#(or the company SoMe) you say 'oh youre a photographer?' and he goes 'no i own bouncing ball corp' and u pass out lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eemcintyre · 19 days

Text

People Will Say We're in Love

TW- none

Summary- The first news story about Valerie and Terry is released, and Valerie must cope with heightened scrutiny from her family, friends, and strangers. She also learns that Terry will be hosting a cocktail party to welcome the investment group and that she needs to be there.

This part introduces one of the details in this story that I was most excited to write about 👀 (see picture below for reference)

Sunday morning. Valerie rolled out of bed, donned a quick, casual dress and sunglasses, and ventured out for a newspaper.

Before she could even make the short walk back to her apartment, she couldn’t resist flipping through and skimming the pages. She didn’t have to look too closely- as expected, the day’s Society and Entertainment section of First Look’s newspaper was a splashy collage of color photographs from the café and blocks of accompanying copy. A shot of Valerie and Terry’s kiss took the main spot but were supplemented by photos of him pressing his lips to her hand and her swiping him across the nose with tea foam.

The headline: “Silver gets steamy over coffee with mystery woman.” The article: filled with questions and theories as to Silver’s unusual display of softness and the mystery woman’s identity.

In any other circumstances, it would be amusing to see herself in the newspaper. Valerie was pleased that, at the very least, she and Terry did photograph as a lovely couple, but she couldn’t help the prickle of dread that overshadowed this satisfaction, wondering what it might mean for her if Amanda Shotwell were to turn her keen journalistic attentions toward investigating her.

But this concern quickly became remote when Valerie arrived to work on Monday. She felt eyes boring into her everywhere she turned, accompanied by whispers.

“She’s not the type he usually goes for.”

“So that’s how she made it to the top floor so fast...”

Many coworkers, some she barely even knew, took it upon themselves to come up to her desk and pepper her with questions about the length and depth of her and Mr. Silver’s relationship and their unsolicited opinions about dipping one's pen into the company ink. A number of women that Valerie had hardly or never spoken to before gave her dirty looks and/or made snide comments to her in passing down the hallways. Blonde and model-built ex-paramours of Terry Silver who found it unbearable that they proved insignificant in comparison to the plain, comparatively classless creature before them.

Her friends tried their best to be supportive, but even those who thought the news was great were slightly confused due to how clear Valerie had made it in the past that she wasn’t fond of him. A couple of them just wanted to know how he was in bed, which was arguably worse than the insults of his exes. A deep red swept across Valerie’s cheeks and she recoiled at the mental image, as well as the idea that the people around her were picturing it.

“No- oh God, no!” she exclaimed instinctually, before realizing that her reaction didn’t fit the narrative. “I mean…” She tried to roll it back. “You know I don’t kiss and tell. I like to keep it classy. You’ll just have to use your imagination.” Her friend smirked. “Or don’t!”

Valerie nearly ran away, clutching the pile of binders and folders she was carrying to her chest and adjusting her glasses sliding down the sweaty bridge of her nose.

Proceedings at Dynatox had taken on a frenetic pace, as the top members of Kimura Investment Group were less than two weeks away from arrival. Final touches needed to be put on the business plan and the proposal, and hundreds of other pages of miscellaneous paperwork had to be put in order. Plus, Valerie and her fellow PR members had been working overtime trying to manage and tamp down negative news stories about the company.

And aside from the workload aspect of the upcoming arrival, the activity of the bustling employees nearly quivered with the anxious anticipation of it all, knowing how beneficial for the company it would be if they were successful- as well as how serious the consequences would be if it all fell through. Not only would Mr. Silver likely become frightful to be around for the foreseeable future, but he would certainly take out his anger on any and every one of the people he perceived as contributing to the failure. Any small mistake wouldn’t do. Basically, Valerie had much higher priorities that needed to be dealt with and she wished she could focus on, rather than having to spend time worrying about people questioning her judgment and imagining her sex life.

Then, the next morning, before Valerie could even get used to the atmosphere at work, these worries were compounded when she was awoken by a barrage of messages and phone calls that beat her alarm to the punch in terms of how early they came. Calls from various family members and friends back home that ran the gamut of emotions but could ultimately be boiled down to “what the hell is going on?”

Her sister was thrilled and unashamedly jealous; praising what she believed to be Valerie’s dedication to getting ahead: “Well, look at you living my dream. We all wish we could snag a sugar daddy like that- good for you!” Valerie’s jaw dropped. Her cousin was just morbidly curious, wanting every little detail so that he could brag to and joke with his friends. Her mother, as Valerie feared, was nearly turning herself inside out with concern- “Just how long have you been going out with him, dear? Why didn’t you tell any of us about it? What are his intentions? Your father wants to know.”

Valerie bit back a harsh laugh at her parents speaking about Silver as if he were one of the local high school athletes who was known for getting all the girls in the back of his car; like he wasn’t the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and she hadn’t also proven herself highly capable over her time in California and they were both children.

And of course, his true intentions were far more complex and rather concerning than anyone knew or needed to know.

“How did you even hear about this so fast?” Valerie inquired, ignoring her mother’s million questions for her own, realizing how suspiciously quickly the news had traveled from one end of the country to the other.

“This reporter called us asking about you and what we knew about the relationship,” her mother replied before quickly devolving into hysteria once more. “Which, of course, was nothing. Were you ever planning on telling us?”

“A reporter called you? Mom, what reporter?” Valerie’s heart began to pound, pumping blood that had gone cold with dread as she white-knuckled the phone.

“She was a very nice lady. She works for one of the big publications over there…”

“What was her name? Do you remember?”

“I think it was Miranda, maybe, or Amanda.”

Valerie dropped into the living area armchair, feeling dizzy. “Mom, what did you tell her?”

“She just wanted some basic information about us and how we felt about you two going out- oh, and to send some old pictures of you. Of course, since we had no idea any of this was going on, there wasn’t much to say. We probably sounded like idiots not knowing anything that’s going on with our own daughter…”

Valerie sought a way to end the call after that, slamming the receiver down after her mother hanged up and collapsing fully into the armchair with her head in her hands, letting out a piercing groan. Amanda already seemed disconcertingly close to uncovering some sort of unaccounted-for detail that would reveal her and Terry’s ruse, nullifying their deal and wasting all the time and energy Valerie had put into it, as well as publicly embarrassing her. Let alone what the unpredictable Silver might do to her.

Well, at her mother’s own insistence, her family didn’t really know anything of importance to give Amanda as ammunition. Valerie worked to slow her breathing once she realized she’d started to hyper-ventilate. Everything was probably fine. Sighing into her hands, she had to cut her doomed thought spiral short if she was to be on time for another gloriously invasive day of work.

Within a couple of hours at Dynatox, when Valerie was knee-deep in media release drafts and phone calls trying to tame the continuing, tense situation with the Midwest protesters, she received a call from Terry summoning her to his office.

“Ter- Mr. Silver,” she corrected herself in the interest of maintaining some façade of professionalism, glancing nervously at her coworkers, who thankfully seemed to either not notice or not care. “Can’t it wait? Now’s not a good time…”

Managing the predicament and keeping it from escalating was all the more important with Kimura’s impending arrival. And it served as a decent distraction from her host of other rapidly developing problems.

“I wasn’t asking,” he replied flatly. “I know you have a lot on your plate; I wouldn’t interrupt you if it wasn’t important.” His tone softened as he tried to pacify her.

Valerie glared in the direction of his door and rolled her eyes before sighing “I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you,” he replied, in a manner that implied she was the one being difficult.

After taking a few moments to note where she was at in each of her tasks for when she returned, Valerie made her way to his office, feeling eyes on her every step of the way. The second she shut the door behind her, she began her mentally rehearsed statement:

“Terry, if we don’t want those environmentalists in the Midwest to become a PR disaster, I really need to get back to-”

“Don’t worry about that. I just-” Terry attempted to interject and was swiftly steamrolled. Suddenly, everything that was going wrong began flooding out and Valerie couldn’t stop it.

“-Oh, and apparently over the weekend Amanda has been calling all of my relatives trying to get dirt on me! My family has been asking me a million questions and they told the press God knows what and tomorrow First Look is probably going to have a section about my high school photos from when I had braces-”

“-Valerie!” Terry strode around his desk to grab her by the shoulders. “Get ahold of yourself. It’s all being taken care of. I gave that assignment and almost everything else to Peter and his team; now all you have to worry about is Kimura and us.”

Of course, while Terry wanted to ensure that Valerie had enough time and energy to give a good girlfriend performance and focus on what had become the organization’s most important task- wooing the investors- this scheduling adjustment would also play perfectly into his larger covert op. If Valerie’s schedule was freed up to allow her more time with him, he would be able to draw her all the closer and get her more attached, more quickly.

Valerie’s face turned faintly pink, and she was obviously about to protest before the feeling of that weight being lifted off of her fully registered.

“Um... T-thank you,” she stammered, eyebrows furrowed as she was caught off-guard by his seeming generosity. “But won’t people think you’re playing favorites if you push a bunch of my work onto other people?”

“Who gives a fuck? They work for me. And after all, as far as they’re concerned, you are my favorite.” He shrugged, and Valerie wished for even an atom of his unruffled confidence. “And I wouldn’t worry about your family because they can’t tell what they don’t know, right?”

When Valerie didn’t immediately respond, his eyes narrowed. “Right?”

“I haven’t said anything to them. I wouldn’t even know what to say or where to begin,” she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Terry was content with her answer, reminding himself that he also was keeping tabs of his own on her family and everything they were saying to the press in case he needed to step in. His entire plan wasn’t going to fall apart just because some senile or fame-seeking relative couldn’t keep their big mouth shut. He had the situation covered from all angles.

“As for Ms. Shotwell, try to take it as the sick sort of compliment it is. She knows you’ll get people reading. People are buying what we’re selling. Just keep playing it cool and remember that, at the end of the day, her livelihood relies on us. We’re the ones in control here. Now, will you please sit down?”

Valerie descended gingerly into the chair across from him at his desk, temporarily placated.

“I did say that I had something important to discuss with you. As you know, Kimura’s people arrive in less than two weeks, and we want to show ‘em that we’re the people to be in business with, but also nothing too crazy. Upscale, but minimalist. Remind them of home; really schmooze them. Show them a good time but that we’ll use their money wisely."

Valerie nodded and he continued. “I imagine you’ve heard that we’re planning a little cocktail party and dinner for the weekend they get here?”

“Yes,” she replied, thinking to herself that the gathering would be anything but ‘little,’ or ‘nothing too crazy,’ as it was to be about 40 people plus service aboard a yacht with a grand view of the coast.

“You’ll be there to help charm them as the CEO’s gorgeous and refined beloved.”

Gorgeous. Valerie shifted her jaw thoughtfully.

“Of course, we’ll need to downplay the fact that you’re with the company, let alone on the top floor- gotta appeal to their values. And we don’t want to show too much affection, but I don’t imagine you’ll mind that,” he joked. “Devoted but stable; practical. And don’t wear anything too sexy or over-the-top.” This last rule was as much for Terry as it was for the sake of appealing to Kimura. The idea of anyone but him looking at or thinking of Valerie in a desirous way made his blood pressure spike.

“Should I be writing this down?” Valerie asked sarcastically, crossing her arms and legs.

“I can write a checklist if you don’t think you can handle it…” She scowled at him. “You just make it so easy to tease you,” he explained, feigning innocence. “But that’s all for now. I’d like us to meet for lunch next Wednesday to nail down any final details.”

“Works for me.”

“See you around the office,” he said playfully as she got up to leave, and she bade him farewell with a wince and a faux-enthusiastic wave of her fingers. He responded with a wave and a smile in full force that she would have loved to smack off.

The rest of the week quickly came and went, and before Valerie knew it, she was standing in front of her mirror again, pondering another high-end outfit while she waited for Milos to buzz the apartment door.

The tea-length, strappy black dress, accompanied by a matching headband and the confidence she’d started to build after the successful café outing, helped Valerie to feel sophisticated and assured for what otherwise was the “couple’s” first truly high-stakes event.

A lot hinged on the Kimura businessmen’s impressions of Dynatox, particularly their impressions of its CEO. And even though she didn’t love feeling like a mere accessory to Terry and his carefully crafted image, as police sirens blared nearby, her eventual reward and the possibility of being able to move out of her tiny, slightly sketchy apartment helped. Plus, a free drink or two was never a turn-off.

The now-familiar sound of the door buzzer brought Valerie back to attention. “I’ll be right down,” she called over the speaker, surprised when Terry’s voice sounded on the line instead of Milos’.

“Hold on, I’m coming up.”

Valerie glanced at the wall clock, wondering what possibly couldn’t be discussed in the car, but shrugged it off, unchaining the door. It was his party, if he wanted to be fashionably late to meet a clientele that typically valued being on time. Nothing in she and Terry’s agreement said the deal with Kimura had to be successful.

The echo of Terry’s heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the hall and she turned to face the doorway. He had already begun speaking as soon as he crossed the threshold, before even looking to see if she was there.

“This won’t take long…” Once his gaze locked in on her outfit, he froze, seeming momentarily lost for words, which was a first in Valerie’s experience. Of course, it didn’t last longer than about a second. All the same, her confidence faltered under his ever-critical eye.

“Well, don’t you look…”

“-Save it, Terry! I don’t need this right now…” Valerie snapped, bracing for another thinly veiled insult or backhanded compliment. He shot her a wilting look.

“…I was going to say that you look nice.”

“Oh.” Valerie glanced down at the floor and shuffled her feet, guilt twinging in her stomach. The range of emotions that this man could exhibit himself and elicit in her within a matter of minutes could make her head spin.

“I’m going to have to send Joan a very extravagant Christmas gift.”

“You look nice too,” she chirped, taking note of his double-breasted blazer, loafers, and crisp dress shirt. Although she immediately regretted her awkward response, not quite sure how to respond to a sincere compliment from him, he visibly preened at her praise, smoothing a hand over his slicked-back hair.

“So, what do you need before we go?” She clasped her hands together expectantly.

“Ah, yes. Well, every outfit needs a finishing touch, right?” Terry rummaged inside his blazer pockets, removing a pair of small, flat red boxes.

Valerie gasped upon reading the word “Cartier” that was embossed on the center of each lid in elegantly rounded gold lettering. He opened one of the boxes and held it up at her eye level.

“Matching Cartier love bracelets. People will eat it up,” he grinned, studying her reaction. “Well, go on, take it. This one’s yours.” She wordlessly, slowly reached into the box to handle the bracelet with delicate fingers, observing the way the gold band glinted in the setting sun that sliced into the room.

“How does it go on?” she spoke finally, puzzled when she could find no clasp or latch. Terry removed a small velvet pouch from the box, revealing a tiny gold screwdriver within. “It screws on and off. It’s meant to be worn all the time.”

Valerie wrinkled her nose, her wonder quickly turning to disgust. “Why don’t you just handcuff us together?” she said dryly.

“Tempting. I like the way you think.”

“I just don’t like feeling like an object; like you’re marking your territory or something.”

“I was thinking more ‘touching gesture of commitment and devotion,’ but I can work with that, too,” he shrugged, biting back a laugh when she was clearly unamused by him returning the sarcasm.

They sat next to each other at the kitchen counter, starting the putting-on process with Valerie’s already unboxed bracelet.

“Alright, give me your hand,” Terry requested gently, pulling Valerie’s arm toward him and to the counter’s surface. He noted that her wrist was so thin his grip could more than reach around it, and once he got her bracelet unscrewed and slipped it on, how accurately he’d guessed the size.

“It’s a perfect fit,” he breathed, chuckling faintly as she watched him. He swore he almost saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, like she’d discovered his obsessive game and true, cruel intentions, but it swiftly vanished as she tried to get used to the feeling of the cool metal bobbing against her skin.

“My turn,” he sighed, shifting in his chair as he extended his wrist and the tool to Valerie. Always wary of other people touching him, his attention was completely honed in on her work. Her hands shook as she attempted to twist the tiny screws in the band around his thick, surprisingly soft and warm wrist.

Valerie interrupted her handiwork with a glare up at him, snapping “Stop staring at me! You’re making me nervous!” But it only made him laugh. And to her annoyance, she was unable to stop herself from laughing too. Eventually, though not without some impatient remarks from Terry, she was able to secure the bracelet around his wrist.

“Now we’re ready to go,” he said, toying with her hand in his, allowing the both of them to studying the sight of their matching accessories before he abruptly rose from his chair, pocketing the screwdriver and heading for the door, leaving Valerie scrambling for her purse.

#thomas ian griffith #terry silver #cobra kai #the karate kid #creative writing #enemies to lovers #fake dating #karate kid fanfiction

13 notes · View notes

tokusmuts · 2 years

Note

Sure no problem. I would love to see Ayaka as well.

Plan was changed...again. But I finished it, so please enjoy A big cheer for Double A for 100 notes, read it here

A Successful Business Trip (Chapter 1)

Characters: Hidden Male Character x Sakurako Okubo

Category: Playing with boobs, breastfeeding, anal sex

Words count: 2,4k

Enjoy!

Today is a very important day when I, the director of a multimedia company, will sign a contract with a modelling agency Gravure, which has brought many girls up to become role models who are familiar faces in magazines such as Weekly Playboy, Friday, Young Jump, and so on. The signing ceremony took place smoothly with the witness of the press. Through this contract, my company will have the right to send photographers and invest in modern equipment for taking photos of their company's models. However, there is still one thing that makes me a bit confused both before and after the signing ceremony is that the representative of the other company participating is not a director but just a deputy director. I have researched and learned that this female director rarely appears in public, what they get from her is just a few sneak photos on occasions when she goes out for personal work. But even if it's just a sneak shot, her beauty is outstanding. But it was clear that it was impossible to meet her, at least when I learned that even the director of Shueisha - the birthplace of the prestigious Weekly Playboy magazine did not have that opportunity, so I guess I should just invite the deputy director over for an intimate meal called to thank you after having a very successful signing session.

“Sorry but I wonder if you would like to come to Nukimi restaurant to have dinner with me? Like, I also want to thank you for the fact that among the thousands of companies that can provide the same things as us, you have agreed to cooperate?" - my habit of saying it all in one go when stressed or embarrassed seems to be hard to break “This is not my decision at all, so you should be more honoured…I think you know what I'm talking to, right?” - he said and then patted my shoulder and smiled “You…don't tell me that…” "Right! It was Miss Sakurako who chose your company! We weren't too impressed with your company, but director Sakurako was impressed when I saw how you presented your project to our models!"

Am I dreaming? I always hear that for a certain company to have a chance to work with them, it has to go through a majority vote but not necessarily for her to approve, but this time she made my company stand out from the rest of the filming studio market out there (although we also have certain advantages such as financial potential or the quality of the photographers and shooting equipment. It's not easy to compete with other competitors, yet she rates us so well), I don't know if anyone has had this feeling, but it's clear that if this case goes to the newspaper, some directors of rival companies will also have to vomit blood. But slowly, everything is still behind. While I was still floating, a strange number called, I intended to not answer until the deputy director saw and stopped me.

“You won’t want to miss that call!”

Even though I don't know why, I picked up the phone and listened, from the other end of the line, a female voice sounded

"Hello!" - a very soft voice said “Um…sorry but who are you?” - I ask “Hmm… I can hardly blame you either! Then let me introduce myself, I'm Sakurako Okubo, the director of the company you just signed up with today!"

As soon as that sentence ended, I was completely frozen, even the phone in my hand fell straight to the floor, it took a few seconds for me to reconfigure everything and pick up the phone.

"What's wrong? Surprised enough to drop your phone?” "Oh, God! I'm really sorry, being called like this by you directly makes me very happy but also confused!" “I also expected you to react like this! After all, apart from my family, my favourite model and the vice president who's right next to you, I've never called anyone else!"

So that means I'm the first person she calls other than those close to her? This favour makes people doubt a lot, but in the immediate future, if I get an interview after this trip, I have to show off this privilege thoroughly!

“So you called me to…?” “Of course to invite you to dine!”

Shouldn't I be the one to invite this case? Everything's reversed like this, it's so confusing for me

“Ah…but shouldn't I have invited you to be polite?” “I broke the rules this time, okay? For the first time in my entire time in this director's chair, I have seen such an impressive introduction from a partner like you, so this time I will be the one to invite" - Sakurako continued from take the time to explain

The call raised more and more theories for me, even the craziest cases were taken into account. But I shouldn't expect a thank you meal like this. I happily agreed and hung up. Returning to the hotel, I happily informed my wife by phone and I was also promised a quality gift waiting at home, along with a soft gasp in the background. Looks like my wife has finished the preparations and is just waiting for me to come home to enjoy

That night…

I wore a classic black suit to the Nukimi restaurant to have dinner with Sakurako. It was strange that the whole restaurant was empty of people, which made me a little scared. I was escorted by her bodyguard to the prepared dining room. To ask about my impression of Sakurako, it would be…secretive and a bit reserved when it comes to socializing. But when it came to the contract, she became surprisingly lively and talkative, talking about every impression she had of my presentation. But the most surprising thing was her last question after finishing the meal

“Do you want to make some cocktails with me?”

I wondered if she had done this to anyone, but the answer I got back from her was "No!". I don't know how many more surprises could happen tonight, but obviously, I can't turn down any of Sakurako's offers if I don't want things to fall apart. So our evening continued at the most famous bar in Japan - Zeus Nightclub. Here I was introduced by Sakurako to Mariya Nagao - one of the most successful models that Sakurako's company has ever owned and she is also her favourite model as she mentioned before. This girl appeared with a beautiful figure in a perfect body-hugging white dress. And so the glasses of wine were being drunk by the three of them one after another, and yet while Sakurako and Mariya were both showing signs of fatigue and intoxication, I was still quite sober. What happens next will make you not feel worth the wait…

I signalled to the bar staff to help deal with these two girls, only to be directed by him to the VIP lounge (probably because Sakurako is a senior VIP here). Sakurako didn't seem like the calm director she had been at dinner. She took off the dress that covered her whole body even though I was behind her, it wasn't until now that I understood why she was the director of an agency full of female models. A full body hidden behind thick layers of tops and skirts, she may not be so superior to the models she is managing behind her back, but looking in the mirror right in front of me, I have stunned. In front of Sakurako was a very large chest (not too big, but it looks massive), bound by a thin silver bra with floral prints on it. While I was still feeling overwhelmed by those breasts, Sakurako pulled me into a kiss, the kiss was so sudden that I staggered and fell to the floor, and Sakurako followed my fall

"What's wrong? Were you surprised?" - She looked up at me, a smirk on her lips “Do you know what you are doing? I already have a wife!" “I thought you must have thought of this situation since our call this afternoon?” “Honestly, I have thought of this, but…” "But?" “You also understand our position, moreover it will affect you badly if it gets revealed.” “You think I'm not prepared for this? That's why I'll be your second wife!"

Has anyone ever told me that tonight is the craziest night of my life? Probably not because usually when you think about the craziest cases, they happen very rarely (at least not yet). But no matter how much I want to ignore that madness, I can't get rid of Sakurako's last sentence - "second wife"? Why is she willing to risk anything to have sex with me like this? But when I think about the scene where the famous man agrees to have sex with the female director that so many people out there can't meet, I want everything to happen even faster. I didn't respond to Sakurako with words anymore, instead a kiss where I took the initiative this time. If she wanted to take this step, then I obviously had no reason not to risk it. Sakurako slowly took off my loose suit, and then pushed me to the floor again

“You got into the fun faster than I thought!” - Sakurako said and smirked “With women like you who take the initiative in front of me like you, you will never have to wait long to be properly cared for!” “Okay! But are you sure you can take care of this?”

Sakurako said and slowly slipped her hands behind her back and took off her bra, her huge breasts and tiny nipples, she must have known what I wanted the most from the moment she noticed my gaze fixed on her. her two large breasts. I raised my hand and started to massage it gently, her breasts were really big for my hand. I squeezed both of her breasts making her moan in her throat. Let me play with them long enough, she brought her left nipple to my lips

“Suck them away! Make me feel like a mother!”

An invitation that gave me no reason to refuse, I opened my mouth to receive her breasts and then closed them tightly as if to lock her nipples in my mouth. I sucked on that nipple, then licked it again and again in my mouth causing her to moan in satisfaction

“That's right…ah…suck it like you want to take every drop of milk from my breast…ah…but don't forget my right breast…ah” - she said between moans

Her breasts make me wonder how she managed to hide them so well that until now I am the first to touch them and enjoy them to the fullest. hours

“Ah…just enjoy them… I'll help you…ah,” she said and tried to take off our panties while I continued sucking on her breasts

She put my already erect cock into her cunt, my cock being squeezed in that wet cunt. And then she began to move her hips skillfully. She kept moaning in satisfaction, I couldn't help it anymore so I had to leave those full breasts to return to those beautiful lips. Then she pulled herself up and bounced back and forth right on top of my cock. The feeling of my dick sliding out and sliding back into that tight cunt and being continuously lubricated by the liquid inside her cunt, accompanied by the sound every time her butt touches my body and on top of that two bouncing breasts right in front of my eyes became the perfect combo for a wild love affair.

“Just bounce…I'm going to cum…bounce harder…ah” “I'm going to cum too…ah…quickly squeeze my boobs…I don't like the empty feeling in my chest…ah”

I raised my hands and squeezed her breasts while she also supported mine, and just like that we had an orgasm, I shot the first wave of sperm inside her. Then I reversed our positions, and now I was on top of her and slamming her pussy hard. Sakurako, who had been gasping for breath from the orgasm just before, continued to moan wildly at my breathless, fast strokes. It didn't take long for me to shoot again

"Kimochi…ah…that's great…keep shooting…shoot more…ah" - Sakurako said while panting "Always ready"

I said and pulled my dick out of her, I turned her over, let her kneel with both hands and feet, and continued to smack my dick into her ass, making her unable to stop moaning when oozes in lust that surges to the extreme.

“Oh my god…so deep…your dick is so deep…I feel so full inside…just keep hitting me, don't stop…ah” - she said

Those round buttocks bounced continuously with each of my thrusts, so I couldn't help but slap them repeatedly

“That's right…slap them…punish them…so happy…finish inside me please…ah”

Her arms were no longer strong, they let go and made her upper body slant to the floor, but she continued to moan, that erotic voice so different from the boring voice she used when she ate. Those sounds that reverberated throughout the room were now the sound of skin slapping against each other, along with her erotic moans that made me unable to hold back any longer and shot inside her one last time. She lay there tiredly while I reached for her breasts to continue to hold on to her breasts

“You seem…like my breasts…no wonder you sucked them so well…I would have come to you sooner” - she said. “So some men must have shot inside your girl before, right?” “It's been a long time…moreover they don't do a good job anymore.” "What does that mean?" - I ask "I've had sex with 2 guys before, who are also directors like you, but both of them are physically weak, just hit a few and they've all shot, making me lose interest. "

It turns out that before she lured me in, she had to sell to other studio owners, but is it too much of a waste for a girl like this to get out with only a few?

“And what about me? Do I do better than those guys?" “Of course you did, for the first time in my life I had such a crazy night!” "Let's sleep now, but if you want, come back to my home with me tomorrow, let me introduce you to my first wife!" “Forget it, I'll call her later. And whenever you want, just call me or text me, and we'll be back." "As your pleasure!"

#toku smuts #sakurako okubo #大久保桜子

82 notes · View notes

freakingoutthesquares · 1 year

Text

Russell's Japan Tour Diary (Part Two) (Part one is here) Words: Russell Senior, Photographer: Richard Priest Taken from the New Musical Express, 24 February 1996

The tawdry entrance to the eating place is billowing steam into the cold night air. Inside it is about the size of a barn with 12 kitchen/bars each having bar stewards round them where people eat and drink. It's busy and people are milling about in the aisles between the kitchen/bars. It's rough and ready with the prices and names of each kitchen's specialities hanging from the ceiling on coloured strips of cloth and paper.

Unlike everything else in Japan, it's very cheap, it's a cross between Bladerunner, a pirate's den, a bookies and a cockfighting pit. No over-bowing, women are laughing, being brassy and not taking tiny steps. We're the only westerners but we're here with our host who is Japanese and Rover who has tattoos and stuff, so in this wild Eastern bar we kind of fit in.

Rover has fallen in love, he hasn't decided who it's with yet, but is winking and smiling at several contenders just to be on the safe side. A woman in silver hot-pants swaggers over to him, blowing smoke in his face. Strangely, our host has no problem with this at all and now seems to positively want US to talk to women... and it all becomes a bit clearer.

Our guide book says, "The industrious men of 17th-Century Japan liked to relax at the end of the day with hard liquor in the company of actresses and prostitutes". The Japanese guide to English etiquette no doubt says, 'The hard-working musicians of 20th Century England love nothing better at the end of the day than to snort cocaine from the pockmarked thighs of groupies"

Soooo... we weren't being protected from the fans in the bar - they (nice girls from good families) were being protected from the foreign devils. They needn't have bothered, but I'm glad they did because this place is ace. After midnight all the deference and daintiness goes out of the window and the drunken bonhomie so familiar to us arrives on a bullet train. Bang!

People are being chummy with us, offering us saké and amusing themselves at our gaucherie, like we'd laugh at one of them putting brown sauce on their cornflakes. Rover keeps asking for 'Tom Cat soup', which transpires to be tasty things on skewers not unlike our British shish kebabs. A woman comes over and it transpires she's offering to have sex with all of us. We make our excuses and leave, having convinced her that Rover has three penises. We leave him extending the hairy hand of international friendship.

In the morning, Rover appears at breakfast devoid of his black leather, wearing an all-white pyjama suit, his head completely shaven, muttering something about the seventh law of enlightenment. He later claims to have ended up in a bar with a scantily-clad schoolgirl kicking a giraffe.

The fans at the hotel in Tokyo think we're super cool but they think they are too - this is better. Don't be like us, oh no, be even more Japanese please. "You must be feeling tired," sympathises a fan who's been waiting up all night to see us. Well actually no, we always look dog rough, but you don't want to hear that, do you? You want us to be plastic fantastic, you've put your money in a vending machine and you get Pulp just how you want it.

Rover has just come in disappointed. Apparently there are vending machines in Tokyo where you can buy schoolgirls' underpants... used. Anyway, turns out he's bought some sixth-form boy's ones, which aren't quite what he had in mind.

Shopping! The toy shop is slightly disappointing. The real toy shop is called Electric Street, where you can buy a gadget for everything. I buy a Jacuzzi for sunglasses; it works, they come out clean and relaxed.

Early evening. We're taken out for a traditional Japanese meal. Shoes must be removed before sitting cross-legged at a low table. We choose a fish from a tank called a 'blow fish'. The sexual organs of this fish are deadly poisonous. Every year 40 people die from eating this fish, along with 40 chefs who must take the honourable way out. The fish is brought to the table with the organs removed and the edible strips of raw flesh arranged in a pattern at the side.

The fish, however, is far from dead, it leans its head upwards looking at us. "This fish has died for you and you must respect it," says our host's girlfriend, who is administering the food ceremony. I don't think anyone's very happy about this and Rover blurts out, "But it isn't dead and if you don't take it away and kill it, I'm going to get my knife out and kill it!"

The fish is taken away to be killed. It tastes like raw fish. The English are drinking saké while the Japanese drink lager. The English have also bought cool cameras in Electric Street and snap away furiously. 'Bloody tourists!' think the Japanese. You probably think it's really weak not to speak out more forcefully about some of the things we see, but we're guests here and must respect their customs. However distasteful it seems, it's probably less hypocritical than our own attitudes to eating animals. Vegetarians be warned: the concept is not understood here and saying, "I don't eat dead animals" often results in a live one being brought.

After the meal we go through a ritual humiliation, Japanese style. 'Karaoke Is Joysound!' says the sign. Hmmmm... Unlike in England, you get a private room with your mates, who choose a song for you to sing and you have to get up and do it. I get 'Trouble' by Shampoo, not something I would ordinarily be inclined to sing in company. Jarvis gets a very badly translated version of MC Hammer's 'Can't Touch This' in which "legit" comes out as "Leggit", etc, etc.

And for Rover, we choose 'Gimmie A Man After Midnight', which he isn't very happy about. On the way out, we see a bloke squatting in the middle of the road staring at traffic which stops in front of him. We are taking the piss a bit, which turns out to be a very bad idea because this is not a drunk, but a Yakuza hard man staking out his territory. Our host is concerned and runs on ahead to make sure there are no more. I recollect the fearsome knives and weaponry for sale in Electric Street and stop taking the piss. The Yakuza chop off their little finger as an initiation - you do not want them as your enemies.

The first concert in Tokyo goes very well. All the concerts sold out very quickly and there is anticipation amongst the stylish and supposedly reserved crowd. I've never seen so much energy without aggression. Everything's running like clockwork. Back in the hotel foyer, which is the size of a football pitch, we are greeted by gift-bearing fans. In the middle of the foyer is a bar area, demarcated by a complete ring of chrome about 2ft-high.

None of the fans dare enter this magic circle. We are joined by some of Steve's supermodel friends called Ginger, Manx, Feline, Persian and Pussy. They are impossibly thin and drape themselves around the bar, nibbling nuts. Rover approaches, his eyes roll around in their sockets like a fruit machine. "How long is it since you tasted some 100 per cent British beef?' he asks. Bingo!

Meanwhile, back in Blighty, we're being lampooned by Spitting Image along the lines of "I want to live like famous people"; fair enough, but what would you do, all my friends and brothers? The second concert in Tokyo we go on to Beethoven's Ninth. It's a flip chill winter bastard outside but inside all is horror show, there are even quite a number of mates in the audience. We fight through a few minor technical problems to cobble together an exciting show. Jarvis has to go off to replace a lost contact lens. To the Japanese, work equals style, times content. I guess you have to live some distance from Camden to appreciate this.

Battling through adversity in a cold climate is something our cultures share, it gives a certain edginess to the evening, which is a positive thing 'cos, as I'm sure you know, there's quite a lot of darkness under all this Pulp froth. Jarvis introduces all the songs in Japanese and this goes down very well. The Japanese seem to get this, they like a good present to be in a good box. The idea that style could possibly subtract from content would not make any sense to them.

Pulp had to get popular with the public before the feral scum-sucking tabloid British music press (Love you too - NME) took any real notice, and then it was in a cartoonised and, to my mind, rather humiliating way.

We awake with the rising sun like the people in the cornflakes advert you always aspire to. I've started rooting through my paltry belongings for presents to give back to fans. The best I can do is sunglasses, which are much appreciated. However, next time in the foyer, I see that half a dozen pairs of my former sunglasses are being worn and it's embarrassing, mainly because it's impersonal and a cheap con, like giving beads for land.

Many of the presents we receive are very thoughtful indeed, very personal and apt. We give the fans so little attention, don't even bother to learn their names and they give us so much. Why these kind, intelligent people do something, on the face of it, so uncool is beyond me, but I'm not complaining.

One of the many preconceptions was that we would be yammered away at about other bands, much as in the rest of the world, only more so and in a comical Japanese accent... "Ah Erastica, you know Bobby Girrespie? You know Brur?" This is definitely not the case; it almost seems impolite to mention another band when they're so focused on you. So that's another preconception, that they're impersonal.

Also going is a well-reasoned belief in the supremacy of European culture, see ya. Actually there is one exception. They do keep giving us pictures of Menswear and assuring us that they are, well, as if they are our long lost children. We've seen so many cheesy pictures of them grinning red-eyed, in Hawaiian shirts that severe loss of ace-faceness has occurred.

The last show in Tokyo is less frenetic, but very good; we play well and do a rare-for-us second encore. Jarvis has sustained a finger injury and is taken to the hospital where an already painful finger is subjected to squeezing, pricking, burning and electrocution.

The tour manager had only come into t'doctor's office to bring t'singer but they gave him t'stick and all! It was noticed that he had a cold and he had a man kneel on his back attaching crocodile clips to his nose, electrocuting him so he thrashed about like a pinhead, his neck pulsing alarmingly. Needless to say they both confessed. God knows what they'd do if you're really ill. No wonder everyone looks so healthy, they're scared shitless to be ill.

Our last meal in Japan, at our request, involves no live animals. We give a present to our host, who then proceeds to blub uncontrollably for the rest of the meal. Any preconceptions that these are cold people went way back. As the orders are being placed, one of the record company men pipes up, "I like Beetles!" Well almost. He stands up and starts to reel off his repertory of the Fab Four's songs which is quite extensive. We're used to this kind of excellently barking mad behaviour, so it's alright. Go buddy go!

We assemble early in the lobby for departure, Jarvis has gone on ahead dressed as a Hasidic Jew to avoid the crowds. Like many well-known celebrities, Jarvis employs a double. Jarvis' double (You may have seen him in the 'Mis-Shapes' video) has been up all night drinking in a dangerous club and staggers into the foyer not only refusing to sign autographs but swearing at anyone who comes near him before failing over a sofa and collapsing on the floor.

Safely checked in at the airport, we ascend an escalator waving gaily to the tearful fans. "Please come back to Japan soon," they plead. "We will, we will," we promise. It's a promise we are to keep because it is the wrong escalator and leads nowhere. After waiting round the corner for some time, the crowd at the bottom is still there so we have to descend the escalator, waving to the now laughing fans. "Welcome back to Japan," they say. Ah ha! Enough, enough, no more gratitude. Let's go somewhere where it's rude.

The record company, who must be ill, offer to pay our room service bill. Oh gullible company did ye ken, ye'd be picking up the tab for half a million yen?

Nietzsche would have aphorised the Pulp philosophy as: 'I have my feet on the ground and my head in the clouds, thus I grow taller.' There is, of course, a combustibility to this. We draw our inspiration from elevating ordinary life, therefore ordinary people relate to it, therefore we become famous, therefore we are no longer common people, therefore we lose the sap that pushes us to the clouds and it goes snap! This is exactly how it should be.

By example, Japan has injected a certain amount of crackle back into this fragile alliance. Perhaps we can last until the stroke of midnight New Year's Eve 1999. Pop!

Based on a true story.

#russell senior #jarvis cocker #pulp #japan #90s #britpop #printed article

12 notes · View notes

dearweirdme · 11 months

Note

Hi there. Hope you're doing well. So your page was recommended for me and I've been reading some of your posts. And it made me just want to share my two cent with you. I'm like new to BTS and this fan base, and by no means am I a conspiracy theorist or anything. But with this news of Tae dating has me thinking. Obviously, no body knows what's happening besides those involved and those in the know. But based on all the videos and news out there I do think T is bi. It has me thinking about the dinner date he and JK had in NY together. Just the two of them no other members and the others didn't know about it until JK posted those pics. The other instances was when JK came back from Dubai and he and Tae stayed in a luxury hotel together for a few days. I mean do straight men do that with their fiends? I don't know, but me being a woman I've never done those things with my friends. Another instance come to mind is T always doing the Leslie Cheng dance moves. I know you don't need to be gay to love or be a fan of LC, but like all the time?

Also, if you watch the Paris video again, when they were all at the bridge about to go on their walk, Tae turned around a few times and it seems like he was looking straight at the photographer, not his manager, but the man recording him. Again, not a conspiracy theorist, just making observations. If he was dating he could make a simple statement like all other celebs have. But they kept quiet for so long. And I don't believe the statement from their companies saying they don't know anything about their idols private lives. They know everything about their idols lives! They always have people around them. Stop lying and be truthful.

That's all I wanted to say. Whatever the truth is I hope everyone respects them and let people live and love. Have a good one!

Hi anon!

I’m well, thank you for asking.

You are not a conspiracy theorist because you happen to think two people love each other. I know that’s a term anti’s like to throw around, but it doesn’t apply here. It’s a fandom, people speculate, that’s it. Closeting is also something that has been proven to happen all to often in showbizz, so also because of that.. not a conspiracy theory.

I have no idea what Tae identifies as. I do know he has hinted at being queer, so to me that certainly opens up the possibility of him dating men. To me two men going to a restaurant together or staying at a hotel together isn’t necessarily a romantic thing. I certainly have done that with my female friends. I think it depends on one’s culture as to wether that is out of the ordinary or not. In my country these things happen a lot and nobody thinks anything of it really. What it is a sign of though is how often Tae and Jk single each other out and that they have a definite bond that goes beyond BTS as a group. The joint stay at that hotel after Dubai seems really cute to me, like they couldn’t wait to spend some private time together. But ultimately, those moments don’t have to be romantic in origin.

Tae referencing Leslie Cheng (in a very public way) to me is him hinting at the possibility of him being queer. It’s so subtle though, that people who don’t know who that is, just take what they see as Tae doing a cute little dance. Tae thinks about things like this though. He references queer art (music, art) on a regular. At the premiere of Dream a few weeks ago he wore a shirt with the depiction of Oscar Wilde for instance, a queer writer from the 19th century. It’s always done in subtle ways, but those who know pick up on it.

Oh, they knew they were being recorded. I think this was a classic papwalk. Tae’s body language was sad to me, it wasn’t his usual proud, head helt high way of carrying himself. I saw someone point out at one point he tugged at Jennies hand to stop her from swinging their hands. No idea if that’s what he was really doing, but it didn’t look like a romantic stroll alongside the river to me. This was business.

In the end it doesn’t even really matter wether it was them or not, or if he was looking at the photographer or not. The message they clearly wanted to convey is that it was Tae and Jennie and they were holding hands. I don’t think a confirmation will come. With fandom being a hot mess, they would’ve already done that to settle things. If it’s real, they wouldn’t want fandom speculating and arguing about cossplayers and whatnot for too long. If it is real, they have already set the steps to out themselves to the world, so a confirmation would only cement things. If it’s real, they are now dating for more than a year and Tae wouldn’t want Army to lynch Jennie.

Thank you for your ask.

#i’m getting recommended?#know that my words are only my opinions #i only interpret things #someone else’s opinion might mean just as much #taekook

5 notes · View notes

asknarashikari · 2 years

Note

Neon: Heh, everyone in the calendars were really Kamen Riders.

Kiriko: Of course.

Kiriko: Although we simply put suspected

Sawa: So that they could keep their private lives

Misora: And some of them prefer not to be known by the general public.

Neon: Wait...

Neon: WHAT IS THE SON OF THE FORMER PRIME MINISTER DOING HERE?!

Neon: He's a Kamen Rider?!

THe girls looked at each other.

Miu: Oops, him.

Akiko: Him.

Hina: Honestly, that man should always be in his work clothes!

Neon: Eh?

Mei: Never mind us, Neon-chan.

Mei: We are still recovering from that man's poor taste in clothes.

Sawa: I dated him and I tried to instill to him to at least coordinate his outfit.

Misora: And failed miserably.

Sawa: One of the reasons I started dating you.

Misora: Honestly an improvement over the things Banjou and I did on our date.

Kiriko: Back on topic, yes, Himuro-san is a Kamen Rider.

Kiriko: Although his father or anyone near him is not aware of it.

Kiriko: We were all shocked when we learned for the first time.

Neon: I'm not going to lie, these calendars look good.

Neon: Where does the money go?

Akiko: 10% of the money goes to the photographer and another 10% goes to the venues and that leaves 80% towards the charities of choice for the year.

Kiriko: Although it almost always ends with 90% going to charities because my brother, who is also a Kamen Rider, is also the photographer.

Neon: Are these still in the market?

Akiko: Let me call Izu-chan to check.

Akiko: She says there's about four dozens worth of calendars left in the warehouse for the past four years.

Neon: *smirks* I have something in mind.

---- a few days later -----

Hina: Neon-chan ended up buying all four dozen calendars for the past four years, didn't she.

Akiko: Well she is the heiress for the Kurama Zaibatsu.

Akiko: I'm sure she had the money to spare.

Hina: if she's bought all of those and she's the heiress.

Hina: I think I know the reason for the purchase.,

--- elsewhere ----

Neon: Neh, please give these to everyone in mama's company.

Neon: Just tell them it was sent to them directly

Neon: Let them sign when they've received it.

Bodyguard 1: Do we include your mother.

Neon: Don't bother.

Neon: She'll just throw it out.

Well... it is for a good cause... so I guess it works out for everyone in the end?

I also think Neon would give one to Keiwa and Ace with a little wink and a note saying that they'd be on next year's edition XD Keiwa starts blushing horribly especially when he sees some of the more provocative ones yelling that there's no way he can manage to do something like that, while Ace just smiles in amusement

Keiwa will be too mortified to use it and tries to pass it on to his sister... but she already has one... and then Keiwa realizes that if he's on next year's edition and his sister buys it before he tells her he's a Kamen Rider.... uh-oh.

#kamen rider geats #kurama neon #sakurai keiwa #ukiyo ace #ask #hxmxbros

7 notes · View notes

emilieautumnarchives · 2 years

Text

Barley, mother fuckers!!!

Posted: October 11, 2005 Archived from The BonnyTymePyrate LiveJournal Archived from BonnyTymePyrate's Journal Archive Archived from The Official Asylum Forum (read more)

Oh my!

What can I say about today? I almost want to document it before it leaves my eolian mind…first there was the cabbie on the way to the show…he was this clearly educated Indian man who was far more articulate than most Americans I know, but even more notably, he was on a mission to educate his passengers on the hidden agenda of the US government, and what’s more, he was bloody right on! He also claimed to record poetry (an Indian after my own heart), and will have a copy of his reading of T.S. Eliot for me the next time he picks me up. He told me jokes too, blond jokes to be exact, that he had written himself and recited upon asking me my real hair color and learning that it was indeed…blond. One of them was something like, “What happened when the blond crossed the road? She ran into the chicken that was also crossing the road.” Ahh, sweet taxi humor… He said a very strange thing…he was going on about the various heinous sex/torture crimes committed against women and children for profit every year, with some rape/dismemberment videos being sold to unidentified dignitaries for $20,000 per copy…and he got choked up, and felt the need to tell me that he wasn’t “gay.” I assured him that weeping doesn’t make one homosexual, but poor thing, some jackass must have told him otherwise at some point…he needs to keep better company. I made him feel better by recounting the many times I’ve broken down while watching CNN, and he seemed at ease. He plied me with a list of informational URLS, and I pray he goes on to do a documentary at some point, because his knowledge of world political history was really truly impressive.

Then there was the event itself…the free drinks downstairs at Smartbar didn’t abate my shock at how few people had come down to support the cause. More were upstairs with the less-pricey tickets of course, but I was expecting everyone who buys too many Prada handbags to turn up and be generous (oh, that’s funny, I just overheard a news story on the show, didn’t see myself, pshaw…)…perhaps they’d already been tapped by one of the other six gazillion hurricane benefits this week…show was nice, five bands, Redwalls were tight…evaded a stalker for a bit (we’ve had to hire police escort before)…hung with my Metro Security buddy Kevin…he does a fantastic job of correcting me as I assume all the men who approach me are gay and therefore safe (due to the “anti-gaydar” chip in my head the aliens implanted)…

Ran into the photographer who shot my Enchant album cover, we’re planning another wild shoot this week…which would make three…maybe I should rethink this…I find myself triple booked for this Saturday, when do I get an assistant?

Kevin had some wise words for me which echoed louder and longer than he knows: “You need to stop being so nice to people.” This is in direct response to my reluctancy to tell people “No,” also, “Go Away.” I hate to think this desire to please is a result of some faded female conditioning which says “Thou Shalt Be A Nice Girl.” Perhaps it is nothing more than my newly single self unaccustomed to dealing with the masses on my own…and unsure when exactly one springs the disappointing news “actually, I’m asexual, so don’t bother.” By the time I find my moment, I’m inevitably in hot water and splashing to get out. I seriously feel as though I’m twelve sometimes. Like, when do I grow up? Yeah, I’m “mature” as your great-grandmother, but when do I <em>grow up</em>? When do I stop assuming every guy who talks to me is gay just because I want them to be, when do I stop being afraid to tell some guy to fuck off, when do I finally deck the guy who informs me that he’s going to jerk off to my memory when he goes home? Lisa Leveridge once called me “ridiculously kind souled,” to the point where I wouldn’t do something necessary for myself for fear of hurting someone else. I didn’t see the downside of that at the time. Perhaps she and Kevin are onto something…perhaps I need to listen to my songs more often…or perhaps I really do just need to grow up and come to terms with the fact that half of the people I encounter are going to walk away saying “what a bitch/cocktease/insert your own expletive here” and be OK with that. It’s about fucking time.

On that note, I am going to KMFDM Wednesday, AND going to see ANDY ROURKE OF THE FUCKING SMITHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes!!!! Haha!!!!

Oh, and then, when I was leaving the club, this guy asked what exactly was the name of the garment I was wearing…and when I clearly told him “panniers,” he repeated back “panties?” No, panniers. Look it up.

Did I get another enlightening cab ride home? Hell no. Driver got pissed because I wanted to pay via CC, which is pretty much standard these days, but he said that he personally had to pay $1.50 commission on every CC transaction, hmmm…so what do I do? That’s right, smile and act sweet and give him a huge tip. Oh Lisa…god help me…

BUT! I LOVE BARLEY!!! Barley is so underestimated, except in songs by Sting and Dead Can Dance of course. I could live on the stuff. Barley. That’s right. Midnight dinner was barley and diet coke w/ rum. Glory be to god in the highest!

Overall, a great and productive evening was had by all. Recording tomorrow. Relief.

Your favorite practicing bitch, EA

#2005 #journal archive #journal archives #journal entries #journals #opheliac era #early opheliac #btp ea #livejournal

2 notes · View notes

junghelioseok · 3 years

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,�� you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

1K notes · View notes

jiminzfilter · 3 years

Text

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

#taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung au #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung #taehyung ff #fluff #implied smut #model taehyung #bts fics #taehyung oneshot #taehyung one shots #taehyung one-shots #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung au #it's 2am what am I doing #slow dancing in the night

366 notes · View notes

lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

Text

Photoshoot Fantasies - Fred Weasley

Title: Photoshoot Fantasies Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dom!Fred, daddy kink, spanking, masturbation (male and female) oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, choking, begging, dirty talk Summary: Fred doesn’t like it when his girlfriend gets naughty without his permission A/N: this is….pure filth. For the anon who wanted some smut with dom!fred. this is literally like 3% plot and 97% smut lmao so I hope you enjoy!! Requests are open and feedback is always welcomed!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oi, lover boy! You’ve got a letter from your girlfriend,” George calls teasingly from the kitchen.

Fred groans as he rolls over in bed, his hands coming up to rub the last bits of sleep from his eyes. He squints as he opens his eyes, due to the bright streaks of sunlight coming in from the break in his curtains. Fred takes a moment to mentally prepare himself for the day before he heaves himself out of bed, and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Good morning dear brother of mine,” George greets far too cheerily for the early hour.

Fred grunts in response and takes a seat across from George, waving his wand so a cup of coffee lands in front of him. He usually isn’t one to need caffeine in the morning, his own natural energy is usually enough to clear the sleep induced fog from his head, but he’s been having trouble sleeping lately since Y/N hasn’t been by his side.

After graduation, Y/N landed her dream job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry. Fred had been so proud of her, and he loved how excited she was each night as she told him about her day over dinner. Unfortunately, her job had one huge drawback: traveling. Every so often Y/N would travel to different parts of the UK and Europe to get updates on the population of certain magical creatures or to help develop and implement conservation plans. A week ago, she left for her longest trip yet, an entire month, and Fred hasn’t been able to sleep well since.

“Where’s this letter then?” Fred asks after he has a few sips of coffee. He can feel the caffeine working its’ magic, and his brain is finally clear enough to string a sentence together.

George rolls his eyes and tosses a thick envelope at Fred. “You two are sickening, you know that? I think she wrote you a bloody novel about how much she loves you and misses you,” George says, pretending to throw up.

Fred flips George off, trying to contain the blush forming on his face. “Don’t act like you didn’t stand in the doorway for 15 minutes last night kissing Angelina goodbye, git.” Fred can feel George’s eyes on him as he fiddles with the envelope. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he bites.

“Someone is feeling feisty,” George retorts with a laugh. “Come on then, open the damn letter. Let’s see how long it takes her to start waxing poetically about your eyes.”

Fred glares at George as his fingers quickly rip open the envelope. Normally he would wait for George to go and busy himself with something else or he’d retreat to his room so he could bask in Y/N’s words by himself, but it’s been far too long since he’s seen her and Fred thinks he might explode if he waits any longer to read her letter. “Oh,” he says softly in surprise, when he only pulls out one piece of parchment. The envelope hadn’t been bulky from the lovely letter she wrote him, but the half a dozen photographs she had included. His eyes scan over the short note, a small smile appearing on his face.

To my dearest Freddie Eddie Spaghetti,

Things are going well up in Scotland, Niffler birth rates are through the roof thanks to the plan we implemented last year. We’ve spent the last few days prepping a large cohort of them to send off to Egypt to assist the rune breakers Gringotts has out there. I’ll be off to France in a day or so to check up on some of the Thestrals we brought to a conservatory outside of Nice a few months ago, hopefully they’ve acclimated well.

I’ve been missing you like crazy, Freddie. You’re all I seem to think about these days, it’s been quite hard to focus on my work. I don’t know how I’m going to manage going three more weeks without seeing your face or being held in your arms. You better rest up, because you won’t be getting any sleep for days once I’m finally back home with you.

I’ve included a few photos that will hopefully keep you company while I’m still away.

Love you lots and lots and lots, Y/N

“That’s it? One stinky piece of parchment?” George asks, clearly annoyed. “There’s my day, ruined. Thought I’d get a nice laugh at least since you’ve been so miserable. What else is in the envelope then?”

Fred’s eyes are still scanning the letter, trying to commit the words to memory and he absentmindedly grabs the stack of photos to show George. “She sent photos,” he responds, finally putting the letter to the side. “Probably of all the baby Nifflers,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Let me see, then,” George says excitedly, reaching his hand out. “Remember when she sent those photos of the baby dragons dressed up in onesies? That was jokes. Bet she put hats on them this time.”

As Fred goes to hand George the stack of photos he gets a glimpse of the one on top. His eyes widen and he quickly pulls his arm back, cradling the photos against his chest. “Nope, sorry. You can’t see them.”

“What? Why not?” George watches as Fred starts to fidget in his seat and a red flush starts to take over his face. “Oh my god!” he says suddenly with a laugh, realization hitting him. “She sent you nudes! What a little minx. You two are far more disgusting than I ever could have imagined.”

Fred clears his throat, choosing to ignore George. “Well I’m going to go back to my room and uh, respond to this letter. See you later.” Fred tries to act as normal as possible as he heads back to his room, desperately trying to ignore George’s cackling. He breathes a sigh of relief as he shuts his door behind him, leaning on it for a moment.

Fred rids himself of his T-shirt and climbs back onto his bed in nothing but his boxers. This isn’t how he planned on spending his morning, but Fred is more than happy to change his plans. He sits up in bed, his back pressed up against his cold wall and his legs splayed out. While Fred would consider himself adventurous in the bedroom, this is the first time Y/N has ever done anything like this, and he can feel himself getting aroused already.

“Merlin,” he groans as he allows himself to look at the first photo. Y/N is laying in the middle of a bed wearing nothing but a lacy red bra and the matching pair of panties, a set Fred is all too familiar with. Her whole face isn’t visible, just her mouth, and as the photo moves her tongue comes out to lick her bottom lip and her hand lightly trails down her torso to her thigh.

He balances the stack of photos on his lap for a moment, his right hand pushing his boxers down to his thighs. Fred had planned on drawing out the experience, but he’s already rock hard from the first photo. He throws the first photo on the bed beside him as he wraps his hand around himself, and he picks the stack back up.

Fred starts to slowly stroke himself as his eyes rake over the next photograph, his mouth running dry. Y/N is laying in the same position as before, but the bra she was wearing in the first photo has been discarded, and as the photo moves her hands massage her breasts and she bites her lip.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, as he moves onto the next photo. Y/N is now completely naked, and as the photo moves one of her hands trails down her front from her breast to her core while her other hand pinches and toys with one of her nipples.

Fred starts to stroke himself faster and is unable to contain the grunts that fall from his mouth as he moves to the next photo. His thumb rubs the sensitive tip of his cock, spreading around the precum that has started to accumulate, helping his hand glide easier as he strokes. In the next photo, Y/N’s mouth is open, and Fred is sure a breathy moan is leaving her lips, as the movement of the photo shows Y/N starting to slowly rub her clit as her other hand fists in the sheets underneath her.

“Oh, fucking shit,” Fred groans as he looks at the second to last photo, his hand stilling on his cock to stop himself from finishing just yet. Y/N’s feet are now flat against the bed, her knees bent and open wide. As the photo moves Fred can clearly see Y/N sink two fingers into herself as her thumb rubs at her clit. Her other hand tugs at the sheets and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, a telltale sign that she’s on the brink of her release.

Fred starts to stroke himself again as he reveals the last photo, his orgasm quickly approaching. Y/N’s entire body is flushed red and as the photo moves her back arches, her toes curl, and her whole body trembles as she reaches her orgasm.

Fred’s thumb teases the sensitive head of his cock as his eyes wander over all of the photos. He focuses on the last one, and as Y/N once again reaches her climax Fred does as well. His head tips back and he lets out a low moan as he releases all over his stomach, his cock twitching in his hand. Fred continues to lightly stroke himself as he comes down from his high, his breath coming out in hard pants.

When he gets to be too sensitive he releases himself, letting his cock lay against his stomach. He reaches for his wand so he can clean himself off with a simple spell. But an even better idea pops into his head.

“Accio, camera,” he casts, watching as the top drawer of their dresser opens and his camera starts to fly over to him. He grips the camera and points it at himself, so his body from his torso to the tops of his thighs are in shot. Fred makes sure that his limp cock and the come on his stomach is the center of the photo, and once he’s pleased with the shot he clicks the shutter button.

Fred places the camera on his bed as the photo prints and develops, grabbing his wand and cleaning himself off with a spell. He pulls his boxers back up and gets out of bed, rummaging around for some parchment and a quill. Once he finds what he needs he writes out a quick letter to Y/N.

To my dearest Y/N,

I’m glad to hear everything is going well with work. I’m so proud of you and the things you do. Things at the shop are going well, the new range of whiz-bangs sold out in just a few days. I’m missing you like mad, I can’t wait for you to get home.

Those photos you sent me were very naughty. How dare you pleasure yourself like that without Daddy’s permission. I think Daddy’s going to have to punish you when he finally gets his hands on you. 10 spanks sounds fair, doesn’t it princess? I think you deserve it, after the mess you caused Daddy to make all over himself.

Love you lots and lots and lots and lots, Freddie Eddie Spaghetti

Fred grabs the now developed photo from his bed as he reads over the letter, a satisfied smile on his face. He folds up the letter and tucks it into an envelope along with the photo before he seals it and addresses it to Y/N. As he goes to leave his room he spots a piece of folded up parchment on his floor and he grabs it, opening it up as he heads towards the window in the kitchen.

I’m going to Angelina’s. Use a silencing charm next time you perv.

Fred laughs at George’s note as he sends their owl away with his letter, already thinking about taking advantage of his brother’s absence.

“Someone is in a good mood this morning,” George muses as Fred saunters down into the shop just before opening.

Fred adjusts his tie as he joins his brother at the till, a huge smile on his face. Just like last week, a letter had arrived from Y/N this morning with another filthy set of photos. This time she was in a lingerie set that Fred didn’t recognize, and she brought herself to her climax using one of the toys Fred had purchased for her as a Valentine’s Day present earlier in the year. Fred had just enough time to bring himself to his own orgasm and write her back before he had to get dressed and head down to work.

“And why wouldn’t I be?” Fred asks as he unlocks the door and turns the open sign on with a wave of his wand. “The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. It’s a beautiful day, Georgie.”

George looks Fred over before he scrunches his face up in disgust. “Y/N sent you another letter today didn’t she?” When Fred sends George a wink he gags. “Bloody disgusting. I hope you washed your hands.”

“And why would Fred need to be washing his hands?” Verity asks as she comes back from the storeroom with some more love potions to be stocked.

Fred’s face flushes red as George start to laugh. “No reason in particular,” he stutters out. Fred turns to George and glares at him. “You’re such an arse.” Fred moves to hit George upside the head, but he ducks his brother’s advance and heads over to help the two customers that have just walked in the door.

“You lot don’t pay me enough to deal with this,” Verity says as she chuckles and shakes her head.

Fred sighs to himself as he sits up in bed, his eyes scanning over some of his notes. He and George are in the early days of developing some new products, and he’s working out some of the initial bugs before they start production next week. At least that’s what he’s supposed to be doing, but his mind is definitely elsewhere. Y/N’s third letter had arrived a few days ago, and he can’t help but let his mind wander to the new photoset sitting in his bedside drawer. It seems that his threats of punishment have fallen on deaf ears, because the photos Y/N has sent have been dirtier each time, and he can’t help but imagine what will be waiting for him in the envelope when her final letter arrives in a few days.

“What do you want?” Fred asks dully when there’s a knock at his door, not bothering to look up at George.

“That’s an awfully rude way to greet your girlfriend after you haven’t seen her for nearly a month,” Y/N says, the smile evident in her voice.

Fred’s head snaps up immediately, a smile taking over his face. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He immediately climbs off the bed and heads over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Y/N drops her bag on the ground and wraps her arms around Fred’s neck, pulling him down so she can kiss him sweetly. “We finished everything up a few days early. Figured I’d come home and surprise you.”

Fred presses their lips together again hotly, his hands moving down to Y/N’s thighs. He lifts her up, his hands gripping her tightly and moves her over to the bed. “God I missed you,” he murmurs into their kiss, before he tosses her onto the bed.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much, not with all the photos I sent you,” Y/N giggles as she lays back on the bed.

Fred’s eyes darken and he can’t help but let out a groan as he thinks about those pictures. He can feel himself start to get aroused, and he grabs his wand, waving it so that his door slams shut, and locks and a silencing charm falls around his room.

“Such a naughty girl you were, Y/N. Taking those photos without Daddy’s permission,” he scolds, his voice low and rough.

Y/N squirms on the bed, looking up at Fred as innocent as possible. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted to make you feel good while I was gone,” she explains sweetly. “And clearly it worked, that photo you sent me made me so wet, Daddy.”

Fred bites his lip as he watches her squirm on the bed, taking pride in the fact that he can see a blush forming on her cheeks. “Oh, you made Daddy feel very good, princess. But you were still being a little brat. And you know what happens to brats? Don’t you?”

Y/N can feel herself getting wet as arousal starts to build in her stomach. She’s been waiting for this moment since Fred mentioned spanking her in his first letter. “They get punished,” she responds airily, fists clenching to keep from touching herself.

“That’s right princess, they get punished.” Fred pauses, letting his eyes roam up and down Y/N’s body. “Daddy think 30 swats is good, 15 on each cheek. Don’t you think, princess?” Fred smirks when Y/N lets out a whine as she nods wildly. “What should I use, hm? My hand? Or should I get the paddle?”

“Your hand, please,” Y/N begs. As much as she loves the paddle, she craves the feeling of Fred’s hand on her ass.

Fred smirks down at her. “Normally brats don’t get what they want. But you asked so nicely, princess.” Fred tears his gaze away from Y/N and takes seat on the end of their bed. “Get naked for Daddy and come stand in front of me.”

Y/N immediately gets off of the bed and rids herself of all of her clothing. Normally when they play this game she loves to drag it out and tease Fred endlessly. But she’s been on the edge for nearly 4 weeks and Fred has already been preparing to punish her, and she doesn’t want to find out what he’ll do if she’s even more naughty now that they’re finally back together. Y/N comes to stand in front of Fred, feeling shy under his intense gaze.

“God you are so gorgeous, princess,” Fred compliments, his hand reaching out to lightly grip her hip. He rubs circles into the bare skin, reassuring her. “Come on then. Get in Daddy’s lap.” Fred helps Y/N get situated across his lap, laying on her front. “Such a good girl,” he whispers, letting his hand run down her back, over her bum and to her thigh. “Do you have anything to say to Daddy? Before he gives you your punishment,” he drawls, his hand pushing in between her legs to rub at her wet folds.

Y/N gasps at his touch, her eyes falling closed. “I’m sorry for being a naughty girl, Daddy,” she moans out as Fred rubs her clit ever so slightly.

“Thank you princess,” he says softly, removing his hand from her core. He places it on her bum instead, lightly massaging one of her cheeks. “Daddy’s not mad at you, princess. But you still have to be punished, do you understand?” When Y/N nods he smiles. “Good girl. I want you to count for me, okay?”

“Yes Daddy,” Y/N responds, getting comfortable in Fred’s lap. A squeak leaves her mouth as Fred lands the first slap to her ass. “One,” she counts breathily. Before she has a chance to recover from the first hit, Fred is landing another hit to her cheek causing her to moan. “Two.”

Fred smirks down at the writhing mess Y/N has turned into after her first 15 spanks. Her right bum cheek is bright red, and Fred resists his urge to lean down to kiss it. “Are you doing alright, Princess? Can you take 15 more?” Fred asks quietly, reaching up to stroke Y/N’s hair. As much as he loves being rough with her, he never wants to hurt her or make her uncomfortable in any way. He’s rock hard in his trousers already, and he wants to make sure she’s getting as much pleasure from this as he is.

“Yes, Daddy. Need more. ‘M a naughty girl, I need to be punished,” she responds desperately. Y/N is soaking wet and her stomach is a pool of arousal. A few tears have snuck out of her eyes from how turned on she is, and she’s basking in the warmth left behind on her bum from Fred’s hand.

“Good girl,” Fred praises, leaning down to press a few kisses to Y/N’s shoulder. “You can use your safe word at any time, you know that right?” When Y/N nods he presses another kiss to her shoulder and starts to massage the bum cheek he hasn’t hit yet. “Count for me again, princess, okay?”

Y/N nods, letting out a moan a Fred lands the first hit to her cheek. “One,” she whines, lifting her hips up to encourage him to spank her again. Fred suddenly lands three hits in a row, causing a few more tears to leak out of her eyes as she moans. “Two, three, four,” she stutters out.

By the time Fred lands the last hit to her ass, Y/N is desperate for release. She’s slowly moving her hips forward, desperate for any kind of friction against her clit. “Daddy please,” she begs.

“Look at my desperate little baby,” he coos, moving Y/N’s hair out of her face so he can see the desperation on it. “Such a good girl you were, princess. Such a good girl for Daddy. C’mere let me kiss you.”

Fred helps Y/N straddle his waist and tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear. He kisses her deeply, his tongue immediately licking into her mouth. Y/N moans into the kiss, rolling her hips against the rough fabric of Fred’s trousers. Fred groans at the contact on his clothed cock, his hips rolling up to meet hers. “God, so fucking desperate for it aren’t you, princess?” he asks as his lips start to trail kisses down her neck.

Y/N nods, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. “Need you so bad, Daddy. Missed your cock. That’s what I was thinkin’ about in all those photos. Thinkin’ about how much I love your cock and how good it feels inside of me.”

Fred groans into Y/N’s neck and pulls away so he can look at her. “That’s so fucking hot, princess. Imagining you lying in bed, touching yourself and thinking of me.” Fred kisses Y/N again. “Go on and show Daddy how you touch yourself, princess. Get in bed and pleasure yourself for me.”

Y/N crawls off of Fred’s lap and onto the bed, settling down in the middle of it. One of her hands starts to pinch and twist her nipple, while the other runs down her body and settles at her core. She watches as Fred stands up and starts to undress himself, her index finger starting to rub small circles on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she moans, tilting her head back.

Once Fred is fully nude he kneels on the bed next to Y/N’s head and takes himself in his hand. He starts to slowly stroke his cock, his eyes crawling over every inch of Y/N’s body. There’s a flush that creeps up her chest, over her neck and to her cheeks and her hips are slowly rocking as she teases her clit.

“So pretty, princess. You look so pretty touching yourself for Daddy,” Fred praises.

Y/N turns her head to look at Fred as she feels her orgasm approaching. She opens her mouth, silently asking Fred to let her suck him off. When he doesn’t immediately give in, she whines. “Please let me suck your cock, Daddy. Please.”

Fred reaches down with his free hand to cup Y/N’s cheek. “Fucking hell you’re desperate for it princess.” He pushes his hips forward just enough so Y/N can wrap her lips around the head of his cock.

Y/N whines around Fred’s cock, her head starting to move up and down. She lets her tongue wrap around the head on each pull back, wanting Fred to release into her mouth. When he starts to slowly fuck his hips forward she hums around him in encouragement. As her climax builds she starts to rub harder circles on her clit, desperate for release.

“Fuck princess, gonna make Daddy come,” Fred moans, his eyes watching his cock disappear into her mouth.

Y/N’s eyes flutter shut as she reaches her orgasm, her whole body trembling. She moans around Fred’s cock as pleasure flows through her, causing him to suddenly release into her mouth. Her motions on her clit slow down as Fred’s cock twitches in her mouth and she swallows his release. As Fred slowly pulls his cock out of her mouth Y/N stops her movement on her clit, bringing her hand up to clean off her finger.

“Holy fuck,” Fred pants, watching Y/N’s lips wrap around her finger. “You are so fucking amazing,” he says in awe. Fred’s cock which hadn’t even gone fully soft starts to harden again as Y/N looks up at him. “Look at what you do to Daddy, princess. His cock is already hard for you again.”

Y/N smiles as she gets up to her knees. She wraps one hand around his cock and starts to slowly stroke it, while her other goes to his neck so she can pull their lips together. Fred’s mouth immediately overpowers hers, and he forces his tongue into her mouth. Fred is fully hard in Y/N’s hand now, and as they kiss he maneuvers them so he’s sitting with his back up against the wall, and Y/N is sitting in his lap.

“Need your cock Daddy,” Y/N whines, pulling her mouth away from Fred’s. “Fuck me Daddy, please.”

Fred chuckles, his hands falling onto Y/N’s hips. “Go on then, princess. Fuck yourself on my cock since you’re so desperate for it.” Fred suppresses a groan as Y/N grinds down against him. Fred and Y/N have tried nearly every sexual position either of them could think of, and they both know that being on top is low on Y/N’s list of favorites; she much prefers it when Fred holds her down and fucks her into the mattress.

“Daddy,” she pouts, grinding down against him again.

Fred narrows his eyes at her and resists his urge to kiss her. “Princess,” he warns. “If you wanna be a desperate cock slut, then be a desperate cock slut and fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Maybe if you’re a good girl and you come on Daddy’s cock he’ll give you what you want.”

Y/N perks up at that, and she leans forward to kiss Fred slowly as she rises to her knees. One of her hands’ rests on his shoulder, while the other reaches back to grasp the base of his cock.

Fred breaks their kiss so he can watch as Y/N lines him up with her entrance. Y/N whines as she sinks down, her eyes fluttering shut at how full she feels. She sinks down until their hips meet and Fred is fully inside of her.

“Fuck you’re tight, princess. Always so tight for Daddy,” he praises. He groans as Y/N starts to roll her hips, his grip on her tightening. “Go on, baby,” he encourages. “Get yourself off on my cock.”

“Oh,” Y/N moans, her hands gripping Fred’s shoulders tightly. She starts to slowly pick herself up, stopping when Fred is only halfway inside her, before she slams herself back down. “So good, Daddy,” she pants.

Y/N fucks herself on Fred’s cock like that for a few minutes, growing frustrated when she fails to hit the spot inside of her that will bring her to her orgasm. “Daddy please,” she whines.

“Come on, princess. You know how to fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Come around Daddy’s cock and he’ll give you what you want,” he encourages.

Y/N leans back, placing a hand on each of Fred’s thighs and uses the leverage to lift herself up. “Oh fuck,” she gasps as she sinks back down, the tip of Fred’s cock finally brushing her sweet spot.

“You look so pretty, princess. Getting yourself off on my cock,” Fred praises, helping Y/N to lift her hips off of him. “Such a good girl.”

Y/N moans as she fucks herself on Fred’s cock, already feeling her orgasm approaching. She starts to move her hips desperately, searching for her release. “So close, Daddy. Touch me Daddy please,” she pleads.

Fred smirks before he leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to Y/N’s lips. “Come on, Princess, come on Daddy’s cock,” he encourages, one of his hands leaving her hip so he can rub circles on her clit.

With one more downwards movement of her hips Y/N’s walls tighten around Fred as she comes, her body shaking as her orgasm rolls through her. “That’s it, princess. Such a good girl,” Fred coos quietly, his thumb slowing its motion and his hips rocking slightly to help her through her orgasm.

Fred kisses Y/N slowly as her breathing starts to return to normal. She shifts around on his cock as their lips move together and it takes everything in Fred to not come right there. “You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight, princess. Doing so well,” he says, breaking their kiss. “Can you take more, baby? D’you want Daddy to fuck you into the mattress?” Fred pecks Y/N’s lips. “It’s okay if you don’t baby. Daddy just wants to take care of you.”

“Want you to come inside me Daddy,” Y/N tells him, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Want you to pin me down and fuck me into the mattress.”

Fred doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Y/N hard and flips them over so her back is on the bed and he’s hovering over her. He throws both of her legs over his shoulders, pinning her to the mattress with his hips. He braces himself with one hand as his other comes up to grip Y/N’s throat and he pulls all the way out before he slams back into her.

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” Y/N moans as Fred starts to fuck into her relentlessly. The tip of his cock is brushing the spot inside of her and she’s already so sensitive from her previous two orgasms, and with the way Fred is gripping the side of her neck she knows she won’t last long.

“God, princess,” Fred grunts as Y/N’s walls clench around him. “Such a good pussy. You always feel go good wrapped around Daddy.” Fred lands a particularly hard slam as Y/N moves to touch herself. “Hands off, princess. Want you to come just from my cock. Can you do that for Daddy?”

Y/N nods, too busy moaning and whining to answer Fred verbally. Her body feels like it’s on fire, her toes curling and her back arching as she reaches her climax. “Daddy,” she moans lowly, as she comes around Fred’s cock, a few stray tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

“Fuck princess,” Fred moans. Y/N’s walls tighten and twitch around him, bringing him to his own release. His hips still as he empties himself inside of her and he crashes their lips together. Fred slows their kiss down as they both recover, unable to stop the smirk that forms on his mouth when Y/N whines as he slowly pulls out of her. Fred collapses on the bed next to Y/N and she immediately cuddles into his side as he wraps his arm around her.

“I love you,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth.

Fred turns his head so he can kiss her properly, not pulling away until they both need to breathe. “I love you too, Y/N,” he says softly. “Are you alright? Did I go too far?”

Y/N shakes her head, chuckling at Fred’s concern. “Not at all, love. It was incredible.” She pauses so she can press a kiss to his neck. “I’m glad I have the next few days off, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”

Fred laughs and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Good thing I have you all to myself because I have quite a few plans for us.”

Y/N looks up at him, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “Oh yeah? What might those be?”

“Let’s just say our cameras are definitely going to need more film when I’m done with you.”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley smut #Fred Weasley fic #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x y/n #fw #golden

2K notes · View notes

loousir · 3 years

Text

[Merman] From a Distance

Popular Octomer Male x Photographer Male Reader Part One

Cassian

Warnings: Octoboy flirting

•︎☆×【Ｐｒｉｄｅ】×☆•

2 of 7 The Seven Sins Series

Masterlist | Part Two | Part Three

---------------------------------------------------------------

*Click*

The snap of a camera lense sounded as you took one of soon to be many pictures. The breeze blew gently, ruffling your clothes and getting some loose strands of hair in your face. Even though it was early in the morning, the coast line shops were pretty busy. You walked down the street, snapping the occasional picture here and there.

"Oh, um, excuse me!"

A shy voice called out. You turned back to see a short brunette with soft freckles littering their face. "Were you calling for me?" They nod as they stop in front of you. "Yes, s-sorry for stopping you but... Are you a photographer by chance?" They asked softly. You smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. Need me to take pictures of something?" You asked with a small laugh which made the other smile.

"Actually, yes. Our photographer cancled last minute and we have a shoot in 10." They started to get a little frantic, trying to convince you to take photos for them but just the chance to take pictures had you hooked. "I can take them. And if we need underwater shots I can do those. The camera's Mer-tech and I was planning to do some later."

You smiled more and the other was beaming. They grabbed your hand and shook it. "You're perfect!! Thank you so much! I'll pay you double for this!" They said before pulling you towards where their photo shoot was.

"Hold on a second." You said as you readied your camera. The other looked back at you, about to ask what was wrong when you took a few pictures of them. They seemed shocked and a blush covered their face. "Sorry, we can keep going." Their blush didn't let up but they kept a hold of your hand none the less.

The photo spot was a beautiful cove cave that was one in a million. Your photographer instinct kicked in and you saw so many photo opportunities as you walked deeper into the cove's cave. "Is this where we're taking photos?" You asked as they let go of your hand. They nodded. "Yeah, have you ever worked with a Mer before?" You shook your head when they looked back at you.

"We're taking photos of a Caribbean Reef Octomer for the Mid-Human Monthly. He's gonna be on the cover page and have two dedicated to him so we need a few different pictures." Your eyes widened slightly and you nodded. 'He must be impressive then...' You thought to yourself.

A few moments had past which let you get introduced to the crew that you would be working with. A blonde pygmy satyr woman came up to you and slapped a hand on your shoulder making you jump slightly. "So you're our new camera guy." Her accent gave away that she was from the south. You nod and she has a grin on her face for a moment before getting semi-serious.

"Can I see some of your pictures." "Oh, yeah," You said pulling out your phone and opening up your "portfolio" folder. "I can also show some of the ones I took today." She scrolls through the pictures and has an impressed look on her face. "These are really well edited." She commented as you pulled up some of the pictures on your camera. "Oh they're not edited or anything yet. That's just the camera and some setting tweaks." You mumbled out mindlessly while scrolling to the cameras gallery.

She looked back up to you and you looked to her. "You got these pictures, with that camera?" You nodded and showed her some other pictures but also the best one that you took of the one who recruited you to be a stand in photographer. "I'll be damned. It really is unedited." She hands you back your phone and you close out the gallery app before turning it off and slipping it back in your pocket. "I look forward to working with you and depending how this shoot goes, working with you in the future." Your eyes widened slightly as you shook her extended hand.

"Well I sure hope it goes great then!" You said as she guided you over to the deep pool in the middle of the cove. There was a deep river/crevass that lead out to the open ocean which allowed merfolk to make their way in here as well. "Do you have a change of swim clothes in that bag?" She asked, referring to the bag over your shoulder. "Actually, yeah, I do. I was planning on going under the pier later today. Is there somewhere I can change my shorts?" She nods and motions towards a familiar nb brunette who was fiddling with some papers. "Dakota can take you over to our temp makeup room. It'll give you some privacy to change."

You nodded and thanked her before walking over to the other who you now knew as Dakota. They looked up to you when they heard your footsteps crunching against the gravely ground. "Oh, um, hi." They still seemed nervous from when you took their picture. "Could you show me where your makeup room is? I'm gonna change so I can take pictures." They blushed softly and nodded, leading you over to a curtained, box like structure. "I'll wait outside so no one comes in." They said softly as you stepped into the box.

"Thank you, Datoka." You said as you disappeared behind the curtains. After a few minutes you re-emerged and walked over to Dakota. "Could I also ask you to watch my stuff?" They looked up to you and nodded. You bowed slightly out of habit and thanked them before going over to the director. "I'm ready when our model is." You said, holding your camera close. She nodded and motioned for someone else to come over before walking off to do something.

A tall guy with what looked like a bottle of alcohol came over to you and cautiously poured a glass. "Don't worry, it's not what you're thinking. It's so you can go take pictures easily without drowning. I'll drink some too of your worried about it." You looked at the glass he was holding out to you. It was a light blue drink with some bubbles in it. It looked and smelled like some sort of tropical soda drink.

"Plus we are a professional company, we have rules and regulations to follow regarding things like this. But once you drink up and sign these papers," He said while handing you two pages and a pen, "You'll be ready to go get started with Cassian. He should be here..." He said, dragging his words a bit as he looked around the water. You scanned over the information and it was a simple agreement term for taking the potion.

After confirming there was no sketchy things, you signed and drank the potion. It was like a tropical drink.

Before you knew it, right when you had handed the stuff back, a tan muscular torso with long blonde hair, breached the surface not too far in front of you. You watched as he brushed the lose, wet hair from his face, making a few people in the crowd blush.

'Lucky bastard. He's one of those guys that can do anything and make it look hot.'

You thought to yourself before the guy standing next to you started to talk. "You'll be good for about 6 hours and you'll be able to communicate like on land. Oh also, that, is Cassian." He said, referring to the blonde that you were looking at. Cassian was making casual conversation with some of the group before the same Satyr lady came and talked with him.

You watched for a moment longer before the two blondes looked over to you, making your heart jump slightly. Before you knew it, the tall guy had left your side and the blondes were making their way over to you. You walked a little to meet them halfway.

"I don't think I properly introduced myself!" She said looking up to you. "I'm Siv Penningfon. I mostly do freelance director work for Mid-Human Monthly." You bowed to her slightly. "(Y/n) (L/n), I just moved here but I do freelance photography. If it's a gig that pays I'll take it." You said with a small laugh, making her smile more.

"Of course we can't forget who we're here to take picture of. This is Cassian. I'm sure Dakota told you about him so I'll spare you the details." You smiled, laughed, and nodded before walking over to Cassian to shake his hand. His hands were strong and callous, clearly saying he did some sort of physical work. "Nice to meet you, (Y/n)." He said with a soft smirk. You instantly knew what he was playing at and simply brushed it off with a soft smile and nod.

'I know how to play that game Cassian. Don't go getting full of yourself now.'

"Right! I do believe you are ready to go take pictures right?" You nodded again as you pulled your hand away from Cassian's and looked back to Siv. "Yeah, where are we gonna go first?" Siv thinks for a moment. "I have some spots but it's still a bit early for them. How about you pick the first spot?"

Your eyes lit up, knowing the perfect place for an early morning picture. "Yes! I know somewhere."

A few moments had passed of you leading the other two over to a place near the entrance of the cove. "The way that the sun shines through the water is perfect. It'll frame his figure nicely and offer an enhancement to his already strong contrast to the waters colour." You mumbled out to yourself before stepping into the water. "Well, I'll let you get to work. You've got an hour in this spot but if you're done before then, we can move on." You nodded to Siv before going under.

It was a weird sensation. You hesitantly took a breath, not inhaling water but oxygen. Carefully, you got used to this whole underwater breathing thing before swimming over to Cassian who was messing around with the kelp. You snapped a few pictures of him as he was distracted by something on the floor before noticing you and looking up, half smirking, showing off his sharp canines. You took some more pictures of his little show before guiding him on what you wanted for the pictures.

'For being so full of himself, he listens well. Kinda shocking.'

Cassian looks to his left, holding out his hand as if to hold some of the sun's rays. His hair was floating beautifully around him, the sun framing his facial structure. You snapped a bunch of pictures of him as he continued to pose. You stopped for a moment to mess with some of the camera settings and Cassian saw this as an opportunity to mess with you. He carefully made his way over to you, gently wrapping one of his tentacles around your ankle.

You looked down to his tentacle before looking at his octopus half. It was gorgeous. The way it faded from his tan skin into a much darker brown that steadily spotted and faded out into a bright blue that still held heavy contrast to the more greenish blue water behind him. His tentacle slowly moved up your leg to your thigh but before it could get any further you slapped it away, looking up to him unamused. "Let's maybe wait until we arent working anymore." You said to him with a small wink before going back to what you were doing. Cassian blushed softly and pulled his tentacle back close to his body.

The two of you were under the water for the rest of your hour time limit, racking up hundreds of pictures before you decided to head back up to the surface, Cassian following you. Once you got to the sunny surface, you moved your hair from your face and looked around. You weren't too far from the cove, being on the outside of it just past the entrance on the opposite side of the first photo spot. "I just noticed, I don't think you've even said anything to me since we met." He shrugged and thought for a moment. "I guess I haven't. Not much to say I suppose."

Right as he finished his words, Siv came over to the both of you to show the spot she was talking about. "Cas, if you need a private area I can get you one." Cassian shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, just give me a few and I'll meet you over there." He said, knowing which spot she was talking about. You followed Siv over to a small, foliage covered area. You were confused as there was nothing more than a small pond that Cassian would definitely overflow. Siv seemingly noticed your confusion and decided it might be a good idea to explain the situation. "Cassian is one of the lucky mer-folk that can shift. So he should be getting changed and heading over here soon." You nodded your head and messed with the camera settings again.

A few moments had passed by and a quite tall, yet familiar blonde came over to the two of you wearing a white button-up shirt that had the top three buttons undone, a slim pair of nice dress pants, and a pair of simple leather slip-on dress shoes. His hair was still loose but he had a hair tie around his wrist. "Good lords." You mumbled under your breath before looking away with a blush. Siv seemed to have heard you as she gently pat your back. "This is the last spot unless you wanna take some more pictures. I'm sure the two of you got more than enough pictures while you were under." You smiled and nodded.

"I'd say that's up to Cassian. If he wants to take more pictures somewhere else then I would be down to do it." You said turning back to look at him, only to lock eyes with his bright blue ones. Cassian smiles. "I can't think of anywhere off the top of my head, but if I do think of somewhere while we're taking pictures, I'll let you know." You nodded and looked back to Siv who waved to the both of you as she walked away to leave the two of you to synergize.

He looks at you with furrowed brows for a moment before asking. "Why didn't you change?" You looked up to him and responded, "I'm gonna dry off before I change. I kinda have to put these back in my bag and I don't wanna do that if their wet." Cassian nods and hesitates to say something before changing his mind and not saying it. "Let's go over to the gazebo first."

You followed him over to the gazebo where the two of you took many pictures before moving on to some other spots. After 30 or so minutes, Cassian had stood up and walked over to you. "Are you not wearing sunblock?" He asked, looking at your shoulders. "I was but I guess I have to reapply."

"Well how about you sit in the shade and I go grab a shirt and some water for you." He said with a handsome smirk. You smiled cheekily back to him as you sat in the shade before watching him walk off. A few moments later he returned with a seemingly large shirt and two bottles of water. "Dakota was being protective over your bag so I just grabbed one of my shirts." You nodded as he handed you the sunscreen he pulled from his pocket and the water.

"Do you need help putting the sunscreen on?" You thought for a moment before shyly nodding. "I would appreciate it... I put it on before I left this morning but apparently it wasn't very well done..." He smiles and takes the sunblock back. You sat down on a rock nearby and he popped the cap and put some on his hand before asking you to hold the bottle for him.

He started with your arms, going shoulder to wrist. His hands, though calloused, were soft in rubbing the sunscreen into you skin. You blushed as he continued on and put some on your face, starting from your forehead and moving down. His hands cupped your cheeks, rubbing gently under your closed eyes. "Can I tell you something?" He asked quietly.

You looked up to him and tilted your head slightly. You may have only known him for a few hours but the fact that the confidence he carried so boldly had disappeared had you confused. "Is it odd to say I've never felt this way before? I've never had anyone treat me the way you have." You furrowed your brows after he said that. "What do you mean?"

Cassian shakes his head. "Sorry... I don't know what I'm saying." You didn't press him any farther so you decide to just nod and let him do as he pleased. He put on a smile and said, "Let's keep taking pictures after you put the shirt on." You nodded and slipped the shirt on as he drank from his water bottle. The shirt was much bigger than your frame, going down to about your mid thigh.

The two of you continued the photoshoot without incident. About another hour passed before Siv came to grab the both of you. "That's just about all the time we have for now. Cas, you've got some interviews as well soon. And (Y/n), I'll have you go over some documents for both pay and legal permissions. I'll let you head back on your own but just be back before the hour is over." Both of you nodded and you looked up to Cassian. "Hey Cas?" He looked down to you, cheeks flushing slightly when he did.

"Would you wanna come to the festival this weekend?"

---

3050 not proof read

#monster x male reader #male monster x reader #x male reader #monster male #monster male x male reader #mxm #m4m #octomer x male reader #merman x male reader

282 notes · View notes

itgirlification · 3 years

Text

supermodel | jjk

the last three months have been hell for you, but Jungkook seemed to be living his best life.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: explicit mentions of body image and insecurities, infidelity, anal sex, oral (male receive), foul language (kinda), etc.

now playing: supermodel by sza

part two part three

Exactly three months ago, your and Jungkook’s 2 years relationship officially ended. Unofficially, it ended about 5 months ago. And for about one month now, Jungkook’s been seeing someone else.

Your heart and mind told you not to do it but you couldn’t help calculating. Three months ago, you were still dating, two months later, he started dating someone else. That must mean he’s known her for a while. Did he cheat on you with her? Well, it’s not like it matters now anyway, does it?

Her name was Yuki, an undeniable Japanese beauty. You were still in college, studying music and she was a famous model who appeared in internationally known magazines. You assumed she met Jungkook during a photoshoot since he was a professional photographer who often worked for companies like Vogue and Playboy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her.

It wasn’t the fact that he moved on so quickly that hurt you the most. It was the fact that he knew all about your low self-esteem and how you lack confidence. Especially about your body. And he still went and dated a model, of all professions in the world. He was definitely over you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he did it on purpose. But thankfully, you knew better, he looked too happy for that to be even considered. He forgot about you.

You’re making yourself sadder by remembering all the times he assured you you were beautiful and your body was nothing to be ashamed of. The times he let his fingertips run over the lines of your stretch marks, whispering in your ear how much he loved them and how they reminded him of Tiger stripes. The times he caressed your jiggly thighs and told you how sexy he thought they were.

Then your mind would drift back to the phone in your hand, the Instagram page of Yuki Sakurai opened, careful not to accidentally like anything and expose yourself. Not that she’d notice anyway, she had 3.7 million followers, while you had a private one with 500 followers and no posts, and she gets around 300 to 700 thousand likes on each post, depending on whether she posts random photos or pretty pictures of herself. Or newly, your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Oh, how crazy everybody goes whenever she posts him. People love them together. You couldn’t blame them. Two attractive people? Of course, they’re gonna look great together.

Fucking great.

That the end of your relationship with Jungkook would look like this was semi-predictable from the beginning. He did admit to you that he never thought he’d date someone that looked like you when you first dated. And your heart broke a little. But he also made up for it in those two years, it was a beautiful relationship nonetheless.

While you weren’t exactly his ‘ideal’ type, he was definitely yours. You always heard from other women ‘when in a relationship, the man always has to love the woman more than she loves him. Otherwise, it won’t work.’ You never really got the saying until your breakup with Jungkook happened. It was the fact that you clearly loved Jungkook more than he loved you that lead to this.

“Oh my goodness!”, your roommate, Jane, dramatically exclaimed. “Will you stop feeling bad for yourself and do something? That’s not what hot girls do, sis.”

Jane was a lovely girl with a not so lovely temper. She always means well and you got along perfectly as soon as you met. Which was around 3 and a half years ago.

She looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. You obviously didn’t want her to see you snooping around your ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s Instagram but it was too late.

“Seriously, yn?”, she took your phone in her hand and threw it on the bed. “Let’s go somewhere, you can’t do this to yourself anymore. I’m not letting you.”

Jane was clearly worried about you at this point. The only thing you did these last few weeks was eating, shower, cry, sleep and miss a whole bunch of classes. This wasn’t good at all.

“Where?”, your question was short.

“To the mall? Or the nail studio? Anything that’ll get you out of this fucking dormitory.”, Jane sighed, pulling the blanket off of you, making you whine a little. “C’mon, go put on some cute outfit and we’ll go.”

You felt bad since she was trying hard to make you feel better. But it didn’t really work.

You nodded, standing up from the bed, nonetheless. You picked out a cute two-piece dress, that brought back blurred memories of the time you went on a date with Jungkook, wearing the same two-piece. Bet Yuki would look cuter in this...

‘Shut your petty ass up, yn. It’s embarrassing, the way you’re stuck on a taken guy who wants nothing to do with you’

You wish you could change the way you think, even if it’s just for an hour or two. You wish you would stop imagining Jungkook judging you when he saw you naked or when you told him that you wished you could cut off some of your fat with a pair of scissors.

You were beyond ashamed of yourself. Why wasn’t it easy for you to just stay by yourself? why were you so desperately in need of Jungkook by your side to the point where you’d lock yourself in your room for a month just because he isn’t there?

You needed Jungkook. You became so attached to him in those two years, because you always saw him as a permanent, a forever. Not just a temporary, not just a distant memory. You already saw him as the father of your children, as the man you’re gonna marry.

You were so blinded by the fact that you had him, that you forgot you could lose him anytime.

“I’m done, let’s go.”, unenthusiastically, you announced to Jane, who was already waiting for you.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”, In contrast to your spirit, hers seemed to be all roses and daisies. “Lord knows you need it...”

__________

“Look at this cute ass skirt, girl”, Jane pointed at a chic, wine mini skirt she was holding. “You know, when I saw it back there I wanted to have it, but it’d look so much better on you”

You took a few seconds to admire Jane’s beauty. She was about 3 cm taller than you, had a great posture, and almond, dark brown eyes that suited her dark skin tone perfectly. Her body leaned more towards the slimmer side.

“Shut up! No, it would not”, you let out a small giggle. “It would look gorgeous on you, buy it.”

She smiled a little at your laughs. She was happy to see you at least a little cheerful again. “Yeah, but I think it’d look better on you. I’m entitled to my own opinion, am I not?”

You knew this debate was gonna go back and forth, because of her stubbornness. “Let’s both buy the skirt.”

You ended up doing so, added by a bunch of bags full of clothing. This may’ve turned into your new coping mechanism. Who needed therapy when you can go on a shopping spree?

Two hours were spent in boutiques and clothing stores and Jane decided she was tired, wanting to visit the local spa.

“No, seriously, these Riverdale seasons just keep on getting worse and worse. Netflix needs to step up their game ASAP”, Jane ranted, making you laugh at how serious she takes it. “It’s getting embarrassing. I’m being for real.”

The two of you were sitting in the whirlpool at the spa, relaxing your whole bodies a little.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I don’t watch these new Netflix shows anyways. Been stuck on the vampire diaries for the last 7 years”, you chuckled, knowing you hated trying new things. “Can you pass me one of those magazines?”

Jane nodded, grabbing a random one from the table next to her and handed it to you, without looking at it.

The cover of it caught your eyes immediately. How could it not, when your ex’s new girl looks absolutely dazzling on the front page of it.

‘Supermodel Yuki Sakurai talks summer fashion tips, struggle with self-love and most importantly, her hot, new boyfriend the media is going crazy over’ was the headline of the Harper’s Bazaar Magazine cover.

You felt your stomach getting sick and your breath getting heavier, but you still flipped the pages until you found the one with her interview. You began reading it, skipping the boring parts.

‘Int: so, we see you have a new boyfriend. Tell us, how did you guys meet?

Yuki: Yeah, he’s an amazing guy. We actually met about six or five months ago at one of my photoshoots, since he’s a photographer and we exchanged numbers and stuff, and then we made it official mid last month.’

About six or five months ago? You were with him back then, but her answer was too unclear to find out if he cheated or not.

“Woah, yn, you okay?”

You entirely forgot about the fact that you were with Jane, let alone somewhere other than your bed.

Before you could react, Jane snatched the magazine out of your hand.

“You really can’t escape them, huh?”, She sighs, taking you in her arm. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. In a few months, you’re gonna look back to this and think wow I really was stuck on a guy who’s scared of microwaves and cried like a bitch when Iron Man died.”

You laughed, punching her arm playfully. “You know, I actually love these things about him. Shows his sensitivity and the way he perceives things.”

Jane looked at you as if she didn’t believe you were actually saying that stuff. “Girl, you’re overanalyzing this. Let’s just throw this shit in the trash, okay?”

She put the magazine aside.

“I just don't know what I did wrong.”, You murmured. “I know we weren't the best, but we didn't even fight that much. We could’ve talked it through.”

Jane pursed her lips and cooed. “You know, relationships are complicated sometimes. The reason why he broke up, to begin with, is probably not your fault.”

“Well, what if it is? I mean what if I was too fat or too ugly for him?”, you asked. “If he wanted a skinny girl so bad, I could’ve lost weight for him, I don’t get it.”

Jane looked at you like you lost your mind entirely. “I can’t believe you just said that! Even if that was the reason, which it wasn’t, you shouldn’t make yourself suffer because of it. That’s his loss. You’re beyond gorgeous and you have an amazing body.”

“You’re just saying that.”, tears slowly started coming up in your eyes. “But the thing is Jungkook knows all about my insecurities. Why would he do that to me? I know he knows that I’m still not over him.”

You usually didn’t like crying in front of other people, but you didn’t really care at the moment, besides that was Jane. You trusted her with your life.

“Girl, men are trash, I can’t believe you’re crying over one right now, seriously.”, she wiped your tears and held your face between her hands. “You know, honestly, I’ve read so many articles about how models actually hate themselves and have like the lowest self-esteem so in conclusion, no matter how miserable you are, his new girl is even more miserable.”

You knew Jane didn’t mean it in a harmful way, but it sounded harsher than needed. “I don’t hate her, she probably doesn’t even know about me. I’m just really insecure. He upgraded from me. He’s dating a whole model now.”

The situation just felt like a deja vu of these last few weeks laying in your bed, even though you were at the spa with your friend. You were supposed to have fun, yet you didn’t feel like having any.

“Why would you feel insecure when all you’ve seen of her are Instagram posts and red carpet pictures? She’s supposed to look beautiful, it’s her job.”

To a certain extent, Jane was right, but that didn’t really help your situation, you still felt bad about yourself. You stayed silent.

“C’mon, this isn’t fun anymore. Let’s leave.”, Jane mumbled.

_______

it’s been two days since the incident at the spa and you felt a little bit better now.

Those days were spent reading the same three book series you’ve read your entire life, overthinking, hot Cheetos, Indian takeout, and Netflix. It really wasn’t as miserable as it sounded.

You were just taking a little rest before term break ends and you have to go back to the shithole college again.

Jane was using the time until college starts again, but in different ways than you were. She was planning on going to some frat party in an hour and forget about the world’ for a minute. Or till 4 in the morning, where she will most likely drunk call you and ask you for a ride back to the dorms, because the friends she went to the party with were shit-faced as well and were in no way capable of driving anywhere without the cops stopping them.

Going out partying on a Friday night was a Jane tradition. In the past, you’d sometimes go with her, but you mostly spent your time out with Jungkook doing something more fun than partying could ever be. Now you can’t do that anymore, but laying in bed is more ideal than a party for you at the moment.

“How do I look?”, Jane twirled around to show off her black cocktail dress. She looked beautiful.

“You look beautiful.”, you responded to her question. “Are you leaving now?”

“Hm”, she said, to which you nodded. “You sure you don’t wanna come with me? It’s gonna be really fun.”

You shook your head no.

“Alright”, she shrugged, making her way out of your bedroom. “But I told you, it’s gonna be fun.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll stay here, I have shit to do.”

“Yeah, right, like binge-watching the vampire diaries and taking 5-hour naps”, she said in a sarcastic tone. “Anyway, bye-bye, Vic’s already waiting for me in the car.”

Victoria was perhaps one of the most obnoxious people you know, yet she was too much of a nice person for you to talk shit about her. The voice of your intrusive thoughts couldn’t help but to, though.

“Alright, bye, take care and say hi to Vic from me.”

After Jane left, an hour went by like it was just a couple of minutes. You were starting to get real bored and decided to watch some regular tv in hopes to find something you enjoy. You ended up not finding anything fun, but you still watched it, because you didn’t have anything else to do.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang and you were suddenly worried. Either this is a serial killer or Jane forgot something.

But to your surprise, it was neither, but it was none other than

“Jungkook?”, truly, those were the only words you were able to mutter out at your shocked state. “What are you do-“

At the speed of light, you were interrupted by your ex-boyfriend pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t say a word.

You weren’t expecting him. Not knowing how you were supposed to feel at the moment, you just let it happen. You were sure your mental state couldn’t get any worse than that, no matter how this will affect you in the end.

“Is Jane home?”, for the first time in 3 months, you’re hearing his silky voice again.

Jungkook knew Jane always had some type of special hatred for him with her killing stares and her bitter comments. You didn’t notice either though.

He also knew she must hate him even more after your breakup. Or maybe she liked him more now since she was able to get rid of him without killing anyone.

“No”, your answer was short and it made a weight fall from Jungkook’s shoulders before he continued kissing you.

It wasn’t anything you haven’t done before, yet it felt like it’s been ages since it last happened. Your mind drifted to the thought of Jungkook and his model girlfriend. You were asking yourself what their sex life was like, if she was tighter than you or if she had stretch marks and scars.

Jungkook’s lips were moving south, giving your neck wet kisses, while you were wondering why he broke up with his model girlfriend. Or if he even did. You felt selfish for not caring.

Removing your clothes one by one, you were left in your underwear, while Jungkook only had his boxers on.

This body was yours. You knew it inside out. Where he liked to get touched and where he preferred not to. You knew him better than anyone else. You were sure.

You already moved to your bedroom, since Jungkook effortlessly carried you there. You were sat on his lap, facing him and your hands were in his messy hair. His hands were around your waist, he was slightly smiling into the kiss, as you started grinding on him. He loved how easy it was for him to turn you on. You were still his.

Cutting off the kiss, he looked you in the eyes, while his hand was on your cheek. “Say aah.”, he said.

You widened your mouth obediently, which was followed by him collecting as much saliva as he could in his mouth and spitting it into your mouth.

“Swallow.”, demanding, he spit on your face, his eyes become darker with every passing moment. You did as he said.

You looked at him with big eyes. He knew you loved it. You’ve always had a thing for him degrading and humiliating you during sex.

He started grinding on you almost desperately. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Getting out of his grip, you dropped to your knees and freed his hard dick from his drawers. You reached for it and started pumping it, and licking it. Your spit was leaking down his dick as you used it for lubrication. Then you started sucking on it, just the way you used to.

Jungkook’s groans and satisfied sighs were enough to make you even wetter than before. You enjoyed giving more than receiving.

Your mouth was wet and warm around him, giving him a feeling of familiarity. You lick over the tip a few times, then proceed to fully take him into your mouth.

The bulge in your throat could be seen and the way your eyes were tearing up a little wasn’t bothering you at all. You loved giving.

Jungkook started thrusting in and out of your warm, welcoming mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat multiple times.

“Fuck”, a throaty moan left Jungkook’s mouth, giving you hints that he was about to cum. And he did, releasing in your mouth before you swallowed it. “Shit, baby, that was so good.”

You felt your face heat up and a sheepish smile made its way to your face. Your throat was sore.

The two of you were on the bed again. To you, it felt like it was the times before your breakup again, when you’d purposely start an argument just for the makeup sex because Jungkook wasn’t giving you any anymore. It was like sex was the only thing to look forward to.

You felt attached to Jungkook to a point where it was dangerous. You weren’t okay when he wasn’t around. He affected every part of your life and God knew it wasn’t always a positive thing. Maybe it was the fact that he took your virginity. Maybe because he was your first boyfriend, the first guy that made you believe you were worthy of love and that someone was actually capable of loving you. One thing you knew was Jungkook had an expansive influence on your life.

While you were practically drowning in your own thoughts, Jungkook was busy taking off your underwear.

“You okay?”, Jungkook calmly asked you, looking at your riddled face.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay.”, you sounded distracted, Jungkook wasn’t sure about asking you what it is though. He didn’t feel like getting personal.

So he shrugged it off and started kissing you again, his dick was unsurprisingly hard again as he played with your tits. He drew lines over the stretch marks of your thighs and kissed them.

“Can I fuck your ass?”, Jungkook’s raspy, tired-sounding voice casually asked, to which you quickly nodded, knowing that Jungkook’s favorite position had always been anal. He was massaging and gripping your ass firmly.

“This is gonna hurt at first, but I promise it gets better.”, He warned calmly into your ear, while putting some lube on his dick and just went right into your ass, slowly thrusting so you don’t feel as much pain.

He was right, it did hurt a lot when he first put it in, but the pain just changed into pleasure in a matter of time and his slow-paced thrusts helped with the adjustment.

“Fuck, I missed this ass”, he practically growled into your ear, as he kept on thrusting in and out, steadily gripping your wide hips with his big, veiny hands. “It just doesn’t feel right when I’m inside her ass.”

You knew your confidence shouldn’t rely on Jungkook bringing his girlfriend down, but you couldn’t help but feel good about your body when he said that. It’s been a while since you felt even a tiny spark of confidence. You weren’t so fond of him mentioning her while he was inside of you.

Your soft moans rang through the whole room like sirens, while he watched your ass jiggle against his pelvis, thrusting in and out faster every second. He missed this.

You had always thought you were indecisive, but you knew exactly what you wanted. You just couldn’t have that, so you’d eventually have to settle for less.

Jungkook wasn’t to blame for it, you just couldn’t concede your shortcomings. The movie’s villain wasn’t always the real villain.

Your hands traveled to your pussy to make sure you’d orgasm as well, when you heard Jungkook’s breathing getting heavier and his thrusts getting gentler than before, indicating that he was gonna cum soon. You were certain he could make you cum with just anal, but you wanted to cum with him.

With furrowed eyebrows and drops of sweat dripping down his body, Jungkook looked down at your arched back. The whole scene was sticky, especially when Jungkook presses his upper body to your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and kissing the spot.

It was kinda odd, having sex with your ex-boyfriend you were crying over just a day ago. There was a certain intensity to it though. Like your long-lasting nostalgia was finally fulfilled.

You’ve realized you couldn’t imagine yourself being intimate with anybody else. Jungkook already knew your body, how it looked without the material protecting it, the strawberry skin, the slightly sagging breasts you swore you’d surgically remove once you had the chance to but didn’t. He knew where you liked being touched, he was the first one to even touch you in those places.

You were unsure what you’d do with yourself when he leaves.

Jungkook’s thrusts slowly started stopping and you too felt the familiar sensation in your stomach.

Suddenly, you two were nothing but desire, fear, and pleasure. And faster than you could process, you came together.

For minutes after your orgasm, you were just laying on the bed, thoughtless. Maybe a little regretful. Not you, but him.

You weren’t facing each other, but you could hear each other’s breathing. Your stomach was filled with something you’d describe as post-sex melancholia.

All of a sudden, Jungkook stood up from the bed, startling your resting self a little, but you decided to keep quiet, wanting to see what he was going to do.

He made his way to the door to leave what he thought was your sleeping body laying there. You couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Where are you going?”, your soft voice suddenly rang in his ears. “Don’t you wanna stay?”

He didn’t know how exactly to tell you. You’ve always been a gullible little girl, you were the type of girl to think fucking equals love. Little did you know that wasn’t the case at all.

“Yn.... you know I can’t”, Jungkook responded, you knew it wasn’t gonna be good when he said your name like that. “I got a girl at home and I don’t wanna mess shit up with her.”

There it was. Your suspicion was corroborated. He was still going out with the model and you were a certified home wrecker. Great.

You physically felt your heart breaking. “Bu- but why are you here then?”

You were incapable of being mad at him at the moment. It was your fault for letting him in, again. After breaking your trust and your heart.

“This was a mistake”, he declared, not looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry, yn...”

He’s moved past your room now, already at the exit of your dormitory. He was about to leave.

“You already ruined shit with her when you came here and fucked me.”, your voice was small, but your words were heard.

Without looking back, he left.

And you went back to your room, standing in the middle of it for a minute in silence before your brain fully processed what had happened and your tears started pouring.

743 notes · View notes