#turning up your screen brightness seems to help a little with that if you want to see it as it ought to be seen!
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How Much Is An SSR Worth?
Summary: Ren gets Taiga's help. SFW.
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The Sinostra students looked up at the approaching stranger. Their looks were clearly unfriendly, untrustworthy, and some of them even reached in their blazers as if for weapons(were they allowed to walk around campus armed!?) Ren froze and grit his teeth, looking at the little group of gangsters and at the blood red mop of hair of their leader who didn't even turn around to acknowledge him. He was starting to regret thinking this could work--there was no way this was worth it.
Before he could start to back away, the Captain of the Sinsotra house tipped his head further back, directing a pair of bright yellow eyes at him from where they'd been staring emptily into the ceiling. Ren froze. The slow blink he received reminded him of a cat video he'd seen online, albeit significantly less cute and even less likely to be a sign of affection.
". . .who're you?"
Ren briefly felt like he'd been transported into a mafia movie. It was the gravel in his voice, or maybe the cold look in his eyes.
He floundered for a bit, trying to come up with a way to bring up why he came over that didn't sound ludicrous to a normie. Just looking at this guy, he wouldn't know a thing about what he was talking about or needed--but he knew he might be his only hope right now. Maybe Taiga caught on to that hopelessness, or maybe he was amused by the fumbling, because his dull expression became a curious and interested one.
"Oh. Ain't you one of Harry's kids?" Harry? Did Haru know this guy!? Somehow that made it worse. Taiga spun around in his seat to look at Ren properly, his excited expression showing off his shark-like teeth. Those might be cool, if not for that he followed this question up with, "you here to bring me my lunch?"
"Your lunch?"
"Yeah. One of my guys promised me he'd get me something to eat." Taiga gave a sideways nod to the Sinostra students who were sitting with him. "And Harry's place is full of all that fresh meat, ain't it? You ain't here to deliver anything for me?"
"Fresh--" He wanted to eat the anomalies? Was anybody in this place normal? "N-no, I'm not here to bring you anything!"
"Oh." Taiga deflated and pouted. "So, who the fuck are you then? You got a debt to pay? Lulu doesn't like me doing business outside the casino without him around, but I can still handle that."
This was definitely starting to feel like Ren was in over his head.
"I just. I heard some things."
"Oooh." Taiga, once again, thinks he's got it and smiles. "You need a loan? You want some illicit goods? You want somebody to turn up in Tokyo Bay?"
"What!? No!! Are you seriously saying all that shit in broad daylight!?"
"Maybe I'm not serious about it at all!" Taiga laughed, seeming amused by Ren's increasing discomfort.
"I don't need things from Sinostra! I heard some things about you! I need something from you!"
Taiga was quiet for a moment, head tilted and eyes wide like he wasn't expecting personal business. Then he pouted again, looking off to the side. "Is Lulu trying to. . .nah, he wouldn't do that. Not without tellin' me. . .selling someone's organs would be a lot more lucrative than whoring me out anyway." He muttered to himself for a moment, while Ren fished his phone out of his pocket and thrust it towards him.
He immediately jumped back as the Sinostra students drew weapons to point at him. Taiga held up a hand to stop them from gunning someone down in the cafeteria and stared dully into the screen.
". . .the fuck is this?"
"I don't have a lot of resources and I don't have a lot of time--and I heard your luck is incredible, and I just need you to press this button here."
Ren pointed at a confirmation button on the screen, careful not to tap it. Taiga stared at it as if it weren't two sentences worth of text and it was taking a long time to read.
He reached forward and tapped the screen, then snatched Ren's wrist when he tried to pull away and protest being taken out of it. A few colorful characters appeared from behind the darkened screen of the confirmation popup. The link advertising rates immediately caught Taiga's eye, and he tapped at the screen, scrolling through the numbers with increasing interest.
The rates for the most artful of characters were insanely low, and a quick tap of the gems in the top of the screen said they cost a pretty penny. He idly committed the prices and numbers to memory(where they were lost as soon as he moved away from the screen) to calculate the value of.
"What're you doing!? I just--you just have to do the pull! You don't need to look at anything else!"
"This is gambling!" Taiga said cheerfully. "Some real shit odds at that! What, you're going for that one? It looks kinda like you, kid!"
He pointed at a character near the top of the rate screen. "No, I pulled that one already, somehow. . .it's the topmost one I'm after. Everybody says it's completely overpowered and all of the new meta's based on this unit, not to mention the art--"
Taiga nodded along, the gacha having had drawn some of his interest as a gambler. Way less fun than a game with anything of interest on the line, but it still seemed interesting. Not the characters or units or anything of that sort, but the act of pulling for things of value. . .he supposed it was named after gachapon machines. But the virtual nature of it meant less limited potential. . .so the artificial scarcity was formed by limited time features like this.
Quite the business tactic. Romeo might like it.
"So you just need me to press this button here, yeah?" Taiga navigated back to the gacha as though he'd been playing the game since release. He was almost invested now. "And you want me to get you this thing or whatever."
"Yes!! If you can!!" Taiga sneered and popped open the confirmation menu.
"Kid, I don't lose bets--"
Once again guns were pointed at Ren as he grabbed Taiga's finger before he could do the pull. Not appreciating the contact, Taiga smacked his hand away, and he winced at the feeling of his rings colliding with his palm.
"You--" he swallowed, trying to ignore the threats. The look on Taiga's face almost made him want to call it quits again. This was already way more effort than it was worth. . .to a normal person, anyway, but this pull could be the true beginning or the end of his playing this game. "You need to hold down on the screen, after you press the button. It doesn't seem like it does anything, but I swear I've gotten better pulls that way--"
"I don't need your superstitions, brat."
With that, Taiga tapped the button without even looking at the screen, glaring uncomfortably into Ren's face. At first, he was frozen, before the audio cue prompted him to spin the phone screen to face himself. "Wait, you did a single pull!? You were supposed to do a ten, the rate is higher that way!"
"Don't need it."
"But if I don't get it that's a waste of my--!!!"
Ren's jaw dropped as the screen flashed a multitude of colors. The gacha music faded out, and a new track began to play, a popular voice actress' recorded line playing accompanying the subtitled dialogue being spelt out across the screen. His eyes went wide as the SSR's unique animation played, and he watched on as his desperately desired pull came through on a single, effortless shot from a stranger.
"Holy shit you got it." Taiga grinned, looking over Ren's shoulder at the new unit, completely unaware of what it meant. At most, the art was kind of nice. Ren looked like he was holding in tears--or maybe a scream. "You actually. . .in a single pull!?"
"Gyahahaha! Told you I don't lose, kid!" He threw an overly friendly arm around Ren's shoulders. Ren looked at Taiga like he was a hero. Of course he did, until Taiga said, "hey. . .you ever heard the expression 'there's no such thing as a free lunch?'"
For a moment, Ren remembered all of the things Taiga mentioned before. Debts. Deaths. Illicit substances. His face fell, and Taiga gave him a squeeze and a friendly shake and a smile that was more sinister than sincere. For a moment, Ren wondered if he'd gotten himself into something he couldn't get out of. Did this single gacha pull just pull him into a life of crime? Was he about to be some sort of drug runner for the local organized crime house? Did he need to kill somebody? Could he kill somebody?
". . .What do I owe you?" It was just a gacha pull! Why did he go to the guys who look like the mob for a gacha pull!? What a stupid idea, just because he overheard that the captain of Sinostra had some unbelievable luck. The triumphant music playing from his phone and the animated character on the screen offered him no comfort and Taiga bore his sharp teeth in a grin.
"I'm glad you asked! Lulu throws a little bitchfit whenever I do somebody a favor without a price, even if it's a personal favor and not a Sinostra one." He leaned his cheek against Ren, tapping painted nails against his chest. "And I'd guess you'd ordinarily need to do a lot more than just one pull to get what you wanted, yeah? Maybe ten, maybe even a hundred?"
Ren nodded stiffly. The rates for this game were abysmal. But it was addictive.
"So the value. . .it's way more than just one, isn't it." He couldn't remember the numbers he'd seen earlier exactly, but he could do some calculations in his head. If he bothered to. But he knew enough people with gambling addictions to know how Ren's mind worked. This service was nigh invaluable to him. "And I saved you money. That's practically worth interest."
"W-wait a second!" Ren pulled away--or, perhaps Taiga let Ren pull away. "This didn't cost you anything but a few seconds, maybe a couple minutes! The gems you spent on the pull, they weren't even 1,000 yen in total! I could pay you that out of pocket and--"
"Y'know what? You're right. It didn't cost me a thing, what'm I even saying!" He laughed and smiled in a friendly way. Ren didn't trust the sudden change in attitude in the slightest. He'd let his guard down. But it couldn't stay down. "Hell, it was even kinda fun. All the flashy lights and pretty sounds--and you got your little drawing out of it, right? Not to mention, you're one of Harry's kids, aren't'cha!"
"Eugh. I am not his. . . ." Ren stopped himself, then grit his teeth. This could save him. Haru could be of use for once. "Y-yeah, I uh. . .he's a great. . .father. . .? Anyway, if you had fun and I got what I wanted, then we're even, right?"
"Sure, sure!" Taiga clapped Ren on the shoulder. "Hey, you got more of those things you want? It was pretty fun, I wouldn't mind helping you out again if you ever want more!"
This appealed too heavily to Ren's sensitivities for him to stay on guard like he wanted. ". . .really? If you don't get results, I'm not asking you again."
"Yeah, really! I'm waiting on my lunch anyway, what else've you got?"
". . .and I don't have to pay?"
"Nah, no cash. No crazy favors. Don't even worry about it."
That specific wording should have tipped him off that he wasn't entirely off scott free, but the idea of more free SSRs in his account catalogue enticed him too much. Taiga looked at his phone screen and tapped through to the gacha again.
". . .well. . .the unit gets stronger if you manage to pull it a second time--or, up to five times. So we could try pulling for it again. And there's another unit I wanted to get--oh, and in a different game--"
Taiga went along with Ren's increasing excitement, tapping away at the screen. Ten-pulls glimmered with high rarity units and supports even as games were switched. A few times Ren even asked Taiga to perform actions in the game for him, cheering quietly when he got him through difficult story missions that had been keeping him stuck in place for weeks.
All the while, Taiga insisted there was no charge.
But he didn't say anything about no debt.
And he may have said that Ren didn't have to pay, but that didn't mean he wouldn't extract value from him in other ways. In a few weeks Ren would be staring into the pen for some anomalous animal, wondering how he would get it all the way to Sinsotra without arousing suspicion, and trying not to think of the way he saw Taiga eat raw meat and bone that day, complaining to the student who'd brought it for him that it wasn't fresh enough but it'd do.
He refused to blame himself for all of this though. It's not his fault the guy with improbable luck was a mafia boss. It's not his fault the mafia boss was an underhanded carnivore. And it sure as hell wasn't his fault he was assigned to the house full of animals!
And it wasn't his fault that the gacha rates were so low he went this route either. It's capitalism's fault! It's the fault of companies preying on gambling addictions! He's not to blame for this! He refused to be!
#Tokyo debunker#taiga hoshibami#ren shiranami#danie yells at tokyo debunker#danie yells writing#huh. i didn't mean to make a whole fic out of that thought.#also ren is out of character i'm sure i didn't properly review his character before writing this it all just kind of came out#i just think it'd be funny if ren went to taiga for gacha pulls because he's always got such good luck#think of the ssrs!!!!#i haven't written a fic in. . .a while lol#also i hope i didn't write ren with a w at some point. that's a different guy.
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another tough day on the road
#em draws stuff#frontier wolf#slightly belated summer of sutcliff#first pass at an alexios in my usual style in preparation for a some other drawing#in other news I am so proud of how the wolf fur turned out but I Never Want To Do That Again#in the next few months you will likely see me eat those words because I do plan on more frontier wolf art#still workshopping my alexios design as this isn't quite perfect#in my head alexios is just Keith But Short but visually I should Not Do That#unfortunately this one is also one of the ones that shows up differently on the computer than in its original state#turning up your screen brightness seems to help a little with that if you want to see it as it ought to be seen!#alas I don't think his outfit is very good either but I do have the excuse of having drawn this mid-lecture#c'mon em the cool book of clothing explanations is of no use if you do not actually Look At It while you draw..#ah well! the fish cannot be trained.#FINAL POINT and that is that no matter how bad I did it I cannot have done it worse than whoever did the book cover of the copy I have#why do I keep ending up so deeply enamored with books so very prone to the most unhinged cover art
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“what’s on these?” megumi asks, holding up a box of memory cards.
cleaning day always unearthed all types of lost and forgotten items. sometimes it was clothes long forgotten in you and gojo’s closet, other times it was the kid’s old books or toys. you knew every inch of your little apartment, so most times you could identify any mystery items that came up.
“i don’t know,” you hum, plucking a card from the box to inspect it a little more closely. the only hint as to what’s actually on it seems to just be a date.
2006
…and it’s in gojo’s handwriting.
curious, you pop one into the video player and turn on the tv. the kids join you on the couch, clearly eager to entertain any distraction from your cleaning crusade.
when the screen flickers to life, a familiar courtyard comes into view.
you can’t help the gasp when haibara comes into focus…but then you see satoru standing standing across from him, arms spread out.
“who is that?” megumi asks, pointing at haibara.
you think of the bright smile of the boy still lingering in the edges of your memory and tell him, softly, “an old friend.”
“suguru!” gojo shouts, looking towards the person holding the camera. he’s all messy hair and wide smiles, exactly how you remember him in his youth. “make sure you get this one!”
geto grumbles about how he’s paying attention, and suddenly you remember exactly what this is.
“ah, these are from when yaga would make us record ourselves practicing cursed technique application,” you explain as a haibara lines up a shot with a pencil.
the pencil hits gojo in the face, gifting him a small cut on his cheek. “ah, shit!”
behind the camera you can hear nanami and geto laughing as haibara apologizes profusely, and shoko comes over to practice her healing. you come over too, holding a cloth.
“don’t pout,” your younger self says, reaching up to wipe a thin trail of blood from his cheek. “you’ll get it next time.”
as soon you turn away, you hear geto snicker and the camera suddenly zooms in on gojo’s face.
he’s blushing.
“ugh,” you hear him groan behind the three of you, finally finished cleaning the bathroom. “are we done cleaning yet?”
“we’re taking a break!” tsumiki tells him, as megumi pops another card in.
gojo ignores megumi’s protests, stealing the spot on the couch next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a smirk. “move your feet, lose your seat.”
tsumiki, angel that she is, moves over so her brother can sit on your other side as the video starts.
this time, gojo is the one recording, holding the camera out so it’s pointed at his own smiling face. “haibara versus nanami, round one!”
you feel your boyfriend stiffen beside you, looking over to see an odd look on his face. “oh, fuck—”
“jar,” megumi says flatly.
he glares at the kid, and is about to get up when you stop him. “wait! i want to watch this!”
he slumps back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he groans dramatically. ignoring him, you watch the fight play out, which ends with haibara whining whilst in a headlock.
you hear geto’s murmured commentary off camera as nanami releases his classmate, expecting the video to zoom in on the victor.
but it drifts a little to the left, where you’re laughing with shoko on the sidelines.
“so obvious,” geto scoffs. the video wobbles for a moment before being pointed directly at the tips of satoru’s shoes, then ends abruptly.
when you glance over at satoru, he’s pulled his sunglasses over his eyes as if they can hide his pink cheeks.
the next videos are similar. memories of your past viewed through a different lens, showing you things you’d never picked up on when you were living them.
some moments you watch with an aching heart. like when suguru leans close to you and makes a joke at satoru’s expense, or when you reach up to ruffle haibara’s hair.
(moments with cherished friends proving that the grief of losing them never got any lighter as you moved forward with your life, but at some point you’d just gotten used to carrying the weight.)
but what might be most interesting is seeing yourself in satoru’s eyes.
his focus, whether he was the one holding the camera or not, always seemed to drift to you. for all the times he’d denied crushing on you in your early years, the camera proves otherwise.
the way he peeks at you shyly as you fix your hair before a fight.
the way he reaches out instinctively whenever you’re knocked backwards.
the way he smiles brightly whenever you laugh at one of his jokes.
the way your gaze would occasionally meet his, and his smile seemed to come naturally.
“okay, that’s enough for tonight,” satoru announces, shutting the tv off and shooing the children away. “go clean your rooms, you freeloaders.”
you stand, looping your arms around his neck before he can run away. smiling, you gently pull his glasses off, tossing them onto the couch.
“hey! those are gucci—”
you shut him up with a kiss, feeling the way his lips curve upwards against yours. “i love you, you know that?”
blue eyes meet yours, the pensive look he’d been wearing melting into something a little softer. something reserved for you. “you’re obsessed with me, i know.”
you simply laugh, letting him dip down to give you another kiss.
(because you’d had his heart in your pocket long before either of you had realized.)
#thank u cherrykoo12 for this prompt omg#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#keeping up with the fushigojos
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JJBA men thinking of you while masturbating
NSFW / Minors don't interact / 18+
Characters: Jotaro Kujo / Bruno Bucciaratti / Josuke Higashikata / Rohan Kishibe / Giorno Giovanna x female reader
Warnings: male masturbation, fantasies about sex (blowjobs, penetrative sex), slight exhibitionism, voyeurism (Josuke’s part)
Notes: All underage characters aged up of course. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <3
Jotaro Kujo
Jotaro is used to being the one pined over, the one admired, turning people’s heads, the constant touch of careful hands, being adored for his sheer height and width.
What he isn’t used to, however, is being the admirer.
Since he’s laid his eyes on you, he got to know the feeling. He didn’t even realize it at first. Of course, he wants to study with you, and naturally, he wants your opinion on the latest seminar paper he has written, certainly, he wants to help you with your work. You’re his fellow student, his friend.
But when Jotaro used his stand to stop the time for just a few seconds, to freeze the sweet smile on your face as you looked at him, eyes bright and glowing, to just observe you longer like this, he realized that maybe, you’re not just his friend. Maybe, you mean more to him.
And as he sits in the library now, unable to focus on his laptop screen in front of him, he turns his head to look at you. And he’s sure; you’re not just his friend.
He can see the subtle shadow under your eyes, the way your eyelids seem too heavy, and your disheveled hair. Something tears at his very heart when he gazes at you.
You turn your head, shooting him a tired, nonetheless, sweet smile.
“Could you look at this?” You ask him, pointing at your laptop.
Jotaro nods, scooting closer to you with his chair.
The lack of proximity makes it hard for him to concentrate on the words before him, let alone your voice as you try to explain your work. He hums here and there, his eyes taking in the words, his brain not comprehending the meaning.
He can smell your scent, your subtle and sweet perfume. He feels your heat on his skin. Jotaro slightly turns his head. You’re so close, he can see every pore of your skin, your lashes, the distinct color of your eyes, and the gentle sweep of your nose. He swallows hard against the dryness of his mouth.
You turn your head, slightly rising your eyebrows, your gaze locking with his. His gaze drops to your glistening lips, his desire for you flaring hot in his chest. His head dips forward automatically, every cell of his urging him to lock his lips with yours.
His chair nearly falls over as he stands up abruptly.
“What are you doing?” You ask perplexed.
Jotaro ignores you. He can’t face you like this.
The library is almost vacant. He moves along the high shelves until his breathing has normalized a bit.
He leans against one of the shelves, trying desperately to ignore the way his blood runs hotly through his veins, the way it rushes down his body.
It’s palpable, the way he longs for you, the way he yearns to touch you. His half-hardened dick twitches in his pants at the thought of it.
He buries his face in his hands, embarrassed at his own weakness. Memories of you flood his mind; your shining lips, your bright eyes, your scent.
His head falls back against the books on the shelf, his hands dangling feebly on his side. Jotaro can’t seem to get ahold of himself. His mind is racing, he sees you, putting up your hair, exposing your slender neck, he sees you, sitting next to him, your short dress riding up your thighs.
It seems like the rational part of his brain stopped functioning. He’s not even fully aware of what he’s doing, so caught up with thinking of you, until a little sigh drips from his lips.
He looks down, seeing his dick straining noticeably against his pants, his hand palming him through his trousers.
His face flushes hot, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. No one is around, he assures himself once more.
It has no use stopping now.
Hurriedly, he tugs down his pants and boxers. His cock springs free, right into his grip. He hisses at the drag of his palm along his dick. It feels so good. The slight possibility of getting caught only heightens his lust.
He watches his fist drag along his length, taking in the bead of pre-cum dropping along his shaft, easing the glide of his hand.
He thinks about your thighs again, how soft they would feel as he’d let his large hands smooth along them, and what he would find when you spread them for him.
His head tips back against the shelf, his eyes fluttering shut as he slightly increases his pace. He imagines your glistening pussy, dripping for him. He’d sink his long, thick fingers into you, curling and scissoring them until he has you whimpering and whining, begging for him to finally fuck you.
Jotaro can practically see your expression; your doe-eyes peering at him, your lips parted, your body trembling. A low groan rips past his chest, his fist squeezing his cock just a little tighter.
He pictures you, sitting atop of him, your delicate hands pressing against his chest as you lower yourself on his dick, slowly taking him in, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he fills you up completely. He would watch your pretty tits bouncing with every move of yours, and the beautiful, lust-drunk expression on your face.
His hips stutter forward into his fist as he imagines rutting into you, holding your hips so tightly as he fucks up into you. He can practically hear your moans, your sweet, whiny whimpers, and the way his skin slaps against yours.
Jotaro increases the pace of his hand, concentrating on his sensitive tip, a strained gasp falling from his parted lips.
He imagines you cumming, his name drops from your lips, drawn out into a delirious moan. He can almost feel it; the way your pussy would spasm around his throbbing dick, practically urging him to spill his seed into you.
A string of curses leave his lips, his hips stuttering into his hand once more before he cums. He jerks through his orgasm, a spurt of cum dripping down his dick, onto his hand, with each hurried stroke. He thinks about rolling his hips into you, letting your pussy milk him dry as a mess of your slick and his cum runs down your thighs.
He shallowly thrusts into his fist until he’s hissing from overstimulation. His heavy eyes flutter open, his heart racing in his heaving chest as his gaze drops.
A strained sigh drops from his lips as he takes in his messy hand holding his weeping length. Slowly, he comes back down to earth, realizing what he’s just done.
His head snaps in the direction where you’re probably sitting, hopefully, still staring at your laptop screen. And Jotaro just stands here, a few meters away, his released emotions for you tainting his hand.
Bruno Bucciaratti
It’s obvious that you’re new on the job. Bruno doesn’t notice this solely because he’s a regular at the restaurant and hasn’t seen you before.
Rather, it is the way you fail to see the subtle signs the guests give you, asking for the check or mixing up orders one too many times.
You’re the new waitress. And until now you don’t do a great job.
It’s obvious that you’re stressed, evident from the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead and the way your cheeks glow. A wave of sympathy washes over Bucciaratti as he watches you rush around the restaurant. And he feels something more, a little tug in his chest because you just look so unbelievably cute while doing that.
He’s not even mad that he already had to wait so long for you to finally bring him his wine. Because when you do, he can look at you from up close, observing your delicate fingers place the wine glass on his table, watching the loose strands of hair hanging into your face.
And when he thanks you, the smile you give him makes the minutes worth the wait.
His eyes hang onto your body as he watches you retreat. He’s glad that his fellow gang members aren’t here right now because they surely would tease him for being a pervert or something. But he just can’t help himself, his eyes greedily glide along your silhouette.
Bruno takes a sip of his wine, trying to cool down the hotness rushing through his body.
He orders his second glass and he’s not sure if he just flatters himself, but he’s pretty sure that you pay particular attention to him. Or maybe he’s just deluding himself.
When you walk towards him, his eyes cling to your waist and the way your trousers hug you so right. You look amazing; even when you’re stressed.
He breathes in your scent when you lean closer to him, basking in the feeling of your warmth.
The clang of the glass rudely rips him out of his thoughts.
Seems like you’re not only incredibly gorgeous but also incredibly clumsy.
The wine leaks over the table, staining the white tablecloth red and spilling all over his pants.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” The panic in your voice is palpable.
“Don’t worry,” he tries to soothe you.
He watches your eyes nervously flickering over the mess you made before they lock with his.
You look at him with so much gratitude because he doesn’t make a big scene. His heart flutters in his chest.
You quickly take ahold of a napkin, dabbing it on his trousers, trying to let the fabric soak up the liquid.
You’re so close, bending down, granting him an intimate look right on your cleavage. Bruno swallows hard, reluctantly averting his gaze.
He can barely hear you muttering your apologies. He just tries to stay calm, to think of anything other than your hand smoothing along his thigh, rubbing over his stained trousers.
The motion just makes a flood of sinful associations enter his mind. He can practically feel his face growing hot.
Abruptly he gets up. You look at him startled.
“Sorry did I-“
“I’m just going to clean myself up, no worries really,” he adds, unable to bear the way you gaze at him.
The stain is big, bright red, clearly noticeable on his white trousers. The soap and water he applies have no use in helping it whatsoever.
He doesn’t even care, his mind is somewhere else anyway.
Bruno just can’t get over the way you looked up at him, the lack of proximity you two found yourself in, and the way you were practically kneeling in front of him. He can only think about you doing other things in that position.
A long sigh escapes his mouth. He surrenders, stopping to take care of his stain. His head falls against the closed bathroom door and he allows himself to let his desires take hold of his body and mind.
His dick strains hard against his pants as he sees you in front of him again, kneeling, with those doe eyes peering up at him.
He frees his cock from the confinement of his pants, wrapping his hand tightly around his girth. Bruno hisses quietly, dragging his hand along his throbbing length, imagining it is your hand wrapped around him instead.
He visualizes your hand pumping into his swollen head, the way his cock would look so big in comparison. A low gasp drops from his lips as a bead of pre-cum drips down his shaft, easing the glide of his eager hand.
His head tips back against the door, thinking about you kneeling in front of him, looking up at him as your delicate hand strokes his cock.
The pace of his hurried hand increases, as he envisions you taking him into your mouth, softly sucking on his flushed tip, your eyes peering up at him obediently. He bites back a low whine.
He sees your beautiful face in front of him; your glowing face, your starry eyes, as you take all of him inside of your pretty mouth. His hands would thread through your hair, holding you, feeling the restriction of your tight throat. And then you would follow his guidance, bobbing your head just how he likes it.
Bruno groans quietly. “Just like that,” he mutters, pumping hurriedly into his swollen head.
He can clearly see you in his mind, those unbelievable eyes staring up at him, tears spilling over as he ruts into the wet, soft heat of your mouth. His hips involuntarily rut forward into his fist.
A low whine slips past his lips, which he has no control over. He practically feels your swollen lips wrapped around him.
His hips stutter forward into his hands, two, three times before he tips over the edge. His orgasm washes over him, his thighs tensing, breathing erratic.
Bucciaratti jerks through his orgasm, panting hard, imagining his dick pulsing in your mouth, his cum landing on your awaiting tongue as you swallow everything that he gives you.
Then he’d pull out, letting his hot spurts of cum land on your beautiful face, mixing in with your spit, dripping down your chin, your cheeks. He groans desperately, seeing your messy face, your lips parted, opening your mouth eagerly for him, glassy eyes staring up at him obediently as he paints your face white.
His fist pumps into his swollen tip until he hisses from the overstimulation. Only then he slowly opens his eyes, taking in his soiled hand.
This mess may compete with the one you spilled on his table.
Josuke Higashikata
Sometimes Josuke really has to wonder if you do it on purpose. Can you really be that unaware of your surroundings, this clueless?
It isn’t the first time he has watched you like this. Far from it actually.
Since you’ve moved into the house right next to his, you made a habit of getting undressed, late in the evening or night, your light illuminating the room, leaving little room for imagination.
You haven’t invested in any kind of curtains yet and your lucky neighbor hopes you never will.
It has kind of become a habit of his, watching you through his dark windows, careful that you don’t notice him. And you never do.
Josuke observes how you lose your sweater first, followed by the top you were wearing underneath. He sucks in a little breath when he notices that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. He can clearly see the outline of your bare breast, the way they softly jiggle as you throw the top somewhere.
Blood rushes down his body as his eyes greedily glide along your exposed upper body, your beautiful tits, your soft tummy, and your waist. He swallows against the dryness of his mouth, desperately hoping that one day he could be the one undressing you.
You open your jeans now, letting them plummet on the floor before stepping out of them. You bent over, picking them up to fold them away.
Fortunately for him, this gives him a perfect view of your ass. He can see your pussy through your panties, squished between those perfect asscheeks.
His heart beats violently against this ribcage, his blood running hot. He can feel it; the twitching of his hardened cock.
What he would give to bend you over like this himself, to pull those panties to the side. Josuke pulls down his pants, freeing his throbbing cock, wrapping his hand around his girth, because now his favorite part of your little routine comes; the instant he replays in his mind day and night.
You pull down your panties, carelessly tossing them on the floor, leaving your body completely bare. You observe your own reflection in the large mirror hanging on your wall. You let your fingers run through your hair, before they glide along your sides, your gaze following them, sliding along your body.
Josuke strokes his dick, his hungry eyes gliding along your silhouette, leaving no part unseen. You’re enticing. He could watch you like this forever.
But he can’t. You get your kimono, tieing it around your waist as you step out of the room, switching off the light.
Josuke sighs. He closes his eyes, still seeing your body in front of him.
He imagines his large hands gliding along your sides, feeling your soft skin under his, grabbing, kneading your flesh. He would cup your breasts, letting his thumbs circle your nipples until they harden under his touch.
What he would give to gaze deep into your eyes, pressing kisses along your throat, further down, sucking your nipples, hearing your voice bleeding into a soft moan.
His hand increases his pace as he imagines dropping to his knees, smoothing his palms along your hips, grabbing your ass.
A low whine rips past his chest as he thinks about your pretty pussy, right in front of his face.
He would worship you, his eager lips pressing feathery kisses onto your plush thighs before letting himself allow a taste of you. He just knows you would taste so good, letting his tongue glide along your folds, teasingly, before his tongue would draw tight circles on your sensitive clit.
Josuke imagines you bending in front of him, facing your floor-length mirror, as he slowly sinks into your sloppy pussy.
He would watch you, your reflection, the way your expression would change with each of his slow, deep thrusts, your face glowing as you watch yourself getting fucked by him. He knows you like to watch yourself.
He hurriedly pumps into his swollen tip, a bead of pre-cum rolling down his length, easing the glide of his eager hand.
Josuke can practically hear your voice, your whines, and the depraved sounds of pleasure, skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of your pussy as you drip all over him. He would watch his large, slick cock split you open, again and again until he has your whole body trembling.
He imagines it's your pussy wrapped so tightly around his twitching cock, not his own hand, as he fucks into his fist. His hips involuntarily stutter forward into his hand before he tips over the edge.
He groans breathlessly, a string of curses leaving his lips as he jerks himself through his orgasm. His hot cum stains his hand, dripping down his shaft as he shallowly thrusts into his fist, riding out his high. He lets go of himself, panting as he comes down from his high.
Josuke will be there the next evening as well, waiting for you to give him his show.
Rohan Kishibe
Rohan observes you, he practically reads your face like a book - and this without the help of Heaven’s Door.
He hates you for your obvious expression. He really does.
You skim through his latest proposal for his manga, your delicate hands turning page after page as his green eyes hang onto your every expression.
You're strict with him and honest. Most people would probably appreciate it if their manga editor possessed such qualities. Rohan doesn’t. He hates getting told what to do. He knows he’s good. Everyone knows this. Everyone should.
Only you don’t seem to, often having suggestions or comments. He pretends like these aren’t helpful. He doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction.
Just like now, as you propose some suggestions, pointing out some inconsistencies in the story, he just listens, his eyes gazing into yours.
“How very helpful of you, I can really count on you, my love,” he hums, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You bite back a smile, standing up from the seat behind your desk, and making your way to him. You stand behind him now, your hands resting on his shoulders. His muscle tense under your touch. You dip down, letting your hands glide along his chest, playfully so.
Rohan feels your breath on his neck and your heat on his skin, his nose filling up with your scent.
“Oh, you know me, always at your service,” you breathe into his ear before you retreat.
He composes himself, hurriedly standing up as well, saying goodbye to you as usual. He sees a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. He fully knows, that you just enjoyed baffling him. And he can’t seem to have anything to say, that would imply that he wasn’t.
The moment resurfaces in his mind throughout the remaining day.
He doesn’t know why meeting you always aggravates him so much. But this time you really were too much.
Late at night, when he’s lying in his bed, he really can’t seem to shake the memory of him. It’s like he can still feel your hot breath on his neck, your soft, inviting voice. He practically feels your hands smoothing along his chest.
Rohan desperately tries to ignore the way his dick twitches in his boxers. He has to tell himself that he doesn’t like you. Not one bit. Not at all. He tosses and turns, throwing his blanket away, and getting up to get himself some water.
It doesn’t help. He sits at the edge of his bed, looking down at his hardened cock showing through his boxers.
Every minute he doesn’t do anything, his longing for pleasure, for release, seems to heighten until he’s unable to hold back anymore.
Rohan tugs down his boxers, letting his cock spring into his grip. The first, slow drag of his palm along his length elicits him a gasp of relief. He lowers his gaze, watching as he drags his fist up and down his cock.
His mind is somewhere entirely else.
He thinks about you. About your hands on his chest, about your scent, about your sweet, honeyed voice.
He imagines you’re here in the room with him, that it was your hand that is dragging along his weeping length.
Rohan envisions you kneeling in front of him, your eyes peering up at him curiously before you wrap your plush lips around him. You’d look so good with hollowed cheeks and obedient eyes, bobbing your head.
“Just like that,” he mumbles. His grip grew a little tighter with each pump of his hand.
He visualizes his hand threading through your hair, pushing you to take more of him. He yearns to see tears spill from your eyes, he wants you to gag on his cock.
“Nothing to say now, huh?” He mumbles deliriously, lost in his fantasy.
He pretends it's your mouth and throat he’s fucking into, not his own hand. A breathless moan pulled from his chest, and another bead of pre-cum dripped down his cock to ease the glide of his hurried hand.
He can feel his impending orgasm, the way the knot in his stomach is twisting tighter and tighter with each harsh stroke of his hand.
A desperate groan falls from his mouth when he imagines your glassy eyes peering up at him. He envisions slipping his cock out of your mouth, and how you would loll out your tongue for him.
“You want that? Want me to cum all over that pretty face of yours, huh?” His voice is breathless, strained.
A low whine rips past his chest as he practically hears your whiny, desperate “Yes.”
He cums, a drawn-out moan of your name filling up the room, as his orgasm washes over him. His thighs tremble, his abdomen tensing as his hot cum paints his hand white.
He visualizes his spurts of cum landing on your tongue, dripping down your chin and lips, mixing in with your spit, imagining you swallowing, eagerly taking all that he gives you.
“Good girl,” he breathes, his chest heaving with his heavy pants.
Slowly he comes back into reality as his cock softens in his hand. His dick falls heavy against his thigh, as he observes the mess he made.
Rohan swallows, muttering to himself that he really does find you annoying. But he isn’t so sure if he can still believe this now.
Giorno Giovanna
Giorno leans against the rough bark of the tall birch, his long legs spread on the grass. He’s letting his eye wander, observing people walking their dogs, kids playing tag, and friend groups sitting in a circle on the green grass, beer in hand.
It fulfills him with contentment, with a certain tranquility when he sees all these people that are so happy, so careless, seeming so innocent and pure. He often comes here, clearing his mind, forgetting about all his duties and stress.
And as his gaze moves from one place to another he discovers you. As his eyes rest on you, he wonders how he could’ve been caught up in observing anything other. And now that he has seen you, how could he look away?
You’re sitting on a bench not far from him, a book in your delicate hands. Hair falls into your face, softly swaying in the breeze. He notices the corners of your eyes crinkling as you try to make out the sentences in the bright sunlight.
After a few minutes, it seems like you have given up, placing the book next to you on the bench. Your eyes fall close, soaking up the sun.
And Giorno just watches you; angling your face towards the sun, discarded book next to you, the soft breeze playing with your hair.
He doesn’t know why he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. It calms him in a way that is hard to describe, to see you comfortable in your skin, with no trace of stress or worry painted on your face, falling into the moment, appreciating it. It touches something deep within himself.
Giorno is mostly surrounded by hard, harsh people. Men that have killed, and will do so again.
It’s refreshing to look at you, it makes his skin feel warmer than the sun shining upon it.
He doesn’t know how to approach you, he’s not even sure if he should. He picks up a blade of grass, letting his stand metamorphose it into a butterfly.
The little insect reels through the air, heading for you.
You don’t notice it until it lands on the tip of your nose. Your eyes open languidly. They grow wider as they take in the butterfly right before them.
It takes off again, fluttering a few centimeters in front of your face. Giorno watches you laugh out of surprise, your smile shining brighter than the afternoon sun.
You stretch out your hand, the butterfly landing on your finger, sitting still. The wonder in your eyes as you observe it from up close makes his heart flutter, just like the butterfly’s wings. He’s entranced, his eyes hanging onto you until you go.
And when he is back in his home, after talking to some of his subordinates, after feeling the stress and his responsibility resting on his shoulders anew he wishes he could see you. To let his gaze travel along your features, to feel this tenderness washing over himself again.
He leans back in his chair behind his desk, picturing you. How your eyes widened in surprise upon gazing at the butterfly, how your delicate hand waved through the air, how your skin glowed in the sun.
Giorno can’t help wondering how soft your skin would feel against his lips, imagining kissing your shut eyes, pressing feathery kisses onto every centimeter of your face until his ears pick up your soft giggles. He would pull away, his nose nearly touching yours, his hands cradling your cheeks, watching the creases at the corner of your eyes deepening.
This is harmless. This is okay.
But his mind can’t stop running. He can’t stop his thoughts from wandering, from imagining himself pressing tender kisses along your jaw, your throat, along your breasts.
He thinks about taking your nipple into his mouth, softly sucking, noticing your breath deepening, his other hand kneading your other breast.
Giorno gulps, his blood rushing down his body. He imagines moving further down, a trail of kisses along your waist, your stomach, along your thighs.
His breath hitches, feeling his dick straining against his pants. He wonders how your pussy would look, how sweet you would taste, as his tongue laps at your folds.
His chest burns with desire, his cheeks hot as he just can’t shake these thoughts off.
Reluctantly, he gives in to his urges. He tugs down his pants and boxers, his hand wrapping around his hardened cock.
His head rests against his chair. His eyes drifted shut, to visualize you more clearly. He sees you in front of him, your unbelievable eyes staring up at him, slightly widening as he sinks into your wet pussy, his cock being encompassed by your warm, tight walls. A sigh drops from his lips.
His thumb swipes across his slit, collecting the bead of pre-cum that has gathered there. Slowly, he starts to drag his hand along his length, pumping into his swollen tip, before repeating the gesture. With each pass, his grip grows a little bit tighter, and his fantasies a little dirtier.
He imagines it's your pussy that is wrapped so tightly around his cock, not his own hand. He pictures your every expression, your eyes darkening, your cheeks burning, your plush lips dropping open, releasing sweet moans and whimpers.
Giorno wants to see you tremble, wants to see you fall apart underneath him, because of him. He mimics the slow and deliberate thrust with his hand, before increasing his pace. A drawn out, breathless moan escapes his parted lips.
He yearns to see the surprised look in your eyes, the little frown on your face, as he throws your legs over his shoulders, thrusting even deeper into you.
He would fuck you until you quiver underneath him, until your voice is hoarse until you can’t see straight, until you’re a mess, gushing all over his cock. He would fuck you until you’re satisfied.
Only then he’ll let himself succumb. A groan rips past his heaving chest as he imagines your pussy clenching down on him greedily, urging him to spill every drop of his hot cum deep within you.
With that thought in his mind, with him envisioning your sloppy pussy fluttering around his dick, he cums. A groan drops from his lips, his fist squeezing a little tighter, concentrating on his swollen tip as his orgasm washes over him.
He envisions himself buried deep inside of you, his cock throbbing with each rope of hot cum he fills you up with.
Shallowly he rides out his high, his body twitching helplessly as his ropes of creamy cum drip down his thick shaft and onto his hand, imagining your pussy milking him dry.
He’s breathless, his chest heaving with pants, as he lets go of himself. His gaze drops onto his soiled hand.
Giorno wonders how such a sweet and tender thing as you could lead him to do such lascivious things.
©sweetdreamlandstuff
#jjba smut#jjba fanfic#jojo smut#jotaro smut#jotaro x reader#jotaro x you#bruno bucellati x reader#bruno bucciarati x reader#bruno smut#giorno giovanna x reader#giorno smut#giorno x reader#josuke smut#josuke x you#josuke x reader#rohan x reader#rohan smut
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Crowded
We continue on with the Mommy series, for which I have yet to decide a name. What was going to be a simple lunch date got interrupted by a load of guests.
Length 3.4K
Mina x Momo x m reader
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You wake up in bed, stretching your body after a good night's sleep. Today was Saturday, meaning that you could spend the day relaxing. You turn onto your side and grab your phone from the nightstand. You see a few message notifications from Jihyo as well as Dahyun. Dahyun’s message read, “Thank you for last night. It was great; I’d love it if you could pick me up every day, and I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. I’d like to make it up for you sometime.” You smile at her message, writing back that you don’t mind using your time with her and when you’ll pick her up.
Looking at Jihyo’s message, it was more of an invitation. “Hey, I’m free today if you want to hang out. Maybe do something naughty? Text me back if you’re interested.” A winking face to end the message tells you everything you need to know. You sit up in bed and consider your options. While you wanted to see Jihyo, you also wanted to rest after a week's work. You decide to answer later. You leave bed and cook breakfast before deciding to head out.
Pulling out your phone as you walk around the block, you text Jihyo back. “What did you have in mind?”
“Oh, you’re interested?” Jihyo responded; you could imagine the smirk on Jihyo’s face as she typed that message. “Consider it a business date; we’ll go out and have lunch together. It’ll be nice to just talk to each other. Or would you rather take me back to your place to treat me to something better? Maybe something long and hard?”
You chuckle and shake your head at her text before agreeing to meet her. You had nothing else to do, so it would help fill the time. Jihyo tells you where to meet and sends you a picture. It was one of her tits. Jihyo had her arm under them, pushing them up and making them seem bigger. You quickly get back to the home screen and continue your walk. Once you return home, you prepare for your date and relax until it’s time.
Jeongyeon, around this time, was out shopping. Her mind was filled with thoughts, the revelation of Dahyun and Jihyo spending time with you getting on her nerves. She pushes her baby along in her stroller, looking down at her child’s sleeping form. She gives them a soft smile. Jeongyeon runs her hand along her baby’s chubby cheeks. Her smile turns to a frown as she’s reminded of her husband. “Maybe I should di…” Jeongyeon stops herself from completing that sentence. She shakes her head and continues going around the stores, eventually bumping into you as you head to your date. “It’s you.” She says softly, her hands rising to her chest as she gives you a bright smile.
“It’s nice to see you, Jeongyeon. What are you doing around here?” You ask.
“I was just out shopping with Jieun.” She says, pointing to her sleeping baby. You take a look at Jieun and smile.
“She’s cute. Looks a lot like you.”
“Thanks. What are you doing around here?”
“Oh, Jihyo invited me to lunch.” You tell her, just as you hear someone call your name. You both turn your head toward the voice, seeing Jihyo walking over. Jihyo and Jeongyeon make eye contact.
“Jeongyeon! It’s been a while.” Jihyo says as she hugs her friend. “I didn’t expect you to be here. How are you?”
“I’m doing fine. I was just taking Jieun out for a walk and happened to bump into him. I hear that you’re eating together.” Jeongyeon replies. There’s a slight pause as Jihyo thinks about what to say.
“Yes, we ran into each other a little while ago. You didn’t tell me he moved into the city; were you trying to keep him for yourself?”
Jeongyeon is taken aback by the question. She knew Jihyo knew that the question was meant to get information out of her. “I-I”
“I got transferred over here and happened to work next to her. I didn’t know you lived here, too.” You interrupted solely because you didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.
“Between us, when was the last time you two had sex?” Jihyo says, a mischievous smile on her face.
“It wasn’t that long ago, a few days ago with Sana. Right, Jeongyeon?” Jihyo looks surprised by your answer.
“With Sana? She knows about how naughty you’ve been?” Jeongyeon looks a little more uncomfortable.
“Yeah, it was a threesome. She just ran into us when we went out for ice cream.” Jeongyeon grows quieter. She feels defeated giving away all the information, knowing the last time she was together with you was a threesome; she feels lesser. Jeongyeon figured that Jihyo had you for herself not too long ago.
“Hey! Is that really you two?” The conversation is again broken as you see Sana running toward your group. It wasn’t just her; in tow were two other women. Jeongyeon and Jihyo look a little less than pleased. In Jeongyeon's mind, the last thing she needed was for Sana to see her with you, especially after everything she had just said. For Jihyo, it meant more competition as she saw the two women with her, Momo and Mina. “It really is you two. We almost have the whole group together again. We’re just missing Nayeon.” Sana sees the three of you together and pauses for a moment. “Did I walk in on something?” she says, trying to hide that she doesn’t like Jeongyeon being with you.
Jihyo takes the time to explain things to you. “Ah, I don’t think you’ve met them. This is Momo, and that’s Mina.” She says, motioning to each woman. “All of us and Nayeon went to college together. I haven’t seen these three in a long time. I usually only see Jeongyeon and Nayeon. Nayeon hasn’t popped up in a while, though.” You give her a nod of understanding before bowing at Momo and Mina.
“Ooh, you’re pretty handsome. Are you single?” Momo immediately asks, leaning in to show you her cleavage. Mina smacks Momo’s shoulder out of embarrassment. “What was that for!? You think he’s cute too, don’t you?” Mina’s face turned red, and she looked away. “Anyway, what are we doing? How about we eat? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
“Oh, well, he and I were about to have lunch toge-” Jihyo’s cut off.
“Perfect, we’ll join you,” Momo responds, forcing herself into the date along with the others. Momo walks between you two, hooking your arms and dragging you along to a restaurant. With the entire group in tow, you’re introduced well to Momo and Mina. Momo was much more outgoing and outspoken, while Mina was the exact opposite. You watched the group talk mostly, listening in on what they did in their time at college. Jeongyeon and Jihyo sit on either side of you. Jeongyeon snakes her hand onto yours, getting you to hold her hand as she bounces her baby on her lap. You glance at her; she smiles at you for a brief second. You felt a hand on your lap and looked over at Jihyo. She has a sly smirk and types a message with her free hand. “This isn’t what I had in mind.” You see in a text from her. The lunch goes along with the ladies drinking. If you learned anything, it was that Jihyo had a high tolerance for alcohol. Jeongyeon was the first to leave, needed to get home. Sana was the next one, having had more than enough to drink. That left Jihyo, Momo, and Mina. While Jihyo and Momo had a lot to drink, Mina kept herself relatively sober. She was tipsy but not drunk.
“I should take you all home. You’re in no condition to leave on your own.” You tell them. You help Jihyo up first, then Momo and Mina. Momo and Jihyo lean against your body as you pay their portions of the bill. Mina holds onto the back of your shirt and waddles along with you, struggling to keep up. You stumble your way to your car, Momo, and Jihyo’s weight making it hard to walk straight. Jihyo gives you directions to her home; her head sways as it seems to you she had too much to drink. She was falling asleep. After dropping her off, Momo and Mina tell you where they live. “So you two live together?”
“Yes, we thought it would be better to live together,” Mina replies as she looks out the window. “Thank you for driving us home.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. I’d be worried if something happened on your way home.”
“Right, we get that.” You get to their home, parking in front.
“Thank you for driving us,” Momo says in slurred speech. She pokes her head between the front seats and kisses you suddenly. “I knew you would taste good.”
Mina pulls Momo back, “Momo, what are you doing?”
“You know you want to have a taste of him, too,” Momo says before planting her lips on Mina. “What if we fucked him?” Momo says as she moves her hand between Mina’s legs. “Does that sound good to you?” She says, her question directed at you. The action in the backseats turns you on; you nod your head. “See, he’s interested. He wants to see the real you.” Momo says as she kisses Mina again. You can hear Mina’s whines now, and they’re making you hard. You step out of the car and help them out.
Momo grabs at your pants, leading you to her home. Mina closes the door as Momo takes you to the bedroom. Momo strips off your clothes as you do the same to her. Her bountiful bust was revealed to you as you slipped the dress she was wearing off her shoulders. Momo wore no bra, instead having pasties on her nipples, and she wore a pair of black panties. She throws her underwear away quickly and pushes you back onto the bed. Momo grins as she sees your hard cock. She grabs the tip and runs her tongue along the underside; it sends shivers down your spine. She flicks the head with her tongue before taking it into her warm mouth. She drools over it; her saliva runs down your shaft as she strokes it, spreading her saliva around. Her tongue swirls around the tip of your cock. Mina walks in to see Momo already getting to work. She slips off her dress, letting it fall to the floor, and gets beside Momo. You feel Mina’s lips on your balls, her small tongue moving around them.
Momo’s lips disappear from your cock as she crawls up to you. “I want you to see just who Mina is.” She whispers into your ear. Mina, seeing that your cock was now free, rubbed it against her face, covering herself in Momo’s spit. Momo runs her fingertip along your nipple as she watches. “See, Mina’s a real slut. Just one little taste, and you can have her wrapped around your finger.” You look down to see Mina’s face against your crotch, your cock in the back of her throat. Her tongue is lapping at your balls. She pulls back slowly and begins to bob her head. Mina’s small mouth was stretched to its limits; you could feel how tight they were pulled over your cock. “It’ll get much better once you see how she rides you. I’ll get my turn after.” Momo says as she gets onto her knees and moves by your head. “I might as well get something while I wait.” She says before planting herself on your face. Momo grinds against your face, thinking you wouldn't put in any work. When your tongue slips inside her, she jumps a little. You grab onto Momo’s waist and pull her back down. “Shit.” Momo moans as she places her hands on your chest to hold herself up. Your tongue pushes past her lips, rubbing against her walls as you try to find her G-spot. Momo’s thick thighs squeeze your head as she struggles to control her body. Her moans fill the room as she rocks back and forth on your face.
Mina continues to bob her head, her tongue running across the tip as she licks up your precum. She strokes your cock quickly, hoping to make you cum quickly. You were close to cumming a few moments later your cock began to throb. Mina reacted quickly, rubbing her face against your crotch as she deepthroated you. You buck your hips, hitting the back of her throat as you cum. Mina’s mouth filled with cum, more than she ever had, forcing her to back up and get a facial. Mina coughs as your cum rains down on her. Mina’s face is completely ruined, with saliva dripping down her chin and cum covering most of her face. Mina mounts you, placing your cock between her folds as she grabs Momo by her hair and pulls her into a kiss. Momo scoops your cum out of Mina’s mouth as they kiss. Momo moans into it; she tries to hold her climax but can’t. She breaks away, moaning loudly as your tongue finds her G-spot. Momo’s legs squeeze down on you, and she grits her teeth, whining.
Momo falls off to the side, her chest heaving as she recovers. She gets to watch Mina go crazy. Mina grabs your cock and points it at her cunt before dropping herself on it. She hums, feeling your cock splits her in two. “Oh god.” She cries as she begins bouncing on your cock without a second thought. “Shit, you’re so big.” She moans as she holds your thighs in order to help herself bounce. You grab Mina’s waist and slam her down on your cock, matching her energy. You buck your hips, going deeper into her pussy. Mina bites her lip and gives you a sly look. “I love a man who can fuck me like a whore.” She says, biting her lip. Holding Mina’s waist, you turn her onto her back. You grab her legs and put them over her head. Mina gives you a gummy smile before moans come flowing out of her as you pound her into the mattress. Momo snakes her way into the fold, attaching herself to Mina’s small tits and using her tongue on them.
Mina threw her head back, her senses becoming overwhelmed by the pleasure. “Deeper, deeper!” She cries out. You impale her with every thrust, giving Mina every inch of your cock. Momo has fun playing with Mina’s nipple, going as far as giving them small bites to make her squeal. Mina whimpers as she nears her orgasm, “I’m going to cum.” She moans, her walls clamping down around your cock. You speed up your thrusts, filling the room with the sounds of your bodies clapping against each other. Mina’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she cums, You let go of her legs, and she immediately wraps them around you. “Cum inside me.” She repeats over and over again. Your throbbing cock has Mina pushing you in deeper. “Cum inside my slutty pussy.” Mina shouts. You bury your cock, giving in to her demands as your cum floods her pussy.
You pull out once you’re finished and lay down on the open space of the bed. Your cock is soft as you try to recover, only to feel Momo rub your cock with her tits. “You’re lucky Mina was tipsy; alcohol tends to take away her energy. She’d be all over you normally.” Momo traps your cock between her large mounds, pumping your shaft with them. “I like to call that version of Mina, Sharon. It’s her English name. Now it’s just you and me.”
“Yeah, I guess so. She’s a real wild one.” You groan. Momo’s tits were soft; they cushioned your cock, it nearly felt like a fleshlight. You start getting hard, the tip poking through Momo’s tits. Momo wraps her lips around it, sucking on it as she individually moves her tits around your shaft. “Damn, you’re good.”
“Of course I am. You should hear all the stories about our little friend group.” Momo says, alluding to their time in college. Momo releases a light moan as she pops your cock out of her mouth. “You’re cum tastes good, but I don’t want to waste it on this mouth. I want it here.” Momo straddles you and spreads her lips, her pink pussy on full display. She keeps her lips spread as she presses the tip of your cock against her. “Mina was right. You are big. I hope you don’t break me.” She says, teasing you. Momo’s pussy swallows the head as she sinks down. Momo has a smile on her face as you begin to fill her cunt. “Fuck, I feel so full.” Momo groans as she finishes taking you inside. You reach up and pull on one of her nipples, making her moan. “You would like these; Jihyo was all over you during lunch.” Momo grinds against your cock as she adjusts to your size. You squeeze and grab at her soft tits in the meantime.
When Momo begins to move, you move your hands down to her hips, helping her bounce on your cock. Momo leans down, kissing you as she pushes your cock into her. You feel her hard nipples run across your chest as she moves. You glance at her cleavage, enjoying the way her tits swayed. You kissed Momo again, her soft lips melting into yours as she got closer to cumming. Your hands wander her body, moving from her toned back to her ass. You run your hands across her cheeks before giving them a light slap. Momo coos and tells you to do it again. You put more strength into your strike, making it sting for Momo. Her walls begin to tighten around your cock; you feel her squeeze down on the tip of your cock.
“You’re getting tighter.” You grunt as Momo comes back down on your cock.
“Let’s cum together.” Momo moans. You agree and spank Momo one more time before grabbing her waist and using her like a toy. Momo hums as she takes every inch inside her. “I want you to cum inside. It wouldn’t be fair if Mina got a creampie and I didn’t.” You chuckle at her words and promise to give her a big one. Momo pulls away from you, sitting up as she nears her climax. She grabs at her tits, squeezing them as she revels in her coming orgasm. You continue to drive your cock deep into Momo, impaling her on it as you blow your load inside her. Momo has a wide grin on her face as she feels your warm cum pour into her cunt. She grinds against your cock, getting every drop she can before getting off and laying beside Mina.
You say your goodbyes and get dressed to rest in your own home when Momo stops you, calling you over to her. “Here’s my number, handsome. Call me so we can have some fun again. I might as well give you Mina’s number, too. She’ll be cock hungry for a little while, so she might call you up.” You chuckle, wishing her a good night and heading home.
On your way home, you get a call from Jihyo and answer it. “Hey, sorry today didn’t go the way we planned it. I didn’t think everyone would be there.”
“Neither did I. Things just turned out that way.”
“Give me your address; I’ll just visit you if I have to.” You laugh in response, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”
“We can have a chat later. I’m driving home, so I gotta focus on driving.”
“Yeah, good night.”
“Good night, Jihyo.” As soon as you hang up the phone, you get another call, this one from Jeongyeon. “Hello, Jeongyeon?”
“Hi, are you free tomorrow?”
“I should be. Why do you ask?”
“I want to spend the day with you. I don’t want to just go to you for sex…can we talk tomorrow? I don’t feel comfortable doing it over the phone.”
“That’s fine, Jeongyeon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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Premium Service [l.jn]
wc: 3.8k || mentions of jaemin, smut
synopsis: “did you hire me to clean or to fuck?”
quitting a job is easy, but getting another is not. especially in the area that you lived in, jobs are hard to find, perhaps impossible.
“this is ridiculous, it says here that you are actively looking for someone!” you yelled into the phone, already angry with the lady on the other line.
“i apologize miss, but we really try to make this work as much as possible—“ click. you hung up. you’re fed up, exhausted even. you turned off your phone before entering your car. maybe a car ride can calm you down.
the number of hours you’ve put into job applications isn’t even comparable to the hours you’ve worked at your office job, days turn into weeks, hell, weeks turn into months and you’re running out of patience. the work is tiring, money is getting short by the minute. you’re thinking about going back to your sloppy old job.
seeing your mail app full of rejection letters every morning made your blood boil, but mostly made you rot in your apartment with the feeling of never being able to find anything, until—
Jaem: hey check this out, they’re looking for housekeepers in the area
you picked up your phone, read the message before typing a reply, sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time this week.
do i look like a maid to you jaemin?
Jaem: i’m just trying to help you out lil sis, plus, it seems like a well paid job, you should think about it
you placed your phone down, staring at your ceiling for a few minutes, you thought about it. while this seemed like some work for old retired ladies, you took some kind of interest in it. so, after a bit, you replied back to your brother.
fine
Jaem: cool! here’s his address, he’s doing interviews tomorrow at noon.
———-
the place looked like a movie set, chandeliers were illuminating the entire hallway with golden statues sitting near the front desk. this was nothing but an apartment building but still— you were obviously in the richer part of the city, so you were prepared to see some spoiled, pretentious and overall disgustingly rich man waiting for you in the lobby.
“hi miss, what can i do for you?” you jumped and turned to the receptionist, nervously biting your bottom lip.
“well, i’m here for an interview, but i think i’m at the wrong place.” you trailed off, looking at the bright red couches near the elevators.
she smiled at you. “i assure you you’re at the right place. it’s for the cleaning services right?” you nodded, tapping your fingers on the marble desk. “great! mr. lee is waiting for you, he’s on the 7th floor, first door to your left. you can’t really miss it, his name is on the door.”
“right— thanks.” she gave you a thumbs up before returning her eyes to the screen sitting in front of her.
going towards the elevator, you repeat to yourself the directions the receptionist told you, waiting for the elevator doors to open. pressing the digit, you wait for the ding, walk a few steps before you find yourself at the door, his door. very nervous, you knock on his door, shaking, a few times before feeling your purse buzzing.
Jaem: good luck lil sis! make some money for me
you rolled your eyes at the text before putting your phone back into the bag. just as you were about to knock again, you heard the door open, your feet ready to turn and run away, mentally scolding yourself for agreeing to take this stupid interview.
however, your thoughts came to a stop once the door opened.
“there you are, thought you wasn’t comin’.” the man said, giving you a slight smile.
“we were waiting for you before i could start.” you shook your head, confused.
“we?”
he chuckles, “yes, we. you thought you were alone?—” you nodded. “many people want this job you know, i’m surprised you even showed up, considering you’re the only one who’s around my age here.” he was a little arrogant, just like you thought about earlier while entering the building, but you couldn’t stop staring at him, he was handsome, smelled nice but your attention was caught when he spoke, voice deep and soft.
what have you gotten yourself into?
————
the apartment looked wonderful, big ceiling to floor windows showed the busy city below, the imported carpets were gorgeous, touches of red, yellow and green gave the living room more color, assorted with decorative pillows on the couches you were currently sitting on. the kitchen was a little dull with grey marble countertops and black cupboards, but the large plants made up for it.
you were sitting next to three other ladies, definitely older than you, one of them eyeing you weirdly made you lose your patience. “what are you looking at?” you spat. you knew this job was for those old ladies that are past retirement, but you didn’t think they’d be so rude. “sorry sweetheart, for a young girl like you, we’re wondering why you’re here i mean— she laughed. “why don’t you find a job that meets your criteria?— you’re probably just here to have sex with this man right?” her and the other two ladies grinned at you.
your eye was twitching and shooting daggers at the women in front of you. just as you got up to leave, a voice made your movements come to a stop.
“ladies, ladies. why don’t we all get along? after all, this is a cleaning job right?” mr. lee spoke. his eyes turning into crescents, “we shouldn’t be so heated over cleaning hm?” his kind expression made you come back to your senses, eyes kind and welcoming. and so, you decided to sit back down on the couch, keeping a small distance from the close-to-casket women.
after an hour and a half, the interview came to its end. thinking you’re surely not getting taken— i mean, you’re young and he’s probably picking women with ‘maid material’, you placed your jacket over your arm, getting ready to exit the apartment, while hearing the women talk besides you. “we would invite you to lunch with us but, we know you’ll have to look for something else, so we’ll leave you to that. good luck though!” you rolled your eyes.
after the ladies left, you scrolled through your phone while looking for your older brother’s contact, getting ready to leave the building when a hand touched your shoulder. “how does monday sound to you?” you hear a voice whispering to your ear. you froze, clearly you’re hearing things right? you turned around to check, it was mr. lee.
“huh? what about the other women?” your body was still frozen. his touch felt warm, so warm. you’ve never felt the heat rise up to your ears this fast before, the man was only touching your shoulder, but his hand was burning your body.
his hand slid down your lower back before he spoke up. “i don’t want rude old bitches cleaning my place while i’m gone, the last one kept misplacing my things.” you looked up at him, pushing his hand off your back.
“i’ll think about it.” you tell him, ready to go home more than ever at this point.
“you know where to find me.” he says, giving you a wink before returning inside.
————-
you eventually picked up the job, and mr. lee even invited you to stay at his place since he had an empty room, free of charge, so you could sleep at his place a few times a week. he assured you that you could call him by his name, jeno, and not mr.lee as it felt too formal for him— you declined as you wanted to stay polite.
the past few weeks have been nothing but normal, the job was quite simple and you had a list of things that you needed to do while jeno was gone. only then, his one and only rule was given to you before you could start— and it was to never enter his bedroom, even if you wanted to wash his bedsheets.
———
“what about the bed? how will i wash them?”
“don’t worry about it. i’ll put the sheets in the laundry basket”
“okay… is there any reason i’m forbidden?”
he smiled, taking a last sip of whiskey before placing the glass down in the sink, indicating that you had to clean it.
“privacy reasons.”
———
it made sense, but still felt awkward as you usually kept the door wide open at night while sleeping. (maybe you should close it more often.)
quite a simple rule really, but you still find it quite odd, questioning how you’ll make his bed after cleaning. without thinking much about it, you tossed your bag in the guest room (now yours) before getting to work.
you started to find jeno a little odd, he’d sometimes come home irritated, locking himself in his room until you’d knock on his door to tell him that your work was done for the day. there was a lot of tension between you two, you’d find him quite intimidating at times, especially when you’d catch him staring at your ass a few times, heat rushing to your cheeks.
now, you weren’t the type to let anyone look at you that way, but with jeno you felt different— ever since he gave you your ‘work uniform’, —which was honestly just lingerie and frankly too revealing for you—, something switched inside him that day.
————
first, it started with cleaning the bathroom floor tiles, usually you’d use a mop, but he insisted that cleaning with a rag, soap and some water would be better. without questioning him, you got to work. his plan was working, it was easy to break your unbothered attitude, you were innocently obeying him to whatever task he demanded. he knew you’d caught him staring a few times, swatting his hand away from your chest or ass whenever you cleaned his apartment.
slowly but surely, he was going to make you his little toy to play with.
he watched you clean on all fours, tiny skirt lifting up every now and then, showing your white lacy underwear. jeno groaned and got up, walking towards you before hovering above you, his hand caressing your ass before ghosting his middle and ring finger over your panties—over the place you’ve secretly wanted him the most these past days.
you jumped, looked back up at him, confused. but before you could speak, you felt his fingers pinching your clit through your underwear, earning him a small gasp.
“how come you’re this wet? you like walking around me dressed like a slut is that it?” you couldn’t bring yourself to realize what was happening. trying to get up from your position, you argued. “what? you gave me this stupid uniform- hey!”
“where do you think you’re going?” he asked. you suddenly felt dizzy, his warm fingers were burning on your skin, in contrast to his cold rings. “i never thought you’d be….” he trails off, both hands grabbing your ass, making you squirm under his touch, falling back onto your cleaning position. “…such a slut,” your body was on fire, panties were sticking to your dripping cunt.
“mr. lee, please stop…” you were lying. you’ve wanted him for a while, probably ever since the first time you’ve seen him but everything felt too sudden, everything was going so fast—too fast even, you couldn’t think about anything.
you whined, wiggling your ass to feel more, arousal starting to drip down your legs. he was right there, fingers so close to where you wanted him the most, losing your mind, the strong facade that you’ve put on over the months slowly crumbling away. “stop? i don’t think you want me to stop sweetheart.” his voice was venom, the bathroom was spinning. you knew there was no way out of this.
you let out a gasp once more, feeling his fingers toss your panties to the side. collecting your wetness on his fingers, he tapped your bottom lip, making you open your mouth, sucking on his fingers. “good girl” is all he says before you hear his belt click and pants hit the ground. “w-what are you-“ oh.
you felt his long fingers stretch you open, the metal of his rings brushing your clit ever now and then, making you lose your balance, falling almost face first on the cold floor. you could barely hold yourself up with your arms, too immersed in your pleasure.
———
for the past week, you’ve been working hard, making sure jeno’s apartment was cleaned up from ceiling to floor. he sometimes tried to get you under him for a bit, but you politely declined each time. not forcing you, he chuckled and went back to his room.
it was sunday. usually you’d go back home on the weekends, but strangely this time you stayed with jeno. he never made you do any work on the weekends, and you were exhausted, so you could sleep in.
you quietly woke up and got ready to eat, taking a pan out of the cupboard, trying not to make as much noise as possible. two eggs and a toast is what you usually went for, so you got that. you didn’t hear jeno sit behind you, placing his glasses on the counter. he cleared his throat which made you jump in shock.
“god! you almost burned me!” you yelled. he didn’t look too concerned so he smiled, making you roll your eyes before finishing up your plate, turning the heat off and rinsing the pan, washing the mess around the sink.
“well good morning to you too darling.” he hums, eyes in a crescent moon shape. you sigh. “mhm. good morning, you could’ve made more noise instead of scaring me and being all silent you know.” you scoffed, placing your plate on the counter, wiping crumbs off.
“you know,—he starts. i think you're playing hard to get." jeno says, flipping the page of his newspaper. you stopped, placed the cloth down, dusting your sleeves before staring at him, already annoyed.
“what do you mean?” you cock an eyebrow, waiting for his answer. “you didn't let me do anything to you last week, are you scared of me?” he asks.
you stare at him, if looks could kill, you’d be in the maximum security of a prison by now.
"did you hire me to clean or to fuck?" you scoff.
he looks around for a moment, then his eyes fall to your shaky hands, fingers playing with the hem of your small lacy apron, pulling the loose strings.
"maybe both. who knew i’d hire a cute little thing like you?” he continues. “never thought i’d be so lucky.”’
“i just think that as an employee, it’s wrong.” you state, trying to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. he looks up at you, grinning. “you didn’t say that when you came all over my floor three weeks ago. you even cleaned it up like i asked you.”
the familiar feeling of heat rising to your cheeks comes back on your face once more, you almost drop your egg on the floor when you hear him say that.
“excuse me? i don’t think you should— he places his hand over yours. "hm. why don’t you love me baby?” he pouts. god, you thought he was so beautiful, you wanted to kiss him so badly but you stood your ground, still wanted to show him that you weren’t interested in any of this, even if you felt your thighs getting sticky.
“i-i don’t love you like that…” you replied. “i mean i’m just here to work, that’s all.” you picked up your plate, placed it in the dishwasher before washing your hands. while you did so, you felt jeno place his hands on your hips, your back facing him.
you did miss jeno’s touch on your body, his wet kisses, his hands, maybe even his dick— even if you thought that was ridiculous— you couldn’t deny it. he placed his chin on your shoulder before whispering to your ear. “i know my baby misses me. you’re telling me that if i pulled your panties down you wouldn’t be wet?” you nod, biting your lip in anticipation. his voice sent shivers down your spine, his hands slid lower and lower until they reached your lower belly.
he hums. “no underwear?”
you shook your head, “i just woke up and got hungry, i didn’t think about it.” your voice was small, you felt defeated and now with jeno caging you in his arms you had no escape.
“liar .”
you suddenly get picked up bridal style, panic on your face. “what? no i’m not! i swear i didn’t think about that— where are we going?” you hit his arm, trying to make him let go of you— to no avail. “we’re going somewhere special, you’ll love it.”
———
his bedroom was dark, you could barely see anything. his bed was large; however, the duvet and scattered blankets were soft under your palms. you heard jeno coming out of his bathroom, as you waited patiently for him on the bed.
“i thought i wasn’t allowed to be here.” you break the silence. he looks at you, hair still wet from his shower, towel—barely hanging— low on his hips.
he chuckles. “maybe i’ve changed my mind, i didn’t think you’d look so pretty waiting for me.” you felt your ears burning again, not sure of what to say. “c’mon, take it off.”
“what?”
“my towel. take it off.”
you do as he says, trembling hands pulling the cloth and letting it fall at his feet. you sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him, waiting for directions.
“what are you waiting for? show me how good you suck cock.” you frown, unsure if you should get to work, his cock was standing right in front of your face, tip leaking on your top, staining it. he was huge, bigger than those college boys you’ve fucked years ago. you started to worry about the size when all of a sudden he takes your hair in a fist and forces your mouth down his cock.
he groans. “when i ask for something, you get to it, and you do it quickly. i’ve been waiting for that mouth for weeks. i think i deserve it, don't you think?” mouth full of him, you choke a few times before he pulls your hair back, leaving spit and drool down his cock. “fuck, that’s a good girl, but you can do better.” his stare made you feel small, but you loved it, you wanted him, all of him, so you quickly got on your knees and stroked him a few times, making him release a moan. you took him in your mouth once more, this time taking him down your throat as much as possible, feeling the corner of your eyes watering.
you felt him twitch in your mouth after a bit, sometimes teasing him by licking your way up from his base to the tip, kissing it right after. the grip on your hair started to hurt, he was pulling hard on your scalp, but you wanted to please him as much as you can. “fuck…fuck— stop i wanna cum inside you.” he insisted and you released his cock with a pop, obeying him.
he climbed on his bed, back facing the headboard, tapping his thigh indicating you to straddle him, and so you did. you felt scared, he was big, it was already a struggle to take him inside your mouth, but your pussy? not a chance. you took your top off, letting jeno’s hands grab your tits, and pinching your nipples a few times. you whined in pain, but you brushed it off and started to unzip your skirt when jeno stopped you.
“no baby, you keep that on for me.” his hands fell onto your ass, groping it and giving it a few slaps, which made you moan out loud. “hmm, you like it? you like it when i play with your ass?” he asks and you quickly nod, eager to receive more. you grind on his cock for a few minutes, your juices coating his thighs and dick, before you lift yourself up and sink down on his cock, biting your bottom lip at the intrusion.
once he’s fully bottomed out, you both moan in unison. you stay like this for a bit, while adjusting to his size. you placed one hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder before you’re ready to start.
“that’s it, ride me baby, show me how much you want my cock.” is all you need before you go faster, deeper, losing yourself in pleasure, eyes rolling into the back of your head, nails digging into his skin. you feel his hands grabbing your ass before he fucks into you harshly. you moan his name like a broken record, his pace almost making you lose balance, big hands leaving handprint on your cheeks. “h-harder please… i want more.”
he laughs. “of course you want more, you’re made for my cock and nothing else, got it?”
you nod. this time, tears are falling down your face. you’re a mess, your thighs are burning from going back and forth, but he just feels so good inside you, you never want it to end.
you don’t even realize that you’re mumbling to yourself, lost in your own pleasure when jeno slaps your face, making you gasp. “you feel so good, you’re so good you’re so—ah!“ he flips you on your back, pushes your legs up to your shoulders, placing you in a mating press position. he slides in cock back inside you, this time making you cry out.
“it’s too much, please.” you grab his biceps, boobs bouncing up and down as he goes harder on your already exhausted body.
“you can take it princess, you’re doing so well already, i guess i should reward you hm?” all you can do is whine, the knot in your stomach tightening more and more, ready to unravel anytime soon.
“my little girl is close, is she? cum with me baby.” jeno’s thrusts are uneven, indicating that he’s close too; and just like that, you both cum together, loud moans and heavy breathing are heard in the dimly lit room. you feel his warm load inside you before he pulls out, feeling cum starting to seep out of you, whining at the stickiness between your legs.
he gives you a small kiss before getting out of bed, showing his signature eye smile while heading to the bathroom.
“you should get back to work, you’ve got some cleaning to do.” is all he says before throwing you a wink.
taglist (those who asked!): @tyxoxo @sexygrass @produmads @jenoslutie @painted-hills could not tag keemburley
© jenomov do not repost/translate
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Strawberry Mocha
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jung wooyoung x reader, ft yunho
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 24.7k
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: barista!wooyoung, student!reader, camboy!wooyoung, virgin!reader, hopelesslyinlove!yunho
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, mutual masturbation, sexting, public oral, public fingering, blindfold, slight bondage, toys, edging
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, v-card loss, angst on yunho's side
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: pussy drunk wooyo idk man also i imagine wooyo as bouncy wooyo here with that hot ass hair purr but make it oreo like he had it in aotm
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫s 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
nsfw link(s): one
anastasya wants to chat! click here to see one new message.
"hello, gorgeous. want to see my pussy?" - tina, less than 10 km away.
luciano is more than ready to show you the 8th world wonder.
"close. close. close." your words are synchronized with the clicking of your mouse. with each minute passing, each click is getting more aggressive.
sick and tired of all the sex ads interrupting your studying over an illegally found textbook, you bury your head into your pillow. your back hurts from laying on your stomach for hours, but it is the only position that helps you with period cramps. the laptop makes a noise again, one you've heard enough of for the last few hours.
"i really don't want to fuck you, nick." you whine, clicking at the x in the corner of the new ad. when it opens three new tabs, all you can do is groan and close the laptop. you have an exam tomorrow, today is your first day of the period, which means tomorrow it's going to be worse, and to make things better, you are bombarded with photos of nude men and women, with attached locations, chat boxes and quotes. you feel sick.
yet again, you have just a little more of this lesson left, and if you could manage to spend so many hours fighting the virus bots, you can do it for ten more minutes. all out of motivation and will to live, you turn the laptop back on. the screen brightness almost blinds you, you forget how dark it has become and how bright your screen is. your eyes skim over the words, your brain so focused on focusing, that you forget to focus. you are frustrated, in pain, your hair is so greasy you could model it like clay, and your are nails half bitten off.
three minutes until your sleeping schedule starts, and five more long paragraphs to read. taking a deep breath, you click the arrow to scroll. as if the laptop is mocking you, it delivers you another message.
wooyoung (23), offers both mental and physical relief. check it out!
the ad flashes across the whole screen, the x not even visible on this one. you don't feel anything anymore. you've gone completely numb. accepted your fate. this will be your reminder to not study the last day ever again. you stare at the pink letters, then the picture on the side of it. it shows a young man, and oddly enough, not all oiled up and naked on it. it is a selfie, and in it he lays on the bed in the same position as you. how odd, to put a normal and clothed person on a sex ad.
"fuck it."
you drag the arrow over the highlighted letters, sighing. months, maybe even a whole year spent without a sexual contact. you didn't crave it. nothing in real life turned you on. maybe you didn't pay enough attention. maybe you've overgrown simple flirting and poor tries of having one night stands at parties. maybe all those young adult fantasy books on your shelves have raised your standards. looking back at the things that used to get you going makes you cringe. you've evolved from poorly acted out porn videos, to pages full of dark haired morally grey characters, blindfolds, leather gloves, candle wax, and whatnot.
you have yet to try out anything other than poor rubbings over the jeans you've received, not even orgasming. one night, three whole minutes of a drunk guy almost irritating your skin from harsh rubs, and a fake moan later, you start to wonder if you're the problem. proposing the idea of anything other than missionary and oral would make you the weird one, especially since you're a virgin. men here are shallow, and would rather jerk off to an amateur movie than try to match your standards and make the whole thing actually enjoyable.
the link you've clicked on doesn't open multiple tabs like the previous ones did. instead, it opens a single site, which first asks you to register and confirm your age. eager to see if the man in the picture was really the one offering such services, you log in with your google account, which unknowingly to you, used your picture and real name to set up the new account. your notes and pens are discarded on the floor, and your focus is on the man currently showing off his rings.
his hands are veiny, that is the first thing you notice. decorated with silver rings, nails neatly trimmed, with the pinky one painted black, and fingers oddly satisfying to look at. he brushes those same fingers through his hair, making it change colour for a split second. you notice that he is half blonde, which just makes you realize that sleep is not an option tonight. at least not yet.
"anyone want to open today's topic before i start?" he offers, scrolling through the comments.
you watch as people comment various topics and requests, the main one being for him to start touching himself already. for a sex cam, he does quite a lot of talking. maybe that's why you haven't left the site yet, but are staring at the way his teeth are biting his lip while his eyes focus on the bright screen.
"your friends are shaming you for having a threesome?" he reads out loud, then sighs. "they're probably virgins. or inexperienced girls who got fucked once then dumped. only they shame people for their sexual desires. they have no creativity at all. i can't imagine jerking off with just my hand anymore. feels bland. don't worry about them."
your fingers are quicker than your brain, and before you even register it, you hit send.
a soft laugh travels to your ears, and you just know it's because of your comment.
"you beg to differ?" he says, brushing his hair back again. he takes a moment to think. his rings shine under the dimmed lights, and you can't help but wonder how it would be to feel that cool sensation on your body.
you'd love to have him feel you up and down with this rings on, a cold contrast on your hot skin. you wouldn't budge if he were to put that hand against your neck, giving it light squeezes just enough to give you a thrill. you'd even let him do it in front of that camera of his, make all of these thirsty girls jealous because you're the one moaning his name. shit, you're really into him. or rather this whole situation. and he hasn't done a single sexual gesture.
"a virgin on my page. interesting." the young man hums, his eyebrows scrunched. "isn't life boring as a virgin? i mean, what do you do?"
i study, you're quick to reply again.
"i meant sexually, love." he laughs, somewhat fondly.
was it that obvious that you're a virgin? your cheeks feel hot, and you now wish to exit the page. but by doing that, you'll just prove him right. he'll make fun of you too, just like he did to those friends. you sigh. he doesn't know who you are, so it doesn't matter. you'll be honest, and maybe he'll give you a solution.
using hands isn't that boring
"ever tried a toy? or a person?"
tried a person. got disappointed.
"ah, what a shame. let me guess, gave you blisters from rubbing?"
oh just how did you know?
"poor thing," he coos, "if you had come to the right person, i would've given you just what you need."
the words come out raspy, and there's a sudden change on his face. you wonder if you said anything wrong. if he was thinking about banning you. but instead, a notification pops up in the corner of your screen.
wooyoung has sent you a message request!
oh.
oh.
"anyways, let's move on. am i in a hotel? ah, no. i recently moved houses, this will be my new filming room now. not as special as the previous one, but i need time to decorate it."
he keeps talking, eyes glancing at his phone every now and then, as if expecting you to answer right away. you are shaking, your head feels dizzy, and you find it hard to swallow. was he going to tell you privately to fuck off of his site? how embarrassing that would be. you wouldn't ever recover.
wooyoung has sent you a message request!
two of them now, yet you're still debating whether or not to exit and delete your browsing history. it won't hurt to look. you don't have to reply. you can just take a peek, leave him on read, and fuck out of there. it's not like he will see you on the street tomorrow. he could be on a whole different continent, and yet, he could be five houses away from you. either way, you're feeling vulnerable. those messages are either humiliation, or something entirely different. both of those make you feel uneasy.
then again, this is the only thing that sparked something inside you in these few months of feeling burnt out from reading all that erotica. the only difference is, this is happening. really happening. a whole man is in your chat, while he has an ongoing sex stream with more than five thousand people watching and commenting. and so when you say fuck it, you mean it.
wooyoung: ever tried an innocent soft little pillow?
wooyoung: guaranteed, feels better than a horny teenage boy.
your breathing is shallow, and you fear that you might collapse. his next message contains a phone number, and then, you watch him drop the phone on his bed. his focus is now on the camera, and the way his eyes stare into the lens, makes you feel as if they're searching for you. deciding to further test the waters, and see if he is just trying to have a little fun, or if he really has taken an ounce of interest in an inexperienced watcher, you send a text back.
he stops mid sentence, glancing at his phone. he fails to hide a smirk, and you're not sure whether it is the one of amusement or mocking.
am I, a boring old virgin, good enough for a pillow?
being a virgin doesn't mean you're all that innocent. quite the opposite, in your friend group, you are the one who leaves them all shocked when you speak of your desires. yet, who guarantees that this guy can accomplish what you want? they all want to "rock your world", show you how "good" it can be, until the make-out session is over and they come in their pants from simple dry humping. and you? who cares about if you came. your job is done the moment they come to their senses, and you are left to your growing disappointment in young men your age again.
wooyoung: does the boring old virgin know how to use one? perhaps some assistance is needed?
you swallow. you've never used anything other than your hand before. for someone with such a creative mind, you were quite a bore when it comes to pleasing yourself. you were used to your own touch, and you desperately needed someone else to fill the spot.
you glance at the screen. he is now holding something in his hand. it's clear, and long, and you're not sure if you've seen that before. your mind doesn't get enough time to form a thought, because he sticks two fingers in his mouth. he swirls the tongue around them, coating them until they're shimmering like the rings. sensually slow, he takes them out, making sure to give the camera a dreamy gaze. he turns the gadget towards the camera, and just when you figure out what it is, he brings his wet fingers to the hole in the toy. he circles the entrance, causing your tights to squeeze. you are so mesmerized by the way he slowly inserts his fingers into the toy, that you don't realize you are almost panting.
"need to prepare her for me." he says, giving it a few slow pumps.
you can almost feel his fingers on your cunt, he is just that good at this. each pump of his fingers sends a wave of butterflies straight to your abdomen. it's so painful, to be horny on your period. otherwise you would've came twice by now.
"think I've prepared her enough?"
comments are flooded with positive feedback, and the young man smirks. he readjusts the camera, and sits with his back against the bed frame. he wears short sweatpants, perfectly showing off his not so humble size. he takes his sweet time to undo the knot on them, driving the watchers (including you) insane. he laughs at the comments, and decides it's enough teasing.
"for all the virgins here tonight," he says, then glances at his phone.
finally, he pulls his sweats down. his cock find its place in his hand, not allowing you to take a better look. wooyoung gives himself a few slow strokes, head falling against the headboard as he does so. he hums, licking his fingers and pressing them against his cock. you have stopped breathing. his gaze is fixed on the lens, eyelids half closed, and breathing shallow. your eyes watch his movements, carefully documenting and engraving them in your brain so you can replay them for the next few weeks. he takes the toy, sliding it on his cock. your mouth drops when you see the absolute relief on his face, followed by an eyeroll and a deep moan. you figure that the toy serves him as a fake pussy. why a fake one, when he can have anyone he likes? his watchers must get jealous. you would be too, if you saw someone so hot that gives you such attention fuck someone else.
a few strokes in, and he is already bucking his hips upwards and moaning. wet noises travel to your ears, paired with multiple curses and sighs. suddenly, he sits up, grabbing two pillows from behind his back. he places a pillow on the mattress, the toy, then another pillow on top of all that. you almost gasp when you see him spit on his fingers, rubbing his cock, then slowly insert it into the toy. he grabs the pillows, then plunges his hips into it. he groans, and stays inside for a moment. then, he starts off with slow thrusts.
you've read so much about rough sex, that you didn't even think about the sensual side of it. how good it must be to savour every caress, every lick and every stroke. to actually take your time, like he is taking it with a simple toy. to be at his mercy for hours, what you'd give. helpless, deprived of senses, only him and you. you feel your heartbeat slow down as he stares into the lens, hips moving with such pace that has your stomach almost exploding.
overwhelmed by the situation unfolding in front of you, you shut your laptop down. you see your face on the black screen; cheeks puffed, pupils dilated, and mouth dry. fuck, what was that? did you just watch live porn? and did you interact with the person doing it? you check the time, and with a loud groan, you place the laptop on the floor and roll over. you have so little time to get some quality sleep, yet you're wide awake. your studying is nowhere near done, and you just know that a prayer won't save you tomorrow. from the exam, nor from the cramps.
surprisingly, you passed the exam. everything you've read last night managed to stick to your brain, despite the crazy situation that had interrupted you. you have already forgotten about it. when you woke up, it all seemed like a part of your dream. a very real dream. today, you didn't have time to think about it. your hair is a greasy mess, and an oversized hoodie hangs from your shoulders, covering your bloated stomach. you've dreamed about a cup of your favorite pink beverage all morning, and when the clock finally showed a sweet number four, you were the first one to run out of the building. your phone lays forgotten at the bottom of your backpack, mind too cluttered with the upcoming projects and cramps.
the coffee shop isn't as busy for a monday morning, and the timing is just right. you cannot stand anymore, so when you get next in line, you are relieved. you take a good look at the menu above the counter, happy that you've made it through such a tough morning.
"good day, how can i help you?"
your smile fades as quick as it arrives. you feel like all the blood in your body has pooled down in your feet, making it hard to move.
"oh, do you need to sit down? you look very..." the voice pauses, and you can feel an intense gaze on your face, before he continues "...pale."
you drop your gaze, slowly, feeling like the person is going to catch on if you do it in normal pace. right in front of you, stands the man who you watched fuck a pillow last night. he is very much real, not a fruit of your imagination combined with exhaust. he smiles sweetly, showing you towards a chair. you don't move. instead, you blink, and let your mouth run.
"i'll have the strawberry mocha please."
he scrunches his eyebrows, but begins to tap on his screen anyway.
"whipp-?"
"with whipped cream, thanks. just, uh, extra syrup. and pearl sprinkles."
he raises an eyebrow, looking at you suspiciously. you can't tell if it's because of your relation to his odd interaction last night, or simply because you are acting weird.
"that'll be-"
you interrupt again, pressing your credit card to the gadget near the cash register, eyes not leaving the wooden surface. with behaviour like this, he will soon figure out why you are acting this way. you must stop, before you embarrass yourself more.
"name?"
"anna," you blurt out, just in case.
"right," you think you hear him scoff, and if it weren't for your brain slowing down with each second, you would've asked what's so funny.
once he types in everything he needs, he points towards an empty section, gesturing you to take a seat. sitting on that chair has never been more uncomfortable for you. you feel like you sat on thorns, and no matter how you adjust, you are just making annoying creaking noises.
you glance at the man behind the counter. a lump forms in your throat as your eyes scan his hand movements. he is invested in the shaker, fingers skillfully moving it in the air. your concentration gets stolen by his face, loose strands falling on it eyes focused on the drink, and eyebrows scrunched. even if he was a aware of you staring, (you doubt he didn't notice), he doesn't spare you a glance. he pours the drink into the iced cup, spilling a little on his fingers and on the counter. you follow his hand, which takes a straw and drops it into the cup, and then moves towards his mouth. your breath stops in your throat, and your eyes almost drop on the floor.
he sticks the two wet fingers in his mouth, slowly, and looks up right at you. he catches you red handed, or better said, red cheeked. you're flustered by his hot, unprofessional, but hot move. and as if that wasn't enough, he has the audacity to maintain eyecontact as he brings you your beverage, a slight smirk dancing on his lips.
"your drink, anna."
"thank you, woo-" you freeze.
idiot. fucking idiot.
"ah, you managed to read my name tag."
he saves you, perhaps unknowingly. the amount of attention that his hands are gaining from you should be concerning, yet you still can't stop admiring those strangely attractive veins peeking from under his rolled up sleeve, going all the way to the fingers which are fixing the name tag.
"wooyoung, your shift ended ten minutes ago!" the voice behind the counter calls.
"oops." he snickers, then makes his way towards the counter, allowing you to take a look at his back too.
the thin white shirt is a little tight on his body, just enough to show off quite a few lines on his back. funnily enough, even though you've seen him naked, something about those clothes giving you a teaser is much more of a button pusher for you. the anticipation and buildup were always more interesting to you than the actual thing they lead to.
you laugh at yourself. as if any of that is going to happen to you any time soon. deciding you've spent enough time out of your comfy apartment today, you decide to put a lid on your coffee and leave the shop. at the door, someone tries to get out before you, but once they realize it's a bit tight for both, two hands gently find their way on your waist. a strong scent of jasmine washes over your senses, warm and firm body pressed against your back.
"oh, watch it, love."
and with that, you stand on the entrance, watching the familiar man run off to his car, the barista apron resting over his shoulder.
wooyoung: disconnected mid show?
wooyoung: was it too overwhelming for your first time?
wooyoung: shame, i put my all into that orgasm, only to see you disconnected long ago
you are rolling in your bed, listening to the messages that are being read out loud by your very best friend. disbelief evident in his voice, he reads, over and over. you haven't yet replied, and having an actual encounter with him today didn't make it easier for you to do so.
"he's, like, a hundred percent real?"
"he very much is."
"are you sure? because ai is getting very scary these days-"
"yunho." you sit up, face inches away from him. "i stood this close to him."
the tips of his ears turn red, and you manage to catch a single glance he sends towards your lips. you ignore it, trying to convince yourself that if you do not notice, it will not happen. his behaviour will stop.
"he is very much real."
"o-okay," he stutters, turning his head sideways as to avoid being caught staring again, "so what now?"
"i don't know. what is there to do? he's just some porn guy, and i was just an accidental watcher. nothing is going to happen."
"and-"
your phone pings, as if knowing what yunho was about to ask.
"-the messages?"
"i'll just..." you stall, glancing at the phone and trying to see the notification, "...delete it all."
the man in front of you scoffs, believing in your words as much as you. he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket along the way.
"i'll see you in class tomorrow."
you only nod, feeling guilt pooling up at the bottom of your stomach. yet, as soon as you hear the door shut, you grab your phone. indeed, messages from wooyoung are taking up your phone screen.
wooyoung: out of curiosity, you didn't happen to try the pillow thing?
wooyoung: need to borrow mine?
you bite your lip, and your eyes fall on the pile of pillows yunho used to make himself comfortable.
i haven't tried it. and no, i have four of them.
wooyoung: shame. bet they'd love to be suffocated between your legs.
you choke on your spit, eyes skimming over the message multiple times.
that one of your fetishes? being suffocated with female tights?
wooyoung: you have no idea.
a few minutes pass,and you are thinking of various replies to send to him. do you keep talking to him? do you start flirting? is this considered flirting? if yes, are you doing a good job? a few more minutes pass before your phone dings again, wooyoung interrupting your thinking process.
wooyoung: well, i see that you're extremely disinterested in my tries of communication, so i shall just leave you be. hope my actions and i weren't overwhelming for you. if that's the case, my sincere apologies. you're always welcome to my lives though.
wooyoung: oh, and good luck studying!
"no, no," you whisper, seeing the online tag under his name disappear. your lack of communication with actual confident men and your awkwardness in general made him back off. it all felt too real to be true, but it was real. and you let it slip away. your only chance at gaining experience and living out your fantasies.
i'm not disinterested!
shit, you shouldn't have sent that exclamation mark. he will think you are desperate now. he doesn't reply, nor does the tag under his name reappear. you wait, minutes, half an hour, just rolling on the bed and switching between apps, trying to see if he at least went online. maybe he only read it from his notifications, and that wasn't enough to make him come back. you pick up the last few ounces of desperation you have left, and grab a pillow. you sit on it, crushing it between your legs, and pull your oversized hoodie just enough to cover your bottom and expose your thighs. you have discarded the pants the moment you entered the house, already used to walking around in yunho's old comfy boxers. you snap a picture, once, then twice, until you are satisfied with the angle and all the details that he may not even notice; like your chipped nail polish or the messy notes from yunho's studying.
instantly, wooyoung comes back online. he begins typing, then stops. he types again, and stops once more. you are biting your nails, regretting already. now that he knows how desperate you are, he will lose interest in you. you would too if you were him. you zoom into the picture, trying to figure out if anything is wrong with it.
wooyoung saved the picture in the chat!
oh.
wooyoung: fuck, that's
wooyoung: wow
wooyoung: those are the smoothest and softest thighs i've ever seen in my life
wooyoung: you know when you look at something and you know the texture of it? i bet i could just sink between them just like that pillow
wooyoung: could you ride that for me, angel?
the nickname sends arrows to your core, and you gulp. he knows his way with words, and you are so here for it. you can feel yourself dripping, and not from what you're supposed to drip from. your horny levels hit the sky on your period, and oh, how convenient that all of this is happening on the second day of it. he doesn't have to know, you could keep him hooked, until your period is done. but then what? what guarantees that he will not lose interest once he has a little fun with you with all the dirty talk?
your hands work against your brain, and soon enough, you are grinding on the soft material, one hand holding the phone and the other one covering your mouth so that no noises come out of it. if it feels good with so many layers on you, how good can it feel with your bare clit rubbing against it?
wooyoung: atta girl
wooyoung: feel good?
you only moan at the praise he delivers you, hips speeding up the pace.
yes, you manage to quickly type in.
wooyoung: can you type and work it? is it hard for my good girl to multitask?
you set the phone aside, focusing entirely on the object between your legs. you roll your hips, dedicated to chasing the sweet pleasure that has abandoned you for so long. at the memory of his skilled hips last night, the orgasm washes over you so quickly. his choice of words significantly sped up the process, and you aren't to complain. you take your time to calm your breathing, before taking the phone in your hands again. it was new, and different, but most importantly, fucking good.
the euphoria doesn't last long, the look of horror replacing the one of pure bliss on your face. right under wooyoung's message stood yours.
voice message sent.
it is you shamelessly whimpering and grunting, mere four seconds of it, yet enough to make wooyoung save it in the chat.
wooyoung: is it christmas already?
wooyoung: i keep getting present after present. what did i do to deserve it?
wooyoung: i better go fix the problem you've created.
wooyoung has sent a picture! tap to view.
the picture is dark, but there is just enough lighting for you to see his defined v-line and the bulge in his sweatpants. you bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile. you made someone horny. not just anyone, but wooyoung, a porn creator. he has surely seen lots of things, how come a fully clothed picture and a four second audio could get him in the mood?
you have saved the picture in the chat!
in the next few days, you ask yunho to pick up the beverage from the coffee shop while you grab something to eat. he is happy that you started including breakfast in your day, and isn't yet aware that you are only avoiding the man he also knew about. perhaps wooyoung worked different shifts, and they didn't have an encounter yet? it's a bit cruel towards yunho, but you can't make yourself go in there. not until you've grown some dignity.
today, yunho isn't here. he has only answered to your message, saying that he has a flu, and that he will be resting for a day or two. which leaves you to getting the coffee on your own. you run from the rain, your umbrella broken and swimming away somewhere down the road. you would've picked it up and threw it away, really, if that lighting wasn't so close to you and you started running for your life. you are soaked, the hoodie stuck to your skin and the shorts uncomfortable and heavy. you hurriedly enter the coffee shop and exhale, the warmth of the place caressing your cold cheeks. you notice the place is empty, and the chairs are neatly tucked under the tables. the surfaces have been freshly wiped, and no menus or decorations were on them.
you approach the counter, ready to grab your beverage and leave before you make a bigger mess. nobody is there, the syrups and coffee cans are neatly placed on the shelves, not a drop of water visible on the counters. your eyes notice a little board, with pink letters on it.
due to sudden illness of two out of three workers, we are forced to work short hours this week. thank you for understanding!
underneath, you see that they work until four in the afternoon. you check the time, and upon noticing that it is just two minutes before four, you sigh. you turn around, ready to leave and rid the poor worker of trouble after they already prepared the place for closing.
"oh, i'm terribly sorry, i didn't notice you!"
the voice makes your blood run cold, and once again, you find yourself frozen in spot. only this time, you are all alone with him. no people surrounding you. just him, you, and the crazy weather outside.
"please, feel free to order. you have a minute and a half to place it!"
you turn around, eyes locking with brown ones. he is smiling sweetly, pointing towards the menu above his head.
"i don't want to bother you. you've cleaned the whole place and-" your eyes drop on the see through shirt hugging his body "-you've already taken your apron off."
"luckily, my boss is sick too so she can't give me crap about it. i can make your drink without it."
you make your way towards the counter again, eyes skimming over the menu, knowing damn well what you're going to order. you just have to buy yourself time so you can calm down. the scent of jasmine is taking over your senses, creeping into your mind and bringing back memories you wish so hard to forget so you can move on with your life. he is tugging you into the void, and you have nothing to get you out of there. you haven't heard from him since the day you rode the pillow for him, and you didn't have time to watch any of his lives.
"well, then. i'll have a strawberry mocha."
"ah, so it's your usual then."
"yes. extra syrup. and the pearl sprinkles, please."
"and whipped cream, yes", he types in the order, then looks behind. "you know, we have some strawberry cupcakes that didn't sell today due to the weather. would you like one? on the house!"
you hesitate, not wanting to waste his time. he could be home by now, doing something important. like filming himself. or texting you after you've left him on seen. or better said, saved.
"i really don't want to waste your time."
"you're not wasting my time, trust me. besides, i'd rather stay here a little more until my phone finishes charging. i don't want to get stuck in that weather outside with no battery."
he sees you hesitate and eye up the pink pastries, desire obvious in your eyes. he chuckles, then brings the whole tray on the counter.
"tell you what," he grabs the items needed for your beverage, not breaking eye contact with you, "i'll make us two strawberry mochas, and we'll eat those cupcakes so they don't get wasted until the weather calms down. sound good?"
you gulp. the look on your face is a complete opposite of him, as well as your body language. he is relaxed, beaming with confidence, and has a smile on his lips. meanwhile, you are stiff, your face is blank, maybe even scared at the fact that you're gonna be alone with the man who made you cum without touching you. but when thunder echoes through the place, you agree.
it doesn't take him long to make them and bring them to your booth in the corner of the shop. the smell of strawberries is the only thing keeping you sane at the moment. he sits across from you, shirt half unbuttoned, as if it's the warmest day of the spring outside. he doesn't have a care in the world. he silently enjoys the cupcake, occasionally glancing at you. you are slow with yours, careful not to stain your clothes with the pink icing.
"want to try?"
you look over at him. he brings his glass closer towards you, and aligns the straw with your lips.
"isn't it the same?"
"well, no." he laughs awkwardly. "try it, trust me."
you try taking the glass from him, but he is persistent in holding it for you. you wrap your lips around the straw, eyes locked with his dark ones.
"atta girl." he hums.
you swear you could orgasm right there on the spot. you pull at the liquid, cheeks hollowing and creating a perfect scene for him. he is dead serious, the smirks and chuckles long left behind the counter. the moment your tongue tastes alcohol, you push the drink away from you, creamy liquid dripping from your lips.
"fuck, is that whiskey?"
you wipe your top off with your sleeve, not yet realizing wooyoung's intense gaze on your lips.
"yes." he replies, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.
"god, why?" you finally lick the cream off your lips, ridding wooyoung of more fantasies forming in his head.
"it's good. why, don't like alcohol?"
you never really did. sure, you drank some tequilas, and a little gin of course, but not to the point to get drunk or actually go for a full round or two.
"i'm actually quite a virgin when it comes to alcohol."
the words are left hanging in the air, silence wrapping you both up. one might think that you knew exactly what you were doing with the choice of words, but you were plain dense. and wooyoung was here for it. he was whipped for all the innocent sides you were unknowingly showing him, but lord forbid he tells you anything. otherwise, you might stop talking at all.
"you can come over for classes if you want..." he brings the glass back in front of him, a smirk dancing on his lips, "...anna."
"yeah, i don't want any alcohol after my real classes, thank you."
the conversation stops, the only sound being quiet chewing and the rain pouring. wooyoung takes his time to think, and so do you.
"that yunho guy-"
"what do you do in your free time-"
you start at the same time. yunho? how does he know his name?
"you go first," you offer, unwrapping another cupcake.
"that yunho guy, he orders a single strawberry mocha with extra syrup and pearl sprinkles every day when you don't come. whipped cream too, of course. for you, assuming?"
you nod, poking those same sprinkles with your straw. yunho has been a little more absent in your life since this whole thing has started, and you feel bad to admit that you didn't really miss him. you weren't using him for coffee or homework, of course. you still like to occasionally chat with him, just not like before. especially since his feelings are coming more to the surface.
"yes, for me."
wooyoung hums, not asking further questions.
"so uh, wooyoung, right? you're new here?" you opt for a different question, seeing that he didn't remind you to finish the previous one.
"jung wooyoung, yes. i moved from los angeles recently, didn't find my luck there."
"ah, what do you do?"
"porn."
and just like that, the conversation stops. at least from your side. your head hangs low over your paper cup, fingers now playing with the cupcake wrap as you feel his gaze on you.
"are we going to act like you don't know what that is?"
"i know what it is," you stutter, fingers ripping the wrap apart and playing with bits from nervousness, "i just don't quite, you know, fit in that area."
"you sure fit in that night."
you choke on your spit, eyes shooting up to look at him. his elbow rests on the desk, supporting his head, while his other one plays with the empty cup. his finger grazes the corners, slowly circling it, as if trying to help you remember that night and the way the did it to the toy. your mouth goes dry, and you feel at his complete mercy.
"how-" you clear your throat, the roughness of it a dead giveaway that he caught you, "-how did you, uh, know?"
"you're telling me you saw nothing wrong with entering the coffee shop with that hoodie on, knowing full well i work here?"
you look down at the hoodie you're wearing. how fucking ironic, that it's the same hoodie you posed in for him. you really are that dense.
"i should get going."
"i can drive you home. you're not thinking of walking in this weather?"
him and you? in such a small space? for such a long time? what if you blurt out more stupid things, as if you haven't embarrassed yourself enough today? you wouldn't blame him if he left you on the side of the road.
the train of thoughts is interrupted by your name rolling off his lips so sweetly, dripping milk and honey. your actual name, not the fake one you gave him.
"yes?"
"i'm not camboy wooyoung now. i'm just wooyoung, your friendly barista. and when i say i can and want to drive you home, i mean it. no funny business. the last thing i want to do is make a loyal costumer uncomfortable."
it doesn't take long for him to clean up the table and grab his phone from the charging station. you patiently wait by the door, ears and cheeks warm from the unfamiliar situation you've found yourself in. you follow his commands, such as coming behind the counter and slipping through the staff door so that the cameras don't catch you. you squeeze into the pantry, waiting for him to lock the doors one by one.
"so, that yunho guy didn't take your virginity yet?" he blurts out, as if it is the most normal question he could ask.
"what?"
"well," he turns around, facing you, "he is your boyfriend after all, isn't he?"
"that's not quite- oh-" you are pressed into the corner, with wooyoung blocking the way out. he puts his hands on the wall, trapping you between his arms and forcing you to look at him.
"does your boyfriend know that you watch filth and film yourself for another man?"
"he isn't-"
"does he know that his innocent little girlfriend is alone with that same man inside an empty coffee shop, away from everyone?"
you fail to answer, instead opting for silence. your eyes fall on his exposed chest, fingers yearning to touch. you feel a hand under your chin, gently lifting your head up so that you can look at him again. you see pure desire in his eyes, and now you know exactly what the authors mean when they say that his eyes darkened with lust. you are witnessing it first hand, and now that you are finally here, you are not acting the way you did in your mind.
he brings his face close to yours, his loose hair strands tickling your cheeks. his breathing is shallow, much like yours, and when he slowly presses his lips against yours, you breathing stops completely. he holds your chin in his hand, thumb gently rubbing your cheek, while his other hand finds its place on your hip. he pulls your body into his, and ever so gently bites down on your bottom lip.
your first normal kiss ever. with the man you watched masturbate on a crucial studying night. he pulls away, just enough to move your hair out of the way.
"am i making you uncomfortable?" he asks, concern taking over his features.
"no," you whisper, not trusting your voice.
"you sure?"
"please keep kissing me." you look up at him, and wooyoung swears that he has never seen such big pleading eyes in his entire life. just how can he deny you such a thing, when you asked him so sweetly and innocently?
wooyoung loses control, and lets his heart take over. his hands grab your waist, picking you up and seating you on a nearby surface, knocking some cups and cutlery over in the process. his lips are pressed against yours again, moving slowly until you get used to it. your hands hesitantly wrap around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on it. wooyoung exhales into your lips, absolutely whipped for your little gestures.
you are soaking wet. you hope he doesn't feel it, considering he has your legs wrapped around his waist and your cunt pressed against his firm torso. with each kiss he so generously delivers you, a new batch of butterflies gets released in your stomach, making you feel all giggly and excited. he smells absolutely heavenly, and the way his tongue is grazing your lips is driving you mad. his fingers press into your thigh, feeling the flesh and lightly squeezing it. so he really does have a thigh fetish.
you whine when he pulls away from you, only to attach his lips to your neck. he drags his tongue down the side of your neck, to your collarbone. his hands sneak under your hoodie, lingering on your bare skin for a moment. you realize he is waiting for a sign to keep going, so you help him raise your hoodie right under your chest.
"should i stop?"
you didn't quite picture him as a man who would ask for consent multiple times. but then again, he is a man. not a boy. and just like he said: right now, he isn't camboy wooyoung. he is your friendly barista wooyoung. a particularly touchy friendly barista wooyoung. not that you're complaining.
"angel?"
absolutely lost in the way he is looking at you, you fail to answer. you feel so small in his arms, and so inexperienced when it comes to simple kissing. god, what if he wants something more right away?
"i need to know you're comfortable. i won't do anything if-"
you stop him by taking his hand and placing it on your breast. he gulps, gently squeezing the soft flesh. why does he seem so nervous? doesn't he fuck multiple people in a span of a month?
he rubs your tense buds, sending little shockwaves to your core. as soon as you lift the hoodie to your collarbones, wooyoung is quick to take your bud into his mouth. he teases with the tip of his tongue, making you twitch and yelp in his grip. you aren't used to this type of pleasure. it's new, and intensive. you love it.
his other hand keeps up the pace his tongue has set, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive buds. you struggle with breathing, and your hands are reaching out to grab anything; the counter, his shoulders, his hair, the counter again, and so on. your head falls back, and the feeling of pure bliss pools in your stomach. you feel like you could orgasm any moment, yet it never happens. wooyoung switches between each bud, treating them both equally. a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth, making wooyoung hum. he is pleased with the way you're responding to him, so jumpy and whiny while he feasts on your body.
when he pulls away, you see a string of saliva connecting his lips with your breast. you moan at the sight, feeling adrenaline running through your veins and waiting to explode somewhere in your body. wooyoung drops down on his knees, fingers hooked in the elastic band of your shorts.
"if i don't get crushed between your thighs right now, i don't think i'll live to see another day."
even from that position, he is emitting insane dominant energy, and you are just a marionette in his hands.
"please."
you raise your hips just enough to help him pull the shorts down, along with the panties. you are thankful that they are the new ones you had discovered this morning since buying them a month ago. though, they were ruined with your arousal anyway and wooyoung probably couldn't care less. but instead of tossing them aside, he raises them in front of his eyes, admiring them.
"that's so fucking adorable."
they are plain pastel panties, with a small row of lace on the top of it. you figure he is used to strings and thongs, and how new a normal set of panties must seem to him. wooyoung folds the panties, and stuffs them in his pocket. too taken aback by his action, you do not have time to react when he places your legs over his shoulders.
"you don't have to cum. i just want to show you how good it can be."
you mean you want to leave me yearning for your touch as if i am not desperate enough?
"is that alright? can i lick you until you pass out?"
he knows exactly which words drive you insane. as if he was living in your head since you discovered the first young adult fantasy book. you nod, then breathe in. the sudden lighting outside makes you aware of where you are. you are about to have your cunt devoured by none other than the new barista everyone around you is crushing on, in one of the staff rooms. soft café music is heard in the distance now that the rain has calmed down, and it is only adding up to the rather odd, but once in a lifetime situation you are in.
a flat, wet muscle presses against your folds, softly licking up your arousal and stopping at your clit. you try to close your legs at the new feeling of pleasure, but wooyoung is quick to grab your thighs and keep them apart just enough so he can get you used to the feeling. your legs shake as the tip of his tongue massages the tip of your clit, pure pleasure taking over your body and completely shutting your brain off. you are a whining mess, shaking in his arms, pulling at his hair, and whatnot. his eyes never leave your face, memorizing every eyebrow scrunch, every eyeroll, every moan and every hand movement. he is entirely mesmerized by your existence. he has never seen anyone let their guard down like this and put themselves at his complete mercy.
he switches between techniques, not yet allowing you to work up your orgasm. he figures you like circles with the tip of his tongue best, they have you being more vocal and squirmy in his hold. wooyoung then snakes his hands under your bottom, gently lifting your lower body so that your head and shoulders lay comfortably on the wooden surface. your hips are in the air, and your legs hang off his shoulders. you are confused by the position he has you in, until he dives into your cunt once more. you moan, fingers reaching to pull at his soft hair. this time he doesn't separate your thighs, but instead presses his face further into your arousal and squishes your flesh against his cheeks, licking every drop you have to offer him.
"wooyoung-" you whine, hips subconsciously grinding against his face.
"good, good girl." he hums, lips closing around your bud and sucking on it.
you clench, body tensing up upon feeling the orgasm approaching.
"fuck- fuck-" you whine, hands gripping the shelves above your head.
wooyoung slows his movements to the max, carefully sliding his tongue up and down your clit, driving you insane with the orgasm delay. you want to cum so bad, but everything feels too much, you are sweating so bad, and the position you are in is making you more vulnerable and sensitive.
"please, please, please, pretty please" you beg, voice already betraying you and cracking at the end.
wooyoung groans against your cunt, then moves away. you gasp with surprise. all the pleasure leaves your body, and you are now laying on the surface again. you support yourself on your elbows, enough to look at him and ask just why he stopped.
"prettiest cunt i've ever seen in my life." he caresses your skin above it.
"why-" you breathe out, "- why did you stop? i was so, so close-"
"i had to, angel. i don't want you cumming in a pantry on an uncomfortable surface."
you watch him lick his lips, disbelief evident on your face. he chuckles, picking your shorts up from the floor.
"panties?"
"i'll get you new ones."
were the panties really that interesting to him? wooyoung reaches for something above your head, pressing his lips on your forehead before grabbing paper towels. you are sensitive to his touch, feeling overstimulated and irritated even though you didn't orgasm. he patiently wipes you, then pulls your shorts up, not forgetting to caress your thighs along the way.
"come here." he instructs.
you sit up, feet swinging from the counter. the man in front of you pulls you in for a kiss, this time a short one.
"you did very good. i hope you get your real orgasm somewhere comfy."
he hopes? was this a farewell? he had his little fun with you, and now he is no longer interested?
"come on, the weather is calmer now. i'll still drive you home though."
and just like that, he proceeds outside, leaving you with thoughts for a few moments. you feel a little humiliated, and very vulnerable and exposed. still, you follow him outside, and get into his car. it is a neat car, that you notice. it smells like an ocean breeze, and he has a camera above his steering wheel.
"not for porn," he interrupts your thoughs.
you have forgotten about that side of him. in the moment, it seemed like he was just a normal guy who hooked up with you because he thinks you are cute. in reality, he is probably bored of all those skilled partners and wants something new, so he used you as a little project. you feel hurt, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes as you look out the window. you haven't spared him a single glance, scared that he might be pitiful towards you. that's the last thing you need.
"right, then left?" he asks, steering the wheel with one hand.
"yeah."
it doesn't take long before the car stops in front of a familiar building. you don't see yunho's car, and just then remember that he is sick and resting at home. wooyoung has clouded your mind so much that you don't have any other thoughts, only ones about him.
"thank you for sharing the cupcakes with me." he winks, then unlocks the door.
you aren't ready to say goodbye just yet. if you leave the car, will everything be back the way it was? him acting like he doesn't know you, and vice versa? are you supposed to go in there and order your strawberry mocha from him like it doesn't associate you with today's event?
"wooyoung?"
"yes, angel?"
you play with your fingers in your lap, deciding which words would be the best to make him stay in your life just a little longer.
"can you teach me?"
"teach you?"
"yes. you are so experienced, and i am just a dumb virgin with a big imagination."
he stops to think. he bites the inside of his cheek, and you mimic him.
"i'd destroy you."
you clench around nothing, hearing his raspy voice say such words to you. you know he means them, you saw him mean them. but you are up for it. anything, just to get another taste of him.
"i don't mind."
he sighs, smile still dancing on his lips. "just what are you?"
since the day you had your first orgasm denial, you have heard from him only once, and only because you sent the message first.
i'm not seeing those panties again, right?
wooyoung: nope.
okay
okay? okay??? you could at least put some effort into flirting. you are only pushing him away, instead of inching towards another meeting, this one preferably ending with an orgasm. the notifications about his lives were now regulars on your phone screen, and though you never quite watched them, you like to think he does it for you. slight jealousy has appeared, and you have to stop it before it spreads. but after all, you are the one that has gained his attention.
you decide to visit yunho. he has been sick for quite some time, and has been rarely answering your messages. you have prepared him his favourite soup, and bought his favorite chocolate bar.
"yunnie, you're alive!"
you jump into his arms, forgetting that he might still be weak from being sick. but he catches you effortlessly, a fond smile on his lips as he keeps your body close to him.
"feeling better?"
"almost." he replies, gently setting you down on the floor. "how have you been?"
"bored, honestly. i miss gossiping with you and getting yelled at by other students. oh, turns out mark did cheat on jenna!"
"knew it."
yunho makes his way to the kitchen to grab you a drink and put away the food you brought him, and you can't help but notice how buff he has gotten since the last time you saw him. he was probably well built before too, but you've never seen that man in anything other than oversized t-shirts and hoodies. right now, he is wearing one of those compressive exercise sleeveless tops, every bump and curve visible on his toned body. you notice how big his arms are, and just how tall he is.
you feel familiar warmth between your legs, and you have to sit down to stop any funny business. he is speaking, but all you can do is stare at the way his hands are handling the drinks. his hands are much bigger in comparison to wooyoung, and his physique overall is making you melt right there on his couch.
"so? sound good?"
you look up, pupils dilated and cheeks warm and red. he is confused by your sudden change in expression, before he realizes that you weren't even listening. he sighs, giving up on the weekend trip proposal.
"what is it with you?" the man hands you a glass of apple juice, along with a granola bar he knows you love to steal from his cupboard.
"nothing, why?" you reply too quickly.
he laughs, mixed confusion and amusement. he sits next to you, leaving a little space in between. the way he drops his head back on the backrest and manspreads isn't helping your situation. wooyoung has opened a door that cannot be closed anymore.
fuck, wooyoung.
"you know, i thought i was gonna die. my headache was so bad i heard thumping inside it."
"does it hurt now?"
"not really, no. but i do think i still have a little fever. can you check?"
you lean over on your knees, fingers gently moving his hair out of the way. upon reaching over for the thermometer from the coffee table, you slip between the couch cushions, making yunho jolt and grab your waist. you have to close your eyes for a moment, sensory overload getting the worst of you. your clothes suddenly feel so tight and itchy, his breathing is loud and right there in your ears, and his hands are burning on your skin over the fabric of your top.
"watch it, little one," he says.
you know he means the nickname as a sign of fondness towards you, but in the situation where you're acting like an animal in heat, it is doing wonders to you. knowing that he is big, much bigger than you, and calling you that is making your stomach boil.
you want to make a move. no matter how wrong it would be. you want to lean in and kiss him, make him feel you up and down, make him touch you right here on the couch, where you cuddled and watched movies since knowing each other.
"why are you looking at me like that?" his voice is suddenly raspy.
"like what?" you whisper, afraid of your infamous cracking tone.
"like you want to fuck me."
not far from truth. not exactly fuck, rather just have a little fun to get some heat out of you. his hands never leave your waist, instead pulling your body into his lap. you've been in this position many times, mainly being tickled and begging for mercy. now? you're ready to beg for his tongue on you.
"i-"
a familiar ringtone interrupts you, and you feel him tense up underneath.
"pick it up." he says, lazily looking at you through half closed eyelids.
"uh, yes," you stutter, reaching towards the table to grab your phone.
you almost faint seeing the name on your screen. you don't want to pick up. not now. any other time, yes. but right now? not quite convenient.
"go on, answer it." yunho encourages, not knowing the consequences of his action.
but you do it anyway. what is there to lose? lose yunho, gain wooyoung. and vice versa. how fucking evil of you. acting like a bitch in heat, listening to your pussy instead of your morals.
"yes?" you answer, breath hitching when yunho starts caressing your sides.
"hi, angel."
yunho's touching stops. he is now focused on the male voice coming from your phone, the name of the contact not visible from your hair.
"let me see you tonight? i'll take you out for a ride and a dinner."
"tonight?"
"yes. unless you have plans? i just got my motorcycle back from the auto mechanic, thought i'd show you there's thrilling stuff other than an orgasm denial in a public space."
yunho removes his hands completely from you, but lets you sit on his lap. you witness his face morph from flirty to mixed anger and disappointment, though he is trying very hard to hide it. the red tips of his ears are a dead giveaway, and you wish you could feel guilty.
"i have no plans. the ride sounds nice."
"good girl. i'll pick you up same place i dropped you off the other day, six o'clock?"
"sound good."
"good. i'll see you in around two hours then?"
"yes."
"chatty as usual, i see. i'll get you to talk tonight, no worries."
and with that, he hangs up. it is only then that yunho sits you on the couch next to him, while he stands up. you are numb to his reaction, excitement boiling in your veins in anticipation for tonight.
"do you enjoy hurting me?"
he shoots the first arrow through your heart.
"do you love seeing me suffer? do you enjoy bringing me to tears almost every time we meet?"
you have just uncovered something that has been cooking for a long time, and you know you are at fault. you just fail to feel wrong for it.
"it was fine at the beginning, you showed no signs of interest whatsoever. but now? the last month or two? you are driving me fucking insane."
when yunho starts swearing, you now it is bad.
"and to think that i'd actually have a chance. that you'd open yourself up for me so i can prove to you how well i can treat you. i deserve a global idiot award."
you don't speak. you let him rant, knowing that he would only get worked up more if you spoke. none of the things you had to say were comforting, so being silent was the better option.
"get the fuck out of my house."
it is the first time you see him so angry and aggressive. with full right. so you silently take your belongings, turning your back on him without a proper goodbye.
"and take this with you. i don't need anything from you." he shoves the box you had brought him into your hands.
he looks at you, teary eyed, fighting hard to keep them from spilling. you've never seen yunho cry. ever. of joy? yes. but almost shaking while holding back tears and biting his lips to keep them from quivering? perhaps it's just anger and frustration. either way, you fucked him up. and there's nothing you can do, other than leave him be.
"i hate you."
six o'clock rolls around quite quickly. you stand in front of a motorcycle, quite bigger than you imagined. wooyoung takes his helmet off, then steps off the motorcycle. he examines you, from head to toe, a little puzzled.
"skirt? odd choice, considering that i told you we were using a motorcycle."
wooyoung then pushes your hair back, removing it from your face and letting it fall on your back. he puts the helmet on you, a slight smile on his lips as he secures it.
"you're so fucking cute it hurts. look at you in your skirt and ballerinas."
your cheeks burn from his compliments, your thighs rubbing under the delicate material. wooyoung plays with the ends of the skirt, then slips his hands on your bare skin.
"want to sit at front?" he purrs, gaze gentle and lips turned into a fond smile.
"i actually never... well, this is my first time seeing it up so close."
"so i'm your first motorcycle too? i feel honoured."
"I don't really know how to... you know, anything."
whenever you're around him, your vocabulary becomes very limited and poor. for someone who reads so much, you're struggling quite good with putting together simple sentences.
"your only job is to sit still and be pretty for me. got it?" he cups your face with one hand and gently caresses your jaw with his thumb.
you nod, not trusting yourself with speaking while he touches you in such ways.
"come on now. hop on."
you are sat in front of him, hands trapped under his while gripping the handles. you are stiff, and even if he notices, he doesn't react. he starts off slow, enough to not scare you off immediately. at one point, right at the last traffic light before exiting the city centre, he speeds up, the front of the motorcycle hanging in the air for a split second, but enough to make you gasp and fall back against his chest. you hear him chuckle near your helmet, his hand coming to rest on your hip enough to comfort you.
"i got you," he says, squeezing your hip.
you now lay comfortably against him, enjoying the smooth ride on the highway. you are alone on the road, the opposite direction crowded due to people returning home from work. you haven't felt such thrill ever. the way wooyoung controls the vehicle and smoothly changes lanes, to the way he speeds up and does the wheelie again, this time a little higher, is making you see stars. you scream, but the playful way. adrenaline rushes through your veins, and you are laughing, having the most fun of your life. he isn't saying much, and even if he was, you don't hear him. you feel comfortable in his embrace, trusting him with your life on this silent road lit by neon lights on the fences.
you gasp when you feel his cold fingers on your thigh, the texture odd. you look down, only to see that his other hand has a leather glove on, and is slowly dipping between your legs. he slows down, enough to pay more attention to you without any danger nearby. the cold leather touches your folds near your panties that have slightly moved from the reckless driving. he realises the advantage, and proceeds to rip apart the fabric. you moan at the action, remembering all those worn out pages of your books describing men ripping women's bras and panties. and now, you're a character in that page, hopefully about to have an orgasm of your lifetime.
the cold leather touches you once again, a single finger toying with your soft bud, just enough to have you panting. your head falls on his shoulder, searching for support. he circles your clit, playing with the soft flesh and checking just how wet you are getting.
"want me to stop?" he asks, and when you shake your head, he dips his fingers below your clit.
you flinch at the unfamiliar feeling, not feeling the pleasure anymore. he notices, but tries to enter once again, this time more gentle and slow. you flinch again, your head no longer resting on his shoulder. he removes his hand, gripping the handle again as he slows the vehicle. he stops at the nearby platform, the neon fence lights shining on the stone table and two benches. he gets off the motorcycle, then helps you off too. your ripped panties hit the floor, your folds caressed by the highway breeze. he takes his helmet off, hanging it on one of the handles, then helps you with yours.
you are suddenly hyperaware of the situation you are in. far from the city and people, alone in the dark with still a complete stranger, with nothing but a top and a skirt on. nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. nobody to call.
"shit, hey." wooyoung cups your face, seeing sudden anxiety on it. "do you want me to drive you back?"
you take a moment to think. if he really meant evil, wouldn't he do something by now? he wouldn't comfort you, right? wouldn't offer you a ride back? or is this just a little foreplay for him before he does something to you and leaves you to rot here?
"i mean it," the man caresses your cheeks with his thumbs.
"no, i'm good. i think."
"i am not doing anything until i am sure of it."
"no, no, i really am. i just..." you trail, looking around, "...i am very new to all of this, that's all."
wooyoung takes both of your hands, guiding you towards the stone benches and table. he sits you on the table, and he sits on the bench in front of you. he doesn't break eye-contact with you as he rubs your thighs, slightly squishing the flesh for your comfort and for his pleasure. he doesn't go further though. he gives you time to relax, until your feet start slightly swinging off the table from boredom.
"tell me about yourself."
"like what?"
"anything. just talk. i want to hear you speak. you don't do much of it, and you have such a pretty voice, especially when you make those little moans."
your cheeks are burning, and you can only look down at your hands playing with the hem of your skirt.
"come on, tell me. what do you do except studying and riding pillows these days?"
you want to say that you don't ride pillows, but the playful smile on his lips is too sweet to ruin it.
"i read, like, a lot."
"what genre is your favorite?" the man's voice is now low and raspy, his hands now slowly sliding underneath your knees.
"take a wild guess?"
"erotica?" he laughs.
you laugh with him, not yet aware of his little plan and the reason he brought you to a place far from people.
"well, tell me. what did you learn from it?"
it's like a switch was found on you. wooyoung is taking in every word you are so excitedly giving him, every expression you make as you remember various paragraphs that had you touching yourself late at night, or sometimes in the middle of the day at most random places.
"no way, you touched yourself in your college bathroom?" he is in disbelief.
"believe it or not, it becomes stronger than me. so, yes. multiple times, actually."
"what exactly did you do?" wooyoung asks, genuinely interested.
you have passed the shame barrier. the way he is caressing your skin and so comfortably talking to you about these things have you finally dropping your walls down. not even your friends have made it this far into the conversation without a smart remark or a grimace.
"just, rubbing myself, i guess? ah, i once used a water bottle to do it. it was so hot that day, and my bottle was wet and cold, and my brain just clicked."
wooyoung seems impressed, nodding his head with approval.
"i might have touched myself a little in the last row of the classroom."
"oh?" he is intrigued, mind already picturing you hidden in the last row behind your studying laptop, faking the writing while your other hand played with his new favorite thing in the world. "like this?"
the sudden contact with your clit makes you jolt, a gasp escaping your lips. he spins it in slow circles, much like you in that boring class. you breathe slowly, mouth already running dry from the sight in front of you. wooyoung stares deep into your eyes, tongue wetting his lips, and his hair messy from the highway wind. he looks incredibly good in his leather jacket and the chain necklace. you can hear yourself becoming wet, noises making both of you breathe shallow and feeding your lust drive. you feel exposed under the neon lights, under wooyoung's stare, on the side of the road. yet the pleasure is overpowering everything, and you find yourself shamelessly grinding your hips against his thumb. his confidence is affecting yours, and seeing him not give a single fuck about the location or the passerbies, it is unleashing something inside of you.
"fuck, angel, even your cunt sounds so cute."
you give yourself a moment of bravery, fingers hooking under his chain necklace and pulling his body towards you. your lips touch his, warm plush making your thighs clench. he chuckles against you, then leaves a few pecks on your bottom lip. he tugs it between his teeth, gently biting it and swiping his tongue on it. you give yourself to him, completely at his control, and only follow what he does.
he removes his hand from you, resulting in a whine leaving your mouth. he laughs again, pulling away for a moment.
"patience, baby. you're doing very good."
he kisses you again, his hands snaking around your waist and under your top. he feels your skin, the lace of your bra, plays with the hook, but doesn't undo it yet. he grazes your spine with his trimmed nails, giving you goosebumps. you shiver in his hands, wanting nothing more but to relax in his hands and have him do that to you all night long.
his tongue is restless against yours, gently rubbing against it, teeth accidentally clashing from the passion getting the most out of him. he wants all of you, right here, right now. but he can't have you just yet. like he said, he would destroy you. he can't hold back that much. he almost melts when he feels your fingers gently tug at his hair, your other hand subconsciously resting on his chest. he thinks it's cute how you are at a position above him and higher than him, yet he still has all the control over you. he also thinks it's cute how your legs are still swinging from the stone table, while you kiss him back and try to keep up with him. your kisses are short, your tongue soft, and your hair is tickling his cheeks, a complete opposite of his deep and long kisses, with an occasional teasing bite.
"wooyoung," you mumble, pulling away.
he hums, waiting for you to respond. you rest your forehead against his, taking a moment to breathe normally again.
"i want to cum on your tongue, please?" you ask so sweetly, big eyes staring into his.
"i had something else in mind, though. but i'll see what i can do, since you asked me so nicely."
he isn't sure how he can feel so soft and so hard for someone. you are the first one that is actually taking his time with him and listening to him to make it all more enjoyable. the rest of them wanted it quick, and frequent. he prefers it this way now, with more lust building up, and he knows the result will pay off. maybe you are growing impatient, maybe you'd just smack him right there on the spot, but he is very fixed on his idea, and he loves that you are listening him so patiently.
"lay down for me."
you lay on the cold surface, elbows digging into the uneven stone while they support your upper body so you can look at him. your breath hitches when his hand slides up your body, between your breasts, and up to your lips.
"open up."
and you do, taking his two fingers into your mouth. you swirl your tongue around them, slow, maintaining eye-contact with him. you are pretty sure you're dripping all over the table now, if not all over his pants too. he toys with your tongue for a while, too immersed in the way you're licking him up.
fuck, how good you'd take his cock. he'd push so slow between your glossy lips, which he would coat with his precum, and he would gently test your limits and have you gagging around him. wooyoung stops the train of thoughts before it was too late, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth. he then runs them up and down your slit, toying with the folds more than the clit. you want to groan from frustration, but you have to be patient, just like he said.
he spreads your folds, tongue diving right into the tip of your clit. your fingers reach into his hair, pulling at the dark strands and burying his head deeper into your cunt. he is loving every bit of it, willingly pushing himself deeper between your thighs and squishing them around his head. you hear him suck and lick, setting your heart on fire, and making your blood boil.
"wooyoung-" you gasp, clit abused by his restless muscle.
he only hums against you, lips sucking you slowly but with power. you don't know how loud you are, nor do you care. you let your voice loose, calling out his name, whining, bucking your hips into his mouth, moaning and chasing the orgasm that has already started to pool at the bottom of your stomach.
his fingers let go of your folds, instead focusing on a new place. he toys with your entrance, sending weird sensations through your body. ever so slowly, he pushes one finger inside, making you hold your breath at the uncomfortable feeling.
"that hurts-" you whine, all the pleasure gone.
"you can take it, right? for me?"
you look down at his eyes, the neon lights shining inside them.
"watch," he mumbles, nodding his head towards your drenched pussy.
you do as told, watching as his finger disappears into you, each pump a little less uncomfortable. he curls his finger upwards, unlocking a whole new sensation for you. you moan, more at the sight than the feeling. something about his veiny hand working on you and disappearing so smoothly inside of you is more arousing to you than a whole movie sex scene.
"i'm adding another one, alright?"
you gulp, then nod. you watch him carefully insert two fingers, slowly stretching you out. inch by inch, he fully inserts them, all the way to the knuckles, and stays there for a while.
"atta girl." he says, tone low and raspy, dripping with desire.
"it's too much," you whine, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.
"just a little more, angel. i promise, it'll feel good." he coos, cupping your jaw with his other hand and caressing your cheek. "can you do that for me?"
you nod, fighting hard to push the tears back. the last thing you want is to turn out a coward, after all those erotica books you've told him about. reading about all that monster porn, fairy porn, and whatnot, yet you can't take two human fingers. pathetic.
"look at you, taking me so well." he praises, moving his fingers at a faster pace now.
you feel your hole stretching for the first time, and you are not sure if the sensation you are feeling is enough to make you cum. you stay still, watching him work on you, and focusing on relaxing your muscles around him. he curls his fingers up again, and another moan escapes your lips. he leans in, just enough to feel you breathe into his mouth. proper moans finally leave your mouth, and you leave all the gasps and shallow breathing behind. you shamelessly moan into his mouth, hands gripping anything they can; from his clothes and chain, to his hair and shoulders. you rock your hips along with his pumps, finally finding a path towards the sweet release. but wooyoung shows no intention of speeding up, even though you tried taking the matter into your own hands. you feel like spilling over any moment now, but the way he switches between slow and slower is driving you crazy.
"shit," he curses, suddenly pulling your body into his lap.
you moan when you sit on his fingers, knuckles trapped deep in your hole. you don't have time to process what is happening, a bright light shining into wooyoung's eyes and your back.
another motorcycle stops beside his, two people your age getting off of it.
"hey, what's up?" the stranger greets, politely waving.
the girl doesn't spare you a glance, but instead opts to stare at wooyoung.
"we're just gonna take a five minute break, sorry to bother you guys." the young man explains.
"that's fine," wooyoung smiles back.
the stranger then leaves behind one of the trees, and the girl takes a seat on the opposite of you two.
"aren't you, like, jung wooyoung?" her voice is pure torture, squeaky and fake.
"uh, yes."
"you have an enormous dick, babe. fuck, i masturbate to you almost every night."
your heart clenches, but apparently, so does your pussy, because wooyoung is quick to give you another stretch of his fingers inside you. you bite your lip, head falling on his shoulder. your back is turned towards the girl, so you cannot see if she is doing anything to get wooyoung's attention away from you. you don't like it.
"glad you enjoy my content," he replies calmly, as if he gets that every day.
maybe he does. and just then, you remember what wooyoung is. he is a cam boy, a porn star. he isn't a guy who took you on a date outside of the city. he is just someone who got tired of fucking experienced people and wants to try something new. you bite the inside of your cheek, tears gathering in your eyes now for a whole different reason.
it's his fault that he's so nice to you. didn't he say he would destroy you? you have developed a crush on him, and you didn't even realize. you need to back off, as soon as possible, before you become one of his toys for views. and with his sweet talk, it could happen without you even processing it first.
"do you do those live fuck invites anymore? i'd love to be your guest sometimes. maybe you know me, i was at top five performers last month?"
"ah, rosiedesires?" he is quick to answer.
his fingers slowly move, and you have to bury your head into his neck to keep yourself from making any noise. he smells heavenly, the scent of musk making you a little dizzy. you don't realize you are panting and whining, until he leans down to your ear.
"be good." he whispers with a little stern tone, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and leaving a quick peck there. if his fingers weren't up your pussy right now, you would've felt butterflies.
you don't know if he is mad at you, or if it's just a part of his play. either way, as bad as you are feeling, you don't want him to stop. you want him to make you cum, so that you can leave and cut all communication with him. you'll manage on your own without him, and there's still yunho. well, was. but knowing his feelings for you, he'll be quick to make up with you.
"friday night sound good?"
"yes, of course. perfect! can't wait, our followers are gonna be so excited."
did he just make a dick appointment while his fingers are deep inside of you? while you are holding back tears on his shoulder? while you are almost biting off the inside of your cheek?
"but wait, i don't do taken people. is that your partner or something?"
"ah no, that's just my coworker. he drives me home every night, we live in the same building. and uh, that..." she trails, probably pointing at you, "...is not your girlfriend?"
"no, no, of course not. she's also someone i've met on the site."
someone i've met on the site.
of course, what else did you think? that he was also falling in love with you? how stupid. now you know how yunho felt. you know exactly how he felt, when you made him feel dumb for having a one sided love. though, this isn't love yet, but still.
"shy, i see. hello, do you speak?"
the way she is talking to you is making you feel humiliated and small. as if you're an alien, asking if you speak.
"whore." you mumble.
"what?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.
you finally raise your head, cheeks puffed and eyes red. wooyoung finally sees how bad he fucked up, and his heart breaks a little at the sight.
maybe it was just the sexual frustration. maybe it was the anger. maybe the disappointment. or maybe just the way she chewed that gum and looked at you like you were a piece of shit on the side of the road. whatever it was, it gave you enough of confidence to repeat yourself.
"whore."
"you stupid bitch," she scoffs, and you almost laugh when you see red lipstick smeared on her teeth as she calls you more names.
"openly talking about fucking a random guy and then getting offended by a single word? fucking weirdo." the words are quicker than your mind, and you feel wooyoung's fingers leaving you and instead gripping your waist.
"listen here, you fucking prude, i will fuck you up-"
"alright, let's take you home." wooyoung interrupts. "rosie, i'll reach out to you these days."
"sure thing, baby."
not so gentle anymore, wooyoung hands you the helmet. the change in his behaviour in front of a different woman is baffling to you. you feel like throwing up, and dropping right there in the middle of the road. anger is building up inside of you, enough for you to push the helmet back into his hands.
"put that on." he orders, brows knitted.
"no." you spit out.
"i will not repeat myself." his tone lowers, yet his gaze darkens.
"you don't have to." you strike back, not aware of the consequences building up.
"do you want to fucking hurt yourself? put this on right now, before i put it on for you."
fear creeps into your body, slow, and grows more with each second that passes and his gaze stays on you. you gulp, suddenly finding yourself in a mental conflict. you do not want to go with him. you want to stay here, curl up under the table and cry until morning, and mourn that little hope you had left and that he crushed. yet he is your only way home. but it is such a long drive, and you don't have the energy to be near him.
so you turn your back, and start walking towards the city lights.
"and just what do you think you are doing?" wooyoung grabs your elbow, pulling your body against his.
"leave me be."
"i asked, what do you think you are doing?" he asks again, gaze not softening.
"i am going home."
"you're-"
"jung wooyoung," you say through gritted teeth," i. am. going. home."
and with that, you start your way to the distant skyscrapers. it hurts you that only two minutes after, two motorcycles pass by you, one of them very familiar. he only spares you a glance through the mirror, then speeds up and disappears.
finally, you cry. loud sobs, chest heavy and body shaking. you drag your legs for what seems like hours, yet the buildings remained the same. you pull out your phone, searching through contacts. nobody is close enough with you for you to call them and pick you up. except your only fast dial, yunho.
what is there to lose? you've reached the bottom anyways.
it takes only two rings for him to pick up, and you fail to greet him. instead, a sob leaves your mouth.
"tiny?" he calls, voice concerned.
"can you please come get me?"
to say that yunho was furious would be an understatement. you haven't told him anything yet, but it was enough to find you sitting alone on a bench outside of the city, on a road where prostitutes and dealers often met, with ripped panties laying on the floor.
his heart is tight, and he feels his throat closing as he approaches you. dark lines decorate your puffed cheeks, the makeup you always so happily put on now a fluid disaster. you run into yunho's arms, finally warm and secure. he buries his noise into your hair, leaving kisses on top of your head as he rubs your back. he knows what to do when you're upset, and you are grateful for that. you need silent support, no questions, no getting you to talk, just someone's presence and comfort. you finally look into his eyes, and just when you thought you cried it all out, you start sobbing again.
"it's okay." he assures you, cupping your face.
"can i stay-" you hiccup, your lungs having a hard time to balance breathing and speaking, "can i-"
you sob again, frustrated because you can't form a sentence. you feel like ripping your hair out because of your stupidity.
"you can stay at my place," yunho understands, gently guiding you towards his car and opening the back door for you.
"no, no-"
"there's more space for you to lay down. trust me, you'll be comfortable."
"i want the front."
"but-"
"please."
yunho doesn't immediately drive to his place. he drives past the highway exits for the city, and you are too tired to question it. you fight to stay awake, but the burning sensation of your eyes is making it quite difficult. every now and then, yunho glances at you, making sure you're alright and comfortable. you have your seat pushed back, and your body turned towards him. it makes you feel safer when you open your eyes and see him in front of you.
the lights are fading, allowing the moonlight to take over and illuminate yunho's face. has he always been this pretty?
you're skipping classes, opting to stay in yunho's bed instead. you're rotting in his room, only watching him come and go. he has a job, and classes to attend, and by the time he finally gets home, you are fast asleep. the food he so carefully prepares you stays cold on the counter, flies getting to it before you do. it is making him sad, seeing you in such a state. you didn't speak of that night, and he didn't want to ask in case you go further into your shell.
today was no different. you are awoken by his alarm, then him tossing and turning on his side. he is careful to leave a distance between you two, even when he is asleep. you feel the warmth leave the space behind your back, then hear footsteps. you hear shuffling, and you open your eyes to see what he is wearing today.
he wears a plain white t-shirt, black ripped jeans, and a leather jacket. the weather is still confusing, and you are glad you don't have to tell him to bring a jacket with him. he also wears his signature boots, sitting on your side of the bed as he puts them on.
"yuyu?" you call.
"yes, sweetheart?"
"when are you coming home today?"
he stays silent. you think he doesn't hear you, so you repeat. yunho sighs.
"i don't have classes today. and i have a day off."
"oh," is all you can say. you aren't sure if it's a sound of disappointment or surprise. either way, you are not thrilled.
"i'll be back in a few hours."
he doesn't look at you. instead, he stands up, picking up his bag and house keys. you finally sit up straight, blanket still wrapped around you.
"where-" you clear your throat, voice coming out raspy and cracking, "-where are you going?"
"a date."
yunho finally spares you a glance, one enough to let you know that he grew tired of you playing with his emotions, and is tired catering to you when all of his efforts have gone to waste.
"there's food in the fridge if you get hungry. i'm having breakfast outside."
then there you are, again in the dark room, alone with your thoughts. you think about both of them. yunho, who has been by your side for so long, and has respected your boundaries despite his strong feelings. and wooyoung, who is there just a few weeks, yet has such a strong impact on you. you feel discarded by both sides. yunho? justified. wooyoung? not as much.
yes, he is just a porn star. yes, you may be delusional. and yes, he might fuck other people. but the urge in you to feel him just one more time, to let him teach you so you can be good enough for someone you truly care about, is burning inside of you.
bullshit. you want to be good enough for him. you have always been way more intrigued by things you cannot have. wooyoung is an unattainable goal, something you can only dream of having. then again, what do you actually want with him? you only know him sexually, you know nothing about him as a person. you only crave him physically, while you crave yunho emotionally.
but you can't have both, and the way the tables have turned, you are left with neither.
the day is slow, and the sun is going down with the tiktoks on your phone screen. when you feel your stomach tighten and growl, you finally glance at the room around you. it is dark, it smells like old clothes, and the lack of fresh air starts suffocating you. yunho's washed, unironed work clothes sit on his gaming chair, waiting to be ironed by him. it would have been done long time ago, if you didn't take up his whole room.
you switch between the apps, from tiktoks to reels, to youtube shorts, then back to reels. you've seen every video possible, not a single one funny anymore. you feel numb. your stomach is giving you signals, which you so successfully ignore. much like your bladder. it is hitting your ovaries, causing indescribable pain, yet you choose to lay there and mourn over your will to live. you return to the instagram homepage, and when you see yunho's icon in the stories, you just have to click it. when you do, you see him posing with a young woman your age, at the breakfast place you used to visit the first year of college. he has ordered his usual, you notice. and she has ordered yours.
he looks genuinely happy, his smile wide, and his eyes squinted. his arm is wrapped around her shoulders, and the other one holds the phone taking the picture. she is busy holding his face in her hand, lightly squishing his cheeks, just like you like to do.
"fuck me." you groan, then shut your phone off.
as if a switch has clicked inside of you, you run to the bathroom, eager to end your suffering. it takes you less than half an hour to take a shower, put on clean clothes, and do the basic skin care you have ignored for a few days now. you use yunho's expensive products, of course. he won't mind as long as he doesn't know you used them.
by the time the sun sets, the room looks brand new. you have put on new sheets, dusted the shelves, vacuumed the floor, and even ironed his clothes and neatly put them in the closet. the messy notes on his desk were now waiting for him in the drawer, with an attached pink note from you of the solution to the math problem he has been trying to solve on four pages now.
in the kitchen, you fish for ingredients. you decide to make his favorite for when he comes home, to at least thank him somehow for giving you comfort and support these days.
what time do you think you are coming?
yunho: around half an hour to an hour, i think. why?
i am making dinner, i didn't want to start early so it doesn't get cold.
you see the three dots on his screen popping up a few times, then disappearing. you set the phone aside, focusing on the garlic and onion in the pan so they don't get burnt. he loves your pasta bolognese, and won't eat it anywhere but from you. special flavor, he says. you don't have the heart to tell him that you just add in one more spice that the restaurants don't. you don't want to break the little tradition of you making pasta late at night for the two of you.
your phone pings, twice.
wooyoung has started a live! tap to watch.
yunho: i'm not coming for dinner. sorry x
and it's all it takes. really, that's all.
it takes less than five minutes for you to shut off the stove, then settle in the freshly made bed, yunho's boxers already pooling at your ankles. you realize how pathetic you look, getting ready to touch yourself to a guy that left you on the side of the road, in your best friend's bed. but to be fair, you were stubborn too. maybe you just didn't expect him to let you go so easily. maybe you expected him to stay back and comfort you, say sorry because of his harsh actions. or at least reach out to you afterwards. but no, jung wooyoung kept his distance. you checked the messages, regularly. not even an online tag from him. nothing.
until now.
wooyoung has started a live with rosiedairies! tap to watch.
your stomach tightens. is it friday already? time for that dick appointment. your finger hovers over the notificaton, mind working hard to figure out whether or not you can handle looking at something like that. you convince yourself that you can. it's just sex. it's not like you've never seen it before.
your finger taps the notification, and your screen take up two naked bodies, already going at it. it isn't hot at all. you could swear that all your arousal has dried up within two seconds.
wooyoung has the camera showing her face as she stays in doggy position and only his lower body is visible behind her, hips snapping harshly into hers. it doesn't look real. it look so staged and fake, ugly and raw. but she seems to love it, judging by the way her eyes roll to the back of her head and the noises overpowering the ones of skin clapping. wooyoung pulls her hair, and even though you've fantasized about that too, it isn't quite like this. all that hair pulling in your fanfics and books was indeed harsh, but still with a note of passion and love. this? this was pure pain.
"harder, harder-" she chokes, seductively looking at the camera.
what she asks, wooyoung delivers. the grip on her waist makes her skin white, likely to leave bruises afterwards. he picks up the camera, angling it on her bottom and his pelvis. the sight isn't a turn on for you, but you notice the condom, the bruises on her skin, and the scratch marks on his body. the people in the comment section are going feral, giving him orders on what to do to her, on what they'd like to do to him, and sending lots of money. you're grossed out, and just when you are about to exit the site, you hear the front door shut.
you pull the boxers up, jumping out of the bed and making it. you lock your phone, throwing it on the nightstand, before rushing to the bathroom and shutting the door. you hear footsteps, and not double ones like you expected. you fix your hair in the mirror, trying for that i woke up like this look.
"it's me," he announces while entering the room.
"back already?"
"wow."
you fail to hide the smile because of his reaction. he was probably expecting to find you laying under a blanket with your phone on full volume, like he did for the past few days. you didn't even take care of yourself, let alone help him with chores. you wanted to redeem yourself, at least a little bit.
you exit the bathroom as nonchalantly as you can, as if you didn't just do a 180° in the time he was out. he looks even more dashing than when he left. his hair is messy and skin glowing, and his lips have that red tint that suits him so well.
"how was your date?"
"it was great," he avoids your gaze while scratching his neck, "we're going on a second one sunday evening. making it fancy this time."
"that's so awesome! i'm happy for you."
your acting is so convincing, it has yunho feeling disappointed with your behaviour. sure, you wouldn't be jealous. but wouldn't you be bothered at least a little bit? a random girl entering your lives and taking up his free time instead of you, and you are happy?
"what do you say we go out for breakfast tomorrow, and i'll tell you everything?" he tests the grounds.
"sounds wonderful." you don't drop your guard.
you forget that yunho doesn't know the actual situation with wooyoung. so when he stops in front of the coffee shop the next morning and holds the door open for you, you rather enter than make a fuss out of it. you slide into your usual seat, letting yunho take the orders. the familiar man exits the pantry, smile dropping when he sees his next costumer. he immediately searches for your figure in the seating area, and upon finding you, he fails to hide a smile. you, on the other hand, don't. you stand your ground, poker face on and emotions on standby. for now.
"iced americano and a strawberry mocha?"
"yes," yunho confirms, "extra-"
"extra syrup, whipped cream, pearls. got it."
yunho looks annoyed, but doesn't say anything. he almost throws the money at wooyoung, tells him to keep the change, then joins you at the table.
you finally take a good look at him. each day, he is getting more attractive in your eyes. did he always dress this handsomely? was he always this tall?
"you like my coat?" he laughs, noticing your stare.
"well, yes. suits you. the turtleneck too. when did you get a fashion sense?"
"i've got to attract the ladies somehow." yunho jokes, then becomes serious once he sees wooyoung approaching with the beverages.
the cup is placed in front of you, and right away, you see a difference. knowing that you'll let it slide, yunho decides to speak for you.
"pearl sprinkles. not this rainbow puke."
"i only have rainbow puke." wooyoung scoffs, throwing the paper straws on the table. "drink it, or don't. i don't care."
"you should've told me that when i ordered." yunho keeps pushing, and the tension between the two is making you squirm in the chair.
"well guess what?" wooyoung leans in, one hand on the table, the other on the back of your chair. his face is inches away from yours, eyes fixed on your widened ones.
"get away from her, that's highly unprofessional."
"if she minded, she would've said something," the barista looks over at yunho for a split second, then returns his gaze on you, "but she doesn't mind, do you, darling?"
stuck between not wanting to hurt yunho, and wanting to subconsciously submit to wooyoung, you remain silent. wooyoung stays in the position for what seemed like hours, even though it was mere three seconds of it, then finally takes his position behind the counter.
"right, forgot he's your new boyfriend," the man on your opposite scoffs and takes a sip of his beverage.
"he's not-"
"kiyomi will be here any minute, by the way. can't wait for you to meet her."
"woah, is she okay with meeting me so soon? i mean, your first date was yesterday?"
he shrugs, glancing at his phone, "i don't see why not. you're just a friend. it's not like you're a relative or someone closer."
ouch.
"right," you clear your throat.
as promised, she arrives, breaking the silence and interrupting yunho's twitter scrolling. she's pretty, just like on the picture. the moment she sits next to him and starts talking, you see she is obsessed with him. she is joyful, talkative, optimistic, everything that you currently aren't. you notice wooyoung looking over multiple times, but what you don't notice is the way yunho is examining your face, looking for any clues of jealousy or discomfort.
you seem unaffected, and it makes his heart ache. just what does he have to do to get to you? getting a girl just to experiment didn't work, and now he has to either let the poor girl go or keep fueling her hopes and leave her later, until he gets a reaction from you. yumho hates himself for doing that. but yunho hates you too, as much as he loves you. you break his heart every day, but every time you look at him, you put it back together so easily. he wants to kiss you, as much as he wants to push you away from himself. he is lost in his own emotions, and doesn't know what he wants anymore.
"excuse me, i'll be right back."
"where are you going?" yunho betrays himself, asking you too quickly.
"toilet. wanna come?" you try to lighten the situation with a joke, seeing his date tense up at his reaction.
"ah no, thanks. gross. you go enjoy yourself. don't fall in." he joins in the joke, also taking notice of his partner's body language.
you enter the toilet, ignoring the cash register where wooyoung has busied himself with typing something on the screen. the you in the mirror looks like she is mocking you, your clothes and your behaviour. you've put on the newest dress you had, and you don't even know for who. both of them? you like yunho's soft lingering gaze on you, yet you enjoy the way wooyoung looks a second away from devouring you on that table. it's a simple long sleeved dress, really, paired with knee-high boots yunho had bought you for christmas.
the door swings open, bumping into you and pushing you against the wall. you only catch a glimpse of the familiar apron, before the man cups your face and presses his lips on yours. you are taken aback, body frozen against the cold tiles. wooyoung holds your face gently, lips moving slow as to not scare you off more.
"i'm sorry, i'm so fucking sorry," he whispers against your lips, pecking them a few times before apologizing again.
"wooyoung-"
"please, let me make it up to you. i don't care what that cunt outside says, i don't believe him anyway, just let me make it up to you."
you're having a hard time thinking rationally. do you really trust him enough to not hurt you again? fuck, but his lips feel so good. but oh, how yunho's hugs feel like home.
but nobody has ever shown desire the way wooyoung does.
yet nobody has more patience for you than yunho.
"you're thinking too much. let me fix that."
your lips are trapped by his once again, this time more rhythmic. you give into the touch, erasing the man outside completely from your mind.
"you're so sweet."
you hum against his lips, hands tugging at his white ironed shirt, the first two buttons separated as always.
"so cute." kiss. "so pretty." kiss. "so adorable." kiss. "so perfect."
you're not sure where it is going, but you do not complain. you do not complain when he lifts you on the counter near the sink either, flipping your dress up and ripping your panties again. you feel your core tighten, and you think you'll just never get enough of the picture of him ripping your clothes apart.
"let me make you melt on my tongue. please, god, I need it. i so desperately need you, all of you."
"here?" you ask, glancing at the door.
"here, out there, in the pantry, at your place, my place, everywhere. i'd take you to the roof if you told me to."
"anyone could walk in-"
you gasp mid sentence, cold metal pressing against your clit. wooyoung intentionally rubs your folds with his knuckles, giving you the cold sensation of his rings. your head rests against the mirror, hips already grinding into his hand.
loosing his patience, wooyoung sinks to his knees, your legs resting over his shoulders. he dives in, like it's his last meal. he licks hot stripes up your clit, pointy part of his tongue flicking the tip of it. you moan each time he does so, feeling your bud already becoming abused.
while he usually takes his time with you, today he is quick to separate your legs and go feral on you. his tongue is quick, so quick that it has you shaking uncontrollably against his mouth. you're shuddering, begging, pulling at his hair, all at once. a blabbering mess, as he eats you like there's no tomorrow. he dips his tongue into your arousal, letting out a moan of satisfaction.
"can i please cum?" you ask, knowing that he never lets you. why would today be different?
"no, no. not yet." he moves away, standing up and getting back to your face. "it needs to be special."
"it's just an orgasm, how special can it be?"
"mine always are, believe me. i want to be your first real one. i want you to remember it." wooyoung says as he continues to caress your cheeks with his thumbs.
the action is affectionate, as if he just confessed to having a crush on you and didn't just eat you out. funny how every time you meet him, you end up getting absolutely devoured by him in ways that you didn't even read about. he is passionate about it, to the point that it makes you think that he does it for his own pleasure.
"come over to my place."
"what?" your voice comes out louder than you wanted it.
"my place. i'll take good care of you. give you what you deserve."
you don't have time to reply, he is pulling you off the sink and disappearing into a stall. a quick glance in the mirror is enough to make your hands shoot up to your hair, straightening it and fixing the smeared mascara on the corner of your eyes.
"hey?"
yunho's head peeks inside, scanning the room. he sees you alone, and immediately feels at ease.
"yes, yunho?"
"i just got worried, you've been here for a while." he admits.
"so you left your date alone?" you can't bear to look him in the eyes, not when you just finished messing with the person he saved you from the other night.
"to be truthful, i saw that shitass barista disappear somewhere, and i thought he came after you. i'd hate to think that something happened to you and i was sitting just outside."
you appreciate his truthfulness, and don't have the heart to tell him just how weak to your instincts you are.
"don't worry, i'm good. let's go."
wooyoung: it's been almost a week
wooyoung: you don't think about me at all?
wooyoung: my offer, i mean. not me.
you don't know if you're being delusional, but you feel like the tables have turned. which is why you have reached out to another friend, one that doesn't have feelings for you and won't try to sabotage, well, whatever this is.
"honestly, from all these messages, you have unknowingly made him chase you. notice how you don't say much and he comes back texting you multiple times?" choi san is quick to explain, using his own flirting skills to decipher the conversation.
he lays on his stomach on your bed, pillow under it and legs swinging in the air. his freshly dyed blonde hair is a dry mess, struggling to hold onto his scalp. you wonder why his job requires him to ruin himself this much.
"now what do i do?"
"well, luckily for you, your lack of communication is what got you an advantage here. let's face it, you're dry as fuck."
"thanks."
"welcome. anyways, in your case, that's good. see? instead of giving up and leaving, he keeps coming back to you. and eating your pussy every time you two meet? are you kidding me? that man is obsessed with you."
at the mention of him eating you, your thighs clench, almost feeling his tongue down there. it is driving you crazy, having so much pleasure yet not reaching the peak. he is torturing you, on purpose.
wooyoung: i'll make you cum so hard you'll never wish for anyone but me
wooyoung: and that's a promise.
two new messages light up your phone, san grabbing it before you can. he covers his mouth, eyes wide as he reads the messages over and over. he unlocks the phone, and begins typing.
"no!"
"i'm doing you a favor!" he exclaims, running around the room and still typing.
you hear the sending sound, and your face heats up. he throws the phone on your bed, and sits right next to you.
"what have you done?"
"see for yourself. that, my dear, is called not being dry."
bold of you to think that i'll only wish for you
"that doesn't sound like me at all! you blew it!"
you are quick to bury your face in a pillow, already mourning all this time you've spent and regretting inviting san to help. but when another notification decorates your screen, you almost jump.
wooyoung: why don't you come over for a demostration?
"you do realize that if you go, you might lose your v-card?"
"i know."
"and you're sure that's the person you want to do it with?"
"yes."
he believes you as much as you believe yourself. you always thought your first time would be somewhere romantic, pre-planned, with the person you love and loves you back. not in the apartment of a porn star. and not with someone that only knows your name.
"you know, my heart really hurts for yunho."
"i invited you to avoid him. why are you bringing him up?" your fierce tone takes him aback, and it takes you aback too, you just manage to not show it.
"wow." san exhales.
"sorry, just- it's none of your business."
"how is it none of my business? i mean, i tried to not get involved, even came here to help you hook up with a complete stranger and help you throw away the best thing that can and will happen to you. i introduced you to yunho, knowing full well on his harmless little crush on you, and knowing full well that you were perfect for him. only to have you-"
"wait a minute, you can't guilt trip me into liking him."
the man in front of you is baffled with your reply, and you feel like you're not looking at one of your close friends anymore. now, you are looking at yunho's best friend, almost his younger brother. you forgot that before you, there was the two of them.
"someone seriously needs to fuck that attitude right out of you. you're acting like an animal in heat."
"well i'm fucking trying to!"
"well you're trying the wrong fucking way!"
"do not tell me who and how to fuck!"
the phone is pinging on your bed, not helping the situation at all. san is looking more disappointed than angry, his eyes becoming scarily dark.
"the fuck do you even know about fucking?"
"i know enough." you don't drop your guard.
san takes a step towards you, examining your face. then another, and another, until you are pushed in the corner of your room with him towering over you. there is nothing attractive about it in this situation, and you wish
"you may know about fucking, but you don't know shit about loving."
"shut up," is the only thing you manage to say, biting back tears.
"i am not guilt tripping you to like or love anyone, but the least you could do is let him down gently and stop playing push and pull with him. giving him hope, then shattering him right after it? not quite moral in my book."
"look, i'm in a difficult situation. i just- i like them both."
choi san laughs, sarcastically. he doesn't find it funny. he just doesn't know how to respond anymore.
"you don't like them both. you like wooyoung, and want to keep yunho as a backup."
"excuse-?"
"save it. i don't even know why i came here, helping you hurt my friend. you have started thinking with your pussy more than your brain, and you're losing people because of it. if you're horny, watch fucking porn."
with that, he grabs his leather jacket off your bed, and storms outside. you are feeling frustrated, angry, and sad. he is right, you know it. but you don't want to admit it. because somehow, in your head, if you don't admit it, it isn't like that. ignoring a problem makes it go away. simple as that.
you want to keep yunho, and his love, and his affection, but you want a taste of wooyoung so bad. so bad that your clit aches when you open his messages, yearning for his cold fingers and hot tongue.
wooyoung: do you like movies?
wooyoung: i thought we could watch the live adaptation of that book you like reading
wooyoung: what was it again?
wooyoung: if you want to, of course
wooyoung has sent a picture! tap to view.
you stop breathing for a moment, thinking of all the things you could expect in that image. you breathe out when you open it, seeing a pullout sofa and a blanket on it, along with snacks and two bottles of soda.
wooyoung: i'd be happy if you joined me :)
why, rosie unavailable?
wooyoung: i'm gonna go ahead and ignore that, for the sake of both of us
whatever that means
why are you the one sabotaging yourself now? yunho isn't here, and san has left too. then why?
wooyoung: it means that i don't like it when people mock what i do
wooyoung: and when people mock me, i become angry
wooyoung: and angry and horny don't go well together
wooyoung: unless you want to put it to test?
wooyoung angry fucking you? you grimace. would it be the kind of sex he did in his last live with that rosie girl? if yes, you are feeling very turned off right now. he must've sensed the lack of replying on your side, and is quick to respond again.
wooyoung: can't help it, sorry
wooyoung: just come over and we can hang?
your phone pings, sending you a message with a different name on top.
choi san: bet his new live will bring him a fortune. who else has taken someone's virginity live on a porn site?
what the fuck are you on about? there's no live.
choi san: that's what you think
choi san: or that's what he'll make you think
choi san: unless he convinces you to willingly do it
he wouldn't. would he? wooyoung who has asked you before each contact whether you're sure, or whether you're feeling nervous. wooyoung who already had his hands on your tits, and still wanted to ask if you're sure. he wouldn't secretly film you. he wouldn't.
what do you consider a hang? and why?
wooyoung: just hang? watch that movie and talk?
wooyoung: because
wooyoung: idk
wooyoung: you're so stiff and awkward yet i wanna know more about you and see you
wooyoung: i guess i want to be the one to unstiff you?
wooyoung: NOT LIKE THAT
wooyoung: i dropped my cool guy vibe just like that
wooyoung: look at me texting you multiple times in a row
wooyoung: i've never ever done that in my life for anyone
wooyoung: so...?
so san was right. you did unintentionally make him chase you. played hard to catch without even knowing it. you have a whole porn star folding for you, and offering you all you ever wanted. or at least you think you wanted.
ping!
yunho: hey just wanted to ask if everything is alright?
yunho: sorry if i somehow hurt you
yunho: you seem a little distant, and i know it might be because of the kiyomi situation, but i promise i care about you so much
yunho: if you want you can come over and we can make that pasta together?
yunho: i also want to talk to you
yunho: properly
it's now or never.
you gonna pick me up or?
you sit in the familiar car, the smell of it relaxing you. he knows how to make scents work and not make them literally bite your nose. you take a good look at him. he wears a simple short sleeved black t-shirt, along with grey ripped jeans and black boots. his hair is a little messy, but it only adds up to his look. every time you see him, you forget just how good he looks.
"angel?"
"wooyoung?"
he laughs, eyes not moving off the road.
"are you okay?"
"yes." you simply reply, shifting your attention to the surrounding houses.
you don't speak the rest of the way, just enjoying his humming and wheel tapping. it isn't uncomfortable silence. at least not for you. you can also hear faint vibrations coming from your phone in your bag, and you know exactly who they belong to.
"whoever that is, they sure are persistent." wooyoung comments.
"sorry. i'll shut it off."
"oh, no. please. i was just noticing."
you finally take the phone out, screen bombarded with his notifications. just when you wanted to clear the notification tab, he calls, and you click the green phone.
"shit."
"hello?"
wooyoung glances at your phone, eyebrows furrowed. he keeps driving, not saying a word.
"hey, yunho, now is not a good time-"
"it never is lately anyway. listen, i will just say what i wanted to like this."
"yunho, no-"
"i love you. i don't even think about the words like or crush anymore, i know, i'm sure, that i love you. and i know you're slipping away from me, and i know there's no way to stop it."
you stare at wooyoung, who is carefully listening to the voice coming from your device. you are shaking, thoughts running wild. you are becoming more aware of your feelings towards yunho, and aware about the situation you are putting yourself in. you are on your way to shatter everything you've ever had with him, and everything you could've had with him. for just a taste of what seemed to only exist in your mind.
"i won't blame you if you go with him. i'm just afraid of you getting hurt, maybe worse than that night. and this time i might not be around to fix it. i do not have the energy anymore. i'm sorry."
san was right about this too, and you hate him for it. all this time you subconsciously kept yunho as a backup. you've convinced yourself that he isn't your type, and you did so good at it. until now.
"i'm not saying you should respond to any of my feelings, but it would've been nice if you came to me and said something along the lines of "sorry yunho, i don't think we will ever be what you want us to be" instead of luring me in and pushing me around. calling me when you need it, then ignore me when you get what you want. i hate that i love you, and i hate that i have to humiliate myself like this every damn time. but i promised myself this would be my last. unless you really wish to discuss all of this properly, and whether or not you want our friendship to continue despite all this. tonight is your last chance. i am speaking to you as a friend now. i want to know where i stand."
you are speechless. he has touched the darkest spot in your heart. that dusty corner reserved for love. the kind of love san accused you of not knowing. how are you supposed to respond when there is a whole man next to you, a man who has also asked you to hang and talk tonight?
"i'll wait until midnight. if you don't show up, that will also help me know where i stand. but then, know that you might not hear from me anymore."
the phone call ends just in time when wooyoung pulls up in his parking spot. he silently exits, opening the door for you. still overwhelmed by the one sided conversation that just happened, you remain seated.
"if you're going to be sulky like that, i will just drive you to him." wooyoung offers, annoyance clear in his tone.
you feel a little irritated for his lack of empathy. but who would empathize with such an awful person like yourself? wooyoung sighs, then crouches in front of the open door on your side.
"you can't sit on two stools at a time, angel. i understand that emotions are hard, and love is complicated. right now, i am offering you something simple, and something harmless. i am not looking for love, i think. i just want to help you discover, and i want to discover you."
not looking for love, that you know. but it feels different hearing it out loud. the i think part right after it went right over your head, only adding to the you really are dense agenda.
"yunho is offering you commitment. real love. something i'm not quite capable of giving you, or anyone. i think with my dick, and he thinks with his heart. that creates a problem for you, because you want to be loved, but you also want a dick to make you stop thinking."
you aren't sure if he is dirty talking, or if this is just the way he speaks about these things. you finally look at him. his hand reaches for yours, gently guiding you out of the car.
"you can sit down and think inside."
but there was not much thinking. you were quick to lay on top of wooyoung, entirely relaxed in his arms as his nails grazed the skin of your thighs. non sexually. just innocent pleasure and the movie playing in the back. but you can't relax all the way, because you know where tonight will lead. you squirming under wooyoung's touch, the only emotions present being lust and yeaerning. you liked yunho. you really did. but the way wooyoung handles you is not like any other. you need to have it, at least one more time.
"you're not watching the movie."
"i know."
"then what are you doing?"
"thinking."
wooyoung sighs. his hands halt on your waist, then help you sit up on his lower stomach as he stays laying down.
"be honest with me. what exactly do you want? i won't judge you."
"i don't know." you lie.
"let me try a different approach. what do you want with me? be completely raw, so we can both know where we stand."
and you do just that. tell him all about your desires, about the feeling of lust which you've mistaken as a crush towards him, about loving how desirable you are feeling when it comes to him, and everything that comes to your mind. he listens, slowly nodding his head as you speak.
"i guess i want to have a little fun with no commitment before the, you know, actual commitment."
"i understand. now, what do you want with yunho?"
"everything."
you do want everything with him. from the kisses he is dying to offer you to whatever kinkery he has hidden behind those shiny eyes. yunho is a man every girl wants, including you, yet he only has heart eyes for you. and you'd be stupid to let that go.
"then go for it."
"see, the thing is- i already got a taste of you. and i want closure. i want to finally get that orgasm you've been delaying for so long."
wooyoung nods, eyebrows a little scrunched. he is focused on putting a stray hair behind your ear, and when that hair refuses to obey him over and over again, he huffs, and finally gives your sentence attention.
"we need to discuss first. what kind of orgasm are we talking?"
"what do you mean?"
"well, now that you've finally come to terms with your feelings towards that yunho dude, taking your v-card is off the table?"
"yeah, i guess." you shrug, as if it was just a hug you were talking about.
"just to warn you, it hurts like hell."
"that i know. thanks."
"he can reach out to me for some tips if he wants. just saying."
"got it."
he smiles, then proceeds.
"filming is off the table?"
"uh-"
"just asking, not forcing. if we are going to do simple oral and, or, fingering, then you know... i'd maybe like some footage. at least for me to enjoy sometimes."
come to think of it, it is risky, and it is something that you wouldn't do ever again when or if you become yunho's partner. this is maybe a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you don't want to waste it.
"i'll give you back by midnight, baby." he winks.
"okay." you agree.
you feel your heart beat faster, and louder. you have just agreed to be filmed, in a stranger's house, touched by that same stranger, and the video will be up for so many people to see. so what? you'll ask him to blur or cut the face out of the frame. simple as that.
"come on then."
the young man stands up, giving you his open hand. little do you know that the gaze you're giving him from below him on that couch is making his pants feel very tight.
you accept his hand, and allow him to lead you to his room. your eyes land on the bed. the very same bed and pillows where he filmed that live, and many other lives after that. wooyoung then gently pushes you towards the bed, hands grazing your waist while his eyes admire your outfit. it looks so easy to take off.
he carefully pushes you on the bed, and you swear you've never felt a mattress so soft. he climbs on the bed, hovering over you and giving you one more head to toe scan.
"so pretty." he whispers.
"thank you." you say, not knowing what else to do.
he laughs, then leans in to give you a kiss sweeter than those cake pops you used to eat throughout your whole high school. he kisses you again, again and again, until you start yearning for more. you reach for his shoulders, hair, neck, anything to make him deepen the kiss and give you one of his passionate ones. he takes his time, playing with your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth.
"patience." he instructs, then untangles your hands from his hair.
he reaches towards the nightstand. the same nightstand from which he pulled that clear toy out that night you discovered him. instead of something crazy, he pulls a single piece of long fabric. the fabric is shiny and pink, with lace decorating it.
"you trust me?"
"completely."
"that's a good girl." he kisses your forehead before putting the silk over your eyes. "raise your head for me a little bit."
you do as told, enough so he can tie it up behind your head. he adjusts your hair, letting it fall over your shoulders, then traces his finger down your neck and to your collarbones. you almost shiver at his touch. he continues his journey to your shoulders, gently pulling down the sleeves of your dress, then does the same to the other. you feel like everything is ten times more intense, since you can't see anything anymore.
he pulls his hand back, then shuffles on top of you for a while. you hear something hit the floor, and then feel the mattress dip between your legs. wooyoung takes your hand, guiding it towards a source of warmth. you breathe out when you touch his warm skin, nails yearning to dig into it. he helps you trace his abs, his formed chest, and all the way down to his defined v-line. you feel a few veins leading to a place of heaven, or hell, and you have to bite your lip to keep you from smiling.
this is exactly what you want.
"can i see?" you ask nicely.
"no. just feel." he declines, and you hear him smile as he says that.
"okay." you comply, using the opportunity to touch a little more
he then gets off the bed again, and you hear slight rattling. he must be setting up the camera. it doesn't take long for him to come back, placing an object next to you at a certain position.
"i'm only going to be filming myself and your lower body, alright? something like your point of view? you okay with that?"
"yes."
"you sure?"
"yes." you breathe out, feeling his hands caressing your hips.
"we need a safe word, angel."
"god, i don't know, just touch me already. please." you beg like a pathetic slut.
"i know you're impatient, but i really need you to think of a word."
"i don't know." you're becoming annoyed with him.
"how about..." he hums, then kisses your jawline, "mocha?"
"y-yes, that sounds good." you stutter as he plants kisses along your jawline, going down your neck and stopping at collarbones.
"so when you say mocha, i'm stopping everything i'm doing. got it?"
"yes."
"good. i'm turning it on now."
you hear a click, then a short sound. he waits a little, probably for people to join.
"hi, my favorite people. i would do some talking, but to be honest, i can't wait to dive into today's special."
you don' t have time to process his words, he is shuffling through the drawers again. wooyoung then takes your clothes off, and you help him by raising your hips, pulling your arms out your sleeves, all to make him satisfied. he plants a kiss on your knuckles, thumb grazing over them before he sets your hand back down. his lips hover above your skin, blowing cool air along the line of the lingerie bra you wore.
"i like you more in those pastels." he admits.
the man cups your breasts, slowly massaging them and letting his thumbs graze your tense buds over the thin black lace. you squirm under his touch, feeling the pleasure pool in your lower stomach. you swear you could cum from only nipple touching if he did it long enough. you could try that once.
"she's awfully quiet, isn't she? what should i do to her?" he speaks to the camera.
he then takes a few seconds to read the written suggestions, and then chuckles.
"take off the bra? oh, but i quite like it like this. it makes the situation sexier and more intimate. doesn't look like that raw porn you can find on pornhub, right?"
he is right. you got all dolled up for him, would be a shame if he took everything off so soon. you feel a warm wet muscle trace around your areola, building anticipation. his other hand plays with it too, not once touching the nerve ending that is angrily sticking out and demanding attention. he finally gives in, closing his lips around the tense bud and ever so lightly grazes it with the tip of his tongue.
you gasp, arching your back from the mattress. his hand is quick to find its place on your stomach, pushing your body back down and caressing your skin along the way.
"atta girl." he praises, seeing just how obedient you are for him.
his teeth graze your nipple, then gently tug at it. you twitch, hands flying towards him in hopes to grab his hair. he is quick to grab your wrists, pinning your hands above your head.
"i'm the one doing the exploring, angel. you lay there for me like the patient pretty doll you are."
you nod, immediately becoming still. his fingers find a path down your stomach, to the line of your panties. he caresses the skin right above your clit, circling it, grazing the inside of your thighs, your folds, all while ignoring the burning place right in the middle of all that. your hips almost buck into his hand, but you remember to be good. he pushes the panties aside, revealing you to himself and the camera.
"oh, so pretty." he exhales.
you hear him put his fingers in his mouth, coating them in saliva, then dip between your folds. you whine when he touches the tip of your clit, spinning it in circles and making you gasp for air. your hands are still pinned above your head, and his knee is fast to hold your legs open by pressing the inside of your thigh into the mattress. he then dips his fingers below, first one, then two. the feeling of strange and a little uncomfortable is back, but when he starts pumping in and out at a slow pace, occasionally curling his fingers up, you are a moaning mess. you can hear just how wet you are for him, and each time he buries his fingers deep inside of you, you have to fight the urge to moan louder.
"wish you could see just how well you're taking me."
you remember how absolutely hot it looked that night, seeing his fingers disappear inside of you.
"good, good girl. one more? think you can handle?"
there is two already, but you still nod. he adds another finger, deliciously stretching you out and giving you trouble breathing. it seems like hours have passed, and wooyoung is still content with fingering you at a pace that is too slow even for you. he is enjoying the sounds and view you are offering him, and is too mesmerized by the way he is so smoothly disappearing inside of you, all while you breathe heavily and buck your hips into his hand.
you feel your wrists become free. sore, but free. wooyoung then grabs something from the nightstand, and shuffles with it for a few moments. you hear light buzzing, and your heart jumps a little. fuck, he is doing everything just right. as if he entered your mind and stole all your wishes.
he brings it to your nipple, circling it just like his tongue is circling your clit. you are overwhelmed, struggling to keep still like he instructed.
"wooyoung-" you whine.
"i know, baby. feels so good, doesn't it?" he coos, sending shivers up your spine.
"yeah," you whine again, not quite capable of doing anything else.
"yeah," he hums. "you're doing a very good job, angel. hold on tight for me. don't let go just yet."
he is taking his sweet time, acting like this is only the beginning of a very long movie. you feel like cumming, and you don't want to do that just yet. you're having too much fun, and the buildup is much more pleasurable than the orgasm itself. at least you think so. his voice is soothing, low and raspy, and that alone is enough to make you feel like you came ten times already.
his tongue dives between your folds again, adding the third source of pleasure and shooting arrows to your core. you tremble under his passionate licks, thighs struggling to stay open. he hums into your clit, vibrations matching the ones on your nipple. he spins the gadget around your buds, slowly, then teases the areola again. you hear yourself become louder and louder, and he doesn't seem to mind. it's killing you that you can't see him. he must surely look gorgeous between your legs, working his tongue on you like it's his last feast.
his plush lips close around the tip of your clit, gently tugging it, tongue spinning it in slow circles just how you like it. but today, it all seems a little too slow. you are eager to see just how he will make you cum. maybe you can take two?
"how much longer?" you ask, feeling a bit stupid.
"oh, so much longer. i'm not letting go of you just yet."
the time is slow, and pleasure still bearable. you don't know how much longer you can hold. luckily, he pulls away from you, just in time. you feel his wet digits trail your bottom lip, as if asking permission to enter. you open your mouth, taking in the arousal that exists just for him. you taste yourself on his fingers, working your tongue around them so that you don't just lay completely useless. he hums, watching you swirl around them, and letting them go with a little suck at the end.
"i'm going to make you feel so good, princess. give you the best treatment you'll ever get."
you feel all fluttery and fidgety from his words. you could listen to him forever.
"come here."
you feel him sit behind you, back resting against the wall, and his hands pull you into his lap. your bare back rests against his built chest, and you can't help but hum at the sensation. he chuckles, loving every bit of reaction you have to give him.
"face reveal?" he reads a comment, and you become tense in his hands. "no."
the firm no has you grabbing his thighs, legs automatically spreading for him to continue abusing your clit and hole. his fingers move your hair out of the way of your chest, and gently tuck it behind your ears.
"so pretty." he coos again, leaving a kiss on top of your head.
you melt into his arms at his never ending praises, and you can't get enough. you wish to be called pretty all day long. you wish to be kissed like that for the rest of your life. you love how desired he makes you feel.
"are you real?" you mumble, lost in the soft vibrations that are circling your entrance.
he laughs, then kisses your shoulder. "very much, sweetheart."
"it feels too good. you feel too good."
"i know, baby. i know."
the gadget on your cunt is small, and still at a low speed. he uses his other hand to spread your folds, enough to start inserting the small vibrator inside. you yelp a little, the stretch wider than his fingers.
"easy," he whispers, "just like that..."
he fully inserts it, and you feel so full and in pain.
"i'm not going all the way, don't be afraid."
he pumps the toy in and out of you, enough to get you used to the new stretch. his other hand toys with your clit and tricks your brain into focusing on the pleasure rather than pain.
"wooyoung?"
"yes, love?"
"i thought you said you'd destroy me."
his movements stop. you bite your lip, trying to keep the smirk spreading on your lips. a gasp leaves your lips as his hand grabs your jaw, pulling your head back so that he can look at your face. he gets close, so close that your lips almost touch.
"is that what you want?"
his hot breath is so inviting, but when you reach to kiss him, he moves away, and grabs your jaw firmer.
"you want your tight little cunt to be destroyed? you want me to throw you around and use you like that toy you watched me fuck? you want me to fuck the feeling for the other guy out of you? so that you don't see nobody else but me? so that your pussy only fits on my cock? so that your body only responds to me?"
you are breathless as he spills all his intentions out, with each sentence sending goosebumps all over your body.
"that what you want? for me to fuck you dumb?"
"yes." you simply say.
you expected him to push you down on the bed. you expected him to pull your hair. you expected him to degrade you, spank you, and whatnot. but what you did not expect was the gentle tug of the blindfold, and a caress of your cheek as his grip on your jaw softened. you open your eyes, and meet his dark ones.
"are you sure?" he asks quietly.
"what?" you act dumb.
"you want me to...?"
"i want you to fuck me." you finally say it.
it seems like he has stopped breathing for a moment. he takes a few seconds to examine your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. when he sees none, he places the silk on your hands, tying them up and placing them in your lap.
"i meant what i said," he speaks to you and only you now, back turned towards the camera. "i am going to take a good care of you. remember your safety word?"
"mocha."
"good girl." he places a kiss on your forehead, then pushes you to lay down.
you watch him unbutton his pants, finally seeing more of that v-line you are suddenly very obsessed with. he throws them on the floor, along with the boxers, letting his cock free from the grip of the fabric. your jaw drops at the size. not enormous, but still too big for your virgin self. this is going to hurt like hell.
"can i suck you off?" you ask, subconsciously doing the big eyes thing he so much loves.
"are you sure? i wanted this to be about you."
"i'm sure." you say, eager to get a taste of him. "just, uh... guide me?"
"with pleasure."
he lays on the bed, elbow holding his upper body up as his other hand brings your face close to his cock. you didn't think it would look this clean and... pretty. you stick your tongue out, finally getting a taste of him. he hums, throwing his head back. you lick up from the base to the tip, immediately taking him in your mouth. he gasps, not expecting it so soon. he fills your mouth deliciously, resting against your tongue as his precum spills down your throat. he feels smooth, and very hot.
"god, so good," he groans, hand reaching for your hair to guide you up and down.
you bob your head up and down, too impatient to go slow like he did. you want to hear him more, knowing that you are the reason for those sounds and words.
"even your mouth is so tight, i might cum if you continue." he pulls your head away.
"you're so mean," you whine.
"i know," he coos for the third time today, knowing just what it does to you. "let me take care of you."
you try to lay down, but he holds you in place. you are confused. does he want to jump to some insane positions right away?
"missionary hurts. we will try something else. that good?"
you nod, and he sits against the wall again. he pulls you towards him, finally kissing you again. he showers you with soft kisses, and even though he promised whatnot, you are still experiencing a very soft and gentle version of him. you like it, but the thought of all the things he has listed for you is making your blood boil with excitement.
his hands cup your ass, raising your body and slowly bringing it towards his cock. you look down, noticing that a condom is already sitting on it. when did he manage to do that?
"slow," he whispers, guiding your hips so that you slowly start to sit on him, "just like that. good job."
you yelp at the uncomfortable stretch, and knowing that the pain is yet to come, you put your still tied hands around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. inch by inch, he disappears inside of you, leaving no space empty. you feel so full and uncomfortable, your teeth sink into his shoulder to stop the loud moans of pain.
"hold onto me, love. it'll be better."
you forget the camera. you forget yunho. you forget san. you forget your feelings towards the other man. you will enjoy this, even if it was your last.
"can i move?"
"yes."
he keeps you close to him, lifting your hips slowly up and down. you hear the comment section flooding, and glance over at the laptop on the nightstand. each money donation makes a sound, and right now, there is tons of them. you enjoy all the praises written in the comments, talking about how well you are taking him, how obedient you are, and how innocent you look. you like it all a little too much.
wooyoung speeds up the pace, hips finally colliding with yours with a bigger force. you don't let go of his shoulder just yet, still focusing on the pleasure and trying to ignore the pain. he is a groaning mess, and little did you know that he has to use every ounce of self control in him to not just slam you on the bed and fuck you open for him. he grips your hips, sure to leave bruises afterwards, and keeps the same pace for a while.
"feeling okay?"
"yeah," you stutter between little gasps and moans.
"can i speed up?"
"yes, please."
the man finally lets himself loose, picking up your body by your waist and moving his own hips instead in a fast pace. your jaw drops, and your eyes roll back from the newfound point of pleasure. you are completely lost in his touch, scent and voice. he is grunting with each push, reaching deep inside of you and touching a particularly sensitive spot you didn't know you had.
"fuck, you're so wet." he hisses. “look how well you take me.”
having enough of the position, he finally throws you against the mattress, yet his gaze still has a hint of worry for you. when you smile, it's his sign to dive into your gardens again. the new position feels odd, and good in a new way. he reaches for a pillow, putting it under your hips for easier access, and finally fulfills his promise.
his hips dive into yours, colliding with force and awaking the orgasm inside of you. the pace isn't fast, it is just right. you have enough time to savour every delicious pump he delivers you.
"i want to cum so bad, please." you beg, feeling a bit overstimulated.
"just a little longer, hm?"
he speeds up the pace, grabbing your waist and practically slamming you against his cock, while his hips stay resting. you feel like that toy, being used like this. you can't help but develop a secret size kink, seeing how easily he is handling you and throwing your body around how he likes it. your eyes catch the gadget near him on the bed, and you grab it. his eyes are focused on the place you're connecting, admiring the view with scrunched eyebrows. he is so into it, that he doesn't even see you put the vibrating gadget on your clit. it is the sudden flood of comments again that makes him look away.
"chasing that orgasm like a thirsty little cumslut?"
you nod eagerly, focusing on the pool of pleasure threatening to spill over. a volcano waiting to erupt. a bottle of champagne waiting to pop.
"wooyoung-"
"go on, baby. i've tortured you enough."
you moan, grabbing his hand for support as you slowly reach the peak.
"cum on my cock like it's your last." he grunts.
it takes you over the edge. a river spilling over the highest cliffs, hitting hard against the pond and creating waves all the way to the shore. it is ripping through your body, and you swear you feel in in the ends of your hair and the tips of your toes. your back arches from the mattress, shaking as shock waves continue to exhaust your body. you are a moaning and whining mess, grabbing anything you can, from his arms and hair, to the mattress and pillows above your head.
"fuck, angel, i'm close too." he warns.
"use me," you whine, still in a hazy state. "use me like that fuck toy."
hearing you speak that way sends him over the edge too, fingers digging into the skin of your waist, and eyes rolling back as he moans and groans. his hips become sloppy, and you feel something warm spill inside of you. it takes a few more pumps for him to come down from his high, and when he is done, he lets himself fall on top of you.
he doesn't speak. doesn't move. just breathes and holds you in his embrace. you lay there for a while, trying to calm your breathing and come back to your senses. with a single tap on the keyboard, he shuts the live off, not even looking at it. he does it that often, he doesn't need to look.
his head finds peace in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his arms caress the place that is full of red marks from his hands. his breathing slows, and when you look down, you realize he has dozed off. you do too, holding him against your chest and replaying everything that just happened.
when you wake up, you see that the sky has gotten darker. you reach for the phone, checking the time so that you won't be late to your arrangement with yunho. but then, you see a notification just underneath the digits showing a young night.
a single message, with an attached screenshot of a very familiar room and familiar nude people.
yunho: i think i'm ready to let go. you've made it so much easier. goodbye.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
@minimoniac @miriamxsworld @kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav
#ateez#ateez imagine#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez x y/n#ateez x you#wooyoung#wooyoung x y/n#wooyoung x you#wooyoung imagine#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#yunho#yunho angst#yunho x reader#yunho x you#yunho imagine#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung fanfic#yunho smut#yunho fluff#ateez scenario#wooyoung scenario#yunho scenario#wooyoung oneshot#wooyoung smut oneshot#kpop smut#ateez oneshot#ateez oneshots
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Monstrous Lovers- Part 1
Part Two Part Three
It was honest a shot in the dark when you posted that ad, not wanting to let go of your dream house quite yet. However, you couldn’t deny that it was getting harder and harder to make the bills by yourself. There was quite a bit of back and forth between sending the ad out or not, but after a simple post online, you felt it was a good deal, your best friend thinking you were crazy, but you posted it anyways.
Roommate Wanted
1 or more bedrooms, separate bathrooms ranch styled home in the country. Rent 2500/month includes utilities (including, internet, streaming sites, and electricity). Message me if interested, application and interview required prior to approval.
Bit about me: lone female, mixture of at home and in shop work, quiet lifestyle. No pets.
Text preferred if between hours 9 pm to 4 am. Thank you! (xxx) xxx-xxxx.
-----
Soap couldn’t believe his eyes, half blaming it on the tiring mission they had just finished and possible lack of food, but the ad seemed like a great deal. Maybe a little high in price, but he reread that ad three times before nudging Kyle’s shoulder. Gaz’s bleary eyes turned to look at him, half awake.
“What’s up?” his voice was filled with exhaustion, but Johnny paid it no mind (his own energy seemingly endless sometimes) as he turned his phone screen letting Gaz squint and blink a few times to focus on the bright screen.
Soap waited for Gaz to look up at him with an eye brow raised before speaking, “check it out, she posted this two days ago looking for a roommate. Seems like a good deal, maybe a bit pricey but it’s not like we can’t afford it.”
“I mean, yeah it’s a good deal and seems like a good idea, but…I don’t think ghost or the captain will go for it.” Gaz shrugged his shoulders, reading through the ad one more time, unable to deny the way his stomach seemed to twist with the idea of coming back to a home, not just the base.
“I think they’ll agree when they see it.” Soap shrugged, reading through the ad again, even going as far to click into your profile and scroll through some of the public photos you had.
Soap couldn’t stop the giddy feeling running through him as he waited for them to get back to the base, wanting to talk with Ghost and Price regarding this steal of a deal ad.
-------------
You were exhausted, after a long day of several interviews regarding the spare rooms you had, you were beginning to feel like you were gonna have to settle for either the roudy young couple in love, who happened to be expecting or the rather reclusive and silent male who you interviewed. They seemed nice, but you weren’t fully sold on the idea of one of them as roommates.
As you sat in the cafe, a cup of cold tea sitting in front of you, you weren’t expecting your phone to ring. You sighed once before picking it up, “hello?”
“Yeah, I got this number from an ad for some rooms for rent. I wanted to know if it was still available and if we could possible tour it.” The voice was deep, a very slight hoarness to it that made you sit up a bit.
“Uh, yeah we can tour it but I would prefer to do a meet and greet first. I’m at the cafe on the corner of sullivan and market if you want to meet me here.” You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing it was only a little past two meaning you could handle waiting around a bit longer.
“Perfect, we’ll be there in ten.” Before you could say anymore, the line hung up.
You sat there for a moment, contemplating the risk you were running before deciding ‘what’s the worst that can happen?’
-------
You sat there playing on your phone, having ordered a new tea as yours had gone cold. As you sat there, you jumped when the chair in front of you pulled out, looking up quickly, alarmed before blinking a few times in shock. “Uh…can I help you sir..or uh..sirs?”
You looked up at the men, four of them as the largest of them sat in the chair. You could look at them and tell they were hybrids. It wasn’t uncommon in the area anymore of the hybrids, but you were a little surprised as they sat at your table, thinking briefly how you believed hybrids to stay with one another. The seemingly leader of the four, held his hand out, his lone dragon wing tucked tightly behind his back, tail naturally coiling around the leg of his chair to not take up too much space, “John Price, I believe we spoke on the phone earlier regarding the rooms for rent?”
You blinked a few more times, watching the one with the mowhawk take a seat to your left, the other winged one sitting to your right while the one in an all black mask with his hood up stood behind John. “oh…uh right yes, sorry I…I wasn’t..”
You trailed off, not wanting to sound rude, the one to your left spoke up next a small laugh bubbling in his throat, “no worries, lass! Name’s Johnny, but you can call me Soap, that there is Kyle, or Gaz if you wanted to and the one back there is Ghost. We seen your ad for a roommate or possibly more, we’re very interested.”
You gave a small nervous smiling nodding as you looked at Johnny, then to Price and then Kyle and Ghost, “right, yes. I don’t know if I put it in the ad or not, but it’s a five bedroom ranch styles home, each of us would have their own rooms of course and their own bathrooms. Rent would be 2500 a month, which I know is a bit high, but I tried to throw in as much as I could with that as I could.”
Price nodded giving a small smile to try and put you at ease, “course. Now, the four of us would be the roommates, the price is not a concern at all. We are active duty, often in and out of the home due to work, but we want a place to come back to as home. Something a little more homey than the base is.”
You nodded giving a small smile, “of course, I understand that. I am a hair stylist so sometimes I have clients in home, but most times I work in my shop. I have no pets or anything, house sits on 20 acres of forest land, much of it has been untouched. I’m open to changing things on the property but I don’t want to adjust too much as I like the feel it has.”
You noticed the way Price seemed to take lead, “course, we don’t expect you to change for us love. Now, to get the elephant in the room out of the way, as you can tell we are hybrids. I personally am a dragon, Soap here is a werewolf, Gaz is a harpy and Ghost back here is a wraith. Would that be a dealbreaker for you? And it’s completely okay with being honest.”
You were quiet for a moment, thinking it over before shaking your head a bit, “no, it’s not a deal breaker. I’m not really sure how that works or anything but I’m willing to learn.” You gave a smile, trying to put them at ease, not seeing the way the four of them seemed to look between one another before nodding. “Now, would you like a tour of the house?”
Soap gave a large smile, showing off his sharpened canines, “Would love one lass.”
#captain john price x reader#john soap mactavish#cod fanfic#cod mw2#john price#task force x reader#polyamory#call of duty#john price x you#john price x y/n#johnny mactavish#soap x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#kyle gaz garrick#simon riley#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#gaz x reader#monster au#hybrid#werewolf
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migraine | b.c.
summary: you were known to have pretty intense migraines but chan is there to help you feel better.
wc: 1.9k
warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff, tad bit of hurt/ comfort, sweet channie as always, and in true ashton fashion far too many petnames lmao. very lightly proofread (p.s. i am in my wolfchan lover arc, need him immediately.)
a/n: omg ashton got lost in the sauce again? * gasp* shocker! yeah this took me way too long to write but whatever. i actually don't hate this which is crazy but this is self indulgent because i get some pretty intense, nasty migraines that can last a couple days and it sucks. but if you suffer from the same thing i hope this can bring you some comfort and also i recommend a gel cap that you put in the freezer. an actual game changer, trust. anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3
*lowercase intended*
my library
(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)
you had some pretty nasty migraines, no secret to you or chan. they last anywhere from a few hours to a few days and while there were things to help lessen the pain and pressure, sometimes you just had to ride it out.
this was unfortunately one of those times. now usually you would call chan as soon as you felt the first telltale sign of a migraine . this time however, you didn’t, you knew he was busy with work and didn’t want to interfere with that. but you were selfishly starting to regret that decision as everything you were doing did nothing to help.
it seemed like everything did nothing but increase the pressure in your head, spreading to your face. in a last ditch effort to get some sleep you put on some migraine music, pressed a cold compress to your eyes and pulled wolfchan to your chest.
the soft plushie smelled faintly of chan’s cologne, the only thing actually helping you relax. but it also made you miss the aussie man, wishing he was by your side, rubbing your temples, softly lulling you to sleep.
you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt a warm tear drip down to your neck. you knew you had to calm down or you risk making everything worse but you couldn’t. you were overwhelmed by the pressure in your head and frustrated with nothing helping to release it.
you felt selfish and guilty but you knew you needed chan, you felt like you were going insane without him. hesitantly you moved the compress from your eyes, grabbing your phone.
despite the brightness being on the lowest possible setting, you felt a sharp pain behind your eye as the screen turned on. you unlocked your phone, clicking chan’s contact, you quickly typed out a message.
to channie <3 :
hi, i’m so sorry to ask but i really don’t know what else to do, i have a migraine and nothing's helping. i know you're working but is there anyway when you finish up at the studio you could come over? even for a little bit, if not i totally get it, just thought i’d ask, love you bug.
you hit send, locking your phone, placing it on the soft sheets, placing the compress back over your eyes. a few minutes passed before you felt your phone buzz beside you. you move the cold compress once more, bracing yourself for the light from your phone.
from channie <3:
can you call me jagi? i don’t want you to keep looking at your phone screen, love you too sweet girl.
you click his contact once more, hitting the little phone icon next to his name causing the calming music to stop, a loud ringing replacing it. this caused you to wince and quickly lower the volume before putting it on speaker so you could place the cooling pack back over your eyes.
it didn’t take long before he picked up. “hi my baby, what’s going on?” he asked softly.
“my head hurts,” you started, words slightly slurred. “it’s really bad channie.” you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “i’ve tried everything and nothing’s working, i don’t know what to do.” you softly cried, tears making their way down your cheeks once more.
“okay angel okay, take a deep breath, i need you to relax for me okay? i know it hurts but it’s gonna hurt worse if you’re upset.” you hear rustling in the background.
“i’m just finishing up a few things here and then i’m gonna head over, okay sweetheart?” you respond with a soft whimper, followed by a quiet, “okay.” you press the pack further into your eyes, chasing the coolness that is quickly leaving the gel filled pack.
“do you want me to stay on the phone with you till i get there?” he asks softly, packing his bag.
“yes, please.” you mumbled. “okay baby, just keep breathing and focus on me, okay? i’m gonna pick up some food on the way too, okay?” you hummed in response, rolling over, pushing the soft plushie to your cheek, breathing in the familiar scent.
“everything okay?” you hear changbin ask in the background. “yeah, y/n has a migraine, so i’m going to help her.” chan responds.
“oh no, i hope she feels better, let us know if you guys need anything.” you hear han chime in, your heart swelling at the boys concern.
“will do, thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” you hear him open the studio door making his way into the hallway.
“you still with me, jagi?” he asks softly. “yeah, i’m here.” face squished into the soft fabric. “alright sweetheart, i’m gonna mute for a bit just until i get to my car, okay?” he asks, the elevator dings in the background, signaling its arrival.
“okay.” you say sleepily. “i love you baby, i’ll be right back.” you hear him press a button in the elevator. “love you too bub.” your words slurring slightly.
after chan muted, you felt yourself slowly succumb to the exhaustion, phone positioned next to you on the sheets, wolfchan tucked safely against your cheek, you, curled up in a soft blanket .
that is exactly how chan found you about 25 minutes later as he walked in your room, the space dimly lit by the oil diffuser sitting on your bedside table. he left the take-out bags sitting on your kitchen counter, fresh compress and cold water in hand. he gently places the water on your desk, making his way over to you.
he grabs your phone, ending the call before turning off the relaxing music. he sits next to your sleeping form, gently taking the warm pack off your face. he places a kiss on your forehead before placing the fresh compress on your eyes.
you tense for a moment, before relaxing as the cold begins to relieve the tension once more. you stir awake from the sudden change in temperature. “channie?” you asked, sleep laced in your voice.
he places a hand on your hips, his thumb rubbing soothing circles to the area. “hi, my baby,” he whispers. “how are you feeling hm?” he asks, continuing the soothing motion. you move the cool pack, grabbing his free hand, in this lap, threading your fingers together before placing a kiss on the back of his.
“better now that you’re here.” you murmured, giving him a small smile. he smiled back before leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead.
“i got you some ramen, i’m gonna go grab it for you okay?” you nodded, him standing, still keeping your hand in his. he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before placing the compress back over your eyes, grabbing the warm one to put back in the freezer .
he gives your hand a light squeeze before walking away. you relax into the soft mattress below you while chan goes to grab the hot soup and some medicine just in case.
he walks in with the tray, setting it on your desk next to the cold water collecting condensation on the wood below it. he makes his way over to you, sitting next to you once again, gently lifting the pack off your eyes. “there she is,” he placed a hand on your cheek, setting the compress next to you.
“hi baby.” he smiled, softly stroking your cheek. you give him a small smile back before turning your head slightly to place a kiss to his palm. “can you sit up for me please?” you nod softly before slowly moving to lean against the wall behind you.
“careful jagi.” he whispered, quickly placing a hand behind your head. “thank you, bug.” you mumble, adjusting the pillows behind you, placing wolfchan in your lap . chan stands up once more, placing the water on the tray before bringing it over to you.
“thank you, chan, you really didn’t have to do all this.” you say, guilt creeping up on you once again. he shakes his head. “nope, none of that. i’m your boyfriend, this is my job.” he places the tray on your lap, taking his place next to you once again.
“plus, i love taking care of you. if you need me, i’m there. any time, any place, simple as that.” your heart swells, you feel a lump form in the back of your throat. “you can’t say stuff like that when i’m like this, i’ll cry.” you play with the plushie’s ears before feeling a finger lift your chin.
“i love you, and i’ll always be here for you, no matter where either of us are, okay?” he said, looking into your eyes, with nothing but love and sincerity. you nod, “i love you too.” he smilled, carefully leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead.
“now, you need to eat, i got your favorite.” he says, picking up the hot soup, opening the lid, before separating the chopsticks. he dips the wooden sticks in the soup, giving it a stir before grabbing some of the noodles.
he gently blows on the steaming noodles before offering it to you, container under it to catch any dripping soup. you giggle, “you know i can feed myself right?” he frowns, pushing the noodles and container closer to you. “eat.”
you smile before opening your mouth, accepting the food he so generously offered you. a smile made it’s way onto his face, feeding you a few more bites. he placed the container back down, chopsticks resting in the soup, before grabbing the medicine and water.
“take these.” he placed them in your hand, opening the water as you dropped the pills in your mouth. he hands you the water, watching as you greedly gulp down the cool beverage. “ how are you feeling, angel?” he asks gently.
“it still hurts but i think eating and drinking definitely helped.” you smiled, handing him the bottle. “ good, i’m glad. eat a few more bites then we’ll lay down, okay?” he says, picking up the soup once more.
you end up finishing the ramen before he grabs the tray and the now warm compress. “do you want a cold one?” he asks holding up the pack.
“yes please.” you nod slightly. “okay, get comfy, i’ll be right back jagi.” you smile laying back down as he leaves the room.
he comes back, shortly after, with a fresh compress and another bottle of water. he places the water next to your diffuser, placing the compress over your eyes. he circles the bed, climbing under the covers.
he lays down, pulling you into him, placing your head on his chest. you place your arm around his wait, hand slipping under his shirt, rubbing your thumb across his soft skin.
he brings his hand up, rubbing soft circles on your temples, placing kiss on the top of your head. “sleep jagi, we can shower when you wake up okay?’ you nod slightly against him.
“thank you, channie. i love you, more than you know.” you mumble, tightening your arms around him. “i love you too baby, i’ll always take care of you, okay?” placing one last kiss to your hair.
that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms. the pressure in your head, slowly releasing, finally able to relax.
reblogs/feedback are appreciated! i hope you guys enjoyed!
do no repost
#bang chan#bang chan imagine#bang chan fluff#bang chan x reader#bang chan fic#stray kids#stray kids fic#stray kids drabble#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagine#stray kids fluff#ash's library
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Like We Just Met
pairing; yoon jeonghan x jeon wonwoo x f reader
genre; smut (minors dni)
warnings; friends to lovers, reunited friends, mild dom!jeonghan, mild mlm, flashbacks to high school, threesome, unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, temperature play, wonwoo is able to lift the reader, pet names/nicknames, cameos from other members -- as always if i have left anything out and its glaring let me know.
w/c; 9.8k
a/n; thank you to @onlyseokmins for proofreading for me!
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
The lobby of the Eleva was impressive and caused you to take a deep breath. You had been inside nice hotels before but none of them seemed up to par now as you looked up at the ornate ceiling.
You had moved to the city a few years ago after getting a job as an intern for Artistaire and just a few months ago you had been moved into the position of editor. You were on a fast track to becoming assistant editor-in-chief if you did well with what you had been tasked with starting today.
You could hear your boss’ voice in your head as your heels clicked over the marble, making your way towards the receptionist's desk. The conversation was so fresh in your mind that your fingers were trembling around the leather strap of your bag, held tightly against your shoulder.
“It’s the most important article of the year for Artistaire. I’m trusting you to meet with both of them and find out everything about them. I want every detail. Don’t stick to the script, Y/N.”
The article was for Artistaire’s most influential of the year. It was not only a great honor to be picked and interviewed for the article but also to be the interviewer. It could make or break someone’s career.
Your biggest problem was that you were given very little detail about the men you were interviewing. It could be anyone. The entire point of the interview was to go in blind with no preconceived notions about who you were going to meet. You weren’t supposed to do any research and to get everything in the article from the interview so that it reads “raw and fresh” for the audience.
“Get the dirty truth for me. I want to know everything, from what they eat in a day to who they are fucking.” René had smiled at you when you let out a breath at her crude wording before she added. “I know how much you like the corner office with the view, darling.”
“Do it for the corner office with the view." You mutter to yourself as you step up to the desk and give a bright smile to the pretty receptionist, who looked a bit bored with you before you even spoke. “Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, from Artistaire.”
Pursing her lips, the woman sighs, glancing at the screen in front of her, before her lips turn into a slight smirk and she meets your eyes, reaching for something out of your view.
“Take the elevator to the 100th floor. You’ll need this, and from there you’ll be escorted to the penthouse, Miss Y/L/N. Enjoy your Eleva experience.”
Furrowing your brows at her wording, you take the black card from her fingers, glancing over the gold engraved lettering before glancing towards where she had directed you to go. Whispering a soft thank you, you turn towards the elevator, feeling the knot in your stomach only getting tighter. Who the fuck were you interviewing?
Stepping into the elevator, you glance around the mirrored walls before looking at the buttons that run from B1 to 100. You knew Eleva was a tall building but the idea of being in the penthouse on the 100th floor was one that you had never thought you’d get to experience. You couldn’t help but bite at your lip to suppress a smile, wondering what the view of the city would look like from that high as you tapped the card against the reader and pressed 100, listening to a soft chime as the doors shut.
As the elevator rises and the minutes pass, you lean towards the mirrored door in front of you to check your appearance. You had tried to look good, especially not knowing who it could be that you were interviewing. The only thing that you knew was that it was two influential men. That was a broad term with an even broader range of candidates.
Politicians, actors, affluent businessmen, influencers, authors... You had spent hours trying to go over names but the list was so long with people that you felt that their actions and accomplishments could merit the interview.
Hearing one last soft chime, you take a single step back from the elevator door and let out a breath to calm your nerves as the elevator comes to a stop on the 100th floor. With the doors opening, you meet the brown eyes of a handsome man who smiles at you, giving you a quick once over.
“Welcome to Eleva, Miss..."
He didn’t know your name. Furrowing your brows, you step forward and clear your throat as you offer the man your hand, letting him take it gently into his.
“Y/L/N.”
Your voice is meeker than you intended, but it was a bit daunting to see the long hallway with a single ornate door that seemed to loom in the distance. Was this the man who you were interviewing?
“Miss Y/L/N. I apologize; when Artistaire set this up, they didn’t give many details. It seems like that’s part of the interview process. I’m Hansol, the personal assistant of Mr. Yo–”
The name was hanging on the tip of Hansol’s lips when he smiled and tilted his head, thinking better of it.
“Supposed to be a surprise, isn’t it?”
He was charming but obviously not who you were interviewing. You smile at Hansol taking back your hand as he walks beside you towards the penthouse door.
“Yes, it’s a silly premise, honestly but it’s supposed to provide a “real” interview experience. The idea that my editor came up with was that this creates tension that the reader can feel through words.”
Hansol smiles, glancing over at you once again and giving you a quick appraising look before reaching for the door in front of him with a sigh.
“Seems like it works out. The articles are always interesting. May I take your keycard?”
You look confused for a split second until you remember the black and gold card in your fingers and lift it, handing it over to the man in front of you. With another grin, Hansol taps the card against a reader on the door and pushes it open for you, letting you go inside first.
“Mr. Y–” Laughing and once again catching himself, Hansol lifts his free hand to rub at the back of his neck before correcting his words. “My employer and the other gentleman you will be interviewing are right this way. Follow me, Miss Y/L/N. Also, if you need anything during your visit with us at Eleva, just ask for me personally, alright?”
Offering him a nod, you follow, lowering your eyes to your bag, ready to take out your things as you enter a large living area and your breath is taken away by not only the aesthetic of the place but also the floor and the ceiling windows, offering you the view you had imagined in the elevator.
“It’s stunning, right?”
A familiar voice causes your brows to furrow even as you take a step towards the windows. Why did that man sound so familiar?
Jeonghan tilts his head, looking at you from behind as you look out the window at the view. He could tell you were gorgeous even from where he was standing but he hadn’t seen your face just yet. You seemed to have been startled by his voice; that hadn’t been his intention but he did have that effect on people occasionally.
“My apologies; I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Yoon Jeon—”
“Jeonghan?”
Turning towards him, your eyes widening, you stare at him as if you had just seen a ghost. Swallowing hard, Hansol takes a step back towards Jeonghan, pursing his lips before offering him the penthouse key.
“If you need me, sir – “
“Then I’ll call you. You can go, Hansol.”
A smile pulls at Jeonghan’s lips as he steps towards you, putting the keycard into his suit jacket pocket. Dark eyes move over your face and body before the man you have known for years is within arms reach and he laughs in disbelief.
“No way…Kitten?”
Your eyes were searching Jeonghan so closely to make sure he was real that you hadn’t realized that another man had moved into the room. Hearing the nickname that you had once been called in high school by your two best friends, you glance to your right, only to take a step back in shock to see Wonwoo smiling at you.
“I– no one has called me that in a long time.”
Grinning, Jeonghan reaches out to take your hand, as you seem to almost stumble in surprise at seeing ghosts from your past. He wasn’t worried about the glass behind you breaking but he was concerned about you getting hurt from falling down, as unstable as you seemed on your feet.
“Well, no one but us called you that anyway.
It had been around a decade since you had seen either of your friends in person after the three of you had made promises to stay in touch. Graduation had come and gone and the promise became harder and harder to keep as each of you went in different directions.
You knew they were successful. Jeonghan’s family had always been successful so it was a clear path for him into business. Wonwoo, you had seen him as the face of many brands and the star of many dramas and movies. Meanwhile, your road to success had taken a bit longer and you were still climbing. Now your climb was looking like a shear cliff face as you looked at the two men in front of you with expectant looks in their eyes.
“Holy shit, you look great, Kitten.”
Wonwoo’s voice was quiet but warm, just as you remembered it. He had always been a comfort in your life when you were younger and you had found yourself cheering him on with each award he had received over his years of blooming into a renowned actor.
“Wonwoo… thanks.”
Jeonghan squeezes your fingers with a light chuckle slipping from his lips as you start to come back down to earth. It was like you were waking up from a dream and he could see the realization starting to register in your eyes. Your fingers pull back from his as you clear your throat, your eyes dropping to the floor with a quick shake of your head. You were trying to put on a confident facade.
“I, this is a surprise. Clearly, as the interview states, none of us knew who would be interviewed. So this would be a biased article.”
You were so fucked. In so many ways, you were so fucked. Your fast track to the corner office with the view was going into the lap of Karina and you could see her too pretty smile now. You could picture her crossing her legs and flirting with Jeonghan and Wonwoo the entire interview; it was making your stomach turn, but you couldn’t do this now.
“What do you mean? Are you refusing to do the interview?”
Lifting your gaze to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, you press your lips together, shifting in place as you try to figure out how best to phrase what you need to say.
"I'm not refusing; I just don’t think it’s how the interview is supposed to go. The entire point is to be unbiased and raw. I’m supposed to ask you questions as if I’ve just met you, but clearly."
Smirking, Wonwoo shakes his head, moving closer to you. There was so much about you that hadn’t changed. He had beat himself up for years for losing contact with you and Jeonghan but luck changed a few years ago when he stayed at one of Jeonghan’s hotels and now here you are standing in front of him. You were always talking in circles and you needed someone to sit you down and get you to stop spinning your wheels.
“It kinda is like we just met, well again... High school was a long time ago, Y/N.”
– 10 years ago –
Jeonghan grins at you as he leans against his locker, watching as you struggle to get your textbook back in its proper place. He knew he could help you but it was cute to listen to your tiny whines. You were nervous about exams and about university acceptance letters, while he was doing his best not to let it show that he was nervous about other things.
“Why do they make them so small?”
“So that teachers can write tardy notes, Kitten.”
Wonwoo smirks as he steps in behind you to take your book, lifting the organizer with ease to slip the book under as you glance over your shoulder at him. Things had changed between you and your best friends over the last year of high school but none of you were ready to talk about it.
Each of the boys had started wanting to spend more time with you. They had started standing closer to you, touching you more, and there was always something left unsaid.
“Thanks, Woo… Jeonghan was just watching me struggle. At least I can count on one of you.”
Laughing, Jeonghan reaches over to pinch your cheek, causing you to pout your lips and pull back from his touch and teasing.
“Well, you show your claws when you get whiny, Kitten. It’s cute…”
Your cheeks burning, you glance up towards the bell as it rings and becomes your saving grace. Both of the boys watch as you clear your throat, brushing your hands over the front of your outfit, before you look up at them with a nod.
“Anyway… I will not be tardy. See you after school.”
Watching you walk quickly away, Wonwoo leans against your locker, giving a glance towards Jeonghan, who lets out a breath as his eyes move over your frame. They were thinking the same things, but maybe it was just teenage hormones getting to them. But maybe it was something more.
– Present –
Letting out a breath, you step away from Jeonghan as he speaks, only for Wonwoo to move in and take your arm, leading you towards the sofa. The feeling of being back in high school, either of the men on either side of you, made it feel like the air was water.
“Jeonghan’s right. Why are you so worried about it anyway? It’ll be a great article. I’ve read your stuff. You’re a great writer, your editor has nothing to worry about. I know I’m not worried.”
Shrugging as a way to agree with Wonwoo, Jeonghan sits down on the other side of you, crossing his leg over his knee, his arm draped over the back of the sofa behind you.
“You can ask me anything. I’ll answer if I don’t think I’ve ever lied to you, Kitten.” When you and Wonwoo look at him Jeonghan grins and tilts his head, adding, “I’ve skimmed around the truth.”
Shaking your head, you look down at your bag, now resting on your lap. Maybe they were right. Maybe you could still do this; maybe this was a good thing. It could give you an edge. When you nod, your brows furrowing, Jeonghan grins at Wonwoo, lifting his brows.
“Yeah? Not so freaked out by us anymore? Still pretty much the same people you went to school with.”
That made you laugh, both men watching as you cleared your throat to cover it, leaning down to put your bag on the floor, taking out an iPad to take notes on before crossing your legs. Wonwoo can’t help but watch how the fabric of your skirt stretches around your thighs as Jeonghan sucks at his teeth, letting his eyes run along the buttons of your blouse before you look up to meet his eyes.
“You aren’t the same. Isn’t that what we just said? Not in high school anymore. You are... what do you do, Jeonghan?”
You had known Jeonghan was a chaebol but that was such an umbrella term in the business world. He could own a multitude of things and hold many titles. His lips pull up into a smile as his eyes follow your hand, pulling the pen from its holder so you can start taking down your notes.
“My father put me in charge of all the hotels and resorts.”
Writing his name, you start to write what he was telling you when the scale of what he had just said hits you. A soft chuckle to your right brings you back to reality as you shake your head and continue where you left off, muttering under your breath.
“All hotels and the resorts..."
Swallowing hard, you glance at Jeonghan to find his eyes haven't moved from you at all. It was as if he were trying to stare a hole through you or, worse, undress you with his eyes. Quickly looking away, you continue your train of thought into a question.
“In all countries?”
“All hotels and resorts are mine. We own 15 in the United States alone. I plan to open five in Europe over the next three years. There’s a scoop for you, Kitten. Make sure you jot it down.”
Your hand was shaking, and you could see the nerves in your handwriting as you tried to take your notes. It isn't until Jeonghan leans in a bit closer to you to look at what you are writing that you press your lips together and pause.
“Just…Y/N, I think would be better.”
Pursing his lips, Jeonghan meets your eyes once again before giving you a playful smile and leaning back, lifting his hand from his thigh as if he were submitting.
“Whatever you want, Y/N. Kitten is just a hard habit to break.”
Both watch as you flex your fingers and go back to your task, writing a few more notes before looking up to Wonwoo, who is turned more to the side to face you, his legs crossed towards you. He was breath taking, they both were but after years of seeing him on a big screen or a billboard, it was startling to see him so close once again.
“Have a question for me?”
Wonwoo watches you nod, your eyes dropping back to your tablet, before you take a breath and are finally able to remember how to speak.
“Your last movie, First Snow, was a hit.” Watching Wonwoo smile, you can’t help but do the same. You knew he had been nominated for several awards and was likely being cast from the hit. “You seemed to have great onscreen chemistry with your co-star…anything blossoming from that?”
You watch as the man in front of you laughs and shifts on the sofa to brush his hand over his mouth. With a quick shake of his head, Wonwoo’s eyes lift back to meet yours, making you feel shy once again.
“She’s sweet, incredibly so, but no. I do hope I get to work with her in the future but as for my personal life... Things haven’t changed much from when you knew me before.”
That you very much doubted, your brows furrowing as you scoff, jotting down a few more words on the iPad on your lap.
– 11 years ago –
“Just ask her.”
Wonwoo shook his head as he watched you smile at the tall boy with perfect teeth. He might be friends with Mingyu but that didn’t make him want to punch him any less as he and Jeonghan watched him flirt with you and worse, you flirted back.
“She doesn’t know how you feel and that you want her to go with you to the dance if you don’t ask her.”
Groaning, Wonwoo looked at Jeonghan, who had his arms crossed and his tongue pressed into his cheek after saying his own peace when he really had nothing he could say.
“So does that mean you are going to do the same?”
Shooting a look at his friend, Jeonghan rolls his eyes and turns away from the scene in front of him as Mingyu dares to let his fingers brush over yours. He wanted to do more than punch the boy. He wanted to pay him to move to a different school at this point.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one pining like a love sick puppy.”
“Says the dude who just looked like he was going to go in swinging just now.”
Sighing, Jeonghan turns towards his locker, using his fist to open it rather than a normal civil way, before shrugging.
“Whatever. She can do what she wants and so can you. One more year of this hell hole and I’m out of here and on to bigger fish.”
You look up at the sound of Jeonghan’s fist hitting his locker, along with Mingyu's hand dropping from yours, when you mutter your best friend’s name. Everyone knew you were pretty much off limits but every once in a while someone got gutsy and tried. Mingyu had been feeling confident but he hadn’t realized how close Jeonghan and Wonwoo had been.
“I–shit. Can we talk about the dance later, Y/N?”
Watching you frown, barely nodding, Mingyu sighed, knowing his chances were slim to none now as you walked towards the two men who took up most of your time.
“Jeonghan, what the hell are you doing? Did you hurt your hand?”
Your voice pulls Wonwoo and Jeonghan from their conversation and back to reality, where you were standing right in front of them. Starting to speak, Jeonghan tries to come up with an excuse when you grab his hand, bringing it close to you to look over his knuckles to inspect the damage.
Wonwoo just stays quiet for a moment, watching how gentle you are, blowing softly on the rough skin before placing a kiss over his knuckles and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You looked confused. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t like you knew how Jeonghan felt or how Wonwoo felt.
“I’m okay, Kitten. I just couldn’t get the door open, so I got mad.”
Glancing at Wonwoo, you wait for him to tell you the truth but he just sighs and nods along with what Jeonghan says, though you can tell Jeonghan is telling you a half truth. He was good at those and Wonwoo was good at following the leader.
Reaching over to the locker, you pull up on the latch and watch it swing open easily, much to Jeonghan’s dismay. With a sigh, the boy pushes it back closed before leaning his shoulder against it, looking over yours towards Mingyu, who was pouting and watching you while talking to another tall boy named Seokmin.
“Minkyu is waiting for you.”
Sighing, you glance over your shoulder towards him, offering the handsome boy a smile and getting one in return before you cause his to fall instantly when you turn away.
“Mingyu, Jeonghan… but you know that. Why are you so mean to him? He’s nice. He likes you. Wants to be as cool as you.”
Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan lets out a scoff before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you towards the doors that would lead towards your next class but not his. Wonwoo just shakes his head, following in tow, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“He wishes.”
– Present –
“He’s not lying. I’ve probably dated more than him.”
Lifting your head back towards Jeonghan, you feel your stomach tighten at his words. You shouldn’t care if either of them were dating. You were doing your job. This was something that your readers cared about. They didn’t really care about what their jobs were or what they entailed; they wanted to know who they were sleeping with.
“Oh? Currently? On your way to finding Mrs. Yoon?”
Jeonghan’s lips turn up in a smirk before a full grin spreads across his face. He can’t help but see the look on your face when you ask the question. Did you really want an answer to that question?
“No, not even close. Hasn’t been a steady girl in my life since you, Kit–mm, sorry, Y/N.”
Swallowing hard, you push your tongue against your cheek and hum as if that is a normal answer to your question. You write down part of it but omit anything about yourself, which causes Wonwoo to chuckle as he runs his fingers along the back of the sofa.
“Giving the readers hope?”
Jeonghan leans forward at Wonwoo’s comment to read what you have written down. You scoff at his smirk, pulling the tablet back from them both, feeling even more like you were back in high school with them both.
“I–sort of. It’s my job. I’m supposed to give them a raw interview with two fascinating people. I’m supposed to show them the most intimate parts of those people and if there are facts like that, omitting parts that they don’t need to know could be misunderstood –"
You suck in your breath when you feel Jeonghan’s fingers up your arm towards your shoulder as he shakes his head. A soft sigh falls from his lips as he meets your eyes and you try to finish your thought only to lose it midsentence.
“I get it; I do. Your readers are horny. They look at successful people and dream about what it would be like to fuck them. But no matter what you omit, there is still the elephant in the room.”
There was no elephant in the room. The room was clear of any elephants. Shaking your head, you try to ignore his fingers as Jeonghan walks them along your shoulder blade.
“They do like that sort of thing. It sells magazines. So I will omit it. I mean, looking at this objectively, you are both ideal. Incredibly attractive, wealthy, and single.”
Grinning at your reaction and your attempt to ignore him, Jeonghan glances over to Wonwoo, who had been watching you both like a hawk. It was getting interesting.
“That’s kind of you to say, Kitten.”
Blowing out a breath, you shift from Jeonghan’s wandering fingers to shoot a look at Wonwoo when he calls you the nickname. Now they were both teasing you. You were struggling to keep this professional and they knew it. This wasn’t some game like they thought it was. This was your job on the line.
“Not my name, Wonwoo.”
“Is to me, but my apologies, Y/N. Keep going with your questions. What’s next on your list?”
Focus. The word is repeating in your head like a prayer. You look back down at your iPad and lick your lips as you listen to Jeonghan laugh softly next to you. God, he was the same and yet worse in many ways. He was still unbearably confident and cocky but now he was a grown man.
Lifting his hand to rest his thumb against his teeth, Wonwoo watches your eyes narrow at Jeonghan’s reaction. He could tell you were getting annoyed. This was better than high school because he wasn’t that kid who lacked confidence.
"It's... tell me about an important event in your life that led you to where you are today.”
Jeonghan’s brows furrow as Wonwoo tilts his head toward the question. That was a loaded topic. Pursing his lips, you watch as Wonwoo reaches up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he meets your eyes once more.
“Do you remember when you pushed me to try out for that play senior year?”
Your smile causes Wonwoo to mirror you. Of course you remembered it. Wonwoo had been showing interest in acting and it might have been a high school play but he had been too nervous to try it out at first. You could remember going over lines with him for hours before the audition, before you and Jeonghan sat in the auditorium in awe as he took the stage and looked like he had been born to act.
“Really? That’s what led you to this? Playing Tony in West Side Story?”
Still smiling, Wonwoo nods, leaning to rest his head on his palm as his elbow pushes into the back cushion of the sofa. He remembered looking down at you from the stage opening night and finding confidence when his voice wavered. You were more important to him than you would ever know.
“Yeah… Trust me, I don’t put it on my resume.”
A short chuckle from Jeonghan draws your eyes back over to him as he leans his head back, remembering the play and how much you had wanted Wonwoo to do it. You had been good at pushing them to be great; now he was wishing they had done the same for you.
“I can’t imagine why, Wonwoo. Couldn’t be because I still have a shitty copy of you butchering Something’s Coming from opening night.”
Reaching behind you, Wonwoo smacks his best friend, causing the other man to laugh and for you to lean forward, a laugh of your own, slipping from your lips. You could feel your heart tightening in your chest. You had missed Jeonghan and Wonwoo more than you could even admit to yourself.
“You said you deleted it.”
"Yeah, well, I lied. It makes great blackmail for when we are old and decrepit.”
Sitting back up when the men have gone back to their "corners", you just shake your head, putting your pen back on your tablet, and trying to word Wonwoo’s answer in the best way you could without inserting yourself into it.
“What about you, Jeonghan? What led you here?”
Sighing, Jeonghan rolls his eyes—not at you but more at the answer he came up with—before pouting his lips a bit and looking up at the tall celiing.
“I mean, the obvious answer is my father. My family led me here directly but honestly,"
You watch Jeonghan’s face soften, your eyes moving over his sharp jaw as you chew on your lips, until he looks back at you and scoffs again but this time it’s like he has made a discovery.
“You.”
Looking behind you at Wonwoo, you give him a confused look before he shrugs and gestures back at you, sending you back towards Jeonghan, who just smiles fondly.
“I’m serious. Graduation day.”
– 10 years ago –
You watch as Jeonghan flicks the tassel on his graduate cap from one side to the other as he leans back in his chair. Most of the other students had left with their families apart from you, Wonwoo, and Jeonghan. Wonwoo had promised his mom to come home soon but after she saw the look on Jeonghan’s face, she told him to take his time.
“I’m sure there was a reason he wasn’t here, Hannie…”
Rarely did you call Jeonghan anything other than his full name but today called for all the best tactics. Today should be one of the best days of your lives and your best friend was sad. He had been so proud of the honor sash around his shoulders and the speech he was giving but the moment he stepped out on the stage and started to speak, he noticed the space reserved for his father was noticeably empty.
“Sure, Kitten. You don’t have to try so hard to make it better. You didn’t do it.”
He was right. It hadn’t been your fault but there was something you could do to make him smile. Leaning towards Jeonghan, catch his eye before you press a soft kiss to his cheek and hold on to his arm. As much as he denied it, you knew how much he loved skinship when it came from you or Wonwoo.
A sigh falls from Jeonghan’s lips but his lips do pull up at the sides and Wonwoo’s do the same, knowing you were succeeding in what you were trying to do. He hated to see his best friend like this. It wasn’t fair. Jeonghan had worked his ass off to be the perfect son and he deserved so much better today.
“Stop slobbering on me.”
You just laugh, pressing more kisses on his warm cheek. Jeonghan groans, grabbing your arm and turning his head away from you, only for you to turn it back a bit too far, letting your lips catch his briefly. Clearing your throat, you stop instantly and drop your hands, feeling heat rising in your neck and cheeks as you look away.
"Sorry, uh, but no, anyway... We should go get dinner before we all go home. We are fucking graduates. Full ass adults who will be going to university soon.”
Wonwoo just stares at Jeonghan as he sits in shock from feeling your lips on his, even as you try to make everyone forget it had happened. Reaching up to touch his lips, Jeonghan watches you do a cute little dance in your chair before shaking his head and furrowing his brows.
“I gotta get home, Kitten. I’m sure my dad is at home. I need to tell him to shove something up his ass. You know, like his legacy.”
Calming down from your accidental kiss, you shake your head and reach for Jeonghan’s arm as he tries to stand up to leave. You knew he would regret his decisions later. Wonwoo follows your lead, shaking his head and coaxing Jeonghan back into the chair, muttering for the other to calm down.
“I know you are upset, Jeonghan. You have every right to be, but... listen to me, okay? Seriously, look at me.”
You wait until Jeonghan sighs, rolling his eyes to look at you, his face softening as he does, knowing he can’t stay annoyed as he looks at your pretty face.
“If you really don’t want to work for your dad and do the business stuff, then don’t but it’s all you’ve ever talked about. So don’t throw it away because of his selfishness. Use this to fuel yourself to work harder and get what you want. Be the Yoon Jeonghan I know.
– Present –
“I ran off spite for a few years but eventually I got my own space and now I am doing shit on my own. He gave me my own slice, like you said he would. I worked harder every day remembering what you said.”
Jeonghan smiles while watching your lips form into a bit of a pout. He could tell you were remembering the conversation and graduation. He remembered it just as fondly, maybe for other reasons but he also remembered dinner afterwards with you and Wonwoo. He remembered sneaking off with drinks and the promises that all three had failed to keep.
"Anyway, that and a kiss led me here.”
Writing down Jeonghan’s answer, you stop midsentence to scoff and glance up at him, letting out a breath, only to scoff a second time in disbelief. He surely wasn’t talking about the accidental kiss on graduation day.
“Not a real kiss.”
Biting his lip, Jeonghan tilts his head and narrows his eyes as Wonwoo laughs and puts his hands up when you shoot him another look.
“I’m just… listen, Y/N… The kiss was just that—a kiss. And an 18 year old Jeonghan... He talked about it for a while. Trust me.”
That confession from Wonwoo made you look back at Jeonghan, who was narrowing his eyes at his best friend, only to soften them when they met yours. Lifting his hands, Jeonghan sighs once, trying to speak, before sighing again and laughing.
“I did talk about it for a bit. I mean, clearly, I remember it well. I mean, come on, Kitten, you had to know how we felt about you.”
Shaking your head, you sit up straighter on the sofa, looking from Jeonghan to Wonwoo for clarification as if a bomb had just gone off in the room. You knew how you felt about them and that they had teased you about it but never in a million years had you thought they had felt anything for you.
“No, no, no, I didn’t. What? What do you mean by how you felt about me? “We?” Clarify, Yoon Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan laughs when you use his full name and your thoughts start to spin in circles. The interview is the last thing on your mind now. Taking a breath, he reaches forward, taking your iPad from your hands and leaning to put it on the coffee table so he can have your full attention. But that only causes you to flex your fingers and then play with the end of your skirt out of nerves as you wait.
“We went to the same school for four years, Y/N. We saw you every single day and from day one, we latched on to you. At first, it was just because you were this cute frisky girl with a sassy mouth that could keep up but then it was more about the fact that you were ours.” Glancing down at your fingers as you tug at the end of your skirt, Jeonghan reaches to wrap his fingers around your wrist to make you stop as he speaks. “Did you really not see it? How we’d chase off anyone else or get pissed off if you’d give any of them a chance?”
Wonwoo shifts beside you, his breath closer than you had remembered it being when you feel it almost against your ear as his deeper voice chimes in to add to Jeonghan’s point.
“The stupidest thing we did was not keep our promises to keep in touch during university. Letting life get in the way... You feel him smile into his words with how close his lips are to your ear. “But I guess life has a way of correcting mistakes.”
You glance over your shoulder, brows furrowed, ready to ask him what he means when you find Wonwoo as close as you had pictured. If you hadn’t stopped yourself, you would have found yourself in a similar situation that you had on graduation day a decade earlier, as you stopped your lips just in time, taking a breath before they could brush over Wonwoo’s.
“I don’t know. This isn't—I could lose my job.”
It’s Jeonghan’s hand that slides over your thigh, gripping it just hard enough to make you want to spread them, which causes you to lose your resolve and causes a breathy, soft moan to slip from between your lips and into the air. Wonwoo smiles just a few centimeters from your lips as he shakes his head and furrows his brows.
“Fuck the job, fuck the interview. If you want it that bad, you can ask the questions afterwards. If you lose the job, they didn’t deserve you, and we will take care of you or get you whatever job you want, Kitten.”
He wanted you to say yes or take that final step. Wonwoo wasn’t going to do it but he was giving you all the right answers. Whining, you try to quickly weigh the pros and cons, a lifetime of regrets washing over you before they fade away when you close your eyes and press your lips against Wonwoo’s with purpose.
Jeonghan furrows his brows and bites his bottom lip hard. He wasn’t upset that it was Wonwoo you had kissed first this time. It didn’t matter to him; all that mattered was that it was happening. All that mattered was that you were here and back in their lives by some random chance and he wasn’t letting you go again.
Pressing his fingers into your soft skin, Jeonghan groans softly against your hair as your tongue glides along Wonwoo’s and you finally let him coax your legs apart. He could feel the warmth of your pussy under your skirt and he was dying to get his hands on you, even if it was just for a moment.
"Baby, you are so fucking pretty. You always have been but now, God, you're stunning. Never letting you out of my sight again, you understand?”
Reaching up to turn your head from Wonwoo, Jeonghan listens to your whimpers and soft complaints but he wants your answer. When you meet his eyes, Jeonghan runs his thumb along your bottom lip and smiles at your reaction—the way your mouth parts and your eyes flutter closed for a moment only to open and meet his once again.
“I said, do you understand?”
One hand on your chin, the other caresses your thigh up to your panties, where Jeonghan’s fingers tease you, causing your body to jerk with each pass of his fingers. Wonwoo smiles while watching you with Jeonghan, not phased by the other man pulling you away from him. Instead, he turns his attention to your neck as he works a few of the buttons on your blouse open before sliding his hand into your shirt over the top of your bra to squeeze your breast, making you arch against his chest.
“Answer Jeonghan, Kitten.”
They expected you to answer a question and think clearly when you were not only living out your teenage wet dreams but also the fantasies of every female that knew either of their names? Pressing your lips together, you furrow your brows and nod, regaining your resolve, before letting out a breath along with your words.
“I understand.”
Jeonghan grins, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, finally claiming his prize while also rewarding you for your answer. The kiss is gentle, yet you can feel the desire behind it as his teeth catch your bottom lip, nipping at it before he pulls back with a soft groan.
“Good, girl. Wonwoo, I want her up where I can see her.”
You weren’t sure what Jeonghan had meant but apparently Wonwoo did, as you found yourself on your feet before your legs were around the man’s waist so he could carry you where he wanted you. Smirking against your lips, Wonwoo glances behind you, following Jeonghan to the kitchen, stopping to sit you on the counter, where he stays situated between your thighs.
Hands slide over your thighs, and fingers bunch up your skirt, urging you to lift your hips so the material can be pushed to your waist, granting you a peck on the lips from Wonwoo. You watch as the man groans, glancing down between your legs, his left hand gripping your thigh as his right thumb traces the growing wet spot on the center of your panties.
“So wet already. Did you ever think about doing this? You can tell me, Kitten. I won’t tell anyone else.”
The teasing tone in his deep voice makes your breath quicken as Wonwoo steps back and you watch him pull his dress shirt from his pants. His slender fingers move over the buttons with quick precision so he can pull them from his body and toss them to the floor, leaving him shirtless in front of you.
“I–”
The words get caught in your throat as you stare at Wonwoo, your eyes moving over his toned abdomen and chest. You had seen him shirtless in school and then in ads and movies but you had never imagined you would see him like this.
“Words, baby, use them.”
Jeonghan smirks, running his fingers over your hair as he stands beside you, watching you panic over Wonwoo. He was still fully dressed, though one glance at his dress pants told you he was just as aroused as you and Wonwoo.
“I did, many times, but I always felt bad.”
You hear Jeonghan coo, then feel his lips press against your jaw as you lean your head to the side, watching Wonwoo lean over to kiss your thighs. His fingers scratch along your thighs up to your hips before they finally press under the elastic of your pants and start to shimmy them down your legs to your feet.
“You didn’t have to feel bad. I was doing the same thing and I know Wonwoo was too. We will just make up for lost time, right?”
Jeonghan whispers the last of his words against your ear and you can only moan out a yes to not only the feeling of his hot breath against the shell of your ear, but also Wonwoo’s tongue running along your slit in one fluid motion.
Leaning your head back, you gasp out Wonwoo’s name, reaching your hand down to thread your fingers through his wavy hair as Jeonghan smirks against your ear at your reaction. Glancing between your legs to watch, he furrows his brows, feeling his cock throb in his pants, not only to the visual of Wonwoo eating you out but also to the sounds coming out of your mouth and the wet sound of Wonwoo’s mouth on your pussy.
“Fuck… He’s right; you are wet. Can I feel too?”
Slipping his fingers between your folds and Wonwoo’s mouth, Jeonghan is surprised that your thighs jerk to his touch. That wasn't your reaction to Wonwoo. Lifting his head, Wonwoo holds your legs and takes a breath as Jeonghan’s fingers circle your clit, only for you to moan and slide your hips back from his touch shyly.
“Your fingers are so cold."
Jeonghan smiles, tilting his head and pulling his fingers back to rub them together, feeling your slick between them. He knew his hands were cold but he hadn’t expected you to have such a reaction to them. Glancing down at Wonwoo, Jeonghan just winks, turning from you both towards the cabinet to take down a glass and moving to the fridge to get ice and water as Wonwoo’s lips press to your thighs, making you split your attention between the two.
“What are you doing, Jeonghan?”
“Having fun, Kitten. What are you doing?”
Your eyes follow Jeonghan as he sits the glass down beside you before dipping two of his fingers into the ice water. His eyes meet yours as a darker smirk takes over his pretty lips and you whine, feeling Wonwoo’s mouth back on your pussy, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling you back towards his tongue.
“I–shit. What if I can’t handle it?”
Jeonghan bites at his lip, the smile ever present, as he finally takes his fingers from the cold water.
“Just tell me and I’ll move them, but I’ll make it worth it. I promise… Wonwoo, lean back.”
Hearing his name, Wonwoo groans a bit frustrated, already feeling drunk off your pussy. He wanted to make you cum on his tongue and with how you had started to moan, he felt like you were getting close. Still, he wasn’t going to argue with Jeonghan so he licks his lips and leans back a few inches to watch Jeonghan touch his ice cold fingers to your clit and your reaction as you try to close your thighs around his head and the fingers.
“Oh my god!”
The cold sends a shock through your body that you weren’t fully expecting and when Jeonghan traps your clit between two fingers, squeezing it ever so slightly, you feel like the counter is going to break under your fingers.
“Jeon—Jeonghan!”
As quickly as you say his name, Jeonghan moves his fingers and uses his free hand to push Wonwoo’s head back to your waiting pussy. You feel hot breath and a warm tongue running over your now chilled folds. Smiling against your skin at the feeling, Wonwoo can’t help the excitement he feels at working together with Jeonghan. He enjoys making you feel good, especially as you grind against his mouth.
“See? You liked it, didn’t you?”
All you can do is nod as you feel your orgasm on the precipice. Jeonghan watches your face and listens to your breath starting to hitch when he tugs at Wonwoo’s hair, pulling him back, and listens to your curses as your orgasm is pulled from you.
Ice cold fingers slide between your folds and towards your dripping entrance, where Jeonghan works two into you, curling them upwards. Quickly, you forget how upset you are at him as you see stars and your nails dig into his forearm, cum seeping around his fingers as your orgasm takes control of your senses.
Wonwoo just watches, entranced by what is happening as your thighs start to shake and Jeonghan’s fingers thrust into you. He watches as you roll your hips towards the man’s palm and Jeonghan groans your name like a soft, sweet prayer.
“Here… I know you want it.”
Nodding, Wonwoo leans forward, licking the cum from Jeonghan’s fingers before grabbing your hips again and running his tongue along your folds, cleaning you of every last trace of your cum. Your mind spins with what you have just experienced and watched as you find yourself leaning back on the counter, your chest rising and falling quickly.
It is Jeonghan who pulls Wonwoo from between your thighs as you whimper from overstimulation, tears running from the corners of your eyes. It isn’t even that he’s concerned that you aren’t enjoying it; it is more that he doesn’t want his friend to miss the image.
Wonwoo just groans, running his palm over his wet mouth and chin before leaning down over you and the counter to capture your lips. His thumb is running along your temple to push away the tears as he mutters against your lips about never leaving you and never losing you again.
“Mm, see, he shares the sentiment, Kitten. We have to get you to bed or I’m gonna fuck you on the counter.”
You weren’t against it but it seemed both of the men were. You quickly found yourself moving through rooms and on a large bed, then stripped of your clothing. Jeonghan was the one between your thighs now; his clothes were also discarded with yours somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom. He let his eyes move over your body in wonder as his hands followed the same path as if he were trying to imprint it on his brain.
“So perfect… and ours?”
In truth, your relationship status hadn’t been discussed before any of this started and also Jeonghan hadn’t cared. Now, with you lying on his bed, looking like every dream he had ever had of you, as Wonwoo slid in beside you to press his lips to the top of your breasts, he was starting to wonder if you really would be there at the end of the day.
“Yours.”
A single word left Jeonghan breathless. He hadn’t seen any rings on any important fingers but he hadn’t been in your life in a long time. He didn’t know what your life was without him but now, as far as he was concerned, there wouldn’t be a time without you.
"Fuck, I need you. Can I?”
You lift your hips as Jeonghan’s hands slide along your inner thighs and along your legs to your hips. You knew what he was asking and there was nothing you wanted more. Nodding, you whine into a moan as Wonwoo sucks at your skin, your fingers once again threading into his hair and tugging at his scalp.
Lining himself up with you, Jeonghan shakes his head, realizing what was really happening and how lucky he was as he slowly pushes his tip in. With his eyes on your face, Jeonghan watches your lips fall open at the stretch, his fingers digging into your skin as he angles his hips, feeling your soft, warm walls enclose around his cock.
“Feel good, Kitten?”
Wonwoo smiles against your skin as he speaks between kisses, working them up your breasts towards your neck. Wonwoo nods along with you, feeling Jeonghan’s hips meet yours as he bottoms out. The stretch is delicious and your brain is a mixture of spinning and empty. While your brain wants to freak out over what's happening, the only thing you can do is just feel and enjoy the drag of Jeonghan’s cock as he starts to thrust into you at an even pace.
His head falling forward as he pulls your hips up more, bracing your weight with his hands, Jeonghan quickens his pace, feeling your pussy throbbing around his length. You already felt better than he had ever imagined and he had dreamed about it many times before. He had tried to substitute the dream girl in his head before and none of them were living up to this now. There was only you and he could already feel himself tightening up from his stomach to his thighs.
“God, baby… cum on my cock. Give me that. At least once.”
Jeonghan had said you were theirs but just in case this was a one time thing, he needed to feel you cum around him at least once in his life. Sliding his right hand between your legs, he uses his thumb to massage your clit in tight circles while watching you throw your head back and your fingers scratch at the bedding. Jeonghan just groans your name as he feels your walls tighten around him and then the warm, slick feeling of your cum makes each of his thrusts all that more delicious.
A moment later, you feel your ass lowered back to the bed and Jeonghan pulls from you before his warm cum paints your thighs. The sound of his soft grunts and groans dances off the walls like music as your eyes move over his body to his hand. You watch as his fists over his cock hard and fast for a moment longer before he lets out a long, soft breath. Smiling, Jeonghan feels your leg running along the side of his when he opens his eyes to find you and Wonwoo looking at him.
“I made a mess. I can start the shower…”
You can only laugh as Jeonghan rolls from the bed, leaving you in Wonwoo’s arms, his lips gently pressing to the side of your neck. Wonwoo’s brows furrow and a groan slips from between his lips as your fingers wrap around his heavy cock, lazily stroking him as the sounds of water drift in from the attached bathroom.
“I’m too wound up, Y/N… I won’t last long. Shit…”
Pressing your thumb against his slit, you take your hand away, leaving Wonwoo breathless as you sit up and take his hand, pulling him from the bed. A look of confusion in the man’s eyes, along with a slight pout on his lips from seemingly being denied, is replaced by a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you as Jeonghan lifts a brow to the scene in front of him.
With your hand back around Wonwoo’s shaft, you feel him gasp into your mouth as you pull away from him once again and smile at Jeonghan as he opens the shower door for you, letting you and Wonwoo in first before following.
“You are being mean to Wonwoo, Kitten... after he cleaned you up so nicely with his mouth?”
“I’ll make it better, promise.”
Jeonghan starts to speak but is rendered speechless when you move to your knees in the shower in front of Wonwoo, who silently curses, lifting his hand to run it through his hair. With the water running along his back, Wonwoo leans his head back into the stream of water with a long, deep groan when you wrap your lips around his head and take him into your warm mouth.
He had wanted to fuck you but this would work too. Unlike Jeonghan, he was almost certain this wasn’t a one time thing. He was going to make sure of it, especially now as your pretty hand stroked his cock under your mouth as you moaned around him. He had told you he was wound up and he hadn’t been lying.
“Shit… shit! Too good… babe. Gonna cum. Slow down.”
You had no intention of slowing down. You wanted Wonwoo to cum. Just as much as he wanted to taste you, you wanted to taste him. So when he told you to slow down, instead you moved your hand and took him as deep in your mouth as you could, letting his tip nearly graze your throat. The action pushes Wonwoo over the edge, his hands gripping for whatever is closest, one being your hair and the other being Jeonghan’s arm, as he cums hard into your mouth.
Closing your eyes, you moan around Wonwoo as you pull back to just his tip, letting the last of his cum drip into your mouth before you sit back on your feet and swallow most of it, just a bit seeping from the corner of your lips. Jeonghan stares at Wonwoo for a moment longer before looking down at you and groaning, feeling blood start to work its way back to his cock when he seems cum dripping down to your chin.
Tugging his hand free from Wonwoo’s grasp, Jeonghan takes a deep breath, reaching down to swipe his thumb over your chin, collecting the cum, before pushing it back into your mouth and letting you suck it clean. Willing himself to not get hard becomes even harder as he curses under his breath and smiles at you in disbelief. You were even more perfect than he had dreamed.
“Both of us made a mess of you, Kitten. Only fair we clean you up, huh?”
Your cheeks warm as you come down from the high of everything that had happened. You look at both of the men as Wonwoo helps you back to your feet. His hand runs over your back, spreading body wash, as Jeonghan does the same to your front, paying extra attention to your thighs where his cum still lingered.
“This is crazy…”
Jeonghan’s brow shoots up at your soft words like a puppy hearing a new word. You were starting to panic. The shock was setting in. Shaking his head, the man steps closer, running his hands over your arms before leaning in to gently press a kiss on your lips.
“It’s not. It makes sense. We’ve always made sense. We were just too young and dumb to realize this. We just had to meet again in a different life to see it.”
Pouting on Jeonghan’s lips, you feel Wonwoo’s body close to yours; neither man is willing to let you run away from them, knowing you too well despite all the years of separation. You wanted to believe this could work. You wanted it to work. Sighing, you lean your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder, letting Jeonghan look at you with a soft smile on his lips as you speak.
“I’m so getting fired.”
Laughing at your words, Jeonghan shrugs, running his hands along your wet arms as Wonwoo smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek and hugging you tighter to him. Lifting his hand, Jeonghan pinches your cheek like he had so many times in high school to tease you, feeling your warm cheek under his touch.
“I might be biased but I think we are worth it.”
© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed
#jeonghan smut#wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#svthub#svt smut#jeonghan x reader#wonwoo x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#jeonghan x wonwoo
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Mirrorball | John Price x F!Reader
a/n: me?? posting??? in this economy?? unheard of. this is definitely not me writing needy price whaaaat
warnings: mentions of injury, trauma
summary: You’re trying to sleep, but someone wakes you up with a long awaited phone call. OR, John’s outside of your door, begging for forgiveness.
It was a work day tomorrow and someone had the audacity to call you in the middle of the night. Your eyes tried to blink away the murkiness of sleep as you answered the call, not even paying attention to the ‘Unknown Caller’ blinking at the top of the screen.
“Hey.”
Your head fell back into your pillow, your hand holding your phone to your ear.
“Yes, John.”
“Don’t be that way.”
Your hand gripped your phone a little more, now that you were waking up more.
“Well, seeing that it’s…” You pulled the phone from your ear, looking at the time on the screen, “2:45 in the morning on a Tuesday, you’re only calling ‘cause you’re bored.”
There was a scoff on the line. “Why can’t you just accept that maybe I’m worried about you?”
Your eyes were still closed, your eyebrows furrowed and you mumbled, “Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.”
There was silence. Just the warmth that flooded through your chest every time you heard his low breathing; a signal, a waypoint, your reminder that no matter how much you want to turn away, there’s no escape from your desperate need for John Price. Your fingernails dug into your pillowcase, tears that have broken glass now soak the silk underneath your head. You could almost smell the rich tobacco that seemed to envelop his clothes and his worn skin - he was the feeling of sunlight reflected on shattered glass. Shining just for you.
You could imagine his hand curling your hair behind your ear, his soft lips pressing kisses into your hairline, your shoulder, your spine. You had memorized the way his hand would gently graze over your side, featherlight movement as he would whisper his promises, his mantras, but ignore your desires.
“M’here.”
Even in your half-asleep state, you felt a rush of confusion.
“You were in Afghanistan last night.”
“I lied.”
“You seem to do that often, John.”
Silence again. Your eyes opened to your dimly light room, the small light plugged into your wall helped you make out everything in your room. The jacket of his that still was tossed over the back of your favorite chair, most of his clothes hung in your closet - deep browns and dreary grays that were pressed against your bright blues, greens, and yellows. His breathtaking fiancé dressed in all of the colors that made you feel happy - but all were a farce, a lie wrapped up in a fairy tale. You weren’t happy. How could you be happy when your whole world decided to break your heart?
“Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up, John. I mean it.”
Silence. You could hear the quiet bustle of Liverpool outside your window, the street lamp’s warm light hidden by your dark curtains. Curtains he used to move at this time of night to open your window, he would burn the end of his cigar and watch the city lights.
Now, he stood outside your front door, without even a knock.
“What I did to you wasn’t right, I knew that then and I know that now. Screaming at you and telling you I never wanted to see you again was the biggest mistake of my life. I love you. And love isn’t supposed to be like that. I-I was… I was scared. I am scared. I’m scared of what you think of me, I was scared of what almost happened to me, I’m terrified to lose you.”
“Stop.”
“Please. I’m here.”
“What do you want, John?”
“I want come home.“
Another pause.
“Please let me in.”
Your stomach lurched.
You hated that you sat up, lethargic body dragged behind your mind as you silently made your way to your front door; cold phone pressed to your ear. He was a warm light, you were like a late night moth - hearing the familiar hum of one John Price.
“I’ll do anything, love. Please.”
You stretched your arms as you stood on your tallest tip toes, it reminded you of spinning on your highest heels, just for him. You could remember his hands, gentle on your hand and waist as he had laughed deeply in that ballroom all those years ago. The way his touch never differed from anything gentle or soft, even as he held your hips in late nights, pulling loud moans and cries from you as he fucked you passionately. The way he whispered your name like gospel as you sobbed into his chest. It was impossible to forget what he’s done for you - and what actions he made that caused you pain.
He was made of a broken spotlight, his light reflected on you. Your mirror pieces had fell long ago, your fingers still bleed from picking up your shards, from pressing them into place so when he came around, you would reflect his slowly dimming light just like a mirror ball.
Your hand pulled open the door, gazing at the man you so painstakingly loved - face dirty, scarf disheveled around his neck, beanie snug on his head. You didn’t care that his rough hands gripped your hips, metaphorically pressing in the glass shards like always. He pulled you to him, your face landed in his scarf as he wrapped you in his freezing embrace. You moved to rest your chin on top of the scratchy wool, your lips right next to his ear.
“Are you hurt?”
He walked both of you into the apartment, skillfully kicking the door closed as he held you tighter. A fist on your lower back, a steel grip on your shoulder as his nose was firmly pressed into your (bonnet/hair). You could feel his chest, how it didn’t dare expand - he was holding his breath. As if he let you slip, that the mirrorball he adored would shatter into a thousand pieces. Your hand pushed into the back of his ribcage, moving in soothing circles.
“Breathe, John.”
You expected a harsh exhale, something loud in your ear, but all you received was a soft sigh through his nose. The freezing clothes that clung to him began to warm, his heartbeat erratic - you could feel it in his back, right behind his heart.
“Are you hurt?” You asked again.
He didn’t answer, silence was his weapon of choice now. He was full of words on the phone, telling you things you wished to hear earlier - oh shit, your phone. The phone you dropped on the floor before opening the door, hopefully it wasn’t broken. You had so many of him on there. So many photos of him hanging off your arm, lips pressed against your soft skin, eyes gazing lovingly at you.
“What do you need?”
You need me. I know you like the back of my hand.
That’s when he let go, pulling away from you to show fresh tears on his flushed face. Your eyes widened with concern, you tried to reach his face but his hands intercepted yours - holding them with a firm grip.
“I don’t need you to forgive me.” His voice was melancholy, a melody of grief and fear that you had never heard before. “I am an awful man. Rubbish. I hurt the one good thing in my life because I thought you hating me would be easier for me to die with.”
Your stomach coiled up into a knot, tight and uncomfortable.
Your fiancé held back a sob as he spoke, “I got hit. I almost died, all I could think about was how much you would hate yourself because I made you hate me. I don’t want that. I want to be by your side forever, I want you to put me in my place, I want you to take everything from me because I am not worthy of anything without you.” His hands squeezed yours. “I want to lay beside you for as long as I live. I want to only know you for the rest of my life. I want to do everything you ask of me.”
“What do you need, John?” Your voice softer than ever before.
He blinked away tears. “I need you to teach me how to truly be a better man. I need you to guide me. I need you to love me. I need you.”
You had told yourself a thousand times that he would never crawl on his knees to you, that his pride would destroy you, that he would never show weakness to you - but here he was. Showing his belly, giving you the chance to deliver the final blow.
You supposed he was waiting for it. Waiting for your teeth to sink in and rip him apart like a chew toy, scream at him until your voice ran hoarse, push him away until he fell onto his ass. But… you couldn’t. You were ready to walk away from him ten minutes ago, but now it’s… terrifying. Walking away from the one thing keeping you whole.
You squeezed his hands. “Marry me, John Price.”
His eyebrows furrowed, he was about to question you. But you spoke again. “Marry me today and show me that all that you said was a promise.”
He didn’t nod for long as he let go of your hands, grabbed your face and kissed you - pushing your head backwards as he pressed his entire body to you. You didn’t care anymore if he cut himself on your glass, you were sure he would fix the edge just to keep you happy.
Keep you spinning like his favorite mirrorball, shining just for him.
Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.
#lethalchiralium#keri writes#call of duty#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#john price x female reader#john price x f!reader#captain price#captain price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x female reader#captain price x f!reader#captain john price x female reader#captain john price x f!reader
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How would be a date with Love and Deepspace boys be like?
𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋
The bright, warm sunlight of a summer day shines in the sky, while the smell of the salty ocean air fills the air. A picnic blanket is underneath the beach. Purple flowers were scattered across the blanket. Your favorite foods are all on the blanket, along with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Both of you are painting together on the beach.
You stare at Rafayel, and out of nowhere you have an idea, and then, taking the brush in your hand, you slowly paint red on Rafayel's nose. "Ha! Gotcha!” You laugh, smiling, seeing Rafayel staring at you in shock, not knowing what to say. Noticing the silence, you notice his ears turning red.
“Did you did that because you wanted to see my beauty with paint in my face, is it? You can stare at me my muse as much as you want." He takes your hand, bringing it close to his lips and kissing it. ”No one can compare to the work of art you are.”
Feeling your cheeks blush, you look away, sighing, "Should I remind you of the time we were on a boat then? That's truly a work of art!" All the affection that was on his face turned into a perplexed look as he blushed embarrassedly. “You wouldn't do that, right?”
"Hmm. What a shame I exactly painted that.” Hearing this, Rafayel tries to take the canvas from your hand, but you react before him taking the canvas fast in your hands, moving it, and starting to run away from him, laughing while he runs and catches you hugging you from behind. "Wait! Wait! I surrender! You won, just don't show it to anyone, okay?”
Showing the canvas to Rafayel, realizing that you painted the ocean and not him, he ends up sighing and stopping hugging you while his ears blush. "You're such a liar... As revenge I will tickle you!" He pushes you, falling on top of you on the picnic blanket, making tickles on you.
Your laughter fills the air. Suddenly, without warning, he leans and catches you off guard with a gentle kiss. A smile spreads across his face as he looks into your eyes and whispers, "I love you." You can't help but blush at his words. The sincerity in his voice and the tenderness of his touch make your heart swell with love. You find yourself gazing back into his eyes, unable to contain the feeling of adoration for this Rafayel. "I love you too." You smile as he leans in closer to you, your foreheads touching each other, he leans peppering all your face with kisses, eliciting giggles from you.
𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑
A pizza is on the table, as are a bottle and two glasses of coke, candles arranged in the shape of a heart, and flowers. You're both staring at the TV, ready to watch the movie.
“Is that on the TV screen a wanderer?" Xavier stares at the TV confused, and you can't stop yourself from laughing as he raises an eyebrow. “It's not that...?” Hearing his question, you slowly stop laughing but end up smiling.
“Xavier, this is a robot from the movie; it looks realistic, but it looks very interesting, right?” Xavier stares at the TV in silence and stares at you. "This movie is really interesting... A robot, huh?”
Xavier takes a piece of pizza and watches the movie in silence, and you do the same. As time passes, you hear a sound of crying, and looking at Xavier, you can see him crying. "Xavier, are you okay? What was it?" You decide to place your hand on his cheeks, wiping the tears from his face.
Xavier stares at you "The story is so sad... Why did the robot have to sacrifice himself? Even though he's a robot he has feelings, sorry it seems like I got carried away…” He puts his head on your shoulder while you pat his head.
He leans into the touch and looks at you. “Are you feeling better now?” He nods, and you pick up the remote control, pressing play as the movie continues now. You and Xavier discuss the movie as you watch, and he slowly places his hand over yours, intertwining your fingers together as he stares at you, and then you feel your face turn a little red.
"I love you." You blink in surprise at the sudden confession, making you blush, and then you smile, "I love you too, Xavier." You kiss him on the cheek, and he chuckles embarrassed as he He slowly falls asleep with his head on your shoulder. As the night falls and the songbirds die out, It feels like there’s only us two in this world. Under the roof, just two of us become one, entangled together, loving each other, and before you know it, you're with your head on top of him as you both sleep.
𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄
You have blue flowers by your side as you both eat at the restaurant, talking, but then Zayne stares at you, and only his eyebrows go a little. "Why aren't you touching the broccoli...? Don't you like broccoli?” You look at Zayne and then give a nervous smile. "Well, I don't like broccoli.” Before you could make an excuse, you felt him sighing, "Please eat, broccoli will do you good. They are good for your health.”
You see Zayne pick up a broccoli fork and place it in front of your mouth. "Let's just have a bite, okay? Please?" You feel yourself blushing with embarrassment at the act, and slowly opening your mouth, eating the broccoli makes you grimace.
Seeing this, Zayne decides to take some pasta on his fork and puts it in front of your mouth, and you slowly eat it, blushing. "That's a little embarrassing.” Hearing this, he glares at you and says, "Why would that be embarrassing? You don't like broccoli?”
You laugh "Well, it's true, but you suddenly started feeding me and taking care of me. I think it made me nervous. I wouldn't have imagined you would be that affectionate, Zayne.” Zayne looks away as his eyebrows furrow. "Do I really not look that affectionate?”
You nod, eating some pasta and smiling at Zayne. "You always seem serious; I would never imagine that about you, it's kind of cute. Now I hope it's my turn to make this for you." You wrap the pasta around your fork and slowly put it near his mouth, and Zayne looks at you a little surprised, and then he sighs.
You end up noticing that the carrots on Zayne's plate are untouched, and so you say, "Zayne, you haven't touched the carrot yet. Do you happen to not like carrots?" You smile seeing Zayne freeze, and then placing a piece of carrot on your fork, you place it in front of his mouth. "Come on, eat some hm?" Zayne stares at the carrot in silence and hesitantly eats it, frowning a little.
Slowly, he tilts his head and bites the pasta on his fork, letting you feed him again, and it's almost not noticeable. He blushes a little, but his cheeks return to normal easily. "So what does it taste like?" He leans back into the chair. "Good..." Hearing him whisper you smile at Zayne and say, "I love you." He looks at you, and for a moment, his lips curve upward, saying, "I love you too.” This is how your date with Zayne continues at the restaurant, and talking about various topics.
#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace imagines#love and deepspace fluff#rafayel love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel x you#xavier x you#zayne x you#rafayel fluff#xavier fluff#zayne fluff
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Your Hands
Summary: Joe’s hands are one of your many weaknesses. He is your weakness in only the best ways possible.
Warnings: ✨smut✨ and a little bit of fluff of course
You were craving attention, you were craving attention from your man, a specific kind of attention, but any kind would do for now.
Joe was in the office, working away at lord knows what. Probably rewatching highlights, videos from OTAs, etc. So you open the slightly cracked door and he was watching his Mac screen with an apple pen in his hand.
Joe looks up at you and a small smile graces his face.
“Hey you” he says before writing something down onto his iPad before looking back up at you.
“Hey” you smile back.
“You okay? Do you need help with anything?” He asks, lovingly.
“No, just, wanting to be near you” you say softly and he smiles at you and motions you to come in. You go and sit down in the chair in front of his desk and prop your feet up onto it.
He reaches across the desk and squeezes your ankle before going back to what he was doing which was exactly what you thought, watching videos from practice and writing down things he needs to work on.
You watch his hands as he writes on his iPad and when he twirls the pen between his fingers as he watches film. The way his fingers moved with ease and the way his veins in his hand danced every time he moved his fingers. You squeezed your thighs together, thinking about those fingers touching you, teasing you, inside you. He was turning you on and not even really doing anything, he was always good at that.
You get up from the chair and walk around the desk to him, turning his chair slightly towards you and you take your place on his lap and wrapping your arm around his shoulders. He chuckles up at you and wraps his arm around your waist, squeezing you and placing a kiss on your cheek.
“I think you want to be inside my skin” he smirks at you and you shrug your shoulders.
“Something like that” you wink and run yours fingers through his hair and press a kiss to his pretty lips.
He continues watching his screen and he rests his hand on your thigh, massaging your soft skin, as yours danced on the back of his neck.
It was normal for him to touch you like this, just out of habit, but little did he know you were getting worked up watching those damn hands move.
You weren’t as slick as you thought you were when it came to keeping how you were feeling hidden away. Joe could easily read your emotions, especially after being together as long as you two have, he knew how you were feeling before you even knew.
He felt you shift in his lap, the muscles in your thighs tightening from squeezing them together. He listened to your breathing and how it would keep ramping up along with your heart rate. He smirked to himself, knowing something has got you worked up, that you wanted to be near him but not in the innocent way he thought.
He paused his video and looked up at you, his bright blue eyes getting darker by the second.
“You okay? Do you need help with anything?” He repeats what he asked earlier but his voice now low and dark.
“Um, no, I’m good” you smile at him as best you can, the look in his eyes making your thoughts worse.
“I think you’re lying” his hand slides inbetween your thighs, but keeping his distance from the place you really wanted his hands to be.
“Joe-“
“Want to tell me what’s got you so worked up?” He leans in so his lips are brushing yours, feeling his breath on your face. God, he’s so hot.
“So I can give you what you want? What you need? Hm?” He slides his hand slightly higher up your thigh.
“Your hands” you breathe out, trying not to moan.
“Hm” he smiles smugly, squeezing your thigh with one of them.
“They always seem to be on your mind” he smirks, picking you up and setting you on top of the desk, shoving his iPad and other things out of the way.
His hands rest on your thighs, squeezing them as he presses a slow kiss to your lips.
“You are always on my mind” you admit against his lips.
“And you on mine”
He cups your cheeks and smashes his lips against yours, you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth at the contact. One of his hands slide down your abdomen and ghosts over your clothed core. You groan, wanting him to touch you. He slips his tongue into your mouth as his hand finally makes contact with your center, rubbing gentle circles over your clothed clit. You moan loudly, twirling your tongue around his and bucking your hips against his hand.
“Lift up” he orders against your lips.
You lift up your hips as he pulls your shorts down, pleased when only your shorts were between him and her.
“Love when you do that shit” he smirks, throwing your shorts on the floor.
“I know” you smirk and he raises his eyebrows at you. He looks down at you, dripping onto the desk.
“Damn baby, care if I have a taste?” He asks and you nod, giving permission.
Joe grabs your hips and scoots you more to the edge of the desk, making you squeal.
“I’ve got you” he assures you, getting down onto one of his knees, spreading your thighs apart, opening you up and leaving nothing to hide. Joe looks up at you and smiles.
“You are fucking gorgeous” he tells you and your heart swells, along with the need for him.
He places your feet on his shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs before licking a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hiss at the blinding pleasure.
“Taste so good, babe” he moans against you, making your hips buck at the vibrations.
He flicks his tongue against your clit making you become a moaning mess above him. He then slips his tongue into your entrance.
“Oh shit” you whimper, your mouth falling open as he continues to thrust his tongue into you.
“Oh Joe, I’m gonna cum” you whine.
He then slips his tongue out of you, despite your protest, and presses a kiss to your clit before standing up and pressing his lips to yours again. His tongue meeting yours, moaning when you taste yourself. That’s some hot shit.
“As much as I love to make you cum with my tongue, you had a specific request that I want to make sure I follow through with” he smirks before slipping one of his thick fingers into you without warning.
“Ohhh fuck” you groan. Joe rests his forehead against yours and smiles.
“You’re so tight, babe” Joe couldn’t help but moan.
He slips a second finger into you and you gasp. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, trying to slowly build you back up.
“Want a third one?” He asks against your lips and you answer with a whimper.
He slides a third finger into you, your mouth falling open. You look down at his hand, with his fingers sliding in and out of you.
“Oh fuuuuuckkkk, Joe”
The way his arm flexed, the way the veins in his arms moved as he thrusted his fingers into you made you hot all over.
Joe started to curl his fingers inside of you, pressing into the soft tissue that made the pleasure even more intense, causing you to lose the strength to hold yourself up anymore. Joe catches you and holds your body against him.
“Joe I-“
“Cum all over my fingers, baby” he whispers into your mouth.
When he feels you clinch around his fingers, he kisses you roughly but full of passion and love. He rubs his palm against your clit and that did it for you. You scream into his mouth and you release all over his hand and onto the desk below you.
“That’s it baby” Joe pulls away, talking you down after your intense orgasm, and looks down between you two, his hand drenched in your juices.
“You are so hot” he smiles. He lifts his hand up to his mouth and sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, cleaning your essence off of them. You try to catch your breath as you watch him.
Damn it, Joe. You’re getting me hot again. You think to yourself.
He brings his index finger up to your lips. You immediately take his thick digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. He watches you intently, his blue eyes watching your lips, your eyes as you look up at him through your lashes.
“I am so in love with you” he breathes out.
“And I you” you smile, kissing his ski-slope nose.
He jogs out of the room, only to come back with a warm wash cloth, gently cleaning you up, along with the desk.
“Thank you, for that” you sigh, finally catching your breath.
“Always gotta help my girl out” he winks.
You look down at his shorts, the tent in his pants looking unbearable.
“Now I think you need some help” you hop off the desk, your legs shaking and almost giving out on you, Joe, of course, being there to catch you in his strong arms.
“Let me take care of this for you” you look into his pretty eyes, your hand cupping him through his shorts.
“I won’t say no to that” he smiles.
You push him down into the desk chair and on your knees to worship his beautiful chiseled body you went, as it should be worshipped.
#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#long hair joe#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow fic#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow smut#joe burrow imagine
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4:17 AM ー shinsou hitoshi
genre: fluff, heavy comfort in the end, self-indulgent !!
cw: (1) mention of "ma'am" i'm so sorry it sounded cute i couldn't help it. that's the only gendered term here tho :') this is for all u tired smarty pants girlies im giving u a bf who'll stay up with u 😡
shinsou hitoshi's favorite thing to do is staying up with you throughout every single one of your all-nighters.
whether it's for an exam, a shit ton of homework, or a group project which, for some reason, you're finishing all by yourselfー he's plopped there on your bed, perfectly behaved and quiet as you threatened asked him to be.
when you ask him why he's so insistent on accompanying you during these ungodly hours when you can't even give him a scrap of your attention at all due to your heavy workload, he simply shrugs and says:
"'ts fine. can't sleep in my own room anyway." hitoshi's lips slightly curve into a smirk. "plus, i like watching over you. you pout when you're focusedー did you know that? cutest shit ever."
you roll your eyes as you turn back to your laptop, frowning at the heaps of unfinished work left. "well, if you bother me, i'm throwing you out of my room, alright?"
"yes, ma'am." he obliges. "coffee service is an exception though, right? back rubs too... if that's not a bother."
you whip your head back at him with tearful puppy eyes of gratitude. it's taking everything in you not to mount your boyfriend right now and pepper his face with little kisses.
he snorts at your adorable expression.
"stop. don't look at me like that. i'm gonna want to snuggle with you, and you won't get any work done." he chuckles softly as you swivel your chair back to your desk. "let me know if you want anything else."
a few hours and two cups of coffee later, he's still there, watching as you hunch over your desk, nimble fingers typing incessantly on your laptop with the occasional cursing of familiar names under your breathー he's guessing you're carrying a whole group project by yourself again.
he glances at the time on his phone, and being the ridiculously observant boyfriend that he is, he knows the exact second you're about to say:
"okay!" you hoist yourself up, slamming your hands on your desk. it doesn't startle your poor boyfriend anymore at this point.
"power nap?" he guesses.
"just for 20 minutes."
"alright, c'mere."
you collapse into his open arms, melting into him as he instinctively starts rubbing circles on your back. he peeks at your already closed eyes. "hey, you set a timer yet?"
your eyes snap open, "oh right." you pull out your phone and clumsily make a few taps before you toss it away, not even bothering to turn it off. "'kay done. g'night."
hitoshi glances at the bright screen. "uh. sorry to break it to you, y/n, but i don't think typing typing '430' on your calculator's gonna wake you up."
"fuck." you jolt up and grab your phone again.
hitoshi watches as you make a second attempt to set an alarm, which seems to have magically disappeared from your phone.
"that's... that's the calendar, babe."
and then another attempt,
"you're dialing 430?"
"well, i can't find the damnー" you shove the phone to him and whine, "you do it!"
he snickers before pulling you closer, caging you in his long limbs and obligingly pulling the phone from your hands "alright, alright. i'll wake you up. you just take a nap right here, hm?" he gently pats your cheek twice before kissing your forehead. hitoshi has always had a habit of babying you when you're all sleepy and snug like this.
he doesn't actually let the alarm go off. you're obviously exhausted, burnt out, and a tad irritatedー the last thing you ever need is having your power nap cut short with that god-awful noise.
instead, you're woken up by your boyfriend rhythmically smoothing his palm down your arm, planting featherlight kisses across your sleeping face.
"y/n. babe, wake up." he gently lifts you up until you're sat up on the bed, your back laid flat against his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. he props his chin on your shoulder and coos, "sleepyhead. c'mon, you can get all snuggly and cute with me when you're done. right now, you gotta get up and get that gorgeous brain working again. you're not done yet, are you?"
he presses one last kiss on your cheek before you eventually (and reluctantly) rise from the bed, dragging your languid feet across the floor until you reach your desk and start working again almost instantly.
you hear the pads of his feet across the hardwood floor as he walks over to you, draping his heavy arms around you and brushing his thumb against your shoulder, "coffee?"
you give him a tired smile in response.
this cycle repeats two more timesー you crawling in his arms for another power nap, him waking you up in the sweetest, most gentle way possible, and you rising from the bed like a zombie, getting increasingly worn out until you finally stop typing and pass everything barely on time.
you slip into hitoshi's arms again and nuzzle your face against his chest, "'t's done." you mumble, your exhaustion draining out your energy to even enunciate your words.
"really? that's good then." he strokes the back of your head, pulling you closer by your waist. "you okay?"
you instantly start weeping. "no, i'm so tired. i'm so fucking tired. i'm dying. i can't do this anymore. that group project took up so much of my time so i couldn't write my own essay well. i just bullshitted my way for the last two paragraphs. it's awful."
"hey, you never write anything awful, y/n. it's physically impossible for the y/n to write a bad sentence." he continues petting your head as he consoles you.
"i justー" you mumble, your voice muffled by his hoodie as you press your face against his chest, "i could've done a lot better if i had more time."
hitoshi sighs, soothingly rubbing circles on your back. he wishes people didn't expect so much of you. never mind how intelligent and reliable you areー he's sick of people exhausting you like this. aren't you tired, even a little bit, of people constantly taking more than what you can give?
hitoshi's lips pressed on the top of your head as he ponders.
"hey." he calls.
"hm?"
"what if i... extend the deadline for that essay? you know, 'convince' your teacher to set a more reasonable one."
you raise your head to meet his eyes. "what?"
he clears his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze, "what if i brainwashed your teacherー"
"no, i get what you were saying, but i don't think that's a good idea, hitoshi." you frown.
"look, if you're not on board with it, i won't force it. i can't help you with these essays, can i? no one writes as good as you, so i'm just trying to help in any way i can."
"but hitoshi, that's notー" a yawn interrupts your sentence, brimming your eyes with tears. you easily surrender to sleep and snuggle back on his chest, "yeah, you know what? do that. fuck them."
your uncaring teachers be damned. count in your group mates that may as well be dead weights too. sleep and your sweet boyfriend felt less irksome to think about. you'll worry about everything later.
hitoshi snorts at your easy submission, hugging your waist even tighter as he whispers sweetly in your ear, his voice deep and tired, "i love you." he presses a kiss behind your ear, "if only i was half as smart and brilliant as you, i would've helped you with these thingsー you know that, right? if i could write essays as well as you do and my talents were on par with yours, i would've helped you a lot more."
he lowers his head to peek at your adorable, sleepy face before attacking your cheek and neck with smooches, "but you write such beautiful sentencesー how do you do that? what's your secret?" you giggle, both from the validation and his loud smooches.
silence settles over you as you catch your breath from that burst of laughter. he gently strokes the back of your head, feeling comfort himself at the steady rise and fall of your chest against his.
a sleepy mumble of "i love you." was all you could utter to your boyfriend before you start to drift offー you'll coddle him in the morning when you have the energy.
hitoshi smooths your hair back and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. "i love you too. i'm proud of you, okay? if you ever feel like no one acknowledges how hard you work everyday, just know that i'm here, and i see you every single timeー i've never missed an all-nighter, have i?" he snickers, "no matter how delirious and insane you get during these hours, i'm always there."
you chuckle softly and sigh, brushing your thumb softly against his arm.
"hitoshi?"
"yeah? what is it?"
you pause in hesitation, but you say it anyway. hitoshi would love the idea more than you already do.
"what if you brainwashed my group mates too?"
hitoshi smirks proudly. this is when he knows you've been spending way too much time with him.
"give me their names first thing in the morning, babe. i got you."
special tag: this is for @escapenightmare who also recently carried a whole group project on her back gws <3
TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)
#epilogue: hitoshi brainwashes your group mates to buy you lunch everyday 🤩#shinsou hitoshi x reader#shinso hitoshi x reader#shinsou x reader#shinso x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha headcanons#bnha drabbles#bnha comfort#shinsou comfort#bnha fluff#shinsou hitoshi fluff#shinso hitoshi fluff#shinsou fluff#mha fluff#bnha imagines#mha imagines
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No man's land
♡ Pairings: Eddie munson x reader
♡ Summary: a little something for the people who suffer from insomnia or just have a hard time sleeping.
♡ Warnings: fluff, none. Just some language but nothing terrible. Eddie calls the reader baby. No use of y/n.
♡ Word count: 1.1k
♡ A/n: This has been sitting in my drafts for way too long. While this is just a fluff piece, I would still prefer if minors didn't interact with my work. Thank you. Please reblog, like, and comment to show support.
3:00 am.
It was late very late and another sleepless night for you. You tossed and turned for hours trying to find the right position to rest, but it was no use. You just couldn't sleep. There really isn't even a reason behind it.
You weren't stressed at the moment. You and Eddie are both in a good place. You wish you could put a reason as to why this happens, but there is none. Not one thing. This isn't something new for you, though. You just wanted some type of excuse this time.
You carefully got out of bed trying not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend next to you. You make your way to the living to watch some TV. Perhaps you'll fall asleep out here, but you know that's highly unlikely. You tip toe into the kitchen, slowly opening up the cabinet above the stove to make some tea.
Wrapping yourself up in a warm blanket with Eddie's Garfield mug in both hands, you flick through the channels until you land on your favorite show. You kept the lights off, not wanting to disturb him in any kind of way since he has to be up in soon for work. Believe it or not, Eddie was a light sleeper, and the slightest noise or light could wake him.
"Why'd ya leave me?" His rasped with a pout on his face.
Foot steps trudging down the hall tell you that you were not as quiet as you thought. You turn to look over blanket draped over your head. There, he was standing in the hallway rubbing his tired eyes. His hair sticking up every which way. The white boxers with red lips, you got him for Valentines Day as a joke, hang low on his waist. He's missing one sock on his foot. You snort when you see him. He looks lost like he doesn't know how he got there.
You always thought his sleepy voice was so cute. He hated it.
"Couldn't sleep again." You sheepishly told him, taking another sip of tea.
He moves to plop down beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table folding his arms over his chest. His eyes bloodshot from just waking up. The brightness from the TV screen making his eyes water.
"Whatcha watching?" He yawned.
You snuggle up close beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Grey's Anatomy."
Nodding his head, looking semi interested. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.
"Eddie, you have to work in the morning." You whispered, looking up at him.
"It's okay if you can't sleep. I can't sleep." He squeezed you tight, kissing your forehead.
About an hour has passed since you and Eddie have been awake.
"What do you mean they found her lingerie pictures and showed them to everyone?" He argued, getting frustrated at the show.
"Dr. Model wow!, what a great insult...prick." He murmured, shaking his head.
"Yeah, she only did that to pay for school." You informed him getting a kick out of how upset he seems to be for lzzie.
Whatever sleep filled mind he had was gone now. He's wide awake, staring at the bright TV screen. His eyes are still bloodshot and puffy, but he's not tired. Not anymore. Too worked up and annoyed at what he's witnessing
His mouth drops in shock. "And this dickhead just walks around showing them to everyone?"
"Yep, pretty much." You take another sip of your tea, which is now too cold.
"Lemme get a taste." He motioned at the Garfield mug, eyes glued to the screen. He takes a big gulp, making a disgusted face at the now ice-cold chamomile tea.
He bought that tea specifically for you when he heard it helps with sleep. He always did little things like that for you. He'd buy you an entire life supply of chamomile tea if it meant you could finally rest.
He leaned forward elbows resting on his knees. He was still getting riled up at the plot that he didn't notice the alarm clock going off.
"It's time for work." You mentioned sadly.
"Oh, I'm calling out. I can't leave until I know what happens next." He says matter factly. He's too engrossed in the show now to stop watching. "And I can't leave you either."
The sunrise peaking in through your blinds, giving your living room a warm glow. "Wanna get breakfast?"
"Sure." You smiled sweetly at him.
"Then we can finish up this season and try to get some sleep, yeah?" He goes to stand, stretching his long limbs out.
"I hope so, but if I can't sleep, that doesn't mean you have to stay up too." You really don't want him to think just because you struggled with this that he has to as well. You've dealt with insomnia almost your whole life. You can handle losing just a day's worth of sleep. You hope it's just a day's worth.
"I don't think so. If my baby can't sleep, then I'm not sleeping."
"But." You tried arguing.
"No buts." He argued back, bending down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.
You shyly smile at him, wondering how you even found someone so caring. Sometimes, you truly believe you don't deserve him. You know that's not true, and he definitely knows that's not true. He's just so kind and thoughtful. You really didn't think there were people out there in the world like him. Eddie would constantly do things for you without even considering something in return. You're still not used to that but you're trying.
"Well, then we better get moving. We don't wanna miss anything." You go to stand next to him, stretching out your arms as well.
"I'm not putting clothes on. We can just go through the driver thru." He said, grabbing his keys. No shoes or anything. Just one bare foot padding along the carpet.
"Well, at least wrap yourself in this blanket, jeez." You roll your eyes playfully as you both head for the front door. You tossed him the blanket that was used as your own personal, safe haven. "You trying to get arrested?"
"Wouldn't be my first time." He joked, throwing the blanket around himself and heading out the door.
Eddie kept his promise to you that day. He did eventually doze off on the couch with you. It's not entirely his fault, though he made the mistake of laying his head in your lap after breakfast. Your hands scratch his back, and playing with his hair always made him relax. If there was ever a moment you wanted him to sleep, that was all you had to do, really. He'd instantly melt in your hands.
You stayed up, finishing off the rest of Greys Anatomy with Eddie softly snoring. You didn't sleep, and you weren't counting on it. Maybe you will tonight? Doesn't matter it comes in patterns for you. You know what to expect when this happens.
You're just happy you won't have to deal with it alone anymore. Whether you liked it or not. Eddie was going to be by your side helping you through it. No matter how much you argued that he shouldn't. He was stubborn, and once his mind was made up, that was it.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x you
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Hellooo 👋, can you write enemies to lovers with fernando alonso maybe with some angst? 🤭
It's totally alright if you don't want to! Thankssss :))
EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]
Fernando Alonso x reader
Masterlist
Summary: Y/N works for Alpine, and even though Fernando Alonso isn't part of the team anymore, they can't forget their distaste for each other. The driver seems to think she's just an irresponsible party girl and Y/N doesn't like him because he's, well... annoying and mean and doesn't care about anybody but himself. Though could they be both wrong in their prejudices?
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: Not much, maybe they're kind of mean to each other and stupid at the start, but that's the point of enemies to lovers, right? XD
Author's Note: Hello Anon and thank you for the request! I didn't expect it to turn out so long, but hey XD. I hope you and everybody else will like it. Also I tried for a little bit of angst, but I'm not sure if I'm good at it... you can let me know :).
If anyone could read your thoughts at the moment, you’d probably end up locked behind bars and with the key from your cell thrown far away. Whoever's great idea was to allow the group of inexperienced interns to touch the important data and statistics deserved to rot seven feet underground. Chopped into small pieces. And doused in poison that eats their lifeless body until there's nothing left.
Okay, that's maybe a bit too violent, but still not far from the truth.
You rubbed your tired eyes, not caring about smudging the mascara anymore. There was basically no one left in the building, just a few mechanics desperately needing the cars to be in perfect condition tomorrow – or should we say today? And then there was you, who stupidly agreed to fix the disaster caused by too much excitement and not enough cautiousness. You knew the interns didn't do it on purpose, and blaming them wasn't going to help you, but still. It wasn't them who had to sit there long after their working hours ended, staring into a too bright computer screen.
When you finally managed to save all the damaged data, it was almost three in the morning, and before you made it back to the hotel, you weren't sure if it was even worth going to bed. Because of the emergency, you didn't have time to finish your usual duties. And even though it wouldn't be fair to want the analysis from you, that wasn't how the game was played in motorsport.
Legs almost giving out under you, you dragged yourself to the elevator. The poor lady sitting at the receptionist desk looked at you skeptically, but didn't say anything as you stepped in and pressed the button with the number of your floor on it. Generic music started playing, numbing your brain even more.
The metal door was about to close, but then a hand came between it. Before you blinked and processed what's happening, a man slipped into the elevator right next to you, pressing his own number.
You see, everything could have been fine. You could've just survived the thirty seconds of embarrassing silence, then mumble a polite goodbye and go to sleep in peace. But no. Fate apparently had other plans for you.
Because as the man turned to you and the bright light hit his face, you realized it wasn't just some stranger.
Suddenly, the silence shifted from the normal elevator weirdness to tension. You pressed your lips together, silently cursing the higher power that decided to mess with your life just today, when you looked like a zombie. With smudged mascara. Perfect.
For someone, maybe it would be a fulfilled dream to be in an elevator with Fernando Alonso. Two time World Champion, great driver, loved person. And a dickhead that almost ruined your whole career.
“You look like you had a wild night,” he murmured with a thick Spanish accent. You narrowed your brows, trying to control the anger bubbling inside of you. Was he trying to insult you? You wouldn't even be surprised.
“Perhaps I did, thank you very much.” Your voice lacked any signs of friendliness, clearly trying to provoke him. It was quite funny, really, how a minute ago you didn't have energy to think clearly, and now you were ready to argue with this man over anything. Almost like the magic of despising someone.
You noticed his jaw tensing and knew it wouldn't be good. But still, his words hurt: “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of wild nights out, Alpine would do better.”
The sting in your chest was strong, but by some miracle the elevator finally stopped, and the robotic voice announced the twenty-sixth floor. Even life itself took pity on you, it seemed.
Without any other word, you turned away from Alonso and walked into the empty hallway, hearing a quiet scoff and then the door sliding closed again behind you, leaving you all alone in the darkness. How poetic.
Every door you passed looked exactly the same, and you just hoped you remembered your room number correctly.
You didn't even remember taking out the card and entering your temporary home for the weekend. You didn't remember taking your clothes off, removing the remaining makeup with a tissue because you were too tired for your usual skin care routine. You didn't remember responsibly setting up your alarm and then falling into the soft mattress.
All you could remember before the exhaustion took over were his words that cut deeper than he thought, and deeper than you'd like to admit.
-----
You couldn't believe it.
As you walked out of the debrief, you could basically feel everybody's frustration crawling up your spine, mixing with your own. The team, all the mechanics and engineers, pit crew members and marketing, hundreds of people worked so hard the whole week. And for what?
It was already bad when both cars didn't finish the last Grand Prix in Silverstone. But for it to happen again? That was downright embarrassing. Not only did it bring exactly zero points in the Constructors' Championship, but the drivers were angry, disappointed. You could see that in the team, the motivation level decreased quickly. And honestly, you couldn't blame them.
Last year, Alpine was the fourth-best car on the grid. Best of the rest, as they'd call it. But this season, everything was going terribly. You honestly weren't far from crying.
To lighten up the mood, some of your colleagues decided to enjoy a night out in Budapest before you'd have to fly to Belgium tomorrow, to prepare for yet another racing weekend. At first, you declined the offer, insisting you needed to catch up on some work, do analysis for the car and figure out exactly what happened to it. But then, one of the mechanics you were friendlier with saw your drooping shoulders, and pulled you into the club despite all your weak protests.
Soon enough, you let loose and after an hour, you were a few drinks in. Your head was spinning, a big smile planted on your lips and giggles coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. Not that you had low alcohol tolerance, but the last time you got properly drunk was some time ago. Perhaps you just forgot how it felt. The freedom, the sweet mist of oblivion clouding your mind.
Currently, you were sitting at the bar, sipping on a cocktail. You already enjoyed your time on the dance floor, which tired you more than expected. Thank God you went to the club right from the paddock, so instead of high heels that'd kill your feet, you had comfortable sneakers on.
As you waved at the young barman to give you another round of whatever he mixed for you before, you felt someone's eyes on your back. You didn't bother to turn around, thinking it was just another drunken man checking out half of the women in the club.
Then, someone stood behind you. “The drink's on me, hermosa,” the man said, voice smooth like honey. You froze. You knew that deep, thick Spanish accent too well. What the hell was Alonso doing here?
He clearly mistook your silence for an impressed one, or so you thought when he came to sit down next to you, his hand gently brushing your back. That was the moment you turned your head towards him, eyes wide, and his face dropped. So did yours.
You hoped for a split second you could pretend you were total strangers randomly meeting in a bar for just a little longer when he instantly frowned and his demeanor changed from charming gentleman to pain in the ass.
“Y/L/N,” he uttered it in a way that made you wonder if there was something wrong with your last name. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here.”
And here it was — the instant wave of anger and hurt he managed to bring up by just a few poking words.
“Says the right person.” You rolled your eyes, the flowing feeling the alcohol gave you before now gone. You felt like you were going to be sick. “I bet if it wasn't me you tried to hit on, you'd bring the poor woman to your hotel room tonight.”
“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”
“Oh, you wish, Alonso,” you laughed humorlessly.
The bartender chose that moment to bring you the requested cocktail you already forgot about. You gave him the cash, though you had no intention of actually drinking it. As always, Alonso left a sour taste in your mouth.
“I see you're drinking the team problems away,” he pressed harder, knowing damn well it was a sensitive topic. You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself to be the better person.
Then you looked into his dark eyes, and your self-control was gone. For some reason, you couldn't stand the look he was giving you. It was full of something that was too similar to disappointment. You hated people being disappointed in you, even if you hated that very person.
Out of nowhere, the alcohol kicked in, and you remembered why you didn't drink in clubs too often — it made you emotional. So stupidly sensitive that you couldn't stop your eyes from tearing up. You shook your head, opened your mouth, wanting to tell him something. Anything that'd make him just as much hurt as you were.
Instead, you bit your trembling lip and abruptly stood up. You almost knocked over the bar stool, though at the moment, you didn't really care.
Was it cowardly to run away from him and his harsh words? Yes, you knew that. But you did it in the elevator, and so you could do it again.
In a rush, you got through other people enjoying their night out, oblivious to the lump forming in your throat. You needed to get out, breathe in the fresh air and just forget about everything.
It was probably nearing midnight, and even though it was late July, you still shivered when you stepped outside the club. Just then you remembered you left your jacket back in the paddock. And you also realized the mechanic and his group of friends drove you here, and you had no idea where you were or how to get to your hotel room.
“Great. Just fucking perfect,” you mumbled to yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks. You wiped them away, willing yourself to calm down. Budapest couldn't be too different from other European cities, so you'd just walk to the nearest public transport station and then see what you could do from there. Yes, that was exactly what you're going to do, and it's going to be okay.
Having a plan calmed you down, at least a little. You walked in a direction you hoped would get you to the center and took your phone out. The battery was low, and you cursed yourself for not charging it during the day.
“Where are you going?” You winced and nearly dropped the phone when you heard the loud voice calling after you.
When you turned around, you already knew exactly who was standing before the club entrance.
“That's not any of your business,” you tried to sound tough, but it came out tired and weak. So instead, you lifted your head, trying to save the remaining bits of your dignity.
Alonso tilted his head, brown eyes studying you for a moment before he made a step towards you. “Don't tell me you don't have anyone to take you back to your hotel?” The undertone of his voice was strange, and if you didn't know better, you'd think it was worry seeping out.
“Oh, then I won't tell you,” you fired back, satisfied with your own answer as you turned around and left him standing there.
You made it around the block when a strong hand suddenly grasped your hand, and you screamed, prepared to fight whoever attacked you.
“¡Ay dios mío!” Alonso cursed and held his red cheek, where there was a clear hand print now.
You stared at each other in shock. You wanted to kill him for scaring you to death, but at the same time, you were relieved it was just him and not a creepy kidnapper.
“I'd say I'm sorry… but I'm not,” you managed to mumble. A weak attempt, you knew that. But it still seemed to wake him from his trance and make him scoff at you in annoyance.
However, he didn't let go of your hand.
“Let's go,” Alonso urged you back towards the direction you came from.
“I'm not going anywhere with you.”
“Y/N, if you think I would let a drunk girl wander around a city she doesn't know, alone, at night… then you clearly don't know me at all.”
It took a few seconds for his words to hit you, and all there was left for you to do was to look up at him with surprise written all over your face. That seemed to annoy him for some reason, but with alcohol still very much present in your system, you didn't have the capacity to think about it too much.
“Let's go,” he repeated, though this time you didn't protest when he started walking towards what turned out to be his car. You knew it very well, from the years you used to work together, for the same team. Silently, you wondered how the hell did he get it to Hungary, but you soon forgot about that.
Fernando unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. Your mom would probably tell you to be more cautious about getting into the car of a man you didn't like and were sure he didn't like you as well. But hey, it's still better than being lost in a foreign city, right?
So you sat down, and before you could reach for the seatbelt, he took it and strapped you himself, mumbling something about safety hazards with drunk people. You were so surprised by that unexpected action you didn't even have time to feel offended.
You closed your eyes, the comfortable seat making you sleepy. You heard him get in the car as well and join the night traffic. For a moment, silence reigned and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel horrible and tense.
“Isn't it illegal to drive with alcohol?” you whispered, eyes still closed.
“I didn't drink anything in the club. Too busy with you.”
Just then, you realized you actually asked the question out loud.
“Sorry for ruining your celebration night. Probably didn't want to leave it with me,” you laughed quietly. When he approached you in the club, he thought you were a random pretty woman with whom he could share a drink and take her to his bed for a fun night.
“Whatever.” You could hear him shrug his shoulders. “Sorry for ruining your night. Though you don't have much to celebrate.”
That made you open your eyes and gaze at him. He was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road ahead. The lights of the other cars occasionally landed on his face, and you wondered if he was always so handsome, or it were the cocktails speaking for you.
“Wow, even in an apology there's a hidden insult,” you snickered, though there was a small grin on your lips now. Yes, definitely the alcohol speaking for you, you told yourself.
This time, Fernando actually looked at you before he averted his sight back to the traffic. “I wasn't insulting you, Y/N. I was insulting the team.”
You raised your eyebrows, but didn't comment on it. It was pointless to argue over this, he had his opinion about Alpine and given the fact both your cars didn't finish two races in a row, you didn't have exactly the best arguments to convince him otherwise. After all, he was part of the team last year. And the year before.
For the rest of your ride, there wasn't much more said between the both of you. You were tired — not just because of the night out and drinking, but from the whole week, from the whole season.
Finally, he parked the car before a building you recognized. You didn't ask him how he knew which hotel your team booked, perhaps he remembered it was the same one as the year before. Honestly, you were just glad he helped you get out of the car and walked you inside.
Then, you found yourself in an elevator alone with Fernando, again. Though unlike a month ago, he gently held your hand for support this time.
You told him your room number and somehow, he got you all the way in front of the door. You thanked all the saints in the world when you dug the keys out of your purse. After three unsuccessful tries at unlocking the room, Fernando's patience apparently ran out. He took the keys out of your hand and silently opened the lock.
“Thanks,” you muttered, and let him lead you inside your own hotel room.
When the light switch turned on and illuminated all the papers lying around, he looked at you, flabbergasted.
“What's all this?”
You shrug your shoulders and look at him like he was stupid. Which he was, at least in your humble opinion. “Work. What else?”
“Yes, yes. But why is it… here?” He motions towards the desk, nightstands, and bed.
“Because I don't have time to do it all in the office.”
“You work overtime?”
Now you were starting to get irritated.
“Yes, I work overtime. Maybe if you weren't so insistent in thinking I'm a dumb party girl ever since I made one stupid mistake in your car's analysis a year ago, you'd see I'm actually trying my best.” You hated how hurt you sounded, pathetic in your own ears.
But honestly, who was he to judge you? You never actually stood up to him before, defended yourself against his mean words. You always sucked it up, let him complain about you to your boss, who almost fired you because of the driver's obvious distaste for you. And when he left the team at the end of last year, you never tried to contact him, talk to him. Fix your non-existent relationship.
Today, though, you had enough. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you courage, maybe it was his shocked face when he realized you actually did your job.
“Y/N, I-”
“Get out,” you said in a tone that didn't allow for any objections. Fernando seemed to understand, but the pained expression didn't leave his face when he slowly walked to the door. Like he didn't really want to leave, like he desperately wanted to tell you something.
You didn't care about him. He never cared about you before as well, did he?
And so, with one last, regretful look in his dark eyes, Fernando Alonso left your hotel room. When tears ran down your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were even crying.
-----
You were avoiding him after that. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you managed and after surviving the Belgian Grand Prix in Spa, you were excited about the summer break as never before. Almost a whole month without races, which meant you wouldn't have to meet anyone from the other teams, including Fernando.
Usually, the team worked tirelessly through the summer break — it was a great chance to have a proper look into the car's engine and come up with new ideas and improvements. God knew you needed that. Typically, you were amongst those loyal employees, basically living in the Alpine headquarters.
However, this year you really wanted a break. So you used your vacation days and stayed in your flat, finally sleeping like a normal person for once, eating home-cooked meals instead of team catering and enjoying the summer, though the weather could be better in England.
It was the start of August when you started finding flower deliveries on the threshold of your door. First, you thought it's a mistake, though what woman would refuse a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. When it happened a whole week in a row, you thought about having a secret admirer or, in the worse case scenario, a stalker. Though, you still took the flowers inside every morning, cherishing them.
And then, one day, there was an envelope attached to the bouquet, and you had to curse yourself for being so, so stupid. Of course it's him, Fernando. Begging you to talk to him, to let him explain. One dinner, he said. One dinner, and then he'll let you go on about your life.
When he tried to write a poem in the middle of August, you finally gave in. You found his old phone number saved amongst many other contacts and sent him a simple “okay”.
The next morning, there was a time and address of the restaurant in the envelope.
You didn't let yourself get too excited about any of it. It's Fernando Alonso, the man who almost caused you to get fired from your dream job, the one that was so mean to you after making wrong assumptions about you and your way of life. Yes, he was trying now, but was that enough?
When the taxi dropped you off in front of the fancy restaurant, you took a deep breath. You had a simple dress on, light makeup, and a few accessories.
You walked into the empty restaurant. The waitress smiled at you when you told her the name of the reservation and led you to the only set table. You could see the deep brown eyes looking directly at you from afar.
Suddenly, nervousness settled in your stomach. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was a date — it certainly felt like one.
Without a word, he helped you sit down on a chair across from him and the waitress handed you the menu. It was without prices, but you were certain this place was lavish and expensive. Perhaps Fernando didn't want you to worry about it and let you order anything you wanted. And you tried not to be too impressed by that.
“You look very beautiful, hermosa,” he spoke after a minute of tense silence while you pretended to be interested in the menu. You didn't miss the fact he used the same nickname like that night in the club, when he thought you were someone else.
“Compliments won't make it easier for you.” Maybe you lied, because you liked him calling you beautiful.
“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”
The waitress came back with a bottle of wine that Fernando must've ordered before you arrived. You took a sip and it tasted like heaven. It almost made you forget about everything, almost.
“Please, can we talk?” You never heard his voice sound so… unsure.
“Aren't we talking right now?”
“Y/N.” The way he said your name was so soft, so delicate.
“Fernando.” You saw him flinch, and you realized it was probably the first time you called him by his first name. Suddenly, the whole situation felt more intimate.
He gulped, but there was determination written all over his face. Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of man to give up, you knew that. His amazing racing career was proof of that.
“Listen to me, please. I know that you have the right to never speak to me again after how I treated you. But I want to fix it, Y/N.”
Those brown eyes were going to be the death of you, burying themselves into your soul, your heart.
“I want to fix all of it, Y/N,” he repeated with all seriousness. “If you let me,” Fernando added.
And how could you say no to him? Deep down, you always admired him. Liked him, even. Before that fuck up with his car's analysis, you thought he might like you back. You always wanted his approval, and that was one of the reasons why his words and insults hurt so much.
Sometimes, people deserved second chances. Especially when they were looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
Slowly, you nodded. “I think I might let you, Fernando.” You smiled, liking how his name felt on your tongue. “But it's not going to be easy, I'm telling you that,” you warned him with a raised finger.
“I wouldn't dream of anything less,” he replied with a thick Spanish accent that was stronger when he felt emotions. Fernando returned your smile and clinked his glass with yours.
-----
Brazil was a good race. Both Alpine cars ended up in points and Fernando, your Fernando, got another podium. You clapped along with others during the podium ceremony, eyes just for him. A proud feeling settled in you, and as he accepted his trophy for well deserved third place, he looked down at the gathered crowd. Mostly people from Aston Martin, McLaren, and Red Bull.
And then there was you — in your Alpine t-shirt, clapping for the driver who scandalously left your team last year, without a care in the world. That was when he knew he loved you, and that he'll always will.
You knew you loved him too when, after all the celebrating around the circuit died down or moved to clubs and private parties, instead of going to his hotel room, he knocked on the door of yours. Checking on you.
“Hermosa, I hope you're not working.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped in, seeing you indeed staring into your notebook at some data he probably shouldn't see as a part of a rival team.
“But Nando, I need to finish these-”
He cut you off the best way he could — hugging you from behind, gently turning your head towards him and placing his lips on yours. You instantly melted into the kiss, giving up the fight before it could even start.
“I think you need to properly celebrate your boyfriend winning,” he smirked, biting your lip teasingly. You felt like a teenage girl when the butterflies took off in your stomach.
Fernando slowly walked you to the bed, never parting your lips, as if his life depended on kissing you. You sat on his lap, your hips grinding against his as you moaned into his mouth.
And he couldn't help himself. He wanted to take you out on a magical date and tell you there, but how could he keep it a secret when you were sitting on him, so beautiful that his heart clenched. Smart and pretty girl. His smart and pretty girl.
“Te amo,” he whispered into your sweet lips, and your breath caught.
You pulled back a little, looking at him, silently asking if you heard him correctly.
“Te amo, Y/N,” he repeated. You knew enough Spanish for your eyes to tear up. “I love you very much.”
There was a heartbeat of silence, probably the longest one in your whole life.
“I love you too. So much,” you whispered back. And then, for him: “Te amo, Fernando.”
Now it was his turn to tear up, hold your face in his hands and press your foreheads together.
Perhaps the fate and its plans for you weren't so horrible after all.
THE END
Author's Note: Wow, if you read it all to the end, thank you very much! I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of support. Let me know how you liked this story and if you'd maybe like another oneshot from this "universe" because I have to admit, this version of Fernando and Y/N kind of grew on me... Have a great day and see you at the next post! :)
#f1 fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#formula 1#formula one#couple#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#reading#fernando alonso#fernando alonso x reader#fa14#fa14 x reader#alpine f1#aston martin#aston martin f1#x reader#writing#oneshot#f1 fic#f1#f1 blurb#f1 fluff#f1 angst
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