You wanted to respond. You wanted to say something, but it felt like if you did—
“Say it, baby,” he carried on with his kisses with his eyes closed, “Say it for me.”
Even with all the courage you were able to muster, your voice came out as a barely audible whisper.
But it was more than enough for a certain someone. He could swear he never felt happier in his entire life.
“I'll get you dripping wet for me first,” he slowly parted your labia to expose your clit, “Then I'm gonna hit it so good you're gonna fucking claw your bedsheets.”
You felt the ghost of a lick on your clit from the tip of his tongue, but you were feeling so on the edge already that you almost fucking came from that.
“Is that how you like it? Or do you like it better when it’s more intense?”
Then he latched his perfectly plush lips to your clit and started sucking on it again. When your moans started ripping from your throat, he moaned with you like he was the one getting his dick sucked.
“My girl likes it intense,” he slurped on your clit, “She likes getting her pussy licked, but she loves it when I get her cunt sloppy, doesn't she?”
Why the fuck? If the roles were reversed, you would have no problem hitting him with the most obscene shit he could possibly hear in his lifetime. Yet there you were, blushing and quivering like an untouched Victorian maiden at his mere words.
“God the sounds it would make if I start fucking this pretty hole right now… Look at how fucking wet you are,” Chris loudly hissed at you. You were clawing your bedsheets indeed, but it was because of the fucking foreplay. There was no way in hell you would be able to handle the teasing any longer.
“Fuck me.”
“Fuck me! I need you.”
“But we're just getting started, baby. I wanna know every single way I can make you cum.”
Chris placed your legs around his neck and positioned himself in a way that seemed very dangerous for your sanity.
“And I wanna make you cum so fucking hard. Every – damn – time.”
When he started eating you out sloppily in earnest, it snapped something inside you so hard that you wouldn’t be able to suppress your moans even if you wanted to. They came so deep from your diaphragm, and the louder you were, the more his enthusiasm was escalating.
“GodDAMMIT, Chris, when the fuck did you learn to eat pussy this well?”
“Hm? You like it when I'm a good boy for you?”
Oh, he was doing it on purpose now, you were sure. He was watching your every move, observing your every reaction very closely, and reading you like a book to find the most minuscule details to end your goddamn life.
“I'm gonna cum on your face if you keep talking to me like that.”
Oh, how pretty you were crumbling under him because of the brazen things he blurted out like they were love poems. Chris had never been this entertained in his life before.
“Why don't you? Bonus points if you squirt on my face, but fair warning, if you do that I’ll cum.”
“Why are you– why– FUCK!”
“I’m just following my instincts like you told me to, baby. I don’t need to learn how to taste you,” he suddenly stopped his ministrations, “But I’m learning how to please you. Now let me see how you like it when I don't behave.”
He climbed on top of you and pinned both your wrists over your head with one hand. You fucking loved how he played with you however the fuck he pleased.
That confidence. His dominant aura. His possessiveness over you in the sheets. The infinite teasing.
You were about to lose your fucking mind.
“Fuck me.”
“Can’t hear you.”
“Fuck me, Chris.”
“So you want me.”
“I don’t want you. I’m fucking craving you. Fuck me!”
He finally deemed the teasing enough and threw your legs on his shoulders in one go.
“Let's cruise again, baby. No one's sleeping tonight.”
You didn’t lie when he asked you if you ever wanted to jump him in the dojo. You did. You indeed fantasized about getting drilled by him. And there he was, this impossibly ravishing man giving you exactly what you fucked yourself to many many times than you cared to admit, stretching you open with precise thrusts, getting even harder inside your tightness.
“You like it better, don’t you? You like it when I go hard.”
“Louder, baby. Louder for me.”
Chris lowered his body and whispered before drowning you in kisses again.
“Good girl.”
You clenched again. He fucking loved that it seemed to have this much of an effect on you.
“Turn around for me,” he pulled out of you, “On fours. Spread for me a little more.”
You lied facedown and arched your ass for him, anticipating every single thing he was about to do to you.
“Just like that. That’s my girl,” he kissed your waist, “I can play with you better now.”
Chris slid his hand under you to reach your pussy, and started fucking into you while massaging your clit. You threw your hand back to grab his nape and pull him closer to you. You felt the need to touch him at all times.
“Feel it, baby. Feel what I’m feeling.”
You were fucking. Not even that, you were fucking animalistically raw but you still felt your heart growing bigger. You just wanted to hug Chris and drown him in kisses and caress his unruly hair and…
“Do you? Do you feel it?”
You looked up to kiss him in response. He turned you around again so that you would face each other.
“Wrap your legs around me when I’m buried inside you.”
You were turned on out of your mind over how vocal he was by then. Chris devoured your neck as he kept fucking you.
“You're mine,” you sank your nails into his back and started scratching him, “Deeper. Go deeper. Claim me.”
“I'm gonna drill you into this mattress if you keep talking to me like that.”
“Do it. What’s stopping you?” you returned his earlier serve, “Bonus points if you can shoot your load right on my g-spot, but if you do that I’ll cum.”
You laughed at each other in the middle of going insane together. He took your lips between his again and kissed you for a long long time.
“You’re a dream,” Chris kept talking against your neck, “You’re a dream come true. You're my dream.”
Every kiss. Every touch. Every thrust. It brought you closer to him. You felt eternally chained to his soul; there was simply no other explanation for that. You were so overwhelmed with emotion that it made you wanna cry.
“Kiss me,” you cupped his face, “Kiss me again. Kiss me all the time.”
Inhumanely passionate. You weren’t kissing; you were exchanging breaths at that point. Chris brushed his thumb on your cheek.
“Tell me you love me again.”
Don’t say that. Don’t say things you don’t mean…
“For… For tonight?”
If I say it, I will never be able to take it back. Please…
“If you… If you do… Pleas–”
“I love you.”
All this time, you were looking for an excuse to say it again. The expression on his pretty face was priceless, pure bliss mixed with excitement and eyes getting moist for some reason.
“I love you, baby,” Chris kissed your forehead, “I love you so much.”
“I love you more.”
“I love you most.”
Kisses. On your temples. Your cheeks. Your lips. Your neck. His hand slithered between your legs to massage your clit again, and he whispered into your ear with so much intention.
“Let me be your man,” he uttered in between his panting, “I’ll be your man. There’s nothing I want more.”
If happiness could kill, this was it. If you didn’t die that night, you were going to declare your immortality to the whole wide world.
“God, I love you so fucking much,” you inhaled his lips and your moans became more high-pitched, “I can’t stop loving you.”
“Ah, I’m so in love with you. Fuck!!!”
You arched towards him as Chris unloaded his seed inside you with erratic thrusts, moaning into each other’s mouths as you took off soaring together. This was undoubtedly the best fucking feeling in the world, and nothing, absolutely nothing could compare to becoming one with the one person that owned your heart. That orgasm lasted a while; you never wanted to come down—just live in this cloud of bliss with him, away from the ugliness of life, having the only thing you ever needed with you.
“Will you let me wake up with you in the morning this time?”
Fuck everything that was good and pure if you made the same mistake twice. You hugged Chris tight and buried your face in his chest, trying to control the sobs accumulating in your throat.
“Don’t– Don’t go.”
He couldn’t bear it. Even if it was due to being moved, he couldn’t bear the thought of you crying, and tried his hand at cheesiness to make you laugh instead.
“Hey,” he held your face and made you face him, “The only time I’ll go is for another round.”
There were indeed tears in your eyes, but you cracked up nevertheless.
In the darkness of the night, and your attention being only on each other, neither of you noticed the shadow that passed by under the sliding door. There was only one other person who frequented this building, and apparently, he was there to listen to the acts of catharsis rather than partaking in it because he didn’t have a space to practice that anymore. He listened instead. And listened. And listened.
The entire time.
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You were woken up from possibly the most peaceful sleep of your entire life with a ticklish feeling on your bare back.
“Chris? Is that–?”
“Shh,” he kissed your back again, “go back to sleep.”
Who were you to say no to wake-up calls if they were going to be like this all the time? Chris kept placing kisses all over you. Your neck. Your shoulder blades. Your back. His right arm hugging your body from under you kept fondling your breasts while the other caressed every other inch of your body.
“Let me love you. Let me make you feel good.”
You were getting wet solely to his hums on your skin. His left hand found its way to your clit and started massaging it gently. You were feeling Chris get hard against your hips because of your sleepy moans, but when you bucked your hips back towards him, he got even harder.
You turned your back and palmed his rock-hard length without saying anything. You brought your body closer to him and rubbed him against your clit. He was leaking. You were salivating. You started stroking him while he coated his fingers to rub you.
Both of you were still half-asleep, but refusing to stop touching each other and going back to sleep. This felt way too good. Even the simplest touches. Real eyes closed, but fake eyes open. Never once blinking. Just staring right into each other’s souls like you were facing death head-on.
No talking. Quiet moans instead. Gently sucking. Kissing. Touching. Licking. Heavy breathing.
“Almost… just…”
Your chest began heaving faster. It felt so good. He felt so good. Too good to let go.
“Breathe, baby. Are you cumming?”
“Cum for me.”
“Cum for me all the time.”
“I love you!”
You fell down from that cliff, but you weren’t scared because Chris fell with you. You fell into a bottomless sea in slow motion in each other’s arms. You fell in love.
You were fully awake by your first refractory period. Your heavy makeout sessions took place in the comfort of your own bed this time instead of Chris’ car, accompanied by whispers of little confessions to each other. How you loved his scent. How he loved your taste. How you loved each other so.
You wrapped your leg around his waist to let him inside you. His lips never left yours as he lazily fucked into you, bringing you back to the realm of euphoric haze again. So sweet. So loving. Yet still so fucking sexy. Chris was even more magnificent under the natural daylight. You could see all his details perfectly. His skin. His messy hair. His deep doe eyes. His beautiful lips. The beads of sweat adorning his forehead.
How imperfect he was was the perfection itself.
“Don’t stop.”
This felt different. This felt much different than what you thought was love before. If that was love, then what was this? If this was love, then what was that?
Then again, who said love had to have a uniform manifestation? That you needed to feel the exact same things, give the exact same reactions to everyone ever? Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose? Wasn’t loving different people supposed to feel different? Peaches and strawberries were both fruit, weren’t they? Then how come they didn’t taste the same?
“Baby, I’m cu– Fuck!”
It didn’t matter how you felt once upon a time. To hell with it.
This was just what being in love with Chris felt like.
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That day, your training with the queen involved formal interpersonal etiquette. How to greet someone at a reception. How to pay and accept a compliment. How to extend gratitude. You were so used to it at this point that you didn’t even question why she was teaching you these things.
“I am indeed very fascinated by you, child. Once you see it, you never forget it, do you?” she commended your performance of the day and proceeded to pour the customary post-training tea, “There is something I need to discuss with you today.”
Now that wasn’t customary at all. During these ‘tea sessions’, the queen would usually ask you to tell her stories from your upbringing, a great deal of which obviously included your father. She would just listen to you with a fond smile and then send you away to your guest chambers on her floor. It made you feel like you were a walking storybook for her, but you just assumed maybe she was genuinely curious about what a normal person’s life was like.
“Yes, your highness?”
“It has come to my attention that you and my son have been… how to put this delicately… physically intimate more than once.”
She cut to the chase so bluntly that you almost choked on the tea. Before you could even say anything, she wore somewhat of a mischievous smile on her face that was so unlike her usual graceful demeanor.
“Somebody has a problem abiding by the rules, I see. You do realize I’m no fool, don’t you?”
“Your highness, I would nev–”
“You may apologize if you wish.”
You immediately got up from your chair and dropped to a fervent bow on the floor.
“Not like that,” Hyejin kneeled right next to you and carried on with her instructions, “Don't drop your head. Fingertips together. Elbows in. No weight on the hands.”
You followed everything she said to a T, instantly transforming into the posture of a delicate princess.
“That’s more like it,” she sounded pleased, “Since it has already happened before, I do not see any harm in having you escort him again.”
You genuinely thought she was going to feed you to the tigers or something, but her voice didn’t sound even slightly intimidating.
“The decorum is a little different this time since the reception will be held on the grounds. My aide Mina will be escorting you to get your measurements for your formal attire. Be at the hall tomorrow evening at 8 PM sharp.”
“Yes, your highness.”
You were going to escort Chris again. In public this time. On the grounds. The queen seemed to be fond of you, so maybe, just maybe, this could be your way to get her blessing. A key to the lock that was going to open the door standing between you and happiness.
You clad yourself in your ruby red cheongsam with a golden phoenix print on it, custom-made for you on short notice by the queen’s personal dressmaker, and attached the ruby comb to your hair given to you as an accessory for your attire. When you entered the hall, you noticed that the doors to the grand reception hall were open, and there stood your prince in his very own formal attire. A black robe with golden details over a red layer inside, a wide silk red belt hugging his waist with a traditional charm dangling from it, and black pants tucked into knee-high leather boots, Butterflies rioted in your stomach when you saw him. It felt like a Cinderella story and he was your very own prince charming.
“Your excellency,” you sneaked up behind him, “Miss me?”
“I never not miss you,” Chris smiled in sheer surprise, “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been tasked with escorting you tonight. What’s the occasion?”
His smile faded so quickly that you thought he was getting sick for a second.
“Is everything okay?”
“Escort duties are not for the guests,” he uttered emphatically, “Today is Hyunjin’s adult ce–”
“Good evening, princess.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. The voice that once brushed your ears like velvet was the utter reason to have a panic attack now. When Chris and Hyunjin shared a look, a bolt of lightning struck between them so loudly that tornadoes started landing in the room.
“But… but her highness said…”
“I told you I don’t share, didn’t I brother?” Hyunjin didn’t take his eyes off Chris, “I told you to find your own.”
Chris’ anger levels at Hyunjin’s insinuations manifested itself in how hard he was clenching his jaw and fists, knuckles instantaneously turning white.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means the princess and I happen to have exchanged bodily fluids, brother,” Hyunjin declared with exorbitant amounts of contentment in his voice, “Repeatedly.”
You were nothing but mortified. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole if you weren’t going to wake up from this dream somehow. This was neither the time nor the place to disclose such information, not to mention these were definitely not the words to be chosen to talk about it. You felt sick to your stomach.
“Come on, princess. You can say how hard we made each other cum.”
“This is outrageous,” Chris left the hall to remove himself from the situation because otherwise, he was most definitely going to do something utterly scandalous.
Hyunjin grabbed you by your wrist just as you were about to bolt after Chris.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
You flung his hand off of you and pointed at him threateningly.
“If you don’t want me to bury you into this ground in front of everybody, do not touch me,” you spat in pure disgust, “I'm not your kitten.”
When you saw the main door being opened in the distance and Chris walking out to the courtyard, you dashed after him as quickly as you could with those damn heels you had on and caught him right by the pond.
“Chris, listen to me.”
“So you were just out collecting royalty cards, huh?”
“I swear I didn’t know!”
“You didn’t know what exactly?”
That this was going to bite me in the ass one day. That I was going to fall desperately in love with you.
“I thought I was supposed to keep you company tonight. You have to believe me!”
Then it hit you. Her excellency did not actually tell you which son she was referring to, did she? But wouldn’t that mean a whole other set of problems in itself?
“Did you…” Chris was struggling to actually say the sentence out loud, “Did you and Hyunjin really…”
You didn’t know how to respond to him. You didn’t want to lie, but in the grand scheme of things, it really didn’t mean anything. What you felt towards Hyunjin once upon a time was nothing compared to how you would burn yourself alive for Chris if he asked you to. There were no feelings there. You didn’t even have a proper conversation with him. Not once. Yet, it wasn’t any feeling of shame that was making you uncomfortable. It was the sheer dread of hurting Chris that was tearing you apart at that moment.
“Your silence tells me more than I should know,” he flashed a derisive smile.
“That was… That was before you.”
“So you’re not denying it.”
You were properly frustrated to the high heavens at that point. Did he really not see that you weren’t living outside? That you had to abide by whatever manuscript of laws put in front of you? That you actually had to sneak out to spend a shred of time with him? Was he not aware of what you were putting at stake for him?
“How do you expect to have something like we’re a bunch of ordinary people when I’m actually fucking forbidden from seeing you?!”
“Oh, but you could have something with him instead because you were allowed to see him as his instructor. Is that how you graded him?”
If Chris was holding his sword and slashed you in half right then and there, it would have still hurt less. Your eyes welled up with the angriest tears ever.
“That was really low, Chris.”
When your voice trembled like that, Chris realized the massive fuckup, but there were some things you just did not say even during a fight, no matter how serious the topic of conversation was.
“I– I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… I’m really distraught because I thought...”
“What? That you owned me?” you raised your voice, not giving a single fuck about who was around to hear you, “That paper I signed the day I moved in here didn’t make me anyone’s exclusive property, your goddamn highness.”
“Baby, please…”
“Let go of me!”
There was a difference between learning and discovery. One required conscious effort while the other was almost accidental. Or serendipitous based on how you looked at it.
You were a freak of nature. A prodigy of sorts. You could learn anything and everything you wanted at lightspeed, but could you unlearn them just as fast?
When you discover what love is rather than learning it, turns out you can’t.
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matryosika · 3 days
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Day 13. Throat fucking + Spit + Snowballing with Minho
Wordcount — 4,148 words
Includes — Fem reader, established relationship, mentions of stress. Alcohol consumption and (implied) smoking. Dirty talk, use of petnames (pretty), oral sex (m. receiving), handjob, deepthroating, throatfucking, drool and spit, snowballing, cum eating.
Author's Note — This is as nasty as it is romantic, and I completely enjoyed writing and building up the plot for this, I don't know why! It all felt very intimate for me, and I hope I portrayed such intimacy in this drabble haha. I know it took me a while to post something, but I'm happy I was able to finally find some time to write! I hope you like this a lot.
Please remember that english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes in advance!
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It's been a few weeks since Minho hasn't come home before 10.
Life is quite busy these days, that you understand. However, you can’t help but feel nostalgic when you remember those times where your boyfriend worked from home, spending as much quality time with you as he could. The day-to-day was easier those times as well.
When Minho started working at the company, face-to-face, again, things weren’t as they are right now —his schedules were alright, work wasn’t as overwhelming and the dynamic worked. However, in most recent times, you can tell things are getting difficult in the company he works at; with the end of the year just around the corner, it seems as if everyone is feeling pressure to get all their tasks, duties and responsibilities done before winter break. This means more work, more hours at the office, less hours of sleep and less intimacy with your boyfriend.
So tonight, when you hear the dim sound of the keypad lock unlocking your apartment door, it’s impossible not to feel an eerie sensation of happiness.
“I’m home,” he tells you, as if it isn’t obvious.
He always does so, and it’s like his very own way to remind himself that he has reached his safest place —a place away from the stressful work and the overwhelming routines. 
“It’s quarter past eight,” you frown your eyebrows in confusion, as if Minho’s check-out time isn’t originally 7:30 p.m. These days it isn’t usual for him to get out of work at the appropriate hour, so this is a bit of a shock.
“I’m very glad to see you too,” he teases you sarcastically, cupping your face with both hands and planting a kiss on your forehead. 
“Hey, I didn’t mean it that way,” you playfully hit him. “I’m just curious how you managed to escape work today”.
“I didn’t technically escape,” as he is speaking, he practically removes every single piece of clothing he no longer needs —from his suit jacket and tie to his belt, he leaves everything at the coat rack next to the door. “I finished everything in time for once, so I ran as fast as I could from the building”.
“You’re taking those with you later,” you tell him, pointing at the now messy hallway area. “I just picked up your sweaty gym clothes this morning”. 
Minho fakes a frustrated groan and follows you into the kitchen slowly, dragging his feet along the floor. “Yes mom!”
You smile fondly while he sits at the dinner table, legs spread and a few buttons of his white shirt opened.  
“I haven’t made dinner,” you murmur, somewhat in embarrassment. The household chores have always been shared between you, ever since you started living together —cooking it’s not something you always have to do as Minho can cook for himself (and fairly well!) but you wish you had received him tonight with a nice meal. Of course, you didn’t know he was coming early but had you known, you would have welcomed him with his favorite dish. 
“Actually,” he sighs, standing up from the dinner table and walking towards your figure, hugging you from behind tightly while you fix him a glass of red wine,“I want to take advantage of the fact that I got home early  to cook us something”. 
Cooking might seem something laborious and exhausting, but Minho finds the culinary arts to be exactly the opposite —instead of stressing him out, they relax him. He thrives on cooking for the people he loves, and the gratification he receives is not only compliments but the whole process. 
“You sure?” you ask, feeling his lips attached to your shoulder while he wraps his arms around you. He smells like lavender, mint and the tiniest pinch of cigarette smoke —his fragrance, combined with the warmth of his body and the meaningful moment, reminds you that you’re a lucky person. “If you wait a little longer, I can cook us something. Or if you’re really hungry, I can order take out from your favorite place”. 
“Pretty, I’ve been dying all week to cook for you,” he murmurs against your skin breathing in profoundly while he inhales the remains of your favorite perfume. “Why don’t you let me take care of this?”
“Alright,” you hesitate, but you know he means the whole thing —cooking is his favorite hobby these days, so it’s only reasonable that he wants to sublimate his stress by participating in it. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Just sit there and look pretty,” he jokes, taking the glass of wine from your hands and the kitchen counter. “Tell me about your day, or how much you’ve been missing me these days, or how incredibly handsome and hot I am”. 
“Right,” you scoff, turning around and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I’ll fix the hallway and coat rack again while you cook”. 
“Yes,” he grins in victory, content with the fact that he won’t have to do it himself. Minho performs every house chore fairly well, but organizing or cleaning stuff it’s not something he enjoys as much as cooking or doing the laundry. “You do that, baby”.
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Albeit his will to cook dinner, Minho opted for a quick dish —a delicious pasta, accompanied with a glass of wine. He was hungry, and even though cooking it’s an activity he enjoys, he was really looking forward to spending time with you tonight.
So you had dinner together, chatted for a while and while you washed the dishes, Minho went to run a warm bath for the two of you. The weather in Seoul is getting colder these days, as Christmas is approaching —a warm bath seemed adequate tonight.
For about an hour, the whole world vanishes for you and your boyfriend as you sit at the bathtub together, letting the water wash away the stress of the day. Most of the time you spend it in silence, not because there’s nothing to say but because you both enjoy the quietness and presence of each other —it’s not awkward or uncomfortable, but quite the opposite.
“Today was a good day,” you tell him, kicking your head back so it rests on his shoulder. “We should do this more often”.
“Tell that to my boss,” Minho jokes, scoffing bitterly. There’s lingering annoyance in his voice, as he is being reminded of injustices that happen at his workplace, but he doesn't let that memory ruin the moment. “I really can’t wait for Christmas break. I’ll make sure to spend all my days like this with you”.
“We are almost there,” there’s still a couple of weeks before Minho’s days off, but the promising future is enough motivation for him to bear the day-to-day, “In a blink of an eye we will be in Gimpo without worries for a couple of days.”
He sighs profoundly, fantasizing about all the things you are going to do there. “I hope these weeks go by quickly,” he kicks his head back softly until it meets the cold, white tiles of the wall. “Work is okay, I mean- it’s sure a lot but nothing I can’t handle. I just miss being with you, it feels like forever since the last time we spent the night together”.
“I know,” you exhale deeply, shrinking between his arms.
Minho’s preferred love languages have always been physical touch and quality time, so you understand his frustration.
“How was work for you today, though?” he asks you, shaking his head in hopes of removing some of his personal thoughts. “I haven’t asked you today”.
“It was good,” you smile. “Really calm and quiet, nothing out of the ordinary”.
“Might as well quit my job and join the bakery with you,” he murmurs, his words being muffled by his lips attached to your naked shoulder. “You bake and I decorate everything with frosting —cakes, cookies, cupcakes…”
“I can imagine the showcase filled with jureumi decorated pastries,” the thought makes you crack a soft chuckle; it’s as absurd as hilarious.
“Well, the most important part with baking is having fun with it,” he attacks, mostly offended by the way you predicted his performance.
“And you look like you could use some fun these days,” you tell him, implying a dirty meaning behind your words.
“If you want to fuck just say so,” he scoffs, stretching his body to reach a pair of towels. “Don’t have to throw hints at me, pretty”.
The evening has been great so far —he came home earlier than usual, you had an amazing dinner and even made some time to take a bath together, something you hadn’t done in a couple of weeks.
There was no more perfect way to end the night than fucking, but as exciting as that is, it is also very tiring.
“It’s a Thursday,” you remind him, turning just slightly to face him. “And you have to be up at 6 in the morning. Don’t want you falling asleep at your workplace”.
“Ever heard of coffee?” you hit him playfully, and join him getting out of the bathtub. He doesn’t offer you a towel but rather helps you dry yourself up, dragging the cloth along your body and letting you wrap it on your hair.
“I’m not putting you through that,” you pick another towel from the rack and wrap it around your body, watching delighted as Minho wraps his around his waist.
“You saying so makes sex seems like a torture,” your boyfriend teases you, pushing his wet hair out of his face. “What do you mean you don’t want to put me through that?”
“Well, you have work early tomorrow and sex can be exhausting sometimes,” you clarify, walking towards your toothbrush near the sink. “Plus, I know you’re already tired. I'd feel shitty if I made you wear yourself out even more”.
“I'm never too exhausted for sex with you, though,” he smirks, joining you in the sink.
The thing with Minho, that can be a good trait as a negative one, is how pleasing he can be —he always goes out of his way to satisfy you, even if that implies leaving aside his desires or needs.
On the other hand, though, he has a high sex drive, so you do believe the “I’m never too exhausted for sex with you” thing because he has proven so many times that it is true. But tonight, you know he needs to rest, so you are trying to persuade him into that.
“You can prove that to me during the weekend,” you tell him, spitting out toothpaste and water into the sink. You fill your mouth with water again and repeat the process a couple of times, Minho doing the same thing. “But right now, we are going to sleep”.
He whines and you palm his shoulder after leaving the toothbrush in its holder. In the meantime, you continue your night-time routine in your shared bedroom —you get changed, brush and dry your hair and apply some lotion all over your face and body.
He gets in the room not too long after, and does the same —fixes his hair, puts on a pair of sweatpants and applies your body lotion too.
It’s a common occurrence: he has a whole drawer filled with body and skincare products he buys, but he always ends up using your stuff.
Not that you care, though, but you’ve always found it hilarious.
“Make room,” you tell him, pushing his body away from your side of the bed. It takes him a couple of whines but he finally gets to his side of the bed, pulling the sheets on top of him and getting comfortable there.
You join him inside, being welcomed by the warmth of his body and the coziness of the blankets. It doesn’t take him long to settle right behind you, making you the little spoon —he places an arm on top of your body and, because he has the chance, places a wet peck on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he exhales afterwards, out of the blue, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
“Sorry I can’t be around as much as I want and as much as you need me to,” Minho explains, and you abruptly turn around to face him.
“Hey,” you whisper, one of your hands reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m not complaining”.
“I know, but you should,” his eyebrows furrow too, upset lingering in his voice. “Moments like this remind me how caught up in work I am, and how lonely you must feel at times because I’m not around”.
There’s no lie in Minho’s words, but you know it is not his fault at all.
“I don’t want our relationship to be a burden,” you comfort him, the warmth of your palm makes him close his eyes, “as much as I would love to have you all for myself, I understand there are other important things we need to balance”.
Minho sighs profoundly, somehow feeling a weight lifted off.
“Plus,” you smile, softly chuckling in advance to the comment you’re about to make. “That anniversary gift you got me kind of helps with bearing the loneliness”.
His half-lidded eyes shoot you a taunting gaze.
“Is it good?” he asks, bringing back to his memory the dildo he gifted you. You nod and he hisses. “Better than me?”
“Of course not!” you protest, forcing his face against yours and planting a wet peck on his lips. When you do so, he holds you closer to him, decreasing the space between your bodies, and what was once an innocent peck, turns into a heated kiss. “No one is better than you”.
“I don’t know,” he murmurs between kisses, breath hitching in anticipation. “I’m starting to think you use that toy more than my cock”.
Albeit your thoughts earlier tonight, you can’t stop yourself from craving him.
“Maybe a little,” Minho reveals, his arms still wrapped around your waist even when you try to lay flat on the bed again. “I can’t go a day without thinking about how good it feels to be inside you”.
“Minho,” you wish to stand by your original statement —you don’t want him to feel exhausted. But when you start feeling his wet lips against your neck, lazily kissing it, you try to abstain. “We better get to sleeping if you don't want to have trouble waking up tomorrow morning”.
“Mhm,” he hums, pretending to hear what you say.
“I mean it,” you coo, words slightly breaking in quiet whimpers. “Come on”.
“I miss you so much,” your boyfriend whines quietly, the sound of his voice being muffled by his lips against your neck. “I need you”.
You tangle your fingers onto his hair, softly pulling it while he nibbles at your sensitive skin. You need him too, probably just as much as he does.
“Hey,” you whisper, feeling dizzy at the sounds he makes when kissing your skin —sloppy, messy, yet erotic and romantic all-together, “baby”.
Oh, how weak he is for that pet name.
He withdraws from your body and, judged by his gaze, you can tell he is tired. But the spark of lust and desire is still there, even after a long, exhausting day.
“Let me take care of this”.
When you tell him that, he agrees immediately —he feels as if this is the grand prize to an excruciatingly tiring and productive week. As pleasing as he can be, he can’t help but feel relief.
“Are you sure?”
“Just relax,” you soothe him, cupping his face while caressing his cheeks. “I want to make you feel better”.
He swallows thickly, anticipating whatever it is you feel like doing tonight. So you kiss him one last time before switching your position on the bed, crawling to where you need to be with your knees against the mattress and your clothes slightly out of place due to Minho’s mischief.
“You always make me feel better,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your hands —they move cunningly along his body, stroking every inch of his abdomen. “Always make me feel so fucking good”.
“I try my best,” you giggle, lowering his underwear just enough to release his already hardened cock. For once you’re glad he doesn't like to sleep with clothes on, it makes everything easier.
“And you always succeed, pretty,” he compliments you, pushing his elbows and forearms against the mattress while straightening his body so he can see you well.
“Thanks,” you wrap your hand around the base, guiding your lips to the tip without actually making contact with it. You have the biggest smile plastered on your face, feeling flattered by his compliments.
You don’t mean to tease him but it comes naturally —it’s all part of the moment. Although you desire to move forward as fast as you can, you can’t help but get too lost in the moment, slowly giving yourself to him.
You stroke him a couple of times before taking him all in your mouth, one of your hands gripping the base of his cock while the other rests on top of his thigh.
“Fuck,” he sighs profoundly, head falling back in defeat, “so fucking warm”.
The thing you like best about Minho is how sensitive and vocal in bed he is. One touch, one grip or one stroke and he is already melting underneath you, grinding his hips against the mattress while murmuring the sweetest and nastiest things to you.
You have your mouth full, so all you do is nod in response, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed while you train your throat to adjust to his length tonight —the first moments going down on him are always a challenge, not matter how many times you’ve let him fuck your mouth before.
“Your throat forgot me already?” he asks with a cocky scoff, though his shaky breath and gulped words are telling a different story. You’re struggling to take him but, in your defense, it has been a while since the last time you’ve gone down on him.
A while as in a couple of days, but a while nonetheless.
“Never,” you gasp quietly when you are finally able to breath, watery eyes blinking fast in hopes of retrieving full vision, “it's just it has been so long since I’ve tasted you”.
Your tongue swirls around the tip of his length seductively, teasing every inch of it before taking all of him inside your mouth one more time. You bop your head on it rhythmically, up and down while your hands stroke whatever doesn’t fit in your mouth and play with his testicles, teasing and squeezing them ever so slightly just as he likes it.
“Pretty,” he breathes, hazy eyes staring at the ceiling of your room with his mouth ajar, “god”.
He doesn’t ask you to stop, but his body stiffs abruptly and the movement of his hands get lost in the midst. One suddenly gets to your hair, and you start noticing the hesitation behind his actions.
“Pretty,” he repeats again, fingers latching onto your scalp.
“Yes, baby?”
There’s clearly something he wants, but it is taking him forever to voice it out loud.
“Can I please fuck your throat?”
It’s just not something you usually do, hence the hesitation.
Surely, you’ve gave him oral sex countless of times, even deepthroating has been on the table for as long as you’ve been dating him, but throatfucking it’s not a practice you usually do.
“I’ll be gentle,” he adds, interrupting the thoughtful silence surrounding the room.
You don’t have to think too much before nodding compliantly, the grip on your hair tightening as he guides your mouth to the tip of his cock yet again.
“Open wide for me,” Minho asks you, softly biting on his lower lip, while he cautiously guides every single one of your movements. Helped by the grip on your hair, he pushes your head down on him, forcing you to swallow every inch of his dick until the tip of it hits your throat. “Just like- fuck”.
He holds your head in place for a while, until your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs and he takes it as a sign to let you breathe. When you finally gasp for air, and swallow thickly the remains of your own drool, Minho asks you if it was too much.
“I’m fine,” you shake your head enthusiastically, albeit your struggle to speak. “Keep on going”.
He loses no time in gathering your hair into a messy ponytail yet again, pushing your head down his cock until the tip of your nose brushes against his pubis —this time around, though, he makes you bottom out and then forces you up, repeating the same movement at a steady pace.
“Pretty,” he moans, his shakily breathing sounding like music to your ears.
All you can do is look at him, and that is already a hard task on its own —the way he is stretching your throat is making you gag around it, and maintaining both your eyes open seems impossible at times.
Still, Minho seems to enjoy the sight.
“Make a mess on it,” he doesn’t necessarily fucks you faster, but each time he pushes your head down further, “drool all over it, show me how much you’ve missed it”.
The deeper he fucks your throat, the more you salivate —fulfilling his desire is such an easy task when it comes naturally, so you don’t refuse. Instead, you take him in eagerly, focusing on relaxing your throat and not holding yourself back.
He guides your head away from his length and allows you to breathe fully, inhaling deeply while you watch him smear your own drool along his length with some gentle strokes.
“Spit on it,” Minho asks you, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock while the other is pushing a few pieces of your hair away from your face. By now you’re both a mess, and you’d probably want to bathe again, but it doesn't matter.
You do as you’re being asked and spit on his cock, wetting it even more than it already is. Your hand reaches out to replace his, and you start smearing your own fluids eagerly, jerking him off while he watches you.
“I’m not going to last long,” he warns you with strangled words, wrapping his hand around your wrist.
“You don’t have to,” you decrease your ministrations and stare at him with a smile, one that makes his cock twitch visibly in front of your eyes. “You can come whenever you want”.
You lean down to take his cock in your mouth again and he follows you instinctively, returning to the original dynamic where he is controlling your movements and you’re allowing him to use your throat to get off.
This time around, though, everything feels sloppier and desperate, even his hips are grinding against your mouth as if he needed to go deeper. One of your hands squeezes his testicles while the other grips his thigh firmly, even smearing some of your own drool on them to provide even the slightest friction.
“Yes,” Minho groans, the muscles of his abdomen contracting while his breath gets caught up in his throat. “Fuck, all the way in”.
He places his feet against his mattress with his knees slightly bent, and that allows him to grind his hips against your face just at the same pace he is moving your head on his cock —the deeper he pushes your head, the more he raises his hips.
“Can I-”
“Mhm,” you hum, although the sound is muffled by his cock. Still, that’s all it takes him to finally allow himself to come undone inside your mouth, spurts of his hot cum filling your wet hole to the brim while his cock twitches over and over again.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, his eyes tightly shut while his chest is moving frantically, trying to catch some air but failing miserably.
In spite of your efforts to swallow all of his load, most of it ended up leaking when he guided your face away from his cock, his arousal dripping from your lips onto your chin and clean t-shirt.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, his slim fingers collecting the semen from your chin just to push it back onto your mouth again. “Didn’t think I would come this much”.
“I’m not complaining,” you murmur with a victorious smile,
He doesn’t give you time to swallow his cum before pulling you close to him, crashing his lips against yours desperately while he wraps his arms around your waist. You kiss him back almost as eagerly, tongue brushing against his and giving him a taste of his own arousal, making him groan in the midst of it.
“I can’t wait to do this often,” he whispers in between kisses as you two share his cum, savoring it off of each other’s tongues.
“I can’t wait either, baby”.
308 notes · View notes
ballelino · 10 hours
♡ drunk with chan
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⇢ pairing: chan x fem!reader ⇢ word count: 2.7k ⇢ genre: smut, friends to lovers ⇢ summary: a texting mishap makes it sound like you’re offering your friend a handjob ⇢ warnings: 18+, minors dni!; mentions of an injury, handjob, cumshot, unprotected sex, breast play ⇢ masterlist ♡ series masterpost ♡ updates ♡ read on AO3 ⇢ reblogs and feedback are always motivating and appreciated! ♡
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The club is boring tonight, to say the least. Firstly, it’s because Chan isn’t drinking with you. Usually, you two are the loudest and most annoying people when your friend group goes out clubbing just because you dance like no one’s watching and do stupid things that make you laugh. In other words, you release all the pent-up stress and don’t act your age, for a change.
Tonight, Chan is not drinking because he’s grabbed a boiling pot with his bare hands, leaving both his palms burned. They’re recovering slowly, but it’s only been ten days and he’s on meds, so he can’t drown his sorrow in alcohol. He’s been snapping at his roommates for the smallest things, and they were surprised he even wanted to join you all tonight. He did join you, but he’s been sitting by the table all night with one fist completely bandaged up and the other only partially, looking around or just staring at his phone.
The second reason why the club is boring is that no one manages to catch your attention, other than Chan. He is a friend, but so are the other guys, who are all very charming and handsome and pretty—but only he makes you feel that way, which is becoming obvious. Because of this, you’re not around him tonight, especially since you’re drinking and he’s not. You both might have a small crush on each other—more serious on your end than on his, you’re sure—but you don’t want to admit to any feelings or anything like that. 
You’re sure you will if he snaps at you while you’re drunk. You’d probably cry, too, and then it’d really be obvious. So, you resort to just standing around the bar and watching him, enjoying the fact that he wore a tank top, which reveals so much of his skin, muscled chest, and sides, the arms that you want to hold onto while he plows into your cu—
“Take a picture while you’re at it.” You’d recognize Minho’s snickering anywhere, so you scoff and shake your head at his petty little comment.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter back and go back to your drink. Is your crush really that obvious?
“Wait, you have a little something here,” he says and leans in, thumb swiping over the side of your chin. “Oh, it’s just the drool from all that staring.”
You swat his hand away and roll your eyes at the comment. “Ha-ha, funny.” It would be funny if it weren’t absolutely tragic.
“Just tell him. The man’s had a shitty couple of weeks, he could do with some good news.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
It’s a lie, and you both know it. Minho’s words stay with you, make you drink more, make you stare at the object of your desire longingly, wishing you had the guts to make the first move. But, the fear of rejection is too strong, probably always will be. 
And then, he texts.
Chan: this place is so boring
Chan: i’m going home
You take a while to type your response, not noticing that he’s sent something else in the meantime. You respond with “i’m coming with”, and only then realize the conversation reads:
Chan: gonna go jerk off
You: i’m coming with!
What is he going to think of this now? You feel like you want to throw up, but then again, it’s kind of funny. Chan will understand. But, he’s the only one who’s not drunk, so he might find it weird.
Minho texts, too.
Minho: when i said go for it, i didn’t mean in the group chat
Minho: either way, smart move
You go back to the conversation and realize that Chan hadn’t texted you—he’d texted the group chat, which means all your friends can see the thing you sent and made a fool out of yourself.
Jisung: 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Felix: so we should stay here for at least an hour
The rest of them probably haven’t seen your embarrassment yet, but you’re sure they’ll have something stupid to say when they do. And then, Chan responds.
Chan: shut the fuck up
You’re not sure if he’s angry with you or with them, but it doesn’t sound goo. A second later, he texts you outside of the group chat.
Chan: are you going home?
And so you find yourself in the back of an Uber with him. He hasn’t said a word about the group chat. All he did was get in the car and stare through the window, chewing on his bottom lip.
“So are you really going home to jerk off?” you ask, chuckling as you remember the embarrassment from earlier. It’s awkward as hell, but it’s better to address it when you’re tipsy than tomorrow when you’re sober.
“I fucking wish,” Chan tells you, lifting both hands to remind you of the current state of his hands.
“Wait—” You gasp, realizing why he’s been so fucking snarky lately, why his fuse seems shorter than usual, why he’s been so off. “You can’t do it on your own?”
“That explains why you’ve been… weird.”
“Weird?” He looks at you with a frown. “Towards you? I really didn’t mean to. I’m just… frustrated. Can’t do anything with these hands, not even that.”
“Don’t you have a fleshlight or something?”
Chan looks up in embarrassment, chuckling. “No, I don’t.” With that, he looks through the window. “I’ll get these off sooner or later and then I’ll stop being weird, I guess. Sorry if I was rude to you.”
“You weren’t,” you say with a gulp because your mind is taking you places it shouldn’t be taking you, like wondering just how hard his cock would get if you were the first thing to touch him after such a long time… How quickly would he blow? “Do you need a hand?”
“What?” His head snaps in your direction. “What do you mean?”
“With… that?” you ask, sneaking a glance at the boner that’s very visible. 
Chan gets them around you sometimes—when you’re talking about sexual stuff or when you’re sitting on his lap or cuddling—but he usually shoves a hand in his pocket to hide the telltale sign of arousal. He can’t do that tonight and he knows he’s busted—you can tell when he bites down on his lip and chuckles nervously.
“Sorry,” he whispers, “I… I’m like an animal these days.”
An animal? God, that sounds promising.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You’re serious about this?” Chan looks at you questioningly, a slight frown on his face.
“It’s just a… Handjob, I guess.” You shrug, making it seem more meaningless than it actually is.
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When you get to his place, you’re still determined to go through with it and you have alcohol to thank for that. Chan asks you if you’re sure again, and you laugh it off, going towards his bedroom. It’s just a handjob, right? Just that.
So, when he sits on his bed and pulls his shorts and boxers down a bit, you shouldn’t shiver, right? Your mouth shouldn't salivate, and you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about taking him in your mouth and gagging on i—
“You really don’t have to,” Chan says again, placing his bandaged hands over his cock, covering it. “I can live for another week, it’s no—”
You grab his hands by the wrists and pull them away. The next second, you’re straddling his knees. It’s not because you want to be close to him, it’s just that the position feels more natural. “Just shut up and let me help you for once,” you hiss the words, alluding to the well-known fact that Chan always has everyone’s back. Maybe it’s time you did something for him, even if it’s as self-indulgent as this.
Chan grunts when you wrap both hands around his cock and start tugging at it. “Do you have any lube?” you ask, knowing it would be wildly inappropriate to wet his cock with your mouth. Even though rushed, the moment is weirdly intimate, or at least that’s what it seems like when your eyes meet and you realize you’re on Chan with his dick in your hands and that he’s trembling under your touch.
“Uhm... Top drawer,” he finally speaks, looking at the nightstand. His voice quivers, which makes you feel a bit better about being so shaken up about getting to finally touch him. His cock is so hard and warm and you can help but think about what it would feel like inside of you.
You get the bottle of lube out, squirt some on your palm, rub both palms together, and get back to what you were doing. This time, Chan moans and closes his eyes, letting his head rest on the wall. “Fuck.”
You’re going fast since it’s what most of your partners preferred. A hard grip, fast movements, a squeeze here and there and they’d shoot quickly—you figure that will work for him too. “Good?” you still check, wanting to hear Chan say it. Selfish, this whole idea of yours.
“Perfect,” he hisses, opening his eyes. “Slow down.”
“Don’t like it fast?” you wonder, slowing down your movements, just as he asked.
“I like it a lot,” Chan explains, looking down at your hands. “Too much.”
“Oh,” you understand what he means when you realize how much precum has dripped out of his cock. That’s when you remember he hasn’t been touched in a while and that he’s probably been aching for release. “Come fast if you want to, I don’t care.”
“It’s— I want to enjoy it some more.” The fact that he bites his lip after saying that makes you whimper, which is embarrassing considering you aren’t being touched in any way. “You okay there?”
“I… Yes.”
“Sure?” he asks, gaining his confidence back. “You look a little flustered.”
“Maybe because your dick is in my hands,” you suggest, scoffing. Since Chan chuckles, you decide to be mean and start moving faster again, which gets him to hiss in mere seconds.
“Please, please, please,” he begs so sweetly that you really don’t want to stop, but you do.
“Why do you not want to come?” Isn’t he snapping at people because he just wanted to orgasm?
“I want to,” Chan stresses, looking at your hands once again. They do look nice around him, you have to admit, especially all wet and slippery. “I need to, but I want… I… Don’t want to make things weird, but I guess they already are. I want to enjoy you touching me for as long as I can.”
It’s not romantic, it’s not any type of admission of feelings or anything of the sort, yet you find yourself smiling and looking away like a fool. A fool in love, but he doesn’t have to know. 
“Chan,” you hum slowly, starting to tug at his cock with both hands, twisting them in the opposite directions. “Come. I’ll touch you again, I promise.”
“I can’t ask for this twice,” he shakes his head, “I can’t.”
“I’m already doing it once, so what’s the difference?” You shrug, knowing very well the more times you do this, the more you’re going to want the man.
“I won’t want you to stop, fuck—” He grunts when you start going fast, face twisting as if he’s in pain, a guttural groan turning you on beyond belief. “Get greedy and all that.”
“Sometimes greedy is good,” you say and grin at him right before starting to move so fast you just know he’ll blow.
“I’ll— I’ll come. Fuck, yeah… You’re so good at this,” he gulps, “I’ll come. Don’t want it to get on you.”
“Can you come all over yourself?” you ask the question before really thinking about what you’re asking. It’s something that turns you on immensely, but definitely not something you tell guys you aren’t even dating. Hell, you haven’t really said it out loud before.
“That’s what you want?” Chan cocks an eyebrow up and gives you a smirk, and you just know he’s about to start teasing, so you start twisting your hands again. “I can, I can.”
So, you push his cock away from you, getting it to point towards him, and continue doing what you’re doing. The louder Chan gets, the louder you get, even though you’re not being touched. 
You can’t stay quiet when the guy you want to fuck is moaning because of you, grunting your name, digging his heels into the bed, twisting and turning under you. He blows without warning, cum shooting out and spraying his black shirt, streaks of white cum staining it instantly, the fabric soaking in the sperm. You keep jerking him off until he gives you everything, until all the cum is out and on his shirt, until Chan’s body relaxes under you and he whimpers. “Fuck, I needed this.”
You wipe your hands on his shirt and then tug at the hem. “Up.” He listens, allowing you to take the shirt off of him. You get up and take it to the bathroom, soaking it in water to get the cum out of it.
When you get back to the room, Chan is still in the same place you left him, head resting on the wall, cock out. He looks tired but blissful, so you walk over to the bed and grin. “You okay?”
He nods at you and looks at his lap. “Come sit.” When you take your earlier position, Chan places his hands on your thighs, but he can’t really touch you—the bandages are in the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of his body, so you shiver.
“Listen, I… Can I return the favor?”
“Re— Return the favor?” You gulp, wondering what he wants to do with you, wondering why you’ve already made up your mind about letting him.
“I can’t finger you, but I can… I have my mouth, still.”
It’s then you notice he’s hard again, and you wonder just how many times he can go in a row. Maybe you’ll find out someday. “You’re serious about that? You don’t have to return anything.”
“I know, I’m just— I want to.”
“Come on, I’m not oblivious,” Chan notes, and you know exactly what he means. “You aren’t either. We’ve already crossed the line, might as well do it in style.”
“Then how about I make you come again?”
You grab his cock again and run your hand over it, sneaking the other one down between your legs, under your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side. That’s when Chan realizes what you mean and looks up at you with adoration on his face. “You want that?”
Instead of responding, you scoot over closer and lift your hips so you can position him at your entrance. When Chan nods at you, you sink all the way onto it and grunt loudly. Fuck, it feels good.
“Fuck me,” he groans, “how can anything feel this good?”
“Right?” you grunt right back, grabbing his shoulders. “You just came and you’re already this fucking hard? What?”
“Can you please take off your shirt and whatever you have under it?”
You do as asked, not realizing Chan would instantly attach his mouth to your tits and start sucking on them one by one. Here and there, his teeth dig into the flesh, making you cry out while you move your hips back and forth and then in circles, trying to find the motion that feels best for both of you. It’s so easy to get lost in it, though, when he sucks on your nipple so sweetly and looks up at you with puppy eyes. 
So, you have no choice but to wrap an arm around him and use the other to tug at his hair while you ride him. “You really like them, huh?” It’s been minutes of him just going at it—licking, sucking, biting, suckling, and he doesn’t seem to want to stop.
“Always stare at them,” he admits, breathless. “Wanted to touch it for a long time. Now I get the chance but can’t.”
You laugh at that, realizing how tough everything must be for him right now. Fuck, the guy can’t even get himself off properly. But, now Chan has you.
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286 notes · View notes
straylightdream · 3 days
”but not in the same way”
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feat: Bang Chan x F.Reader
↳ No strings attached gets messy when feelings are involved. 
genre: friends with benefits au
wc: 2.5k
warnings: angst, arguing, talking about Chan kissing someone else (kinda cheating), semi rough sex, unprotected sex, a lot of body insecurities
𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.
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You were absolutely furious as you stood across from him in your kitchen. He stared at you with his eyebrows pushed together. It was taking everything in you to not slap him, but you knew damn well he would barely feel it. Nor would he really care if you slapped him. 
“Just leave Chan. I’m done,” you said pointing to the front door. You just wanted to go to bed and not see him anymore tonight. He’s hurt your feelings enough for one night. 
He rolled his dark eyes at you, and that just seemed to frustrate you even more. He couldn’t seem to understand that you didn’t want to be around him right now.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he groaned. As long as you have known him he has always been a stubborn man. 
“I’m not your fuck buddy anymore so you can leave,” you seethed. Your feelings were hurt and you were so mad you could barely see straight. This was you telling him it was over. Your arrangement was now done. If he was just your fuck buddy your feelings wouldn’t be hurt. Tonight made it clear you had fallen for him. 
You and Chan had been sleeping together for the last six months. You liked him way more then you knew you probably should and you don’t know if he saw you as anymore then someone to get his sexual tension out on. You had been friends and met because Minho introduced you and from the moment you met you just hit it off. You basically had a crush on him from the moment you met him. What wasn’t to like? He was handsome, talented and charming. You didn’t think he had any interest in you other than being my friend. Sleeping with him really brought you out of your shell. 
You had spent most of your life insecure about your body and he made you feel sexy. You were the first person Chan had slept with since the his bad break up up three years ago, and you could tell being with you was a way to release his built up sexual tension.
“Why are you cutting me out?” he asked.
“Because you can’t go kissing another women and just expect to come back here and have sex with me,” you said pointing my finger at him.
You were at the bar with Chan and some of the other boys. You had all been drinking and then some pretty girl who was wearing one of the shortest dresses you had ever seen came over and was flirting with him and then next thing you knew they were kissing. You stormed out of the bar and were quickly followed by Chan. He didn’t actually let you get very far before he grabbed your waist stopping you from running away from him. Pushing away from him you walked home from the bar with him following you. You knew you couldn’t end this night without talking. You were friends first before you started sleeping together so you knew you had to at least talk things out. 
“She kissed me and I pushed her off,” he said lightly, moving your hand away from him.
“You should've said no,” you seethed leaning against the counter that was behind you. Your eyes brimmed with tears. You were hurt and you couldn’t help but want to cry. 
“I pushed her off me and chased after you,” he said, stepping towards you. “I respect you too much to go randomly kissing some random girl.”
“Chan I’m not your girlfriend so let’s just end this and maybe we can be friends again,” you sighed. You really wanted this to be over and you just wanted him gone the more this fight dragged on the more it just broke your heart.
“Are you really that dumb that you don’t realize I would want more with you?” he asked, taking another step towards you. A salty tear slipped down your cheek as his hand gently rested on your cheek. This thumb delicately dragged across your cheek wiping away your tears. 
“Chan half the time we have sex I feel like the lights are on but nobody home.” You couldn’t believe you were actually having this conversation.
He pulls back from you and stares at you with a confused look on his face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” It was obvious that you had struck a nerve. “Do you not get off when we have sex? Because last time I checked I always make sure you cum before me.”
You rolled your eyes at his comment. You weren't saying by any means that he satisfied you in bed. It was more he wasn’t emotionally there.
“That’s not what I mean,” you groaned. “It’s all mechanical with you. When we have sex it’s the purpose of you releasing frustration and sexual tension.”
“I have a lot of shit going on in my mind and honestly the only time I get to relax and not think about work is when I’m with you,” he let out a defeated sigh.
“Chan…” you weren’t sure what exactly to say.
“Let me finish. I know I work too much and I’m moody most of the time. I'm really stressed with work because I don’t exactly know how to balance my work and life separately. You’re also the first girl I have been with since I got my heart broken. Give me time to figure this out. I want more with you, but I need some time to process everything. I need you to be patient with me,” he looked at you with a look as if he was begging you to give him time.
“Alright,” you reached out and lightly touched his arm. “I need for you to try to give me some more emotions.”
He nodded his head as he reached for you. He engulfed you in a hug pulling you tightly into his chest. You felt him press his lips to the top of your head.
You honestly wanted more from Chan then just casual sex, but you weren’t even sure if you were having that anymore. He made it seem like he wanted more with you but he wasn’t sure on how to have it.
“What happens now?” You asked as he still held you close.
“We’re gonna try to be more. I just need you to be patient with me,” he slowly let go of you. There is a silence that takes over the room as you stare at each other for a long moment. 
You didn’t say anything, you just leaned up and pressed your lips to his for a gentle kiss. You pull away and star at him trying to judge his reaction. He smiles before pressing his lips to yours for a heated kiss. After this fight you had just had you really just wanted to kiss him. Your lips moved together and you wrap your arms around his neck pulling you closer to him. His hand rested on your ass while his other hand roamed your back holding onto you.
Quickly he started moving you towards the kitchen table. Without thinking he reached for your soft hips and sat you down on the edge of the kitchen table. 
He smiled at you for a moment as he stood between your legs. His large hands rested on your hips. Reaching up rested your hand on his cheek. This whole moment felt different than any other time. This doesn’t feel like some lust filled haze he’s normally in. 
Your lips connected again and you reached down to work on getting his shirt off. You knew deep down you shouldn’t probably sex but things felt very different between you. You could tell deep down he was trying to show you he cared. His movement didn’t feel as mechanical as they normally did. His movements just seemed to be filled with passion. His hands roamed your body as your lips moved together filled with hunger.
You pulled a part catching your breaths while Chan made quick work to remove his shirt. He bit his bottom lip and started unbuttoning your blouse. You stared at him with lust filled eyes as he took your shirt off. You took it as your cue to reach behind you and unclasp your bra. Normally when you had sex with someone you tended to feel self conscious about you body. You had a soft stomach that made you feel quite self conscious, but with Chan the way he would look at you he always looked at you like you were the hottest thing around. The second your bra was off he reached up with his large hands and started massaging your breast. You couldn’t help the moan that passed your lips as he started kissing your neck. His lips moved from the base of your neck and started moving towards your breast. Slowly he swiveled his tongue around your nipples that were peaked with excitement.
Leaning your head back in ecstasy at the feeling of his lips on your body. He pulled away from you, biting his bottom lip.
“Take your underwear off,” he groaned, reaching for the button on his jeans.
Jumping off the table you made quick work of getting your panties off and hiking up your skirt so that it was bunched up on top of your hips. Chan took this as his cue to rid himself of his pants and boxers. His erection sprang free and he just stared at you wide eyed. Hopping back on the table you reached your hand out signaling for him to come to you.
Your lips connected again roughly and you slowly reached down between you to stroke his length a few times. He rolled his head back and let out a groan at your touch.
Reaching between you he moved your hand away from his length and worked on lining himself up with your entrance. You stared into his dark eyes as he slowly slid into you. The feeling of him stretching you causes you to gasp. He stills in you to give you a moment to adjust. Leaning forward he rested his nose against yours. Even though you had sex often I don’t think I’ll ever actually get use to the feeling of him inside you. He’s thicker than anyone you’ve been with before. 
He put his hands on the table on each side of you and started thrusting. You leaned back staring at him as he held a steady pace thrusting into you. Chan knew exactly how to move his hips to drive you wild. You were kind of surprised when he leaned forward and roughly connected his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling yourself closer to him as he rolled his hips into yours over and over again. Each thrust making each nerve in your body makes you feel like it’s a live wild. 
The whole act of you having sex felt completely different this time. You felt like he was more connected to you than he had ever been before. You raked your nails across his back. You couldn’t help but let out loud moans with every thrust of his hips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned against your lips.
Him speaking caught you off guard. Normally while you had sex he wasn’t much of a talker. Normally all he would say would be a string of cuss words, moans and groans, occasionally your name would pass his lips.
“Cha-,” you moaned, leaning my head back in pure pleasure. You weren’t even able to say his full name. You were so caught up in the way he was making you feel. 
“Tell me what you need,” he said as he ran his hand down your side. His hand gripped your hips roughly.
You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. You were too taken over by pleasure. You closed your eyes, feeling your stomach begin to knot as you grew closer to the edge. You wanted to beg him to push you there but you couldn’t speak.
“Babe,” he moaned.
“Harder,” was the only word your brain was able to say. You don’t think you knew any other words other than his name.
Roughly he grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His lips started roughly kissing your neck as he roughly slammed his hips into yours. You ran your nails down his back holding him close to you. You knew after this his back was going to be scratched up and you were going to have hickeys all down your neck.
“Chan,” you shuddered as you hit your release.
His thrust got sloppy as his back tensed as you held onto him riding out your high. You knew he was almost there. He got a few more thrust in before it spilled inside of you.
He slumped forwards leaning against you as you held onto him. You didn’t say anything, you just held each other as you tried to catch your breath.
“You’re on the pill right?” he mumbled with his head resting on your shoulder.
You realized you were still attached, that he hadn’t even bothered to pull out, and you hadn’t used any protection. You had got completely caught up in the moment.
“Yeah,” you sighed. You couldn’t be more happy in that moment that you had decided to get on the pill when you and Chan started sleeping together.
Pulling away from you he smiled and slowly slid out of you. Reaching up and resting his hand on your cheek and tilting your face up gently so you were looking at him.
“Did you maybe wanna go out to dinner tomorrow?” he asked. 
You think this was his way of trying to prove to you that you meant more to him, and that he really wanted to work on some sort of a relationship between you.
He bit down on his bottom lip as he stared at you waiting nervously for you to respond. Slowly you nodded your head.
“I’m gonna put in a real effort with you.”
“That means a lot. I’m gonna be patient with you and we can take our time.”
Leaning in he gave you a gentle kiss on the lips. You knew that you might not have a normal relationship right now but maybe soon you could have more.
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spilledtee · 24 hours
𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐌𝐞
Word Count: 6k
Warning: afab!reader, swearing, slow build, photography, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, smut, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), praise kink, oral (f. and m. receiving), riding, cumshots, threesome- F/M/M, photographer!Hyunjin, dom!Hyunjin, dom!Felix, switch!reader
Synopsis: In an attempt to find some inspiration Hyunjin asks both you and Felix to model for his next shoot. Little do you know what kind of inspiration he was looking for.
A/N: I haven’t posted in awhile but that doesn’t mean I am not writing. I’ve got a couple series chapters I have to write and part 2 of For The Birthday Girl that will be coming out on my birthday and part 3 of Power is Power. Anyway I hope you enjoy the fic and please share any feedback that you might have :)
Full Skz Masterlist
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“Well, I can’t guarantee I’ll perform to industry standards.” Felix mulled over the request as he thumbed the edge of the mug. The cafe was busy this evening thanks to the location on a busy intersection, unfortunately it was the best meeting place for both of you right after your shift, plus something as cute, frilled with an animal theme of cats and dogs, was a surefire way to sway the freckled man’s decision. 
You leaned closer to him offering as much reassurance as possible. “Don’t you, you’ll be fine. You’re one of the handsome men I’ve ever met and the camera loves you. Plus, you know the photographer. So that helps, right?”
Truth be told, while it was no surprise to everyone that Hyunjin had taken up a side-career in photography, it surprised everyone that the main focus was on modeling and headshots, Hyunjin having been expected to be the model rather than the one behind the camera. It was an unexpected turn, though when he had mentioned in passing that it had something to do about the human form being intriguing definitely caught your interest. 
You, in fact, had modeled for Hyunjin before, but this time he requested a two-person shoot to broaden his portfolio. Felix had come to mind without hesitation because to be frank, he was the most attractive man you had laid eyes one, so angelic, ethereal, though he could easily portray a darker side to him with a stare that could make anyone freeze and so what if you had a thing for him? Modeling with him would simply be a bonus.
“I guess it is better with someone I know than a stranger. Alright, I’ll accept your offer.”
You had to force your smile into less cheek splitting as you nodded. “Great, I’ll text you the details. Hyunjin will want you to wear certain clothing and colours, depending on his set up.”
“Gotcha.” He said, before downing the rest of his drink and stood up. “Now, let’s get outta here. It’s a madhouse and I’d rather enjoy talking to you in a less hectic atmosphere. There is a quiet cat cafe near my house.” Before you could even respond, Felix was already pulling you by your feet and headed towards the door. It seemed that everything seemed to be going in your favour, so how could you argue when the man you had been crushing was offering to take you out?
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On the day of the photoshoot Hyunjin messaged you with the address of his new studio. From the outside it looked inconspicuous, a small garage type building with a fresh coat of paint. It was late afternoon, as per the photographer’s request, the best lighting was from 4-6pm was the words that came from him, and everything was just starting to catch an intoxicating red-orange flow. You sat in your car, deep breaths one after the other. No matter how many times you stepped in front of the camera, the pre-shoot jitters always got the best of you, add Felix into the mix and you were a proper mess. You flipped down the visor mirror and inspected your make, or lack thereof. A light dusting of powder and mascara was too minimal for typical shoots but Hyunjin was the visionary and you were the mere subject matter, so you respected his suggestions. After a final breath, a deep in and out, you left your car and entered the studio.
The inside was contrasted from the out, vaulted ceilings strung with multiple studio lights in all different colors, fabric panels hung here and there while random props gathered in a corner and cleared the area from the main attraction. When you saw what Hyunjin had set up, your jaw almost smacked the hardwood floor.
There in the center of the studio sat a massive king sized bed, white sheets and all, a thick plush duvet topping it off. The frame was beautiful, ornately carved walnut. You had to wonder, given its size how the hell he got into the studio. The afternoon sunlight filtered through a frosted window and cast a luminous glow on the bed, a bed you wish you could sleep in every night, despite costing two month’s salary.
The photographer was nowhere to be seen. His camera was set atop a tripod pointed straight towards the bed, anticipating, waiting. Your internal organs danced. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be too much for Felix to handle. A photo-shoot in a bed on his first day off the bat? That was asking a lot. If he said he wasn’t comfortable you wouldn’t blame him. You approached the bed, sat on the edge and rubbed the duvet fabric between your fingers.
“There’s my favourite person to shoot!” Hyunjin cooed as he entered the studio from a small office in the back. He was beaming as he approached to give you a quick peck on the cheek before plopping down on the bed beside you. 
You frowned sarcastically in response to his greeting. “I really hope you mean with a camera and nothing else.”
He rolled his eyes, giving a rather famous disgusted glare. “Oh please, you know what I mean. So…” He gestured to the setup before patting the bedspread. “How’s it look?”
It was terrifying, but for all the right reasons. “It’s well… not what I expected. Who know what Felix is going to say.”
Hyunjin gave a buoyant laugh. “Are you kidding? Please, you’re downright gorgeous–” He paused pretending to tousle a loose, flowing strand of hair. “--and I’d be surprised if he doesn’t leap in bed with you.” 
Try as you might to prevent it the smile found its way to your lips, spreading up to the apples of your cheeks. “Shut up.” You said, shoving him and nearly knocking the lanky man over, causing him to flop over the bed. “So, are we just waiting until he arrives?”
“Actually.” He hopped off the bed and all but skipped towards his camera. “I was hoping to grab a few solo shots beforehand. That alright with you?”
Thank goodness. You felt relieved at the chance to warm up.” Sure, sounds good.” As you said that you got off the bed to get ready.
You shrugged out of your clothes, goosebumps peppering your skin, the white tank tip and tiny white shorts ensemble not suit for the air conditioned studio. Everything in this shoot was so, so… clean, so crisp. Blank. It both intrigued you and made you question Hyunjin’s thought process. You hurried back to the bed and got under the covers to get warm, chattering your teeth in a rather over dramatic fashion. “Holy shit, it’s freezing in here!”
He snickered. “Wee bit nipply?” At that a long, ring cladded finger pointed towards your chest, the evidence of your chill clearly on display.
“Oh hush.” You tutted at him, rubbing your arms so that they would heat up. “Okay, let me know what to do.”
He studied you for a long moment, chewing his lip and eyes darting back and forth, with the focus of a predator hunting its prey. When he spoke again though, his voice was soft, providing requests in the kindest way. “Let’s start with you laying down, on your side– yes, just like that. Okay, put your hand right there, on the pillow, yeah you got it…”
When the camera shutter sounded from the first time it startled you, the noise echoing off the huge walls of the studio, punctuating the silence. Hyunjin had tried shooting with music in the background before but he complained it was either too distracting or never captured the perfect mood he was looking for, so he opted for quiet, intimate sessions. It made the whale experience special and worthwhile, as his work always reflected nothing short of perfection. 
You followed his instructions when prompted to move this way, or look over there, or hold your hair like this. Soon the bundle of nerves in your stomach unraveled and you felt at ease, delved in your element, confidence now oozing from your pores as the shutter went off over and over.
After some thirty-odd shots or so the door to the studio swung open, spilling bright sunlight in the room and Felix entered looking like a lost puppy. He took his coat off and soothed it over his arm. “Hey guys.” He announced his arrival, his silken voice music to your ears. 
Hyunjin placed the camera back on the tripod and greeted him. “Hey, Felix. What took you so long?”
“Chan wanted to ask about Genshin and I was explaining to him…” As he spoke his eyes landed on you, sitting up in the bed and the sheets rumpled pile around your waist. His voice trailed off and though his expression never faltered his eyes revealed the truth, the slight flicks of his gaze up and down, how his eyelids fluttered… Right before the screen of exercised composure snapped in place. You had messed him up. Big time.
Hyunjin, who had noticed, only had a small grin plastered on his face. “You were saying?” He asked in a rather smug tone.
Felix had to look at his taller friend while he finished the sentence, clearing his throat before responding. “Sorry. He wanted to explain the artifact building system and how domains work. I told him I would later because I had to come here.”
“I’ll tell him what the internet is then.” Hyunjin joked and before Felix would muster out a witty response to joke around with him, Hyunjin was back to photographer mode, already bossing him up. It was borderline comical. “Okay, time to undress. You’re wearing what I asked, right?”
“Of course.” Felix replied in his honeyed voice as he laid his jacket over the arm of a char and began to undress. You watched in hypnotized silence as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, one by one by one the buttons came loose. Hyunjin made small talk with him as he removed his clothes until he was left in a, unsurprisingly, white cotton shirt and white boxer briefs. It was the nearest to naked you had ever seen him, and no amount of makeup could camouflage the blush that spread to your cheeks. Your eyes automatically landed on his package and trailed up to fixate on the bare skin below his navel, until he pulled the hem of his shirt down. You brought the duvet to your face to try and hide behind it.
“Alright, get in the bed.” Hyunjin instructed as he turned the camera back on. You scooted over as Felix slid under the cover to join you, his expression composed yet he offered you a kind smile. You hoped like hell he couldn’t hear your heart rate.
Both of you looked at Hyunjin for the next step. His voice fell back into that gentle, but firm instructor like tone again and he plotted out your first shot together. “Felix, lean back on your elbows and keep looking this way. Okay, now, look over this way, yeah just past my shoulder..” Click! Click! “Nice, now look back towards – yes, just like that.” Click! Click!
Hyunjin circled around the bed to your side. “Okay, I want you to pull the blankets up to your chest and hug them. Yeah exactly like that. And Felix, lay on your back and – Oh man, yeah look at her like that. Hold that gaze, don’t blink.” Click! Click! “Remember to just breathe…”
Felix was a natural, no surprises there. He had insisted that he never modeled before but you could have second guessed it from how laid back he was. You were the nervous one this time around it seemed. Hyunjin snapped picture after picture and you lost count past sixty or so, the only measure of time in the increasingly saturated orange light spilling into the room.
“Alright.” Hyunjin hummed as he filled his camera. “I want to try something. Are you two okay with um, well, touching each other?”
Your eyebrow raised. “How so?”
Sensing your reaction, Hyunjin immediately backed up. “No dirty stuff, just some light stroking. Is that too much or…?”
You at Felix for a response, who to no one's surprise, considering that physical touch was his love language, nodded. “I’m comfortable, but are you?”
It melted your heart that he was considering how comfortable you would be with it and it put you at ease remembering how sweet Felix actually was. “Same.” You breathed.
Hyunjin offered you both a small smile before leaning forward at the foot of the bed. “Okay. Stay where you’re at but turn your bodies just a bit towards each other– yeah, you got it. Could you run your fingers over the top of Felix’s hand?”
You grazed his skin with the lightest of touches, surprised at how warm he was. Click! Click! It occurred to you he wasn’t wearing any gloves despite the cold weather outside. It must have affected his senses, or perhaps the cold in the room, because when you made contact with him he shuddered. “Is everything okay?” You asked him, voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah, sorry.” He murmured. “Just feels nice, is all.”
Before you could even ask what he had meant by that, Hyunjin spoke up. “Can do the same to her?”
You placed your hand on the bed sheet, Felix’s fingers tracing slow, smooth patterns on your hand, nerves going off like fireworks beneath your skin. Click! Click! Click! You fought to keep your breathing under control but when your eyes inadvertently met and two dark brown orbs sparkled in the sunset light, it was more than you could take and you exhaled a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.
“Okay, now run your fingers across his shoulder and down his arm.” The cameraman requested and you followed suit, holding Felix’s eye contact more to keep focused than anything but at the same time not finding the ability to look away from the glittering brown that had been dusted with stars that found their way on his cheeks. There was so much wonder there and your curiosity gorger on it. His lips had parted slightly. It was destroying you.
Just as you suspected, Hyunjin asked Felix to return the favour and when his fingers ghosted across your shoulder, desire pooled deep within your core for him. Click! Click! Every ounce of willpower held you back from pouncing on him right then and there. His touch left a blazing trail in its wake. Click! Click!
“Run your fingers through her hair.” Again the instruction came and Felix lifted the same hand to comb through your locks, grazing your temple. He was trembling. Click! Click! Click! The slow burn below was radian, and he was stoking the flames with his touch, his gaze, those goddamn perfect lips that looked took soft to exist–
A telephone ringing from Hyunjin’s office abruptly interrupted both the photo shoot and your reverie. “Damn, sorry guys, been waiting for this call, gotta take it. Give me a second.” He set the camera on a desk nearby and trotted to his office, shutting the door behind him.
You turned back to Felix who from what you could tell hadn’t taken his eyes off you, seeming all too entranced in the build of sexual tension. Your name fell from his lips in a faint whisper and then his hands were on either side of your face. Every nerve ending in your body grazed the flames, igniting a volatile reaction under your skin that you couldn’t control, couldn’t resist. He held you there for a lingering moment, almost with silent praise, before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.
His kiss was softer, just a gentle brush but your lips soon melted together in a slow dance that doused your internal fire with gasoline. His hands combed back into your hair, holding you as if you were made of glass and with all the care in the world. You scooted closer to him without breaking the kiss until your knees bumped into his folded legs, your hand resting on his calves. He let a stuttered breath out of his nose and it tickled your cheeks.
You deepened the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip. His throat hitched, instinctively you pulled away, worried you had done something wrong, but his eyes told a different story and he leaned into you for another one, this time with unabridged passion as his hands left your hair and skimmed down your lower back pulling you closer to him. His taste was so delightful, a natural sweetness akin to cherries and almost floral, something you would crave long after today. Your hands wrapped around his neck before your fingers netted in the hair at his nape. 
Felix froze against your lips as your eyes darted to the side. Hyunjin had stealthily grabbed his camera while you were distracted. “Not cool, Hyunee.” You chided, playfully.
His guilt was clearly apparent as he bowed his head. “Sorry, you guys were… well, take a look.” He brought the camera over and flipped to the preview screen to show both of you in the last shot.
It was so beautiful you wanted to cry. Hyunjin had captured a perfect moment, Felix’s lips parting against yours, his arms around you and your hands behind his neck. The sheets were gathered around your lower bodies, the sunset cast an otherworldly flow against your skins. You wanted to buy multiple prints of this photograph and put them in random places all over and scream at strangers to simply look at this beautiful artwork. You weren’t being narcissistic, or vain, it could have been anyone in the shot and you would have felt the same way. The eye of a good photographer, it seemed. “Wow…” Was all you could muster, anger dissipating as soon as he came.
Even Felix was moved by the shot. “Wow…” He repeated after you.
“Yeah. I just, I had to get it.” Hyunjin said, his voice low. After a long pause, he finally asked the question that definitely caused a spark to jump through the room. “Do you both want to keep going?”
Felix looked at you, the faintest smirk was all it took to bring your lips crashing back into his, the blaze out of control inside of you and lapping at your insides as you ran your hands up his arms and around his back. He did the same to you, pulling you backwards until you were laying on top of him. His hands skimmed down your back to rest at your hips and you let out a moan escape into his mouth. Hyunjins camera went off at a rapid pace, taking all opportune shots that he could, the shutter clicking along with your laboured breathing, the only two sounds coming through the studio.
It was when Felix’s hands had slipped underneath your shirt that you hesitated and he gave you an earnest look, that do-you-want-me-to-continue look, which caused the two of you to crante your head towards Hyunjin. His photoshoot was about to go off the rails. The expression on his face confirmed he was well aware, a rather knowing look on his face. “You guys can keep going, if you’d like.” He told, suggestion laced within his tone.
Oh, goodness. Hyunjin liked this.
There was no hesitation as Felix pulled your tank top up and over your head, long whips of duvet covers spilled around him as he resumed kissing you. His tongue parted your lips and found yours as you relished the taste of him. You reached back, undoing your bra, Felix;s hands trailing along the newly exposed flesh as you slipped the undergarment out and onto the floor. Your naked torso clung to him and you motioned to flip over until you were beneath him. He gazed down at you, swollen lips, hazy eyes. “You’re so pretty.” He whispered before pulling his shirt off as well. Our fingers tugged gently at the Christian Dior necklace to bring him back down to you. 
A tiny voice in the back of your mind screamed that you had an audience and as Felix made out with you, you peeked through your lids at Hyunjin who was still taking photos though he was obviously enjoying himself more than you had expected. Had he done… this before? Your mind began to wander to very undiscovered territory. You pulled the covers over Felix’s bareback, your hands running up and down the plains of freckled skin. He sighed and you started to feel him, down there, pressing against the heat between your legs. Maybe you should have taken your shorts off.
You reached down to peel them off, taking your underwear with them, blushing at how wet you were. All the slow, delicate touches from earlier had parked you into sensory overload, it surprised how ready you were, without the need for foreplay. Though it didn’t seem to bother Felix one bit, his underwear tenting affirmed he was right there with you. You pulled at his waistband, and immediately reading the signal tugged them off.
Part of you was thankful that Hyunjin couldn’t see what was happening under the covers as you palmed Felix’s stiff cock, the velvet flesh hot and wanting as he inhaled sharply, teeth nipping at your neck as you did so. You smoothed his precume against the head and down the shaft. His appreciative thrust in response sent a hot wave of tingles southwards. You needed him inside of you, and you needed it now. The sound of the shutter going off became more and more infrequent, but your consciousness was far beyond that. Felix was everywhere. It was overwhelming in all the right ways.
Your hands found his hips, pulling them towards yours, locking your thighs around his waist and pressing him right against your slick core. He let out the most amazing moan as he throbbed, twitching against you, he hungered for this as much as you had, it seemed. Felix pushed up slightly, parting your folds with two delicate fingers and dipped the head of his shaft inside of you. Instinctively, you pushed your hips upwards and it brought him deeper within you, until he met you halfway and drove deep inside of you, fully entering you. Your head craned back as you let out a full fledged moan while Felix kept at still, savouring the tightness of your walls. He rested his head in the crook of your neck as he started to move, pulling out in slow strokes and thrusting upward lilts.
Felix fucked you slow and with undiluted passion. Your lips were sore from making out, yet begged for more, each time he kissed you it was as if it were the first kiss, full of longing and desire. He kept the slow rhythm even when he flipped you on your side to face him, hitched your leg over his hips and pushed his pelvis into yours. It felt phenomenal to be connected to him this way,having an audience just made– wait, where was Hyunjin? Come to think of it, you headn’t heard him taking pictures in awhile. You pressed your hand against Felix’s chest, signaling him to pause, now looking around the room.
You located your photographer sitting in an armchair, several feet away, camera idle in one slack hand, his bare, erect cock in the other. He was completely hypnotized, lidded eyes drinking in the scene before him. When he noticed you watching him he froze, reality coming back down as pink blotches blooming on his face. “I— Oh, I mean–” He stammered awkwardly. “You guys are just so– this is so intense…”
Felix kissed your jaw in an attempt to bring you back into the world that you both created underneath the covers, but you were fixated on Hyunjin touching himself. A myriad of fresh inappropriate thoughts came to light and an exciting new scenario formed in your head. You leaned to Felix’s ear, whispering your adulterated suggestion to him, then watching for his reaction. To your surprise the corner of his mouth turned up and he nodded. 
You eased out from underneath Felix, already missing how perfectly he filled you, slinking out of the bed, prowling stark naked and on your toes towards the photographer who sat slowly masturbating in awestruck silence. Your eyes told of the hunger you felt, and Hyunjin would soon be the fresh kill, your meal. You kneeled before him, placing your hands on his legs and holding his gaze as you dug your nails into his thighs. His breath came out in raps and his hand tightened his cock. You pushed his knees apart, taking his hot shaft in your hands, dancing your tongue around the head, never breaking eye contact with him. You breathed through your nose as you took him into your mouth, lapping around the tip, and a hand gently cupping his balls as you started going down on him.
Hyunjin twitched at the sudden assault of your hot and wet mouth blowing his mind. “Oh-oh, fuck…” He whimpered as you sucked the precume straight from the source. You pulled up until only the tip was still in your mouth and ravished it with your tongue. Ever so gently, you grazed it against your teeth, his hips immediately bucking forward, pushing back into your mouth. “Fuck…” He ran a hand through your hair and out of your face, watching your lips stretch around his girth beautifully. From behind you an airy groan escaped from Felix, he was really enjoying the view as well.
Wanting to prevent anyone from feeling left out, you stopped, sliding Hyunjin’s milky cock out of your mouth with a wet “pop” and winked at him. You strode back to the bed to pounce on Felix, who wrapped his arms around you and thrust his tongue into your mouth before rolling onto his back beside you and you beckoned the other man sitting a few feet away from you over. 
The sound of clothes filled the room as he shrugged out of his clothes, joining the two of you on the bed, kissing up your skins and past your knees. You moaned directly into Felix’s mouth. It seemed Hyunjin wanted to return the favour, your mind telling you what a good guy he was for doing so. Blackened, lust filled eyes watched you from below as he drew his tongue down, slipping it between your sensitive folds, tasing you, lapping greedily at your wetness. Your hand combed through his hair, now shortened you noticed, as he sucked hard on your clit. The air rushed out of your lungs at the sudden flicks of his tongue, your thighs trying to become a vice around his head but Hyunjin hooked his arms around them and held them down, spreading you wide to appreciate you with every motion of his lips and tongue. Felix, in turn, began kissing your sternum as he massaged your breasts, eliciting a squeak of pleasure as you watched him intently. Hyunjin lapped at your sex with a fervor you hadn’t imagined possible. Wanting to touch Felix, you reached for his cock, stroking it as he bit the tender skin of your cleavage.
You needed one of these cock, in you, stat. You gently pulled at Hyunjin’s hair causing him to groan as he disconnected from you, flopping over and on his back facing the edge of the bed, shaft standing tall. You crawled on top of him to face him and Felix, you lowered yourself gingerly over his firth, surprised to find that he was thicker despite his length. It stretched you and provided a delightful resistance before you sank down on his entirety. 
When you were fully seated, you began to rock back and forth, making Hyunjin yours. His hands dug into your hips, trying to speed you up but you weren’t having it, not yet, so you swatted them away and held them down against the bed. Felix was watching as you rode Hyunjin into the mattress, pumping his own cock to match the speed of your gyrating, his chest billowing heavily. You locked eyes with him as you clamped down on the man beneath you, who thrusted up into you just as you came down again. The impact made you shudder and you moaned out for him. “Oh, Hyunjin.” Your pleasure drive sigh came. “Please fuck me.”
At your request he numbly broke from your grasp, flipping you onto your knees so you were still face Felix and sheathed himself inside of you from behind. Hyunjin plowed into you, hard, your ass slapping against his lithe but toned abdomen and his hand, finger so nimble and precise, massaging your bundle of nerves. You wanted to come so badly, but you couldn’t leave Felix there to play with himself. You gave him a come hither grin and he scooted forward, placing the tip of his cock on your lips and you eagerly took him in. The way he sighed your name in response was heaven.
You sucked him off as best as you could while Hyunjin continued to speed up approaching orgasm, using the momentum from his thrusts to take Felix in and out of your mouth. You hollowed out your cheeks, relaxing your throat as his hands knotted in your hair, steadying himself on his knees as he bobbed in and out of your mouth. You fought to focus on him, the creeping oblivion tugging at your awareness. Soon you couldn’t resist it any longer, Felix slipping from your mouth and you allowed yourself to be guided by Hyunjin’s actions to where you needed to go, to reach your peak. He pulled you up until your back was flush against his chest and hastened his thrusts, one hand on your breasts, the other pressing down on your clit. 
You felt all your nerve endings explode, walls clamping down on his cock, a loud cry of ecstasy punctuated your peak, your eyes glazed over as stars dotted your vision. Hyunjin slowed his pace as you rode out your release, flexing around him and letting the warmth radiate you. You eased him out of you, nearly flopping on top of Felix, who was glad to have you back and decorate your jawline with kisses. 
He sat up, pulling you into his lap, guiding his hot length inside of you. “Ahh, fuck, you feel amazing.” He panted as you locked your legs around his back. Your inner walls quivered both from the aftershock of orgasm and at how rock-hard he was. His mouth found yours again and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he thrust upwards. Hyunjin shuffled to your side as you took him in your hands, still slick from fucking you, and you stroked him with a firm grip. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as you kept going, inching him closer to coming as Felix’s mouth found purchase at your neck, sucking, biting, leaving marks on the delicate skin. 
“I’m gonna–” Hyunjin stuttered out, words not being able to form as your hand was replaced with your mouth, sucking him hard and your tongue drawing frantic patterns around him. Felix, being as kind as he was, slowed his pace so that you could focus and moments later, Hyunjin threw his head back, jutting forward as he came in your mouth, the hot stream hitting your throat as you swallowed him, sucking him clean. You held it there, letting the twitching slow before pulling up and releasing him. He leaned in, giving you an appreciative kiss with lots of tongue, no doubt himself on your lips. 
Felix started up again just as you broke the kiss, his mouth nipping at your ear, voice husky and low as he spoke. “Can I fill you? I really want to, but only if you let me.”
His words cranked your arousal into overdrive, if that was even possible, as you clung to Felix greedily as he fucked you, your bodies slick with persiration, hitting all the right spots and never letting you falter off of him. Hyunjin laid back on the bed, enjoying the finale, a satisfied grin on his flushed face. Another orgasm was on the brink and you arched your back, calling to the man that was inside of you. “Felix, I’m close…”
“Cum for me.” He purred in your ear.
It was more than you could take, mere seconds later your mind shattered as you climaxed a second time, coming down on Felix hard. He joined you in pleasure, ecstasy taking over, as he inhaled sharply through his teeth and spilled his release inside of you. His head leaned back, eyes closed, before coming to rest his forehead against yours. He was so gorgeous in his post-coital bliss. You wished you could hold onto this moment forever…
Your head snapped towards the sound, a stark naked, semi-hard Hyunjin was pointing the camera your way. You were still quite drunk on your orgasm, not having the energy to protest as you groaned. “Not exactly the time for that, Hyunee.”
He climbed back on the bed just as you slid off Felix’s lap and switched back to the preview screen, handing you the camera without a word. Hyunjin had caught the exact moment and your heart swelled. It was a close up of your faces, foreheads pressed together, cheeks flush and sex styled hair on both of you. It was perfection, possibly better than the precious secretive snap he had gotten before. “I think you found your calling.”
He pulled his pants on and chuckled. “What? Doing it with my subjects or taking pictures of them getting it on?”
“Either or.” You told, blissed out smile on your face as you shrugged. “I can vouch for both.” You craned your neck back to look at Felix, who was stroking your arm, still laxed out. “So, how was your first photoshoot?”
He gave you a rather soft smile, one that reached the corners of his eyes and almost made every freckle disappear from his cheeks, then it soon turned into a smirk as he called over your shoulder to ask his other friend something. “How many photographs can fit in your camera?” He asked.
“A few hundred. Why do you ask?” Though it seemed that Hyunjin already knew what he was saying, as the same smirk was not plastered on the other man’s face.
Felix let out a snicker, winking at you and causing your pulse to accelerate. “How many photos did you take today?”
Pushing the buttons, Hyunjin tilted his head at him. “Just shy of 150.”
Felix turned his attention to you, leaning in closer. “Well, looks like my first photoshoot isn’t over, just yet.” As he said this he beckoned Hyunjin to come closer to the both of you, Hyunjin allowing the pants he was putting on, to drop to the floor again. “Gotta fill up all the memory space so Hyunjin has something to work with after all.”
You wanted to argue, tell them that this was just about enough but as plush lips found your skin, your retort turned into a moan, calling out to both of them as you heard that infamous click of the camera. 
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writerpetals · 1 day
the ghost and the flower | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
a/n: so this story is inspired by Simon “Ghost” Riley, but it’s not ACTUALLY him obviously because I write optional main character stories so you can picture anyone, and this plot wouldn’t make sense for his character anyway (but i’m the writer i make the rules lol). It’s easy to picture him if you want, but you can picture someone else, too. Just keep note this story is about a big, strong special ops soldier with a monster dick (because I wanted to write about a monster dick) so yeah :’)
w: enemies to lovers, they hate each other and fight a lot, minor primal play kink, major mask kink LOL, a little bit of military/special ops talk (i don’t know shit about military rankings but i did my best hehe), mention of guns and knives, controlling mmc, a little possessive, a little jealousy, unprotected sex, alcohol and being under the influence, lots of dirty things done in a mask and gloves... oh and this story is 20k words lol
[. playlist for story that helped me write .]
“I want you to know how much I hate this.” Your eyes narrow as you stare down your father’s expression, serious as ever, hoping he’s joking when he says the military brute standing next to you is in charge of you until further notice. Your father, the commander, remains stoic behind his office desk. “This has got to be a joke…”
You side eye your supposed bodyguard as he towers over you. He doesn’t look your way or even pretend to care about the situation. Not like it would matter considering you can’t even see his face or body in the protective gear he adorns. A balaclava mask covers everything on his face but his eyes, a white painted skull covering most of the fabric. The hood over his head hides his hair and ears, the rest of him covered by all black tactical equipment, but it doesn’t hide the fact that he's definitely strong, and big, and a little scary.
“No joke, sweetheart,” your father sighs, and you turn your attention back to him. “You know with my line of work and the investigations I do things can get risky for you. This is my only choice until we wrap up this case. Now that’s all I’m going to say about it. The lieutenant here is going to keep you out of harm’s way. That’s all.”
“Ugh,” you stomp your foot and huff. “And with my line of work, I have to travel all over the world at a moment’s notice so tell me how I can do that with this…”
You turn to the intimidating Lieutenant next to you, finally seeing his eyes peer down at you. He says not a word.
“...man hovering over me?” His cheek puffs out a little, as if he’s smirking under that creepy skull mask of his. You don’t have time to think anything of it. Not with the rage coursing through you. You’ve worked so hard to become the pop artist you are today. You’ve just released one of the best selling records in your country. You have a tour to plan, TV shows to appear on, interviews, fan meetings. Not to mention rehearsals and vocal practice. You can’t hide away just because your father decided to make his career out of taking down the worst criminals in the world. “I don’t need protection. I need to make music and meet with my fans. That’s all I’ve ever cared about.”
"Your little music thing can wait, alright?" Your father dismisses you like he always has. You know he's never cared much for your music, too busy catching the bad guys. He's never been to a concert because he's always in another country. Maybe he's never even listened to a song you wrote, but he definitely makes time to scoff at the outfits you've planned out or the current actor or singer you're having a night out with.
"My little music thing?" His words cut you deep even though you should be used to it by now.
“Commander….” The brute finally speaks, his deep voice taking you by surprise at your attention jerks toward him. “Am I really suited for this? No disrespect, but aren’t I a little… overqualified to be some pop star’s bodyguard?”
“Ugh!” Your eyes narrow, but neither man pays you any attention. "He doesn't even want to be doing this! Can't I just hire a team like a normal celebrity?" You grow more offended by the second. Heat practically radiates off your body at the two of them disregarding you.
“You know why you’re in this position Lieutenant.” Your father’s voice grows stern, disappointed even. He pays no mind to your offer of hiring your own bodyguards. At least this way you would have more control. “Allow me to remind you of the last mission you went off schedule for just because of that damn temper of yours.”
“I had a hunch.”
“You have anger inside you and you needed someone to take it out on.” Your father slams his fist on his desk, rattling the pens and causing a picture of you when you were younger to fall to the side. You jump back, but the soldier next to you doesn't move an inch. Maybe he's used to your father's outbursts. “You risked everyone on your team. So now this is your task until further notice. Keep my daughter safe. No one lays a hand on her. She will be under your strict supervision. Got it?”
It takes a full ten seconds before another word is spoken. You see the Lieutenant's jaw tighten under the mask. Then the tension leaves his body. “Affirmative, commander.”
The reality still hasn't sunk in yet on the way to your place. Your father insisted his duties begin immediately. Now he steers a borrowed SUV with the windows blacked out for extra protection after putting your address into the GPS. Clearly the soldier has done his research on you. Maybe he was only at the meeting with your father to try to convince him this is a terrible idea. You wish he would have tried harder. You don't need protection. You need to live your life. How can you do that with this stranger watching you at all times?
"What's with the mask?" You question while in the passenger seat scrolling through your phone. "What happened at your last mission? Why did you freak out?" You don't want to sound too interested in him, but you're annoyed at the fact you have to even be near him. You don't know him, can't even see his face. All you know he's a big, strong soldier with anger issues. Did your father really think this through?
"That's classified." His short reply in a deep, yet aggravated and cold tone makes you roll your eyes.
"Classified?" You set your phone down in your lap and shake your head. "What is? The mask thing or the mission thing?"
"Both." You grow more irritated every time he speaks.
"Do you always talk to women like this?" You narrow your eyes as you ask, looking at him finally. He keeps his focus on the road. If you weren't asking questions, he would probably forget you were there.
"You're not a woman to me, you're a mission," He says, sending a wave of anger through your body to fill your chest. "Best to remember that."
"So unbelievably charming," you retort with a huff. "I bet the ladies are lining up for a chance with you."
You want to get under his skin as much as he's getting under your own, but he doesn't so much as roll an eye or huff a breath. He doesn't care at all. Maybe he thinks if he stays quiet long enough you'll just disappear.
"Not much of a talker, huh?" You ask, turning in your seat to look, hoping he would at least glance your way. "Or is that not part of the mission?"
Finally his eyes meet your own for a split second. Then back to the road. It's clear he's not going to respond. It’s a long enough glance to see something deeper there. It’s not that he’s annoyed, or you’re getting under his skin. He looks faraway. Lost and lonely.
No, no, that's crazy. You’re not going to instantly feel sorry for him. Not after being forced into this situation.
This is going to be so fun, you think.
When the two of you arrive at the parking garage to your condo, he grabs a bag out of the back of the SUV while you grab your things upfront.
"Pack lightly, Lieutenant?" You tease with a bitter edge to your tone. You aren't sure why every second being around him makes you want to make every second of his miserable. Maybe to make him drop his mission and you altogether.
"I have what I need," is all he says as he reaches to close the back door. When he does, his leather jacket rises for you to see the gun in its holster at his waist.
"Wait, you can't bring that thing in my home!" You step closer, pointing at his waist.
"What?" He freezes, then looks down to where you're pointing and back up. "My gun or something else?"
If you were in any other situation you would appreciate a good dick joke, but it only makes you angry again. You’re aware he’s probably not even joking. He just wants to piss you off.
"The gun, obviously," you reply with a tightened jaw. "That's dangerous. What if it goes off? What if—"
"Trust me," He interrupts, stepping forward to where you have to look up to match his eyes, "I know what I'm doing. You don't have to worry about that, sweetheart."
For a split-second your breath becomes trapped in your throat. He's bigger than you realized earlier. He's hovering over you. He's calling you pet names you would normally find charming or cute. Coming from him it sounds like a promise and a threat. You can't explain the pressure in your chest or the shaking in your knees in the moment, so you blink a few times to rid yourself of any oncoming thoughts about what he just said.
"I don't trust you," you whisper. His eyes flinch for a moment. Is he actually surprised by that? How could you trust a stranger?
He says nothing, but he doesn't back down, so you do it for him and turn on your heel. Together the two of you make it up to your condo. You take your shoes off at the front door, looking down at his big, black boots hoping he will do the same. He doesn't make an attempt at all. You'll be mopping your floors in no time. Another thing to annoy you.
"Here's your room." You guide him toward the back of the condo, past the spacious kitchen and connecting living room, and even the guest bathroom to reach a smaller bedroom. There's only a full size bed on the far wall. A dresser you didn't want, but didn't want to get rid of, and a closet on the opposite wall. You didn't bother decorating or adding your personal touch when you just bought the place and haven't been home much considering your schedules. "Hopefully the bed isn't too small," you say, before turning to walk away, but you stop.
"Problem?" he asks, tossing his bag on the bed and not even bothering to look at you.
"Are you going to be with me all the time?"
He says yes without hesitation.
"My schedules? Meetings with my team?"
He turns around to look at you. "Yes."
"When I'm sleeping?" Your heart begins to race.
"If I need to."
"When I'm showering?" Warmth begins to swirl in your stomach.
Behind the balaclava, you notice his brow raise. "Are you asking or hoping?"
You narrow your eyes. "I, w… ugh!"
Good one, you think as you turn around and storm off. This is going to be a nightmare.
Having the soldier in your house is even more awkward than you imagined. He's always lurking around you, answering phone calls with code names and keywords you don't get, and flipping through folders of what you assume to be other cases while keeping his eyes on you. If you're in your music studio that was once a small office from the previous owners of the condo, he's sitting by the door while you scribble in your notebooks while sitting at a piano and recording voice memos of melodies you don't want to forget. You notice his eyes on you every time the sweet and soft humming fills the room. It's hard not to feel hot beneath his gaze. He's still so intimidating, but hopefully you've shown him you can stand up to him and refuse to be a helpless little girl that needs protecting. It’s all so ridiculous, anyway.
When you're on the phone with your assistant Marjorie, he keeps his ear trained on your words and eyes focused on you. You give him as many dirty looks as you can, but he doesn't seem fazed. It's clear he takes his mission seriously. Then the thought of you only being a mission gets to you and annoys you all over again. How could your father put you in this position? He’s never cared about it with his job before, but you quickly make the connection that the more your career takes off, the more eyes will be on you. Even those eyes of dangerous men that can link you to your father.
Still, you think it’s all so unnecessary. You’re a private person for the most part. How would dangerous men even know where to find you?
You roll your eyes and shake your head of useless thoughts, not wanting to be late for your date that night with Elijah. You’ve been seeing him for a few months casually, but lately have grown to really, really like him, and soon you know the tabloids will be buzzing with the rumors of the two of you being an item.
At least, that’s what he’s mentioned to you from time to time. He’s a music producer that landed a highly valued position at his father’s record label early on. Safe to say, he’s a big deal, and handsome as hell. You don’t care about how this could affect your career either way. You just enjoy being with him.
You put the finishing touches on your make-up and slip on your black dress before making your way to your front door to grab your purse and heels.
However, the Lieutenant is there in a flash right along with you. He’s staring down at you behind his mask, but you can see his brow raised.
“Going somewhere?”
“Yes, actually,” you reply, not even bothering to look at him again while slipping your heels on. “I have a date. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“A date? You should have told me. I’d wear something more appropriate.”
You stop in an instant. There’s no way this man thinks he’s going to accompany you on a date like a parent. You turn to look at him, seeing him in a thin black t-shirt to match his cargo pants and boots, but now you notice one strong, tattooed arm folding across his chest with the other.
“Um, no! No way!” You shake your head and toss your hands in the air. “I don’t need protection while on a date. It’s personal and plus, Elijah will be there!” No, of course Elijah isn’t as big and scary as the Lieutenant, and obviously doesn’t have the combat training, but he would still protect you. You hope so, anyway.
“Who the fuck is Elijah? Any my mission—”
“Yeah, I know I’m just a mission to you, but you can’t possibly think I can show up to a date with someone like you and expect him to be okay with it.”
“Don’t give a fuck what he’s okay with. My job is to keep my eye on you. So either we’re going on this date with loverboy together, or you’re not going at all.” He steps closer, looking down at you as if to make his point more clear.
Heat burns inside of your chest, raging with your jaw clenched at how impossible this man was being. “I don’t have to listen to you. I don’t care what your mission is!”
“That may be so, sweetheart, but I will do my job whether you want me to or not.”
“Why? Because my father says so?” You narrow your eyes, stepping to him to show you aren’t afraid and you can take the challenge. “Are you really that much of a lapdog? My father says jump and you say how high? Is that what all you brainwashed stupid special ops soldiers do?”
He doesn’t say a word. You grow even more angry. You don’t even mean the things you tell him. You just want him to get as upset as he’s making you. There’s no way you can bring him to the date, and you don’t want to cancel on Elijah. He’s been out of town and you haven’t seen him in weeks. You certainly just can’t ask him to come here with the Lieutenant lurking in every corner of the room you’re in. What would he think? He’d certainly be jealous, knowing the Lieutenant is bigger, stronger, scarier… more intimating…
No, you tell yourself. What are you even thinking?
“Fine,” you whisper, clenching your jaw before finally tearing your gaze away. “I won’t go.”
You can’t believe your life has come to this…
“Sweetie, I have some bad news.”
Your assistant Marjorie unexpectedly shows up at your home the next day. She looks stressed. Her brown hair in messy curls around her face. The glasses on her eyes a little crooked. There’s bags under them, too. She’s clutching a folder full of papers to her chest.
“I’ve been working with the publicist since early this morning. Did, uh, something happen with Elijah?”
You frown as you let her in, stepping to the side and closing the door behind her. “What’s wrong?” Together, you make your way to your living room as she spreads the papers across the coffee table. Neither of you even noticed him sitting there, arms crossed, brow raised as he stares at the two of you. He looks over Marjorie and isn’t concerned in the slightest with her. Obviously she’s not a threat so he doesn’t even more, or make an attempt to speak.
However, the moment Marjorie spots him, she lets out a little shriek and jumps back, placing a hand on her chest. “Who—” She gives you a concerned look before she eyes the big guy out of the corner of her eye. “—is that?” Her voice trembles. It’s clear he’s intimidated her at first glance. You understand completely. If you weren’t so angry at your situation, you would feel the same.
“Sorry, I should have told you.” You place a hand on her arm to sit down on the couch with her. He still doesn’t speak even though it’s obvious to him she’s scared. “It… has to do with my father.”
That’s all that needs to be said. She knows your story. Knows you grew up around a commander that spent more of his life on work than spending time with his daughter, leaving you to be with nannies and play with maids. She knows all about the line of work he’s in, but you’ve always told her it doesn’t matter to you. It will never interfere with your dream… until now.
“I see,” is all she says. She gulps and smooths her hands over your skirt while straightening her back.
“What is the bad news, Marjorie? And what about Elijah?” You sneak a side glance at him while you ask. He seems more attentive now that your soon-to-be boyfriend’s name was mentioned.
“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, hon’.” She opens the folder with all the papers. “I’m sorry. I know you really liked him.”
You glance down at the mock-ups of soon-to-be published articles across the table. Articles showing pictures of Elijah out with someone else. Headlines saying you are old news to the famous producer. A quote describing how Elijah working with you won’t be in his future. He’s just not much of a fan of your music, anyway. The text plastered over the image of him with an arm around a model’s waist. The same model that is friends with pop stars more popular than you. Of course he was only thinking about a paycheck.
“I was working so hard to not get them published. They were demanding outrageous things of you in return to not run the story. They wanted to know more about your father and family history in an exclusive interview. I knew you couldn’t do that…”
“No…” Your heart sinks. A heaviness settles in its place. You really did like ELijah. He told you plenty of times how much he loves your music and wants to work with you on your next project. How quickly men change their mind when it benefits them.
You look over to the Lieutenant as Marjorie goes on about things you can do to make you look better in this situation. You don’t listen. You focus on his eyes reading the headlines before they rise to meet your own. You want to blame him and be angry at him, but your heart hurts too much in the moment for anything else.
It’s not really his fault, you realize. Elijah is clearly a snake and dates whoever helps his career. You would have found that out eventually.
“But don’t worry,” Marjorie interrupts your thoughts. “You still have the award nominations coming up. A tour to plan. Fan meetings and interviews. Don’t let this get you down, sweetie.”
“I guess so,” you reply, taking a deep breath and a slow exhale. Why do you feel like crying? He wasn’t even your boyfriend, yet. Though, it doesn’t feel good to be pushed aside so quickly. For once you would love to actually be important to someone…
“So, let’s talk tour…”
Marjorie pulls a tablet out of her bag and quickly skims through possible costume designs and sets for your upcoming tour. You’re barely paying attention. You try to look over all the glittery designs and expensive props your label wants to use. She tells you they’re looking for stadiums to book across the country, but you can hardly be excited about this being your biggest tour yet. You’re barely paying attention, hurt bubbling inside of you, mixing with anger as the realization you were cast aside sets in. How could he?
Your attention is quickly drawn to the other side of the room as the impossibly silent shadow of a Lieutenant finally makes a noise. He sighs… long and drawn out… like a ghost just always lurking until he wants himself to be heard.
“Are you bored?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “You know you don’t have to sit here, right? You can fuck right off somewhere else.” You speak with more venom in the words than you actually mean. Maybe you’re just redirecting your hurt and anger to someone that can take it, because he doesn’t care about you either.
“Oh, sorry, pop princess,” he remarks, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. Marjorie jerks her head up to look at him, eyes going wide. Your nostrils flare at his words. “Can’t help it I’m not into this little flowery, pretty music and glittery Barbie outfits with all the flowery shit on them.”
What he says makes you rage. You’ve never wanted to slap someone more. “Right, you’re into fighting and being a fucking dick.” Marjorie gasps next to you. You’ve never been so hateful around her. Of course she’s shocked, but you’re pissed. And heartbroken, but the dumb brute doesn’t need to know that. You can give it right back to him. “Maybe you just lack taste.”
His cheek thickens as if he’s smirking beneath the mask. “Trust me, little flower, you’re not my type.”
You huff, opening your mouth to speak some vicious retort, but Marjorie beats you to it.
“Your loss,” she says quietly, looking between the two of you, then down at her lap where the outfits are still on the screen. “She’s amazing, talented, and works so hard. Her… her fans adore her.” Her voice is still shaking, but she wants to stick up for you. The anger settles a little. You know Marjorie will always be on your side, and it makes the situation a little easier to handle.
Then suddenly his little nickname hits you like a ton of bricks. Little flower? Who does he think he is?
“Little flower?” You glare at him, trying not to let the words he says affect you. “Give me a break…”
You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to Marjorie, finally putting your focus on your work and nothing more. You don’t need men distracting you any longer. Your father never caring about your music and still thinking you’re a little girl. Elijah dumping you once he saw a better opportunity for his career. Now this moody, grouchy soldier saying your music is terrible. You don’t need any of it. You’ve worked too hard to let men like them get to you now.
“Show me that super sparkly out fits a few pages back, Marj.”
You won’t be hurt by any of them.
“You can wait in the car.”
You hop out of the SUV after he pulls up to your label’s office building. You have too many meetings with execs today, too many things to plan, too much to worry about and the last thing you need is him drawing attention or cutting in with his snarky remarks. This is too important to you to ruin by being distracted and angry.
He follows you just as quickly as you try to outpace him while walking into the building. The girl at the front desk smiles at you before dropping her expression the moment she lays eyes on him. See? Distracting. Annoying. In your way. You don’t need it.
“If I did that, flower, I’d be disregarding my mission, wouldn’t I?” he replies as you stand to wait for the elevator to take you up to the floor where the meetings will be held.
“Oh, like you did last time you went berserk commando and risked your mission to get us both in this situation?” You huff, and you swear you hear him growl beneath the mask. He doesn’t like when you bring up his mistakes. Not at all. You smile to yourself on the inside, until you realize he’s still calling you the dumb little nickname. “And what’s with calling me that? Relax.”
He growls again. Not even trying to hide it. “Trust me, little flower, you would be in this situation regardless, and you’d much rather me than some of the other guys I’ve been with in the field.” You step onto the elevator with him right behind you. You scoff at his response while you start to rise to the top floor.
“Oh, right,” you say, turning to him to glare for a few moments. He doesn’t give you the satisfaction of a glance in return. “Because you’re just so fun to be around.” You’re already in a bad moon. Funny how quickly your day can be ruined by him.
“That’s nice of you to say, flower.” The words rip right through you, sending you from annoyed to angry. It makes it even worse because now there's a hint of humor in his tone. He likes making you this angry. That pisses you off more.
“Sure, because you’re obviously so kind and sweet and caring and compassionate and totally not a pain in my ass,” you say through your teeth just as the elevator dings and the doors open. There stands Marjorie along with the men that are attending your meeting. They’re staring at the two of you. The Lieutenant looks straight ahead, not bothered at all. You’re still glaring at him, hoping to burn a hole straight through his thick skull.
Marjorie clears her throat. Your attention turns toward her, finally realizing the situation. He chuckles softly next to you.
God, do you wish you could disappear.
Award season comes around once a year, and this year is the biggest one for you yet. You eagerly wait by your phone for Marjorie to call to give you the news if you’ve been nominated or not, and when she calls to say you’ve been nominated in five categories at the most prestigious award show in your country, you can only scream into the receiver.
As you’re jumping up and down on your bed due to the huge news, screaming in Marjorie’s ear as she screams back due to being so happy your hard work is paying off, the Lieutenant rushes into your room. Suddenly, he grabs your body and pulls you to him, making you drop your phone in the process.
“What’s wrong?” he frantically asks. “Are you okay?”
“What? Yes,” you say, pushing him away and picking up your phone. “Marjorie, let me call you back.” Your voice is full of excitement as you hang up the phone. You can hardly contain yourself. Not even the big soldier can ruin your day today. Finally, the industry is taking note of all your success. Finally it’s all coming together for you.
“Are you sure? You screamed rather loud. I thought someone broke in.” While he speaks, he scans your body over, from head to toe, to make sure you aren’t lying. He even runs his gloves hands along your arms, genuinely looking concerned for your safety as he inspects.
“Yes, I’m fine,” you giggle, suddenly in such a good mood you don’t even want to fight or argue with him. “Sorry, I got some really great news. I need to call my father.” More than anything, you’ve always wanted to call him up with some great news or terrific achievement so he will finally take your career seriously. For so long, you’ve been waiting for this moment. You can hardly contain yourself as you click on your father’s contact to press dial.
The Lieutenant understands, nodding and taking a step back to fold his arms over his chest. He stays put in your bedroom, but you don’t even pay attention to him. You put the phone on speaker while you begin scrolling the news articles already talking about your nominations.
“Hello? Commander speaking.”
“Dad, it’s me,” you laugh, smiling wide to yourself. Of course he's only focusing on work, answering the phone without even looking to see who was calling.
“Everything okay?” He’s speaking in sharp, short words. Quick to get to the point.
“Yes! Everything is great, actually!”
“Good, good. Sweetheart, I’m really busy right now…”
“But dad—”
“Can we talk later?” There’s commotion on the other end, hearing shuffling and mumbled voices. He’s not paying attention to you at all.
“Dad, I got nominated for five awards today and I just—”
“That’s great, sweetheart,” he interrupts. “I really have to get going. Talk soon, okay?”
The phone hangs up. The excitement drains from your features. You drop your hands in your lap, staring down at his contact picture. Suddenly there’s a heaviness in your chest. It’s tight, gripping hold of your heart. What were you even happy about to begin with? You fight with yourself to keep the tears filling your lids from falling. Blinking, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.
“Five awards, eh?” Suddenly, his voice fills your ears, reminding you he’s still standing there. Great, now you have an audience once again to your heartbreak. Except this time, you have no fight in you at all.
“It’s stupid to care so much…”
“Don’t say that, little flower,” he says, earning your tear-filled eyes on him. “The only awards people like me ever get are ones when we’re already dead. It’s not stupid to be appreciated for working hard. Don’t count yourself short.”
His words take you by surprise. Raising your brows, you chuckle a tired sound and shrug. “Weren’t you just insulting my music?”
“Don’t be like that.” Suddenly, he steps toward you to take a seat on your bed next to you. His weight shifts the mattress. He’s so big next to you like this. “I didn’t really mean what I said, flower. And… I feel bad for saying it. I know you’re angry too about being in this situation. I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that. Plus, I’ve seen the way you’ve handled those bosses in your meetings. You’re tough and you know what you want.”
At that, you release a genuine laugh. “Yeah, I hate being ran over. I want complete creative control. I have a vision, you know?”
“A sparkly one.”
Now you’re giggling. “Yes, that does include sparkles, sometimes.” He chuckles. Genuinely. Your heart feels a little warmer. The heaviness in your chest feels lighter. You realize he’s trying to make you feel better. You appreciate the gesture. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”
“Oh, is that what I was doing?” He looks down at you, and you look up at him through your lashes. “I thought we just advanced to a new level of bickering and being annoyed with one another.”
You can’t help but to laugh. You realize he can be kind of sweet if he wants.
“I just want to be taken seriously.” You tell him with a sigh. “My father sees me as a little girl that needs protecting. Elijah saw me as an opportunity for his career. The execs at the label try to make up their mind for me until I stick up for myself. Hell, even you just see me as a mission.”
He blinks a few times, taking in your words. Then he sighs. “I didn’t mean that, either, flower.”
For the first time, you’re glad he’s there with you.
Even though you and him shared a sweet moment when you were hurt over your father’s dismissive attitude of you, it still irritates you when you can’t go out and do what you want. You don’t want to be careless, of course,  but you just don’t see the need in being watching 24/7 like a hawk.
Especially when you got word Elijah will be attending a party, and you want to show up looking good enough to regret leaving. You have your skin tight, red dress already on, putting the finishing touches on your lipstick as you play in your mind the perfect scenario of him begging for you back. The dress cuts low into your cleavage, and rises high on your thighs. With some killer heels, he’ll be on the floor in no time.
If only there wasn’t a grumpy soldier in the way of you and the front door.
“I don’t care if you have a mission to do,” you tell him as he blocks your way, “this is important to me and I need you to get out of my way. I can’t be a prisoner forever.”
He looks you up and down, spending an extra second on your chest, before meeting your eyes. His gaze makes you hot in the moment, and now you’re unsure if it’s actually anger. “Clearly it’s important, but important or not, flower, I can’t let you out of my sight if you leave this house.” He folds his arms over his chest. “And you’re not a prisoner forever. You’re being guarded until it’s safe for you. That’s all.”
“Well, I feel like a grounded teenager.” You roll your eyes at him, folding your own arms over your chest with your heels in hand.
“Acting like it, too.”
“Fuck you.” Just when you thought the two of you were going to get along, too…
“If that’s what you want, flower.” Without warning, the big brute picks you up with ease and tosses your body over his shoulder.
“Hey, what—” You start kicking and punching his back, but he isn’t fazed at all. “Put me down!” You’re thrashing all over his shoulder, you’re not even paying attention to him bringing you to your bedroom. Without a word, he puts you down on the floor in the middle of the room before backing away.
“Want to act like a spoiled brat, you’ll get treated like it,” is all he says, stepping out of your room and closing the door behind him.
“I’m an adult!” you yell through the door. “A grown woman! I can do what I want!”
Clearly, you can’t. When you try to open the door, it doesn’t even budge an inch in your direction. But clearly he didn’t think this through. You still have your heels in your hand. You can just go out the escape ladder from your window. You sneakily tiptoe towards the window, pushing aside a few bottles of purfume that were resting on a dresser to budge the lock.
However, it doesn’t take long for him to hear you and catch on to what you’re attempting. He is a specially trained operator, after all. He bursts open the door just as you crack the window, barrelling over to you without thinking to grab you by the waist. You release a squeal when he practically tosses your body onto the bed.
Not thinking again, clearly, because now you have an exit through the bedroom door. You make an attempt to scurry across the satin sheets of your bed, but he’s close behind. Another scream echoes into the room as he grips your bare ankle, pulling you back across the bed with ease before you can even think straight. Your heels go flying across the room as he manhandles your body and pulls you all the way to him.
“An adult woman trying to sneak out of her bedroom window?” he asks, mocking you while pressing his body between your thighs, putting weight over you so you can’t escape.
“An adult woman shouldn’t need to,” you correct him. He grabs both wrists, pinning them above your head and pushing himself closer to you. You feel all of him against you. His broad chest pressing into yours heaving from trying to catch your breath. His hard stomach over your body. His hips parting your thighs. Something hard presses against your panties. A shiver races through your body, heat following to fill every inch of skin. “Let. Me. Go.”
“Is my little flower going to behave if I do?” His tone mocks you with the question. You stare into his eyes, the only part of him you can actually see. He stares right into your own, not backing down. You don’t want to back down, either. You're burning hot with rage at the control he’s placed you under. You want to fight him, hit him, yell and scream at him. But your body… your body loves how weak it feels beneath him. You hate it. Hate how much he’s affecting you in the moment. Warmth swells between your thighs. You tremble beneath him. You feel so betrayed by both him and yourself.
“No,” you finally reply, clenching your jaw, narrowing your eyes. If looks could kill…
“Then I can do this all night, flower.” His tone darkens as he draws his face closer. So much closer. The closest to him you’ve been. Your breath catches in your throat. “As long as it takes for you to be a good girl.”
Your eyelids flutter. God, why was his voice suddenly going straight between your thighs? You shudder, knowing you would find your panties wet if you were to look. You’re so hot beneath him. You can’t stand it.
You lick your lips and beg your hips not to roll against him. “Let me go,” you repeat.
He raises a brow beneath that damn mask of his. “Are you going to try to run from me again?”
You know there’s no use fighting him. He’s bigger, stronger, and tougher than you. He made that clear. You don’t want to give in to him. You want to tough this out just to see how long he can last, but you aren’t convinced your body will agree the longer you lay in this position with him.
“Getting all dolled up to go make a boy jealous, huh?” he begins to taunt you again, just to see you worked up. It’s what the two of you do best.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You push yourself against him, your hips bucking into his as you try to yank your hands away from his grip. He only presses into your harder, and you realize yes, he is definitely affected by the position the same way you are. He’s thick and hard and you feel it between your thighs. The fact has you burning up. His body wants you, too, even if his words are vicious.
“You deserve better than to chase some dickhead that can’t see what he has right in front of him.” If you weren’t so angry at him, you would almost be touched. All you see is red in the moment, however. You want to fight him. You want him to feel bad… if his cold heart even can.
“Like you would know,” you spit back. “I’m just a mission to you, remember?”
“I told you I didn’t mean that.”
“Really? You’re sure as hell acting like it.” You struggle again to get loose. He tightens his grip, leaning into your body so his mouth is right next to your ear.
“I have a mission to protect you, flower,” he begins, sending a chill down your spine as he speaks his dark, tempting words, “but believe me, if I didn’t, there’s not a single thing here I wouldn’t worship on you and I’d take nothing for granted. There’d be no mistake you belonged to me.”
With that, he finally releases your body from his hold. He stands straight, peering down at you as if his eyes are promising the things his words said. You quickly straighten out your dress over your thighs as you settle on your knees. For a moment, neither of you speak. Your breath is heavy. There’s tension in his body, tension filling the entire room.
You wait for his next move, not knowing what to do or say or even think. His words caught you off guard. You thought he hated you, and hated being around you. You were surely convinced you hated him in return, but with the way your body reacted, and now your heart drumming away in your chest over what he said, you aren’t sure. Did he really care about you? Did being so close to you have such an effect on him as well?
He says nothing, only turning toward your window to close and lock it in place, before walking toward your door. “Good night, little flower.” Before reaching the hall, he turns to look at you over his shoulder. “I trust you won’t be careless and try to sneak out again. I won’t let you off the hook so easily, next time.”
He leaves, and your body is hot all over again. His words which used to induce rage inside of you now begin to make you quiver. Could you just be taking them the wrong way? Does he really mean the hint of temptation you’re getting from each syllable?
You aren’t sure. All you can do is run to shut your bedroom door before he comes back to drive you crazy once again. Or before you do something stupid, like try to sneak out just to test him because you’re dying to see what he would actually do now. Your body begins to crave it, no matter how much you try to fight the feeling.
What started this all anyway? Finally you remember wanting to make Elijah jealous, but that seems so pointless now. Now all you can think about is what the big, strong Lieutenant would do if you disobeyed him. Something tells you he makes good on his promises, and your body aches at the thought.
Before you can let your thoughts become carried away, you take a hot shower to wash off your makeup and the mistakes you almost made. Maybe all you need is a good night’s sleep. You only hope you can stop thinking about how it felt having his body pressed against you.
After that night, you hate how quiet you are around him. Suddenly there’s tension, and not the rage-inducing kind you’ve grown used to. Anytime you look at him, you can’t help but to outline his muscles beneath the thin t-shirt, study his tattoos and veins along each arm, or wonder how good he is with his hands. He tries to ignore you stealing glances at him, not saying much to you, either. You decide it’s better than way. The other night was too risky. The two of you got too close, and it’s clear both of you were reacting in unfamiliar ways.
Later, Marjorie shows up with a team of a few people to bring a wardrobe for an event you’re scheduled to attend. A movie is premiering with your song as the main track on the soundtrack. You know you have to make an appearance, but lately you’re just not up for it, not wanting to explain why you have a masked man watching over your every move, as well as anyone that gets close to you.
“I don’t know, Marjorie,” you tell her, slipping on a glittery, purple dress with a low-cut V-neck and even lower cut in the back. The sleeves are long enough to reach your wrists, and you have to say it’s beautiful. You think you’ve found the one… if you wanted to actually attend. “I’m not up for premieres and parties.”
“Why not? Is it that scary man out there? Did he do something?” She lowers her glasses while narrowing her eyes. She gives an evil look toward the living room where you told him to wait after guiding the team to your bedroom.
“No,” you lie. It is because of him. And all the tension. And the fact that you don’t want anymore negative press about you. The breakup to a non-boyfriend was hard enough on your image. It’s all anyone wanted to talk about. Anything to get their quick clips and quotes for the news. Elijah absolutely embarrassed you.
Then you remember he will be at the event as well. You don’t want to face him now that you’ve had time to think about it. Trying to sneak out and make him jealous was stupid. He’s not worth it.
The grumpy brute was right about that.
“Then what’s the problem?” she asks, flipping through texts on your phone. “Oh, the designer needs to see you in a few photos and selfies if this is the dress you want to wear. Make sure to tag them on your pages.”
You sigh, leaving your bedroom to find where you left your phone to take a few “getting ready with me” selfies. Remembering you were reading more articles about your award nominations earlier while moping on the couch, you find it in the living room where he still sits, looking over documents in a folder spread over the coffee table.
“I feel overwhelmed lately, Marj.” You grab your phone from the couch next to him. “And I don’t know if I want this dress. It’s gorgeous but I don’t feel gorgeous in it.”
“You’re kidding!” she says, then surprisingly, turns to him to get his attention. “Tell her how good she looks!” As if she realizes her sudden bold behavior in talking to him, she withdraws behind you, pushing you closer so he can get a better look.
He scans over your body in the dress. His eyes linger over your chest for a moment, then travel to your hips, and finally your thighs. Then he makes his way back up, so slowly you’re almost dying inside. He’s not answering. Only taking in the sight of you in more sparkly, skin tight, revealing things.
“You look stunning, flower.” His voice is quiet, as if he only wanted you to hear his reply. It’s deep, too, another level of hidden emotions layered within the syllables and it makes your insides quiver.
From behind, Marjorie whispers, “he’s still calling you that?” Then she giggles, and you can’t help but to smile. Heat floods your cheeks. A few weeks ago you would have been annoyed, but now it seems so natural to hear the nickname.
“So, what event are we attending?” he asks, and you want to be annoyed that he will have to be with you, but somehow you can’t find yourself to be irritated. Maybe it’s better he’s there. He could intimidate anyone talking to you in case they want to pry about your relationship failures.
“A movie premiere tonight, then an after party. Are you wearing that?” You surprise him by not making a big deal of the situation. Looking over him, you realize his usual thin tees and military cargo pants with boots won’t cut it at this event. Regardless of his mask, he’ll stick out like a sore thumb.
“Want me to get dressed up for you, flower?” He raises a brow, knowing from his tone he’s smirking beneath the mask.
“Well, you have to be presentable if you’re going to attend with me.”
He nods, as if it’s another mission to him, quickly reaching for his phone to make a few calls. You can’t worry about what he’s doing, however, when you need to get into makeup and hair before the red carpet rolls out. Marjorie rushes you back to your room where the team starts with their brushes and blow dryers, getting you dressed in full glam within an hour and a half.
When you walk out of your room fully dolled up, you notice him waiting on you with a completely different outfit. Still dressed in all black, he adorns a turtleneck and slacks with his mask and boots. The sleeves are rolled up to show off his tattoos, and you’re sure he has weapons hidden somewhere on his body. Maybe those black, leather boots of his. Either way, you decide it’s not bad. You appreciate the attempt he’s made for you.
“You look nice, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you,” he replies in a quiet voice. “You look beautiful.”
Your heart skips a beat. You try to reason with yourself he’s just being nice, but the butterflies in your stomach wish for something more. For once, he’s actually being kind to you. It makes it so much harder to hate the situation you’re in.
“Are you ready to go?” you ask him as your assistant hands you your bag before helping with slipping on your matching heels.
He nods, holding out his arm for you to take. Smiling, you slip your hand around his bicep, resisting the urge to shudder from how hard his body is. It brings up memories from being so close to him a second before heat washes over your entire body.
How are you going to survive the night?
The movie premiere is less painful than you imagined. No one asks too many questions on the red carpet other than wanting to know who you were wearing that night. No one questions him, either, assuming he’s just another faceless bodyguard to the rich and famous. You’re thankful for that until you get to the afterparty. It’s not your scene, really, but you know you can make good connections with people in the industry. You mingle a bit with a few different crowds. Another pop artist here and there. Even some producers that worked on the soundtrack of the movie.
You feel a little more relaxed, even with the Lieutenant close by. He never gets in your way, and you appreciate the distance he’s giving you. Maybe it could have been like this the whole time, you think. After all, he just wanted to keep you safe. He’s not hovering over you, or making you uncomfortable. But you catch his eye every now and then. Knowing he’s close by actually comforts you.
The night carries on with you getting a few numbers in your phone with people you want to work with in the future. You make a few promises to get to the studio and record sometime soon, so happy you decided to come out.
Only until a familiar voice pulls your attention away from an intriguing conversation with another up and coming singer.
“What is it, Elijah?” You turn to face him, seeing the singer walk away from the corner of your eye. You hope she doesn’t think you’re rude. Maybe if you post the selfie with her you took, saying how sweet she was, she’ll forgive you.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” he says, words slurring a little. He’s tipsy. He’s always more affectionate when he’s tipsy. “I miss you.”
You frown. “Miss me? Didn’t seem like it with your arm around a model.”
“Oh, that was nothing, baby!” He waves a hand in the air dismissively.
“And when you said you didn’t like my music that much? What was that? You talked pretty quickly to the reporters. Most people didn't even know of our relationship.”
“Tabloids being tabloids! You can’t trust them.” He laughs, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. “Let me take you to grab a bite of food. We can catch up, talk this out, alright?”
You roll your eyes, ready to decline when a body presses into you from behind.
“It’s time to go,” the deep, raspy voice of the Lieutenant says. He’s speaking through his teeth. You nod your head, wanting to get away from Elijah and just go home. Your heels hurt and your social energy is completely spent for the night, anyway.
“I have to go, Elijah…”
You try to pull away from him, but Elijah tightens his grip on you. “Who’s this?” He grows defensive. As if he owns you. As if he didn’t break your heart just a few weeks ago.
“Elijah, let me go.”
“No, I want to know—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before the big soldier is stepping to him. “I would back up if I were you.”
“Are you really going to let this guy talk to me like that?” Elijah turns to you as you look between both men. The Lieutenant towers over Elijah, but he’s too tipsy to back down from a fight he obviously wouldn’t win.
“He’s in charge of me,” is all you say, and both men’s attention snap to you. “My safety, I mean. He’s in charge of my safety.” You gulp, heat rushing to your cheeks.
Elijah finally releases the grip he has on you. “Safety? Are you being stalked or something?”
Huffing, you turn to walk away from him. “If you ever cared to get to know me, Elijah, you would know why I need protection.” You can’t even believe you said the words. Never have you admitted that to anyone, but Elijah is pissing you off now. What did you ever see in this guy?
“Hey,” Elijah yells over the music, pride hurt over a sudden rejection he’s not used to. He reaches to grab your wrist, but before anyone can react, the Lieutenant lashes out to grip Elijah’s throat. It happens so fast, like a viper lashing out at prey.
“Touch her again, loverboy, and I promise you that hand will be wishing you hadn’t.”
You’re frozen seeing your almost ex-boyfriend get choked out, struggling to remove himself from such a strong grasp. Eventually, he’s released and you’re being shuffled out of the party before anymore eyes are on the three of you.
On the way home, you’re silent. Your body feels hot. Your head light. What did you just witness? The man next to you showing his power, and while it should scare you just how quickly he put Elijah in his place, your body can’t help but to react. You sneak a glance at him, but you aren’t sure why you’re suddenly so intimidated by him in the best ways. A gloved hand grips the wheel, the muscles on his arms tensing as he drives. He keeps his focus straight. You don’t know if he’s aware of you staring, but now you can’t look away.
His dark, lonely eyes are pinned in the lights ahead. A large, round shoulder hides the bottom of the mask he wears. His turtleneck hugs his chest and stomach tight. Pressing your thighs tight together, your gaze drops to his lap. You remember what it feels like to have him against you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to feel it again in the moment.
You’ve never wanted to admit how attracted to him you are, but there’s no denying it now. Not when you’ve seen how strong he is. How powerful. Intimidating, even. You can’t imagine all the dangerous men he’s helped your father take down.
Big, and strong, and quick… and thick. You have to scream at yourself to stop from imagining what he’d feel like inside of you. It’s not right. Between your thighs begs to differ, though. You feel the heat pooling there. You’re wet. You need him. Not want, need.
“Stare any harder, flower, and I’ll have to pull over.” His deep, raspy voice takes you by surprise and pulls your mind from all the naughty things you’ve been thinking. Blinking a few times, you shake your head to focus in on the present.
“P-Pull over?” You gulp, chest rising slowly and falling even slower. God, the things this man does to you.
“The way you’re lookin’ at me is distracting,” he admits. “Not safe for driving.”
“Oh, sorry…”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, turning his head to meet your eyes, “I never said I didn’t like it.”
As the days go on, you try to ignore the tension between the two of you. It’s hard to ignore how much your body craves him. What was once honest hatred of this man has turned into lust, and even scarier, you begin to actually care about him.
Whether it meant anything to him or not, he stuck up for you against Elijah. When the rest of the world wanted to gossip and get the latest scoop, he made it clear the only thing he cares about was protecting you.
You try to remember that’s just his mission. You’re a mission to him. Even though he said he didn’t mean it, the fact is true. You can’t let yourself get carried away in fantasies of being with him. It would never work.
You spend your time at home, having enough of being in the public eye. You continue to try to write songs to take your mind off of things. He lingers close by, and even with the tension between the two of you, you find his presence relaxing. You feel safe. Even if it’s not real, you feel protected and cared for. You can let yourself indulge in that feeling for at least a little while. No one has to know your delusions of wanting to be with him. You keep to yourself, minding your business and doing what you do best. Music.
The song writing goes on a little too long one afternoon, realizing you never had lunch or breakfast. When inspiration strikes…
“Are you hungry?” you ask him, realizing you don’t think you’ve ever seen him actually eat. You assume he gets a quick meal here and there when you’re busy with music related things. Your kitchen is stocked, so he has his choice of whatever he wants. Now you feel like take-out, however. “I’m going to order dinner.”
He looks up from another remote case he’s assisting with off-site. “Sure, I can eat.” He grins beneath the mask. You’ve gotten good at spotting it. It makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.
“Can you even eat in the mask,” you ask, thumbing through your phone to place a quick delivery order for the two of you. You’re only half-joking, but you wonder why he wears it all the time, even when it’s just the two of you.
“I can do a lot of things in this mask, flower.” His tone darkens. A shiver courses through your body, flooding you with goosebumps. Gulping, you try to ignore the words. Just when you think you’re good at pushing away what you’re beginning to feel for him, he pulls you right back in. You wonder if he received some super secret training for that as well.
“Okay, food ordered,” you say, the words trembling from your tongue. He chuckles, enjoying the way he makes you so weak. You thought he only liked making you angry. You realize he just loves any reaction from you whatsoever. “But… really? Can you eat with the mask? Do you ever take it off?” Your voice isn’t full of venom like the first time you asked about it. You find yourself truly wanting to know him better.
“I take it off when I’m alone.”
“Why wear it all the time?” You sit next to him in the living room, scooting closer as he replies.
“To keep my identity a secret. It’s better for missions,” he responds nonchalantly. “No one really wants to know me, anyway, so why take it off? Not the real me, anyway. Just the soldier that follows commands and can kill without thinking. Nothing else matters when you’re in the middle of tracking down dangerous people.”
You take in what he says. It makes sense why there’s longing and loneliness in his eyes. No one knows the real him. Maybe no one has ever cared that he hides himself from the world, but you do.
“I feel the same,” you finally say, reaching to rest your hand on his arm, hoping he will feel your sincerity. With a sigh, you continue. “I mean, with wearing the mask and hiding yourself. It’s like as long as I do what I’m told, everyone is happy. No one cares how I feel. They hate when I want to make my mind up for myself. As if I’m a little girl that never knows what she wants for herself.”
“Well, we both know that’s not true,” he laughs. “You certainly know how to fight for what you want. You showed me that plenty of times.”
You giggle softly, not even thinking anything of it when he removes your hand to place it in his own, giving your palm a squeeze.
“Yeah, I… didn’t mean to be such a bitch to you,” you confess. “I was so angry at my father for deciding what’s  best for me. I spent most of my life figuring things out on my own while he was busy with his job. Only for him to come in whenever he wants to say I’m not allowed to do this, or go there, or date this guy. I’m only here to be a burden to him and his career.” Your voice falls as you finish speaking. It’s a weight you’ve carried for so long knowing the one person you wanted most in the world to be proud of you never cared for your choices in life. He’s never taken an interest in your career, and everything you’ve accomplished, you’ve done on your own.
“I’m sorry, flower,” he sighs. “I… didn’t have the best childhood, either. My father wasn’t the nicest to my mother or me. It’s part of the mask thing, you know? Easier to hide myself than deal with no one wanting me around or getting in the way. I’ll leave before getting left.”
Guilt sinks into your heart. He’s felt that way since childhood, and you only furthered the idea by being pissed he was assigned to watch over you.
“I… want you around,” you reply quietly, intertwining your fingers with his gloved hand. He’s so protective of himself while you always wanted to be open and free. The realization hits you hard. The heaviness rises in your throat, burning with guilt for pushing him away so hard at the beginning. “I hope you can see that now.”
“I do, flower.”
Your heart melts in an instant. How could you have hated him for so long? You’re angry at yourself for not giving it a chance and getting to know him.
Before you can reply, there’s a knock on the door with your food delivery. Regretfully, you pull away to answer, grabbing the food and quickly getting back to him. While you’re placing the containers out in front of you on the coffee table, he sneakily pushes his mask up over his mouth and the tip of his nose. You see him out of the corner of your eye, glancing once then staring the second time while handing him his food.
You don’t say a word. All you can do is take in the sight of his mouth, his lips, the tip of his nose. His strong jaw. His smooth skin. You want to reach out and touch him but you’re scared he’ll retreat. You can’t pull your gaze away, taking in the sight of him because you know it’s something he doesn’t show often. Your heart swells, warmth filling your chest. He put so much trust in you to uncover a part of himself he’s kept hidden and secured for so long. You want to cherish the moment for as long as you can while the two of you enjoy dinner together.
It’s not often you do favors for people in the industry, but when one of the label execs asked for you to perform at a club his friend owns, you couldn’t turn him down. Not only because it would get you more exposure and in with a particular group of board members of award shows that were closely related, but because you simply love being on stage. The club is prestigious enough that it won’t be a rowdy, wild crowd, and who knows who else could be watching you that night?
Of course, your Lieutenant is close by as you hit the stage. He watches you closely, never taking his eyes off of you while you sing and dance for the crowd, as well as take a few shots to get them hyped up and in the mood. You’re working everyone over by the time the end of your set comes. The audience grows closer to the stage, making it more fun to interact with them.
Still, you keep your attention on him every now and then. He’s in the back of the crowd, but to the side of the stage. He’s laying low, dressed in all black, a hood over his head and his usual skull mask on his face. When the last song comes on, you can’t help locking eyes with him while you sing to the slow, sexy beat about being with a guy in secret. How good it will feel, how fun it would be if no one knew. Just the two of your bodies together even if it’s bad for both of you. He holds your gaze with an intense expression. You can’t look away from him, not for a second. You’re in a trance as your hips sway to the music around the microphone stand. You see him puff out his chest as the muscles in his body tense. He’s just as affected as you.
The set ends and the crowd cheers for you while you wave goodbye, remembering now that there is a crowd and it’s not just him and you in the room. You quickly run off stage to cool off in the back, and it doesn’t take long for him to find you in a lonely hallway.
The music echoes through the walls, but it’s more quiet as the DJ continues to spin top tracks from the charts. Your mind is spinning from the performance and the few shots you had while on stage. You’re not drunk, just a little tipsy, but it doesn’t stop you from running to him with a giddy smile. You’re nearly alone, with a few people passing by — workers clocking in and out, someone taking a selfie down the hall. The only one that matters, however, is him.
“Having fun?” you ask, though you know he’s probably not. You assume he’s not one for these kinds of crowds.
“You know how to work a crowd,” he says, making sure you know for a fact his eyes were on you the entire time.
“Of course, it’s my job!” You giggle. “And I love it. I love performing! I love dancing and I love when people watch me.”
By now, you’re nearly pressed against him. The alcohol is surging through your body. You feel so light. So happy. You decide you love being around him. He’s big and stupid and grumpy, but you love it. You can’t help but to keep giggling.
He stares at you with his head tilted to one side. You laugh even harder a moment before settling.
“Do you like watching me?” you ask, biting your lip after licking them.
He stares into your eyes. Those deep, lonely eyes of his. “I didn’t hate it.” He takes a step, pressing his body against you. You wrap your arms around his neck without thinking.
“Mm, I’ll take it, Lieutenant.” It’s one of the nicest things he’s said about your music. Of course you’re going to take any and all compliments from the cold-hearted soldier.
He cocks a brow while placing his gloved hands on your hips. “Oh, you’ll take it?”
Is that humor in his voice? Is he actually flirting this time and not just trying to rile you up? You giggle more, standing the toe of your heels to try to reach his mouth.
“Yes, I can take it,” you reply in a whisper, mouth so close to his mask. Your lidded eyes stare up at him, heart skipping a beat as heat washes over you.
“Are you sure, flower?” God, the things the nickname begins to do to you. It’s honestly sweet, if you think about it, and it makes you weak in the knees. It’s painful how much you want him. “Can you take me?”
You gulp, eyes fluttering as his hands begin to caress your hips. “I’m not the delicate little flower you think I am.” The space between you closes as he lowers his head. Your lips just barely brush against the mask. You want to feel him against you more than anything. “I can take all of it, Lieutenant.” Your tongue slips past your lips to ghost over the fabric, feeling the outline of his mouth. “Every. Inch.”
He growls, digging his fingers into your body. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
You could say the same. This man drives you wild. You don’t even care to hide it any longer. You want him and you want him to know.
A scream  suddenly echoing throughout the front of the club breaks the spell you have on one another. His head jerks toward the noises past the hallway, suddenly on high alert as he blocks your body with his own from the door close by. In the other room, you hear a commotion, bodies shuffling, more screaming, fighting. You don’t have time to think.
He quickly grabs your arm to pull you farther into the back of the club. “Hurry!” he commands, and you have no chance to question him. He turns a corner and drags you along before stopping abruptly. Your body crashes into his back a second before you peek around him, spotting two masked men at the back exit of the club.
They don’t stand a chance before the soldier is on them. He grabs one in the middle of throwing a punch, twisting his arm with a kick to his knee, knocking him to the ground. The other man moves in, grabbing the Lieutenant by the waist, but is only met with a sharp knee to his stomach. The first man regains his balance, lunging toward him with all of his weight as the two tumble into the wall.
The second man moves past, aiming straight for you. You begin to back up, but he rushes to take hold of your hair in a tight fist. You scream, raising your hands to begin hitting him in the chest in an attempt to get out of his hold. You miss the shuffling of bodies straight ahead of you, the cry of pain, the thud as one of them hits the floor.
The man grabbing you is quickly snatched back, the Lieutenant coming into view. He takes the attacker by the arm, twisting it so far back you hear an actual snap of bones. He cries out in pain before slumping to the floor along with his partner.
“C’mon!” Your hand is taken and you’re led out of the club in a rush. Everything is going so fast. The world is spinning around you, heart racing, knees about to give out as you try to keep up with him on your way to the SUV. You feel so weak, so out of breath, and he quickly realizes that, turning to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. He jogs the rest of the way while you hear the police sirens flooding the night’s air. Voices all around of people shuffling out of the club fill your ears. Your vision is blurry, going in and out and you aren’t sure if you’re going to pass out from being so overwhelmed.
Your body is thrown into the front seat and quickly a seatbelt rests over you. Blinking, you try to focus on anything to stabilize your vision. The vehicle is started. Tires screech as the two of you drive to safety.
“What… what happened?” Your voice is quiet, trembling. Just speaking the words make it harder to breathe. He doesn’t say a thing, only reaching for his phone in his pocket before tapping the screen a few times. “What’s going on?” you ask again. He gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything to you.
After a few silent seconds, someone picks up on the other end of the phone. You hear a deep voice, but you can’t make it out. “This is Lt. They’ve found her.”
Your eyes grow wide. “Who? Who found who?” You reach for him, squeezing his arm. He ignores you, speaking a few code names and keywords as usual. Things you don’t understand. Undercover special ops phrases, of course. Then he hangs up. “Please… answer me.”
“Those men back there work for the men your father is currently trying to capture.” He grunts, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “They were there for you.”
“What?” You lean back in your seat, sinking down while placing a hand on your head.
“What do you mean ‘what’? You knew this was a possibility the whole time! And I fucking let my guard down. You could have gotten hurt. Or worse…”
“No, I thought my father was just being stupidly overprotective as always!” The words spin in your head. It still hasn’t dawned on you. There’s no way you were actually being sought out as some sort of revenge for your father getting close to taking down a criminal.
“I don’t know how to tell you this delicately, but there are men out there willing to hurt you just to hurt your father.”
You’re speechless. You keep your head in your hands. You don’t know how to process this information. He says nothing else. Neither of you do the entire drive back to your home, other than him mumbling to himself that luckily you weren’t followed.
When you arrive home, you aren't even sure what to do with yourself. What can you do after you were attacked? Your body slumps to the door, right in the doorway, tears you've been fighting finally falling down your cheeks. Your body heaves in a sob, finally letting it all sink in. You were attacked. You could have been hurt, and there you were flirting and teasing him like nothing else mattered.
You were almost taken by dangerous men. You really did need protection. For so long, you've wanted to be independent and strong. For so long you thought you could live life on your own. Your father was right. You are just a sad, weak little girl.
You continue losing yourself until a strong arm wraps around your body to pick you up from the floor. He pulls you in without hesitation. Wraps your body up against him, carrying you to the bedroom.  He sits on the bed, still holding you against him as you cry into his jacket.
"I'm sorry, flower," He whispers, stroking your hair. "I know you're scared, but you don't have to be as long as you're with me. I promise I'll be dead before anyone lays their hands on you. Trust me."
You do trust him. You believe every word. You feel it as if each syllable is wrapping gently around your heart to ease the pain. You want to feel embarrassed for breaking down in front of him. Normally you would, but you're so angry at yourself for not believing them in the first place. How could you be so naive? Not anymore. You won't put yourself in that position again.
"Will you… stay with me?" You ask, sniffling while pulling away from him. "Tonight? Please, I don't want to be alone."
His eyes scan your face for a moment. "I'd do anything for you."
Your chest swells. He really is so sweet. So kind. Caring. All the things you accused him of not being, he is. You want to stay with him not just now, but forever. You're not scared to admit it anymore. You're not scared at all as long as you have him.
"I need to take all this off. I feel gross." You both look down at your performance outfit and then you motion up to your makeup. You need to wash the night away. You don't care if it's stupid to feel this way. You need to get everything off. You can still feel a sting in the back of your hand where the man grabbed you.
He nods before you slip off his lap, then he follows you to the bathroom. At first he leans against the door frame with his arms folded, until you motion for him to get the zipper on the back of your dress. He does so delicately, zipping slowly down until your bare back is uncovered. You feel his gaze on you. You know he's taking it all in. Your heart races as warmth floods your body.
You don't know what's gotten into you, you just know you want him close. You need him now more than ever. You want to feel this safe all the time.
The dress falls to the floor, leaving you in thin, flimsy panties in black. You hear a sharp inhale from behind, feeling your insides shake from knowing how much of you he's seeing. Suddenly, his fingers are on your neck, gloved knuckles brushing over your flesh, down your back between your shoulders, but he stops when he gets to your pantyline.
"Will you sit here while I wash up?" you ask, but you know he will. You want him to feel needed, because you do need him. Your heart wants him just as much as your body.
"Of course, flower," he says, voice deep, dark, demanding of your body's attention.
"I love when you call me that," you admit. "I pretended to hate it, but it always gives me butterflies."
"I love calling you my little flower," He replies, a smile in the words. "I love calling you mine."
You turn around upon hearing that, giving him a full view of your exposed breasts, stomach, the little V between your legs. His gaze lowers, taking in every inch of your body you're willing to allow him to see.
You don't say anything, too surprised in his confession to speak. You only lower your panties to the ground, giving him another part of your body to soak in. He practically groans at the sight of you naked before him. Your nipples harden beneath his heavy gaze. Heat surges through you. Yet, you're not embarrassed or ashamed. You feel appreciated by his lonely eyes. He doesn't make a move on you, doesn't even mutter a word. Now you believe him when he said he would worship you. He's doing it with his eyes in the moment.
Finally, you turn from him to take your shower, letting it heat up a moment before you step past the glass door. He watches you the entire time, lathering up your body, washing your hair, allowing the water to drip down every inch of you into the drain. You feel his eyes focused the entire time, but it doesn't make you feel insecure. No man has ever looked at you the way he does. He has so much adoration in his eyes you feel like you'll burst. There's longing, passion, and need.
He has a towel ready for you as you step out, wrapping up your body in an instant. You appreciate the warmth he can offer, making you feel so safe in his arms. You dry yourself off with his help, letting the masked man take care of you.
You decide in the moment you don't care about anything else. You just want to be with him. You're falling in love, and there's no slowing down your heart. You don't want to try even if you could.
"Kiss me," you suddenly say, dropping the towel to the floor. "Please, you don't have to take the mask off completely. I know it's hard for you. Just… kiss me? Please?"
He stares down at you for a moment. The question sinks in. Your assurance about his own insecurities over exposing himself even more so. Then he pulls you close by one strong, tattooed arm behind your back. With ease he props you up on the bathroom sink before lifting the mask enough to show his mouth.
His lips find your own in seconds. The smooth, soft skin presses to your lips in a rush of need, desire, desperation. You melt into him in an instant, so entranced by this man you would do anything for him. You pull him closer by the collar of his jacket, wanting more, needing to deepen the kiss and receive all of him. Your tongues collide and moans fill the air. His body presses into you, feeling his hardened cock rub against your bare slit.
The feeling is electric. Warmth fills you from head to toe as he kisses you. Finally, you surrender to him, becoming weak before him, opening yourself up to him, giving him all of you.
He doesn't take the moment for granted. His mouth lowers from your lips to your neck, kissing every inch of flesh he can reach. You cry out for him not to stop, giving him access to every part of you he wants to kiss.
It doesn't take him long to drop to his knees. A gloved hand parts your thighs wide for him. He kisses your inner knee softly, trailing toward your pussy as you lean back to give him more access. You're on full display for him, hearing him groan from the sight of your awaiting folds needing his mouth.
"Jesus Christ, flower," He growls, placing both hands on the backs of your thighs to push your body back and hold you in place. "If I die right here, I'll still be the luckiest man in the world getting to worship this pretty cunt."
His words make you shiver. Never has a man spoken to you as such. Especially not one kneeling between your thighs. What he says goes straight to the pit of your stomach, swirling lower as the red hot heat of desire settles in.
"Please," you beg him, not an ounce of shame in your body as you reach for him, pulling him closer to where you need him most.
He urgently gives in to your every command, whimper, and plea, lowering his half-masked face until his tongue becomes buried between your folds. A gasp fills the bathroom as your fingers dig into the back of his head, feeling him slip his tongue down your slit, from your aching clit to your entrance dripping with need. He presses his mouth over the swollen bud, sucking lightly to have your head falling back, jaw going slack. Cries of his name spill from your lips in the process, overwhelmed within seconds of this man's pleasure you're receiving. You push against the hold he has on your thighs, but he's good at keeping you in place as you shiver around him.
He tends to your clit, massaging in delicate circles to have your walls tensing. “Oh—” Your voice is shaky, a long exhale following the word. “Oh my God…” You can’t help but you rock yourself against his motions. Your body comes alive due to his mouth against your flesh. Heat begins building in the pit of your stomach, pleasure coursing through your body.
He keeps his eyes on you from between your thighs. You look down in time to see his tongue lower to your entrance as he slips inside of you, tasting every last drop of arousal you offer him. You pull him closer, pressing your thighs against the sides of his face and his tongue delves deeper inside of you a moment before licking back up to your clit. The motion drives you wild. Your eyes screw shut. Head back. Gaping. He teases and sucks and licks until you’re trembling against his sturdy, strong palms pressing to your thighs.
“I’m… I’m getting… c-close…” You can’t help but to mutter. Your voice wavers with each syllable. Heat swarms between your thighs. The blissful coil tightens in the pit of your stomach.
“Come for me, flower,” he growls between your legs. “I want to taste it all.”
The words send you over the edge the moment his mouth is on you again. He massages your clit right as you begin barrelling over the edge of pleasure. Gasps and moans fill the bathroom, thighs squeezing around his head as you roll your hips against his motions. Shaking, you hold him close with a hand still pressed to his head, and he never lets up, using his tongue to extend the bliss all throughout your body until you can barely take anymore. Then he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your slit, tasting all of you just as he said.
Gently, you push him away with a heavy exhale. You can’t take anymore. Your entire body is trembling in the aftermath. He pulls his head away, looking up at you while licking his lips. Then he leans in to press a few kisses against the inside of your thigh, keeping his eyes on your own the entire time. As if he’s claiming your body belongs to him now. There’s no turning back, and you wouldn’t want to even if you could.
It doesn’t take long for your father to get word of what happened at the club.You expect him to appreciate the Lieutenant for getting you to safety without any harm to you. He saved your life while getting attacked by two men at the same time. He should be thanking him, but you instantly hear a cold, stern voice coming through the other line when he picks up his ringing phone. Your father begins to question what you were doing in such a large crowd in the first place, why you weren’t being supervised better when that was the Lieutenant’s mission.
It comes as a shock when you hear him ask why the Lieutenant has his hands on you in the back of the club. Your eyes grow wide. He says nothing to your father, only letting him rage through the phone. You trace your steps back to the previous night, knowing you were tipsy before you quickly sobered up when the attack happened. You only remember a few other people in the hallway with you… but you did see a flash go off.
Someone took a photo of the two of you while he was holding you, and it somehow got back to your father. Now he’s being reprimanded over the phone by the commander. Your heart sinks into your stomach.
When he hangs up the phone, he doesn’t look at you.
“What’s going on?” you ask, knowing it became quiet at the end of the conversation. “What did he say?”
He hesitates for a long moment, looking down at the floor as he hovers near the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest. He won’t look at you at all. That same defensive stance that used to drive you crazy has made its return.
“It’s not good, little flower,” he finally speaks. Your heart jumps. The last thing you wanted to do was get him in trouble. “I’ve been reassigned.”
“What?!” You jump up from your seat, rushing to him. “No… No! Reassigned to what? Who is going to protect me? It’s obvious I need it now more than ever.” Your heart races, chest so heavy it’s hard to breathe. You don’t want to be without him.
“Someone else will look after you.” His voice is quiet, defeated. He knows there’s nothing he can do. He can’t go against his commander. “They’re putting someone else on duty to take my place.”
“No!” You begin shaking your head, not accepting this news at all. There’s no way you can have anyone else. No one can protect you like he can. “No, there has to be something… I’ll call my father!”
“Not a good idea.” He still isn’t looking at you. You wonder how much shame would be in his eyes if he were to. “Your father saw us together at the club. I don’t know how it got back to him, but he saw us. He thinks I put your life in danger, and he’s right. I wasn’t focused on my mission. I can’t focus when I’m with you because all I want to do is touch you.”
The tears begin welling behind your lids as you listen to him. A lump forms in your throat, the breath nearly taken from your lungs as he speaks.
“So I’m back to being just a mission to you?”
He sighs, running a gloves hand over his face. “I don’t know what you expect me to say…” You can see his jaw clenching through the mask. “Two missions in a row I disobeyed orders. No one was supposed to touch you. Especially me.”
He confirms what you feared. You’re just another mission he’s failed.
“Don’t do this.” You gulp away the tears. You can’t be weak in front of him. You can’t let him break your heart like this. “You said you would never let anyone hurt me and you kept that promise. But right now? What you’re saying. You’re breaking my heart. After what happened…”
“It shouldn’t have happened!” His voice raises just enough for you to step back. Your eyes grow wide.
“You can’t possibly mean that.” Your voice is trembling. Your bottom lip quivers. It’s like you’ve been gutted with your heart ripped out all at once. Each breath you take feels like the last because you don’t know how he could say things he doesn’t mean. You know he doesn’t mean it. “You don’t have to be so cold.”
He laughs without any humor in his voice with a shake of his head. “Is that what you think?” His tone is suddenly harsh, bitter. “You’re naive if you think that. Being cold is how I survived for so long. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I should have never let my guard down last night. I should have never…”
His words fall. You know what he wants to say, even if he can’t bring himself to speak it. Your heart twists and shatters, the final nail in the coffin. He’s not just upset he’s being reassigned. He’s angry at himself for getting distracted, and he makes it clear being with you was a mistake.
He huffs and runs a hand over his face. “I should go. Someone will be here soon, you won’t be without protection for long.” He turns to leave, cold as ever.
You follow him, gathering up all the courage inside yourself. You don’t want him to leave. “You’ll regret this!”
He pauses at the door, hand already on the handle. He doesn’t look at you. Not even a glance over his shoulder. “I already do, flower.”
Then he’s gone.
Two men are sent to watch over you that night. Your father’s orders. Maybe he sent two this time so they could keep an eye on each other. It doesn’t matter either way. They don’t speak much, and you don’t care to get to know them.
You miss him already.
You can’t even believe you fought so much with him at the beginning, then ended up falling for him. It’s so quiet now. You don’t have him to keep you calm anymore, and everything in your home feels so different. Off.
You hate it.
Their protection doesn’t last long, however. When the men attacked you at the club, it gave your father’s team leads where to find their criminal leader. Their urge to get to you only drew your father closer to them, and eventually their organization was taken down in a huge raid. You no longer needed protection and they were assigned somewhere else, leaving you alone.
You’re thankful of that, at least. Now you can get back to your life. You wonder how, when all you can think about is him, however. You wonder if he’s hurting the same way, missing you just as much.
“Just call him, honey,” Marjorie tells you one day, but you shake your head at her.
“He made it clear he doesn’t want to see me.”
She looks heartbroken enough for you and drops the subject.
Time passes but it’s not any easier. Not when you feel so strongly for the soldier. Not when you know he made a mistake. You don’t care what anyone says. What his orders are. What people expect of either of you. You both deserve happiness, and you’ve never felt calm and happiness like when you were with him.
Your father calls eventually, telling you the team is throwing a celebration in his honor and he would love for you to come. A few reporters will be attending as well. He’s even getting an award from top officials for taking down such a large criminal organization. The thought makes you even more bitter.
You attend the party taking place in the large meeting room turned ballroom of headquarters, however, but only because you hope you will see the Lieutenant there. Your father, other Lieutenants and Sergeants, as well as the staff that worked in the background, are there with their partners when you show up that same night to congratulate the Commander. Everyone is mingling, a little tipsy already, and you feel so out of place. You don’t know any of your father’s colleagues. Well, except one. You don’t see him anywhere, even though you’ve been keeping an eye out all night.
Just when you think you’ve given up, you spot him near the back at the bar, listening to someone ramble drunkenly in his ear. It doesn’t look like he’s even paying much attention. His eyes are on you. He spotted you first in the crowd, and when your gaze meets his own, your heart skips a beat.
Of course he’s wearing the mask. Even if it’s a formal celebration, he still hides from everyone here. You can’t look away from his stare. It’s like he’s inviting you in, but you remember his words. He doesn’t want to be with you.
Fuck that, you think. Yes he does. You make a move to go to him, but he’s standing to make his way out of the room. You quickly follow. You can’t let him get away so easily. Leaving the ballroom, you see him making a right into a long hallway. Carefully, considering you’re wearing heels, you chase after him as quickly as possible.
He’s about to enter a closed door when you call after him. He freezes for a moment, as if contemplating if he wants to turn around, then he proceeds through the door. As you walk closer, you see his name on a plaque outside, noting this must be his office. You don’t even knock before making your way inside.
His back is to you when you enter. The room is dark. Moonlight shines through two of the frosted over windows, illuminating the space just enough for  you to see the outline of his face, his hair, and jaw. He’s not wearing his mask. He says nothing, and you’re nearly too out of breath from trying to keep up with him in heels. Instead, he reaches for a clear bottle of dark liquor, spinning the top before pouring a shot’s worth into a whiskey glass that was already laid out.
“Having fun at the party, flower?”
He still calls you that. Your heart leaps.
“No,” you tell him honestly. How could you when all you’ve been thinking about is how heartbroken you are.
He downs the drink in one go. “Oh? Maybe you should head home.” You know he wants the words to sound more bitter than he is. His voice is broken. Tired. Lonely. He does miss you. And this is clearly not his first drink of the night.
“I wanted to see you.” The words release in a tremble. You don’t want to be rejected again, but you know you have to try. “I… miss you. I tried so hard to be angry at you for leaving me, but honestly I just miss you. I wish I was angry, because it wouldn’t hurt as much as what you’re doing now.”
“You shouldn’t,” he replies sharply. “Waste of time to waste all that love you have inside of you on me. Don’t do it.”
“Don’t say that!” You step to him, bravely placing a hand on his shoulder from behind. He still won’t look at you. “I know you said you had to be cold to survive, but not with me. Don’t do that to me. You don’t have to find a method to survive with me when you can just live.”
He is silent for a moment. A long breath spills from his lips.
You continue, needing to get everything out that you’ve been feeling since he left. “You told me no one would ever hurt me, but you’re doing it now by trying to hide how you feel.”
“How can I possibly feel anything for you?” he snaps, catching you by surprise. You jerk your hand resting on his shoulder toward you. “Don’t…”
“Don’t what?” You gulp, trying not to cry once again.
“Don’t make me do this.” He pours another shot and downs it. “There’s no way we can be together. I don’t know what you expected, but people like me don’t know love like you do. I have a job to do. A dangerous one. I’m too fucked up and you’re not strong enough to deal with being with someone like me. And you’re the Commander’s daughter. You think that’s going to go over well with everyone?”
“I don’t give a fuck about everyone!” Now you’re the one snapping at him. His head jerks up, looking at you over his shoulder. You can make out the outline of his face in the moonlight. Even if he’s hurting you, you can’t help but to want to reach out and touch him. “If you’re scared then just say that, but don’t make this out to be like we’re not good enough for one another because I know you care deeply for me. After what we shared…”
“What? I made you come,” he interrupts, nonchalant and dismissive. “That’s all. I wonder what daddy Commander would think if he knew I ate your sweet little pussy. I bet I’d have a bullet in my head right now.”
“Fuck you!” You reach for him out of rage and hurt, pushing against his back, but he doesn’t even budge. You’re done listening to him. This is clearly not him when he’s like this, and you won’t let him disrespect you as if you didn’t share secrets you never told anyone else. “You know it was much more than that. You really are fucked up!”
You don’t mean the words as you turn on your heel to leave. You only want to hurt him like he’s hurting you. Just like when you first met. Just when you reach the door handle, you feel his arms wrap around your body, not even realizing he was making a move toward you. Your back presses to this chest as he holds you in place.
“Don’t fucking say that to me,” he growls in your ear.  “You don’t want to go there with me, little flower, trust me.” His words are meant to be threatening, but you feel the pain within them. The anger isn’t directed at you, but the life he’s had to live.
“Stop calling me that and just tell me what’s wrong. Why are you being like this?” You don’t struggle to break free from his hold. You hate how much you’ve missed it. You wish you could be angry at him, but it feels too good to your body to feel his strong arms wrapped around you. There’s no use in fighting it.
“I don’t know what you expected, sweetheart. What? To fall in love and live happily ever after? With a fucked up special ops soldier like me? Always gone. Not knowing if I’ll come back alive or in a coffin.” His words twist around your heart, squeezing until you can hardly breathe. His voice is like ice in your ear. A shiver races down your spine.
“So you would rather be cold to me and not even try because you’re scared of getting hurt? Is that it?” You spit back. You’re not backing down from this fight. “You blame me and not being able to handle being with you, but it’s not me. You’re scared to open yourself up to me, still, even after what we shared. You’re scared of a future that hasn’t even happened yet, you won’t even try for a future we actually want. You’re scared of what everyone thinks, but not what the person that loves you thinks?”
His grip on your loosens just a bit. You’ve taken him by surprise. It’s clear he didn’t expect you to admit you love him, but you do. You’re in love with him, and you love him so much you’re willing to fight for him. Unlike everyone else in his past, you want him there, and you’ll die trying before letting him go so easily.
He sighs, dropping his head. His voice is trembling. Suddenly, you feel warm drops of salty tears hitting your shoulder. He’s crying. For you.
“I’m fucked up, flower.” His voice is cracked and broken. Your heart aches just hearing it. “I don’t deserve you.”
Your breath catches in your throat at his confession. His body relaxes behind you, his hands rubbing along your lower stomach, still holding you close. You melt into his touch, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, but you need him to release himself to you. Free himself of this burden that’s been weighing on him to make him feel so trapped in his own hurt.
“I don’t want to be cold to you,” he admits, exhaling slowly. “God, you’re the warmest thing I’ve ever had in my life. You melt my ice cold heart. That’s why I don’t feel good enough for you. I don’t want to dim your light with my darkness.
“Oh…” You sigh, turning around with warning. He falls to his knees in front of you. His face becomes buried in the silk of your dress, tears soaking into the material with his hands on your hips. For the first time, you run your fingers through his hair.
“I’ve never opened myself up to anyone. Not since childhood.. I don’t even know how, I think,” he continues, words muffled here and there from how close he is to you. He’s never gone into detail about his past, but you don’t want to imagine the horrors he’s seen to make him so shielded. “I’ve never wanted to show myself to anyone until I met you. I’ve never felt for anyone like I do you.”
You allow his words to sink in, feeling the big soldier surrender to you on his knees. “I want to see all of you,” you reply in a whisper. “I want you to be open with me. And I… well, I won’t let anyone hurt you, either. I promise.”
Upon hearing your words, he finally looks up at you to meet your eyes. For the first time, he shows you his face. He shows you all of him. You take it all in, studying the shape of his eyes, his nose, his lips. The curve of his jaw and even his hair. All the way down to his neck, you take in every inch and burn it to your memory.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he confesses. “I’m so sorry, I never want to hurt you again. I never want to be so cruel to you. What we shared allowed me to do this now. Showing myself to you. It was important to me, and if you never want to see me again, I get it, but I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me, flower.”
You can’t help the tears that hit your cheek. “I want you, Lieutenant,” you tell him, and in your next breath, you say, “I love you. Don’t ever hide yourself again, okay?”
He blinks a few times, those once lonely eyes filling with so much love for you. He says the words in return, staring up at you until he’s sure you forgive him. Then he stands, wrapping arms around you to pull you close and lift your body to guide you to his desk. He places you on top before his lips come down to meet your own. Taking you in a gentle kiss, you moan against his skin, feeling his body press between your legs. His hands wander anywhere he can reach, savoring you with his touch while his tongue slips against your own.
“What if—” you begin, breathless, whispering as his kisses fall to your neck, “—someone catches us in here?”
“Don’t care,” he growls. “I’ve missed you too fucking much. I want to show you how much I love you, flower.”
Your body shivers. Goosebumps flood your skin. You’re already so worked up, emotionally and physically. Your head is in a whirlwind of feelings while your body goes right back to craving him. Especially when he touches you as he does. His palms caressing your sides before dropping your thighs. Skin on skin makes you finally realize he’s not wearing his gloves. Heat floods you from the contact.
“Touch me,” you whisper, wrapping a hand around his head when he looks at you.
“Tell me where.”
“Here.” You take his hand, touching his skin for the first time as you guide his fingers between your thighs. He presses against your clothed slit, sending another pulse of warmth through your body. God, you’ve missed him. “Please…” you beg him, and he chuckles, kissing you again.
“You never have to beg me,” he teases, slipping your panties to one side to feel your pussy against his skin, “I’m so weak for you, flower, I’d do anything you asked.”
“Oh…” Your breath waivers. Body already trembling by the time he sinks a finger inside you, slowly, driving you wild. Then he adds another, burying the digits deep before pulling them away.
“So wet for me, already,” he says. “Remember when I said I would worship you? Remember when I made it clear there would be no doubt you were mine?”
How could you forget? You remember that night pinned to your bed. His big body on top of you. You were so mad at him you wanted to fight him. “Yes,” you exhale.
“You’re mine, flower,” he growls against your ear, pumping his fingers inside of you, curling them to make you quiver. Your thighs tighten around his hand as he begins massaging the spot that makes your toes curl in your heels. “Every inch of this beautiful body is mine for me to do as I wish. I want to worship every part of you until you can no longer stand.”
Your head spins at his words and the way he’s fucking you with his fingers. Arousal drips to coat his flesh as the warmth swells from between your legs. You whimper his name while running your hands over his shoulders, trying to hold on to the last bit of your sanity. He drives you wild and all you can think of doing is giving in to him, giving all to him.
“Look at me,” he demands, running the fingers of his free hand along the base of your neck until he grabs a fistful of your hair. You meet his eyes in a gasp, not daring to look away from him for a second. His thumb rises to reach your clit, applying pressure to send you closer to the edge. Your chest heaves as the whimpers and cries spill out for him, so lost in his pleasure you don’t care about anyone or anything. “Just imagine when I fill you up with my cock, right here, flower. I’m going to fucking wreck you.”
You’re shaking against him, squeezing your thighs around him, face twisting in bliss. Your mouth remains open, every word a call of his name, a plea to continue, not to stop. You’re getting so close, but you try to push away your end because you don’t want the moment to be over with so quickly. You don’t care about the risk of getting caught. You don’t care about others finding out. You want to live in this moment, with his sinful tongue drawing out the delicious noises you’re making along with his fingers buried deep in your pussy.
“So… so close…” Your hips move with his motions. One hand falls to grip his wrist.
“Come for me,” he commands, “let me feel it, little flower.”
There’s no stopping the pleasure now. It builds with the anticipation of a hungry animal and crashes down around you like dangerous waves. Heat courses through you from between your thighs, the coil of pressure finally snapping to send your body into absolute bliss. You cry out one last time, sinking into his body as you ride out the pleasure against his hand. He holds you close, pulling your body to him and dropping his mouth to your lips. He kisses you through it all, taking it all in as you come undone around him, giving him the chance to show you what you mean to him.
Heavy breaths fill his office for a moment. He kisses you all over. Your lips. Your cheek. Your jaw and neck. He brings you back down just as gently, taking care of you like he promised he would. You’re completely spent. Exhausted from the fighting, worn out from his pleasure. But now there’s peace in your heart. There’s no more fighting, or longing, or hiding how you feel. You’re his, and he’s yours.
A sudden knock on the Lieutenant’s door brings the two of you back to reality in an instant. Before the door can be opened, you slip off the desk to straighten out your dress. He reaches for his mask you didn’t realize was laying right beside you behind the liquor bottle, tugging it over his head. His name is called from the other side a second before the door opens.
“The commander’s looking for you, Lieutenant,” the male voice says. You turn your back from the door, not wanting to be spotted by anyone alone in his office. “And his daughter. Have you seen… Oh!”
Clearly, the guy spotted you and him awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. You peek over your shoulder, realizing it’s just a Sergeant from your father’s team.
��We’ll be there soon, Serg.”
The Sergeant nods, looks between the two of you, then grins. “I’ll let ‘em know, Lt.”
When he leaves, you exhale a heavy breath. “Are you ready to do this?" You know once you walk out that door and return to the party with him, there's no hiding anything between the two of you. You have no choice, really, considering you both have been missing for a while. At least with an audience, your father can't kill you both.
He turns to you, giving you a quick, yet hesitant nod. "As long as you're right there with me." He grabs your hand and together you make your entrance.
Turns out, with an audience and being high off of the congratulations and awards for his bravery, your father isn't too upset. Not even shocked, really, when the two of you return after being gone. You tell him you'll talk later, explain everything, and that's good enough for him.
When he calls you the following day, he apologizes for being too hard on you. He also admits his work gets him so distracted from life, he can't think straight, clearly. When he's deep in a case, he sees nothing else but how to achieve a victory. He explains he overreacted when he found out about you and the Lieutenant at first. After all, your father trusts him, and knows he did everything right in protecting you. If that's someone you want in your life, then who is he to stop you from having your own happiness.
After the phone call, you're shocked to say the least. You feel like you don't even know the man you just spoke to. Maybe his work really does turn him into a cold-hearted soldier, but you're getting used to that fact now. He's still your father, and you know in the end, he only wants you to be safe and happy.
He still gives a stern warning to the Lieutenant when they see each other again. The commander promises if his daughter's heart is broken, there will be hell to pay. The Lieutenant is fine with the promises, realizing he got off much easier than expected. Now he sees he doesn't always have to refuse himself of what he wants, especially when it comes to loving you.
After meeting with your father, he makes his way to you in a hurry considering there’s still so much he has to make up for. You open your door to a bouquet of flowers, and the thought makes you giggle because you just can’t imagine him walking in and purchasing them.
“Is this your kind of humor?” you ask, thinking of the nickname you’ve grown to love.
“Flowers for my flower,” he says, peeking his head around the pink tulips in his hand. You take your gift and allow him inside, quickly finding a vase for them to put them on display in your living room before the two of you take a seat on your couch.
“How sweet.”
“And charming and kind?” he teases by asking, recalling your previous conversations at your label’s office building. You love that he can find a way to lighten the mood and make your past fights seem funny and ridiculous.
“Yes, that, too,” you tell him. Without hesitation, he pulls the mask from his face, laying it to the side. Your chest blossoms with warmth. You also love that he’s grown so comfortable with you. You can’t imagine having to hide yourself for most of your life just as a way to protect your heart. You feel so fortunate he trusts you. He’s still wearing his work uniform, but now there’s less weapons hidden here and there. You imagine he still has at least a knife sheathed somewhere on him. It wouldn’t be him if he didn’t. “How did it go today?”
“I think he wanted to be angry at me at first,” he says, recalling the meeting he had with your father as you scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He instantly wraps an arm around you. You feel so warm in his embrace. The guy radiates heat, it’s hard not to feel so cozy. “Then he explained to me there’s nothing more important to him than your safety and happiness. As long as I can promise you’ll have that, he’s okay with it. I’m not being fired, or worse.”
You have to give your father credit for being reasonable.
“Well, I have that now,” you tell him, lifting your head to press your lips against his cheek. “Though, I was promised a certain thing you haven’t fulfilled, yet.”
He smirks. “What’s that?”
“Well,” you sigh, “you did say there would be a lot of worshiping and groveling and proving I’m yours.”
“Groveling?” He chuckles. “I said that?”
“In my head you did.” He laughs harder at your answer. “Also, you said you would ‘wreck me’ if I remember correctly. And you would do anything I asked, because you’re desperately in love with me.” You’re grinning as you tease him, but his expression falls. His gaze softens, eyes lowering and smile dropping from his face.  
“Are you asking me, flower?” His eyes meet yours, tone suddenly darker, suddenly raspy and needy. “Are you asking me to wreck you?” His smirk returns.
You lean closer, a grin on your lips as you whisper in his ear. “I’m begging, Lieutenant.”
Without warning, he reaches to pull you into his lap. Your legs straddle his thighs as you sit on him, arms wrapping around his neck while his hands grip your ass. Not giving him another chance to speak, your lips crash into his mouth. You kiss him desperately as if you’re making up for the time spent apart. As your tongue caresses over his once slipping past his lips, his fingers pluck at the bottom of your shirt. It takes you a few seconds to register the feeling, but you quickly pull away once you do to remove the tee, along with your bra, leaving your bare breasts on display for him.
“Beautiful,” is all he says, reaching a gloved hand to caress your tits and making a moan escape your lips in the process. The feeling of the fabric against your hardened nipples makes you shiver. It’s enticing to watch him play with you in such ways, you allow him to thumb the aching bud before squeezing your breast in his hand.
“Feels so good,” you whisper to him, eyes closing. “I want you to touch me everywhere like that.” You know he realizes you mean with the gloves on when you hear a deep grunt from his chest.
“I plan to,” he informs you, both hands now caressing down your ribcage, to your hips to pull you closer. His mouth is instantly on your body, tongue easing over one nipple before kissing it gently, then doing the same to the other. You can’t help but to moan his name. He sucks on your flesh, taking his time to worship this moment and your body all the same. He kisses, licks, and sucks on your skin until the room starts spinning. You’re so worked up, feeling arousal soak into your panties as you roll your hips against him. You feel his hardened cock between your thighs when you do so, the friction making him groan against your skin.
“I want to feel you too,” you tell him, snapping back to reality and reaching for his thin, black t-shirt. He assists you in slipping it over his head, giving you a view of his chest for the first time. Running your hands down his body, you feel his skin against your own. He’s so warm to the touch, so hard, so manly. Your insides burn with desire.
“I want you,” you whisper while leaning closer, lips just barely touching his own. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”
A darkness casts over his eyes at your request, but you’re already working the belt to his pants. Then the button and zipper. He’s nearly bulging out of his boxer-briefs, and he helps you shove the clothing down his hips until a thick, hard and needy cock is on display for you to play with. He’s so much bigger than you were prepared for, but he feels so good against your skin when you take him in your hand. A deep groan builds in his chest from the contact.
“Be gentle with me, flower,” he warns, eyes lidded and his expression twisted with need. His voice is breathier than before. He’s already so worked up. “It’s so easy for someone like me to lose myself in someone like you.” You know his warning isn’t about being physical. You assume he hasn’t been intimate with many people in his life, especially when he’s so guarded. His words fall on your ears like a desperate plea to not toy with his emotions, but how could you when you’re so dangerously in love with him?
Without another word you drop to your knees before him. Your hand grips him at the base of his cock as your mouth draws near. You give him a gentle lick across the tip before kissing his skin. His body tenses in response, so you do it again. How is this big soldier so weak beneath your gaze right now? You have him under your spell as you take him in your mouth, stretching around him so it will fit.
He sucks in a breath and then growls his exhale, reaching for your hair to take in a fistful in his hand. You pump your hand a few times while playfully sucking on the tip just to see his reaction. His hips thrust softly, sending nearly another inch into your mouth.
“Fuck me, flower,” he groans, never taking his eyes off you. “Your mouth feels too fucking good.”
Warmth floods your body from the praise. You want to keep pleasing him. You decide it’s what he deserves and you love seeing him come apart from the bliss. You take him farther into your mouth, sucking him off to hear the groans and grunts he releases. Your hand plays with the shaft, taking care of everything that won’t fit in your mouth. He begins to slowly move his hips, fucking himself into your mouth just like you wanted. His grip on your hair tightens. He’s beginning to lose control.
Then you pull back to run your tongue along the base of his cock all the way to this tip. The motion is painfully slow, teasing him while making the moment last. His jaw clenches at the sight of you on your knees before him, wrapping your lips around his thick, needy cock once again to take as much as you can.
“Fuck, that’s my good girl,” he growls as he thrusts himself back into your mouth. “Take more of it, baby.”
The new affectionate nickname along with his praise has your panties soaked. You take more of him past your lips, eyes beginning to water as the breath catches in your throat. He continues to thrust in and out while you take it, body so hot and worked up you’re dying to feel it in your pussy, too. You squeeze your thighs together as you suck him off, allowing him to use your mouth as he wishes as he pushes your head lower.
“You like my cock in your mouth like this, flower?” he asks, the words released through clenched teeth. His voice is so shaky, so desperate that it fuels your desire even further. All you can do is moan in return as he hits the back of your throat. “Just wait until it’s in that pretty little cunt of yours, baby. I’m going to fuckin’ fill you up.”
You’re shivering as you listen to him speak, keeping your eyes on his face the entire time. He’s so lost in the moment, face twisted in pleasure, head falling back with deep groans filling his throat. His chest tightens along with the muscles of his stomach, strong arms flexing as he brings your head down, then back up.
But he knows he won’t last much longer with your lips around his cock. He gently pulls you away from him with a heavy sigh, taking in the sight of you with tears welling in your eyelids, lips swollen, and gasping for breath. Then he pulls you closer, making quick work of the jean shorts and panties you wear, slipping them to your ankles a second before he’s guiding your back to the couch. He’s between your thighs a moment later.
“Please,” you beg, pulling him close while raising your hips so your soaked slit meets his cock, still wet and messing from being in your mouth. “I need you.” You’re breathless as he pushes his pants lower, getting a better position between your legs before you feel the tip of his length press over your swollen clit.
“I told you,” he begins, lowering his cock to your entrance as he guides himself with a gloved hand, “you never have to beg me.” You feel the pressure of him beginning to enter you, his thick tip slipping between your folds as it stretches your pussy open.
“Fuck,” you gasp, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders. He freezes with heavy breaths spilling from his lips, but your grasp moves down his chest to his hips to pull him in. “Don’t stop,” you tell him with desperation. He continues easing inside of you, groaning when he feels you tightening around him. You screw your eyes shut as you adjust to his size, becoming so full of his cock in seconds. Your breaths deepen, listening to him groan as your warmth wraps around him.
“Tell me, flower,” he struggles to say between his teeth, “tell me to keep going. Tell me you want it.”
He’s so deep inside of you, your thighs are already shaking around him. You pull your knees closer to your chest, allowing him room to ground out inside of you, earning whimpers of his name, little pleas and cries to follow.
“Yes,” you tell him in a shaky tone, needing more of him, “I want it. I want you.”
He begins to move his hips, pulling out then pushing back in. He starts slow at first, feeling you quiver beneath him, listening to the breathy little noises you make. He loves it all. Loves watching you unfold in front of him.
“Feels so good,” he groans. “So perfect, and all for me.”
He snaps his hips into you, making you gasp before a moan fills the air. You scratch his sides, leaving marks along his skin as he does so, but it only makes him go wild. He grabs your wrists, quickly pinning them above your head before continuing to bury himself inside of your pussy.
“Remember the first time we were like this, flower?” His pace quickens, pushing his weight into your body to hit you deep within your walls. So deep you feel the pressure through your entire body, rolling your hips to meet the motions in return as you become greedy for pleasure. “When I had you like this on your bed? The way I wanted to fuck you right then and there was almost too much to bear. I was so fucking hard feeling you beneath me.”
His words send a surge of heat through your entire body. Goosebumps flood your skin, too breathless to even speak, but he’s getting off on it. He goes even faster, fucking you until you’re speechless. Every snap of his hips draws out another cry of his name, another plea to keep going. You’re dripping all over his cock and the way he fucks you, he deserves every drop. It’s almost too much to take, becoming overwhelmed from the pleasure, the way he speaks to you, how he keeps your hands above your head. He has complete control of your body, savoring the way it feels deep inside of your cunt.
You feel the pressure building, the bliss swirling between your thighs. His groans fill the air, mixing with your cries of pleasure. Neither of you will last much longer like this. You want one another too badly, your body has been craving his own it nearly hurts.
“Touch me,” you whimper, feeling him slow his pace into deep, long strokes of his cock within you. “So… close…”
In an instant, he releases his grip on you to take you by the hips. He urges your body to flip over before pulling you close from behind. Now your knees dig into cushions while he thrusts himself into you from behind. A gasp spills from your lips just as he wraps an arm around your body, bringing you closer while the other hand slips between your thighs. His fingers find your clit, feeling the material of the gloves against your skin to send your body into overload.
“Like this, baby?” he groans from behind, his mouth right next to your ear. You feel his heavy breaths against your neck. “Want me to wreck this pussy just like this?”
He buries himself into you from behind while tending to your clit. Your mind goes numb, his pace quick, yet he’s still deep inside of you. His ruthless thrusts from behind have the tears welling in your eyes once again. You’re shaking in his arms as he holds you up, heat filling every inch of your body until you begin to lose all control.
The bliss spills over without warning. All you can do is cry out as the waves of pleasure wash over your body, taking hold of every emotion while he continues fucking you from behind. He caresses your clit, the material of his gloves soaked in your juices just the same as his cock. You’re shivering from being overwhelmed with pleasure, walls tightening around him to make him groan and curse behind you.
Feeling you reach your own end has him losing all control. You’re so wet and messy, it feels too good to him as his head falls back and he groans praises. His grip on your body tightens before he spills inside of you, filling you up with his cum just as his pace begins to slow. Heavy breaths are shared in the pleasure to mix with moans and groans and curses. His cock twitches inside of you as you begin to come down, giving you every last drop of his release.
When the both of you finally collapse against the couch, you end up resting against his chest. One leg thrown over his. An arm around your body. You hear his quick heartbeat against your ear and he feels the softness of your skin as he holds you.
“I want you to know how much I love this,” you tell him breathlessly. Your eyes close, savoring the feel of being so safe and cozy. You can’t help but to think how far the two of you have come. You never imagined falling in love, but now you can’t imagine yourself any other way. Your heart swells for this man. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
He chuckles. “It’s real, little flower.” He lifts his head and you do the same, softly kissing one another to cherish the feeling.
You’re his now. The ghost and the flower. One so hidden from the world, the other almost too delicate to touch. Except when you’re together, he can be free from the burden of a painful past, and you get to prove just how strong you are. A match made in heaven.
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lix-ables · 1 day
⨳ new things — hwang hyunjin.𝄒 ⭒ ݁ .
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[mdni, this post contains smut, face riding, mentions of mirrors and cameras, slight mentions of edging, dirty talk, reader gets called desperate and needy etc etc ] words 538. ( anyways, i wrote this while being upset about the interactions, hopefully this makes up for my shitty writing )
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when hyunjin is in control, he knows what he is doing - especially while he’s being under you. when hyunjin is also thinking of something, maybe during a five minute break at dance practice, and talks about it to you, you can’t help but be intrigued. so the moment he messaged you, telling you he was on his way home and he wanted to try something new, you got excited.
which got you to the place and position you were in, or trying to be in, right this moment - with him laying down on your bed, his head comfortable on the pillow, wearing nothing but his sweats that he slipped on quite quickly, and you - your nails trying to find something to hold on to, desperately clasping the headboard in front of you as you tried balancing yourself, making sure you tried your bed not to fall on hyunjin’s face.
“slowly, doll. i’m not going anywhere. i don’t want you hurting yourself hm?” he mumbled, watching you intently from under you, your clothed cunt getting him distracted every once in a while, as he steadied your body in such a way that your thighs almost choked him, but he liked it - so far.
“i am being as slow as i can! i just don’t want to crush you, baby -” you sigh, your thighs trembling, shuddering under you, mostly with the fear of actually hurting him. “you know that even if you fucked my face, and somehow ended up suffocating me a little in the process, i would like that,” he mutters. his nose is now very slowly and tenderly nuzzling your inner thigh. “plus it’s hot when you grind against my face like a needy little thing. more access for you, don’t you think?”
you mewl at his words, wishing he’d make this easier for you, until you feel his arms pulling you down against his face, a gasp leaving you, as you steady yourself, holding onto the headboard once again, gripping onto it so tight, that you can see your knuckles turn white almost. “fuck,” you hear hyunjin from below you, the movements of him nimbly trying to shift your panties to the side, letting his nose touch your bare clit once, and that’s all it took, for you to whine out loud.
“are you that desperate, pet? you’ve been wanting me between your legs for how long now?” hyunjin mumbles, opening his mouth a little, wide enough to attach themselves onto your clit, ready to suck on it almost immediately. “shit… all day,” you manage, waiting a moment before letting your hips guide you against his face. hyunjin, who lets out a low hum from his throat, making the vibrations hit you in the right spots, waits for you to move your hips, his hands reaching to grab your ass from behind, squeezing it and earns a yelp from you.
“you’re not going to come until i tell you to, yeah? you can manage that, baby,” he says. “maybe next time i should just save this image in my camera - you, on me, perched so prettily, so desperate to come, and all you can do is listen to me tell you to watch yourself in the mirror.”
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xmhhoe · 2 days
12:43 am (m)
scb • f, s
I love changbin so much, am completely touch-starved, and was hit by the horny demon, so this came out. I’ve also been burnt out from work and I am working on getting motivation back to complete requests so thank you for being patient with me even though it’s been months lol
Warnings: nothing much, just soft fluffy sex with mr seo, kinda rough at some points, fem!reader
You let out a yelp as the head of his cock roughly pressed into your sweet spot. His smirk could be heard in his words, “Right there, baby?”
He continued to thrust into you slowly at this angle, repeatedly pushing you into the pleasurable headspace you’d been in for the last hour. You nodded your head, a sound resembling a yes tumbling out your mouth. “Feels.. so.. Fuck!” You slurred.
Your walls were tense and warm around him, having already orgasmed twice from his tongue and fingers. His cock dragged out slowly, a firm thrust quickly following to bury himself deeply inside you again. Your neck was held in the crook of his elbow, holding you close, preventing you from moving away, his strong chest pressed to your back. Your spine arched as your body desperately presented your pussy to him, as if it weren’t already about to give out from the overwhelming sensations and lack of oxygen.
“Changbin, please,” you whimpered tearfully. You didn’t know what you were begging for, your instincts taking over as your brain stopped working.
He breathed a grunt against your skin and kissed the nape of your neck, trying to calm you down before he lost too much control. But the clenching of your walls at his soft gestures and his hard cock, and the sounds of your moans made it difficult. He bit his lip and placed his hands on either side of your body, holding himself up over you. You glanced at him over your shoulder, missing the warmth of his weight against you, all glazed eyes and swollen lips. That was the last straw.
And lose control, he did. His muscles flexed as he suddenly gripped around the front of your hips, holding your lower body up with little effort. His hips snapped into you harshly, the sudden change in speed making your eyes water and roll back. “This. Fucking. Cunt,” he grunted out. “So fucking good,” he threw his head back, basking in the feeling of you wrapped around his length, the sounds of your wetness coupled by your whimpers and moans. “So fucking wet, you hear that baby?”
“Binnie” you cried out breathlessly, back straining to stay twisted to look at his hot, sweaty form. Your hand found his on your hip, barely squeezing it before you gave up and turned back around, resorting to grasping at the sheets, burying your face in them.
His hand came down harshly on your ass. “Don’t hold back, don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, slapping your ass again. He pulled your hair, your arms assisting in being pulled up to him. His arm once again found itself around your neck, the other holding your waist close to him as he continued to fuck you roughly.
You held onto his strong arm, his breaths in your ear, as his hand on your waist moved down to find your engorged, sensitive clit. Your body tensed up as he rubbed you, trying to withstand the pleasure. “You like this, baby? Like when I fuck you and rub your little clit?”
You couldn’t do anything but mewl and whine as your body bore down. Your nails dug into his skin as you took shallow breaths.
“Mm,” he hummed. “I love this pussy, best pussy.” His teeth catching the lobe of your ear.
“Binnie, close”
“I know, baby,” he continued to rub and fuck you, you bouncing in his lap a bit to chase your high. “Cum for me, baby.”
You let out a loud cry as your third orgasm hit you hard, your legs shook as your body thrashed erratically, but Changbin’s strong arms held you in place as he kept going, riding out your high.
“No more,” you whispered when the pleasure suddenly burned out into uncomfortable sensitivity. He stopped his motions, lowering you carefully to the bed.
“I got you baby, don’t worry,” his voice was soft as pulled back out of your cunt. He helped turn you around so you were on your back, your thighs tightly closed, trying to soothe your sore center. Changbin took a look at you, a soft smile on his face. After a moment, his hand caressed your cheek. He leant down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before sitting back up in all his glory.
Your eyes traveled down from his messy hair, his beautiful face, his eyes filled with so much love and adoration for you. The dim light bounced off his sweat-covered skin, his muscular frame moving slightly as he took deep breaths. You couldn’t help but reach out and run a hand on his firm pecs, traveling down to his belly as you felt him up. He blushed a bit, knowing how much you loved his body, whether he worked out everyday or didn’t have a six pack.
As your hand moved closer to his hips, your eyes caught the movement of his still hard cock twitching, anticipating your touch.
You opened your legs once again, legs bent to allow him room between them. Changbin’s eyes flickered down to your puffy, swollen folds, licking his lips at the sight.
“You’re still hard baby,” you cooed, reaching a hand down to spread your labia apart, your hole clenching in front of him. “You didn’t cum inside me.”
He bit his lip as he reluctantly tore his eyes away to look at your face again. His hands ran up your calves smoothly, a concerned quirk of his eyebrows. “You sure baby? I know you’re sore,” his finger ran down your slit, but not venturing any further.
“Please,” you mewled, reaching for his dick and guiding it to you. “Use me. I need your cum.” He cursed as his tip met your warmth again, you licked your lips as a new rush of wetness flooded your greedy core.
Changbin was still a bit hesitant, but his hips had a mind of their own as they plunged into you. You moaned at the painful pleasure, your raw hole still clenching to hold him deep inside. You were tighter than before, wetter than before, and Changbin didn’t take long to set up a pace, grabbing your hips to pull you into his thrusts, purely seeking his own pleasure.
He fucked you like a rag doll as you lay there and took it. “Cum baby, cum inside me,” you moaned.
Changbin couldn’t take his eyes off of you, your tits bouncing, your swollen folds, your fucked out face. Hit by an overwhelming emotion, he suddenly came close to you and found your lips. “Say you're mine,” he managed between kisses.
“I’m yours Binnie, only yours. Always.”
It only took a few more thrusts until he groaned into your mouth, pulling away to kiss down your jaw. His warmth shot into you as he let out soft moans with each spurt.
“Fuck, I love you, I love you,” he repeated as he rode out his high with shallow thrusts.
He laid his head on your chest, still buried within you, as your hands ghosted up and down the skin of his back. You waited until he caught his breath before your hands gently palmed his cheeks, guiding him to look up at you, his sweaty hair falling into his hooded eyes, the same soft smile on his face.
“I love you, too.”
209 notes · View notes
stvckwithaphobia · 2 days
— KITTEN [lee minho] 🐈‍⬛
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content/warning. lee minho x female reader — enemy!minho — smut — dom/sub dynamics — rough sex — unprotected penetrative sex (don’t do this) — creampie — breeding kink — slight sir kink — reader gets called kitten and slut
word count. 0.6k
note. wanted to write something about my ult and came up with this idea don’t expect too much of it pls — I hope you will enjoy this one in case you come across this :)
important. minors do not interact, this is 18+ content — none of the characters are supposed to imitate real people, any coincidences with names and places are just for the sake of fiction — if you enjoy this content pls consider leaving a comment or reblogging this!
“Shhh, kitten, you’ve gotta be quiet.”
His whispers are almost drowned out by the music blasting outside the club. However, you manage to hear him. The loud volume of the music isn’t the reason for losing track of your surroundings.
“Hm, don’t want to get caught, yeah? It would be so embarrassing if your friends found you, getting fingered in public like the needy little slut you are.”
It’s Lee Minho instead, three fingers deep inside your throbbing cunt right now. His lips hover over your neck which makes you arch your spine a little further. Your ass is pressing into his covered bulge now and he has no interest in hiding it.
“Min—Please i-it’s–“
Your words get caught in your throat like they always do.
It’s a reaccuring scene—meeting your somewhat enemy Minho at a club on a busy Friday, letting him pay for a drink—not enough to get you tipsy but to make you crave more.
Until he takes your hand and the both of you stand in that narrow alley once again, him shoving your body against the cold wall.
“It’s what, kitten?”
The nickname. He always uses it. Especially when he knows you’re getting close. Every time he feels you clench around his fingers, like you do just now—he does what he has to do. Pull them out. Make you ask for more—which you obediently do every time.
“N-Not enough–need your cock inside me.”
One could say you’re rather a puppy then his kitten, begging him to fuck you raw out there in the darkness. Lee Minho is a kind man when it comes to fulfilling your wishes. He’s a kind man now, too.
Slipping his other hand into the hem of his jeans, he pulls them and his boxers down enough to free his erection. You wish you were able to get a glance of his cock right now—probably standing upright and the tip covered in his precum.
“Minho—please, I n-need you to fill me, sir.”
Oh, and how he needs it just as much.
You’ll never get over the feeling of his cock entering with the first few inches, stretching your wet walls so good. Minho always makes sure to take his time with you, as he knows he’ll be more successful in having an impact on your brain this way.
“Then take it—take all of it and say thank you after, slut.”
Minho craves fucking you dumb way too often and you crave to allow him exactly this just as much. That’s what he’s doing now—shoving his length into your tight pussy, his thrusting movements making you spread your legs a little wider.
“Please—kitten needs your cum, all of it.”
He gets to pound into you even deeper this way and you welcome it. You’re past the point—only Minho and the way his cock is making you roll your eyes back in pleasure is occupying your mind right now. It’s as if he’s put you under a spell, as if he’s hypnotising you with the sharp movements of his hips.
“Hm, kitten wants me to bury my cock inside her? Fill her to the brim with my cum? I know you’d look so pretty with your breasts all swollen.”
And that’s the final straw. You clench around him with no ending in sight as your orgasm washes over you. Minho can’t help himself either and keeps his promise of granting you even the last drop of his cum.
“T-Thank you,” you stutter when the both of you have come down from your highs.
He pulls out shortly after, his mouth right at your ear now. 
“I’m keeping your underwear this time, kitten. Have fun walking back into the club with my cum seeping down your thighs.”
© stvckwithaphobia 2022 — don’t copy, translate or edit my work
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sir3racha · 3 days
Day Seventeen - Edging - Christopher Bang and Kim Seungmin
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Genre: Smut
Warnings: Mentions/Consumptions of Alcohol; Explicit Sexual Content; Orgasm denial; Pussy Slapping; Dacryphilia if you squint
Kinktober 2022 Masterlist
To say you were competitive would be an understatement.
To say you were a sore loser would be an even bigger understatement.
There was something about the satisfaction of winning that was so gratifying, so good, so inebriating, that no matter what it was, you tried to do it to the best of your ability. Whether it was playing Poker, Mario Kart, Uno, Just Dance, even something as trivial as a bet, you were committed to winning.
Perhaps it was a bad idea to announce this fondness for winning while you were drinking with two close friends, but the liquid courage in your system had lowered your common sense.
“I never lose,” You’d slightly slurred to your best friend Seungmin, his roommate Chris snorting at your statement. “I don’t! Losing isn’t in my vocabulary.”
“That’s subjective,” Chris argued, taking a drink of the amber liquid in his glass.
“No, I’m serious! Any game you can think of, I can win as easy as breathing!” You bragged, suddenly noticing the glint of mischief in Seungmin’s eye.
“Any game, huh?”
Truth be told, Seungmin was not merely a friend to you. While yes, you were friends, your friendship had escalated to one that provided benefits for the both of you. You’d had your share of sleepless, energetic nights together, and while you’d never openly told anyone personally, you were sure that Seungmin had mentioned it to Chris.
You watched with dwindling inhibitions as Seungmin and Chris shared a look, before they both turned back to you.
“How’s this for a game?”
And this was how you ended up where you were now.
You were drenched in sweat, shirt pulled up exposing your breasts as Chris pinched, twisted, and pulled at your nipples. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, the exposed area of your neck already blooming with marks from the older man. Every now and then he'd laugh, the husky noise making you tremble in his and Seungmin's grasp. The latter had his mouth attached to your clit, two fingers drenched in your slick as he quickly worked them in and out of you. Your legs shook as you once again felt your high getting closer, about to wash over you, but once again, Seungmin pulled away.
Your body convulsed as you cried out in pain, yet the pleasure was still too immense for you to even think about telling them to stop. "It hurts," You spoke, over and over again as if it was the only words you knew how to say. Chris cooed in fake sympathy, one of his hands going to caress your cheek, as Seungmin looked up at you with eyes that held fake innocence.
"What hurts, pretty?" Seungmin pouted, and your face reddened more than it already was, knowing that he wanted you to blatantly say the body part of yours that was throbbing, stinging, and aching for proper release.
"My," You chest heaved, and you licked your lips before swallowing your pride and finishing your statement, "My pussy hurts."
As soon as you had finished that statement, Seungmin reeled his arm back, landing five sharp, consecutive slaps onto your swollen, red cunt. Your legs shook violently as you cried out, Chris moving one of his arms across your torso as he held you in place. "Aw, your pussy hurts?" Seungmin taunted, landing another slap to your abused skin. "Poor little baby."
Tears openly fell from your eyes at this point as you sobbed quietly, becoming desperate for the relief you had craved. However, you still had your pride, and you were adamant to not to cum and lose the bet that the three of you had previously made.
"It's okay to cry, little one," Chris spoke softly to you, placing gently kisses to your cheek and jawline, "You can just say the word and then this'll all be over. Doesn't that sound like such a good idea?"
You inhaled deeply, blinking back whatever tears were in your eyes as you looked down at Seungmin and then over at Chris, the look in your eyes alone being enough to make them smile knowingly. "I told you I never lose," You spoke shakily, "and I'm not starting tonight."
Seungmin hummed as he positioned himself mouth-level with your heat once again, dark eyes never leaving yours. "Sounds good to us; tonight's gonna be interesting."
Chris hummed, his next statement making you swallow thickly as your body began to heat up even more. “Looks like we found the perfect little fuck doll, brother. It’s only fair we break it in, don’t you think?”
- - - - - - - - - -
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strayngesparkyds · 12 hours
☆ house ☆ #D3
"Ah... baby...you don't- fuck- you don't have to-" Chan tries to tell you. It's his instinct to first politely reject any form of kindness from anyone. That's how much of a gentleman he is.
And that includes getting a blowjob from you. Even when he knows very well he deserves more than just his dick in your mouth because he had just told you the surprise he's been keeping from you.
A house. He bought a house. For you. For the both of you.
"I want to," you say, fishing his half hard cock from his neatly pressed black slacks. "Wanna make you feel good. You bought a house. For us. You deserve more than just a blowjob."
Chan gulps at that. Chan loves giving. He's a giver. Be it in or out of bed. He prefers it, really.
But there's just something really hot about you being so determined to make him feel good.
"More?" Chan questions. This is already so much to him. You, so pretty on your knees, hands trying their best to grip onto his toned thighs so that he won't be able to run away.
He could move, really. He's a lot stronger than you. He could easily pull you up and make you sit on his lap, give you a soft lecture on how he doesn't need you to return any favours.
He just loves you. A lot. And he wants to have a place to call home with you. It's as simple as that.
But his brain is a mush. He's never seen you this determined before. So pretty. So fucking beautiful.
"Yes, more. First, we're gonna make you cum in my mouth," you tell him, thumb running over the tip of his cock, making him unintentionally buck his hips up, sensitive at your soft touch.
You giggle at him. So fucking cute.
"Your cock will be super sensitive but still be hard enough. So, I'm gonna fuck myself onto it. This big thing is just so wonderful, isn't it?" you continue, making Chan groan and moan so loud when you lick his cockhead.
"Baby fuck," he breathes, hands automatically threading through your hair in instinct.
You smile at him, loving how he's trying really hard to let you take the lead. You know he loves being the one giving instead of receiving but you really want to show him how much you appreciate him and his whole existence.
"And then we're gonna make you cum again. Inside me. And I'll let you fuck me on every surface of this house. Every single one. Anywhere you want to. We'll start here. On the couch-"
"Bed. Bed. Wanna- wanna fuck you on the bed first."
Chan's face is red. But he can't help it. As pussydrunk as he is, he can't let anywhere else be the first place he gets to fuck you. It has to be the bed. Your first official shared bed.
"Okay, baby. The bed it is. Anything for you. Anything for my wonderful boyfriend. Bought me a house and all, hmm? Gotta give you what you want."
You stand up, slowly letting go of his cock, letting it slap against his abs.
"I'm gonna be such a good girl for you, Channie. Gonna be the perfect wife for you."
Chan nearly chokes at that. Wife. Fuck. Fuck. He wants to marry you so bad. What the fuck are you doing to him?
"Don't tease," he mutters, groaning as he feels more precum oozing from his tip.
"You like it. You like it when I call myself your little wifey. Is that what you told the realtor, baby? That you're buying this house for your wife?"
You can't help it. He's too cute. Oh you would love to marry him when the time is right.
"Wife," Chan breathes, the word rolling from his tongue sounding so natural. "My wife," he says again, head already going dumb just from imagining that future with you.
"I'm here," you say softly, noticing how Chan is a little out of it. It makes you smile. "You'll be a good husband and make me a mommy, right?" you tease him again, knowing it's his ultimate weakness - breeding you.
Chan whimpers. "I can go raw tonight?"
"You can, baby."
"You'll keep my cum inside?"
"I will. Promise."
"Anything you want."
"Wanna buy you another house."
242 notes · View notes
chalamentgfd · 2 days
✦ 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙙𝙨 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙨
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✦ — pairing: skz x reader
✦ — genre: fluff
✦ — cws: none
✦ — length: apx. 1322
✦ — N/A: i think this is awful, sorry, but i liked the ideas so i posted
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✦ — Bangchan Summer Love
Summer love, it can go right, or it can go wrong. But it will definitely give you good memories and great memories of love that you told your children.
“I wish summer never ended” Chan says breaking the silence, it was your last week here, and you decided to make the most of it, so here you were sitting on the beach looking at the stars.
“You're being cheesy again” You joke, getting up to peck him, secretly wanting that too. You loved him, and it hurt to think that he would have to go back to Korea and you go back to your normal life without him.
Maybe next summer you can be together again.
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✦ — Lee Kow Black cat x golden retriver
You are outgoing and like to go out hugging and holding hands, the biggest fan of PDA while Lee and more in his likes your space more in his and opens up with only those he really likes and loves, you have few things in common, but the feeling they have one fur, another is huge But when everyone asks how you can be together you always open a smile and answer that you were everything that was missing in each other.
“I don't want to get up today, can we cuddle all day?” Minho asks burying his face in the pillow not wanting to get up to start his day “You have to work and so do I, well no, we can't" you answer already getting up and stretching to start the day at that very moment Soonie enters the room taking your place in bed.
“Sonnie liked my idea, see? I like her more than you" he hugs the cat giving several kisses on his face already waking up for the day.\
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✦ — Changbin Best friend's brother
Everything can go right and wrong on these topics, but on this issue I like to think positively. You were always very open with her friend about her crush on her brother since she was best friends with her, you thought it only fair to tell her that.
As soon as you noticed her feelings, you told her, so she was the couple's biggest shipper and always tried to get you together, and it even worked.
“I am very happy to see that I helped this beautiful couple to form, you know I always heard stories of how Y/N would passionately imagine this day” Your best friend said, getting some laughs from the guests, and you felt your cheeks heat up which did not go unnoticed by Binnie who smiled giving a quick kiss on her cheek
That's when you realized your teenage fantasies had come true, and you were marrying the guy you loved dearly.
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✦ — Hyunjin childhood friends
You've known each other practically since the cradle and have always been very close.
When they were little they were inseparable, they always went to the same places and did the same things. Your mothers even joked that you would end up together, until you were 12 you said it was nonsense, but now you don't think that anymore, and you feel really in love and something that was always there and grew and matured with you two.
“Sometimes I think my mom likes you more than me” (Queen Hyunjin Drama Mode on) he complained when you told him about your little walk with your mother-in-law this afternoon
“Oh dear, don't worry. I may be your mom's favorite, but you'll always be my favorite” you play giving him a peck.
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✦ — Han enimes to lovers
Ever since you joined Han's group of friends, he's teased you. At first, you were upset because everyone liked you and got along with you except him, for months you had thousands of attempts to make him like you and none of them worked (in your point of view) so you gave up tired of it and remembering if you didn't need his approval.
What you didn't know that "not liking you" was Han's petty and childish way of hiding his feelings for you, as soon as he saw you he liked and fell in love, but he was too cowardly to admit it, so he hid it as best he could.
But since you didn't know that this was the worst situation you could be stuck in the basement with the person who hates you the most, you were at yet another party at a friend's house when the wine ran out, and you offered to pick it up like you didn't was familiar with this house your friend asked Han to go with you, which no one knew, and the door would get stuck.
"Shit won't open" you say, trying to push the door again. "Let me try to go" Han takes control of the situation also failing to open the door.
You were hating the situation already, dark place + han = not good, you thought it couldn't get any worse that's when you felt something on your shoulder so the most logical thing to do was scream and grab the first thing you thought was safe, no However the "safe thing” was Han.
It was only after some time trying to recover from the fright that you noticed and widened your eyes you were practically on top of him with your hands on his chest few feelings far from his face, but you noticed something different in his look at you that was always something distant cold was full of something different that you couldn't distinguish "What are you doing?"
He asked softly until it sounded like he was afraid to ask.
"I… have…" as soon as you were about to finish the sentence your friend opens the cellar door worried about your delay, as soon as you heard the noise of the door you walked away at the time turning to your friend with a look like children caught in the act
"Y/n? Han? I forgot to tell you that the door has a problem, come on" Your friend says, picking up the bottle you had left on the table near the door, returning to the room. Before you could finish the sentence since your friend was out of reach, Han quickly left after her leaving you confused.
The rest of the night you felt a different gaze coming from him but never being able to be alone with him to question him, but something tells you that something has changed or revealed itself.
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✦ — Felix forbiden love
Your parents didn't like the idea of you dating, they thought he wasn't good enough and that his idol life was going to hurt you, you argued strongly with your parents about it, claiming that there was nothing wrong with the relationship and that you could be happy.
'you shouldn't fight with them because of me, maybe they even are…' Felix says after you tell him the newest tropic of the argument with his parents
'It doesn't even end' you interrupted before he finished the sentence 'listen to me, there is nothing wrong with you, with me or with our relationship, we agreed to make it work! And come on, with or without my parents, you finish your little speech by smiling at him and reassuring him.
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✦ — Seungmin friends with benefits
It NEVER works out, let's be obvious you have to be very cold not to fall in love with that person, here it was no different.
You agreed with that, but he only accepted it because of his hidden feelings. He thought the best way was to accept it because in his head it was better to have a part of you than to have nothing.
In the middle of this story you also fall in love, but nothing in FWB has to be simple, it takes forever for you to confess and feel such feelings clearly.
“I swear if it didn't work out tonight I would go crazy” he comments lying on your bed with you in his arms. He burst out and told you what he felt, thank God you also felt the same
“And I'm glad it worked out” you comment smiling from ear to ear finally being able to call Seungmin yours.
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✦ — Jeongin high school friends
You were friends who always got imply and were in love with each other but neither party confessed and ended up separating over time but thanks to fate they found each other again, the passion didn't go away you may have had a few people there or here but nothing too serious or compared to the love you felt for each other
"Remember when we used to scape off we parent and come here?" You ask smiling at the memories sipping your drink looking out over the dark lawn.
"Eh good times, we used to have fun" he smiles looking at you finding you more beautiful than ever, he thought that when he saw you again the passion would be gone, but he was wrong it came stronger than ever. But now he couldn't let you go.
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✦ — N/A: if you liked this post reblog (helps get it to a wider audience) And comment, I would really like to know your opinion and if I should do more
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baby-iloveyou · 3 days
A picture for a picture
pairing: Bang Chan from Stray Kids x gn!reader genre: smut but it's not very extreme warnings: sexting, tease!chan, some (blurred) images of sussy summary: Chan is on tour with the rest of the group, and you as his significant other obviously miss him a lot. And he misses you too. He just misses you a bit more today than other days... word count: ??? 13 images lol
writer notes: so i tried out something new this time! idk whether this concept and layout is cringy but i think it fit the theme a lot better than just writing it out plain. this was HEAVILY inspired by the photos chan just dropped like bombs on instagram - it was something that just popped into my mind and forced me to quickly 'write' this, hope you enjoy :)
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