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honeyhotteoks · 2 years ago

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always only you (c.sc)

summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy

warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date.

Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either.

Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers.

You just wish you never told Mingyu.

I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.

Stupid.

You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure.

You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you.

Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it.

“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile.

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth.

The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought.

Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you.

You do fast math, panic math.

After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home.

Your stomach churns.

You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”

He’s gone before you can say thank you.

You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain.

Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this.

The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots.

It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call.

You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?

No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing.

You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride.

The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box.

Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone.

The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,”

The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”

“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?”

“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”

“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?”

He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop.

“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.

“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys.

You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops.

“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,”

You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,”

“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,”

You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming.

The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first.

You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress.

Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care.

He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless.

Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.

Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately.

Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel.

A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse.

By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill.

When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air.

He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather.

“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way.

His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?”

“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,”

He blinks, “y/n,”

“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,”

Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality.

He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you.

You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,”

“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position.

The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.

“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?”

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red.

He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,”

“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.”

Oh.

Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,”

He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words.

“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,”

“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact.

“I know,” You sigh.

“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?”

“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,”

Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish.

“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,”

“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.”

“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,”

“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”

He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait.

The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory.

He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,”

“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone.

“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.”

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,”

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little.

“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,”

“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road.

“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,”

“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile.

“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,”

He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,”

He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?”

“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,”

“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave.

You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,”

“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in.

“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain.

“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.”

Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?”

You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,”

“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,”

“I know,” You breathe.

He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?”

“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,”

“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,”

“I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,”

He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,”

You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?”

“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.”

You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly.

“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,”

His hand tightens on yours.

“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,”

You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour.

“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you.

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,”

His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,”

“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.”

“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,”

You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green.

He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,”

“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty.

“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,”

“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?”

“Shut up,” He sighs.

“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?”

He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?”

“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,”

His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,”

“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,”

He grimaces, “Ugh,”

“Exactly,”

“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,”

He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal.

Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?”

“You want to come up?”

“If you don’t mind,”

“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol.

He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times.

It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.

“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,”

“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here.

“So,” He clears his throat lightly.

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,”

You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride.

But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding.

Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s.

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go.

“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,”

“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands.

Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps.

“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,”

“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,”

“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,”

“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?”

“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,”

He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom.

It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself.

But then he laughs again.

You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?”

“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf.

“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,”

“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign.

“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile.

“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,”

He nods, “I remember,”

“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,”

“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,”

“Mm,” You laugh.

“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee.

“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise.

“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’”

“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,”

“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,”

“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,”

“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little.

“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,”

“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,”

Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?”

“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,”

He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you.

“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,”

Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back.

“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,”

“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue.

“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,”

“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.”

“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,”

He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,”

“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee.

“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question.

“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”

His eyes flick over you and then he nods.

The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”

You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash.

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,”

“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply.

“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning.

It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it.

“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him.

He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least.

You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry,”

He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,”

“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,”

“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,”

“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,”

“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has.

“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”

He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours.

You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?”

“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird.

“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?”

“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in.

You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,”

This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you.

“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,”

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,”

“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw.

“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,”

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already.

“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants.

A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss.

“God,” He shivers.

“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,”

Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away.

“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,”

“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,”

“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back.

“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,”

“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth.

“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart.

“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms.

“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip.

“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?”

“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,”

“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small.

“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,”

“Okay,”

“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?”

Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards.

“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.”

“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,”

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze.

“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,”

He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?”

“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,”

He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,”

“Yeah,”

“And you wanted me?”

You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,”

“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,”

“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,”

He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity.

“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,”

“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out.

He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,”

“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat.

“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,”

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders.

His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?”

“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,”

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,”

You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again.

With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.

“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,”

His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,”

“Baby?”

He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,”

“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley.

“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,”

“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?”

His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,”

For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you.

“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,”

Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?”

He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?”

“Please,” You whisper.

He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric.

“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess.

“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,”

You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else.

“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,”

You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,”

“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,”

This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises.

“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,”

“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again.

A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction.

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently.

“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,”

He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,”

“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.

“Can I eat you out?”

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,”

You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you.

You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you.

“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,”

“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze.

“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,”

“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile.

His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,”

Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly.

“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,”

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly.

“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,”

Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam.

“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip.

“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this.

His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?”

“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little.

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,”

“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?”

“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high.

“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?”

“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?”

“Of course,” You kiss him back.

“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast.

“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,”

“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,”

His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?”

“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,”

“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?”

“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,”

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,”

Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,”

“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,”

You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth.

“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,”

“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,”

“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue.

You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you.

“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,”

“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,”

He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts.

Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap.

“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,”

He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,”

He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder.

“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”

He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit.

“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,”

It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure.

“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,”

Everything you are is trembling in his hands.

“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,”

You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin.

“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,”

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open.

“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,”

Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”

“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,”

“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,”

He sighs, “This pussy,”

“Cheol,” You blush hard.

“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,”

“Anything?”

He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.”

“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?”

He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,”

“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,”

“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench.

When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen.

You want him inside you so badly you could cry.

“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his.

“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder.

“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs.

“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,”

He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,”

“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,”

“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?”

He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder.

“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?”

It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.

“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance.

“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand.

You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,”

“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls.

You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper.

“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,”

“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,”

“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,”

Your muscles clench down around his fingers.

He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?”

You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,”

“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?”

“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again.

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,”

All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you.

When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz.

“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again.

“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you.

“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams.

The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go.

Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease.

When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down.

“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms.

“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?”

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,”

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?”

You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,”

“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?”

He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone.

He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?

“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,”

“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him.

You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,”

“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock.

“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,”

He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him.

“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,”

He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him.

He nods, just a little.

“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,”

His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers.

You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this.

“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,”

He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?”

You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,”

Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs.

You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel.

“y/n,” He pants tightly.

You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down.

“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,”

“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early.

“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,”

He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,”

“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again.

“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips.

The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest.

“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,”

You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,”

“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards.

“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,”

Your eyes slam shut.

“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,”

“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter.

“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming.

Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”

He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,”

You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.

“So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss.

“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,”

Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm.

“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,”

As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you.

“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,”

“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together.

You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move.

When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?”

“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,”

“Yeah?”

“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,”

You laugh against him, “Next time?”

He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,”

You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,”

He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,”

Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,”

He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly.

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,”

You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,”

“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,”

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,”

“Good,” He sighs.

You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,”

“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,”

“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs.

Maybe you could rally.

Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,”

“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,”

“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing.

Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed.

You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours.

You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine.

In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads.

“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,”

You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest.

“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”

Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake.

“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention.

“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,”

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,”

Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”

He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,”

“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,”

“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,”

“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups.

“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,”

“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,”

He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?”

“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest.

His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,”

Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog.

“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel.

“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,”

“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”

“Go?” He asks.

“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,”

His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,”

“You what,” You blink.

“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,”

You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go.

“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,”

You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side.

“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”

“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue.

“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,”

Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you.

You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,”

“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap.

“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,”

He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?”

“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,”

“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand.

“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,”

“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,”

You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.

When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch.

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #seventeen ff #seventeen fic #svt fanfic #svt ff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #scoups #scoups fic #scoups smut #scoups ff #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff

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trampleddoves · 2 months ago

Note

Can you write something where reader praises Spencer? Like out of no where she’d compliment him and tell him how good he is (or hot, handsome etc) and he gets flustered and shy, can be smut or fluff. I just always read ones where Spencer praises reader but haven’t seen any of where Spencer is on the other end lol

LOVE your writings so much! If this isn’t anything you’re interested in writing feel free to ignore <3

s. r. blurb 8

contents: afab!reader, Spencer with a praise kink, slight exhibitionism, MDNI

Like most people, you derive a sense of satisfaction from knowing that your partner finds you attractive. That your presence makes their day just a little brighter, and that certain things you wear or do can make them react in certain ways.

For Spencer Reid, the reaction is a little bit more physical. Derek Morgan calls him a pretty boy and he flusters, red spots on his cheeks being brushed away by a halfhearted scoff, but when you do it? He’s shifting in his seat, adjusting his pants.

It isn’t a challenge to get him riled up, not for you anyway. He would worship the ground you walk on, if he could. You’re convinced he already does, with how he goes out of his way to please you and be a good boyfriend despite his irregular schedule for work. But somehow, a simple, “God babe, you look so hot in your glasses.” will have his pants tenting up just as fast as your naked body.

You wonder if it’s because he’s unused to it—compliments about his appearance are a dime in a dozen. You’ve heard how his coworkers talk, poking fun at his mismatched socks and sweater vests in the same way an older sibling would tease a younger one. Even his intellect is cause for teasing or is taken for granted. People just assume he’d figure it out, of course he will, it’s boy genius Spencer Reid, so it’s no wonder your earnest praise—spoken without agenda, just pure, sincere admiration for him—gets him hard, fast.

It becomes a problem too, spending time with him outside, enjoying the sun and the world, and the fact that you’re existing and experiencing everything with him, his eyes glinting gold in the light.

“Your eyes are like sunlight,” you tell him, leaning over, lips pressing kisses to his stubbly cheek, “They’re so pretty. You’re so pretty.”

And he’s gasping, fingers leaving little marks on your arm from where he’s held on a little too tight. “You can’t—shouldn’t—you know how I get.”

“How do you get, Spence?” you ask, voice soft and playful like the wind ruffling your hair.

“You know,” his whisper is panicked and sharp, a contrast to yours.

You only giggle, “But it’s true. You’re so pretty,” another kiss, this time at his jaw, “And smart. And interesting.”

His face progressively gets redder, lips trembling as his protests are replaced by light whimpers and satisfied hums. When you notice the unmistakable bulge in his pants, you have no problem pulling him back to your car and taking care of it, still whispering praises into the enclosed space, reveling in your effects on him as he loses all ability to talk.

#spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid drabble smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you smut #✒️ penned by dove

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hellooldshame · 15 days ago

Text

Empirical Analysis

Mark Grayson x Reader smut 🔞

Synopsis: You're absolutely fascinated by how fast Mark Grayson heals. Mark is more than happy to indulge you in your science experiment. AKA You both get horny while realizing you might have some sadomasochistic tendencies.

Word count: 2.8k words

CW: MDNI 🔞 NSFW, barely any porn to warrant all that plot, biting, (attempted) marking, scratching, bottom!-ish Mark that is technically more switchy, Reader on top, lots of grinding now that I think about it, outercourse, masochist!Mark, y/n's awakening sadism. Not beta read, never beta read.

Idea taken from @clairewritesfanfics and their smart atoms talk. I think I got carried away.

A/N: This made me rewatch Invincible so I can write bouncing on him

Bullets, bombs, and most explosives barely leave scuff marks. A knife gets bent and most weapons break on impact. Punches work though. Bludgeoning damage makes him bleed out his mouth or break his nose. Which absolutely baffles you to no end. Granted, the people hitting him were strong. Like, really really strong, but it wasn't like he was hurt when a reinforced boot smacked him square on the jaw.

Mark Grayson and the limits of his invulnerability were an enigma to you. As one of the many many scientists working in the GDA, you were tasked with understanding Viltrumite physiology. How they heal, what could hurt them, if they could be hurt at all. Admittedly, the job was fun when Cecil wasn't hounding you for the reports that you barely did.

Despite your job, you didn't like exploiting the poor guy. This was purely... curiosity to be honest. A very morbid part of yourself would have loved to dissect that pretty face and see how he ticked. The reasonable part of you reminded yourself how a scalpel would sooner turn to dust before it pierced his skin.

Once, you had slapped him across the face—the moment was heated and sometimes he just said things that would really piss you off. Regardless, his shoulders had jerked and his face turned in the direction your hand swung. Despite his parted lips from the shock and the stinging on your palm, there was barely any warmth on his cheek. Of course, regular human strength could only do so much to a guy who was safe from a stabbing. But the look on his face and the rising heat on his cheek only after the moment had registered made you want to test things further.

For Science! You had claimed all too enthusiastically when you tried to persuade him. Emphasizing even that everything would be "off the record" and "never to be used against him." You meant that promise too. And maybe Mark believed the conviction in your voice because he seemed just as excited when he agreed. For the sake of science.

Now, the scientific method would tell you that empirical evidence was important. Which is why you had to take a very hands-on approach in this experiment. Yes, science never said anything about taking Mark to your bed and straddling him—a notebook by his head and your butt pressed comfortably on his pelvis—while you collected data but this was necessary!

Firstly, you needed a private place so it was off-record. Ergo, why you did this at your place. Second, it was only polite to have your test subject comfortable as you measured his pain tolerance. Obviously, the most comfortable place that would fit him lying down would be your bed. And lastly, you were straddled because you needed to observe every detail and walking around a queen sized bed took too much time.

It was all very rational.

And besides, Mark was way too pretty for you to not at least get a bit of a good look at him. You had the best seat in the house. Mark Grayson, under you, body sunken slightly into your plush sheets, chest rising and falling nervously in an uneven stutter. Inhaling deep to even his breath, the release too quick and shuddering to calm himself down. It was understandable that he was nervous, being scrutinized so intently.

Big brown eyes stared up at you through his lashes and the light from your window hit his eyes just right to see the pattern of his iris. The swirls and webbing that made up the varying shades of mahogany and maple. If you stared long enough, you could see the tremble of it, how his pupils dilate. You might have stared at it for a moment too long.

"Uhm- I'm ready," a shaky voice spoke up, those same eyes blinking, unsure now if this was a good idea. Granted, he had his own ulterior motives, but the long silence had him thinking too hard. His initial motivations clouded by doubt and worry. What if you lied about keeping this a secret? Was he sure you weren't planning to dissect him? What if you realized he also had intentions beyond helping in your experiment? That maybe he wanted to feel the way your hands snap against his skin aga-

"Alright," you nodded, reaching down. You could've sworn Mark held his breath when your hand hovered near his face to grab the notebook. Pages flutter across until you settled on an empty sheet, scribbling the time and date of the experiment. "You sure I'm not too heavy? I can adjust."

The question was more out of courtesy than concern, knowing he could bench entire icebergs. A part of you also hoped to stay seated, the warmth beneath you quite cozy. The quick nod and mumbled 'mhm mhm' was all you needed before beginning your experiment.

"Mind if you," you gestured to his shirt, wanting to have as much skin to work with.

Mark looks down, eyes wide as if he was surprised he wasn't already undressed. "Oh- yeah, hold on," hands that were unconsciously gripping the sheets moved to tug his shirt off in one motion. Hurried movements turn clumsy and a rip is heard before you see the hole between the collar and the rest of his shirt. His head was still trapped, indents on his face pressed on the fabric as he fumbled to get free. "Shit, wait just-"

Your hands were quick and careful in helping him take off his shirt. It was hard to bite back a laugh and you were certain you were making a face when you tried to hold back the smirk and snicker. A quick tug , the shirt was off, and your hands felt warm against his chest. You had always been heavy handed and even now you exerted more than the necessary effort to push him back to lie down. As expected, there was resistance when you pressed down but he had fallen back so quickly someone would have thought you knocked him down.

"Try to relax," you whisper, trying to come off as soothing but the husk in your voice makes it sound sultry. Not that you noticed. Mark did though, felt his stomach flip and his muscles did the opposite of what you instructed. "I won't be using tools since the running theory right now is that physical contact seems to work better."

The lump in his throat bobbed when your hand touched his chest and fingers spread to try and get a feel. Trying to decide where to start. Your hands were cold compared to how warm he felt. And they would not stop roaming. The tips of your fingers pressed and prodded, pushing down as hard as you can and leaving the faintest red mark as blood rushes to where you'd applied pressure. So it wasn't like his skin was hard steel. You pinch the skin at his sides and he flinches.

"Ow- hey," the yelp came out automatically, the feeling reminiscent of being tickled or poked at the side. He figured he should let you know lest you mistake that for damage dealt. "That tickled more than hurt."

A nod and quick "noted" was your only response before continuing. The process was slow but you needed to cover all your bases. One hand moved to write notes, your body leaning forward and closer to him. The view was nice and the boy in him couldn't help but glance, ogle really, at the gap between your shirt pulled by gravity and the torso hiding underneath. Nice.

Your other hand began dragging nails across his bare chest and that brought his attention back to you. Normally, for some people at least, scratching just hard enough would leave white or raised lines. You definitely feel skin dragging against your nails but see no indication that you'd done anything. Somehow, you don't notice how his diaphragm contracts and stays there when he holds his breath. Eyes too trained on the contact between your nails and his skin to see his lips trembling. You inform him that you were going to apply more pressure.

Nothing hurt, not right now at least. But the sensation of your cold hands on his skin felt refreshing. Especially against his warm skin. Then your nails scratched his skin just right that he'd nearly hummed in satisfaction. He started wondering if you could break skin when he felt you dig into him. He could almost convince himself that you were strong enough to do it.

There was just something so disarming about you on top of him. Watching him with such fascination that he felt completely exposed. Like he had no choice but to surrender under you. Your eyes wide with curiosity, your nails dragging against him heavily. Sharp, steady, trying so hard to cut-

A stuttered gasp choked in his throat, breaking his thoughts as the stinging registered in his mind. You looked equally surprised to see the scratch on his pec, like red dotted lines outlined in white. A thumb tentatively pressed on the slash and Mark couldn't stop his lips from parting for the broken whine to escape.

Now, you were never one to bask in other people's pain, so you decided to blame his squirming hip jerks. The way the firm bulge in his pants rubbed up between your legs, the pleasure it shot straight up your spine coupled with that little cry was almost pavlovian. A professional would have gotten up and saved him the discomfort of having something so sensitive be put under pressure. A certain someone doing this out of the lab had decided it felt really nice when you sat yourself down firmly.

Mark was strong, you wouldn't be able to hold him down on your weight alone and by that breathless whimper, it seemed like he was okay with the way you readjusted and slid yourself against the hill on his pelvis. It was especially nice when he'd squirm underneath you, clumsy friction rubbing between you as your finger pressed harder on the wound. Your eyes nearly rolled back as you got lost in the slow carousel ride before he sighed out and finally relaxed.

Close. So close. Beneath your thumb was smooth skin, pristine and unblemished. Wide eyes stared at the newly formed skin and he swore he saw your gaze twinkle. He had healed. So fast, yet you couldn't help but miss the choked whines as he struggled to cope with the pain. You had expected him to have better tolerance than that but perhaps having tiny cuts compared to gashes and bruises felt different.

Mark inhaled lightly, breath finally steady as the stinging pain subsided and he wasn't forced to focus between his chest and the rubbing on his erection. "A-ah..." his voice cracked as you dug your nails in again and left three pretty scratches in your wake. Your eye twitched as you struggled to keep your gaze trained on him when his hips bucked again. Seeing the red flesh peek out had you holding back from leaning down and dragging your tongue over it. You needed to see it yourself.

A part of you was impatient, needing to observe every detail of his healing abilities. The other part was impatient for other things as you fidgeted. Hips rocking slowly only to incite tight-lipped grunts when you pressed on the open wound again. You don't know when his hands made their way to your sides, just that you were now pressed firmly enough that you couldn't lift up.

Then his hands grip and direct your lower half, moving you back and forth in his pace. You feel that ticklish sensation between your legs again as you watch skin merge back together, too fast to leave even a scab. Lips that had curled into an enthralled grin trembled when your eyes fluttered and the body below you lifted up slightly, pushing up as you were pressed down.

You looked good. Like, really good when you were watching him. Something almost manic in your eyes when you saw his body heal in real time. It made him go crazy thinking about what you probably wanted to do to him. The ill intent in your gaze as the corner of your lips twitched upwards in morbid interest, showing your teeth. It looked just as good when your eyes lost focus as he had you hump him, mouth hanging open to let out a surprisingly pleased moan.

The pleasure seemed to cloud any logic or reasoning left in you because you had forgotten to explain the next steps. No, you wanted to get straight to it apparently as you leaned down. Wordlessly, your chest pressed against his and if he wasn't holding onto you, you might have slipped off. Lips inched closer to his neck and your warm breath wafted against his already heated skin.

His eyes fluttered closed, expecting lips or a tongue to touch his neck. Instead, he felt pointed canines before you took a hard bite. His hips stuttered mid grind, once again caught off guard by your actions. His groans matched yours as you found yourself enjoying the sounds and sensations of grinding your teeth against his collarbone. You knew he was sturdy and the fact he got off on your teeth rather than recoil only spurred you to clamp down harder.

Nails dug into his shoulders as you held onto him. Hips gyrated and bucked against each other, your clothed sexes edging closer and closer to what you both needed. Mark couldn't take much more as he sat up, dipping you onto your mattress as he held onto your thighs and had you wrap your legs around him.

You didn't seem to relent either as your jaw refused to unclench. Not that it mattered to him. Moans muffled behind your teeth, hot air hitting his neck in quick puffs from your breathing. That and the faint ache on his skin had him rutting harder against you.

Strong hands moved up, stopping at your waist as a careful yet firm grip held you in place. Then he thrusted forward again, the movement quick and desperate and needy. He needed it, really really bad. Wanted it as much as you, whose attention was being taken away by the growing intensity of the body dry humping you. Jaw and abdomen equally as tight.

A stuttering slam against your pelvis has you seeing stars and you finally unclench your jaw to cry out. The crash of pleasure has you bucking back up into him and if that didn't do him in, the long scratches down his back and your legs locking him sungly into you does.

Mark collapses on top of you, spent and breathless and you both have most likely needed a change of clothes. Vision hazy, you try to crane your neck and see the damage you should have dealt on his collarbone. The disappointment on your face could be seen a mile away.

Despite your best efforts and rattling you'd felt in your teeth, all you had to show for it was indents from your canines. Already raising back up as if it had never happened.

"I nearly lost a tooth for nothing," you mutter, saving the fact you wanted to leave a mark at all to unpack for another day. A breathy laugh came from beside your head, feeling the vibrations against your chest. His hair tickled your cheek as her turned to look at you, eyes twinkling in the afterglow of climax.

"I mean, it's not bullshit that I'm called-"

A/N: yeah ofc I'd make that fuckass joke.

I haven't written in a good 2 years or so and have drafts before the pandemic for other fics (they're on Wattpad do you understand what type of person I am now). I didn't mean to make reader a lil biology freak but that was fun.

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prythiansprincess · 9 months ago

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brother's bsf! mattheo who you've had a crush on for years.

but he's only ever seen you as theo's little sister (or so he says).

it doesn't matter that you and theo are only a year apart. your older brother is extremely protective of you and so are the rest of his friends — especially mattheo.

you grew up around the boys, which was a blessing and a curse in and of itself. on one hand, you grew super close to mattheo, but on the other hand, he's seen you through your awkward braces and pigtails phase.

lately though, brother's bsf! mattheo starts to notice you. really notice you.

suddenly, you didn't seem so little to him anymore.

but over the years, your infatuation with your brother's best friend calmed to attraction instead. you've come to accept that while mattheo would always be your first crush, that's all it would really ever amount to. a harmless little childhood crush.

thanks to theo, you hadn't gotten much of a chance to date when you were younger, but now that you were starting uni with the rest of the boys, you were determined to push those silly little feelings for mattheo away and start putting yourself out there.

granted, you had a lot to learn given your sheltered upbringing.

boys had taken a liking to you. why wouldn't they? you're pretty, you're smart, and you're the perfect combination of sweet and sassy, but you were also extremely naïve.

brother's bsf! mattheo had to protect you.

it was his responsibility.

theo trusted him to keep an eye on you. so he did.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo glares at any boy that dares to look at you.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo revs his motorcycle and comes in hot when he sees anyone talking to you, handing you the pink helmet he keeps on him at all times without a single word.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo gives you rides to your dorm and takes you out for ice cream after a particularly hard exam.

it's clear that mattheo has a soft spot for you. no matter how vehemently he denies it.

until the night that everything changed.

it was a chilly friday evening when you happily skipped out of your dorm building, eager to attend your first frat party.

the cute boy in your history class asked you to come with him and you immediately said yes despite not knowing what to expect. it seemed fun and exciting and a little bit dangerous.

as luck would have it, you ran into none other than mattheo on your way out. his sleek black motorcycle was parked on the curb, smoke wafting from his lips as he took a lazy drag of his cigarette. leaning against his bike, mattheo raised a brow as you strutted onto the sidewalk.

"where do you think you're going, nott?"

"to a party, matty."

"with who?"

"a friend."

mattheo narrows his eyes at you. "I know all your friends and they're busy tonight. so which friend is it?"

you sigh in frustration. "just a friend from class. god, you sound like theo right now."

"you're not going anywhere wearing that."

"what's wrong with my dress?"

you smoothed down the front of your red minidress self-consciously, shying away from mattheo's intense gaze. his chocolate brown eyes scanned your body, the heat of his stare dragging along your skin.

"for starters, that dress barely covers anything and knowing you, you'll be cold within the first few minutes."

"I'll be fine, mattheo. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

mattheo crosses his arms, huffing at your statement. "so you told theo where you're headed off to tonight?"

you shrugged. "what my brother doesn't know won't hurt him."

"yes, but he might hurt anyone stupid enough to ogle you in that dress. as will I. maybe I should tell him what his baby sister is up to. better yet, maybe I should come with you to this party, hm?"

"no please," you pleaded. "I just want one night where I'm not being treated like a little kid. can you give me that, matty? please?"

you flashed your best puppy dog eyes at him, knowing that he couldn't possibly resist when you asked so nicely.

mattheo considers it for a moment before sighing in defeat. "fine, princess. but text me when you get there and call me when you're home. don't even think about turning your location off or else I'll send a brigade after you."

"yes sir."

"good girl."

before brother's bsf! mattheo could think better of it, you kiss his cheek and promise to call him later that night.

brother's bsf! mattheo watches you strut away in your tight little dress with a soft smile on his face, fully knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger.

by the time you arrive at the party, it's in full swing. music is blaring, drinks are flowing, and the frat house is packed to the brim with people.

you send a quick text to mattheo to let him know you've arrived before spotting aiden.

clearly, your date was already a few drinks in. he greets you with a lingering hug before handing you a red cup. "cheers, y/n."

"cheers," you respond, clinking your cup against his and taking a generous swig. the liquor burns your throat and aiden chuckles as you try to hide your wincing.

still, it does the job.

you loosen up after a few sips. aiden introduces you to his friends and you smile politely, trying not to squirm out of his hold as he pulls you in by the waist.

it's fine, he's just keeping you close in such a packed crowd. he doesn't mean any harm by it.

at least that's what you told yourself.

until aiden tries to make a move on you in the middle of the dance floor. you already told him that you didn't want to dance, but he insisted.

you could smell the liquor on his breath as he grabbed your hips, moving them along to the rhythm of the song. you tried to put some distance between you, but aiden didn't seem deterred by it. in fact, his wandering hands slide down to your lower back until they're planted firmly on your ass. you attempted to pry them away, but he slurred "relax" into your ear before giving your ass a squeeze.

that was the tipping point for you.

with all your strength, you shoved aiden off while he cursed after you. the lights were blinding as you made your way through the crowd, fleeing to the bathroom.

you had brother's bsf! mattheo's number dialed before you even closed the door.

surprisingly, he picks up on the first ring.

"hi matty, are you — are you busy right now?"

"I'm with the boys. how'd the party go, princess?"

"um, I'm still here and I just really want to go home."

you hear shuffling on the other end. presumably mattheo finding somewhere more private to speak with you. "I thought your friend was your ride home?"

"well, aiden's drunk and he's been getting a little handsy the whole night so I don't really feel safe going home with him."

"what?" mattheo hisses. "you didn't tell me you were with a guy. I never would've let you go off alone with some random prick."

"please don't be mad, matty. I just wanted to have fun without worring about my brother hovering over my shoulder. don't tell theo, please. I'll — I'll figure it out. I'll find another ride."

"like hell you are! drop your location. the boys and I are coming."

"no, please. I don't want this to be a whole thing. if theo finds out, he'll never let me out of his sight again."

you could feel mattheo grappling with the situation. part of him wanted to tell his best mate, but all he truly cared about was getting to you as quickly as he could. after a few moments, he sighs. "fine, I won't tell your brother, but I'm still coming to get you. stay where you are, princess and don't hang up the phone. I'm on my way, okay?"

"you really don't have to —"

the argument dies in your throat when you hear the sound of mattheo's motorcycle starting up. he wasn't going to let you talk him out of this. mattheo was coming, whether you wanted him to or not.

"too late. be a good girl and stay on the line with me, sweetheart. I'm coming for you."

brother's bsf! mattheo pays no mind to the boys as they joke about him meeting up with a booty call.

the only thing that matters to him is getting to you.

brother's bsf! mattheo weaves through campus, revving and racing his motorcycle as fast as it can possibly go.

it's too noisy to talk while he rides, but he stays on the line anyways, listening through one earphone as you quietly hum to help calm yourself. mattheo smiles to himself. it's one of his favorite quirk of yours. half of the time, you don't even notice you're doing it. but he does. he notices everything about you.

mere minutes have passed since you first called him, but it feels like an eternity to mattheo when he finally pulls up to the decrepit frat house at the edge of campus.

mattheo parks his motorcycle on the curb, glaring at the prying eyes trained on him. it's not every day that the mattheo riddle, resident bad boy pulls up to a party looking like he's absolutely ready to kill someone with his bare hands.

he has half a mind to burst into the bloody house and pummel that stupid prick for daring to touch you, but the sight of you approaching stops him cold.

you look flustered and fearful, lower lip trembling as you spill out into the sidewalk. mattheo instantly sees red. he vows to make that motherfucker pay for this.

"where is he?"

"mattheo —"

"where. the. fuck. is. he?"

"probably somewhere inside drunk off his arse. I don't know and I don't care. can we please just go?"

despite his anger, you don't balk from him. in fact, you've got both hands pressed firmly against his chest to hold him back.

brother's bsf! mattheo grips your hips, your noses pressing together as he carefully inspects you. making sure you were alright is the only thing keeping him from committing violence.

"tell me where he is."

though mattheo's words are tinged with fury, his tone remains soft and sweet. his voice is nothing but a whisper because even at his angriest, mattheo would never raise his voice at you.

“give me a name, sweetheart. just give me his name."

"it's fine, matty. he's not worth the trouble."

“he left you alone, at a party where you don’t know anyone, got too drunk even though he knows he’s your ride home and got handsy with you even though you weren’t into it. give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck him up right now?”

“I can handle him later. can we please just go home? I'm tired and I just want to be in bed now.”

the cold air makes you shiver as you mentally curse yourself for picking such a skimpy outfit when hours ago you felt foolishly confident in your dress.

brother's bsf! mattheo softens when he sees you trembling. without a word, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. the scent of amber and cinnamon envelopes you all at once, lulling you into a calmer state.

"okay, princess. let me take you home."

once mattheo secures the baby pink helmet over your head, he tells you to hang on tight before taking off.

you hug his midsection, resting your chin on his shoulder as mattheo drives slow through the sprawling campus. the streets are empty, but he drags out the ride, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible.

at the strike of midnight, the two of you finally reach your dorm.

although you insist that you're fine, brother's bsf! mattheo walks you all the way up to your door.

the fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you shift your weight form one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy.

"thanks for picking me up, matty."

"of course, y/n. you know I'd do anything if you're the one asking."

you smile, trying your hardest to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I hope I didn't ruin your night."

mattheo shrugs. "not at all. before you called, I was watching berkshire stuff marshmallows down his throat while the boys cheered him on. trust me, you weren't interrupting anything important."

"still. I appreciate you coming to my rescue and not ratting me out to my brother."

mattheo smiles. "it's our little secret, princess."

the double meaning of the words causes tension between you and the pull that you've always felt towards mattheo feels stronger than ever, tugging you closer.

maybe tonight is the night that you finally feel brave enough to fall.

"goodnight, matty."

brother's bsf! mattheo watches as you get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek like you always do. except this time, you lean in for a proper kiss.

as soon as mattheo's lips touch yours, you feel your entire body erupt like fireworks. it's everything you imagined it to be and more. his lips are soft against yours, supple and inviting. the kiss takes him by surprise, but once he realizes what's happening, he groans into your mouth, the sound of it filled with need.

dazed and confused, you look up as mattheo pulls away, his big brown eyes scanning your face. "we shouldn't do this, princess."

despite his words, mattheo's hand rests itself on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your exposed skin. you gulp as he stares at you, your lips brushing, your bodies gravitating towards each other no matter how hard you try to fight the pull.

"is it because of my brother?"

"no," mattheo growls. "we shouldn't do this because I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we start."

"I don't want you to stop, mattheo."

as soon as the words leave your lips, mattheo is kissing you again, and this time, he isn't holding back. you cling onto his shirt as he kisses you hard, the force of it hitting you all at once. his fingers dig into your hips as you bend at the waist, desperately kissing back.

his head is reeling and his heart is pounding. mattheo is drowning in your taste, your touch, your smell. you're every drug rolled into one; seductive and sinful. he's addicted and he can't get enough.

brother's bsf! mattheo doesn't want to pull away. he wants to stay here and live in this moment forever, but he knows that if he does, he'll end up taking everything.

foreheads pressed together, mattheo leans in for one last kiss. this one is sweet and gentle, enough to satiate him for the moment.

"sleep tight, princess. I'll see you in the morning."

"see you in the morning, matty."

brother's bsf! mattheo can't help but take one last look at you, a soft smile on his face when he sees your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.

in that moment, he knows he's fucked. you're his best mate's little sister. he shouldn't have kissed you. he shouldn't feel this way for you. he should've stopped before it was too late, but you were both way past that now.

now that he's had you, he won't want anything else. it's you he'll always crave. it's you he'll always long for. and he doesn't give a fuck what it takes to get you.

brother's bsf! mattheo won't stop until you're his and his alone. *✧･ﾟ:*

#mattheo on a motorcycle might actually put me in a coma #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine

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junrenjun · 8 months ago

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11:21 AM

lee donghyuck (haechan) x reader

You can’t help but laugh as you take in your husband’s appearance. A larger version of your son’s football jersey sits loosely on his frame. Matching purple eye black runs under his eyes. You can’t bring yourself to complain though because he looks good. “Isn’t this a little much for peewee football?” you ask him jokingly, running your finger just under the line on his cheek.

“Absolutely not,” he responds before planting a wet kiss to the top of your forehead. “Mark and Jeno are wearing the same thing,” he tells you with a proud smile on his face.

You roll your eyes at his antics. “I’m sure their wives are thrilled about that,” you joke, reaching out to straighten the chains that hang around his neck. “Did you get all dressed up for me or for Melissa?” you ask with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Donghyuck groans at the mention of the team mom of his son’s football team. The woman really needs to learn to keep her hands to herself. She may be single but he sure as hell is not. “Only you baby,” he says, wrapping his hand around your wrist to halt your movements.

You look up at him again and he smirks back down at you. Without wasting a second, his lips are on yours, working fervently against your mouth. Just as you grant his tongue access, there’s a small shout of “Mom!” from across the hallway and you separate.

“We’ll continue this later,” you tell him, side stepping around the bed to head to your son’s room. Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to give your ass a little smack when you do so. You roll your eyes and give him the finger over your shoulder.

Thirty minutes later, everyone is situated in the car. Your son chatters happily about how excited he is, while your husband listens and nods from the driver’s seat. His hand is lazily thrown over the console, loosely holding your own.

Donghyuck has barely put the car in park at the complex when your son grabs his bag and practically sprints out of the car. You both watch as he approaches the field, joining his team to put on his gear and warm up. A small contented sigh leaves your mouth. You lean back against the headrest and close your eyes.

You’re only granted a few moments of peace before your husband disturbs you. His hand slips from its place on the console to your upper thigh, where he gives it a quick squeeze. Your eyes shoot open. “Hyuck…” you warn.

“‘...’m not doing anything,” he mumbles, eyes zeroed in on the plush skin underneath his hand.

A scoff escapes you at his statement. You don’t get a chance to shoot back a smart remark, because his other hand reaches out and pulls your face towards him. Before you know it, his lips are crashing against yours. His mouth moves roughly against your own and you can feel your own desire increasing by the second. You reach up, placing your hands on either side of his face and pulling him closer.

Your little moment is quickly interrupted by a knock on the driver’s side window. When Donghyuck turns his head, you catch a glimpse of Mark with his hands in his pockets and a disgruntled look on his face. Unsurprisingly, his outfit matches your husband’s to a tee. Hyuck rolls down the window.

“You guys are nasty little voyeurs, man. We’re at a children’s football game,” Mark calls out to you both. “Game starts in 15 minutes,” he continues, looking down at his watch. “And you might want to fix that,” he says, gesturing to the eye black that mirror’s Donghyuck’s, before turning around and walking back to his wife.

Sure enough, when your husband turns back to you, the purple has smudged further down his cheek. “Sorry,” you giggle to him, while reaching out to fix it as best as you can.

One of his hands reaches down to rest on your thigh again. “Our son is going to sleep pretty well after this game, right?” he asks you.

“Probably, why?” you ask as you lean back to observe your work.

Donghyuck leans down and presses his lips to your ear before whispering, “I want to give him a sibling.” You smack his chest as hard as you can and he leans back, howling in laughter.

“Great,” you tell him with a deadpan expression. “Now I’m going to be wet walking into my son’s football game.”

His Adam’s apple bobs in response. “Mmm maybe I should keep it up. Would probably keep Melissa away,” he teases.

You smack him again. “Stop talking about another woman when you just said you wanted to put a baby in me.”

Donghyuck simply smirks in response before turning off the car and unbuckling his seatbelt. He whips his head toward you, taking you by surprise. “Last to the field has to do the dishes tonight,” he says, before sprinting out of the car the same way his son had. You shake your head before running after him.

#i have been wanting to write a fic ab these haechan pics forever #lu writes #nct dream #nct 127 #nct #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan x reader #timestamp fic #haechan imagine #lee haechan x reader #lee haechan imagine #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck imagine #nct dream imagine #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct imagine #dad haechan

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misstycloud · 11 months ago

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Yandere loser

Yandere!Loser who is a prime example of the stereotypical nerd. He is not especially good-looking, has no friends(if you don’t count the pigeons he feeds in the park on Saturdays) and faints at the idea of being the centre of attention. Usually when he is, it’s not for a good reason.

Yandere!Loser who thinks you’re very pretty. Granted, it’s what everyone else thought too. But you’re totally different from him! You are popular, has many friends (who’re not birds..) and is not shy at all.

Yandere!Loser who wishes he was in your league. That way he might actually have a shot at being with you. The only thing he’s not average in is his grades. He had the idea of tutoring you and that way get close to you, but he scrapped that idea the same day. He just didn’t have the courage for it.

Yandere!Loser who thinks he’s dreaming. You were confessing your love to him!! Of all people?! He has to pinch himself hard to prove he is, in fact, in reality and this was not a fantasy his mind had created.

Yandere!Loser who starts stuttering in front of you. He humbly(and quickly) accepts your confession. The poor boy is too caught up in the moment to notice your grossed-out expression. He is so thankful for your feelings. The thing is, he too, is in love with you. He would’ve wanted to seal your future with a kiss, but when you back away, he fidgets nervously and says it’s fine; your kiss can wait.

Yandere!Loser who wants to be the best boyfriend ever. He know he’s not as tall or athletic as your exes and many admirers. But he’s smart and he’ll try his best to make you happy! You just have to ask and he’ll do your homework. He can also carry your stuff to class, and he’ll even fetch drinks for you and your friends. It’s fine, he doesn’t mind! Promise.

Yandere!Loser who grows to be insecure. He overheard others talk, and apparently they can’t believe you would chose to go out with someone like him. They laughed at the thought. And here he was thinking everything was going perfectly. Sure, you’re not as affectionate as a girlfriend would be normally(how would he know though, it’s not like he has any experience) but you’re obviously taking your time to warm up to him.

He’s definitely the perfect choice for you. Just let him prove it!

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girlfishes · 7 months ago

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“My most recent research study, which included more than 17,000 fifth-grade through 12th-grade girls in The Girls’ Index, reveals a troubling trend: 67% of the participants reported that they don’t say what they’re thinking or disagree with others because they want to be liked. Let that sink in for a moment. Two-thirds of girls are silencing themselves to be accepted.”

“Other findings from our survey are just as stark and, frankly, terrifying. Since 2017, the percentage of girls reporting confidence has declined from 68% to just 55%. A staggering 53% of girls report feeling persistently sad or hopeless. As one seventh-grade girl told us, “Girls my age don’t feel happy the way we are. We want to be someone else.” Reading this, I feel a painful twinge of recognition — like I’m hearing my younger self speak.

We also discovered that two-thirds of girls reported that their body image negatively impacts their confidence. Two-thirds! And nearly 60% of high school girls said they don’t believe they’re smart enough for their dream jobs.”

My analysis ⬇️

This is very disappointing, but it is no surprise. Undergoing female socialization means being conditioned to constantly monitor how you appear to other people.

Questions such as “am I being respected right now”, “do I agree with what is being said”, “do I feel healthy” take the background, while questions like “do I seem nice and kind”, “how can I get this person to like me” and “do I look pretty/skinny/young” take the forefront instead. This is an exhausting way to live.

In the political sphere, women are being asked to first change the language around how we think about our issues before we can talk about them. The specific words we use are often more important to those on the left than the actual content of what we are saying. Making sure we appear politically correct is being made more important than choosing the words that best reflect what we want to say. Often, changing our language so we can appear to be kind and considerate towards others completely obfuscates our points and issues.

As someone I forget so brilliantly put it, we are more concerned with saying nothing wrong than doing something right.

This preoccupation with appearance has a much deeper effect on the lives of women than most take for granted.

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do interact

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enjakey · 2 months ago

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Pretty in Beige

Pairing: figure skater!Sunghoon x archaeologist!Fem!Reader

This fic (6k) was posted a long time ago on my old account. I was rewatching the 02z valentines live and couldn’t help think of this again. Missed this fic again.

Summary: in which an idol falls in love with an intern- a tale as old as time, for two coworkers to pine over each other.

“Awe, that’s a pretty picture.”

If he had to be honest, Sunghoon didn’t know why a simple sentence as such brought him butterflies. It was something he heard all the time, from the members and the internet. Obviously, he cherished the compliments equally but it was different when she said it.

Perhaps it was the way she had to stand on her toes to look over his shoulder, glancing at his phone for only one second. Or maybe it was the way his cheek accidentally brushed over her hair when his head turned slightly. Her floral perfume lingered around his nose and the texture of her hair was imprinted onto his skin.

He even found himself touching his cheek when her presence disappeared, fingertips searching for that sense once again. He turned his whole body towards where she was headed, eyes fixating on the way she had to hunch to hold a heavy box of props and the way she almost tripped on her shoes as she turned a corner.

Sunghoon felt the urge to run after her, offer a little help with the box that weirdly matched the colour of his darkening hair. It must have been heavy, he gathered judging by the way she took small and cautious steps. But he was already too late because she had entered an elevator and he didn’t want to get lost in the new Hybe building while searching for her.

It didn’t take long for him to recognize her as the new intern everyone was buzzing about. Y/N, the organized and smart college girl that managed to score an internship with only one interview. The girl that always walked in wearing an endearing beige trenchcoat and the girl that never had chipped nail polish.

All Carleen, the publicist, could talk about for an entire week was Y/N and how great she was and how sweet and kind she was, and how she helped with everything. Granted, Sunghoon was eavesdropping but he was curious, and no matter what he heard, he couldn’t seem to get enough.

He didn’t blame her for speaking about Y/N all the time. A couple of days into the job and she was befriending everyone with her charming wit and outgoing personality. Everyone knew her as the girl that said good morning to anyone she walked past and everyone knew her as the psychology major intern that was so damn lucky.

Perhaps she was lucky, Sunghoon presumed. It wasn’t every day that someone got an internship in BigHit. And it wasn’t every day that a girl could get paid money for simply telling a group of seven boys to behave themselves. To be fair, he didn’t exactly know what her job was, but she was fortunate regardless.

He supposed he’d have to thank her luck someday because if it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have something to look forward to when he entered the Hybe building apart from the gorgeous interiors. He’d walk in and immediately start searching for her beige trenchcoat and messy hair and he’d find himself listening for her chuckles and laughs.

Sunghoon thought it was a harmless crush. He thought if he just didn’t acknowledge his emotions, he’d forget about it and move on. But it didn’t help that Y/N was always standing behind the camera while he was on V-Lives and it didn’t help that she was giggling at every small joke that anyone cracked.

So, no one could blame him for always glancing at her every chance he could, smiling every time she looked away. No one could blame him for looking for her every time he had a moment to himself. He knew he wasn’t being discrete, the members had pointed it out numerous times before. He was sure the way his gaze lingered elsewhere didn’t go unnoticed by the internet.

Sunghoon honestly couldn’t care less.

All he knew was that when Y/N wound up doing his makeup one day, he wished the brushes that she used were her hands instead. All he knew was that he wanted her lips on his when she did his lipstick and he wanted her to trail her fingers down his nose and trace his jaw when she did his foundation.

He just snapped, he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t go about his days normally while knowing that it was literally forbidden of him to have Y/N the way he wanted. He couldn’t come to terms with the fact that the rest of the members have had more conversations with her than he did. Sunghoon could probably count on one hand for the number of times he’s spoken to her.

He even spent a day cooped up in the dorm, miserably wasting away his time as he pondered about what he could possibly do to get closer to Y/N.

He could simply walk up to her and strike up a conversation. But what could he talk to her about? What did they have in common? He’d come off as too strong, anyway- was that good or bad?

Sunghoon didn’t know the first thing about approaching a girl, talking to a girl, or getting to know a girl. He could chalk it up to introversion, but how long would he use that as an excuse? He spent most of his life training for one thing or the other, he missed out on most things teenagers would do. Like going to parties, hanging out with friends, having a girlfriend.

Maybe he should have given up. Maybe he did give up. He told himself that it wouldn’t matter once her internship ended and it wouldn’t matter once his schedule got busier. He thought he had gotten over it until he ran into her one fine morning in the elevator.

He just had to wake up late and he just had to wear his worse outfit that day. But Y/N didn’t seem like she cared when she held the doors open for him to run into and she didn’t seem to care as she gave him a warm smile.

“Where to?” She asked him, observing the button Sunghoon clicked.

He swore he felt his heart stop when he heard her voice. Her voice that was directed towards him. Sunghoon didn’t turn around or respond to her for a good ten seconds. When he did come face to face with her, he found her wearing her usual beige trenchcoat, hair tied in a pretty ponytail.

He pursed his lips into a polite smile, clasping his hands in front of him. “The dance studio,” he said, unintentionally letting his voice drop a few octaves. When he realized it, he didn’t even have time to process it. “And you?”

“Uh, Carleen’s office,” she said, nodding ever so slightly. “You have a busy schedule today,” Y/N chuckled, leaning her weight on one leg.

His ears perked up, brows straightening as he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. “You know my schedule?” He gaped.

“It’s my job, darling, obviously,” she grinned at him and it was not helping the way Sunghoon’s heart was already spasming.

“Fair enough,” he gulped. “You’re gonna be there?”

“For the first half, yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically, her ponytail swaying from side to side.

“Ah,” he breathed. “What about the rest of the day?”

“I’ve got schoolwork,” she cringed, patting her hand against her thigh.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” he agreed.

If he had to be honest, this was probably the most awkward conversation he had to live through. It could have been because of the elevator, or maybe it was because they truly had nothing to say to each other.

“At least you can have fun while you’re here?” He offered with a half-hearted grin.

“Fun?” She chuckled. “I swear I’ve seen you guys perform Drunk-Dazed and Given-Taken so much- I know half the choreography,” she pointed to herself, shaking her head in an almost comical way.

“Really?” Just for a moment, Sunghoon let himself become candid, forgetting about the fact that he was talking to Y/N- he was talking to the girl he had been pinning for at least a couple of months now. “I can see how it’s boring, even we’re tired of it,” he chuckled.

“Exactly!”

Y/N didn’t want to admit it, but she thought he had the prettiest laugh. His teeth peeked from behind his lips, giving her a flash of the pointy fangs everyone on the internet was talking about. The corners of his eyes wrinkled and his brows pulled together ever so slightly. She even noticed the way his nose- sharp and angled- crinkled as his shoulders pulled together, chest moving up and down. The mole near the side of his nose, in her opinion, was the most endearing feature of his.

All of that, just for a laugh that she’d seen and heard a plethora of times but it was different when she was standing so close to him, it seemed brighter and sincere. If she moved just one step, her shoulder would touch his arm.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the doors of the lift opened just then, revealing the sparkling hallways and brightly glowing white lights of the floor Sunghoon was about to get off on. With a sigh, head hanging as he fisted a hand and letting the other ball over it, he strode past the doors. He noticed the way she sheepishly smiled at him when he looked over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you later?” He bid, naturally cracking a smirk.

“I’ll see you later,” she nodded with an assuring smile and anticipating eyes.

When the doors closed, Sunghoon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. All the insecurities he held had drained away and all he could think about was the fact that he had just made her laugh. He had a conversation with her, he bantered with her, he had a moment with her.

She called him darling!

Sunghoon was running towards the dance studio, almost tripping on his laces as he sought out for Jake or Heeseung- someone he could talk to. All he needed at that moment was to let it all out of his chest, to confess what was deemed forbidden by the company.

The first person that walked past him was Jungwon and that was the only sign he needed. Sunghoon was dragging him outside to the hallway, leaving the rest of the members in a dumbfounded state.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Jungwon laughed as he pulled his hand away from Sunghoon’s grip, massaging his wrist while he stared his elder up and down. “You don’t seem alright.”

He wasn’t alright, Sunghoon really wasn’t alright. He felt like he would explode if he thought about Y/N and the conversation they had in the lift again. He felt like pins were pricking at his heart, sticks probing at his brain with every moment that passed by.

The sweat on his forehead and the way his chest heaved was something that didn’t go unnoticed by the young leader. Jungwon blinked curiously, beady eyes mirroring concern and worry.

“What happened?” He placed a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze of assurance.

“I need help,” Sunghoon’s words slipped out robotically, arms dangling at his sides as he gulped. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down, eyes fixating on Jungwon.

“Go on,” he coaxed, preparing himself for the worse while flushing his cheeks.

“I think I’m in love with Y/N.”

There was a moment of silence, the halls eerily empty. Sunghoon could hear his heartbeat, blood pounding against his ears while the realization of his admission weighed at his stomach, chest and heart.

For Jungwon, on the other hand, the moment was a test of his maturity. It took almost all the energy in him to control the muscles in his face, but surely the way his lips shook as he contained a smile didn’t go unnoticed.

“We know,” he simply said, the worry in his demeanor floating away as he gripped Sunghoon’s shoulder tighter. If it weren’t for his shoulder, he’d be bursting into a cackle and be rolling on the floors.

Sunghoon’s expression dropped at the answer, an ounce of rage covering a tank of embarrassment. Jungwon got the message and he was bolting back into the dance studio, laughing hysterically as Sunghoon followed suit with an arm raised in the air. He was ready to throw punches.

“You guys knew and no one bothered to ask me?!”

Chasing Jungwon was a failure because he hid behind everyone he ran across- Niki, Jake, Sunoo… Eventually, he was stuck in a corner, Sunghoon towering over him while the rest of the members gathered around them with curiosity.

“Am I really that obvious?!”

Sunoo looked around confused, nudging at Jay’s shoulder. “What is he talking about?” He whispered to him but all he got was an uninformed shrug.

“What are you talking about?” Jake clapped Sunghoon’s shoulder and he whipped around, hard-eyed with a clenched jaw.

Jake swore that was the first time he felt fear towards someones eyebrows.

“Was it so obvious that I like Y/N?!”

He was yelling, Sunghoon was aware of that. But it didn’t stop Niki from chortling and it didn’t stop Heeseung from wrapping his arms around his shoulders from the back and lightly shaking him.

Jay, Jake, and Sunoo were pleasantly surprised by his reaction, brows raising and mouths forming a tiny circle. Jungwon was still trying to hold in his laughter but completely lost it when he made eye contact with Niki.

“Why are you getting mad?” Heeseung tutted, fixing his beanie and shaking his head.

“Because it’s embarrassing!” Sunghoon whined. He stomped his feet against the hardwood floor like he was a child and the rest of them swore it was their first time seeing him act that way.

“No, it’s not!” Sunoo insisted, furrowing his brows and jutting his bottom lip before padding towards his elder. “I think it’s sweet, actually.”

“How is it sweet?” Sunghoon gaped. “I know nothing about her, we barely talked, she barely knows me- it’s embarrassing!”

It was pretty obvious to the boys surrounding him that he was panicking. Sunghoon rarely ever showed that he was panicking. He usually had a stoic expression about him or a smile that cracked into a laugh. So, it would have been appropriate that they started asking him questions. They were all worried, not worried enough to buy him cake per se, but worried enough to set up a blind date if they had to.

“Even if I do get to know her, I won’t be allowed to date her,” he debated.

“She’s only an intern,” Jay debated. “She’ll be gone in a few months and you can do whatever you want,” he shrugged like it was no big deal, running a hand through his hair.

“But we don’t know each other,” Sunghoon passes him a look of annoyance.

“Then get to know her!” Heeseung enthused. “You have a few more months, use the time wisely.”

It couldn’t possibly be that easy. It surely was easier said than done. Anything was easier said than done. So, walking up to a girl that he thought was the literal embodiment of a goddess was harder than they painted it to be. It was more awkward than he thought it would be.

The rest of the day was filled with shy glances and coy smiles, fingers brushing over each other’s as she passed him a water bottle. He felt butterflies, he made her giggle. He smiled, she was glancing away.

Perhaps that was a start. It was what he saw in most movies and dramas- where the boy and the girl start with nervous gestures. But did it always have a happy ending? Sunghoon decided that it was better to just go with the flow and not overthink it.

The rest of the week was filled with the same ordeal- stolen glances, discrete smiles, and tips of their fingers touching if they were lucky. Well, that was until he found himself sitting alone in the green room when she walked in, a stack of papers in her hands.

In a fleeting moment of confidence, Sunghoon stood up. “Hi,” he said, going as far as to waving his hand when she was standing only a few feet away from him.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, gasping as her eyes connected with Sunghoon. “Hey,” she greeted him back, nodding the stack of papers towards him.

“Do you need help?” He tried.

“No, it’s fine! I’ll be out in a second,” she offered him another grin, then she disappeared around another corner.

Sunghoon had to ask himself if deja vu was the right way to describe how he felt. He found the need to run after her again, accompany her to wherever she was going. Perhaps strike up a proper conversation, get her personal number if he could.

But as his mind was shuffling through millions of scenarios and outcomes, Y/N had already made her way back. She rubbed her palms against her thighs, forcing on a smile that came out too sheepish and clearing her throat.

“What’re you doing here, all alone?” She asked.

“Everyone’s recording, I’m done with my part,” he explained, nodding knowingly as his hands rested on his knees.

The only thing between them was the tiny white table, clustered with half-eaten snacks. Y/N chuckled, knowing that someone from the management would be cleaning it up later. Sunghoon looked at her curiously until he was reminded of his manners.

“Do you want to sit down?” He offered and shimmied to sit on one end of the sofa.

Y/N, with a hesitant grin, accepted and crossed the table, landing on the space beside him. It was a rather small sofa, she wondered how people sat comfortably on it. Her knee touched his, but she didn’t acknowledge it, and neither did she complain.

Sunghoon swore he felt a frisson of electricity dance up his spine. He rubbed his hands together, massaging his wrist and clearing his throat as he looked around the room- anywhere but face the girl that sat before him. She was checking her watch, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“You’re supposed to be home in ten minutes,” she pointed out, moving on to crack her knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m waiting for the car,” he informed.

There was silence again. And he pondered over what he could do or say to keep the conversation going. Maybe he could blabber out a fun fact? Talk about his childhood? Ask her what her favourite colour was?

Perhaps he just needed to go with a gut feeling.

“How’s school?” If he could cringe and slap his own face, he would.

It was clear that Y/N was taken aback by the question. She took exactly three seconds to look the boy up and down before shaking her head and wetting her lips. “Well,” she started. “It’s pretty good, nothing serious, if I have to be honest,” she chuckled.

“That’s good,” Sunghoon mused. “I always wondered what it would be like if I went to college,” he admitted, a coy smile spreading against his lips.

“Really?” She gaped. “Believe me, college sucks. I’d rather live your life,” she laughed.

“What, you want to perform and give interviews all day?” He retorted. Y/N responded with a shrug, pursing her lips as she cocked her head. “It’s so tiring,” he drawled.

“But it seems so fun! Living a celebrity life with your best friends has got to be a dream come true,” she insisted, oblivious to the way Sunghoon shook his head.

“Fine, it is fun,” he agreed. “But it’s really up to the person’s preferences.”

“Touche.”

“You work here, that’s got to be somewhat fun,” he offered with a shrug.

“It’s only an internship,” she softly reasoned, shaking her head ever so lightly.

“How much longer does it last?” He asked.

There was a part of Sunghoon that hoped her internship would last much shorter than he predicted. The faster she got off the job, the faster he could ask her out on a date. The faster he got off the job, the more confident he could be around her.

“I don’t know, actually.”

His heart dropped.

“What do you mean?” He asked, feeling his breath catch in his throat. The squeak in his voice went unnoticed by her

“Well, the internship was supposed to end months ago,” she mused, her hand gestures becoming animated as she continued. “But Carleen keeps extending it. She says after I finish this semester’s exams, she’ll let me be the resident therapist,” she jazzed her hands comedically and in any other situation, Sunghoon would have found it funny.

“That’s great,” his laugh was clearly forced, eyes moving from side to side as he patted his knee.

Y/N didn’t hear it though. “But that’s very unrealistic, I’m pretty sure I’m only staying until my exams start,” she waved it off.

Sunghoon doesn’t remember what he said after that. But the conversation continued and he had her laugh playing in his head on repeat for the next eight minutes.

Y/N wasn’t stupid or dumb or blind. It was her job to keep an eye on those seven boys, and it didn’t take long for her to figure out every single detail and characteristic of each. So, she knew Sunghoon usually never chatted with anyone in the management. She knew he was a shy kid that preferred to keep to himself. She knew he liked being in his tiny bubble, enjoying himself and the glory he was brought.

She could have easily chalked it up to their similar ages. For someone that barely met people his age (apart from the rest of the members), it would make sense if he craved some socializing outside the realm of stardom.

Yet it was the way he reached over to pat her knee when she made a joke that made her think it was something more. It was the way he breathed down her neck when he reached over her shoulder to grab a water bottle that made her fluster under him. It was the way he looked at her with starry eyes like he would hold the entire universe and wrap it into a present if she asked for it that made her heart flutter.

However, when Sunghoon’s phone rang, they knew their conversation had to be cut short. The dread in their stomachs was irrefutable and the way they both groaned, radiated just how much they were enjoying each other’s company. He didn’t want to leave, and neither did Y/N want him to.

He told the driver to give him just five minutes before he looked at Y/N. He was hesitant to say anything, holding back the many options of suggestions he had. But what good would it be if he let anxiety get the best of him? Couldn’t he take the opportunity that was given to him on a silver platter?

“Would you like to come with me?”

The words slipped out of his mouth without his permission but he didn’t regret it. Despite her look of bewildering shock, it was the fact that she gulped and gaped her mouth that made him think she was contemplating an answer.

“I… Uh,” she raised a brow, cocking her head towards him. “Excuse me- I’m, sorry, to where exactly?” She implored.

“Anywhere,” he enthused, raising his arms as his eyes widened. “We have the rest of the day for ourselves, we can do anything,” he proposed.

It would be unprofessional of her to even consider his offer… But she had so much fun with him. She would whine about it if she could. She loved the way her heart filled with butterflies when he glanced at her and she liked that the subtle touches he gave her that left trails of flowers on her skin. Not to mention, he was the only one that bothered to talk to her; to get to know her.

“Won’t we get in trouble?” She mumbled.

“I don’t care.”

Thus, Sunghoon was running down the halls, hand in hand with Y/N with a beaming smile. She had managed to grab her beige trenchcoat before they ran out the doors of the Hybe building, chests rumbling with giggles when they managed to get into the car.

“Where are we going?” She asked him, hands still weaved together.

“It’s a surprise,” he grinned at her, his nose crinkling in the process.

Soon enough, she found herself standing in front of the National Museum of Korea. Y/N wasn’t expecting it but neither was she about to oppose it. Sunghoon dragged her inside by her wrist, yelling about how excited he was.

For the sake of safety and privacy, Sunghoon wore a mask (as did Y/N) and his hair was covered by a baseball hat. They wandered the museum in awe, never letting go of each other’s hands as they gawked at the various sculptures and paintings.

“I’ve always wanted to come here,” she confessed, looking at Sunghoon with eyes that sparkled under the light.

“I’m glad I brought you here, then,” she couldn’t see it, but he was smirking at her, his chest swelling as he realized that they had been holding hands for over an hour.

As he let the accomplishment settle in, he understood why people swooned over naive romance. He understood why it was so easy to get lost in an emotion deemed too beautiful. He understood the turmoil behind the Boy In Luv song. He understood why most songs revolved around love and he understood why people wrote poetry for it.

He understood why people chased it.

Then they were wrapped up in the moment, staring into the eyes of each other like the way they described it in romance novels. They felt time slow down for around them, they felt like they were the only people left on earth. And Y/N didn’t know why she felt that way except for the fact that she knew he made her feel like she was on top of the world.

If it weren’t for their masks, Sunghoon would have pulled her towards him by the waist and kissed her right then and there. Because she looked adorable with untamed hair and she was pretty in beige, the trenchcoat wrapping around her frame. Because he’d been fantasizing about that very moment since that damned compliment.

She only realized that her hands nimbly rested on his chest, fingertips touching his white sweatshirt like she was touching a cloud, when Sunghoon cleared his throat. She only realized she was standing on her toes when a kid ran past them while whining for a lollipop.

Sunghoon only realized that he was leaning to her height when she patted his chest. He only acknowledged the kid and the lollipop when she chuckled. She was chuckling at their situation and she was chuckling at the way they seemed ignorant to their feelings.

When they left the museum, Y/N simply stated that she’d go home by metro. Sunghoon, despite the voice in his head, didn’t argue and dropped her off at the metro station. They waved goodbye, awkwardly walking away from each other.

As Y/N sat in an empty seat on the train, she realized that he had taken her on a date. It was a date, an unofficial date but a date regardless. And he had taken her to a museum, as cliche as it seemed.

If they didn’t suddenly start acting hesitant, would he have taken her to dinner? Would she have offered him to visit her house?

Y/N cursed out loud when she reached her apartment. She slammed her door out of frustration and slid down until she was slumped onto the floor. She spent an hour obsessing over the number of different ways her night could have played out. She replayed every conversation and every step she took until the butterflies turned into a list of what-ifs.

That list of what-ifs, though, cancelled itself throughout the week as he constantly kept gazing at her, dreamily grinning for only a few seconds. The lingering touches turned into blooming roses, grins turning into smirks, chats turning into banter.

It was about time that Y/N snapped as well. She couldn’t take it, she didn’t want to take it. She couldn’t pretend like what she felt for him wasn’t just some starstruck crush. She couldn’t pretend like she didn’t swoon over him just because he dressed well. She couldn’t go about her days, knowing that she could change the way things would turn out.

So, when she bumped into Sunghoon in the washroom while he was taking a picture of himself from the mirror, a mustard shirt on and hair all fluffy, she couldn’t help but admire. When he turned towards her, eyes wide as he questioned why her mouth kept opening and closing, she swiftly brought her hands to his chest, pushing him against the textured grey walls.

“What’re you doing-”

He was cut off by her when she kissed him, lips pressing into his as she stood on the tips of her toes and gripped his collar like her life depended on it. And Sunghoon didn’t see it coming- his entire body froze up when his eyes squeezed shut. His arms stayed hovering in the air, his phone fell on the counter.

They stayed that way for exactly two heartbeats. It took two heartbeats for him to realize what was happening and it took two heartbeats for him to follow her lead. Then his body hunched into hers, his hands softly gripping her arms as he opened his mouth, letting the kiss continue while their heads turned in sync.

Sunghoon swore he never felt as confident in himself before as he held onto her, supporting her while his warm lips moved against her chapped. His stomach was going to collapse, butterflies multiplying with every passing second while she arched into him.

If he could watch the moment transpire from above, he would. If he could hold her against him forever, he would. If heaven were a real place, he’d say it was kissing her.

They were stumbling on their feet as Sunghoon flipped them, pushing her against the wall instead. His arm trailed to her waist, the other hand pressed into the wall beside her head. And they were heaving for air, despite treating each other’s lips like it was oxygen.

And it was that moment that lead to their current predicament; Sunghoon buried under her ivory duvet while he traced shapes into her back, lips occasionally meeting her shoulder. She held onto the arm that wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his chest every time she shuffled away, making her giggles ricochet off her beige painted walls.

“You really do like the colour beige, don’t you?”

The couple laughed, chest rumbling while Y/N turned around to face him. Her fingers traced his jaw, an uncontrollable smile on her face as her tongue lightly sat between her teeth. He leaned into her touch, letting his hands wrap around her wrists.

Sunghoon looked at her softly, so delicately drinking in her frame as she ran her finger down his nose and then proceeded to rest her palms against his chest. He chuckled, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he pulled her closer.

His dreams were coming true at that moment, everything he wished for was finally coming true. He could swim in his happiness forever as long as Y/N was in his arms but that feeling left as soon as it had come.

“You know I can get fired if they find out about this?” She muttered.

“We just slept together and that’s what you’re thinking about?” He furrowed his brows, smiling hesitantly.

“Then what else do I think about?” She chuckled.

“How incredibly amazing I was in bed?” Sunghoon nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and her hands instinctively dug into his hair, soft tuffs sitting right at her fingertips. She giggled harder when he continued trailing his lips along her jaw, lashes fluttering against her skin

“Jeez, how confident,” Y/N rolled her eyes, letting her chin rest on his shoulder.

“I’d like to stay this way forever,” he confessed.

“Me too,” she hummed. Her eyes fixated on her ceiling and her fan as Sunghoon continued exploring her frame, finger gliding along the small of her back and Y/N dug her nails into his bicep; only then realizing just how much muscle he had. “Don’t you think it’s weird that we know nothing about each other?”

“Hmm?” He raised his brows, slumping against her and letting out a whine.

“I mean, we’ve barely been on a date,” she continued.

With a sigh, Sunghoon rolled off her and rested his head on the pillow. His hair splayed, revealing his forehead and uncovering his eyes. Y/N took a moment to appreciate him before he pulled her to sleep on his chest, his fingers combing through her hair as she hung on to his arm.

Sunghoon pondered for a moment. “My favourite colour is white,” he started, and she noticed the way he started grinning through her lashes. “My favourite ice cream flavour is coffee-”

“Mine too!” Y/N chuckled, covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

“See, we already have so much in common,” he smirked, lightly shaking his head as he eyed the ceiling. “We can learn all about each other on how many ever dates as you’d like to go on,” he assured.

“I’m taking you on one next time,” her smile reached her cheeks.

“Not afraid of being fired?”

Y/N tutted, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Carleen will have to end my internship soon enough, anyway,” she waved it off and scrunched her nose.

Sunghoon didn’t know how many times he laughed but his cheeks were hurting by the end of the night.

His other arm wrapped around her as well, rolling her around until he was hovering over her again, his hands on either side of her head. His hair fell over his forehead, the necklace she asked him to keep on dangling over her face. And at that moment, all seemed right in the world as he kissed her again, each peck punctuated with her tugging at his hair.

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angel-writes-skz-here · 1 month ago

Text

Seduction

Prof! Minho x Student! Reader Synopsis: Moving to Korea for higher education comes with its perks. But what happens when you play a game of seduction with your new Professor? Will he crack? Or is he just too cold? Warnings: SMUT, protected p in v, dom LK, a little name calling, drinking, mentions of smoking devils lettuce. A/N: I hope you guys like this! Not sure how long it'll be. I apologize if I'm slow getting stuff out this week. Please comment if you want to be tagged. I appreciate the love and support and if Lee Know is ooc plz let me know. I did my best with it, though. Next Chapter

You pass through the crowd, sweaty drunk bodies colliding and brushing up against you as you make your way to the bar. It was the last night of summer vacation before your first day of university. Transferring from the states was a huge deal, your parents couldn’t be prouder, and you knew this wasn’t the normal college experience where you could goof off and mommy and daddy would pay for your next round of the same classes, so you used the summer to blow off steam.

Parties, drunken one-night stands, even dabbling in smoking weed a few times just to give it a shot. To take the rebellion in your veins and express it before it was time to buckle down.

That’s why you’re at the club tonight, trying to maybe meet a friend, granted it was hard moving to a new country where the language was less than ideal to learn, let alone in three months. You also left a broken-hearted boy at home, who swore that the minute you came back your relationship would resume. You agreed to that, thinking that you would miss him a hell of a lot more than you do.

At the bar you order another drink, the alcohol causing you to sway every so slightly, as you sip on it, you bump into a handsome stranger. He’s slightly taller than you, his eyes dark and brooding, mouth formed into a tight line, slightly muscular and somewhat intimidating.

“Sorry,” you giggle. He looks you up and down, a blush blooming on your cheeks. His features are striking even in the dark lightening. It causes your heart rate to climb.

“Hmm,” he purses his lips and turns his attention back to his friends. He's cute, so you decide to go for it. You tap his shoulder, noticing how he tenses under your touch. He turns around with a quirked brow.

“I’m y/n,” you stick out your hand, tipsy but sober enough to feel the slightly awkward tension.

The stranger rakes his eyes up and down your body, his gaze intense as he almost studies you.

“Minho,” he shakes your hand cautiously.

“Would you like to dance?” you ask batting your eyelashes before wrapping your lips around the straw and sucking up the last bit of your drink. He glances at the dance floor. His better judgment tells him not to, but he’s also noticed you throughout the night, the guys you’d let buy you drinks, the one’s you’ve already danced with and while he would consider himself a slightly humble man, he knew if you walked away you’d dance with someone else, someone that wasn’t as good as him, after all who knew what could happen to such a little pretty thing like yourself if he wasn't protecting you? He was the best option in the whole club that night, or so he told himself, so reluctantly, he downs his drink and takes your hand.

Your breath hitches the way his skin feels against yours, his hand in yours, it feels like fate. Like something out of a movie. It feels like something totally right and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth as he dominantly weaves through the crowd in front of you.

You reach the dance floor and immediately you turn your backside to him, pressing against him as you sway your hips. He watches you methodically. Minho is a smart man, never allowing himself to really give in to too many of his desires, and yet here you are, almost nineteen years old, grinding against his crotch without a care in the world. He didn’t want to touch you, well no he did, but he didn’t want to let himself. You were temptation in skimpy black dress though.

Your eyes, the way the color just mesmerized him, the way your body moved causing him to think of taking you to the bathroom right then and there and showing you what a real man can do for you. The way he wanted to taste your lips and tongue for himself, though he wouldn’t show it; any of it. Truth be told you couldn’t read him.

But when his hands decide to rest on your hips, you feel the electricity course through your veins. The way it draws goosebumps on your skin despite the thick muggy air of the club.

You grin to yourself, feeling as he presses his hips against yours just barely. It’s not long before you notice something else too, feeling him press into the swell of your ass, causing your heartrate to thrum in your ears again. You aren’t sure how long you dance for, time and the music fade into the background as you feel his chest press against your back, his face coming down beside your ear. He’s so close that the world doesn’t feel real, like it’s only the two of you. His breath on your ear driving you wild.

After a while you get the courage up to look at his face, the haze of the night filling your senses but you notice the concentration on his face, like he’s holding himself back. You get a cheeky idea, turning your self around quickly and throwing you arms around his neck. He looks at you almost surprised before quickly masking it with a stoic look.

You grin up at him, barely biting the edge of your lip.

“Come on, I don’t bite,” you wink, “Unless you want me to.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, swaying the both of you to the beat as your noses oh so barely touch, the tiny hairs kissing each other. You can see something primal shift in his eyes, like he can’t do this for much longer.

You raise up, lips brushing his ear.

“Minho,” your voice drips with desire and lust. His grip on your hips tightens as you say his name. You chuckle in his ear.

“You want me,” you utter over the music, tongue then flicking out over the shell of his ear. You can feel him take a deep breath his chest bulging out a little against yours, trying to steady himself; but he's unsteady in your grip.

“Don’t hold back, I’m right here. Ready to be used, ready to please,” you murmur just over the music. You place a kiss just below his ear, teeth grazing his skin. He growls, his cock growing tight in his pants. He rushes you off to the bathroom, pulling you so fast you almost stumble and you have to stifle a giggle. The bathroom is empty, lights bright, humming despite the muffled sound of the music, and Minho shoves you into a stall, connecting your lips to his in a rough, possessive kiss. He tastes of soju, a little bit of beer, and a breath mint he must have put in on the way to the bathroom. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, rough, dominating, and you can feel the little remnant of the mint left in his mouth as his tongue glides over yours, forcing the tiny candy onto your tongue.

You moan into his mouth, his hand coming up around your throat, not to choke, but to hold, possessing you. There’s a mix of teeth, lips, tongue, and ragged breathing from the two of you before his lips move down to your neck, your fingers threading through his hair.

“Fuck you smell so good,” he groans. You chuckle quietly as he sucks a harsh mark on your collar bone.

“Ah, shit,” you playfully giggle with your eyes closed as he lets go. He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, grabbing a condom.

You can feel the pulse between your legs, the dampness to your panties at the thought of him ramming into you. He drops his pants just below his length, ripping the condom open with his teeth as you stare.

He’s huge.

You aren’t sure how it’s gonna fit.

The sight of him alone has your walls clenching. He slides the condom on, forces you to turn around, smushing your right cheek against the door. He hikes your dress up, over your ass, smirks to himself at the slutty lacey underwear you’re wearing before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“Wear these slutty things for me, baby? Hmm? Or did you wear em just so some poor guy would fuck you like the whore you are?”

He pulls your under wear down around your ankles and you whimper against the door, his head teasing your slick folds.

His hand comes down, colliding with your left ass cheek, a yelp following as your eyes close. He shoves his cock in and you groan against the door, walls immediately fluttering causing him to curse under his breath. He doesn’t take it slow, doesn’t wait for you to be ready, he just drills, quick and fast chasing his release and yours.

The door jiggles as he thrusts quickly. Your hands flex at your sides, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes every nerve ending in your body come alive.

Minho notices the way your hands flex.

“Aww, go ahead, touch yourself, show me how you do it when you secretly hope someone’s watching you.” He smirks.

Your hands reach down, despite the redness in your cheeks from both your heartrate and embarrassment. Your rub tight little circles on your clit, your body arching into your hand.

“Mm, so pretty. You follow directions well, fuck you’re so tight.” He grumbles as his breathing becomes ragged. He begins grunting as your hand moves sloppier, your climax close to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you warn as you feel the coil getting too tight to the point of bursting. Minho doesn’t respond, only slams his hips as hard as he can, causing temporary stars in your vision from the pleasure as you wrap around his cock and explode. A loud, pornographic noise leaves you and he comes a few thrusts after.

He leans against your back, catching his breath for a moment. Both of you completely and totally sober now. He pulls out of you, tying up the condom and tossing it in the trash can. Your faces are flushed, and you make a mental note of how cute he looks with his skin a shade of pink and lightly shiny from sweat, the ends of his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you pull your panties up and smooth your dress down.

“Minho huh? I would’ve named you Maxho.” You snicker to yourself, earning a smirk from the man you just met not two hours ago.

You unlock the door to the stall walking out to check out had bad your hair is messed up.

“Thanks,” he mutters sparing you one last glance in the mirror.

“No kiss goodbye? Nothing to remember you by?” You fake pout.

“That hickey should do the trick.” He smirks. You glance in the mirror to see the purple mark.

You smile before turning back to look at yourself in the mirror, beginning to fix your hair, before you feel a pair of hands spin you around and hold you close, lips finding yours in a needy and hot kiss. You rifle your hands through his hair one last time, tongues greeting one another again, before he pulls away and squeezes your ass, only giving you a moment together before leaving the bathroom and your life forever.

The next morning you’re getting ready for school when you notice the purple mark, the tips of your fingers brushing over it as you remember Minho and your encounter. Not many one-night stands have you wishing to see the guy again, but something about Minho, the way he wasn’t intimidated by you, or shy about letting you know who was in control, it lit up a fire in you. One that you couldn’t extinguish.

You chose to wear a cute skirt and top to match, doing light make up before rushing out the door. You go through each class, having to cross campus a few times as some classes were far from the other.

You'd even made a friend, Duri from your math class.

Finally the end of the day comes and you're running from the front of campus all the way to the back to Psych. 101. The bell rings as you step foot in the door. Most seats are taken, except for the ones up front.

The teacher is standing with his back to the class and you slip in the front row, putting you laptop and text book on your desk.

The room is silent except for a few whispers from other students. You feel small compared to the big room. The teacher begins to write his name on the board.

“Professor Lee,” you whisper to yourself.

“Good morning, everyone. I assume you’re all here for Psychology 101.” You take a deep breath. His voice is familiar, where have you heard it before? He’s in dark brown jacket and black slacks, hair is brown and neatly combed.

“I will be your professor this semester, Professor Lee.” He turns around you can’t help the audible gasp that leaves your mouth.

Minho.

Your eyes are wide, body stiff as he scans the room, eyes stopping a little too long on you, not showing any physical signs of recognizing you, but he does. Immediately.

Your eyes follow him, like you’re waiting for something, some kind of special little acknowledgement. However, you get nothing. He collects the papers from his desk and walks up to the front row. Handing out a stack of papers to each area of students, passing the papers along to each other. He comes to you, on the end, and hands you the stack of papers, your eyes meet briefly, but he won’t linger.

“This here, is your syllabus. I emailed one to each of you but just in case you have a paper copy as well. It has our lesson topics for the year,” he sets the stack down on the table, despite your hand being out for him to hand them to you, his eyes scanning the rows behind you. You furrow your brow slightly, but purse your lips and listen to his sweet voice.

“It has the classroom supplies on here. Things that should be common knowledge like your laptop and textbook. There will be no sleeping in my class, there will be no cheating, if you are caught cheating, I will automatically fail you and you will be forced to retake the class.” He explains.

“The door to my room will lock at 1 pm sharp. If you are late, you will miss class for the day. Do not email me for notes, you must get them from someone else or simply do without them.” He walks back over to his desk.

He spends a few minutes on the syllabus, then talking about the Milgram’s experiment in detail, already having his class takes notes.

“So Milgram wanted to know how far people would go to obey authority. He had people administer what they believed to be electric shocks to those who gave incorrect answers on a test. Many people continued administering the shocks despite the pleas and cries of the person being shocked, simply because they were told to. Proving how powerful authority really can be in someone’s mind.” He finishes as the bell rings, signifying the end of your class.

You take a deep breath, saving your notes on your lap top, slowly packing up, eyes flitting to Minho as he walks over to his desk not looking up.

Minho can feel it, the way you’re staring at him. The way your eyes watch his every move, but things are different now. You’re his student.

Just. His student.

You wait until the room is empty, finally slipping your laptop into your bag.

“So, Professor Maxho, we meet again.” You smirk and Minho glances up from his desk.

“Ms. Y/l/n, if you wish to speak with me about class work my office hours are Monday, Wednesday and Friday, 3 pm to 5 pm. I am very busy and you have other classes to attend.”

“It’s the first day Professor fussy pants. Besides you're my last class of the day. Maybe I want to get to know my new teacher,” you sing. He keeps his breathing even, shoulders slightly rising and falling. His jaw tight.

“You will refer to me as Professor Lee, nothing else, do you understand?” He snaps.

You walk around the desk, resting your lower back against the edge, the close proximity causing him to face you.

“Yes sir,” you tug on your lip.

“That hickey you gave me-,” you go to move your top to display it, but his voice stops you.

“Ms. Y/l/n,” he breathes.

“You are to reach out to me for class work, and class work only. Whatever you do on your own time off campus is none of my business." He says, jaw clenching.

“It was last night,” you mumble and he stands up, walking closer to you, you’re heart jumping in your chest. He’s only slightly taller than you, but his gaze is enough to make it feel like your significantly smaller. You're caged between him and the desk.

“That was a one-time thing. You are my student now, you and I will remain professional. I refuse to lose my job and my reputation due to a frivolous one night stand,” he bellows quietly. You look between eyes.

Cold.

Serious.

Unwavering.

You purse your lips as you bounce yourself off his desk causing him to back up a little.

“Yes, Professor Lee.” You mock respect and turn to walk away, a smirk on your face as your hips sway dramatically. Minho watches for a moment before tearing himself away.

Challenge accepted.

Tags: @breakmeoff @thelovelybireader @crystal005

Do not repost my work

Love notes and comments are greatly appreciated!

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charliemwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Part 7 is finally here! I only gave this a quick look over so if there are any glaring issues (like a random cut off sentence) please let me know! I was just so excited to get this one out.

Content: Brandon.

For all the power and influence it has amassed, SpecGru is a notoriously discreet and secretive operation. Mind, no one’s ever strolling down the street shouting their criminal affiliations for God and everyone to hear, but even by criminal standards, SpecGru is like a collective boogeyman. By the time most anyone knows they’re there, it’s already too late – and the rare (verbal) survivors only ever see masks and guns.

Granted, no small part of SpecGru’s prestige comes from whispered stories and unconfirmed rumors. Criminals are locker room gossips, the lot of them. Not that it’s completely unfounded. An execution is an execution, whether someone died with all their teeth and nails or not. (Usually not)

Few people know Price as more than a shadowy theoretical. (Someone must be in charge, that’s how the mafia works.) Even fewer know his face, never mind his name. It’s just good business that way.

In fact, SpecGru’s entire inner circle is shrouded in mystery. There’s not just the gray silhouette of the Don looming over their enemies’ heads. There are the lieutenants to contend with as well, acting on his direct authority, speaking on his behalf (with permission, of course) in his absence.

And then there’s Price’s right hand, the de facto boss should something happen. His heir, for all intents and purposes.

For those that have met Price in person, and by extension his few but devoted confidants, there’s always debate.

Is it Soap, loud and brash, but sharp as a whip? A decisive man, affable with a hidden mean streak?

Or is it Ghost, the quiet and calculating figure always at his side? A deadly and brutal enemy, shrewd and observant?

Kyle lets them stew in their assumptions and reminds himself that they’ll learn eventually – or they’ll be dead. He’s not fussed either way. It would suit SpecGru just fine if a few of those knobs keeled over sooner rather than later.

If only they knew that the hand that would one day grip their leashes was currently holding your purse so that you could pet a cute dog.

Not that Kyle minds; you have good taste. In purses, that is – though the dog isn’t half bad. A fluffy white and grey thing with a stumpy tail, practically crawling onto your pretty blue skirt as you coo and fawn. He started recording the minute you handed him your bag. (Price owes him for this.)

“His name is Mister Beans,” the uni girl enthuses to you.

You practically sob. “Mister Beans!”

He’s loath to hurry you along, but he’s supposed to meet up with Price for a Business meeting in only a half hour. Thankfully, you’re a considerate sort and don’t linger for long.

“Thank you so much, have a great day!” you cheer to the young woman. Then you turn back to Kyle, smiling huge. “Wasn’t he so cute?”

He chuckles. “It was. Wish I could have pet him, but white hair on this suit…”

You hum sympathetically. “I have a lint roller in my apartment.”

“I’ll scratch the next one,” he promises, offering your purse back.

You take it with your far hand and another mumbled “thank you,” then loop your closer arm through his. Don’t even seem to think about it, just accept the escort automatically. Kyle tries not to beam with pride. He used to have to prompt you, holding his elbow out at an awkward angle for you to get the hint. Now, you reach for the arm of whoever you’re with on instinct – as you should. (Another thing Price owes him for.)

“Do you like little dogs?” you ask, strolling with him for your apartment.

In the office, you’re a speedy little thing. Zooming from your desk to Price’s and back at velocity deserving of a ticket. Soap calls you a busy bee and it’s apt. Fluttering to and fro with stacks of papers or your tablet (“Reginald” you call it) everyone knows to make way at the click-click of your smart heels.

Outside, though, your purposeful stride slows to something less awe-inspiringly machinelike. Little Miss at work is a much different creature from Little Miss off the clock – but Kyle quite likes both.

“My mum had a little white dog while I was growing up. Crusty old thing,” he explains. “Prefer medium sized myself. Like a corgi.”

You giggle. “Like the royal family?”

“Oi, I liked ‘em before that.”

You just laugh harder at his defensive tone, patting his arm. He’s always impressed by how fearlessly you joke and tease him and the others. Have taken everything in stride from the beginning, didn’t even flinch when you first met Simon. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think you had no idea just who you arched your eyebrows at this morning because of a “scheduling disagreement.”

“Speaking of dogs…” you mutter, mirth disappearing.

He follows your gaze through the clear glass of the building’s entry vestibule. Your ex is standing inside, already spotted you and fluffing up like the cock he is.

“Mind keeping back, doll?” Kyle murmurs.

You make a noise of protest even as you hand him your keys. “He’s not going to do anything after what Soap did.”

There’s an ugly black cast around his hand and up his wrist. Kyle smirks at him through the door.

“Rather not take any chances,” he replies.

You huff a bit, but quietly slip your arm from his, letting him take the lead into the building. (He still holds the door for you of course – he’s not a numpty.)

“Get the fuck out, mate,” Kyle says as soon as the door opens.

Brandon looks downright taken aback. “And who the fuck are you?”

“None of your business,” you interrupt, stepping up beside Kyle.

“The hell it’s not!” Brandon replies, taking an angry (stupid) step forward. Kyle mirrors him, making a point of loosening up his shoulders. In a surprising display of good sense, Brandon stops there. “Look, bunny, a high-value man needs a high-value woman.”

Your voice comes out flat and unimpressed. “And that’s you, is it? A high-value man?

Brandon rolls his eyes but sighs, as if he’s trying to be patient with you. Kyle’s fingers twitch. His piece is burning a hole against his back.

“Obviously. I have a degree, a six-figure salary, and two properties – all under forty. I’m objectively attractive, work out regularly, don’t smoke. I’m a good catch, don’t kid yourself that you can do better.”

At Kyle’s elbow, you go very still. The type of still that precedes blood and screaming. He’s seen it in Ghost before.

“Then why are you here?” you ask, tongue dripping acid. “Since you’re such a catch.”

Brandon sighs and shakes his head, trying for fond exasperation and only achieving constipated.

“I’m not willing to just throw away two years. I’ve invested a lot in this relationship, and we can still make it work.” It actually starts to make Kyle nauseous, the way he talks about you like a business decision. “I mean, you have some things to make up for but eventually, we can go back to the way we were.”

“And what,” you say through gritted teeth, consonants sharp enough to pierce skin, “do I have to make up for?”

Kyle listens, flabbers absolutely gasted, as Brandon answers.

“You ran off to play desk bunny for a man I don’t know. God only knows what ‘favor’ you did to land that job. You’ve lowered your value as a marriable woman but there are ways to make it up to me—”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

Kyle’s ears ring like the first time he heard his mum curse.

Brandon looks taken aback too. You don’t give either of them a chance to respond.

“I know it’s not fucking me. Because if you were talking to me, you’d be stupider than you look.”

Brandon’s face flushes with anger. He takes another step forward. Kyle takes two in return, shaking his head in warning. Unfortunately, Brandon doesn’t know how to read his face any better than yours.

“C’mon, mate, it’s common sense. A lock that opens for any key and all that.”

Kyle’s heard it before. “Women ain’t locks, mate.”

“If you don’t get out of this building right fucking now, I will ruin your life,” you snarl.

Brandon does a double take. “Is that a threat? You can’t—"

“You bet your pasty ass it is,” you reply without missing a beat. You raise your voice every time he tries to interrupt, barreling through his weak protest like a train. “Fifteen fucking minutes. That’s all it would take to destroy you, your stupid sister, your bitchy mother, your pervert father, and that fucking slag you got pregnant twice.”

Kyle’s eyebrows rise with each word until he’s fairly certain they’ve floated up to the ceiling somewhere.

Brandon, though… Brandon’s face is ashen.

“How… how did you…?”

“Get. The fuck. Out.”

Kyle doesn’t give him the option to refuse. He scruffs Brandon by the back of his bland suit and shoves him out the first door of the vestibule. It closes and locks just as he turns around, a rebuttal finally juddering to his bloodless lips. You haven’t even turned to watch him go.

Kyle approaches you feeling a bit like he does coming to Price with shit news when he’s already pissed.

He almost says, you sure know how to pick ‘em – but thinks better of it. There’s practically frost forming beneath your feet, the air around you is icy.

“Walk you up, little miss?” he asks, offering his arm.

You gently take his arm and exhale heavily. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

You invite him in at your door. Your hands are shaking a bit. He politely accepts, shooting Price the others a text that he’ll be a bit late. He’s not about to leave you in a state.

As usual, you step out of your shoes at the door, leaving you in your shimmery stockings, then pad to the kitchen.

“Tea?” you ask as he follows.

“I haven’t the time, doll, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re alright before heading out.”

You turn, expression softening. Just like that, you’re back to your usual self, sweet as honey.

“I’ll be alright, I think,” you reply, sighing. “That was a long time coming.”

He leans his shoulder in the doorway, unable to help chuckling at the memory of your ex’s gobsmacked expression. The corners of your mouth curl up in shy amusement.

“Seemed like it,” he replies. “We should weaponize those f-bombs you dropped.”

That coaxes a giggle out. “Graves would be first on my list.”

“The boss’s too.” And oh, Kyle can’t wait to tell Price about this. (As if he needed another reason to hate Brandon and adore you.)

“Christ,” you groan, “you’re going to tell him about this, aren’t you?”

He’s at least able to muster an apologetic grimace. “You know I have to, sweets.”

“Suppose I’ll get the really good tea tomorrow,” you muse.

“He liked those pistachio scones from the corner café, too.”

You light up. It just so happens that they bake your favorite muffins too. “Good idea.”

“I’m full of ‘em.”

You snort, but there’s a fond smile on your face. Regretfully, he notes the time on the stove clock behind you.

“You’re sure you’re alright here by yourself?” he asks.

“I’m sure,” you promise, crossing to give him a warm hug. “I lock the door and windows like Simon told me.”

“Atta girl,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“Seven sharp!” you chirp.

He pauses at the door, “You call if there’s any trouble.”

You poke your head around the corner. “You don’t sign my paychecks; you can’t tell me what to do.”

He points right back at you. “That’s from the bossman direct.”

“Then he can tell me himself.”

He arches his brows. You blink.

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

He chokes back a chuckle. “Sweet dreams, little miss.”

“Get home safe, Kyle!”

As far as business meetings go, one with Los Vaqueros is almost pleasant. Sure, they always try to overprice their products, but haggling them down is practically a game between Price and Vargas by now. The shipping agreement between them and SpecGru is long established by now, a major link in the international arms market.

“Negotiations” are relaxed enough that Rudy and Valeria are playing cards with Ghost and Soap at the sitting table, whiskey glasses at their elbows. The plan for the next six months is all but set when Price suddenly jerks. In an instant, his face goes dark, shoulders tense.

“Something wrong, hermano?” Vargas asks.

“I’m getting a call.”

Soap and Ghost snap to attention.

There are only a handful of people that can reach Price during a meeting. All but one is in this room.

As he brings the phone to his ear, Kyle sees your name on the screen.

“Yes, love?” he answers.

Even from a couple feet away, Kyle can hear your voice through the receiver – high and panicked. Kyle’s already reaching for his keys.

“He fucking what?” Price barks.

Soap and Ghost jump to their feet, cards and drinks forgotten.

“Barricade the door, get a knife. We’ll be right there.”

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Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #mafia boss price #mafia!au #assistant!reader #oddly wholesome for a mafia au #brandon the crash dummy

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planetaryupscaled · 1 year ago

Text

Disenchanted

Male Reader x Karina

Tags: 6k, cheating, oral, story heavy

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

They say everything happens for a reason, if life gives you lemons turn them into lemonade. It always struck me as a strange saying a little too cut and dry. Like a mantra to lead my life with, it had been an upwards struggle. Devoid of any formal degree, in many respects I was a self-made man, grafting from the bottom of the pile and slowly making my way upwards, to the light, the fabled promised land of success, this is my story.

It was early 2020, still fresh from the Covid-19 meltdown. Looking back on it, we really did make a fuss over nothing, it was world ending stuff. Fresh out of a failed college career I had just turned 20, studies had never really held much of my attention, crashing out a year before graduation. Saying this, I was good at building networks, street smart you could say, I knew a good deal when I saw one and over the years, I would develop the timing and nous to know when exactly to pull the trigger. With a heavy interest in films, my main aim was to get into the industry by any means necessary. Luckily enough for me I knew a few people who were runners on in the SM Entertainment back in the day. The pay was basic if that and the job was menial, filled with odd jobs like fetching coffee or printing out stuffs. Nevertheless, it was a start.

“Seriously, where is that guy? the new runner guy, lanky looking kid,” Shouted the set manager.

“Ahem…” I replied, standing next to the sweaty looking man.

“What’s your name? You know what, it doesn’t matter, get a coffee to waiting room 4, quick kid,” he said, bits of saliva spraying everywhere.

God, I hated that guy, his breath always reeked in a mixture of cheap coffee and banana. Reluctantly I knocked on the door, prepping a fake smile for whomever was going to open it.

“Hey,” A chirpy voice said.

My mouth was lolling open slightly, mouth running dry as I struggled to form a suitable response. She laughed softly at my starstruck reaction, holding out her hand to shake mine. It was Karina. She was most teenagers wet dream, well, technically still is.

She was just as attractive as the in the magazines, her smokey brown eyes complimenting her tight, tone, bronze physique. I felt an instant twinge in my pants as I willed myself not to show my arousal, hoping to od it was not obvious that I was attracted to her. Brushing myself down mentally, I took a deep breath and fixed my shirt holding out hand containing her hot beverage. There was something about her, despite her arresting looks that calmed me. Maybe it was the kindness in her eyes or the kindness in her voice, whatever it was, it worked.

“Your- coffee,” I managed.

“How old are you?” She said, taking a sip of her latte.

“Erm… 20- Miss,” I replied.

“Seriously, call me Karina,” She smiled.

“You are pretty cute,” She followed up, handing me the piece of paper with a list of her requirements.

“From now on, you are my personal runner,” Karina said, high fiving me as she left for rehearsals.

I blushed at the comment, a throw away one at that but at the time, it was like gold dust to me. The piece of paper was basically a shopping list of drinks and snacks to get at what time. It remained this way for a year or so as I watched Karina’s fame sky rocket. It was almost inspirational how she climbed the ladder step by step. At that time, she was dating an actor, Lee Jiwook? Jiwoon? or something, I don’t know. Another forgettable character.

I had a sense that he felt superior to me, which granted at the time, he was dating Karina so one could forgive his arrogance. He was in her changing room on a number of times. There were rumors that they were due to get engaged which turned out to be true one it was released in the press a few months later. He was by all intents an purposes the luckiest guy alive in that moment.

On the rare occasions that we did get time alone, Karina and I talked about everything from our past to future aspirations. She even helped me get back into college, funding part of my studies to get into a foundation business course. It was a difficult time, I had to finish college, which I did with after work classes and after that, moved onto that foundation course. I was indebted to her in more ways than one, but our relationship never threatened to go any further.

Over the year I think Karina grew to see me as a brother of sorts. I mean it was fine, what more could I expect. Saying this, I always held on to that faint hope that we could be more, if only the tables were turned, and I was the rising up and comer, one could only dream.

If only I had known my time with her would be limited, maybe I would have been braver, more forward I told myself. However, it did not pan out that way, as per usual, life throws you lemons, make some lemonades right? Coming into the last few episodes of the final series I made my usual rounds, knocking on her door and entering without a response, only to find Karina scantily clad in a white bra and pair of cotton panties. I did it all the time, just enter and drop off a coffee, maybe have a chat, but this time was different.

“Crap- don’t you knock?!” Karina jumped, covering up her indecency.

“I- I did, I thought- sorry,” I replied.

I managed to sneak a peek at her crotch, sending my desires into over drive seeing her, Karina picked up the plushie, covering her sex. A drop of pre cum leaked my tip as I groaned internally at the visual stimulation. She was hot as fuck I thought in my head, what I would do just to be with her for one night. Regaining composure I chuckled, triggering her to break into a smile also, scrambling to get dressed.

“Nice plushie,” I said, winking at Karina

“Oh, Haha,” Karina replied blushing.

“Your morning coffee Miss,” I said, leaving her daily latte on the table, turning to leave as I closed the door.

That was my last encounter with her as I was moved to another set the day after. If we stayed in touch, it would probably be one of those funny memories we could bring up from time to time but it was not to be. Now in the present, decades later I was suited and booted, ready for my fourth-round interview for a Digital marketing executive role at The Prada Group.

—

“They will have you now,” The secretary called out to me, beckoning me into the conference room.

My hands were steady, nerves of steel. I had interviewed at many companies before, but had a renewed desire to nail this one. I had to; she was the co-founder. The days of being a runner were long gone, as I managed to land a junior marketing role. This however, was my bread and butter, marketing, networking and the like. It was like a hand in a glove, I loved it, and it showed in my work.

Holding my head high, I pushed open the doors, my presentation in hand, ready for whatever they threw my way. Ready for the interview? Yes, but ready for- Karina?! I was not. Under normal circumstances, shareholders would not be part of the interview process. Steadying myself I held out my hand, shaking each interviewer’s hand firmly. There were three, Karina being the last.

“Nice to meet you all,” I said with confidence.

I could see Karina racking her brain as to where she had seen me. The cogs in her head were turning till I saw her face light up.

“Oh my god, Minho!” She said, her face lighting up.

“In the flesh Mam,” I replied.

“Oh, apologies for the lack of professionalism, I worked with Minho...what is it now, Ten years ago?” Karina said, her smile lighting up the room and to my advantage, perking up the other interviewers.

“We can catch up after...carry on with the presentation,” she said beaming.

Unclasping my blazer and setting it to the side I went through point by point my ideas for the new product launch, our target audience, demographic and ways to capture their attention. It was as robust a presentation as I had ever given, leaving very little questions afterwards as the four discussed among themselves after grilling me with queries.

It was a positive sign then that all four were smiling in unison as my hands started to sweat, showing the first signs of how much this job meant to me. It was her presence that threw me a curve ball. After all these years, Karina was still as alluring as ever. If anything, she looked better now than she did when we first met. Now in her thirties, married and with kids, she looked fantastic. I managed to shake my fantasies of once an idol from my thoughts and concentrate on the panel in front of me, glancing at her every so often.

“Listen, we don’t do this regularly, but this interview has been far from the ordinary. Your links with Karina, coupled with her glowing references and your stellar presentation, we would like to offer you the job,” The man in the middle said.

I was slightly taken aback at the praise, this must have been the best interview I had ever had, taking a moment to process I smiled and nodded, shaking their hand in turn with acceptance.

“Minju from HR will settle the contracts with you by phone, I believe you are ok with our pay package?” The interviewer said.

“Yes Sir,” I replied, shaking his hand again.

To be fair it was a big bump on what I was on at the moment with the added benefit of an old love interest entered into the equation, it was a must take.

“Thank you for giving me the opportunity,” I said before turning towards the door.

“Minho, one sec, are you free later this afternoon for a catch up?” Karina said before I left the room.

“Sure,” I replied smiling before exchanging numbers.

It was a move so natural to me now, one which my 20-year-old self would be proud of. I had just nabbed Karina’s phone number.

“Well done on today,” Karina said, putting her hand on my shoulder.

“It’s really good to see you,” She followed up.

“Catch you soon,” Karina said smiling warmly at me.

“As long as you get the coffees this time,” I replied with a wink.

“Good one,” Karina reply, her cheeks turning a light pink for the briefest of moments.

—

For the first time in a long while, the fruits of my labor were finally bearing fruit. It was a constant struggle to get to this point in my career, blocked off at various stages in the chain by a combination of bad luck and wrong timing. I was always taught that we make our own luck in this world which is why I kept striving forward, kept pushing on, no matter what situation I found myself in. That interview had been a victory, a rare moment where the pieces just fell into the right slots, just at the crucial moment. On the way out, I had a quick glance around the office, taking in what would be my new workplace. Just at the back next to the director’s office was the marketing department, no doubt my new home going forward.

With great pride I made my way down the stairs and back to reception before being gently caught by the arm. It was the HR rep asking if I had a quick minute to sign the necessary documents instead of getting it mailed through. It did strike me as a peculiar move, normally it took HR a few days to draft the offer letter and send it out, but I thought nothing of it, browsing the important bits and signing off with my signature. Luckily, I had no notice to give as I had just left my role the previous week, a risk on my part, but one I felt I could confidently overcome. It proved to be the right choice as I handed the papers to HR.

“See you next week,” She said.

“Well done,” The rep followed up.

I nodded, shaking her hand, before turning to leave.

“Minho..,” A familiar voice called from behind me.

It was Karina, speed walking towards me through the crowd of workers. She caught many people’s glances, mostly men as they craftily snuck a peek of the former Idol striding confidently across the floor space. She was wearing an elegant cream patterned dress with a black leather jacket draped across her shoulders. It gave her that casual suave boss look, yet at the same time emanated a very elegant and feminine vibe. Her smile broadened as she caught up with me, lightly touching my shoulder as we walked side by side.

“Congratulations again, on landing the position,” Karina said with a bright smile.

It was hard not to be taken aback by her sheer beauty, but if time had taught me one thing, it was to stay calm and measured in moments like this.

“It... was a close one,” I replied with a grin.

“Pleaseeee, you totally nailed it, we are lucky to have you,” She replied.

“Ok now you are just flattering me for a free coffee,” I joked.

“Ah you know me too well,” Karina replied, chuckling lightly.

“I thought you were busy this afternoon?” I asked, as we made our way outside.

She shrugged her shoulders, playfully prodding me in the ribs with her elbow.

“They were just update meetings, not so important, besides it free’s up more time for us to catch up, unless you have other plans?” Karina said.

“No, not at all, we can go over some of my plans for the project,” I replied.

“No business talk, fill me in on everything else going on with you,” She said laughing.

We walked and talked for what seemed like a few minutes, till we reached a quint little French barista tucked away from the main road. Checking my watch, I realized we had literally been walking for a good fifteen minutes as it was already half past four in the afternoon. It felt seamless, chatting to Karina again, similar to the old days where we would talk about everything and anything while she prepared for another shoot in her Idol days.

“Skinny Latte?” I asked, eying up the menu.

“You know me so well,” Karina said in jest.

“Well, I had a lot of practice back in the day,” I replied with a smile.

Karina suggested we sit in the corner away from the busy eyes of onlookers outside. I had noticed she changed much in this aspect, not one to revel in the spotlight, she was quite reserved in many respects, no doubt influenced to some degree by her religious upbringing. I respected that, her values and steadfast nature in doing what was best for her and her interests.

“So, spill the beans, what’s been going on with you?” Karina asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Well, it has been quite the whirlwind to be honest,” I replied.

“Once I left that day, I worked on a few other company till I finally got a promotion to the PR team. From there I steadily plugged away, attending business class in the evenings, thanks to you, eventually graduating and landing an entry level Marketing role for a local website. I stayed there for a couple of years, continuing further study and gaining experience, leaving there as a senior marketing lead. My last job, that I just left was as the Digital lead overseeing different internal projects before rising to Miu Miu taking care of bigger picture stuff and here we are,” I said.

“That is quite the journey, I’m so glad you made it work for yourself,” She said, smiling warmly.

“Well, it was all thanks to your encouragement in the beginning, making me pull my finger out and get my ass into gear,” I replied.

“No, that was all you, I just opened a few doors,” Karina said, rapping lightly on my arm.

Something was different with her. It was like I was no longer seen as a brother but an equal in her eyes. It was the way she looked at me, no longer endearing, almost a bit curious. It triggered an itch within myself that I had to scratch, my infatuation with her since the early days only growing stronger. A feeling that I wanted to follow through and see where I could take this. There were the obvious blockers with her being happily married and all, but my selfishness got the better of me, kicking my moral compass to the side as I mirrored her actions, lightly touching her arm on occasion throughout or little catch up. Not that she seemed to mind at all, her beautiful smile always beaming, fixing her hair from time to time as our coffees soon turned into wine and eventually to dinner.

“So, tell me,” I said, motioning to her ring.

“Oh,” Karina replied blushing slightly at my abrupt change in tac, focusing on her personal life.

I did not expect much, as I knew she was relatively private in nature.

“Well, yes, I am married and have three beautiful children,” She said beaming.

Karina showed me a few pictures in my phone, leaning over the gap in the table to flick through the gallery. I could smell her perfume from here, laced in the depths of her nape, filling my nostrils with a sweet aromatic blend of floral notes and citrus. She smelt heavenly, as I felt my crotch stir at our sudden close proximity. We spoke for what seemed an age before she checked her watch after feeling her phone buzz. It was now half nine in the evening.

“Shoot..,” Karina said.

“God I better get going, the husband is messaging,” She said with an awkward smile.

“It has been good catching up, really good, you have changed a lot Minho,” Karina said, clasping her bag.

“Change in a good way I hope,” I replied with a chuckle.

I could see we had got through quite a number of bottles of wine as Karina dialed a local taxi for pick up as we settled the bill and walked outside to wait for her ride.

“Yes by the way,” Karina suddenly said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“You have changed in a good way,” She replied.

“Ok that was like a five-minute delay Karina, losing your sharpness,” I said laughing.

“Pfftt, it’s the wine, deadly stuff,” Karina said, merrily leaning on my shoulder.

“You are much more confident and forward looking, it’s a good look,” She said softly.

“I can remember the first time we met, you were so star struck it was cute, standing there with a coffee in your hand,” Karina said laughing.

“Do you blame me?” I said chuckling.

“I mean it was adorable, your face was all flushed and, I can say this now but it was a little obvious you were a little too excited,” Karina said slapping my arm in hysterics.

I had hoped that she would have missed that all those years ago, but I guess she picked up on it, all of it. I could not help but laugh with her reminiscing about the past as the alcohol slowly set in.

“Oh, here’s my cab,” She said giving me a hug and pecking me on the cheek.

“It was so nice to see you, congratulations, again,” Karina said beaming, the smell of wine now laced in her breath.

“You too Karina, it was great to see you too,”

“Don’t worry I have managed to curb my excitement this time!” I joked.

Karina laughed, punching my harm.

“Must be losing my touch,” She said, smiling.

“I wouldn’t fret, you still have the same- effect..,” I replied, my expression of the cheeky, implying nature.

Karina blushed, swiping her hair behind her ear while she fidgeted on the spot for a few moments, smiling.

“Well, I best be going, see you in the office?” She said, gathering her composure again and leaning in for a hug.

“Yes boss,” I replied, closing the taxi door and watching her leave.

The walk home was a good one, a feeling of elation at nailing the interview and one of mild curiosity at the unsaid words and feelings I felt between us. With a bright smile across my face, I went to bed eager to get started on my first day.

—

Strolling into the work on day one all suited and booted gave me a great sense of accomplishment as the HR representative took me to my new office. It was large, much larger than my old one, decked out in a minimalistic art decor kind of vibe. It even had that fancy clap to shut blinds feature which made the inner child in me laugh in excitement.

“This is your team,” The rep said.

She introduced me to my marketing team manager Nayoung, who over saw our junior team members Sohye and Yeonjun. They seemed like a good bunch, all enthusiastic and willing to do the hard yards as we went full on into the new product launch. There was little time to settle in as the launch was happening in three months’ time, so all the marketing and advertisement had to be nailed down asap. From my first few encounters with Nayoung I got the impression that she knew exactly what she was doing, decisive in her actions but at the same time very popular with the other two. She must have been a few years younger than myself, perhaps on her late twenties, but her experience levels shone through her work. She had that girl next door look, yet commanded respect through her calmness and wicked sense of humor. She was sharp, I had to hand it to her, batting off my banter throughout the day and weeks with ease. It got to a point that our team work was seamless, synchronized as the group ramped up for the final presentation to Karina.

—

It was now week three, and the first draft was about to be presented to Karina for approval. The team had been working hard throughout the process, pulling late nights on consecutive occasions as all four of us tidied up the final bits of the slides.

“So, we heard that you and the boss lady go way back,” Yeonjun said smirking.

“Yeah, I have known her for quite some time,” I replied.

Sohye and Nayoung smiled at each other.

“Seriously guys, we are going there?” I asked laughing.

“Well, she is kinda hot,” Yeonjun chirped in.

“Kinda? She is drop dead gorgeous,” Sohye replied.

“Guys, just get to work, I will leave the company card with Nayoung, order whatever you want,” I said smiling.

“Is that a no comment?” Yeonjun asked laughing.

Before I could hit back with some banter of my own, Karina walked in wearing an eye catching black short, black top, showing off way too much leg for the office.

“Evening all,” Karina said, smiling, her eyes lingering on me for a brief moment.

I could sense Yeonjun and the team in hysterics as I gathered my laptop. He bit his fist obviously in reaction to Karina’s insanely revealing work attire.

“Let me take you through the final proposal, Boss,” I said with a cheeky grin.

“Lead the way,” Karina replied.

My office was just around the corner as I snuck another peek at her smooth legs before shutting the door behind me.

“Bit bold for the office?” I said smiling.

“Ughh don’t get me started, just rushed off a shoot with Women’s Health, barely made it in time through the traffic,” She replied, sitting down in the swivel chair and crossing her legs.

Something about what she said did not add up though. According to her PA she had finished in the afternoon, as the shoot had been moved earlier on in the day. I knew this because our meeting was due to be the following day but I moved it forward to tonight as we were in good shape with the proposal. With intrigue racing across my thoughts, I settled down beside her, making sure not to stare at her smooth legs.

“So, what you got for me?” Karina said, tilting her head towards me.

I ran her through our slides, pointing out the key take aways and messages of the campaign. Karina nodded intently, chiming in with slight tweaks here and there. She really knew her stuff, explaining the ideology of the company revolving around sustainability and making the world a better place through safe practice and renewable materials. If not for her flawless attire, I would have paid better attention as I found myself staring at her face before being brought back to reality.

“Don’t you agree?” She said.

“What? Yes, yes, I do,” I replied.

“Did you just zone out? Hah for a minute there your face reminded me of when we first met,” Karina said smiling.

The slight awkwardness from a few weeks back when I dropped her off at the taxi were now long gone as I felt her get more and more comfortable with my company.

“What do you mean by this part?” Karina asked pointing to one of the slides.

I moved in closer, feeling the slight brush of her calf on my leg as I explained the ins and outs of the slide. The touch of her leg on mine was not rebuffed as I continued with my explanation, using it as an excuse to gently continue to rub my leg against her bare skin, my knee now sneaking up her leg slightly as we sat side by side. I felt a slight jump in her demeanor so I quickly moved my leg away, maybe I had pushed my luck too far.

“Sorry- bit tight in here,” I said, breaking the silence, which was an odd thing to say as the office was large.

The awkwardness steadily grew as the tension cranked up, Karina finally looking up at me after I had finished my re run through her query.

“Thank you…” For taking me through it.

“It looks, good,” She said.

Her face now a few inches from mine, the silence filling the gap, I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head, moving forward without skipping a beat planting my lips on hers. Initially feeling a tensing in her shoulders, this quickly dissipated as our lips melded together, my hands now resting on the side of her waist as we embraced in deep heavy petting.

“Wait…wait…I can’t,” Karina said, her hands gently pushing me away as I continued kissing up her nape and nibbling at her ear lobe.

“Minho…wait...seriously I’m married..,” She followed up, breaking our kiss and rolling away an inch or so in the seat.

Her face was flushed red, hair slightly out of place as the ravishing woman looked at me, slightly unsure and ashamed. I could see her breathing had accelerated by the way her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she rushed to fix her dress.

“What’s the matter, don’t you want to?” I asked enquiringly.

“Its. Not- I’m married and have a family,” Karina replied clearly flustered.

I closed the distance between us in the chair again without a response from her as she just sat still, pretending to fuss before picking up her phone.

“Jaewook called, just going to call home,” She said hurriedly, turning her back to me as she dialed home.

Catching the chair mid turn, I spun her back around, just as her husband greeted her. Placing my leg in-between her thighs I slowly inched forward. The look in her eyes were full of trepidation, yet her body showed no signs of rejection as Karina sat completely still greeting Jaewook on the other side of the line.

“Hey honey, yes I’m- just…in a meeting,” Karina said.

My confidence now shot to a hundred due to our kiss moments before so decided to take things a bit further, reaching out my hand and running it along the inside of her smooth pale legs. Karina showed brief signs of resistance, squeezing her legs shut before I eased them open again with my other hand, travelling further up her inner thighs till my fingers made contact with her moist sex.

“I should be home...in a bit..,” Karina continued talking.

Her face was clearly conflicted, trying to hold it together while I pleasured her with my hands, cupping her wet pussy through her silky underwear, rubbing firmly on her clit.

“Fuck..,” Karina moaned into the phone.

Her eyes shot open in fear, realizing what she had just said as her husband sounded confused on the other line.

“No... I just found an error in the presentation that’s all,” She quickly recovered.

Smiling, I nodded, our eyes meeting for the first time during this sordid encounter. Her pupils were dilated, washed over in a glaze of lust as her mouth dropped, gaping slightly at the touch of my hands now rubbing her cunt with increased fervor. Easing her underwear to the side, I crept my fingers delicately along the length of her lips, piercing Karina’s slick labia with my digits as I proceeded to stoke the insides of her married cunt.

“God...Unghh..,” Karina gently moaned, holding the phone to her shoulder.

Luckily, Jaewook was in the thralls of an explanation about some work issues he had today, missing his wife’s whispered moans. Slipping in another finger and then another I was basically cupping her sex, removing her soaked underwear completely, placing it in my back pocket while I delved my hand deep within her folds, feeling her walls close in around me. Extending my finger deep inside her tight slit, my digits making contact with her g-spot as applied pressure with my wrist making her twitch and writhe in her chair.

“Jaewook- Jaewook...can…I... call you back..,?” Karina said, her voice now slightly ragged.

Sensing her impending climax, I doubled my efforts flicking her clitoris with my thumb as I rubbed her deep inside her cunt, stimulating her g-spot with my fingers while she creamed all over my hand. Karina’s thighs were covered in her slick juices, my wrist now leaking with her nectar as I felt her cramping up. Her cunt walls squeezing down on my fingers as I impaled my hand within her womb, fucking her with deep steady strokes.

“Shit...mpphhh,” Karina said, moaning into my shoulder as I had moved forward, resting my face next to hers as I attacked her pussy with quicker jabs.

“Babe...you still there?” I heard Jaewook saying on the other line.

“Uhhh...huh…Just finishing up here,” Karina replied.

Her pussy was twitching in my hand as I felt her hips buck, stuffing more of my fingers deeper into her married cunt as she bit down on my shoulder to mask her cries of pleasure while climaxing on my fingers. We stayed in this awkward embrace as I continued to rub at her sex, her pussy leaking down my palms and onto the carpeted floor while she finished her conversation with Jaewook. Hanging up the phone the look on her face turned from the relief of just being brought to orgasm, to more of one of remorse of what had just happened.

Getting up without a word, she held out her hand, wanting me to hand back her sex-soaked underwear to which I refused, standing up and cupping her face in my hands.

“I- can’t...we can’t…” Karina said rather tame.

“We already have,” I replied curtly, planting another kiss on her lips as I eased her back onto the wall behind.

“Wait- seriously...I’m- ughh...married,” She replied, her moans steadily increasing as my hands danced up her dress again.

“Seriously...plll...pleaseeee,” Karina pleaded in vain, her emotions caught between guilt and pleasure as I held a my cum soaked finger to her lips.

“Shhh...allow me to make you feel...better,” I replied.

“I may not be your husband...but you will enjoy this..,” I said, kissing her once more before dropping to my knees.

Karina’s eyes were wanting, slowly turning to my way of thinkings as I proceeded to lift up her dress and take in her essence. The smell of her sex was divine, a mix of the pungent natural notes of her cunt together with the sweet taste of her juice was a dream come true as I licked her slit from the bottom to the top, suckling on her throbbing clit with my lips.

“Mmhh...aahhh..,” Karina groaned lightly, running her fingers through her hair.

I was slowly breaking her resistance, feeling her push her hips into my face as I slung one of her legs over my shoulders while feasting on her slippery pussy. Dragging my tongue up her swollen lips, I pierced her folds, tongue fucking her slit with gradual spears, tasting her cream in my mouth as I eagerly lapped up everything she had to offer.

“Fuck- we...we can’t- ahh…”. Karina moaned louder as I hit the right spot, her clawing more desperate now as she forcefully fed me her cunt.

Karina was on tip toes now, her initial resistance dissipated completely as I had my way with her, licking her pink insides with my tongue as I felt her inevitable climax build. Her thighs were now clamped around my face as I hoovered up her sexual fluids, adding my fingers to the mix, penetrating her sex with my digits while sucking at her reddened clit.

“Shit...shit...mmhh...fuckk...ughh,” Karina yelled, her climax hitting its peak as she shivered and twitched around my lips.

I stayed on my knees for a while, taking in her heavenly taste in my mouth as the sultry woman eased me back to my feet. She was silent, not saying a word, almost as if saying something would be an admission of our wrong doings. If anything, I was leading proceedings backing into my leather-bound chair as I eyed Karina up and down. She knew what I wanted, a slight smirk forming on her lips as she slowly walked towards me.

We kissed softly, as I felt her hands drift slowly down my body as Karina descended to her knees, gently pushing me into my chair. Her expression was livelier riddled with hunger as she bit her lips gently, hurriedly unbuckling my belt and removing my trousers.

I stared at her full lips hovering a mere inch from my throbbing member as she kissed my crown through my boxers. My pre cum leaking onto my cotton underwear as she gently pecked at my cock with her soft lips, tasting the hint of salt soaking through the fabric. It was like watching a beautiful car crash happen in slow motion as Karina freed by cock from by pants, fishing it out and dipping her wet lips along the length of my shaft. Her soft hands feeling my meat with a firm grip that pumped with perfect execution as she finally took me into her wanting mouth, eyes locked on mine for the entirety of the act.

“Mmmm...mmm”. Karina hummed on my dick, while she gave me the best fellatio of my life.

I was lost in the sensations of her tongue lapping up the underside of my shaft in one fluid motion, before sucking down again on my crown, over and over feeding more of my twitching cock between her married lips. Running my fingers through her hair I thrust my hips gently into her wanting mouth as her nose made contact with my pubic bone, deep throating my entire cock till my tip made contact with her tonsils. I held her here for a few precious seconds, feeling her tongue coat my cock in more of her warm spit as she took me to the back of her throat, her eyes flushed with desire.

“Shit- Karina...you feel...soo...good,” I groaned, suddenly disrupted by my office door swing open.

It was Nayoung, holding the company credit card with a grin on her face. The instance she went to speak, Karina had expertly hidden herself under my desk, my cock still sheathed between her lips while she continued to feed on my meat, turning her attention to my sack with long deep licks.

“Boss can we up the limit to say 25 each?” Nayoung said smiling.

“Yeah sure whatever you guys want” I replied, slightly breathless.

Karina was staring at me from below, mouth open, rolling my sack around between her lips, slathering me in spit while I tried maintaining my cool.

“Everything OK Boss, you seem a little uptight?” Nayoung said concerned.

“Yeah...the draft went down well, Karina has just popped out for a call,” I said, a bead of sweat forming on my forehead.

“You sure...?” Nayoung replied.

I felt Karina now clamp down on my balls and suck hard while she pumped my cock with her fist, my shaft straining for release as my orgasm built up rapidly.

“Yes...no problem...keep up the good work,” I said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Ok boss, we are just outside if you need anything,” Nayoung replied before leaving.

I waited for the footsteps to soften before letting out an almighty yawn thrusting my cock further into Karina’s mouth.

“Shit...Karina...I’m close..,” I moaned, gripping the back of her head as I continued to thrust between her lips.

“Mmm...mmhh...mmhhfff..,” Karina replied, her mouth stuffed with cock as my impending release came.

She never stopped sucking, bringing her mouth around my crown and allowing me to unload inside her oral cavity. Spurt after spurt of my sticky load painted her pink insides, feeding her a torrent of my thick and salty seed, the mother of three just lapping up my sperm with her tongue as she pumped my shaft with her fist, milking my twitching cock to completion while swallowing my load, closing her eyes in euphoria.

It was immense, watching her continue to work my spurting dick with her lips until I grew soft within her mouth. A gentle squeeze of my balls dribbling out the final drops of sperm from my tip into her welcoming tongue.

“God damn Karina...that was intense,” I said breathlessly.

She looked up at me in a cum drunk haze, my seed dripping from her bottom lip.

“So...do I taste better than your husband?” I asked cheekily.

She looked at me with a frown, coming back down to reality after her earth-shattering fellatio, she had just given me.

“I don’t usually let him finish in my mouth..,” Karina said meekly.

“Usually?” I replied.

“Never..,” She said, kissing my tip softly with her lips.

I reached out stroking her face as I scooped up the last dribble of sperm on the side of her mouth, letting the ravishing woman suck it clean from my fingers a smile breaking out on her face at the taste of my essence.

Our sensual connection in that moment was disrupted by the sudden ring of her phone. It was her husband and just like that her mood changed from a state of utter arousal to one of panic and remorse as she stood up, flattening out her dress and grabbing her jacket.

“I... I have to go,” Karina stammered, clearly flustered as her cheeks went a bright red.

“Email me the rest of the slides?” She said turning to me.

“Look- about...what just…” Karina started.

I cut her off, kissing her gently on the lips.

“Go... I will see you in the meeting on Friday,” I said gently.

Karina smiled, avoiding my eye contact, clearly riddled with guilt from what had just transpired, but she clearly enjoyed herself. It gave me a surge of confidence knowing that fact, even if she was not ready to freely admit it herself.

The picture of her locked in the thralls of passion as I felt her up for the first time would forever be seared into my memories. I was officially addicted and I needed to get another hit of her...

#karina smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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