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flux1563 · 2 months ago

Text

A true identity ft. Heejin

Tags : squirting (a lot), love at first sight, first time, creampie

Words : 10K+

Heejin stumbled into the crowded café, her nose buried in a dense textbook on quantum mechanics. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the murmur of students discussing assignments and weekend plans. She was lost in her own world of quarks and leptons, oblivious to the hustle and bustle around her.

"Hi, can I sit in front of you?" Y/N said, his voice a smooth blend of accents that hinted at a life spent traveling.

Heejin nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Yeah, of course," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Heejin, a lesbian college student, is engrossed in her quantum mechanics textbook at a café when she notices a new customer, Y/N, an international student with tan skin and a charming presence. His confidence and unique features capture her attention, causing her to feel self-conscious and attracted for the first time in years. He approaches her, asking to sit nearby.

Y/N flashed a dazzling smile before sliding into the chair opposite her. He set down his own textbook, something about international economics, and pulled out a sleek laptop. The silence between them was charged with an electric tension that Heejin couldn't ignore. She stole glances at his strong hands as they danced across the keyboard, his fingers moving with a grace she hadn't expected from someone so tall. His eyes remained focused on the screen, the only indication of his presence the occasional furrowing of his brow.

Heejin took a deep breath and closed her quantum mechanics book with a soft thud. "You're not from around here, are you?" she ventured, hoping to break the ice.

Y/N's fingers paused on the keyboard, and he glanced up at her. "Ah, you noticed," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'm half European and half Asian. My mom's Korean, but my dad's from Spain. I grew up bouncing between Seoul and Madrid."

Heejin felt a spark of curiosity ignite within her. "That must be quite an interesting upbringing," she said, her voice growing a little stronger.

"It has its perks," he replied with a grin. "I can swear in three languages without batting an eye."

Y/N, a new international student with an intriguing mix of European and Asian heritage, sits near Heejin in the café. Heejin, feeling a growing attraction, initiates conversation. He shares his unique background, having lived in both Seoul and Madrid, and they bond over the novelty of his multilingual proficiency in swearing.

Their conversation grew from there, stretching into a tapestry of shared experiences and laughter. Heejin found herself forgetting about her homework, her mind fully engaged with Y/N's tales of bullfights and flamenco nights. His stories painted vivid images in her mind, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the richness of his life experiences.

As the hours passed, the café grew quieter as other students filtered out, leaving only a handful of die-hards still tapping away at their laptops. The barista glanced over at them occasionally, but mostly let them be, enjoying the lightness they brought to the space.

Heejin and Y/N continue to connect, sharing personal stories and laughter, filling the café with their vibrant energy. As they discuss their individual experiences, a strong bond forms, and Y/N expresses his curiosity about Heejin's life in Korea, revealing his own longing to understand the culture beyond his occasional visits.

Their conversation continued, weaving through the evening shadows until the café's lights began to dim, signaling the approaching closing time. Reluctantly, they gathered their things, the warmth of their newfound camaraderie lingering as they stepped into the cool night air.

"So, what do you like to do for fun around here?" Heejin asked, her curiosity about Y/N's hobbies piqued by their shared love of diverse experiences.

Y/N's eyes lit up at the question. "Well, I've recently picked up swimming," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "There's something about the water that just feels like home."

Heejin felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine. "Really?" she replied. "I can't swim at all. It's always been one of those things I've been meaning to learn, but you know, life gets in the way."

Y/N's smile grew even wider. "Well, it's never too late to start," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "In fact, I'd be happy to teach you. My mother has a private villa with a pool just outside the city. It's the perfect place for lessons."

Heejin's eyes widened with surprise. "A villa? That sounds amazing!"

Y/N nodded. "It is," he assured her. "And the pool is just the right size for learning. Plus, it's pretty secluded. No prying eyes."

The conversation shifts to hobbies and Y/N reveals his passion for swimming, suggesting to Heejin that he could teach her at his mother's private villa outside the city. Heejin is intrigued and accepts the offer, excited by the prospect of a secluded, private lesson.

SUMMARY^2: Heejin, a lesbian college student, meets Y/N, a tan and attractive international student, in a café. They bond over personal stories and Y/N's multilingual swearing, forming a strong connection. Y/N offers to teach Heejin swimming at his mother's private villa outside Seoul.

Heejin felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at the thought of spending the weekend with this enigmatic stranger. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something undeniably alluring about him, something that called to her adventurous spirit.

"Okay," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Send me the details, and I'll be there."

Y/N pulled out his phone, his fingers deftly navigating the screen. "What's your number?" he asked, extending the device towards her. Heejin recited the digits, her heart pounding as she watched him save her contact. The phone buzzed in his hand, and he handed it back to her with a smile. "Now you have mine," he said. "How about this weekend ?."

"Yes, I can. I'll come on Saturday," Heejin said, the words spilling out before she could second-guess herself. A wave of excitement washed over her as she imagined the weekend ahead, filled with the promise of swimming lessons and stolen moments of quiet companionship.

The days until Saturday seemed to crawl by, each tick of the clock echoing in her ears like a drumbeat. When the fateful day finally arrived, Heejin awoke early, her mind racing with thoughts of Y/N and the mysterious villa that awaited her. She carefully selected her outfit—a modest yet flattering swimsuit and a loose-fitting sundress to wear over it.

Heejin accepts Y/N's offer for a weekend swimming lesson at his mother's villa. Despite her nerves, she eagerly anticipates the private, secluded setting, choosing an outfit that balances modesty with allure.

With her heart in her throat, Heejin made her way to the address he had sent her, nestled in the lush countryside. The scenic journey took her through winding roads lined with cherry blossoms, their pink petals fluttering like confetti in the breeze. The villa came into view, a picturesque oasis amidst the greenery. It was a modernist masterpiece of glass and steel, with a sprawling pool that gleamed like a sapphire under the early afternoon sun.

Heejin approached the gate, her hand trembling slightly as she typed in the code Y/N had provided. With a soft click, it swung open, revealing a path lined with stepping stones that led to the front door. She followed it, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the serene silence. The door was unlocked, and she pushed it open to reveal an expansive, minimalist living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering an unobstructed view of the pool beyond.

Y/N emerged from a side room, clad in a pair of board shorts and a loose-fitting shirt, his hair damp from what she assumed was a recent shower. "You found it," he said with a grin, his eyes sweeping over her appreciatively. Heejin felt a flush of heat rise to her cheeks as she took in his bare feet and the way the fabric clung to his muscular frame.

"Welcome to my mother's sanctuary," he said, gesturing to the pool. "Ready to conquer your fear of water?"

Heejin arrives at the villa, captivated by its beauty and seclusion. Y/N greets her, and she feels a rush of attraction for his physique. He reaffirms their purpose for the visit: to conquer her fear of water with his swimming lessons.

Heejin nodded, her pulse quickening as she reached into her bag and pulled out the swimsuit she had packed. She slipped into the bathroom, her hands shaking as she unzipped her dress and slid the fabric down her body. The swimsuit she had chosen was simple yet flattering. As she adjusted the straps and smoothed out the material, she couldn't help but think about the last time she had worn something so revealing.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Y/N already by the pool, his back to her as he dipped his toes into the water. The sight of his broad shoulders and muscular back sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. He looked up as she approached, his gaze lingering on her figure before he quickly averted his eyes. Heejin felt a sudden urge to turn back, but the excitement of the moment was too potent to resist.

Y/N's eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of her, and before she could say anything, he turned and dove into the pool, the water splashing around him as he submerged himself completely. When he resurfaced, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and a mischievous grin played on his lips. "Come on in, the water's perfect!" he called out.

Heejin, feeling self-conscious, changes into her swimsuit and joins Y/N by the pool. His lingering gaze and subsequent dive into the water hint at his own attraction and eagerness for their swimming session.

Heejin took a tentative step towards the pool's edge, her heart racing. She could see the outline of his erection pressing against the fabric of his shorts, and she knew that she was the cause of his arousal. A blush spread across her cheeks, but she didn't look away. Instead, she took a deep breath and jumped in after him, the cool water enveloping her body in a gentle embrace. She surfaced with a gasp, her eyes locking onto his as they both treaded water.

Their bodies brushed against each other as they moved closer, the electricity between them palpable. Heejin felt the fabric of her swimsuit stick to her skin, outlining her hardening nipples. Y/N's gaze dropped to her chest before he coughed, clearing his throat awkwardly. "So, about those swimming lessons..."

Heejin couldn't help but laugh, the tension dissipating like bubbles in the water. "Yeah," she said, "let's get started."

Y/N nodded, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He moved closer, placing his hand gently on her back as he began to instruct her on the basics of floating. Heejin, however, had other ideas. With a playful wiggle of her hips, she pushed her ass against his growing arousal, feeling the heat of his body through the thin barrier of their swimsuits.

Y/N's instruction faltered for a moment, his breath hitching as he felt her soft curves pressing against him. "C-concentrate, Heejin," he managed to say, his voice strained.

Heejin overcomes her nerves and jumps into the pool, where she notices Y/N's attraction to her. Despite the awkwardness, they begin their swimming lesson with Y/N trying to maintain a professional demeanor while Heejin flirts subtly, hinting at her own desires.

Ignoring his protest, she leaned back, her eyes wide with feigned panic. "Oh no, I think I'm drowning!" she exclaimed dramatically, her arms flailing in the water.

Y/N's instincts took over, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to keep her afloat. Her breasts pressed against his chest as she gasped for breath, the sensation sending a bolt of desire through his body. He could feel her heart racing, matching the tempo of his own as they remained entangled in the water.

"You're okay," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. Heejin's eyes searched his, a playful smile playing on her lips as she pushed herself even closer, her legs wrapping around his waist. "You're not fooling anyone, Heejin," he said, his tone low and husky.

Undeterred, she did it again, the friction between them sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Each time she feigned distress, her body brushed against him more deliberately, her movements becoming increasingly sensual. Y/N's resolve began to crack, his body responding to her teasing with a fervor that surprised even him. He knew he should stop her, maintain the innocent facade of their swimming lesson, but the allure of her touch was too great.

"Stop it, I know it," Y/N said, trying to keep his voice firm despite the waver in his tone. His arms tightened around her, his hands sliding down to her hips. He could feel the heat of her skin, the water acting as a thin veil that only heightened the intensity of their contact.

Heejin playfully pretends to need saving, increasing the physical contact between them and pushing the boundaries of their supposedly innocent swimming lesson. Despite Y/N's attempts to keep things professional, the sexual tension becomes unbearable as their bodies continue to touch and move against each other.

Heejin meets Y/N for a swimming lesson at a private villa, feeling a growing attraction and anticipation. Upon her arrival, she's drawn to his physique, and their lesson starts amidst unspoken desires. She flirts subtly, and the lesson evolves with increased physical contact and unmistakable sexual tension.

Heejin giggled, the sound music to his ears as she leaned back, her body arching against his. "But the water feels so good," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/N took a deep breath, willing his body to cooperate. "Heejin," he said, his voice a low growl, "I think it's time we take a break from swimming."

With a mischievous grin, Heejin nodded and allowed him to help her out of the water. Her legs felt wobbly on the slick tiles, and she leaned into him for support, her skin glistening with water droplets that sparkled in the sunlight. Y/N's eyes trailed down her body, taking in the way the fabric of her swimsuit clung to her curves. He knew that he had to regain control of the situation before it spiraled out of his grasp.

As they stepped onto the floor, Y/N's restraint snapped. He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was as hungry as it was unexpected. Heejin's eyes widened with surprise, but she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she tried to keep up with the tempo of his kisses. His tongue danced with hers, exploring the depths of her mouth with a passion that left her breathless. She could feel his cock pressing against her thigh, demanding more than she was prepared to give in such a public space.

"Form the beginning, u want this, right?" Y/N murmured against her lips, his breath hot and ragged. His question hung in the air, a declaration wrapped in a whisper.

Heejin's playfulness leads to a passionate kiss between them, taking the situation beyond swimming lessons. The intensity of their interaction escalates, with both of them acknowledging the underlying desires that have been brewing.

Heejin just smiles and nodded, the tension of their shared desire making her dizzy. She had never felt this way about a man before, but there was something about Y/N that made her want to explore the uncharted waters of her sexuality.

With trembling hands, Y/N reached for the strings of her swimsuit top, his eyes never leaving hers. He gently untied them, revealing the soft mounds of her breasts, the tips already pebbled with arousal. Heejin gasped as the cool air kissed her skin, her nipples hardening against his fingertips as he cupped them, weighing their heft in his palms. She felt a thrill of power as she watched his eyes darken with desire, his pupils dilating until they nearly eclipsed the warm brown iris.

Her own hands found his shirt, her fingertips tracing the ridges of his abs as she pulled it over his head. His muscles rippled under her touch, the sun-kissed skin warm and inviting. He was everything she had ever fantasized about in a man—tall, handsome, and confident—and yet, she had never felt so drawn to anyone before. It was as if a part of her she had buried deep had been suddenly awakened, and she was eager to explore this newfound aspect of herself.

Heejin's curiosity leads to the removal of their swimsuits, exposing their bodies to each other's hungry gazes. The intimate act of touching and exploring each other's physiques reveals the depth of their mutual attraction and marks the beginning of their sexual journey together.

Heejin felt the heat of his gaze as it traveled over her body, his eyes lingering on her breasts before dropping to her swimsuit bottoms. She could feel her cheeks flush with anticipation as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband, pausing to look up at him for permission. Y/N nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, and she pushed the fabric down her legs, stepping out of it and kicking it away.

Y/N's breathing grew heavier as he took in the sight of her naked form, his own arousal now clearly visible through his board shorts. He reached down and began to tug at the waistband, the fabric straining against his erection. Heejin watched with rapt attention as he revealed himself to her, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the size and girth of his cock. It was nothing like she had ever seen before in her fantasies, and the reality was both terrifying and thrilling.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her skin. He took one of her breasts in his hand, the touch sending a bolt of pleasure through her body. His thumb brushed against her nipple, sending a shiver down her spine as it pebbled beneath his touch.

The sexual tension culminates in the removal of their last barriers, revealing their naked forms to each other. Heejin's first-hand experience with a male body evokes a mix of fear and excitement as she confronts the reality of Y/N's arousal, setting the stage for their imminent physical intimacy.

"Your boobs are not that big," Y/N said, his voice a mix of wonder and admiration. "But that's perfect size for me." He leaned down, his breath hot against her skin as he took the sensitive peak into his mouth, suckling gently. Heejin gasped, her hands flying to his head to hold him closer, the sensation overwhelming. He switched to the other side, giving it the same tender attention, his tongue flicking and teasing as he worked his magic.

"Ahh... keep doing that, Y/N," Heejin panted, her legs threatening to buckle under the weight of her growing arousal. "My pussy is getting wet each time," she confessed, her voice breathless and needy. She felt his cock twitch against her stomach in response, and she knew she wasn't the only one affected by their passionate dance.

Without a word, Y/N dropped to his knees before her, his eyes never leaving hers as he hooked his thumbs into the sides of her swimsuit bottoms and pulled them down. Heejin stepped out of them, leaving her completely bare before him. The cool air of the villa's living room kissed her skin, sending goosebumps down her spine. Y/N's gaze dropped to her neatly trimmed pubic hair, the folds of her pussy glistening with the promise of what was to come.

Y/N expresses his appreciation for Heejin's body, focusing on her breasts and eliciting a powerful reaction from her. He then proceeds to remove her swimsuit bottoms, leaving her vulnerable and exposed, while his own desire for her is clearly evident.

He leaned in, his nose brushing against her sensitive flesh as he inhaled deeply. The scent of her arousal filled his senses, a potent aphrodisiac that sent his own desire spiraling. His tongue darted out, tracing the seam of her labia with a gentle touch that made her whimper. Heejin's knees buckled slightly, but Y/N's strong hands held her in place, his grip firm yet reassuring.

"Ahh, so good, Y/N," she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed as he continued to tease her with feather-light kisses and nips. His mouth moved to her clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub as she squirmed under his touch. He could feel her legs tremble, her body poised on the edge of orgasm.

But just as she was about to crest the wave, Y/N pulled away, leaving her panting and needy. "Now, for the real lesson," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. He stood up, towering over her, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached down to cup her cheek. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, sending another shiver down her spine.

Heejin's eyes grew wide as she felt his thumb slide down to her neck, then further, until it brushed against the pulse point between her breasts. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice a whisper of breath.

Y/N begins to perform oral sex on Heejin, eliciting strong reactions of pleasure, but then abruptly stops to announce the 'real lesson'. His intimate touches continue to escalate, leaving her desperate for more, and setting a mysterious tone for what is to come in their sexual exploration.

Heejin and Y/N kiss passionately, moving beyond swimming lessons. They strip each other, revealing their desires. Y/N appreciates Heejin's body and performs oral sex, stopping to announce a 'real lesson'. The intense interaction leaves Heejin eager for the next phase of their encounter.

Y/N's smile was knowing, his eyes dark with lust. "You'll see," he murmured, as his hand trailed lower, until his fingers brushed against the slickness of her pussy. He traced her folds, his touch feather-light, as if he was learning the contours of a new map. Heejin's eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned softly, her hips bucking against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, before sliding two fingers into her without warning. She was tight, tighter than he had expected, and she gasped as he filled her. He stilled for a moment, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion before he began to move, his fingers exploring her depths with a gentle yet insistent rhythm. Heejin's legs wobbled, but she managed to stay upright, her hands gripping at y/n to keep her balance standing.

"Fuck, you're so good," she moaned, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in her belly. His thumb circled her clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body, and she could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building, a storm brewing on the horizon of her senses. "My pussy is stretching by your fingers," she gasped, her voice ragged with need.

Y/N chuckled against her neck, his breath hot and tickling. "You're so tight, Heejin," he murmured, his voice thick with his own arousal. "I can feel every inch of you around me." He began to pump his fingers in and out of her, the slow, deliberate strokes pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Y/N's manual exploration of Heejin's body intensifies, inserting his fingers into her for the first time and bringing her to the brink of orgasm. His skilled touch and gentle dominance leave Heejin desperate for more, her voice filled with ragged desire.

"Your fingers are so big, fuck," Heejin moaned, her eyes flying open to meet his.

Y/N's smile grew wider as he felt her pussy clench around his digits. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low purr.

"Yes, yes, I'm...I'm going to cum," Heejin panted, her nails digging into his shoulders as the waves of pleasure grew stronger.

Y/N watched as Heejin's body began to tense, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. He knew she was close, and the thought of her coming apart in his arms was almost too much to bear. He increased his pace, his fingers curling inside her, hitting that spot that had her entire body trembling.

"I can't take this anymore," Heejin whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own breathing. Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, and her body arched back, pushing her breasts out towards the sky. "I'm cumming..."

Y/N felt her walls tighten around his fingers, the muscles in her pussy clenching in an involuntary spasm as her orgasm took hold. He watched with rapt attention, his own breath catching in his throat as she began to squirt, the clear fluid spurting out and coating his hand. It was a sight he had never seen before, and the raw, unbridled passion of it was intoxicating.

Heejin reaches climax as Y/N's fingers fill her, the intensity of her orgasm causing her body to convulse and release. The new experience is overwhelming for both, with Y/N visually captivated by her uninhibited response.

Heejin's trembling grew more intense as she rode the waves of pleasure, her nails digging into his skin as she clung to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her firmly in place as she came, his other hand still working her clit in slow, deliberate circles. The sound of their wet skin slapping together filled the quiet room, a testament to their passionate dance.

When her climax finally subsided, Heejin's legs gave out, and she would have collapsed if not for Y/N's strong embrace. He held her up, her cheek pressed to his chest, as she took deep, gulping breaths, trying to regain her composure. His heart thudded beneath her ear, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of her own.

"I didn't know you were a squirter, Heejin," Y/N said, his voice filled with amazement as he pulled back slightly to look down at her.

Heejin blushed, her cheeks flaming red as she buried her face in his chest. "I... I don't know it too," she admitted, her voice muffled by his skin. "It was my first time."

Y/N chuckled, his grip on her tightening as he stared down at her. "Well, you're a natural," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Now, it's my turn to give you a taste of what I can do."

After her first orgasm, Heejin's legs give way, and Y/N holds her up, both marveling at her squirting. Heejin confesses it's her first time experiencing this, and Y/N, impressed, looks forward to giving her another new experience.

With that, Heejin dropped to her knees before him, her eyes never leaving his as she reached for the waistband of his board shorts. He stepped back slightly, allowing her to pull them down, revealing his rock-hard cock that stood tall and proud. It was the first time she had seen one up close, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of trepidation and excitement as she took it in her hands.

Y/N's breath hitched as she began to explore him with her tongue, her movements tentative at first as she traced the veins that snaked along his shaft. The taste of him was unfamiliar, a heady mix of salt and musk that filled her mouth. She marveled at the velvety softness of his skin against the firmness beneath, her curiosity piqued by this foreign yet fascinating landscape.

Without warning, he surged forward, his cock pushing past her lips and filling her mouth. Heejin's eyes went wide with surprise.

Her cough took them both by surprise. It was a sudden, involuntary spasm that sent a jet of saliva and pre-cum spraying onto his abs. Heejin's eyes watered as she pulled back, her cheeks a fiery red. "I'm sorry," she gasped, her voice muffled by her hand as she tried to cover her mouth.

Heejin, eager to reciprocate, attempts to give Y/N oral sex for the first time, but her inexperience leads to a surprise cough and a messy spray of saliva and pre-cum. Embarrassed, she apologizes, revealing her newness to the act.

Y/N looked down at her, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "It's okay," he managed to say, his voice strained. He could feel the tension in his body dissipating, the moment of passion giving way to a sudden burst of laughter. "It's your first time with... something that size," he added, trying to keep his tone light.

"Just relax, sweetheart," he murmured, placing a hand on the back of her head and guiding her closer to him once more. This time, he pushed in more slowly, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion. Heejin took a deep breath, her eyes watering as she felt him fill her mouth. The sensation was strange, yet she was eager to please him, to make him feel the same way he had made her feel moments ago.

"That's good, breath through your nose," Y/N said, his voice gentle and soothing. Heejin nodded, taking his advice and finding that it helped ease the discomfort. She took another deep breath, the air flowing in and out of her nostrils as she took more of him in. His grip on her hair tightened slightly, his hips starting to move in a slow, shallow rhythm.

Heejin felt his cock swell in her mouth, the veins pulsing with each heartbeat. She could feel his thighs tense as he tried to maintain control, his breaths growing quicker. She wrapped her hands around the base of his shaft, her thumb playing with the sensitive skin beneath as she took him deeper.

Heejin, still embarrassed, tries to recover and gives Y/N oral sex again, with his gentle guidance. She adjusts to the sensation and takes him deeper, eager to satisfy him and learning from his instructions. Y/N's body responds visibly, showing signs of approaching climax.

Y/N explores Heejin intimately, bringing her to a powerful climax through manual stimulation and making her squirt. She confesses her inexperience, and he eagerly awaits the next step. Heejin attempts oral sex, but initially fails due to inexperience. With Y/N's guidance, she successfully performs the act, bringing him pleasure and learning from the experience.

The sound of his moans grew louder, his hips jerking slightly as she found a rhythm that suited them both. His hand on the back of her head grew firmer, guiding her movements as he grew more and more lost in the sensation. "Your mouth is so warm," he groaned, his voice strained.

Heejin felt a thrill of power as she took him deeper, her eyes watering but her determination unwavering. She had never felt so alive, so consumed by passion before. Y/N's hand tightened in her hair, and she knew he was close. She focused on his reactions, the way his breath caught when she hit the right spot, the way his cock twitched against her tongue.

With renewed confidence, Heejin began to move faster, her throat relaxing around his girth. Y/N's moans grew more urgent, his hips thrusting in time with her bobbing head. "Ughh, your throat is tight," he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure.

Suddenly, Heejin felt his cock swell even more in her mouth, and she knew he was on the brink. She braced herself, her eyes watering as she took him as deep as she could. With a roar, Y/N's hips bucked forward, and he came, his hot seed filling her mouth. She tried to swallow it all, eager to show him that she could handle it, but the sheer volume of his release was overwhelming. Some of it spilled out, dribbling down her chin and onto her chest.

Heejin becomes more adept at giving Y/N oral sex, taking his cock deep and responding to his cues. His pleasure builds until he climaxes, and she eagerly tries to swallow his cum, but the amount overwhelms her, leaving some on her chin and chest.

Heejin looked up at him with a mix of pride and embarrassment, her cheeks flushed from the exertion. Y/N's eyes were glazed with pleasure, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watched her try to contain his cum. He reached down and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, his thumb coming away sticky with his essence. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice gentle. "You did so well."

Heejin felt a rush of gratitude and affection for him, his words easing the self-consciousness that had taken hold of her. She leaned back, her mouth still open slightly, and allowed him to help her to her feet. The warmth of his cum on her chest made her even more aware of her nakedness, her nipples pebbled from the cool air.

"I didn't mean to spoil it," she said, her voice small as she tried to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. "It just... happened."

"Don't worry, Heejin," he said, his voice soothing. "You're doing great.".

With that, Y/N gently turned Heejin around, the water sluicing off her body as he positioned her at the pool's edge.

"Let's go to the next step," he murmured, his voice filled with a primal need that sent a thrill down Heejin's spine. He scooped her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the side of the pool. The cool tiles pressed against her back, the heat of her body in stark contrast to the chill beneath her.

Y/N reassures Heejin after her first blowjob, praising her efforts. He then carries her to the side of the pool for the next stage of their intimate lesson, leaving her feeling a mix of pride and desire.

Y/N took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, his eyes devouring every inch of her bare flesh as the sun danced across her skin. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock still hard and slick from their earlier encounter. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through her.

Heejin nodded, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She had never done this before, never been with a man, but there was something about Y/N that made her feel safe, made her want to explore this new aspect of herself.

Y/N positioned the head of his cock at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He paused, waiting for her nod, and when it came, he pushed forward, inch by inch, filling her with a pressure she had never felt before. Heejin's eyes squeezed shut as she felt herself stretch around him, the sensation both painful and incredibly arousing. She took a deep breath and pushed back, urging him to continue, her body hungry for the connection she had been craving.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice strained as he pushed into her, feeling her walls clench around him. He could see the determination on her face, the way her teeth were digging into her bottom lip as she took him deeper and deeper.

"I know it's big," Heejin said, her eyes never leaving his, "but I want all of it, Y/N." Her voice was filled with a mix of need and challenge, and he knew she was ready to take him completely.

Heejin expresses her readiness, and Y/N gently penetrates her, both of them feeling the intense sensation of her first time with a man. His size overwhelms her initially, but she remains eager and determined to experience everything with him.

With a groan that was almost a growl, Y/N pushed the last of his length into her, feeling her body stretch and yield to his invasion. He held still for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust to the sensation. He could feel her pussy clench around him, her muscles tightening and releasing in a silent plea for more. "You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Fuck, you're so big," Heejin gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt herself stretched to the limit. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure and pain through her body, a heady mix that had her clinging to him tightly. His grip on her hips was firm, guiding her movements as he began to pick up the pace.

"I'm cumming," she panted, her nails digging into his skin as she felt the familiar tension building. "I'm going to squirt again." The words were barely a whisper, but they had the desired effect. Y/N groaned, his strokes becoming more erratic as he felt her pussy begin to pulse around him. He could feel the warmth of her juices coating his cock, the sensation driving him closer to the edge.

Y/N and Heejin engage in passionate sex, with him filling her completely. Despite the initial pain, she finds pleasure in the act, prompting her to squirt again. This response intensifies his desire, leading to a climax.

Heejin's eyes flew open, her pupils dilated with lust as she watched him lose control. The power she had over him was intoxicating, and she pushed back with renewed vigor, her hips rising to meet his with each powerful thrust. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the first spasm, her pussy tightening around his cock. "Cum for me, Heejin," he growled, his voice deep and demanding.

The words were like a trigger, and she let go, her body convulsing in a powerful orgasm that had her screaming out his name. She felt the warmth of her juices flood around him, the sensation of his cock pulsing inside her setting off another wave of pleasure.

"Good girl," Y/N murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he increased his pace. He didn't wait for Heejin's orgasm to end; instead, he used it to fuel his own, pushing into her harder and faster with each stroke.

Heejin could feel another climax building, her pussy spasming around his cock as she continued to squirt. The sensation was overwhelming, a never-ending crescendo of pleasure that had her panting and whimpering. Y/N's eyes never left hers, his gaze locked onto hers as if he was trying to absorb every ounce of her passion.

Heejin's second orgasm is triggered by Y/N's praise, leading to more intense sexual activity. Her squirting enhances his experience, pushing him closer to his own climax as they maintain deep, penetrative eye contact throughout.

"I'm going to cum, Heejin," he finally said, his voice tight with the effort of holding back. Heejin could see the strain in his face, the way his muscles stood out as he held himself above her, his body taut with tension. She felt a thrill at the knowledge that she had brought him to this point, that she had the power to make him lose control.

"Cum inside me," she whispered, the words a breathy plea that seemed to echo through the quiet afternoon air. "I brought the pill," she reminded him, her voice filled with a mix of urgency and need.

Y/N's eyes snapped to hers, his pupils dilated with desire. He knew she was on birth control, but the thought of coming inside her, of marking her in that most intimate of ways, was too tempting to resist. He nodded, his jaw clenched as he pushed into her one final time, his cock pulsing with the force of his release.

Heejin felt the warmth of his cum fill her, a sensation that was at once strange and exhilarating. Her own orgasm seemed to go on forever, her pussy contracting around him as he emptied himself into her. They stayed like that for a moment, locked in their passionate embrace, the world outside the villa fading away.

As Y/N reaches the brink of his climax, Heejin whispers for him to cum inside her. He succumbs to the temptation, filling her as she experiences a prolonged orgasm. The intimacy of the moment connects them deeply.

As they both began to come down from their peak, Y/N leaned in to kiss her, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was as possessive as it was tender. His cock remained buried deep inside her, the evidence of their union mingling with her own juices. Heejin kissed him back, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

Slowly, Y/N pulled out, his cock slipping from her with a wet sound that made her shiver.

Heejin's pussy continued to spasm, releasing more of her juices onto the tile. She looked down in amazement as she felt a gush of liquid leave her, her body seemingly unable to contain the intensity of the orgasm that had just taken over her. "Wow," she murmured, her voice filled with wonder.

Y/N chuckled, a mix of amazement and satisfaction in the sound. "You're incredible," he said, his voice low and gruff. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his tongue tasting himself on her lips. He could feel her squirting again, her body reacting to the sudden emptiness.

When they broke the kiss, Heejin leaned back into his embrace, her body boneless and pliant. He wrapped his arms around her, his cock still semi-hard against her stomach, and they stood there, panting and sated, for a moment. The sound of their breathing and the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the pool filled the silence.

"That was..." she began, but her voice trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the intensity of what they had just shared.

After climaxing, Heejin and Y/N share a deep, passionate kiss. Her pussy continues to spasm, releasing more fluid, prompting Y/N's amazement. They embrace, with Heejin at a loss for words to express her feelings. The serene atmosphere of the poolside is a stark contrast to their intense sexual encounter.

"Amazon," Y/N said, filling in the blank for her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chest pressing into her back as they both took a moment to catch their breaths. Heejin leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop her, his cock still semi-erect and sticky against her skin.

They stood there for a long moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the pool. The coolness of the tiles beneath them was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies, and Heejin could feel the sweat beginning to dry on her skin.

Heejin's heart was racing, her thoughts a jumbled mess of emotions and sensations. She had never felt so alive, so connected to another person before. The way Y/N had made love to her, with such passion and tenderness, had left her feeling cherished and desired in a way she had never experienced.

Y/N kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin gently as he held her tight. "You're something else," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that."

Heejin shivered, her pussy clenching around the emptiness where his cock had just been. The sensation sent a fresh wave of arousal through her body, making her want him again. She turned in his arms, her hands sliding up his chest as she looked into his eyes.

Y/N could see the desire in her gaze, the unspoken request that he continue to explore her body. He smirked, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple, watching as she inhaled sharply. "Looks like someone enjoyed herself," he said, his voice a low tease that had her cheeks flushing once more.

Heejin didn't respond, instead leaning into his touch as he began to play with her sensitive peak. His other hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit and beginning to rub it in slow circles. The feeling was exquisite, the gentle pressure making her squirt again and again. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to keep quiet, not wanting to break the spell that had fallen over them.

Y/N chuckled, his breath warm against her neck as he kissed her gently. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "It's like your body was made for this." His thumb flicked her clit, sending another spasm of pleasure through her. Heejin's legs began to shake, her orgasms coming closer together as he worked his magic.

Her moans grew louder, despite her efforts to remain silent, and Y/N took it as a challenge. He pinched her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. His other hand never stopped moving, his fingers sliding easily through her wetness as she grew more and more aroused.

Heejin felt like she was on the brink of something incredible, her body taut with the need for release. She clung to him, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to get closer, to feel more. Y/N's chuckles grew into moans of his own, his cock growing hard once again as he felt her pussy contract around his fingers.

With one final, firm pinch, Heejin's body gave in, her pussy spasming as she came, squirting all over his hand. He held her tightly, his own arousal evident in his grip as he watched her ride out the waves of pleasure. When she finally went limp in his arms, he kissed her forehead, his eyes shining with affection and lust.

"You're a natural," he said, his voice a soft whisper against her skin. "But I'm not done with you yet." He scooped her up and carried her to a lounge chair by the poolside, laying her down gently. Heejin looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and anticipation.

Without a word, Y/N positioned himself between her legs and sank into her again, their bodies slippery with water and cum. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the air, punctuated by their ragged breaths and gasps of pleasure. Heejin's body was already primed for another round, and she eagerly welcomed him back inside.

Their movements grew more frantic as they lost themselves in the rhythm of their bodies, their kisses deep and all-consuming. Y/N's hand found her clit once more, his thumb flicking it with expert precision. She moaned into his mouth, her body arching off the chair as she came again, her juices mixing with the pool water beneath them.

They didn't stop there. Y/N picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her into the villa. They explored each room with an unbridled passion, leaving a trail of wetness and stickiness in their wake. On the plush carpet in the living room, against the cold marble of the kitchen counter, and even in the soft embrace of the velvet curtains in the study, they fucked with an urgency that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

Their lovemaking was raw and uninhibited, each room revealing new ways to satisfy their insatiable hunger for each other. In the bedroom, Y/N bent Heejin over the bed, her ass in the air as he pounded into her from behind. She could feel his sperm coating her insides, mixing with her squirt as he filled her up once again.

The scent of sex filled the air, a musky perfume that seemed to cling to every surface. The villa was no longer a serene retreat but a playground for their desires, each room holding a new adventure. In the shower, the hot water cascaded over their bodies as he took her from behind, her moans echoing off the tiles as she came yet again.

Their bodies were a tapestry of sensations, a blend of pleasure and pain that only served to heighten their arousal. The sound of their passion filled the air, a symphony of flesh slapping together and the sweet cries of release. They didn't care if they were heard; they were lost in their own world, a world where only they and their insatiable desires mattered.

As they moved from room to room, their bodies grew sticky with a mix of sweat and cum. They were a blur of motion, a dance of lust that knew no bounds. Heejin felt a thrill with every new position, every new sensation that Y/N introduced her to.

In the library, he bent her over a dusty bookshelf, the scent of old leather and paper mixing with the musk of their desire. Heejin's moans grew louder as he pounded into her from behind, the books rattling with each thrust. Her palms pressed against the cool wood, her legs trembling as she tried to keep herself steady. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes raking over her body as he watched his cock disappear and reappear with each stroke.

They moved to the dining room next, the long mahogany table serving as their stage. Heejin lay on her back, her legs spread wide as Y/N feasted on her pussy, his tongue delving into her folds with a hunger that surprised even her. She squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his tongue against her clit making her squirt once more. He lapped it up greedily, his eyes never leaving hers as he brought her to another shattering orgasm.

In the media room, with the glow of the giant TV screen casting an eerie light over their naked bodies, Heejin found herself straddling him on the plush couch. She rode him with an abandon she never knew she had, her tits bouncing with each bounce as she took him deep. The leather was sticky with their combined fluids, and the sound of their bodies coming together was almost obscene in the otherwise silent room.

Y/N's fingers dug into her hips as he watched her ride him, his cock disappearing into her tight pussy. He could feel her muscles tightening around him, the anticipation of her climax building with each passing second. "I want to feel you come around my cock," he said, his voice gruff with need. Heejin nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she worked herself closer to the edge.

When it finally hit, it was like a lightning bolt, her pussy clenching around him as she screamed out her pleasure. He followed her over, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his hot seed. They collapsed onto the couch, their bodies slick with sweat and cum, their hearts racing with the intensity of their passion.

For a moment, they lay there, panting and spent, the sound of their breathing the only thing breaking the silence. But it wasn't long before they were on the move again, their bodies craving more, the thrill of exploration and discovery driving them from one room to the next.

In the kitchen, they fucked standing up, the cold marble of the island countertop sending a delicious shiver through Heejin's body as Y/N pounded into her from behind. She could see their reflection in the gleaming stainless steel appliances, their bodies moving in a carnally beautiful ballet of lust. The smell of sex mingled with the faint scent of the leftover lunch, a heady combination that only served to drive them closer to the edge.

They stumbled into the gym, the sound of their footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. Y/N bent her over the treadmill, her hands grasping the handles as he took her from behind once more. The machine whirred to life under their combined weight, adding an unexpected rhythm to their lovemaking. Heejin's breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples grazing the cool metal, sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, each stroke bringing them closer to the brink of ecstasy. "I'm going to cum," she panted, her voice filled with a desperation that was almost painful.

"Do it," he growled, his own orgasm building. "Let me feel you come all over me."

With a scream that echoed through the cavernous space, Heejin's body tensed, her pussy clamping down around his cock as she squirted all over the gleaming black rubber. Y/N groaned, the feeling of her release pushing him over the edge. He came hard, filling her once again, their combined fluids spilling onto the treadmill's belt.

They staggered out of the gym, their legs unsteady as they moved through the villa.

"The jacuzzi," Heejin suggested, her voice low and needy. Y/N nodded, his eyes dark with desire as they made their way to the outdoor terrace. The water was steaming, the jets bubbling invitingly, and they slid into it with sighs of relief. The warmth of the water was a balm to their overheated skin, and they cuddled together, their limbs entwined.

The jets massaged their bodies, the water swirling around them as they kissed lazily. The tension that had built up over the last few hours began to melt away, their passion giving way to a gentle affection that was just as potent. Y/N reached down, his hand finding Heejin's clit, and began to rub it gently. She moaned into his mouth, her body responding immediately to his touch.

Their lovemaking in the jacuzzi was slower, more deliberate. They took their time, savoring each sensation, each touch. The warmth of the water made them feel as if they were floating, their movements languid and sensuous. Y/N slid into her, her pussy clenching around him as if it had been made for him. Heejin's eyes rolled back in her head, her body going limp with pleasure.

They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, their bodies fitting together perfectly. The water sloshed around them as they kissed and touched, their cries of pleasure muffled by the steady hum of the jets. The moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over their entwined forms. It was a moment out of a dream, a perfect culmination to their afternoon of exploration.

Finally, they reached their peak, their bodies shaking with the intensity of their orgasms. Heejin's pussy clamped down around Y/N's cock, milking him dry as he filled her with his cum. They stayed like that for a moment, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, their hearts racing in time with the beat of their shared passion.

After they had cleaned themselves off in the shower, they moved to the bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the plush comforter. Y/N pulled Heejin into his arms, their bodies still sticky with cum and sweat. They lay there, their breathing gradually slowing as the afterglow of their lovemaking washed over them.

Heejin felt a sense of belonging, a warmth that spread through her chest as she nestled into the crook of his neck. She had never felt so connected to someone, so seen and understood. Y/N's arms tightened around her, his breaths growing deep and even as he drifted off to sleep.

Her heart pounding in her chest, she gathered her courage and whispered the words that had been playing on her mind since their first kiss. "Y/N," she began, her voice barely a murmur. He stirred slightly, his grip on her waist loosening as he turned to face her. "Before this," she swallowed hard, "I was a lesbian. I only knew the touch of toys, never a real cock."

His eyes searched hers, a mix of curiosity and something deeper, something that made her stomach flip-flop. "This was my first time with a man," she confessed, her voice shaking with emotion. "And I'm so grateful it was you. You gave me an experience that was... beyond anything I could have imagined."

Y/N's gaze softened, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her hip. "And I'm grateful for you, Heejin," he said, his voice thick with sincerity. "You're so beautiful, so responsive. I've never felt anything like this before." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "And you don't have to change for me. I'm just happy to be a part of your journey."

Her heart swelled with affection for him, and she knew she had made the right decision. She had found something in him that she had never felt before, something that made her question the boundaries she had set for herself. "You're the first cock to ever enter me," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "And you've given me so much pleasure. I don't think I could ever go back to just being with women now."

Y/N's eyes lit up with a fierce possessiveness that made her pussy throb once again. "So be my girl, Heejin," he said, his voice low and commanding. "You're already craving for my cock, aren't you?" His hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit and giving it a firm squeeze. Heejin gasped, her body arching into his touch.

He leaned in, his mouth capturing hers in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue danced with hers, tasting the sweetness of their combined release. "I'll make sure you're always satisfied," he murmured against her lips. "My cock is yours whenever you need it."

With those words, Heejin felt something inside her shift. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew that she wanted Y/N to be a part of it. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes," she breathed. "I'll be your girl."

Y/N's smile was triumphant, his eyes gleaming with lust. He rolled her onto her back, his cock already hardening again. "Good," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Because I'm not done with you yet." He positioned himself between her legs, his cock sliding into her once more.

This time, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness. They moved together with an ease that belied their newness to one another, their bodies speaking a language that needed no words. Heejin's hips rose to meet his, her pussy eager to be filled once again.

Their lovemaking was a declaration, a promise of what was to come. They explored each other's bodies with a ravenous hunger, each touch and kiss a vow to never let go. The room was filled with their passionate cries, a symphony of love and lust that seemed to resonate through the very air.

As they reached their climax, their bodies shuddering with the force of their shared pleasure, Heejin knew that she had made the right choice. With Y/N, she had found a new world of sensations, a place where she could truly be herself.

And as she felt his warmth fill her up once more, she realized that she was no longer just a lesbian. She was a woman in love, a woman who knew the true power of sexual exploration and the beauty of letting go of her preconceived notions. She was a woman who craved the touch of a man, who craved Y/N's cock, and who was ready to face whatever the future had in store for them.

They fucked into the night, their bodies a tapestry of pleasure and pain, each orgasm more intense than the last. When the sun finally began to peek over the horizon, their bodies exhausted, they collapsed onto the bed, their limbs tangled together.

Y/N's chest rose and fell with each deep breath, his arms tight around her as she lay sprawled across him. He could feel her heart racing, matching the rhythm of his own. The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady aroma that seemed to cling to every surface.

Heejin's eyes fluttered closed, her body finally succumbing to the exhaustion that had been building with each orgasm. She felt boneless, her muscles relaxing into the softness of the bed. The warmth of Y/N's body was comforting, his skin sticky with their combined fluids.

As she drifted in and out of sleep, she felt his movements beside her. Y/N was already awake, his hand sliding over her body in a gentle caress. She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her, his expression a mix of concern and desire. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

"I can't move," she admitted with a sleepy smile. "My body feels so heavy."

Y/N chuckled, his hand tracing the curve of her waist. "You're just overwhelmed with pleasure." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, his laughter a warm rumble against her skin.

#heejin smut #loona smut #kpop smut

719 notes · View notes

ikeuverse · 6 days ago

Text

detour plans | pjs

pairing: mafiaboss!jay x mobster's daughter fem!reader genres: angst, almost nothing fluff, smut wc: 9.2k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : swearing, description of not-so-explicit fights. mention of crimes, robberies. mention of blood, weapons. rivalry between mafias, kidnapping, bohr is yn's last name. mention of themes such as prostitution (but i'll try not to describe so much about it, but if i do, i'll put it in the warnings). lmk if i missed anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : jongseong wanted to avenge his father's death and his disrespect for the patriarch's bed, and the best plan he could think of was to take revenge and kidnap the daughter of his greatest rival. he just didn't realize that his plans would take a different path, one he had never thought of.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : joining my baby's request @hoonprksung. i wanted to make the story into a single part, but i can't. my mind flies away and i always end up writing more than i should, so... welcome to the first part (i can't call it a synopsis, can i?). i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 part 2 | masterlist ꒱

“So, did you do what I asked?” Jongseong’s voice echoed throughout the room, making the boys stop everything they were doing to pay attention to the man who had just arrived.

He commanded respect not only for his title as the boss of that mafia but also for the way he behaved in front of people. Jongseong was respected for his tone of voice, and for how he could deal with situations the same way his father did when he was alive. Maybe with a little less empathy since it was rare to see a small smile or even a second chance in the boy’s eyes.

“We did, boss” Heeseung replied in a sarcastic tone, raising one of his eyebrows as he wiped the only drop of sweat from his temple that was about to run down.

Jongseong let his rigid posture falter a little, rolling his eyes as he approached his best friend. Calling him boss was a way of bothering him even though he was Park's right-hand man in everything he did in that place, in the middle of that world he was introduced to without having the chance to choose whether he wanted to stay or not.

Heeseung welcomed him because that was how it was with him too. The Lee family was allied with the Park family, so growing up with Jongseong hadn't been a choice, but staying and making him practically a brother was the best choice he made in life even more so because Park decided to stay that he allowed Heeseung to be the only one there.

“Then I want you to report it, please” he said. “Or do you want me to bring Charlotte and Hunter here to threaten them into talking?” with the look of fear on his men's faces – even though Heeseung was the only one trying to hide it – Jongseong smiled.

The mention of the two Park mafia dogs was synonymous with respect and empowerment. Charlotte was a wolf-dog with a physical build that none of them had seen before. Defined muscles and very well-groomed caramel and white fur, while Hunter was a Doberman who, standing up, was almost as tall as Heeseung. Fast as a rocket and as brave as Jongseong. The owner's personality, anyone who knew him would answer.

“You can let your children rest, they worked hard today” Sunghoon sighed, a little more tired than usual. He sat in the chair in front of him and took a deep breath, running his hand through the sweaty strands as he pulled out the small notebook that was on the table in front of him.

Showing images from the security cameras for Chief Park to analyze every step of that day.

Jongseong approached with slow, careful steps until he leaned one of his hands next to Sunghoon, looking at the screen he had just opened.

The time indicated eleven in the morning, the estimated time he asked his men to move on that mission. A little too early for what they were all used to, but if it had been a little later, there might not have been enough time to do what he had in mind.

As the footage played, Jongseong managed to see the moment Heeseung entered that restaurant, wearing elegant clothes, but not as conspicuous as anyone could see. He sat down next to the table of that day's target, alternating his gaze between the seated figure and the cell phone in his hands.

The footage remained still for several seconds until the person stood up, and walked towards the bathroom. And it was at that moment that Jongseong's heart beat a little faster. He knew he knew that his best friend would not hesitate when he stood up and walked behind. Not long after, the footage was turned off without showing that he had reached his destination or done what had been proposed.

“Heeseung” Jongseong called. His eyes were still glazed over in the dark reflection of the computer screen, showing only him and Sunghoon at that moment. He saw the boy exchange a quick second of glances with him, before turning and facing the others present there “What happened after that?”

“Riki cut the camera feed so I wouldn’t get caught,” he leaned back on the table, taking a deep breath. “She was a pain, man.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe her dad trained her on how to react to a kidnapping,” it was Sunghoon’s turn to answer, closing the laptop screen and getting up from his chair. “Hee and I almost couldn’t get her to sleep and put her in the car.”

It was going to be difficult. Jongseong knew that when he decided he would have to kidnap the daughter of his biggest rival in the mafia world. He was aware of how much the plan, planned for two whole months, could go wrong if they didn’t do things meticulously.

“Were you followed?” he asked.

“No car, no sign” Sunghoon said once more. “We had Jake’s cover along with Keeho and we took a completely different route to get to the mansion. We weren’t followed.”

Great, he thought to himself. He was proud of how well he had trained his men, some even considering them his friends besides Heeseung, who was practically his brother. Even so, Jongseong was still a little apprehensive because things had changed at the last minute.

Kidnapping the daughter of a mafia boss would never be easy, especially for someone who had reasons to hate the Park family. He knew that revenge was not easy, but Jongseong did not want to let what his father had tried to do all his life go unpunished.

The patriarch wanted to kill Stephen Bohr, from the Bohr mafia family. He was the worst in that circle, denouncing his rivals, making them fall one by one as if they were not part of that scheme. If things didn't work out the way he wanted, boom. It was the end for that family that had gone head to head with him.

Jongseong felt his blood boil just remembering Bohr's disrespect and disloyalty. How he became his father's rival, just because he didn't want to be part of the worst schemes involving shady things. He felt like vomiting just remembering vague mentions of prostitution involving minors and even kidnappings of girls who were going to school and were never seen again.

That was the fetish of the most disgusting and grotesque man Jongseong had the displeasure of knowing. That's why he so easily became a rival of the Park family and many others, but because of his influence, no one dared to do anything, for fear of the empire falling and being denounced.

But Park didn't. He wanted to see Bohr crumble. He wanted that disgusting, disgusting and rude man to be hit in the worst possible way, for everything he had done that went beyond what Jongseong's family believed and followed.

It wasn't normal to be part of the mafia, it wasn't a clean job, but many things could be spared and he knew that Stephen didn't care about any of that. He just needed something that could hit him as hard as it had hit him when he heard that news, when he realized how much Bohr wanted to bring down his father for not accepting to invest millions in that disgusting scheme, almost costing his life twice.

“Where did you put her?” he asked after a very contemplative moment, analyzing everything that had happened until he reached the present moment.

“In the dark room, she was the only one available” Heeseung answered “She wasn't awake the last time we went to check on her.”

“Okay, I'll go see her.”

“Are you sure?” Sunghoon asked, looking deeply at Jongseong. Going to see her could be the moment you could wake up and finally recognize him. Bohr must have said about the Park family, for sure. Or omitted much of the scheme since her father saw her as an untouched princess. The immaculate one of the family that no one had the right to get close to.

That's why Jongseong planned to kidnap you in the first place because regardless of your father's dirty and disgusting thoughts, he treated you as if you were the only woman to be respected in the universe. Maybe Bohr's Achilles heel, so it was the hardest thing he had tried to do since he took over the leadership of the Park mafia after his father passed away.

There was no way he could get close to you given all the security and how your father kept you, but no one was prepared to accompany you to a simple lunch on a random Wednesday, at a fancy restaurant that you usually went to alone because no one knew that place.

Only Jongseong, after observing you for months, sees your routine like a disgusting stalker would. But he just wanted to be sure what your routine was and at what times you would be less protected so he could act, put the plan into action, and make your father suffer just like he had done to so many other people.

"What if she recognizes you?" Heeseung asked.

“I’ll introduce myself properly and tell you why I did this” he replied, stepping away from the table and walking towards the door of that room. But before leaving, he turned to the two boys who were still there. “And in the worst-case scenario, if she doesn’t behave, Hunter and Charlotte will have a feast for dinner tonight.”

He gave a small smile before leaving, leaving a chill running down Heeseung and Sunghoon’s spine. Not because the threat was empty and untouchable, but because the two of them knew what Park Jongseong was capable of doing.

The only light in that room was the dim bulb of the small rusty chandelier, casting a shadow on any silhouette that stood against it.

Your head was throbbing, as if you had been run over five times, back and forth. Your entire body was hurting, and what was more, you felt afraid. Like never before in your life.

Living in the environment your father chose to live in had consequences, and one of them was that you were always alert, far from danger, and consequently, afraid. Because the next day was uncertain, or even if it would come. There was no way to predict it. One day you would be sleeping in your warm, cozy bed, and the next you wouldn't even know if you would be there to tell the story. Especially since you were the daughter of a mafia boss.

Your years of life were made up of staying away from danger, learning to defend yourself, and trying to identify any hint of wrongdoing around you. Knowing who approached you willingly or out of interest, when you could leave the house, and who you would be with. Everything around you was controlled by your father and the men who worked for him. But unfortunately that morning it hadn't been that way.

You just wanted to have lunch at the best restaurant in the area, after all, it was fancy without attracting too much attention and you knew you could go there without any security because no one knew you were a regular there.

Well… That's what you thought until the last time.

Your father had many enemies in this circle, many people who would give anything to get their hands on him… But you? At least you were seen as often as he was. You hadn't even been mentioned in any meeting, only people close enough to him knew about the existence of Stephen Bohr's only daughter.

But a lot of things weren't adding up there, because someone knew about your existence. Someone knew who your father was and, even worse, the restaurant you frequented and when you frequented it. So they were keeping an eye on you, but for how long? And why?

The creaking of the door in the background made you wake up, open your eyes, and curl up a little more wherever you were. What you had learned was that, in that situation, you should stay still and try to identify a voice, if someone was alone or if they were going to talk while you pretended to still be asleep. But you had been through so much in the last few hours that everything you had learned had gone down the drain.

Your back quickly found the wall to support yourself, you looked around noticing that you were sitting on an old and worn mattress, so thin that you could almost feel the floor. Your eyes quickly scanned the room until stopping at the tall silhouette that had entered at that moment.

“How wonderful, you're awake!" an imposing, deep, and serious voice was being directed at you. A wave of shivers ran through your body as the man slowly approached. You didn't know if you were still afraid or anxious to see who was there.

The short walk to where you were wasn't long, but he had made sure to take as long as possible until the dim light in the room reached your entire body and face, thus revealing who was behind it.

“I'm glad to meet you in person, Miss Bohr” he smiled at you.

A smile that made your entire body freeze. It was cold, calculating, and devoid of any good feeling. You shrank a little more, noticing the restriction of your feet that, when your eyes ran over the area, you noticed they were tied.

"What do you want?” your throat burned as you asked, you had certainly not used your voice for so long. The last time you remember speaking or asserting your voice was when you felt large, strong hands grabbing you in the restaurant. You screamed, even with something covering your mouth as you were taken out of the establishment through the back door.

The man laughed darkly, even more than his previous smile. Walking a little further, he lowered himself to your body height, almost sitting on the floor with you.

“I want to make your father’s life hell” he widened his smile a little more after the startled reaction you had. It seemed that any negative response to what he said or did fed that bad ego a little more.

“I—” you stuttered, trying to find words that could help you in some way. How could you save yourself from that?

“You’re his only weak point, let’s face it” The man forced one of his knees to the floor, while the other leg was bent to balance his body a little more in that position “And since your father got involved in a dirty scheme and disrespected my father’s deathbed, I need to make him pay.”

“By kidnapping me?” Your voice came out shaky, your throat burning again as a ball of saliva formed in your mouth with the urge to cry when your eyes began to burn. “What do I have to do with what my father did?”

“I hope nothing” He didn’t take his eyes off you, even though he wasn’t making any movement. It seemed like that man wanted to study every little part of you to have some advantage because you didn’t know how long you could be stuck there. “But this is the only way to make him pay for what he did.”

“And what did he do?”

You noticed how his jaw – well-defined and sharp – twitched at your question. So you had no idea of the rottenness your father had gotten himself into beyond what he was showing you.

Jongseong wondered how much Stephen had told you if he knew anything at all. Meanwhile, your bright eyes almost made him falter. Because he only had you as the weak point of the man he wanted to take down, this was the only way to make him pay for everything wrong.

“If he didn’t tell you, do you think I should do it? Under these conditions?” he asked. For the first time, he looked away from your face to focus on any corner of the dimly lit room.

At that moment, your vision became blurred because you didn’t know if you were crying out of fear or because your father was hiding much more than you knew. Leading to them kidnapping you because of it. The man didn’t even notice that you let a few tears escape, or if he did, he didn’t comment out loud much less showed any regret for what he had done.

“I— Please tell me what my father did” you sobbed softly, begging for who knows what, you just wanted to know “I won’t tell him anything if I find out.”

“I know you won’t tell anything.” That gaze stared at you again, coldly and fixedly. Causing a shiver all over your body as he became serious for the first time, but the glow in his eyes was different from yours. “Otherwise I’ll have to silence you.”

“Killing me?” came out before you could even think to say it. He denied it vehemently, sighing slowly.

“Giving one part as a gift to your father and the other to Charlotte and Hunter.”

“And who are Charlotte and Hunter?” you asked, almost regretting it when you saw a glimpse of approach. An almost subtle movement on his part as he leaned in a little, a mischievous smile threatening to appear on those small, well-shaped lips.

Your eyes returned to his eyes when you saw him open his mouth to respond, but quickly shut up when fierce barking was heard a little further away, showing that those animals were approaching.

“They will be our greatest companions in the coming times,” he replied. “Treat them well or you will be dinner.”

What you thought would be just a few days locked up in that poorly lit place, that your father would soon find a way to call one of his men to get you out of there… Turned into weeks. Your only human interaction was with the person who came to bring you meals with a simple wave and your thanks in return.

That man with the devilish features and the darkest smile you had ever seen hadn't come to see you for many days. Not that you were counting on that, but you honestly thought you would be dog food after the first – and only – time you two had seen each other. If he wasn't there to scare you, then had he gone after your father?

And speaking of the older man, you hadn't even heard about him, listened to his voice. Nothing about your father was mentioned when anyone came in there. It seemed like the men weren't allowed to talk to you, or they had nothing to talk about since you didn't speak to any of them.

But what if your father had given up looking for you? Or he had no clue where you were? Because the guy who took you there seemed very smart and younger than anyone you'd ever seen in that environment. Not that you had contact with many people, but you don't remember someone like him working with things like that.

The sound of the door locks made you stop analyzing the whole situation, stop thinking about the reasons and circumstances, and focus on who was coming in. The precise steps towards you as the boy brings a tray with things that you would take a while to eat. He placed it on the rusty table a little further away from the mattress you were on, the thud against the iron making your body shrink a little.

As soon as he put the object down, he approached you slowly until you finally recognized him. It was the dark-haired man from the first time he was there. He looked even more serious, his face completely wrinkled as he ran one of his hands over his sharp jaw.

“Your father is an idiot,” he said suddenly, taking you by surprise with the slightly louder tone that echoed throughout the room. “He thinks he can corner my friends, the men who work for me, and still get away with it.”

“You—” your eyes suddenly burned, and your chest began to hurt at the thought that that man could have done something to your father. “Did you do something to him?”

“Not yet” his gaze made you more and more afraid, but this time you wanted to try to find some other feeling other than something bad. You wanted to understand the real reason why he hated your father so much.

He didn't wait for you to give any response after that, so he quickly approached the food tray to pick up the plate that had been prepared and the glass of juice. He bent down again right in front of you to hand you the meal.

Jongseong didn't even roll his eyes anymore when you refused to eat, remembering the many untouched meals he received back after his friends came to you to feed you.

“Eat” he practically ordered, gently pushing – or at least trying to – the plate onto the small mattress, trying not to knock anything over.

“No, I—” you cringed a little more “You did something to my father and now you're feeding me… This could be poisoned and—”

“I've been feeding you for weeks, Bohr” he finally rolled his eyes, snorting at your attitude at that moment “If I was going to poison you, I would have done it already.”

“But today is the second time you've come to see me since you kidnapped me.”

“Oh, so daddy’s little girl noticed my absence?” He seemed a little bolder and more convinced now. It was your turn to roll your eyes, even though fear was coursing through every drop of your blood.

“Please, just tell me what you did to my father,” you begged, not even caring if he would listen to you or not. Trying could be worth it while he was there.

“Only if you eat,” he replied. “I want to have the pleasure of killing you if the time comes, I don’t want you to starve to death before then.”

You prayed mentally that your stomach wouldn’t give you away at that moment, trying to appear as strong as possible in the face of that situation. It wasn’t like you had gone without food all that time, but eating as little food as possible from a completely unknown place was the best thing to do.

Your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you, he also held your gaze the whole time, as if he was waiting for something to say from you. Some movement, a request. And when it didn't come, Jongseong sighed loudly and reached out to grab the bread that was there. He cut a generous piece with his fingers, placing the largest half on the plate, while the other half, he chewed with a little anger without taking his eyes off you.

“See? No poison, Bohr girl” he was still chewing as he spoke, cleaning the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue before feeling a slight numbness in his legs from the position he was in. Then he decided to sit in front of you on the hard, cold floor “Now eat if you want to know things about your father.”

You had never seen anyone as crazy as Stephen Bohr, but that man in front of you made everything fall apart as you watched him. The way he carried himself, the way he talked about his father, and even when he talked to you in the few days he showed up there. Everything was strange.

It didn't seem like a deal made between the two of you, but if he had fulfilled his part by showing that he didn't want to poison you with the food he offered, you could give in a little and eat. Both because you were very hungry and also because you wanted to know about your father. Weeks without news and without knowing if he was that worried, so that man should say something.

Your eyes looked away for a few seconds to look at the half-eaten snack, taking that part and slowly bringing it to your lips. The first bite felt surreal inside your mouth and the mix of flavors was incredible.

“Did you like it?” he asked with a hint of compassion that bordered almost on pride when you took the second bite and almost moaned at how good it was. Your eyes lit up at that and when you took the third bite, you nodded positively to him “I made the sandwich, so thank you.”

You stopped chewing for a few seconds, and your eyes widened.

“Do you cook?” It was your turn to speak with your mouth full, apologizing softly and going back to eating.

“I don’t think you want to know about me right now, Miss Bohr” he smiled, for the first time, in a different way than the times you had seen him – even if it had been few.

He seemed to respect your time as he watched you eat your snack, carefully waiting for you to drink the juice and even the sweet biscuit he left.

How kind, it even seemed ironic to think that of someone who had kidnapped you.

After a long time of your first – and complete – meal, he put all the utensils away to return them to the table and sit down again in front of you. It seemed like the mattress was much smaller without any plate to separate you and him, although the boy wasn’t even on the mattress, per se.

Your eyes stared at him with a wordless request, he knew he should tell you even if that wasn't the goal.

Jongseong just wanted to scare Stephen, make him pay for everything, and after your father suffered whatever he deemed necessary, he could let you go.

“Your father gets involved in some very bad things” his look said it was nothing new, after all, he was the head of a mafia. Good things didn't come from there.

“Tell me something I don't know, Mr…”

“Park” he answered, preferring to refer to you only by your last name. It was fair since he knew yours.

“Mr. Park” you repeated, and Jongseong just nodded.

“Do you know the mafia's black market?” the question came out so strange on his tongue, such a bitter taste that, for the first time since you saw him, he seemed shaken. And even more so after you shook your head.

Was it his mission to tell you how it all worked? Was he the one who should ruin the image of everything he hated the most by saying things out loud?

Jongseong sighed loudly, one of his hands running through his hair and then letting it fall to his lap between his legs when, once again, his gaze fixed on you. His expression was severe, his dark eyes reflecting so little of the – almost non-existent – light in that room.

“Sorry to make you hear that, then” was the last light thing he said after starting a conversation and introducing you to a world that you never imagined your father, the one who was supposed to protect you, was a regular consumer of.

At first, Jongseong thought it was a brilliant idea to kidnap Stephen Bohr's daughter and make him pay for all the robberies that happened to the Park family because they didn't want to join him in the mafia's black market.

But why, a week since he told you everything, couldn't your horrified and crying face leave his mind?

The way you vehemently denied every word that came out of Jongseong's mouth, how you held back a scream and cried copiously. Repeating countless times that no, your father wouldn't do that. Girls your age or even younger than you were suffering something you never imagined. Meanwhile, the Park family was robbed of millions because they didn't want to finance such horrible smuggling and trafficking.

Jongseong didn't forget how Stephen wanted to rob his family at all costs, even with his father on the verge of death. He wanted to make that man pay and when the idea of kidnapping the only precious thing in Bohr's life – you – came up, he couldn't turn back. He couldn't deny that it had been something completely insane, considering that you were the same age as almost all the girls your father had lured. But Park wanted to do it to get the stolen money as ransom and then release you back.

He just didn't count on a slight regret starting to set in since he saw your teary eyes for the last time. It was obvious that you would cry, after all, no one would like to know that their father was involved in something as horrible as that. But the way you were crying, how much you held back from sliding down that mattress and asking for a hug when you just needed a friendly shoulder to unload that whole bombshell.

No. He couldn't have compassion for a suffering look and a person who was just a reason why an entire empire could fall.

Jongseong had even forgotten how pleasurable Stephen's agonizing voice on the phone had been, screaming and looking for his daughter. How he swore to go after Park and everyone who worked for him, kill them one by one, and get his daughter back.

But that wouldn't happen. He wouldn't let him. The purpose of all of that was to make that man waste away and return everything he had stolen, but what was stopping him was that discomfort in his chest that he felt every time he thought about you.

There was no reason for Jongseong to be like that, but why did he avoid going back to that room after he told you everything? Why did he send all his friends instead of going himself just to see how you were doing?

Besides, did he care about that? Since when did he want to know how you were? That wasn't part of the plan.

“What the hell?" he cursed softly, clenching his hands into fists and punching the table. This woke Charlotte who was lying on the leather sofa, looking at the boy and searching for something that was bothering him “Sorry, I woke you up, didn't I?”

She moved a little, adjusted her body on the sofa, and went back to lie down, but without sleeping. Looking at Jongseong as he heard him sigh loudly.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, Charlie” he looked at the dog in front of him. “Am I worrying or is it just because I’ve never kidnapped a girl?”

The dog threatened to bark, as if to answer him, but knocks on the door quickly interrupted him, which he was grateful for.

“Come in” Jongseong said, motioning for Charlotte not to move. So well trained, waiting for any command if it was necessary to attack.

“Your coffee, you little shit” Heeseung came in with a thermos in his hand, and the other free hand waved towards Charlotte. “Hey girl, your brother is taking a shower downstairs.”

At the word shower, Charlotte grunted a bark and cringed.

“She hates baths just like her father, how is it possible?”

The argument could go on, Jongseong would curse Heeseung and this would go on for long minutes. But the boss knew why his best friend had come there, especially with a thermos of steaming coffee.

“You can start talking” he replied immediately, as soon as Heeseung placed the coffee on the table and sat down next to Charlotte.

He seemed to hesitate a little, a single moment when he looked away from his friend to any corner of the room.

“Stephen almost found us” Heeseung said.

Jongseong stopped drinking his coffee halfway, feeling the bitter and hot liquid tearing down his throat. The feeling could have been uncomfortable if it weren't for the way Heeseung looked at him next.

“What do you mean?”

“That he's bloodshot after his daughter and that he almost killed Sunghoon.”

“What?” he almost shouted, scaring Heeseung and even the bitch who was almost going back to sleep “What the hell are you saying, Heeseung?”

“That he almost found us,” he continued “Sunghoon went to the bar last night and saw Stephen there, they exchanged shots and Hoon ended up getting grazed on the arm.”

“Where is he?”

“He's already been taken care of by your father's doctor and given medication, but I thought it best to leave him on the fourth floor of the mansion,” he explained, watching Jongseong get up from his chair and walk to the door. Following behind without saying much, Heeseung just let his friend guide him to where he had said Sunghoon was.

Everything that involved Jongseong's family was there. Everything he had ever known since he was born was under that roof, and the promise he had made to his father was to honor everything he had built and never to distort the Park family's principles.

When the two stopped at the door to the room that Heeseung had indicated, Jongseong simply opened it without ceremony or introducing himself. Pairs of eyes stared at him at that moment, and he felt a slight anger - accompanied by enormous relief - when he saw Sunghoon's smile.

“You son of a—”

“Just a graze wound, I'm alive” he was still smiling, grumbling loudly as he tried to raise his arm to greet his boss and friend. The dark-haired man approached, waving to the others as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I'm the one who's going to kill you, you idiot” Jongseong whispered, but the entire room could hear “If that happened, then did you exchange gunfire?”

An almost deafening silence was present. Sunghoon closed his eyes for a few seconds, pondering whether he should omit it and say that Stephen was so angry that he tried to hurt him, but he couldn't lie. He knew that Jongseong would end up finding out sooner or later.

So he just nodded, looking at the boy in front of him as he saw him sigh.

“I want to know every single detail of what happened in that bar, and what Bohr said to you before he hurt you.”

After everything Jongseong told you about your father, each day that passed your desire to meet him diminished even more. Maybe it would be better to stay trapped in that place and rot as much as you were wasting away with disgust and disbelief. The man who raised you. The man who, together with your mother, brought you into this world and gave you the best life to date.

You felt like vomiting every time you thought about each thing the boy had said to you almost three weeks ago. You also heard conversations behind the door and the small visits you had when someone brought you food.

One of the times you pretended to be asleep because you had cried a lot hours before and didn't want to be nice to anyone, although your niceness was limited to thanking them for the meals they offered you. But that night you heard very little.

The man who kidnapped you, the owner of that place, was talking to someone else. Hee… Something. You didn't understand, it wasn't important. But your mind recorded a few words.

Your father had attacked some of Jongseong's men at the bar. He was asking about you, but it seemed like he wasn't sure if it was the Park family who was holding you captive. So your father had so many enemies that he didn't even know who had kidnapped you? That was disgusting, and as each day passed, you became even more distrustful. Regardless of whether he was after the head of whoever had done that to you, or was offering a reward to whoever found you, you didn't want to be found.

If that mafia decided to release you one day, you would make sure to move to another country, change your identity, and disappear from the Bohr family's radar and everything that surname carried.

For the umpteenth time the door opened, someone was carrying your meal and you judged it to be breakfast by the dark and strong drink steaming inside a mug. Food wasn't very important to you at that moment, but your throat was yearning for coffee.

“Here you go, Miss Bohr” even though it was the only way everyone addressed you in that place, it was horrible to remember that your last name was known for such atrocity.

The boy in question placed the tray a little closer, waiting for you to come closer as you always did to get something to eat. Your hand reached up to grab just the mug, the warmth of the ceramic against your fingers warming your entire body at that moment.

Your lips slowly met there, drinking the hot and strong liquid and feeling it go down your throat. Your eyes closed, savoring how good it was.

For a moment you saw yourself far from that scene, drinking coffee anywhere other than in a dirty and precarious room, without an unknown boy staring at you and waiting for you to at least take a bite of the toast he had brought. Just to make sure you wouldn’t die of hunger. For a moment you wished you weren’t part of the family you were, or at least, didn’t know what you were now learning.

Would it be good to continue living a lie? Where you believed that your father did nothing wrong except live illegally with things here and there, not recruiting women and running a dirty scheme.

At that moment, many things went through your mind, but one of them surprised you as you took your lips off the mug and said it out loud, unable to control yourself.

“Do you want to help kill my father?”

“Excuse me?” the boy practically choked on the saliva he was almost swallowing, widening his eyes at you while you still held the mug in your hands, but away from your lips.

“I know your boss is going to do something to him, after all, my father stole from his father and did all these bad things and—” you sighed audibly, the boy in front of you sighed along with you, but a little less audibly. You went back to drinking some coffee, staring at his dimly lit face “I want to know if you intend to kill him or kill me first.”

You saw him move for the first time since you had entered that room and brought him your coffee. He took a few steps forward, his eyes fixed on you as you could see how deeply he was thinking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said firmly, and you might even have believed him if it weren’t for your father’s teachings. Something or other was good to get from a family of mafia bosses.

Of course, he knew what you were talking about, and the idea of asking that was crazy. He wouldn’t tell you what the boss was thinking of doing, much less to the daughter of one of his biggest rivals.

“I— I thought—” you were running out of cards, you thought he might give in with the sudden question and the way you hadn’t shown yourself vulnerable. You put the coffee mug back on the tray, shrinking your body a little more before closing your eyes. “Forget it. I just want them to get this over with.”

“And why do you want to know if we want to help kill your father?” he asked. Your eyes looked at him again, and you could see that the boy’s expression was now slightly doubtful, but at the same time, he seemed too calm. He didn’t have a hint of fear, unlike you, who had tried to be strong since you started that conversation.

He was the first boy who had come there to deliver food and who had started talking to you. The others barely answered you or simply cut the subject short and wished you a good meal before leaving, but not this one.

“To be quite honest? I don’t know.” Your eyes began to burn at the idea of helping to kill your father, especially since he was still your father, unfortunately. As the boy lowered himself to stand in front of you and at your sitting height, you felt a tear run down your cheek. A mix of feelings that ran through you and, at the same time, that you wanted to get rid of.

“Do you think we would kill him? Or would it be more pleasurable to make him see you suffer and the Bohr empire fall completely?” He began, “Because what your father did to my best friend and several women was not a very good thing.”

You knew. You wanted to answer that you knew, you wanted to scream and cry, saying that probably your friends who you thought had abandoned you every time they came to your house, had been kidnapped by your father. Who knows where they were now, doing who knows what? While you thought they had grown tired of you and your life, just like your father told you. That no one was an outcast to be your friend. That no woman was at your feet in friendship while you wasted away crying thinking that something was wrong.

The only thing wrong was that your father took advantage of the fact that your friends were close in age to yours, they would be perfect targets for what he did.

Disgust, resentment. Everything you felt at once when you thought about it.

“I think he did something to my friends because I’ve never been able to have a friend again.” Your throat burned, and your eyes were blurry as you tried to decipher whether the man looked at you with pity or anger for seeing someone of the same blood as your father in front of him. You tried to swallow your tears, but it wasn’t enough, it had to come out somehow. “And when your boss told me everything my father did…”

“So little princess Bohr wants to avenge her friends and help the Park mafia kill your father?” He laughed for a long time, or at least it seemed that way to you. Besides, saying it out loud seemed absurd, but in your thoughts, it was becoming more and more likely. It wasn’t something that could be out of reach, especially since you wanted to make him pay now that everything was falling into place in your mind.

“I just— I—”

“Excuse me, I have to get back to work,” he interrupted you, standing up before it was too late to give in to your request – which hadn’t even been made out loud, anyway.

“Wait! Hee…”

He turned around abruptly, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

“Do you know my name? Who the fuck told you my name, Bohr?” He took a few steps towards you, making you shrink even further against the wall – if that was even possible – making your back hurt from the extra pressure.

“I don’t know, I just heard…” you swallowed hard, the crying had already disappeared and given way to fear. The eyes that had previously looked at you with curiosity now looked with anger and something else that you couldn’t even name.

“What did you hear? Tell me!” he shouted.

“Hey!” another shout from the other side of the room, you and the boy looked in the direction quickly “What’s going on here?”

It was boss Park, you would recognize his voice and posture anywhere. Especially because he was the one who had visited you the most in that grotesque place.

Without an answer, the other left so quickly that you didn't even hear what he mumbled before he left. Leaving you and the dark-haired man alone in that room.

He stared at the door that had been opened with force at that moment, and then his eyes soon went to you and scanned everything around you.

“Eat, your coffee is going to get cold.”

That was the only thing he said before leaving the room and closing the door a little more gently than the last one. Leaving you with a million thoughts, a racing heart, and even more desire to cry.

Heeseung felt his head spin. Jongseong's fist landed the umpteenth blow, making the boy stagger back until he sat aggressively in the chair.

“I—”

“Shut up, you piece of shit, I'm not done yet” he approached again, his right hand was already at the perfect angle for the next punch, but the force with which he was stopped made him take a few steps back.

The smoldering look he directed at whoever was responsible for stopping him didn't have much effect, Jaeyun just looked at him with a serious expression, not as rigid as that of his best friend and boss of that mafia.

“Is it over yet?” he tried to seem indifferent to what was happening, almost letting out a loud curse when he saw Heeseung's bloody face.

“I was almost—”

“Killing our best friend? Of course.” Jaeyun laughed sarcastically, a trait he learned over time as he delved deeper into that dark world. If it weren’t for the two boys right in front of him, Sim would no longer be among them.

“You don’t even know what happened. You wouldn’t be acting so normal if you let me talk.”

“Then start talking,” he said.

Sim Jaeyun was the only one who could make Park Jongseong lose his boss's composure and listen to someone. Aside from Park James, his father, he knew that Jaeyun could make him maintain a more appropriate and less executioner posture than what was left after the patriarch was gone.

He saw his best friend on the edge of the ruins and tried his best to bring him back and not make the boy so bad or so bloodthirsty like that. Very few times were they successful, he brought something good out of Jongseong. But most of the time he ended up arriving late with his best friend covered in blood on his hands – literally or not – and that frustrated him.

“Heeseung almost ruined everything” Jongseong sighed, running his hands over his shirt without the intention of cleaning the blood from his friend that had been there “He almost ruined my months-long plan now.”

“How?” Jaeyun sighed, walking over to Heeseung who hadn’t opened his mouth to say a single word since the other arrived there.

“Interacted with Bohr’s daughter” Jongseong continued “I heard almost everything before I arrived.”

And then he stopped talking. It was Jaeyun’s cue to look at Heeseung so he could start saying something.

“I was intrigued by the fact that she asked if we wanted to help kill her father, who talked about her friends.” With some difficulty, Heeseung spoke a few words very slowly. Feeling the corner of his mouth pull back and the metallic taste of blood between his teeth. He closed his eyes, an uncomfortable pain in his jaw making itself felt, but he had to continue. “Jay’s plan is incredible, he wants to avenge Uncle James and that’s the main thing here, we know, but…”

“Heeseung” Jaeyun stopped him as he began to put together the dots of his friend’s imaginary puzzle in front of him.

“What if—”

“You don’t know if that was it, man. We can’t be sure…”

“But I could ask” he continued. “We didn’t know anything about his daughter until then, but—”

“Don’t finish this.”

“Or what? Are you going to beat me up like Jay is doing because I think your sister was friends with Bohr’s daughter and disappeared into all this shit?”

Silence. Jaeyun felt a pang in his chest as he stared at Heeseung as soon as he opened his eyes.

It wasn't the injured boy's fault that he wanted to know about Jaeyun's sister, after all, she was Heeseung's, first love. He wanted as much as Jongseong to get involved and destroy Stephen Bohr. For different reasons, but with a common goal.

Heeseung had no idea that anything could fit, but as soon as you mentioned that all your friendships were disappearing… Then maybe you could have met Sim's sister. Maybe you could have spent the last moments with her in a way that he couldn't. And that made him rekindle something that, for a long time, was no longer there.

Revenge was something he wanted more than anything, and when he heard you with the idea of helping to kill boss Bohr, he couldn't deny it. But he also couldn't control the anger he felt when he heard his name mentioned by someone in his family. You weren't to blame for what your father did or what he became, but Heeseung couldn't blame himself for feeling angry at everything and everyone that came from that family either.

“It wasn't just you who lost her, Heeseung.” Jongseong bit his lower lip, the strength of his teeth biting into the flesh with the urge to cry out of anger, sadness, and injustice. He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. “Emma was Jake's sister, your girlfriend, and my best friend too.”

“Don't talk about her in the past tense, no—”

“Do you think she's still alive?” Jaeyun asked.

Jongseong and Heeseung looked at each other for the first time since all of this had started. Since seeking revenge against the Bohr family had been solely because he had robbed the Park family. No other motive had been mentioned by the son of the late patriarch and – now – mafia boss.

“I don’t know,” Jongseong replied, not feeling confident in his answer and even feeling confident enough to look at his two friends at that moment. “I just want to focus on the robbery against my family, because if I think about Emma…”

“If I think about my sister…” Jaeyun interrupted, “I’ll go down to that room myself and kill Bohr’s daughter.”

“We need her.” Heeseung wanted to accept the offer, kill someone from the family of a man who had only harmed and – possibly – had taken away one of the most important people for the three of them there.

“To send false information to her father? Are you going to tell me which of the two dogs ate Miss Bohr’s pinky?”

“No, not for that” he continued speaking, ignoring Jaeyun’s questions and looking back at Jongseong. His friend looked back at him, holding the look that carried a lot of feeling at that moment. “But I think she can be useful to us.”

“And how would she be useful besides serving as bait to corner her father?” Jongseong was a little uncertain, even though he knew where Heeseung was going with all of this.

He knew what his best friend thought. He knew that he didn't leave anything unanswered much less leave something loose without explanation or conclusion, thinking about it had some purpose for him.

“She seemed very disappointed with everything that happened, you said yourself that she didn't want to eat for a long time after she found out about everything her father did.”

The two remembered the times when Jongseong showed a little compassion for the woman held captive who wouldn't eat after the great disappointment. Her father's mask fell and she discovered the true face of someone who had always raised her and had to be there to protect her. It was the first time that Jaeyun and Heeseung saw their boss worried to the point that he avoided seeing her like that. Looking for some way to make her feel a little more comfortable – even if it was impossible – in the place they were keeping her.

“If we tell her about Emma, ask if they were friends and even tell her what her father did during all this time besides the robberies, she might join us.”

“You want Bohr’s daughter to be our ally to kill her father?” Jaeyun asked, incredulous at his friend’s crazy mind.

“It would be perfect, dude” he sighed, a little less in pain than before “She knows her father’s every move. She knows if he has any hiding places, she knows what he does and doesn’t do” Heeseung got up from the chair, staggered a little, and was supported by Jongseong. With an apologetic look, he felt the strong grip on his friend’s shoulder before straightening up and standing up.

“Do you two think she would be convinced to help us?” Jongseong asked after letting go of Heeseung. He wasn’t confident in that, after all, his initial plan was being completely diverted. But he couldn’t deny that the idea was working out well.

“If we talk a little better and not in that grotesque room, maybe she’ll accept.”

Maybe she’ll accept, or maybe she won’t. There were both possibilities, and Jongseong was starting to freak out internally. He could deny it, go ahead with the plan, and start negotiations. Take someone’s finger and send it by mail, or take photos that could simulate you being in the worst condition, just so your father would feel some kind of fear and threaten whoever was behind it.

But most of boss Park’s thoughts revolved around the possibility that you could be a great help, that you could ally with them and infiltrate your father’s mafia to gather as much information as possible before he recovered everything that was stolen and then take revenge on your father.

Walking slowly to the table, Jongseong felt his body ache. Too much adrenaline and too many mixed feelings in a short time. He just wanted to hug his dogs, take a long bath, and sleep for almost twelve hours if possible. But he had to think fast and act even faster.

As he sat down in his usual leather chair, both pairs of eyes stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response: positive or negative. It didn't matter, they just wanted Jongseong to say something.

A small sigh was heard, the head thrown back on the back of the chair and the dark-haired man's unreadable gaze before the words left his lips.

“Let's talk to her and try to convince her to join us.”

“What if it doesn't work out?” Jaeyun asked, thinking of all the possibilities. Jongseong liked this because he was one of the few men working for the Park family who thought of both possibilities. It was never a matter of just winning or losing. Jaeyun always thought of yes and no.

“If it doesn't work out, we'll have to kill two Bohrs, not just Stephen.”

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4unnyr0se · 1 year ago

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❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | tetsuro kuroo

warnings: timeskip! kuroo, fem! reader, reader is his secretary, riding(?), unprotected sex, rough sex, implied multiple orgasms (f! receiving), reader acts innocent but is actually a slut, implied size kink, kuroo is rich asf argue with the wall

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 904

Sports promotions was an easy job once you knew what you were doing and who you were working with. Kuroo, being a former captain of a powerhouse team, already knew the trade fairly well. His division of volleyball promotions worked closely with people he once had games with, it was always a treat to mess with them over an expensive dinner that his company would pay for. There weren’t many women in that field, so whenever one was hired it caused a stir. Kuroo thought that the stir you were causing was stupid, but that was before he saw your pretty face.

You were behind a desk, typing away at your computer. You looked so innocent, humming a little tune as your tiny fingers typed away. He approached your desk and offered you a smirk, introducing himself. He noticed how you blushed when he looked at you, like a fawn being spotted by a wolf in the forest. Fuck, Kuroo thought that was so fucking hot. But he couldn’t do anything about that, he had too much respect for you. You were just so innocent, how could he defile you?

Turns out, you weren’t as innocent as he thought. Kuroo was mindlessly swiping on Tinder when your profile popped up, displaying your curves that were barely concealed by a little red clubbing dress. ‘Only on here for some fun <3’ was all your bio said, and that made Kuroo practically jump out of his bed. His finger slid right on the phone screen and the two of you matched, causing his cock to throb in his sweatpants. Finally, he had a in.

The harsh cracking of Kuroo’s hand against the supple skin of your ass filled his penthouse apartment, acompanied by the squelching noise of your pussy struggling to take his massive cock deeper. You had barely managed to get the tip inside, using all your strength to hover yourself above his lap. Kuroo leaned against his padded headboard, the same smirk from earlier adorning his face as he watched the lewd display in front of him. You had talked a big game in your earlier messages, so why were you struggling now. Perhaps you had bitten off more than you could chew when you decided to swipe right on his profile. “What, you’re having trouble taking all of me inside you? C’mon now baby, don’t be like that. Getting all shy again?” his words were laced with sarcasm as you shook your head, feeling your quivering legs about to give out. “I-I can take more, promise!”

Kuroo shook his head in disagreement, shifting his hands to they rested on your hips. “You looked so fucking slutty in those photos,” he teased, slamming your hips down further onto his cock. He gave you no time to adjust to his girth of length, breathing in your wanton and painful cries of pleasure and pain. “Gonna fuck you like a slut now, okay princess? Making me do all the work, typical.”

His hands slammed you up and down on his length, using your body like his own personal fleshlight. Your head was thrown back as your eyes focus on the ceiling above you, the chandelier sparking in the candlelight of his bedroom. Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, saliva dripping onto your swollen tits that were so carefully marked with Kuroo’s teeth. Just enough that you could still wear revealing clothes to work, showing the tiniest bit of cleavage.

His cock hit your G-spot perfectly each time, your sobbing cunt pulling him in deeper with each thrust inside of you. “Fuck, you’re fucking milking me baby,” Kuroo groaned, smacking your ass once more. “You want me to fill you up, huh? It that it princess? C’mon now, lemme hear you beg for my cum. Can you be a good little slut and do that, yeah? Don’t keep me waiting.” he punctuated his sentence with an incredible thrust, a wanton moan falling from your bruised lips.

“K-Kuroo! Wan’ your cum, fuck! P-please, please!” you patheically cried out, fingers scrambling for purchase in his mess of black hair. Your moans were so pretty and wet, how could he refuse his adorable little secretary? His release painted your insides with a roar, the warm sensation filling your stomach. He stopped bouncing you on his length, hands falling limp against his sides.

“Fuck,” was all that Kuroo could muster, smiling to himself as you collapsed onto his chest with his cock still nestled deep inside your creamy core. “I never knew you would be such a slut, you know? Thought you were a virgin or something.” he chuckled, kissing the side of your cheek.

“I might as well have been one, you’re fucking insane,” you mumbled against his skin, lifting your face up to look into his golden eyes. Your mascara was running and your hair was a damn mess, but Kuroo thought you had never looked as pretty as you do now. “You gotta give me some mercy next time, okay? Most girls aren’t used to your massive fucking cock.”

“Oh? There’s gonna be a next time?” Kuroo smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes in mock annoyance.

“Hell yeah there’s gonna be a next time, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” you smirked, playfully nipping at the cartilage of his ears.

“I can’t wait.”

#haikyuu smut #timeskip kuroo #tetsuro kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x reader

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lovscb97 · 5 months ago

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railway (b.cc.) ༉‧₊˚.

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ TRACK 001: part of the step out series

synopsis: you didn’t mean to get tied up with your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, but sometimes all you can do is hold on tight for the rough ride ahead of you, even if it means going against all the pre-written rules of friendship.

tags: best friend's ex!bangchan x fem!reader, angst, forbidden romance, mutually toxic relationship, morally grey characters, chan and reader are both kind of awful, mention of other idols (rest of stray kids, stayc, enhypen, etc), oc as chan's ex-girlfriend (aeri), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, use of nicknames (baby, darling, etc), very brief pussy slapping, possessiveness, mild dacryphilia, car sex, fingering, sir kink, squirting, jealousy, slight exhibitionism, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation (bitch, slut, etc), dirty talk, very brief mention of strength kink, mirror sex, breeding kink, creampie, brief choking, slight overstimulation, etc

theme board: www.pin.1003 / song link: prod:b.cc

wc: 7.85k

add. notes: welcome 2 the first course >:] i've offered my insights n analysis on railway alr but delving into the meaning of the song n creating a whole fic based off of it was very intriguing for me esp cus i don't usually write based off of music i listen to. i knew i wanted smth wrong to put out but i don't like infidelity n the usual story on toxic situations is tough to pull of so i decided to go down the more 'scandalous' route of sorts n make chan ur best friend's ex instead :3 there's a pinterest board i made for all these fics which for this one u can find linked above to grasp the aesthetics of it n i'd recommend reading this while listening to railway ofc. as always plz make sure u watch out for the tags n dni if ur a minor. also sidenote but aeri (the oc) is not meant to be seen as giselle from aespa but rather i just used that name bcs it's pretty lol just thought i'd lyk that. either way i hope u all enjoy!

. . .

19:23 PM from: dni!!! Wyd?

you swallow thickly at the sight of the text which lights up your screen, eyes zeroed in on the simple three letters which still hold thousands of words worth of meaning in themselves when combined. if it weren’t for the rubber case at the back, you reckon you would’ve dropped your phone with how instantly sweaty your palms become upon having received the message. the way you’re staring at your app, maybe even enough to bore holes into the words displayed back at you, doesn't go unnoticed either, and you barely manage to pocket the device as quick as you'd pulled it out just in time as your best friend approaches you.

“everything okay? you look kinda pale.” aeri frowns once she’s in front of you, voice laced with concern so sweet that it almost makes bile rise up your throat as you attempt to lean back against jake’s kitchen counter to stabilise yourself. she doesn’t seem to buy the eventual shaky nodding of your head that you offer after realising she’d just asked you something that required an answer, but even if she wants to probe you further, she doesn’t, deciding to immerse you in conversation about something your other friends had told her; another one of her gossip sessions with yoon and jungwon, you presume.

her storytelling fades into background noise at some point, for you can’t ignore the heavy weight of the object tucked away in the back of your skirt pocket, still incessantly burning and buzzing with notifications you know you shouldn’t pay half a mind to. you’re well aware that they’re all most likely from the same person; the one individual you shouldn’t and have no right to indulge and mix with to this day; whose bedsheets you’ve found yourself tangled up in late at night alongside dirty noises slipping past both your lips; the very man who remains as sin personified in the storyline of your current life, and honestly might stay that way for as long as you live.

or in other words, aeri’s ex-boyfriend, chan.

your best friend met chan in her final year of university, bumping into him on chance encounter outside her lecture hall and exchanging textbooks by accident. chan had been all smiles when she’d invited him to lunch as an apology for the mix up, often tagging along with her after that until soon enough, they grew close enough and began seeing each other romantically. he seemed to treat her well for the most part, and you were happy for aeri that she’d found a good man worth her time and effort in the world. she’d drag you with her on their outings one too many times, and you’d gotten to know him from those instances, finding him to be a decent match for her.

unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and the spark between them started dwindling. you’re not sure what exactly happened, only able to recall bits and pieces from what aeri had told you mid-sob on your calls about her previous lover slowly becoming distant nearing the final stages of their relationship, so you’ve always just thought it was a mutual decision to cut ties for the betterment of each other. according to her vividly detailed breakdowns though, chan had been the one to suggest calling it off first, and everything came to a screeching halt three years down the line with much screaming and tears from her side. to an extent, their split did shake up things a little between all your mutual friends, but it also didn’t fully stop everybody from engaging with each other. all this brings you to your current situation— waiting in jake’s apartment for the rest of your friends to arrive for a random party he’d decided to plan on a whim.

“yo, guys!” speak of the devil, you think, tugging yourself out of your thoughts as you turn your body to let jake’s figure come into view. he beams at you like a big puppy, his hair flopping in a way that loosely resembles dog ears, and you remember after a split second that that’s just how your friend is referred to as in your group; the resident golden retriever. he parades up to you and aeri as one too, his vibrant smile lighting up the atmosphere in a way that you can’t stop relief from flooding your system at his presence.

“how are my favourite girls doing this fine evening?” he smirks, his usual flirting the same as always, causing aeri to roll her eyes as you chuckle. “har har up yours, sim.” she sticks her tongue out, prompting jake to do the same as he ruffles her hair, to which she shrieks. “oh, by the way,” jake perks up as if he’s just thought of something, completely ignoring your best friend smacking him on the arm lightly over his actions. “y/n, would you be so kind as to get the pack of beer from my car?” he pleads, doe eyes twinkling under the light of the room.

you’re about to groan in protest, not wanting to go back out in the cold and freeze your ass off for a measly few cans of alcohol, but the front door swinging open accompanied by the all too familiar voice you’ve grown acquainted to fills the air, making your stomach drop— chan. chan is here. suddenly, you’re not too opposed to getting far away, and you quickly nod your head rapidly in agreement, not bothering to wait for the way jake lights up at you accepting his proposal before snatching the keys from his hold and darting towards the lift.

chan’s jaw tightens at this. he barely manages to catch a glimpse of you from how you rush out past him, not even able to take in your outfit or face in the dashing haze you leave in. he points his thumb to where you had exited, bluffing something about helping you when jake responds how you’d gone out to grab the load of drinks he’d been too lazy to heave upstairs himself. nobody makes any work to question him when he turns on his heel to catch the elevator himself, thinking nothing of his usual gentleman-like behaviour.

nobody except for a pair of eyes lingering on his disappearing frame that neither one of the visitors in the house manages to grasp onto.

meanwhile, you quickly find yourself in the outdoor parking lot of jake’s building, hugging your shivering body tightly in an effort to warm yourself up against the chilling wind that blows past the trees. the sky has basically turned dark by now, but the streetlamps hanging overhead on the sides of the pavement serve as enough illumination to carry out your task. your breath comes out in heavy smoke to the point you can see it, and you try your best to spot your friend’s car as soon as possible, cheering internally when you manage to do so. after having jogged on over to it, you enter the key into the trunk lock with trembling fingers, twisting it until that same latch you’ve grown used to feeling with your own vehicle opens and makes way for you to push up the boot lid.

you’re about to hook underneath to manoeuvre it open, that is, until a sudden cold hand tugs on the bare skin of your arm, making you jump out of your own flesh. you open your mouth to yell out loud, ready to alert your friends a few floors upstairs that someone is trying to kidnap you potentially when that same hand clamps over it. only when your vision stabilises in your dimly lit surroundings do you recognise chan in front of you, and you feel your shoulders physically drop as you put down your defences, glaring at him when he removes himself.

“why the hell would you sneak up on me like that? i—“

“are you avoiding me?”

his question comes out gruff and annoyed, causing you to blink at the way he’s glowering at you in suspicion. his arms are crossed against his chest, hiding the black button-up you’ve seen him wearing and committed to memory one too many times from how it clings perfectly onto his chiselled shoulders and biceps. it makes you gulp, but you attempt to hide your affected reaction anyways, delivering a scoff in his direction which only makes chan grit his teeth at your attitude. “so what if i am? you know damn well either way without needing me to spell it out for you.” you bite back, moving to turn around when he catches you by the elbow, leaving you to scowl at him.

“what’s gotten into you? just a few days ago, we were fine, yet now you’re ignoring my texts?” he narrows his eyes, holding you in place so you can’t budge away from him. you let out a faint tch at his words, more so at your own susceptibility to succumb to his advances, but chan tongues the side of his cheek after assuming you’re just being blatantly disrespectful towards him. his voice drops to a lower, seductive tone as he speaks up again. “need me to remind you again? you came over last saturday and humped my thigh before squirting on my tong— hmph!“

“god, yes, i fucking remember, okay?” you exclaim in a whisper after having slapped a hand over his mouth this time, eyes darting around frantically to make sure no one heard that. “could you be any more louder? jesus christ.” chan peels you off of him shortly afterwards, his expression souring at the way you address him. something about the anger in his features makes your own rise, and you feel any or all remorse you'd experienced prior to seeing him in person today vanish, replaced with a bubbling hatred of sorts.

you and chan began your weird affiliation with one another around two months ago, exactly a few days after he and your best friend broke up. to this day, you don’t know why he made a move on you, much less why you yourself reciprocated it. sure, you’d always found him objectively attractive when he and aeri were together, and while he may be your exact match of an ideal type to a tee, you would never think to act on the growing tension you experienced for him, especially when he was in a long term commitment with the closest person in the world to you.

it all happened in the most random of occurrences too. you still remember meeting him the night you were out at the convenience store to run errands, catching him hunched over a table in a hoodie and messy hair with two bottles of soju in front. he’d flashed you a polite smile and offered to drink together, which realistically, you should’ve declined. you should’ve turned the other way in disgust and walked out on him to tell your best friend what he’d attempted to do, regardless of whether that would’ve led to something or not. instead, you found yourself in his bed that day, moaning his name as he ravished you under the moonlight streaming through his curtains in your combined drunken craze.

the next morning had been full of hiccuped cries, chan cradling you in his arms despite the scalding touch of his hold gnashing against you and leaving metaphorical imprints that you would never be able to scrub off. each time he soothed you, rubbing your back and kissing your hair, you felt the waves of guilt wash over harsher than the last. he continued to reassure you throughout anyways, telling you it’d be okay and that no one would have to know. blindly, you’d believed him, promising yourself and him to never act on either of your arbitrary lust by not letting go of your inhibitions.

that was the first lie you told yourself.

“y’know, i’m really not a fan of this whole backtalk towards me.” chan criticises, and you laugh bitterly after picking up on his audible disappointment as it hits your ears. “see? there it is again. maybe i’ve gotta teach you some manners, hm?” his tone is sultry once more, leaving you fighting the urge to flush under his gaze. you ultimately lose though, wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face with the way he snickers at your cheeks reddening crimson. instead, you try retain the little dignity you have left as you push against his chest, scanning your parameters with paranoia when he steps closer to you.

“we can’t.” you mumble, clearly slipping. chan’s only response to that is a breathless huff, warm against your face as you peer up at him through your lashes, finally getting a good look at him. he’s wearing his signature hoop earrings today, hair brushed down so his bangs fall over his forehead. the collar of that same dress shirt he’s got on is popped despite a few buttons being undone, leaving the styling choice to highlight his collarbone. that same milky skin you’ve ghosted your nails over multiple times hides underneath the black fabric, leaving you to shiver at the memories of it. it also doesn’t help that the way he towers you is sending your mind reeling into submission way too easily, and you only manage to shake out of it when his fingers trail down to wrap around your wrist, allowing you to feel the cold metal of a ring you recognise all too well press into your joint—

the same half of a promise ring you’d helped him pick out for aeri a year ago.

the realisation that he’s still wearing it hits, and combined with the once again forming shame in the back of your head, it all makes you want to shove him away in favour of storming out of here to tell your best friend everything once and for all. a part of you can sense undue jealousy simmering inside at the fact that he’s still got a piece of her with him too, something you know you have no right to feel, but you try ignore it to your best ability. “chan, we can’t.” you repeat with a hitch in your breath, more so for yourself than him. and yet, you don’t even believe your own words, finding the less rational and weak side of you surrendering to the temptation chan tantalises in you; it overshadows whatever morality you have left.

“d’you really want me to stop?” he breathes out, body sagging far too close into yours for it to be friendly, although you suppose none of your interactions since starting this scandalous relationship have ever been that. his fingers, the very same ones bearing the ring on them, move to wrap around your throat, forcing you to tilt your head up and lock eyes with him. goosebumps prick your skin when you catch sight of the way his gaze is hooded, orbs swirling with black desire he’s begun to reserve only for you in these coming weeks. “because, if you want me to stop, i will.” chan points out. “say the word and i’ll turn around. out of sight, out of mind.” he makes a statement out of it by retracting his hand from you, but the very distinct whine you let out is all the confirmation he needs to press his mouth to yours.

kissing chan always feels like playing with fire. it scorches, and singes, and sears, reducing you to a burnt crisp, yet you can’t help but yearn for the flame he ignites in you. even the way he’s clutching onto you now, pressing forward with a fervour only you bring out in him, has his lips moulding against your cherry stained ones despite not fitting as perfectly as you’d want them to. the two of you are by no means a compatible match for each other; neither of you has made a single good decision ever since you began indulging in whatever you’ve got going on, but you also can’t help but crave the scandalous nature of everything. you’re truly a despicable pair, you think.

“get in the car.” chan’s voice cuts through your thoughts when he pulls away. he doesn’t even give you time to think when he walks over and opens the door, gesturing inside to the warm confines of the backseat. ideally, you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but alas, you’ve never been one to listen to yourself, instead finding your legs scrambling and following suit to shuffle into jake’s vehicle before the weight of your actions even sinks in. chan’s hot on your trail too, and before you can even get comfortable in the cramped space, he’s returning to making out with you, fingers roaming greedily around the expanse of your skin.

“t-they’ll know we’re gone.” you stutter, moving your face out of his reach to try and stop chan’s movements when it finally dawns on you that your friends had sent you out on an errand you’d taken far too long to complete by now. chan’s only response is to grunt though, tugging you back in for another smouldering kiss that knocks the wind out of your lungs. his hands grasp, pinch, and squeeze whatever part of you they can, until he’s finally decided that he’s had enough foreplay, opting to cage you underneath him and hike up the tight, red dress that’s adorning your body for today’s occasion. “i’ll be quick. i always am.” he winks, and you’re too far gone now to understand that he’s responding to your previous comment, a fact that only makes him chuckle.

“wore this to tease me, yeah?” chan clicks his tongue at the way he has to practically peel off the bottom half of your clothing, the snug fit of the fabric around your curves leaving nothing to the imagination as he bites his lip. he debates whether he’s glad you chose this outfit to show off for him, or if that pisses him off because it means everybody gets an eyeful of your figure; he decides on the latter. “wanted to slut yourself out for my attention? all you had to do was ask, baby.” you shake your head with a whimper, and he raises an eyebrow at your reaction. “d-didn’t.. didn’t wear it for you.” you manage to breathe out, which proves to be the wrong answer because next thing you know, his hand is coming down to smack your clothed core.

you yelp at the sting of his actions, teary eyes blinking up at him in a way that makes chan’s boxers tighten. he’s so close to losing his composure, but he holds back for your sake, not wanting to let you see his cool slip. “is that so? i guess you’re just a dirty girl then.” he sneers, yanking down your soaked panties in one swift motion, leaving you to gasp as the cool air hits your sticky folds.

chan wastes not even one second, knobby digits dragging through the wetness he’s not surprised to find whatsoever. he spreads it over your clit, getting you messier than you already are, especially from the way you appear to leak even more arousal from his movements. he touches you until you’re twitching under his hold, biting back the sounds that threaten to escape you, which seems to be a fact he doesn’t approve of from the way he pinches your nub between his fingers; you cry out softly from the rush of stimulation it shoots through you. “eyes on me.” chan growls, sliding his hand down to circle your oozing hole before he’s abruptly shoving two fingers inside.

“fuck.” you moan this time, loud and clear. this seems to satisfy him, seeing as he rewards you with a steady pump of his digits thrusting into your heat. his speed in fingering you increases quickly, and it isn’t long before he’s scissoring you open, the sloppy sounds of your juices slicking up his fingers and echoing in the stuffy space of jake’s car. you’re probably staining the leather of the seats, but neither you nor chan seem to care about that right now, not when he’s knuckle deep inside your wet cunt and you’re making such pretty noises all for him.

“just filthy, aren’t ya? getting finger fucked in the back of your friends car. i bet your dumb little brain can’t even understand what i’m saying right now.” chan mocks, his tone laced with a level of condescension that only makes you buck your hips up to chase his movements. you know he’s completely right too, because the way he’s thrusting his digits inside you, stroking your warm walls with the tips of them has you seeing stars to the point you can’t even respond back something snarky in return. “all you’re good for is being a nasty toy for sir’s use, hm?” you barely even register his question, only remembering you need to answer him when he pulls his wet hand away to smack you once more, this time over your swollen bundle of nerves.

“y-yes, sir. only a toy for you. jus’ you.” you mindlessly slur out, and chan groans at that. not even a moment passes before he’s sinking his fingers back inside you, curling them up to massage that rough spot which always has you clenching down on him. his expression twists to a smug one when you jerk forward instantly. bingo, he thinks. “that’s that spot there, yeah? the one that has you losing yourself on me?” he coos, but his voice drips with a smidge of venom you can’t quite fixate on just yet. instead, you nod dumbly, spasming around him as you try grind upwards to chase the rising sensation of your climax.

chan leans into your frame, one hand splayed flat onto jake’s backseat above your head to maintain his balance whilst his body hovers over you. by now, your eyes are clenched shut, but he can’t even find it in him to get mad at you over that, not when you’re dribbling down his wrist and mewling so pretty under the glow of the night as he works you towards your orgasm. “c’mon, baby. cum f’me. wanna see you cum so pretty for sir.” he encourages, jaw locked with concentration.

it only takes about one or two flicks of his expertly trained thumb pressing on your puffy clit, combined with the pads of his fingers hitting your g-spot with terrifying accuracy, before you’re shuddering through your climax. a small, clear stream of liquid sprays out the sides of where he’s got you plugged up, and he pulls his hand away in favour of rubbing you over to coax out the last remnants of your high. your quivering body thrashes when he tries to draw out the remaining few droplets again, weakly bringing your arm up to push him away gently when the shocks of overstimulation begin to take over. chan dips down to place one, final kiss on your lips, smooching down to your chin as a way to say you did well. his actions make you heart beat out of your chest, but you don’t say anything about the domesticity of them.

you wonder if he ever treated aeri like this after having been intimate with her.

“go in first. i’ll clean up the car.” chan clears his throat after a short while, not daring to make eye contact with you as he quietly pulls your underwear back up your legs. you watch in silence while he sits up, looking for a rag to fix the mess you two made when that same awkward air you’ve gotten used to facing with him enters the atmosphere, leaving you to try and ignore how it tugs at the strings of your soul as you give a curt nod. “don’t forget the beer.” you remind him before swinging the door open to step outside, finding yourself back in the nipping cold of the winter night.

you try and stand on your wobbly legs to straighten out the creases of your dress, paying no mind to the way your skin echoes with the ghost of chan’s previous touch. behind you, you can hear him rolling down the windows to let the musky smell of sex out of jake’s backseat, and you almost dare to sneak a glance back until deciding against it, knowing it’ll just hurt more. instead, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, opening them to land on the small balcony of your friend’s apartment where the rest of your group seems to have already gathered from the silhouettes you can see through the foggy glass. your conscience feels heavy with the weight of the knowledge that aeri is up there too, but you brush it off, just like all the other times you have.

i didn’t do anything wrong, you tell yourself, i’m still in the clear. that’s the second lie you’ve tried to believe in these last two months. a long sigh escapes your lips at that realisation, but you bite it down when making your way back inside the building, choosing to rack your brain on what shitty excuse you’ll have to provide this time for being gone so long.

. . .

to your surprise, nobody bothers to question why either you or chan disappeared, simply whisking you back in conversation about unrelated topics when you walk in through the door a few minutes before him. as per usual, your heart still feels heavy when you watch aeri laugh at something heeseung and sieun are arguing over, but you cover it up by letting out a noise of amusement yourself, hoping it throws off any suspicion that might be directed your way. you don’t bother turning your head upon hearing jake’s delight at the sight of chan entering his apartment with the very much requested pack of beer too, deciding to force a smile at whatever point heeseung is busy making over looking back no matter how much your body itches to do so.

it’s even worse how from the corner of your eye, you can see aeri shifting uncomfortably on her feet at her ex-boyfriend’s second arrival, her expression dropping in the slightest so as to not draw attention to herself, but it’s still enough for you to notice. it only makes the weight of your actions dawn on you further, and you can’t help but let your mind wander as to what she’d say if she knew what truly went on behind closed doors. despite your best efforts to bury those thoughts beneath you though, you know there’s nothing you can do to make amends to the problems you’ve created yourself. after all, you’ve got to reap what you sow.

the party continues to kick in on full swing after that, with you and aeri both doing your best to keep your distances from chan for all too different reasons. it doesn’t help that you can feel someone’s stare raking across your figure throughout the duration of the evening, and when you finally do decide to sneak a glance in that direction with expectations of finding chan ogling you over, you’re met with a different answer—

for it isn’t you he’s busy looking at, but rather your best friend that’s been glued to your side since the beginning of the night.

he averts his gaze as quick as he’d cast it when you catch him, seamlessly blending back in discussion with whatever nonsense changbin is rambling about this time, acting like he hadn’t just been getting an eyeful of his ex-girlfriend moments prior. you also don’t miss how he fiddles with the old ring that adorns his right hand, long fingers twisting it around the middle digit in a way that’s reminiscent of his past behaviour, or at least based on what you’d often find him doing back then.

his actions spark a memory deep from the confines of your brain, one you wish you hadn’t remembered as the vision of chan asking you to help pick out promise rings for him and aeri crosses your mind. it was raining heavily that day, but he’d insisted that the two of you go out in secret anyways so he could buy his then girlfriend a token of his love and appreciation. he’d claimed you knew her taste the best and could therefore help in selecting a better possible gift for their upcoming anniversary than he ever could.

you’d hesitantly agreed, and although you weren’t sure how it would all play out, you later found yourself sharing an umbrella and visiting various jewellery stores to point out all the designs you knew your closest friend would adore. chan had settled soon on a matching pair for the two of them, beaming in your direction with a bright smile that left you weak in the knees despite however much you tried to hide it. a few days later, aeri excitedly showed off her own silver band to you, buzzing about how he’d chosen the perfect present that she couldn’t wait to replace with a real one in their future; you couldn’t help then but think if he ever told her it was all your idea instead of his.

“hey, can you hold my phone?” your best friend’s voice cuts through your inner replay, and you blink in a daze to find her facing you, expression innocent. “hyunjin asked to play beer pong, and i don’t have any pockets to put it away in safely.” she explains at your confused face, but all you can do is nod as you robotically outstretch your arm to take it off of her. unfortunately or fortunately, that’s when you notice it—

the same matching ring on her hand.

aeri doesn’t pay you any attention when she drops off her device into your awaiting palm, not even realising you’re zeroed in on the jewellery that decorates her left hand with a fire burning in your eyes that you’re both ignorant of. you don’t stop gaping even when felix shakes your shoulder, asking you what you’re so fixated on before leaving you be under the impression that you’re probably just drunk out of your head. meanwhile, you’re still frozen in place, everything around you seeming to slow down.

why is chan wearing a ring he bought for his ex-girlfriend two years ago to a party he knows she’s going to be at? no, why does said ex-girlfriend also have her matching pair of the ring on her hand at a party she too is aware he’s going to be present for? much less, why are either of them hung up on each other to the point they’re carrying around reminders of their past relationship with one another? you know the answer to all these questions, but you don’t wish to sit and delve into them in fear you might throw up at the conclusion they’ll give you. instead, all you can do is squeeze the can of seltzer you’d spiked in your hand dangerously tight out of unwanted emotion, enough for some of the liquid inside to spill out. you can’t be bothered to care about it though, just like how you can’t be bothered to care about how anybody in their right mind could probably see you gawking at chan right now.

you watch as he cracks up at a joke seungmin makes, his head falling back in a fit of laughter you’ve been a happy witness or recipient of multiple times, yet this time it fills you with emotion that you don’t wish to identify in fear it’d mean something more than what you’re capable of confronting right now. even so, you can’t stop the train of questions invading your thoughts at the view in front of you. did he laugh like that with aeri? smile so wide with her? couldn’t help the joy that spread across due to her presence? maybe that’s why he came today, because he couldn’t take his mind off of her, especially seeing as he was wearing a symbol of their time spent before right now.

but, what does that say about you in this picture? were you just a scapegoat to escape all those feelings for him? had you been one this entire time, only deluding yourself into thinking what you both had translated into a situation deeper and could potentially progress into one even more had things happened under different circumstances? the more you think, the more you feel nauseous, and you can’t stop yourself from diverting your gaze to where your best friend is, observing her concentrated face as she attempts to aim a ping pong ball into one of the lined up solo cups. your eyes involuntarily flicker to the ring on her finger once more, its evident shimmer reflecting in the light causing you to clutch your drink tighter.

you’re not a jealous person by any means. you know your boundaries, hence you know chan isn’t yours. he isn’t an object you can own, and neither are you to him. that was the unspoken agreement you both nodded on when you got into this entire ordeal— you’re both free to see other people openly in front of aeri as long as it’s not each other, because the latter you manage in secret despite the shame that surges in you two upon doing so. it doesn’t matter if you wish to stake your claim on him, to see the marks you leave on him evident on his skin the next morning for him to show off other girls who think they stand a chance at him taking them to bed. it doesn’t matter how much your heart aches when you wake up to the blanket strewn aside from his absence, the sheets long gone cold to indicate that he’d left hours ago. it doesn’t matter how much you wish to cling onto his arm in public and profess your.. feelings for him in front of everyone else.

it simply doesn’t matter, it never did. chan’s never been yours, and he never will be anytime soon.

20:51 PM from: Myself meet me at the upstairs bathroom in five

you punch in the message before you can even think, watching it turn from delivered to read in a matter of seconds. the three dots next to chan’s side of texts appear, indicating that he’s typing, but you choose to lock your device rather than waiting like a dog to see him reply. instead, your feet lead you to your designated location, taking one step at a time leisurely as opposed to in a rush so as to not draw unwanted attention to yourself. right as you reach the door handle, your phone pings with a familiar ringtone.

20:52 PM from: dni!!! Reacted with “👍🏻” to your message

you sigh. tonight was going to be a long night.

. . .

skin slapping. heavy panting. low grunting.

that’s all you can hear from where you’re splayed across the sink in the small confines of jake’s bathroom, aside from the occasional thumping of music booming from downstairs. if you strain your ear enough, you’ll be able to make out the lyrics to the cliche song that’s come up on shuffle, but you honestly lack the mentality to care about that right now, especially considering the way chan has your legs pushed apart in favour of drilling his length into you. each thrust is rapid and fervent in nature, seeming to knock the wind out of your lungs to the point you don’t even realise how loud you’re being until his hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth. “be fucking quiet.” he sneers, leaving you to drool everywhere. the only reaction he spares when you try muffle out an apology is a sickening smirk at that too.

“needed this, didn’t you, slut? always need to be filled with some cock like a bitch in heat.” chan chuckles, but there’s a dark edge to his voice that sends shivers crawling up your spine. he presses down on your tongue with the pads of his fingers, and you can’t stop the garbling of spit choking past your lips from the way his thickness nestles deep inside you. each heavy drag of his dick against your rough walls leaves you clenching and attempting to buck your hips forward, but you can’t even manage that with the grip he has on your waist. the mere idea that all chan really needs to restrain you is the simple strength of his one hand sends your mind reeling, so much so that you don’t even realise he’s speaking to you until the hand that was previously in your mouth pulls out to slap light and wet against your cheek.

“i asked you a question, whore.” chan growls, the sound resonating warm within your stomach despite the mean undertone to it as his movements still. you blink up at him in confusion at this point, doe eyes brimming with tears that threaten to spill from the loss of pleasure in a way that has chan damn near finishing. it doesn’t help that he’s buried to the hilt currently, hissing painfully at how you squeeze down on him in involuntary instinct. for a split second, you swear you see the ridges on his face soften, and the manner in which he looms over you feels filled with more comfort than intimidation, but that smidge of emotion vanishes as soon as it arrives. “i said,” chan’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “do you wanna get caught?” you rapidly shake your head no at that, and chan cocks his head to the side.

“oh, really?” he muses, nails sliding over to dig into the supple flesh of your thigh, making you whine out loud. “‘cause with the way you’re making so much noise like that, i’d have assumed the opposite.” with a click of his tongue, his actions resume. luckily, all that escapes you is a loud gasp this time, an anxious clamp of your palm over your mouth barely covering up the rest of your lewdity. you wish so desperately to refute, to plead him in favour of slowing down and having some mercy, but the sensation of his bulbous cockhead slamming roughly into that one spot only sends stars in your vision and prevents your previous desires.

your body jerks in chan’s hold even more when his same hand still lubed with your saliva finds it way between where you’re connected, leaving you to suppress a pathetic whimper that longs to bubble out of your throat as he presses the tips of his fingers to your swollen clit. his touch is harsh, filled with an overwhelming need to make you burst at the seams, but the fear that lingers in the back of your head refuses to let you fall apart so easily, not when aeri is barely a flight of stairs from your vicinity. chan decides he isn’t fond of the silence you’re giving him though, pulling out with a quiet mumble for you to get down and face the mirror. he sheaths himself back in just as quickly, setting an unforgiving pace from the seemingly more accessible position, and this time, you really can’t stop the long drawn out moan that escapes you.

“j-just like that, yeah, baby? all those filthy noises are just for me, aren’t they?” he sounds more delirious this time, presumably drunk off the essence of this situation from the possessive gibberish he’s spouting, just like he always does in the heat of the moment. unfortunately for you, you’re no better than him, nodding furiously in agreement as you babble high-pitched and breathy. “so good, sir! s-so, so fucking good, feels so good! wan’ cum f’you, p-please. ‘m a good girl, please lemme cum, please, please, please.” small stutters spew out of you mid-sentence, but neither of you can be bothered by them, too wrapped up in the throes of all-consuming passion and contempt even to register what’s being said.

“such a nasty, nasty girl.. getting fucked by your best friend’s ex. don’t you feel a-any shame?” chan groans almost wearily in midst of his lust-filled haze, eyes catching yours from the reflection of the mirror that’s displaying you getting absolutely wrecked right now. the sight of you so fucked up and in bliss, no coherent thought visible by the looks of your dazed expression and tongue halfway lolling out— it all has him burning with hot, rampant hunger. hunger for you, hunger to claim you. “look at yourself.” he rasps, fingers clutching at your chin to force you into meeting where he is. “look how dirty you are, fuck. what would she say about you wrapped so warm and snug around my cock? hm? think we should— ah. think we should call her in and find out?”

the tears that were brewing in your waterline are streaming down your face by now, horrifically mimicking the disgusting manner in your wetness seeping and dripping down chan’s balls. you feel awful. downright terrible and tainted, forever branded by the searing touch of chan’s skin grazing against yours because that’s what you are, that’s what you have been for the past two months. down from the night you let him lead you into his sheets, following the countless occasions you found yourself returning there, and finally falling to now, your underwear strewn across the tiles of jake’s bathroom as you spread your legs for the same man who broke your best friend’s heart; the same man who you’ve let into yours after very consciously disregarding the repercussions of your actions.

you’re truly a loathsome piece of work.

“think she’d like to watch me fill this pussy up? watch me shoot my load deep inside you over and over again until i’m sure it’s taken?” chan mutters, hot breath fanning against your sweaty neck. “maybe i should breed this stupid cunt full of my seed and send you back out there with it spilling past your legs. that way, every time you sit down, you’ll feel it inside you.” the mental image of his release lodged in your walls as you’re surrounded by all your friends, surrounded by the one person you’ve both been hiding from, all of them oblivious to the way he’s staked his claim on you except for the shared knowledge between you two and you two only— it has you quivering to the point you physically keen in his hold. chan, however, just laughs sadistically at your reaction.

“you’ll feel it as a reminder of me, yeah? a reminder that you’re just as terrible as me. coming to me to get this slutty cunt stuffed even though you know you shouldn’t.” he continues to whisper. “after all, it takes two to tango, darling.” chan makes it a point to tilt his hips up in an effort to ensure his mushroom tip hits your g-spot with precise force, all the while breathlessly uttering more sickening words in your ear in hopes of fulfilling your need for relief.

surely enough, the combination of his cock shoving itself past your opening and his guilt-inducing remarks that only make you sob harder work you up to the point of no return. all it really takes after that is one touch of his thumb to your pulsating nub to eventually have you seizing up in no time, your pussy messily tightening and gushing as your high crashes over you in large waves of ecstasy. it seems to trigger him too, because by the time you even realise you’re there, chan’s twitching and leaking spurts of thick cum inside you. there’s so much of it that it trickles past where he’s got you plugged up, and you barely comprehend yourself pushing a hand near your oozing hole to catch it on your fingertips.

you both come to slowly, ragged breathing that fills the air growing quieter to pair with the musk of the room. chan’s gaze is still trained on you through the mirror, unreadable just like always whenever you’ve made the same mistake again, but you take the opportunity in this instance specifically to raise the hand that’s collected his seed in it to your mouth, proceeding to lick up the droplets of his excess release. even though you don’t catch his stare in the reflection, you can still feel it burning holes through your head, a fact that only leaves goosebumps rising over your skin. it’s only when you pull your hand away once more to catch the last of his remaining cum that he decides to finally interject, grabbing your palm in his coarse one with hooded eyes. they’re blown out when he tugs your back flush into his chest, the impact leaving his length pushing deeper inside, and they’re blown out when his fingers wrap around your neck to give it a slight squeeze, the little loss of oxygen making your mind spin.

“you think that’s funny? teasing me even after i just fucked you? after i left my mark on you and made sure you know that you’re mine?” chan murmurs, lips sultrily ghosting the shell of your ear. you want to fixate on what he’d addressed you as, let it marinate in your thoughts and brood over it for the next weeks to come even if it was just an absentminded slip of the mouth, but your focus is interrupted by the moving of his hips against yours picking up once more. the previously repeated actions send his dick driving into you again, breaching your cervix and pressing deliciously into every nook and cranny in a way that has you nearly losing your footing, but chan is quicker to hold you up with his free hand. “w-wait, ‘m still sensitive.” you manage to tremble out at a particularly well-placed graze of his cock, but chan doesn’t seem to care, grinding into you even more eagerly at your admission to the point you struggle to keep the sounds spilling out you at bay.

there’s a resounding knock on the door all of a sudden, one that makes your breath hitch and your chest twist in uneasiness. some part of you feels wary and on edge, and you would assume chan’s movements would halt at that, but he doesn’t show any signs of stopping, ignoring your frantic attempts to make him do so by holding you in place instead as he begins to pick up the pace. “s-stop, we’ll get caught.” you heave out upon the noise of skin slapping rising in volume. you do your best to stand your ground, to avoid the gradual closing of your eyes and the mushy fog of your brain clouding over in euphoria, but it’s to no avail. you’re about to let go of your inhibitions completely, to forget about what had just happened and throw caution into the wind in order to lose yourself in the moment, until—

“y/n, i know you’re in there with chris.”

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

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rothpie · 7 months ago

Text

❝FIDELITY❞ |part7

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: mentioning fighting, blood

Selly’s note: Once again, english isn’t my first language🫣🥺 I’m sorry if there’s mistakes💗

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You held your mother’s hand, trying to take deep breaths. Some days were unbearable. Scents alone could ruin your entire day. But then there were the good days, when everything felt just a bit easier, and the smells didn’t seem as overwhelming—they were perfect.

Those were the days when life felt like a rainbow stretching across your world, as if you could eat a thousand candies and never gain a pound. Pure joy, like the kind you felt as a child, when the weight of the world didn’t exist.

Luckily, today was one of those better days. The nausea was minimal—just the usual discomfort you’d gotten used to. The smells didn’t bother you much. Even when you were mildly irritated, you managed to brush it off.

Excitement hummed in your chest. Today wasn’t just any routine check-up—it was the day you’d find out the baby’s gender.

There weren’t many people you wanted with you for this moment. You didn’t even have to ask your mom; of course, she’d be there.

She’d softened her approach lately, you could tell. Regret lingered in her initial reactions, and she was trying to be kinder now. Even though she still thought it was early days, she had been making an effort to meet you where you were.

“You okay, sweetheart?” she asked, her voice full of concern. You nodded, your hand instinctively resting on your stomach.

“Just… feeling a little overwhelmed,” you admitted. She nodded in understanding, reaching out to clasp your hand in both of hers. Her smile was warm, genuine. “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” she reassured you.

Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, and as she pulled you close, a calmness settled over you. She placed a kiss on your temple, and for a moment, you believed her.

Three months and a week in. By all calculations, this was the perfect time to find out the baby’s gender.

You hated the smell of the hospital. But today, you were grateful it wasn’t making you nauseous.

“Shall we begin?” Dr. Hart’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned your head quickly, your grip on your mother’s hand tightening. You nodded, signaling that you were ready.

Letting go of her hand, you raised your shirt to reveal your belly. When Dr. Hart handed you a tissue to protect your clothes, you tucked it into the waistband of your shorts without hesitation.

“Alright,” the doctor said calmly, holding up the bottle of gel. “This might feel a bit cold. Let’s take a look, shall we?”

You nodded again, and when the gel touched your skin, a shiver ran through you. The coldness was sharp, but it was soon replaced by the gentle pressure of the ultrasound wand.

Your eyes drifted to the ceiling, trying to center yourself. Why were you so nervous? Finding out the gender made everything feel so much more real, so much more permanent. It was overwhelming, this responsibility. But it was yours to bear. New beginnings were always scary—this was no different. You would adjust. You had to.

The sound of a heartbeat filled the room, breaking through your racing thoughts. Your gaze shot from the ceiling to the monitor.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat,” Dr. Hart said with a smile, adjusting the screen to show the grainy black-and-white image.

Your hands were clammy as you stared at the monitor. You tightened your grip on your mother’s hand, trying to steady your breathing.

It was real. The heartbeat was steady, strong, undeniable. There was a life inside you. Your baby.

The thought hit you like a wave, leaving you momentarily breathless. Tears threatened, but you didn’t have the energy to cry. You just… marveled. It was surreal.

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as you tilted your head back.

Your mother’s touch in your hair reminded you of her presence. When you opened your eyes, her face was full of joy, her gaze bouncing between you and the screen. Her smile widened when your eyes met, and it was contagious—you smiled back, despite yourself.

“It’s beautiful,” your mom whispered, her voice blending with the rhythmic sound of the heartbeat. Dr. Hart chuckled softly, nodding in agreement as she continued to examine the screen. “It really is.”

You couldn’t speak. You simply nodded, your focus glued to the tiny movements on the monitor. A lump formed in your throat as you swallowed hard, determined not to cry. Not from sadness this time—this was happiness.

Dr. Hart gestured at the screen, her voice warm and steady. “Everything looks great so far—healthy growth, perfect positioning. And, if you’d like, I can tell you the gender today.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and without thinking, you nodded eagerly. “Yes,” you blurted out. The word spilled from your lips before you could stop it. You wanted to know with all your heart.

You hadn’t even had the time to think about what you wanted. You’d been so focused on the future, on survival, that you hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine this moment. But now, it was here.

“I want to know.”

You didn’t care whether it was a boy or a girl. Healthy was all that mattered. Though, deep down, you couldn’t deny the hope—one you didn’t even want to admit to yourself—that the baby wouldn’t resemble him. You didn’t want the reminder.

You glanced at your mom. Her smile was wide and reassuring, her joy as infectious as ever. You were grateful for her presence. You wished your dad could have been there too, but he was out of town. He’d wanted to come, truly, but work had kept him away.

Still, you appreciated the support they both offered in their own ways. It felt like, for once, life was on your side. You’d prayed for this, and it was happening.

Dr. Hart’s smile grew as she studied the screen. “Congratulations—it looks like you’re having a baby girl.”

Your mother’s delighted squeal filled the room. She practically jumped in place, still holding your hand, her laughter bubbling over. “I knew it! I knew it! My baby’s baby!”

It took you a moment to process her words. A shaky breath escaped your lips as tears welled in your eyes. Your mom’s kisses rained down on your hair, her joy boundless.

A baby girl.

Your little girl.

You remembered your mom jokingly wishing you’d have a child just like you—and now, it seemed, that wish was coming true. You couldn’t stop smiling, even as the weight of the realization settled over you.

Could you handle being a mom? You’d spent so much time worrying about that, you’d never let yourself imagine this moment. But now, all you could see were the possibilities—her eyes, her laugh, the moments you’d share together. It felt so real. So close.

Your mom met your gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She nodded at you, her expression full of pride and love. Her hands cradled your face as she whispered, “She’ll be as strong as you.”

The kiss she pressed to your forehead was soft, and you breathed deeply, letting yourself feel the comfort of that moment.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself relax. You silently thanked the heavens for this moment, for this peace that felt untouchable. Maybe all you needed was to hear your baby’s heartbeat, to know she was thriving.

The steady rhythm of her heart in the background seemed to remind you: no matter how scared you were, you weren’t alone in this.

“She’s very healthy,” Dr. Hart said with a smile, handing you a cloth to clean off the gel. You quickly wiped your stomach, your heart full to bursting.

Your hands trembled as the reality sank in. It was almost too much to believe—like you might wake up and find it was all a dream. But you didn’t want to wake up. You didn’t want to lose this happiness.

With your mom’s hand on your back, you left the hospital, your heart lighter than it had been in months. There was a long road ahead, but for now, you let yourself feel the joy. You climbed into the car, the journey ahead—boats and drives—barely crossing your mind. All you knew was that you’d take every step with a heart full of hope.

You had decided the mainland would be a safer option than the island for a hospital visit like this. It was still the right choice for you. Even if the journey was a bit complicated, it felt secure, and you actually enjoyed it.

This way, everything would be better.

When your mother started the car, you fastened your seatbelt. As your eyes roamed the surroundings, you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful the area was. The idea of building a new life here wasn’t far-fetched; it was starting to feel right.

You couldn't stop imagining all the moments you’d share with your little girl here. A smile crept across your lips as you glanced at a park you were passing. You watched mothers interacting with their children, and the thought of being one of them someday filled you with peace. Knowing that one day you’d be the one playing there with your daughter—it was priceless.

The car slowed down, and your mother gestured ahead. “What do you think about something with a little garden?” she asked, pointing to a row of cottages along the road. “She could run around, and maybe someday we’d even set up a swing.” Her voice was cheerful; she was enjoying the thought as much as you were. You couldn’t help but giggle as your eyes wandered over the homes.

“They look cute,” you said, examining them while your mother nodded quickly, as though she already had the whole thing planned out.

“Don’t they?” she said with enthusiasm. You nodded, starting to believe this really was the perfect place to build a future.

“And it’s a great school district. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable here. There’s even a park nearby,” she added. Her excitement made you laugh uncontrollably.

“Mom, she’s not even born yet,” you reminded her with a chuckle, feeling like she might start saving for college any moment now.

Your mom rolled her eyes, laughing as you instinctively placed a hand on your belly.

“I’m just saying, sweetheart—there’s no harm in planning ahead,” she said warmly.

You kept smiling as you took in the sight of the houses. It was comforting, thinking about your unborn child’s future. Dreaming about her, imagining what life here could be like. The idea of leaving all your bad memories behind felt so good.

Starting fresh in a place where your daughter could grow up far away from the island—away from everyone there—felt right. You liked the thought of not needing to look perfect or hold everything together for others.

There was something about this place. The energy here felt brighter, livelier than the island. The trees seemed greener, the streets cleaner, the homes more charming, the people kinder.

When you reached the marina, you watched your mom park the car. Stepping out, you took a deep breath of the fresh air that hit your face.

You just knew you loved it here. You realized you wanted to stay a little longer, to explore the area, imagining the memories you could create with your daughter. You wanted to dream about those moments, even though they hadn’t happened yet.

You were so excited that you found yourself questioning if it was all real.

As your mom walked toward the dock, you turned around for one last look at the place. No. This wouldn’t be the last time you came here. You felt like you had a lifetime to spend in this place. It seemed better in every way.

It felt like a place where you wouldn’t hesitate to step outside. Even now, the thought of returning to the island brought a heaviness to your chest, as though you were stepping into a dark tunnel. But here, every moment felt bright.

The idea of a home sounded nice—quiet, steady, hers.

Settling beside your mom, you took in the salty sea air. Neither of you spoke much. Instead, you both savored the evening sun and the soothing sound of the waves.

It had been an unusually tiring day. You hadn’t done much, but your whole body ached. The warmth of the sun paired with the cool breeze created the perfect balance, lulling you into a drowsy state.

You didn’t even notice when your eyes drifted shut. But the slight pressure on your arm woke you, making you realize you’d arrived back at the island.

You stretched out your arms and unlinked them. “You can sleep at home, sweetheart. Come on,” your mom said softly. Rubbing your eyes and straightening your clothes, you followed her. Your steps were sluggish as you trailed behind her. You just wanted to get home and sleep until you couldn’t anymore.

If you could, you’d ask them to leave you alone for 24 hours so you could sleep.

As you got back into the car with your mom, you let out a sigh. Normally, you enjoyed road trips, but this time, it felt unbearable. You just wanted to be in your bed—where you belonged. You deserved some rest. After all, you were a pregnant woman.

“Do you think I should move?”

You didn’t know where the question came from. You were just full of doubts.

Your mom took her eyes off the road for a second to glance at you, her eyebrows raised. “Well,” she said, taking a deep breath as she focused back on driving. Reaching over, she took your hand. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

Looking at your hand in hers, you took a deep breath. The sky had grown darker. You leaned your head against the window, fear stirring in your chest. You wanted so badly to move, but there was a part of you that was scared. “What if I don’t feel good there?”

Your mom gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, her voice steady and warm. “Then you come back. We’ll figure it out. We’ll keep trying until we find where you feel right.”

You lifted your head from the window to look at her, meeting her gaze. There was a tender smile on her face.

“Don’t think for a second that our doors will ever be closed to you. Never. If you decide it’s not the right place—even if it’s your first day—you’ve got a home to come back to. Always.”

Warmth flooded your chest. Hearing her say that was invaluable. You knew they wouldn’t turn you away, but still, it felt good to hear. You wanted this new place so badly. But what if it didn’t turn out to be what you’d imagined?

“I’m scared,” you whispered.

“There’s no need to be. You’ve got this. And you’ve got me,” she said, her voice filled with quiet determination, as if willing you to believe in yourself.

“We’ll do this whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush.” You nodded, unable to summon the strength to say more.

The car ride was quiet at first. You stared out the window, watching the scenery blur by—cypress trees swaying in the wind, the ocean sparkling in the distance.

The silence in the car wasn’t unsettling. There was a familiar comfort in her mother’s presence. The steady hum of the engine and the slight vibration of the wheels grounded her as her thoughts wandered.

Your eyes drifted to the trees along the roadside, their trunks illuminated in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It felt as though they were whispering to you.

Your hand instinctively went to your belly. There was a life there—tiny, but growing each day. The thought warmed her, but it also terrified you.

Your mother broke the silence with a gentle tone. “You know,” she began, “do you want to know what I felt when I found out I was pregnant with you?”

The question caught you off guard. Your mother rarely shared memories like this, but her voice invited her in. “Were you scared?” you asked softly.

Her mother smiled faintly, nodding. “Oh, terrified. I was a mess. But at the same time, there was this… hope. Like everything in my life suddenly had meaning. And that hope—it makes you strong.”

Your chest tightened. You turned your gaze back to the window, swallowing hard. “What if I make mistakes?” you whispered, voice barely audible.

Your mom smiled, her voice rich with love. “You will make mistakes. We all do. But that little one? She’ll love you through them. Because you’re her mom.”

Tears pricked your eyes, though they didn’t fall. Her throat felt tight. The words your mom said so easily now felt like the most precious truths in the world.

“Still…” you said. “Should I stay here? On the island? Or somewhere else?” The question tumbled out again, as if you couldn’t stop yourself. You felt like no matter how many times she heard the answer, you’d always feel uncertain.

Your mom paused for a moment before responding with a thoughtful expression. “If being here makes you happy, stay. If you’re somewhere else and happy, stay there. But remember this—home isn’t about the house. You build a home with love, with patience. That little one just needs you to be there.”

Your eyes filled with tears you wouldn’t shed. Somehow, your mom’s words made everything feel possible and terrifying all at once. You nodded quietly, letting the weight of your mother’s wisdom settle into your heart.

With those words, a bit of the tightness within you seems to ease. You glance down at the hand resting on your stomach, and in that moment, your mother’s words give you a small surge of strength.

You hated the suffocating sense of dread that settled over you the moment you stepped onto this stupid island. It felt like the shadows themselves were closing in on you, draining you of air. Like you were already drowning.

As the car entered the narrow roads, the headlights bounced off cracked concrete walls and the weathered faces of old buildings. Your mom gripped the steering wheel tightly, swerving carefully to avoid potholes. The world outside was unnervingly quiet, as if everyone had retreated into their homes, leaving the streets deserted for just the two of you. The faint hum of the radio played in the background, but the silence in the car was far deeper.

You stared out the window, though your thoughts were miles away from the neighborhood outside. Your eyes darted around, catching fleeting glimpses of the world beyond the glass—until something stirred in your peripheral vision.

Something didn’t sit right. Instinctively, you felt it. As if—something was off. “Mom, slow down,” you said, your voice startled but firm.

“I’m not going that fast, sweetheart.” No, it wasn’t about speed. Something was wrong. If you didn’t look back, you thought you might pass out.

“Mom, stop the car.” Your tone was laced with urgency now.

“What is it?” she asked, glancing at you but not slowing down.

“Just stop the car!” you snapped, sharper this time, your eyes still glued to the figure outside. “Please.” At last, your mom hit the brakes.

Your gaze didn’t waver. You recognized that face—though it was barely visible under the dim light. Even if blood and shadows obscured it, you knew. That stupid hair. Those dumb clothes. That ridiculous boot.

“What’s going on?” your mom asked, but you were already opening your door.

“I think I know him.”

You didn’t just think it. Deep down, you were certain. You couldn’t make out his face clearly, but even his posture screamed it was him.

You moved quickly, rounding the back of the car as you heard the distant creak of your mom’s door opening. She called your name, but you didn’t turn around.

Maybe you didn’t catch his attention at first, but something must’ve tipped him off. His head lifted. Your eyes met. And deep down, you already knew.

You’d recognize that stupid mop of hair from a mile away.

JJ was slumped against a wall, looking seconds away from collapsing entirely. One shoulder drooped awkwardly, and his clothes were soaked in blood. When his blue eyes finally noticed you, they weren’t like you remembered. They were dull. Tired.

Your steps quickened, a tight knot of anxiety building in your chest. The first time you’d met him, he’d nearly looked like this too. But not this bad. And now, things were different. You were—friends, kind of.

“JJ.” His name left your lips as you reached him. He smiled faintly, head sagging as you caught him. “What happened?” Panic seeped into your voice.

He looked awful.

His brow was split open, clothes torn to shreds. Bruises—dark and ugly—lined his neck. It was terrifying.

“You should see the other—” he mumbled before his knees buckled. You held him tighter, feeling your mom approach from behind. You shot her a pleading look.

“Mom, we need to get him to a hospital.”

Before she could reply, JJ groaned, attempting to wriggle free. He stumbled. He couldn’t even stand straight, yet he was fighting like a fool.

“I’m fine! I’m fine.”

Was he serious? He could barely walk. His clothes were drenched in blood, bruises painted across his face, and he thought he was fine?

Was he trying to insult your intelligence?

“You’re clearly not. Mom, help me. We’re taking him to the hospital.” But when you tried to steady him again, he jerked back, collapsing onto the pavement. He sprawled there, motionless, eyes shut.

“No. Absolutely not. I said I’m fine.” His voice was barely audible, slurred. Fine? He was out of his mind.

Your mom called your name, snapping you out of it. Her expression was a mix of confusion and worry. “Who is this? A friend of yours?” she asked, still processing the scene.

“Yes,” you answered curtly, sparing no details. Stepping closer to JJ, you hesitated, noticing blood trickling down his shirt. The sight made your stomach churn. You weren’t going to stand there and watch him bleed out in the middle of the street.

Behind you, your mom spoke again. “What happened to him? Is he hurt? We can’t leave him like this.”

JJ shook his head weakly, mumbling to himself, “No… just leave me. I’m fine.” His voice was so faint it was barely there. None of it made sense.

“There’s no fine here!” you snapped, your voice harsher now. Even your mom seemed startled. But this wasn’t just for him—it was for her too. “I’m not leaving him.”

Your mom hesitated, then nodded slowly. She didn’t know JJ, but she didn’t need to recognize him to figure out he was a Pogue. “Okay,” she said, her resolve breaking. “Let’s get him to the car. We can’t leave him like this.”

JJ tried protesting one last time, his half-lidded gaze barely focusing on you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared of him passing out—or worse. He looked wrecked. “Fine. But no hospitals. Just...no.”

You exhaled sharply. He wasn’t going to move unless you agreed. Finally, you closed your eyes, exasperated. He was killing you with this stubbornness. He needed help, and yet he was making demands. “Shit— okay.”

This time, he didn’t fight. Carefully, you draped his arm over your shoulder, your mom supporting his other side. His weight dragged both of you down, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting him somewhere safe.

Once you got him into the car, you let out a shaky breath. You tried not to see it as some sort of personal moment. He’d helped you before, after all. The car was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and JJ’s shallow breaths. You glanced at him, his head resting against the window, eyes half-closed. You silently prayed he wouldn’t pass out.

“You didn’t have to pick me up,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. At least he was talking. That was something. You turned to him, your expression softening. “And you didn’t have to act invincible.”

Your mom hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet but started driving toward home. You, meanwhile, kept stealing glances at JJ in the rearview mirror.

To say you were worried would be an understatement—you were terrified.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him like this. Months ago, when you’d first met, he’d been almost as bad. But back then, you didn’t know each other. You were practically strangers.

Now? Things were different. Seeing him like this shook you. It made you realize something.

You considered him a friend.

He wasn’t just the guy who’d show up with supplies when you needed something. Somewhere along the way, you’d started to see him as someone close enough to share pieces of your life with.

Hell, he was one of the four people on this godforsaken island who knew you were pregnant.

You trusted him.

Seeing someone you know like this—bruised, battered, and barely holding on—how terrifying is that?

For a moment, you genuinely thought he might have a brain hemorrhage. You’d tended to him, watched him slip into unconsciousness, and feared he wouldn’t wake up. He looked utterly wrecked.

You didn’t know what had happened. You hated the not knowing, especially because he never asked about you. All he’d ever inquired about was the baby—and even then, he’d respected your boundaries, letting you share only what you wanted. He hadn’t even asked if it was Rafe’s. He could’ve, but he didn’t.

But you couldn’t help your own curiosity. What had led him to this state? You wanted to know. And more than anything, you wanted it never to happen again. He was your… friend. At least, you thought so. He’d helped you as much as you’d helped him.

The hospital was off the table—he made that crystal clear. So, you didn’t take him. But seeing him like this? It shook you.

First, you gently cleaned the blood off his face and arm with a damp cloth. Then you patched up the gash above his brow. When you pulled his torn shirt off, your breath caught. His body was a patchwork of dark bruises, covering nearly every inch. You didn’t want to look too long—it felt intrusive, wrong even.

It wasn’t like last week when he shamelessly changed his shirt in front of you. This was different. He was vulnerable, beaten, and unconscious.

When his eyes fluttered open, you were leaning against the bathroom tiles, watching. His gaze was hazy, like he was trying to piece together where he was. Finally, his eyes locked onto you. They scanned you briefly, taking in the damp cloth in your hand, the bucket behind you, and the open first-aid kit on the floor.

“You didn’t have to drag me here,” he muttered, his voice scratchy and low.

Still talking like an idiot.

You avoided his eyes, focusing instead on the stubborn bloodstain on his forehead. “Right, because leaving you to bleed out on the street was the better option.”

He tried to smirk—of course, he did—but winced instead when you pressed the cloth a little too hard against his brow. You pulled back quickly, a flash of guilt crossing your face, but you didn’t apologize.

“Do you always get yourself into this kind of trouble?” The question wasn’t even genuine. It was more of an observation. Every time you saw him, he was banged up. It was ridiculous. No one got into this many fights by accident.

What if it hadn’t been you who found him? What if he’d collapsed? Hit his head? Then what?

How could anyone be so damn reckless?

“All the time,” he said, his tone laced with smugness. It made you grit your teeth. Was he trying to kill himself, or was he just this dense?

You tended to his wounds in silence, simmering with a frustration you couldn’t quite place. Was it because you considered this idiot a friend? Or because this idiot had come dangerously close to getting himself killed tonight?

When you were done, you began gathering up the dirty gauze and supplies. He shifted, trying to sit up.

“If Nurse shift is over, I’ll be on my way now,” he said, gripping the edge of the tub for support. The first-aid kit slipped from your hands as you turned, catching him just before he fell over.

“Yeah, about that—you’re not going anywhere.”

His brows knitted together in defiance, but you shoved him back gently until he was sitting on the toilet. You needed him to stay put while you cleaned up. Like a dog told to sit and stay.

“You don’t get to decide that,” he snapped.

You threw the last piece of gauze into the trash, pointing a sharp finger at him. “Well, it looks like you can’t decide either. You can’t even walk straight. Stop being an idiot.”

He huffed and fell silent, though his scowl remained firmly in place. He might hate being told what to do, but you weren’t about to let him stumble back onto the street like this. You were better than that.

When you finished cleaning up, you walked over and tried to help him to his feet. Of course, he made it as difficult as possible, practically deadweight in your arms, until he finally relented and started cooperating.

You led him to the guest room and helped him onto the bed. He smirked, gesturing to the large, king-sized mattress. “Nice digs. Didn’t know I rated five stars.”

You rolled your eyes, too tired to engage. He was infuriating sometimes, but there was no way you were kicking him out. Not in this state. He needed time to recover.

“Don’t even think about sneaking out,” you warned, watching him settle into the bed. He didn’t respond, just stared at the ceiling, a blank expression on his face.

You waited for a sarcastic comeback, but none came. As you reached the door, you hesitated, glancing back at him.

You hated yourself for it—for caring so damn much.

“Who did this?”

When JJ finally opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, you heard him exhale deeply. If this was a Kook thing, you knew you could handle it. Hell, you’d even get your lawyer uncle involved if it came to that.

“It doesn’t matter.” His dismissive tone made you take a step closer, stopping about a meter from the bed with your arms crossed. All he had to do was say the word—accept a little help for once in his life. But of course, that wasn’t his style. JJ had to deal with things on his own. Always.

“I can help—”

“You can’t help me!” He cut you off, raising his voice as he started to sit up. For a brief moment, you seriously considered shoving him back down into the mattress. Sometimes you hated him so much—

“Stuff like this happens to Pogues. It’s just how it is. You’re a Kook, so sit back and observe like you’re supposed to. Stop asking questions.”

His words, paired with the attitude he wore like armor, had you rolling your eyes as you let out a bitter laugh. You paced the room, trying to shake off the frustration boiling under your skin.

“Always with this Kook-Pogue bullshit! Since when is helping someone in need such a crime? Was I supposed to leave you to die in the street?”

JJ laughed then, sharp and manic, nodding as if you’d said the most logical thing in the world. “Yes! That’s exactly what you should’ve done! God, you’re so annoying. I can’t deal with you right now.”

And this is someone you called a friend.

That motherfucker.

There wasn’t even a reason for him to be mad at you. You weren’t the one who’d beaten him up. You weren’t the one who put him in this position. You were just trying to help. But this was what happened when you cared for someone who didn’t deserve it.

You stared at him, shaking your head. The disappointment you felt wasn’t just in him—it was in yourself. You’d gone so far as to consider this idiot your friend. It made you sick.

“Don’t worry. You won’t have to see my annoying face anymore. I’m moving to the mainland, jerk.” Turning on your heel, you walked toward the door, ready to be done with this.

JJ could be… JJ. Sometimes that meant he lashed out at the wrong people, taking his anger out on those who didn’t deserve it. He hated showing weakness, hated sharing his struggles. Even though he knew you were only trying to help, he didn’t want you to see him like this. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be seen.

Hearing your name fall from his lips stopped you in your tracks. You turned back to face him, your expression unreadable. The anger that had burned in his eyes moments ago had vanished. He just looked…tired.

“I’m not running away.” His eyes met yours, and the ridiculousness of his statement was almost laughable. He should’ve been apologizing, but of course, he couldn’t even manage that.

“My dad. I’m mad at my dad, not you. I’m sorry. You’re not annoying—well, you are, but not in a way I can’t handle. And… thanks.”

The words spilled out of him so fast that all you could do was nod in response. His constant mood swings—he had to be bipolar or something.

You thought about leaving the room. You hated him, you really did, but at the same time, you understood him. And you hated yourself even more for that. It made you want to throttle him.

You stepped closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving you. “If you ever yell at me like that again, I will bury you right here.” Your tone was sharp, dripping with warning.

A faint smirk tugged at JJ’s lips as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Stay awake for a while.” He nodded again, but his brows furrowed as he looked around the room.

“How? Is this some kind of anti-tech isolation chamber or something? There’s nothing here to keep me awake—besides you.”

You rolled your eyes, not in the mood to humor him. “Not a chance.”

JJ sighed dramatically, tossing his head back. You knew if you left, he’d fall asleep immediately. And there you stood by the door, arms crossed, debating what to do. His reckless attitude tested your patience more than you liked to admit. You didn’t even know why you were still here. You didn’t want to stay, but leaving him like this felt… wrong.

After the way he’d acted, he deserved every bit of the mess he was in. Honestly, he should’ve been thanking you for not shoving his smug attitude down his throat.

JJ let out a heavy sigh, still staring at the ceiling. “If you’re not leaving, at least hand me that bottle.” He nodded toward the water bottle on the nightstand.

You narrowed your eyes at him, not moving. “Who said I wasn’t leaving?”

Your own bluntness surprised you, but JJ’s smirk only made you angrier. “Of course,” he said lightly, like it was nothing worth debating.

You couldn’t see yourself staying much longer. Not without wanting to strangle him. But as you turned, JJ cleared his throat.

“The mainland, huh? For the baby?”

You wanted to yell at him, to throw his earlier anger right back in his face, but you were too tired. You just wanted this night to end. You’d already dealt with enough of his drama.

“Yes. And by the way, it’s a girl.”

JJ turned to look at you, his eyebrows shooting up as a slow grin spread across his face. “Thank God. Nobody could survive a second Rafe Cameron.”

Normally, that comment would’ve pissed you off, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. He wasn’t wrong. One Rafe was bad enough—no one needed a second.

“If you need anything there, let me know,” he said.

You nodded, knowing he meant it.

The two of you sat in silence for a while. You realized then how hard it would be for him to stay awake with nothing to do in this empty room. If it were you, you’d have fallen asleep immediately.

“So… wanna play games on my phone?”

432 notes · View notes

pascalislove · 3 months ago

Text

BOSS

PARING: SEOK-WOO X READER

Summary: You made a mistake by correcting him in a meeting, now you must face the consequences.

Warning: (18+), coarse language, unprotected sex (wrap it before you touch it!), piv, desk sex, office sex.

Working for Seok-woo wasn't easy. He was demanding, punctual, meticulous to the point of seeming like a machine designed for success. Ever since I was assigned as his personal assistant, my days were marked by his schedule. But over time, I learned there was more to it than that. There was more behind his firm voice, more in his silences.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with the elegant bearing of a man accustomed to being obeyed. His always dark, perfectly tailored suits contrasted with his serious, controlled expression. His black hair fell impeccably over his forehead, his lips were straight, and his dark eyes left no room for misinterpretation. He didn't tolerate mistakes, much less disrespect.

And yet, I had done it.

That day, during a meeting with the executives, I inadvertently interrupted him.

—With all due respect, Director Seok-woo, the data you mentioned is from the previous quarter,—I said, concentrating on the reports.

Silence.

His gaze fixed on me. Tense. Cold.

He nodded, barely, and continued with the presentation without correcting me or showing any emotion.

But I noticed it.

And I knew I wouldn't let it go.

That night, the office lights were dim. Everyone had already left. I was finishing organizing some documents when my cell phone vibrated. His name appeared on the screen.

—Come to my office,—he ordered simply. I grabbed the papers and, almost instinctively, the bento box I'd ordered in case he forgot dinner.

I walked to his office in silence, the echo of my footsteps echoing through the empty hallways.

Knock.

—Go ahead! —he said in a low voice.

I walked in and saw him. He was leaning against his desk, his back turned, talking on the phone. He was smiling.

A real smile.

—Of course, honey. Tell Grandma I'll pick you up tomorrow. I love you. —he said, and when he turned around, he saw me. The smile disappeared immediately.

—See you, princess —he added before hanging up the call.

—Here are the documents you requested—I murmured, approaching—. And I brought him something for dinner. I thought… he hadn't eaten.

He nodded without looking at me.

—Thank you.

I turned to leave, but I'd barely taken a step when his hand caught my wrist. Hard. It didn't hurt, but his grip was clear: he wasn't going to let me go.

He stood up, his imposing figure dwarfing everything around me. He walked slowly until my back hit his desk. His body was facing mine. Almost touching.

—Who gave you permission to correct me in front of my managers?

His voice was low. Deep. A whisper laden with tension.

—I… just wanted to help—I said, feeling the warmth of his closeness.

—Help? —His face was dangerously close to mine—. You think that was helpful? You contradicted me. You challenged me. Is that how you want me to see you? As someone who challenges me in front of everyone?

—It wasn't my intention… —I whispered.

He laughed, without humor.

—Always so obedient, so proper… until today. I wonder if you're forgetting your place.

His fingers slid from my wrist to my waist, slowly and deliberately. Then his hands rested on either side of my body, trapping me between the desk and his chest.

—Do you have any idea what you're doing when you do something like that?

My breathing became agitated.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I didn't dare.

—Look at me—ordered.

I looked up. His eyes were a blazing fire.

—When everyone leaves... you know what happens. You know who owns you.

He leaned toward me. His lips brushed mine. Just that. A minimal touch, laden with unspoken intentions. As if he wanted to prove he could take more… but wouldn't. Not yet.

—Don't do that again. Do you understand?

I nodded. Shaking, but firm.

And he smiled. Not out of tenderness. But out of control. Knowing that, even without kissing me, he already had me.

After saying that, Seok-woo picked you up firmly and sat you on the table. His lips sought yours with suppressed desire, but they barely touched your skin before straying to your neck. With determined hands, he opened your shirt and began placing wet kisses on your collarbone, causing you to throw your head back, letting out a sigh heavy with anticipation.

Your eyes searched for his, longing for a kiss that never came. You leaned forward to reach for him, but he stopped, looking down at you with a cocky smile.

—Today you don't deserve kisses —he whispered in a low, deep voice.

A frustrated moan escaped your lips, and he laughed mockingly, caressing your cheek with his knuckles.

—Mmm... don't pout, beautiful.—he added, enjoying your expression.

Undeterred, you began to slowly unbutton his shirt, brushing your fingertips over his muscles. Your lips moved down his neck, placing small kisses as he slid a hand under your skirt. With a determined movement, he pushed your panties to the side and began caressing your clit with gentle, almost tortuous movements.

Your body reacted instantly, clinging to his shoulders as you moaned into his neck, your breath caught in your throat. Seok-woo pulled away to watch your face, reveling in your expression of pleasure. Then, without warning, he slid a finger inside you and began to move with slow thrusts, continuing to stimulate your clit with his thumb.

You held onto him tightly as moans escaped your lips. Your body shuddered, growing closer to climax, and he felt it clearly as you began to clench around his fingers. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled out abruptly, drawing a frustrated moan from you.

—Not so fast —He said with a crooked smile, as he lifted your skirt higher and unbuttoned his pants.

He pulled out his already hard member, stroking himself slowly as he watched you. Then he aligned himself with your entrance and, without warning, entered you in one thrust. You clutched his shoulders with a loud moan, and he murmured in your ear:

—This will teach you not to question me again.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, overwhelmed with pleasure, and you whispered to him between gasps:

—I'm... I'm cumming...

—Oh really? —He replied playfully. At that moment, he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and frustrated again.

A moan escaped your throat. Before you could react, he pulled you off the table, firmly turned you around, and pressed your chest against the desk. He lifted your skirt again and thrust into you again, deeper and faster this time. Your moans filled the room, and he pulled you close and pressed your back against his torso, murmuring in your ear:

—Don't do that again, you hear me?

With your voice barely audible from pleasure, you asked him:

—Will you kiss me again...?

—Yeah —He replied without stopping.

—Okay, boss... it won't happen again...—you gasped, trembling with pleasure.

He smiled and kissed your cheek tenderly, continuing to move inside you. Then, he slid one of his hands down to your clit and began stroking it in gentle circles.

—It's... too much... —you murmured, your body on the verge of collapse.

—You can cum, baby. —he whispered.

And you did, climaxing with an intensity that made your whole body shake. Soon after, he followed with a few last deep thrusts, moaning your name.

Then he turned your face towards his and finally kissed you, deep, slow, as if sealing everything he had just made you feel.

And that night, the city witnessed a silent storm within four walls, where desire, tension, and power intertwined in every breath.

I use the seller's tags and other characters so they appear to you.🫦

MASTERLIST

#gong yoo x reader #gong yoo #gong yoo x you #salesman x reader #the salesman x reader #train to busan #seok woo x reader #gong jicheol #squid game

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goyardgoyangi · 1 month ago

Text

𐙚 busy woman pt. 3 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⌗ pairings: eren x reader, slight! erwin x reader

⌗ summary: you don’t believe in fate, but you do believe in probability. the odds of running into a stupidly attractive guy at a highly competitive internship interview? low. the odds of him rejecting you? …higher. the odds of ending up in the same program — and on the same project team after all that? practically zero. and yet, here you are.

⌗ word count: 3.4k

♥ pt. 3 ♥ masterlist ♥

You’re starting to think the universe has a personal vendetta against you.

Because despite your very best efforts to keep things professional—to pretend that Eren Yeager is just another intern, just another face in the sea of overachieving college students trying to make it in corporate America, he keeps finding ways to worm himself into your life.

Case in point:

“Alright, teams,” your manager announces at the end of the weekly check-in. “For this next sprint, we’re pairing up for a deep-dive project. Deliverables are due in two weeks, so make sure you’re coordinating closely.”

You’re barely listening, already skimming through your notes, mentally calculating how much work you’ll need to do over the weekend to stay ahead.

And then—

“Pairings are up in the Slack channel,” the manager continues. “Alright, that’s all for today!”

Laptops snap shut. Chairs scrape against the floor as everyone starts packing up. You casually open Slack, expecting to see a random name beside yours.

No. Of course not. Because that would be too easy.

Instead, right there, bolded in neat little text— of course, has your name listed next to the "& Eren Yeager."

You stare at the screen.

You scroll back. Refresh. Check the file name. Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe this is a sick joke. Maybe you opened the wrong document.

But there it is. Again. Your name, tied to his like a cruel punchline.

You flick your gaze across the room.

He’s already looking at you.

Chin propped in his hand, like he’d been watching. Like he knew this was coming. Like he’s been waiting for the moment you realized.

His lips twitch into the smallest, most insufferable smile.

You want to throw your laptop across the room. You want to throw him across the room.

Sasha peers over your shoulder and whistles. “Oh. Good luck with that.”

You groan, shoving your laptop into your bag like it personally betrayed you. “I’m really going to need it.”

She pats your back sympathetically before bouncing off to meet her own partner. Meanwhile, you’re bracing yourself as Eren stands, stretching lazily before slinging his bag over one shoulder.

“Well,” he drawls, stopping in front of your desk. “Guess you’re stuck with me. Again”

You exhale sharply through your nose, pushing your chair back. “Guess so.”

“Try not to look too excited.”

You scowl, standing up. “I’ll try my best.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “When are you free to meet?”

You pull out your phone and skim your schedule. “I have some time tomorrow afternoon. I can book a meeting room at three?”

Eren hums, tilting his head slightly, like he’s thinking. Then—

“Nah. Let’s go somewhere else.”

You blink. “Where else would we have a meeting... if not in a meeting room?”

“The café down the street,” he says. “Better ambiance. Fewer people than in the office.”

You hesitate. You could argue, keep things strictly professional. But the idea of a sweet treat and something warm to drink while working through soul-draining corporate tasks sounds… kind of nice.

“…Fine.” You sigh, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Three o’clock.”

Eren grins. “Looking forward to it.”

You walk off before he can say anything else, but as you leave, you can still feel him watching you.

And for the first time in weeks, you can’t tell if you’re dreading tomorrow— or looking forward to it.

You don’t know why you’re nervous.

It’s just a meeting. A work-related, professional, totally normal meeting.

And yet, as you approach the café, you feel the beginnings of unease settle in your stomach. Maybe it’s because this is the first time you’ll be alone with Eren outside of the office. Maybe it’s because, despite your best efforts, you haven’t been able to shake the lingering awareness of him— of his glances, his smirks, the way he always seems too entertained by your reactions.

Or maybe it’s because some small, irrational part of you is still clinging to the memory of the rejection. The way he’d shut you down without hesitation.

You shake the thought away as you step inside.

The café is warm, the scent of coffee and pastries hanging in the air. You scan the room quickly, spotting Eren near the back, already seated at a small table. He’s dressed more casually today— sleeves rolled up, hair pulled into a loose bun, silver rings glinting on his annoyingly attractive hands as he idly taps his fingers against the table.

You steel yourself and walk over.

“You always pick the back corner?” you ask, setting your bag down before sliding into the seat across from him.

Eren looks up, smirking slightly. “Best view in the room.”

You glance around, skeptical. “Of what? The exit sign?”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Didn’t say I was looking at the décor.”

You blink, caught slightly off guard by his tone— but you don’t press it. Instead, you pull out your laptop, trying to stay focused.

He nods at the gesture, but doesn’t move for his bag. Instead, he leans back, head tilting slightly as he nods toward the counter. “You thinking of getting anything?”

You hesitate, eyeing the pastry case. “Maybe. Still deciding.”

“What do you usually go for?” he presses— but there’s a quiet curiosity beneath it.

You glance at him, a little wary. “Strawberry matcha, usually. And... that Nutella croissant looks good.”

His smirk grows, subtle but unmistakably smug. “Knew it.”

Your brows lift. “You knew?”

He’s already pushing back his chair. “Took a guess when I saw the menu. I’ll get you both. I wanted the Nutella croissant too.”

You blink. “Wait— are you sure?”

Eren nods, already walking toward the counter. “Yeah. I’ll grab my coffee while I’m at it. Easier if I just pay for everything.”

And even though you should be reviewing project notes or pulling up the presentation while he’s at the counter, your brain is annoyingly hyper-aware of him— of the way the barista seems a little too interested in him, of the easy way he leans against the counter as he waits.

You force yourself to look away. Focus.

By the time he returns, sliding your coffee across the table, you’ve managed to pull up a shared document.

“Alright,” you say briskly, “let’s start by breaking down the deliverables.”

Eren hums, taking a sip of his own drink. “So serious.”

You shoot him a look. “That’s kind of the point of this, isn’t it?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Relax. We’ve got time.”

You resist the urge to groan. “Eren.”

“Alright, alright,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Let’s get to work.”

And to your surprise, he actually does.

The next few hours pass by smoothly. Eren, despite his usual laid-back demeanor, is sharp, quick to pick up on details, throwing out ideas that you begrudgingly admit are good. The conversation flows easier than expected, and for the first time, you feel yourself settling into something… comfortable.

Then—

“You always this tense?”

You glance up from your screen, brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

Eren leans forward slightly, studying you with an unreadable expression. “You’re always on edge around me.”

Your grip tightens around your cup. “I am not.”

He tilts his head. “You sure?”

You sigh, looking away. “We’re working. That’s all this is.”

Eren hums, but he doesn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”

The air shifts, something unspoken hanging between you. You don’t like it, you definitely don’t want to acknowledge it, so you do what you do best.

You ignore it.

The next few days pass in a blur.

Despite everything, the two of you fall into a rhythm. The tasks have already been divided. You both know what needs to be done, and Eren’s competent (frustratingly so), and it makes it easier to ignore the tension that simmers beneath the surface.

Mostly.

You’d love to pretend you’re fine, casual even, but it’s hard to ignore the way your skin prickles every time you feel his gaze settle on you.

No matter how hard you try to bury yourself in work, drown in project tasks, or choke down scheduled meetings— nothing is enough to keep you from running into Eren again.

Like today.

You’re crammed into a small meeting room with the rest of your team, laptops open, diagrams pulled up on the screen, conversation moving quickly from one update to the next. You’re halfway through explaining a revision to the prototype data structure when the door creaks open.

And there he is.

He steps in like he owns the place, long frame filling the doorway, hair loose around his shoulders, sleeves pushed up, lanyard half tucked into the pocket of his jeans.

You freeze. Of course, he would come in now.

He doesn’t even speak— just lifts a brow slightly, like you were the one interrupting him.

He looks around the room, slow and unhurried, before setting his laptop down on the table and taking a seat next to you, much to your dismay.

And then— he smiles.

Not big. Not wide. Just enough to say, Yeah, I know you saw me.

You grit your teeth and pretend to refocus on the screen, willing yourself not to notice the way his presence seems to take up more space than it should. You can feel the heat of him beside you, his scent, woodsy and clean, is way too close for comfort.

And you hate it. You’re supposed to be focused on the project, on your career, on your goals. Not him.

You arrive at the office the next morning with a game plan: ignore, deflect, and work. No distractions. No unnecessary interactions. No Eren Yeager.

But as luck would have it, within the first hour, that plan goes to hell.

It starts small— his gaze lingering on you when your team gathers for the daily check-in, the way he seems way too at ease in your proximity. Then comes the subtle, almost imperceptible smirk when you fumble with your professionalism as if he was waiting for you to finally slip up— to react to him.

You don’t. You won’t. Except you do— when you’re forced to spend the entire afternoon stuck in a tiny meeting room with him, reviewing an important deliverable of the project together.

You sit at opposite ends of the table, both typing away on your laptops, silence stretching between you. It should be comfortable—just two interns in the same stage of life, work towards the same goals, spending precious time of their youth working together as comrades— but it isn’t. There’s an unspoken awareness, or in your case, awkwardness, that makes the air feel heavier than it should.

Eventually, you exhale sharply, breaking the silence. “Look, can you just—” You pause, searching for the right words.

Eren finally looks up, one brow slightly raised. “Just what?”

“Stop making this weird.”

His lips twitch, like he’s amused that you think you have control over that. “I’m not making it weird.”

You give him a flat look. “You literally brought up asking me you out. In front of everyone. In front of our boss.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “You brought it up first.”

Your jaw drops. “I— no, I didn’t!”

“You called it ‘unfortunate probability.’”

“That’s not bringing it up, that’s just—” You inhale sharply, cutting yourself off. You refuse to engage in this ridiculous back-and-forth with him. You are a professional. A serious intern, someone’s here to get a return offer.

Eren, however, is entirely unbothered, watching you with that same lazy amusement. “Relax,” he says. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter under your breath, turning back to your screen.

Silence settles again, but this time, it’s charged. You try to focus, but you can feel his gaze flicker to you every now and then, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll talk back, to give a reaction first.

Again, you repeat the same mantra. You don’t. You won’t.

But this time, he speaks first.

“So, why’d you do it?”

You blink. “Do what?”

He tilts his head slightly, long strands of hair beautifully framing his face. “Ask me out.”

Your heart stops. How can someone annoying be so natrually handsome? Then starts again— way too fast for your liking.

You should learn from your mistakes last week’s team lunch and this time actually tell a lie. Say it was a dare. Say anything that will downplay the sheer mortification of that moment. But again, you blurt out the truth before you can stop yourself.

“I don’t know. You just seemed interesting.”

More like infuriatingly hot, but also not a lie. There was something about him that day, something about his quiet confidence, his complete indifference to the high-stakes nature of the last step of being hired— the behavioral interview, like he already knew he had it in the bag. It annoyed you. It intrigued you.

Eren studies you for a beat, like he’s weighing your words. Then, to your utter disbelief, he grins.

“What?” you demand, suspicious.

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head, still smirking. “Just funny, that’s all.”

You narrow your eyes. “Funny how?”

But before he can answer, the door swings open and one of your team members pokes their head in, asking about a deadline.

The moment breaks.

Eren turns back to his laptop, looking perfectly at ease, while you sit there, heart hammering, feeling like you just lost some sort of invisible battle.

You don’t know what game he’s playing. But you have a feeling that Eren is messing with you. There’s no other explanation.

Ever since that meeting room conversation— ever since you stupidly admitted he seemed interesting— he’s been acting different. Not outright obnoxious, but just devious enough to genuinely annoy you.

Like now.

Your team is gathered in a shared workspace, casually going over project updates. You’re hyper-focused on your laptop, taking notes as your team lead speaks, to avoid feeling it— his gaze.

You don’t have to look to know it’s him. You just know.

And it’s distracting.

“So,” Eren’s voice cuts through the discussion, completely unprompted. “You’re a statistics person, right?”

You freeze.

Slowly, you look up. He’s leaning back in his chair, looking far too entertained.

“…Yeah?” you say warily.

Eren nods, like he’s deep in thought. “So, statistically speaking, what do you think the odds are of us running into each other again after this internship?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Jean snorts from across the table. “Damn, Yeager. You applying probability theory to your love life now?”

Sasha perks up immediately. “Wait, why? Are you planning on running into her again?”

Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.

You’re going to kill him.

Eren, unfazed, shrugs. “Just curious.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to decipher his angle. Is he teasing you? Is this payback? Or is he just naturally inclined to be the most insufferable person you’ve ever met?

Probably all three.

“I wouldn’t know,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even. “Maybe I’ll run a regression model on it later.”

Sasha gasps, delighted. “Ooh, academic flirtation. I love it.”

You shoot her a please stop look, but she’s having too much fun at your expense.

Meanwhile, Eren just hums, tilting his head slightly. “Let me know what you find.”

And then, as if he didn’t just drop that bomb, he goes right back to working, leaving you reeling.

After that bullshit of a conversation, you’re two seconds away from flipping the table and walking out. But since professionalism is still a thing, you settle for excusing yourself to grab coffee instead. The office break room is thankfully empty when you step inside. You exhale sharply, pressing your palms against the counter. What is his problem?

The way Eren keeps pushing at you, throwing you off balance— it’s getting unbearable.

Worse, you can’t even tell if he’s doing it on purpose or if this is just who he is. Maybe life is fair after all, being as endowed in the looks and brains department can’t come without sacrifices— his unbearable personality.

Maybe your girlfriends were onto something when they said that men were more handsome before they opened their mouths.

You’re starting to understand the appeal of a silent, brooding type. At least they don’t make you want to throw things every time they speak.

Is this some sort of game for him? To see how much you can take before you snap?

You shake your head, reaching for a coffee pod and shoving it into the machine with more force than necessary.

“Damn. What did the Keurig do to you?”

Your whole body tenses.

Of course. Of course.

You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

He reaches for a cup, and for a second, you swear he’s deliberately moving slow, drawing out the moment to stand behind you, towering over your frame.

You can feel his presence, radiating off him like heat, and it makes your skin prickle in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

Fuck, what if he sees a gray hair? You probably have one from all the stress he’s giving you. Maybe more than one. It wouldn’t be surprising— this feels like the kind of situation that would age you by ten years in a single afternoon.

You force yourself to focus, stirring your drink slowly, keeping your gaze fixed on the cup. You don’t want to look up, don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction. But his voice is there, always there, like it’s in your head, too.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” you ask, your tone a little sharper than you intended, but you refuse to back down.

Eren tilts his head, and you can hear the amusement in his voice. “You trying to get rid of me that quickly?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. This is exactly why you’ve been avoiding him. The way he’s so easy, so confident, like he knows he can mess with you and you won’t say a word.

You take a long sip, as if the simple action could cool the rising heat in your chest.

“Well,” you say, voice flat as you put the cup back down with a little too much force. “I’m not in the mood for your… whatever this is.”

For a moment, his expression falters, like you’ve caught him off guard. His eyes flicker, just briefly, and you can tell something shifts in him, like your irritation has actually affected him more than he’d like to admit.

He straightens up, running a hand through his hair, looking at you with something more genuine in his gaze. “Oh—” He pauses, taking a breath, and you can see him trying to recalibrate. “I wasn’t trying to make you mad, just wanted to get your attention. I don’t... want you pissed off at me.”

You exhale slowly, trying to keep yourself composed, but the words are out before you can stop them: “You’ve been doing this for weeks, Eren. It’s not funny anymore. It’s... it’s not a joke when you keep teasing me in front of everyone, in front of our boss. It’s embarrassing.”

His eyes widen, the sincerity in them growing, but you’re not interested in that right now.

“I’m not just here to entertain you,” you continue, your voice shaky now, and you curse yourself internally for letting it slip. “Being here is really important to me, and I’m just trying to get things done. But you keep making me feel like an idiot in front of people. It’s not just you anymore. It’s your whole attitude and... I can’t even—” You cut yourself off, frustrated tears threatening to spill. God, not now.

His face softens, but you’re already stepping back, gripping your drink tighter like it could hold you together. You feel small.

And worse, you’re starting to feel like you’ve just become another punchline in his little game.

Eren steps back, eyes searching yours, but you don’t meet his gaze. You’re not sure what he expects from you now. You don’t even know what you expect now. An apology? A hug?

Instead, all you feel is the knot in your throat tightening. You don’t want to cry here, not in front of him. So, you just force out a small breath and pretend like everything is fine again.

#eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager x you #aot x reader

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himbo-kuto · 4 months ago

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idol!reader x artist!rafayel

reader is performing a song with some suggestive lyrics to hundreds and thousands of people.

(visuals: one, two, three)

caleb | rafayel | zayne | sylus | xavier

you were excited when your manager got the call for you to perform at the water bomb concert this year. you’ve gone plenty of times for your fellow idol friends and had such a good time that it made you want to perform that much more. although one person who wasn’t too ecstatic was your beloved boyfriend. not because he wasn’t happy for you and the opportunity, but because he knew your full wet body would be up there for thousands of people to see.

“raf please–” he huffed as he turned away from you, the biggest pout forming on his lips. you rolled your eyes at his antics, knowing it was just all drama.

“people are going to see something only i get to see!” you laughed as you hugged him from behind. you chuckled softly knowing that even if he was serving his dramatics, he relaxed into your embrace.

“you act as though i’m getting naked up there– i’m going to be wearing a bathing suit and a cover-up obviously. my wardrobe team wouldn’t let me have some sort of malfunction up there.” you patted his chest, signaling him to turn around. once met with his gaze, you leaned up and gave him a kiss. you squished his cheeks together, making him look like a little fishie.

“don’t worry, what is yours still is and will always be that– yours.” he finally cracked a smile as he gave you the hug you’ve been waiting for. he nuzzled his nose into your neck, giving it a light kiss.

“good. that’s what i like to hear.”

turns out it was not so good to hear.

he watched from the sidelines where he and your friends stood. he had to keep his hand under his own chin to keep his jaw from dropping on the floor performance after performance. you had obviously started out as dry a bone but as you kept performing, you quickly became drenched in water. whether it was from your dancers, the audience, the sprayers on stage, the massive water canons– no matter how wet you got, you were ethereal in rafayel's eyes. of course you were, you were rafayel’s lemurian princess after all.

although, it didn’t help that your so called ‘cover up’ was now doing more ‘showing off’ as it hugged to your wet figure. you had decided on a typical triangle bikini with some high rise shorts that also clung to your body in all the right places. he could’ve sworn that everyone was making you more wet on purpose.

“linkon, let me hear you!” you held out your microphone to the crowd as they cheered in response. you had one last song to go and you were beyond excited for more than one reason.

“this is my first time attending a water bomb and i really hope you all enjoyed vibing with me.” everyone including rafayel all screamed at the top of their lungs.

“i need everyone load up your water guns because i want to be sopping wet by the time this song is over” you laughed as you watched them both cheer and fill up their water guns at the same time . you’d be remiss if you didn’t sing a song about getting wet at the water bomb concert.

“i want to dedicate my final stage to the biggest pain in my ass, but also my biggest supporter. you know who you are.” you looked into the camera that was showing your face on the big screen, giving it a wink before getting into place with your dancers. the first notes from tyla’s water starting playing and the way the audience all jumped to their feet made you smile till your cheeks hurt.

you were thankful that they set the stage up in an ‘E’ formation cause not only could you perform in the middle, you could also walk down the sides as well. you continued singing the verse as you fiercely made your way over to rafayel’s side. he watched you intensely as he saw you approaching. he leaned ever so slightly over the barricade, trying anything to be closer to you even just for a second. he pursed his lips, giving you an air kiss. a smile grazed your lips as you grabbed the ‘kiss’ in the air, giving a little slap to your butt as you reached the end of the chorus.

Make me sweat, make me hotter Make me lose my breath, make me water Make me sweat, make me hotter Make me lose my breath, make me water

of course you had to do the viral choreography from tiktok. you had a water bottle in hand, ready to pour down your back and the way everyone from rafayel, the audience, your dancers, the sprayers all drenched your backside as if they were all thinking the same thing.

it made you laugh out loud so much that you couldn’t get the last of the words out. you heard rafayel laugh along with you, feeling the enjoyment that you were. turns out jokes on him, because the garment began weighing you down. you shot a smirk in his direction as you undid the knot that (barely) kept it together. you slowly peeled off the sleeves which caused the crowd to go crazy. rafayel went silent as you tossed the drenched top over in his direction.

your whole wet cleavage and back were on full display and rafayel had to hold back from going absolutely feral. it didn’t help that you knew exactly what you were doing to him– you two were linked after all and what fun it would be knowing how each other felt, if you didn’t mess with him a little.

“thank you linkon for making me oh, so wet! you’ve been amazing.”

—

bonus:

you laid back against rafayel in the tub as you let the hot water soothe your aching bones. it was worth all the long nights of practice but it was all catching up with you now. rafayel knew you could’ve used a bath after all that cold water (not to mention the many rounds that had transpired after you got back home).

“see? it wasn’t that bad.” you said, tilting your head back to look at him. he immediately scoffed in response, turning his body so he could fully look at you.

“not that bad? not that bad?? my love, there was a suggestion of fabric covering your chest first of all, and then you go and take off the only thing that was remotely keeping them concealed and proceed to throw it at me!” you cracked up, clapping your hand against his chest as you nuzzled into his neck. ah, did you love this man and teasing the heck out of him.

“oh no you don’t– don’t try and weasel your way out of this one, cutie!” you pulled back, giving him a deadpan look.

“raf, i’m literally sitting in the tub with you, no fabric covering my chest, littered with all your hickies that my makeup team will freaking kill me for.” he proudly smirked at that one. he looked down at your chest, lightly running his fingers over all the marks that he indeed did leave.

“well of course i had to! everyone saw what was mine. so if they’re eager to see it again, they’ll make no mistake who is yours–”

“you do understand we’re bound for life right–” he put one of his hands up by your face, while the other one was pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically.

“it’s not enough!” you rolled your eyes, biting his hand shortly after. he yelped in surprise as he brought that hand back to his chest in defense.

“now they’ll know that you’re mine!”

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #rafayel #lads rafayel #qi yu #love and deepspace rafayel #lnds rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lnds x reader #rafayel x reader #lads fluff #lnds fluff #rafayel x reader fluff #lads rafayel x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #love and deepspace rafayel x reader

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lxndonorris · 1 year ago

Text

home race - Oscar Piastri

Y/N x Oscar Piastri Theme: Smut (you've been warned) you're in a long-distance relationship with Oscar and surprise him at his "home race" x word count: 3250+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :) EN: Another big piece and I hope you'll like it. My first time writing Oscar.

You sat in your living room, staring at your phone. The screen displayed a countdown timer you set months ago when you and Oscar, your boyfriend, decided you could handle a long-distance relationship.

Living in the United States while dating a Formula 1 driver based in Europe wasn't easy, but the two of you made it work. You spoke every day, sent each other thoughtful gifts, and cherished the moments you could spend together in person.

The countdown finally hit zero. It is time for your big surprise.

Oscar is in Monaco for the Grand Prix, and you planned to surprise him for months since the season started. You told him you wouldn't be able to make it due to work commitments, but in reality, you managed to arrange everything perfectly, with a little help from the Mclaren Team.

You had your flights booked, your accommodation sorted, and a special pass that would allow you into the Mclaren motorhome, where Oscar would eventually be.

When you boarded your flight, you felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. You knew how much this surprise would mean to Oscar. The past few months have been challenging for him, dealing with the pressures of being a professional F! driver while missing you. You wanted to make this moment unforgettable.

After a long flight and a quick check-in at your hotel in Monaco, you head straight to the racetrack. You are wearing a Mclaren team hoodie, jeans, and a fitting cap, blending in with the team. You find your way to the motorhome and, with the help of a team member who is in on the surprise, get inside and wait for Oscar.

The atmosphere in Monaco is electric. The sun shines brightly over the azure waters of the Mediterranean, and the roar of engines echoes through the narrow streets of the city. The Monaco Grand Prix is one of the most prestigious races on the calendar, and the excitement is palpable.

The qualifying session just ends, and he pushes his car to the limit and secures second place on the grid. The team is ecstatic, and Oscar feels a rush of adrenaline as he climbs out of the car, waving to the cheering fans.

Inside the motorhome, your heart races as you finally hear footsteps approaching. The door opens, and you turn around to see Oscar standing there, a look of shock and disbelief on his face.

"Y/N? Is that really you?" Oscar's voice trembles with emotion.

You smile, your eyes filling with tears.

"Surprise!"

Oscar closes the distance between you in an instant, wrapping you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling your familiar scent, and holds you as if he never wants to let go.

At the same time, the faint scent of him swirls around you, and with a deep breath, you take it in, closing your eyes for a second to relish in this moment.

"What are you doing here?" He murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe you're here."

"I wanted to be here for you, at your home race." You say softly. "I've missed you so much, Oscar Piastri Leclerc."

Both of you pull back slightly to look at each other, your eyes meeting with an intensity that speaks volumes. Oscar cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that escape down your cheeks.

"I've missed you too, Y/N. More than you can imagine."

You kiss—a tender and passionate kiss that seems to make up for all the time you spent apart.

When you finally break apart, Oscar can't stop smiling.

"You look amazing in that Mclaren gear," he says, his eyes roaming all over you as they sparkle with admiration.

You chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I have to show my support for my favorite driver."

As you stand facing each other, the air between you seems to be charged with electricity. You feel the tension and excitement from qualifying still radiating off Oscar.

Tentatively, you reach out, letting your hand run across his firm chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heaving chest beneath your fingertips. His whole body is slightly tensed, still buzzing from the adrenaline rush.

Oscar's eyes soften as he looks at you, a smile spreading across his lips.

"It's so good to see you," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

You smile back, your gaze drifting over his racing suit. "You look so good in that green and yellow racing suit, Oscar. Really, you do. It suits you perfectly."

The special suit, designed to honor Senna, clings to his frame in all the right ways, accentuating his athletic build. The vibrant colors contrast beautifully with his complexion, making him look every bit the star he is.

Oscar chuckles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Thanks. I didn't think I could pull off these colors, but hearing it from you makes me believe it."

Your fingers linger on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. "I missed you so much," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

As your hand continues to stroke his chest, you feel Oscar's hands move to your waist, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your jeans. He pulls you slightly closer; your bodies now mere inches apart. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter.

"Do you have some free time?" You ask, your voice soft and teasing, eyes glimmering with anticipation.

Oscar smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. "For you? Always."

The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile, your hand moving up to his shoulder. "Good." You breathe deeply, feeling the tension between you increase even more. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and kiss him passionately. The moment your lips meet, Oscar melts into the kiss, his arms tightening around your waist. The warmth and familiarity of the embrace make everything else disappear, leaving just the two of you in your own private world.

As the kiss deepens, you steady yourself against his firm chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. His hum of approval sends a thrill through you, and you take your time, savoring the moment, relishing the closeness you missed for far too long.

With a teasing glint in your eye, you reach for the zipper of his racing suit. Slowly, you begin to unzip it, feeling the resistance of the fabric give way. Oscar's breath hitches as you draw the zipper down to his tummy, exposing his tight black fireproofs beneath.

You let your hands slip inside, and stroke his chest. "You look so good," you murmur, your hands resting on the exposed fabric. The smooth, taut material hugs his body, accentuating his toned muscles.

Oscar's eyes darken with desire as he looks at your hands running across his chest, a mixture of amusement and longing playing on his features. "You're making it very hard to concentrate," he says, his voice low and husky.

You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his fireproofs. "Good," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss.

This time, it is slower, more deliberate; each touch and caress a reminder of the desire crackling between you.

As your kisses grow more intense, you feel the heat rising between your bodies. Oscar's hands roam over your back, pulling you even closer, as if he can't bear to let you go.

With your hands still roaming over his chest, you draw a line down to his abs, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips. Each touch elicits several low growls from deep inside his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. As you continue your exploration, Oscar leans his head back, his eyes closing as he savors the sensation.

You decide to take things a step further.

"Let me help you." You breathe deeply, gently pushing the upper half of his suit off his shoulders.

Oscar obliges, his breath hitching as you peel the fabric away, revealing more of his muscular torso. The sleeves hang down from his waist, the tight fireproofs beneath barely able to contain the immense tension building inside him.

His muscles bulge with each movement, with each breath he takes, the strain and excitement of the day evident in every contour of his body. You can't help but admire him, your hands now tracing the lines of his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin.

Oscar opens his eyes and looks at you, his gaze filled with desire and affection. "You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice rough with need.

You smile with a playful glint in your eye. "Flex for me." You reply, your fingers continuing their journey across his entire upper body.

With a mischievous grin, Oscar obliges again, flexing his arms and chest, showcasing the impressive muscles that have been honed through countless hours of training. The sight makes your heart skip a beat; a rush of admiration and desire floods through you.

"Like what you see?" he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you let your hands roam over his flexed muscles. "You have no idea," you reply, your voice filled with genuine awe.

He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling from deep inside his chest. "I'm just glad you're here to see it."

One of your hands traces the contours of his biceps, feeling the power and strength beneath your fingers, while you let your other hand roam freely across his chest and even further down to his crotch.

You feel his hunger building up inside his pants; the fabric bulges just along his member tenting visibly. With two fingers, you trace the tangible outlines of his lust again and again, eliciting more and more deep growls from his throat.

Oscar is thoroughly enjoying himself, responding to your teasing with a mixture of laughter and passion. You see the gleam in his eyes, the way he savors every touch and caress.

Then, with a bold move, you slip one of your hands underneath his fireproofs, feeling the intense heat of his skin radiating against your palm.

Oscar's breath hitches at the sensation, his eyes so dark with desire. With a swift motion, he swipes the Mclaren cap from your head and lets it drop to the floor. A playful chuckle escapes his lips as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a deep, fervent kiss.

The kiss is electric, filled with a hunger that threatens to consume you both—the long separation and the yearning that built up between you. Your fingers splay across his warm skin, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath your fingertips.

Oscar's hands roam over your back again, pulling you closer, before he takes the lead, guiding you through the room and across a huge empty wall. Gently, your back meets the wall, steadying the two of you fully.

You feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, fast and powerful, matching your own. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you locked in your passionate embrace.

His hands are now all over your chest, his touch both soft and possessive. Each caress sends waves of electricity through you, making your pulse race as far as his race car.

Oscar's kisses trail down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His lips are gentle yet insistent, making a path that sets your skin on fire. The sensation is almost overwhelming—a perfect blend of tenderness and desire that makes your heart swell with emotion.

Amidst your intimate moment, you take in Oscar's familiar scent, a comforting aroma that envelopes you in a sense of security and belonging—a mixture of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of adrenaline from the day's events, and the subtle hint of his natural scent.

Breathing him in, you feel a wave of warmth wash over you, and his scent is like a familiar embrace, making it even harder to concentrate.

Now, his hands slide underneath your hoodie, his fingertips dancing across your skin. You shiver at the sensation, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The contrast of his warm hands against the cool evening air heightens your senses, making every touch feel even more intense.

"You're amazing." Oscar breathes against your neck, his voice rough with emotion. "I need you."

Your breath hitches, your hands grip his shoulders for support as you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Oscar," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of desire and affection.

His hands roam freely now, exploring every inch of your torso with a reverent touch. You feel the strength and control in his fingers, the way he holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You arch into his touch, your own hands exploring the hard planes of his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. The fabric of his fireproofs is smooth and cool against your palms, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

"Oscar." You murmur again, your voice barely audible as you revel in the sensations he is creating. "I need you, too."

He lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"I'm right here," he replies, his voice steady yet husky.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you let out a long, exhausted sigh. At the same time, you feel one of his hands make its way down your chest and right to your jeans. In one swift motion, he unbuttons it, just to make way for his hand to slip inside.

Your breath hitches right away as you feel his fingers tracing patterns in all the right places.

Even though it's hard to keep your composure, you manage to return the favor, letting one of your hands run down his back, along his spine, around his waist, and between his legs.

As you touch him, Oscar lets out a low, primal groan, the culmination of all the teasing and desire building up between them. His response sends a thrill through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

The tension is palpable; both of you are aching for a release, craving the other's touch.

Together, you help each other undress just enough to make it work. Panting and growling, he tugs at your jeans until they are sliding down to your ankles, so his hands stroke your thighs delicately.

Then, it's your turn to help him. Pulling at the suit clinging to his skin, the two of you manage to pull his length out of his pants, just for you to hold it and play with it.

Exhausted, Oscar leans in, kissing you passionately. You melt into him, offering yourself for what's to come next.

The moment he slides inside your body, it sparks a tingling sensation inside your stomach, and you let out a low grunt. Simultaneously, he moans right into your mouth, making it even harder to keep a straight face.

He is the first to take the lead again.

With your back against the wall, he begins to grind his hips against yours, rhythmically, sensually, and it is easy for you to catch up. The two of you move in sync with one another, letting out low growls, moans, and grunts.

Your hands wander all over his chest, stroking him through his firerpoofs. Oscar's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you.

The sensation of your touch through the fabric sends waves of heat through him, encouraging him to increase the pace and strength of his thrusts. In return, he steadies himself against the wall behind you while his other hand lingers on your breasts.

Your movements are slow and deliberate; you are fully aware of his most sensitive spots, and you encourage him more and more. Pinching his nipples, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, and feeling his muscles bulge harder and hader.

Panting and moaning, Oscar's body grows stiff and rigid; unable to contain himself, he bites his lower lip before he grunts angrily.

"Fuck."

You revel in the power you have over him and the way he responds so intensely to your touch.

With each stroke, you feel him growing even more aroused, his body still tightening instinctively to your touch. His hands grip your breasts tighter, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.

The two of you move as one; every thrust sends you closer and closer to the edge, and the way he grunts deeply tells you he feels the same.

As you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know there is no turning back. Your passion burns bright, consuming you both in a whirlwind of sensation and emotion.

With one final, heavy thrust, both of you let go of all that pressure and tension and scream out in ecstasy.

Several exhausted moans leave Oscar's lips, and he leans forward, grateful for the wall steadying him. At the same time, you lean your head back, moaning deeply.

You rest your head against his shoulder, swallowing hard. His body embraces yours right away; his firm shoulder is the perfect place right now.

Out of breath, the two of you barely regain your composure before you lock eyes again, both of you smiling contently.

"That was so good." He moans, exhausted, before he leans in, kissing you deeply.

"Oscar." You breathe into him, kissing him back.

After your passionate moment, you share another tender smile, your hearts still racing with the intensity of your connection.

With gentle touches and soft kisses, you help each other get dressed again, your movements slow and deliberate again.

As you adjust the sleeves of his fireproofs, you look up at Oscar, your eyes filled with affection. "You were amazing today," you say, your voice filled with pride. "I am so proud of you."

Oscar smiles back, his expression softening. "I am so glad you are here." He replies, his voice tinged with gratitude.

As he begins to change into fresh clothes, you watch him closely, unable to tear your eyes away.

Oscar moves with natural grace; every movement is fluid and confident. You can't help but admire the way his muscles shift beneath his skin as he removes his racing suit and tight firerpoofs.

He catches your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Sensing your admiration, he makes a little show out of changing, exaggerating his movements slightly as he slips out of his fireproofs and into a fresh pair of underwear you hand him.

You laught at his antics, enjoining the playful side of him that he reserves just for you. As you pull on the pair of jeans and the Mclaren shirt, you feel a surge of affection for him, admiring the way he looks in the team gear.

"You look amazing." You say. "But then again, you always do."

Oscar grins, his eyes shining brightly. "I have to look my best, especially with you around." He replies, his tone teasing.

With a final adjustment to his shirt, Oscar turns to you, his expression softening. "Thank you for being here," he says, his voice sincere.

You reach out and place your hand on his chest again, gently stroking him once more. "I'll always be here for you." You reply. "No matter what."

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 smut

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wandasreallover · 10 months ago

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ceo!wanda drabble|

Based on this photo ^

Title: Behind Closed Doors

The fluorescent lights of the office flickered like a stuttering heartbeat, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of stress. Today had been one of those days. You let out a heavy sigh as you walked through the doors of your apartment, a wave of exhaustion washing over you. Work had knocked the breath out of you—an impossible project deadline, an avalanche of demands from your boss, and the sharp criticism from a client who seemed to take pleasure in belittling your efforts. It felt as if the weight of the world was resting squarely on your shoulders, and it was a burden too heavy to bear alone.

You dropped your bag at the door, the sound echoing in the quiet space. The pent-up tension knotted in your chest; you were too drained to even think about making dinner. Instead, you decided to check in on Wanda, your partner and the indomitable CEO of Stark Financial. Her office was situated on the far side of the sleek, modern apartment you shared, a space that was usually filled with laughter, love, and warmth. Tonight, however, it was quiet, with only the muffled sound of typing breaking the stillness.

As you approached the door, you briefly hesitated. You didn't want to interrupt her again. The week had already been long, and you could see the stress lines etching deeper into her skin each day. Wanda was a force of nature—a cold, calculated leader in the office, yet behind closed doors, her warmth enveloped you like a comforting blanket. You admired her fiercely; still, a part of you felt like a distraction during her busy hours. So, you turned away.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” came a soft voice from the office.

You froze, caught in her web of concern. Wanda had a knack for sensing your presence, even when you thought you had managed to slip away unnoticed.

“I just thought I’d let you work,” you replied, trying to play it off. “You’re busy.”

“Not as busy as my heart when I’m waiting for you to get home,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Come here. I insist.”

You smiled despite yourself, nudging the door open and stepping inside her office. It was meticulously organized—a testament to Wanda’s precise mind. Papers were stacked neatly, and her laptop screen glowed with a kaleidoscope of spreadsheets and graphs. But as she looked up, her expression turned softer—an unguarded glimpse of the woman you adored.

“You look tired,” she remarked, concern furrowing her brow.

“I had a long day,” you admitted, sinking into the chair opposite her desk. “You know, same old stuff. I thought I would let you focus on your… empire.”

Wanda chuckled lightly. “I love my empire, but you are my home.”

The lump in your throat swelled. It was moments like this—where the walls of her icy exterior melted away with little gestures and word choices—that made you feel like you were the happiest person alive.

“I don’t want to take you away from your work, Wanda. I know how important it is to you,” you murmured, shifting in your seat.

“You could never take me away from what really matters,” she reassured. ��And right now, that’s you.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond as you caught the glimmer of sincerity shining in her green eyes. After a moment of hesitation, you slid out of the chair and made your way over to her. You stood beside her, the rich scent of her lavender shampoo wafting toward you, grounding you in the midst of your chaotic thoughts.

Without warning, she reached out and took your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours and abruptly pulled you into her lap. “Stay here with me,” she said softly.

You exhaled sharply, feeling the warmth radiating off her, and leaned down, resting your head against her shoulder. She smelled like home—lavender and the faint, intoxicating hint of citrus from her favorite candle. The tension in your body began to unwind as you inhaled deeply, seeking comfort in her presence.

Time ticked by softly, the rhythmic clicking of her keyboard becoming a lullaby that wrapped around you. Her focus on work was unwavering, but you could sense her awareness of you—the way she shifted ever so slightly toward you, anchoring you in her space.

After a while, you felt your eyelids growing heavy. There was something soothing about being near her, something that made you forget the chaos of the day. As the day's exhaustion settled in your bones, you felt the warm tingle of sleep creeping up. You nestled in closer, finding solace against the soft, familiar curve of her neck, inhaling the warmth of her presence as you surrendered to the comfort.

Somewhere in the distance, the clicking of keys grew louder, faster—pulsing with unspoken pressure. But you were enveloped in Wanda’s warmth, and it was where you most wanted to be, despite the storm of her workload.

In a heartbeat, you fell asleep.

Hours passed like fleeting clouds on a lazy afternoon, and Wanda noticed the shift in your breathing—slow and steady, the tension of the day finally giving way to tranquility. She paused her work, grateful for the moment, yet worried about what had caused you such distress. The protective nature that so often emerged in her professional life flared up again, nudging her to gently brush your hair back and press her lips to your forehead.

“You're okay now,” she whispered, a soft promise meant only for you. She knew how hard it had been for you and felt her heart ache wishing she could take every burden from you.

With a weary sigh, Wanda returned to her work, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. Her thoughts drifted not toward spreadsheets but rather to you: how hard you worked, how tough your days could be, and how all she wanted was to be your rock in the storm.

#ceo!wanda #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen fluff #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff fluff

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couch-potato28 · 3 months ago

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Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽️

VERSION X.

(a/n: in honor of Nagi, I prepared his best friend’s episode with some mentions of him but nothing serious. Can’t believe they did my white haired king like that 😔)

Warning-none

wc: 1k

ALSO: tags @ttheggrimrreaper @irethepotato @ohagiyo 🫶🔥

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

"Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number...

...14, Mikage Reo."

Oh, that name was just sooo…familiar. You swear you’ve heard it a few years ago, perhaps in a store, or was that at the nearby supermarket? Staring at the screen you wondered who this mysterious boy was before your friend elbowed you and whispered—

“Damn, you’re lucky as hell. Just got yourself the heir to the multimillion-dollar company, Mikage Corporation.”

Your head immediately spun around, eyes widened at the realization. This has to be a joke right, ‘cause why would someone like him be in this facility unless…you have hit the jackpot? You turned to your friend, both of you internally screaming while keeping intense eye contact as a form of silent communication. Your friend raised her hands that turned into fists to cheer you on as you slowly went out the door to get your things from Anri, happily bouncing down the corridor all while everyone else’s jaw was still on the floor.

Imagine being Mikage Reo’s manager, known as the chameleon.

——————

Mikage Reo who you spotted in the cafeteria with his gigantic friend next to him, munching on some steak. Straightening out your posture, you approached them with a small cough, making them divert their attention to you. Awkward and nervous, you introduced yourself with a bow, his purple eyes looking at you with intense curiosity. He did the same, giving you a small smile and a vague intro of himself. The first meeting was interesting, it pretty much felt like a job interview with the number of questions he asked—be it personal or professional—while you carefully answered each of them, occasionally taking a sip from your cup of coffee. However, your patience started to run out after the hundredth question—even his friend, Nagi had left—making you stand up and leave the room.

“Wait! Can you show me your data sheet?” he shouted, rushing after you. “…please!”

——————

•Reo who watched you like a hawk from the corner of his eyes during the first week, monitoring to see if you were actually qualified enough to be his manager. To an outsider, it may have looked like him silently pining after you, but you knew he was just observing your skills only to find—nothing.

•You were flawless from the beginning, tasks always done on time just as he liked, his preferences already memorized and you always adjusted his schedule if he wanted it. Not only that, you were strangely kind—you didn’t mind if he would dump you for his best friend, or if he had a bad day and was being a brat about it.

•Besides that, you were genuine. He could read your face like an open book, but never did he actually find any ill intent. You spoke your mind, argued over things, and muttered small curses if he was being annoying and he liked that.

•So after about two weeks, you seemed to have passed his little test as he stopped staring at you from a distance, or ask you questions out of the blue. Now, even if he did ask something it was purely for the sake of actually trying to get to know you better.

•Reo who often uses his rich boy privileges and it’s absolutely insane. Did you say the monitor room had some problems? Fixed with brand new screens and the facility got a technician. Damn, your favorite snack is out? No worries, the next day the vending machine is full of them with all the varieties in stock.

•Speaking of privileges, if you are mad at him, or he screwed up big time, he thinks money is the solution. It’s like a defensive mechanism against the possibility of you leaving him that makes the boy try to bribe you, or get you expensive things in return for your forgiveness.

•He also has some serious attachment issues and you gotta be gentle when dealing with it. It’s all about the right timing, and you can never mention anything bad about Nagi or he’s gonna get pissed. This is the hardest task as his manager but with time you become a pro at managing his crash outs.

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Reo evolves into someone else. He rethinks all his choices before and realizes that he can’t just depend on one person. He’s gotta work on himself to prove his worth—alone. And that’s exactly what he does.

•Early morning runs, late night training, self-monitoring, and analysis become much more frequent, and half of the time he doesn’t require your assistance. Reo becomes much more independent, and with your guidance from the sidelines, he’s practically shining. The fans don’t mention him as the heir or rich boy anymore but as Mikage Reo.

•You, his personal manager witness a 360° change and you don’t say a word. You keep up with his pace, working more than ever. Your player has a vision and is determined to make it happen, moving with a clear purpose, and not trying to impress anyone but himself with new tactics each time he’s on the field.

•Things change, and when he chooses Manshine City, and reunites with his best friend—the duo is back. All the hard work he’s done pays off during matches but you still try to remind him—individual goals make him rank higher. (=more money lmao)

•Reo’s possessiveness becomes a a minor inconvenience too. His insecurity rises since he’s surrounded by stronger players, making him even more clingier and controlling than usual. His attempts at trying to make you need him are still failing, but he’s trying.

•Loves to accidentally call you for help, stretching, water bottle refills, or anything really that makes you pay less attention to others. You don’t really notice though, shrugging it off whenever he interrupts your discussion with another boy thinking he’s probably just training hard and needs some help.

•Later on, you become an important person in his life during the time of working together, and he falls hard. Appreciates the way you show your support and love towards him, and he promises once he achieves his goal and the World Cup is in his hands—you’re gonna get the most lavish confession alongside a promotion with a long-due pay rise.

“Double the amount?” you ask, sitting on the soccer field after practice as he tells you about his dreams.

“Triple.” he smiles, making you laugh, not knowing what the future holds for the two of you.

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x manager au #blue lock u20 #blue lock x you #bllk reo #bllk reo mikage #mikage reo #reo mikage #blue lock reo #manshine city #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo x you #mikage reo x y/n

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mediocre-shark-tales · 7 months ago

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The Debut

Masterlist

The news hit the F1 world like a thunderclap—a 20 year old American driver, a complete unknown, was stepping into the Aston Martin seat mid-season. One of the few rookies to join halfway through the season, she was brought in to cover for Lance Stroll, sidelined potentially indefinitely by a severe injury. Speculation about his replacement had run wild, but no one expected it to be someone with almost no public history, let alone a driver no one had ever seen outside their helmet and racing suit. Yet Aston Martin was now ready to unveil her to the world—a driver who had only been known by her number, 66, and the nickname “Daredevil.”

In the week leading up to her debut, Aston Martin teased fans with cryptic photos and voice-modulated videos. Finally, they dropped a fifteen-minute video titled Welcome to AMRTC Driver 66, capturing her first day with the team. It opened with clips of the team speculating about her skill, personality, and confidence, overlaid with shots of her walking through the building without truly showing more than her shoes. Then, as a black screen lingered, the opening chords of “Real Gone” from Cars filled the silence. The video cut to the mystery driver getting suited up, each layer adding to her mystique, until she finally took to the track in the new car. A montage of high-speed laps displayed her undeniable skill and poise until the song slowly faded, revealing her standing still, helmet off, with curled hair framing her face as she turned toward the camera for the first time. This was quickly followed by a long ‘get to know me’ interview.

From the moment she arrived, the paddock buzzed with whispers. Her face was unfamiliar to the veteran drivers, but rumors hinted at her racing roots from leagues around the world. The fans, media, and even her new teammate waited with bated breath, eager to see if this newcomer could hold her own against the sport’s giants.

Y/n pov

I stepped into the Aston Martin garage with Marcus, my manager, beside me. My headphones were on, the bass of my favorite race weekend hype playlist thumping as I took in the scene. Mechanics and engineers glanced up from their tasks, eyes darting over to me before resuming their work on the cars and equipment, all in preparation for Practice Day 1. I’d skipped the usual media day—Aston Martin had somehow managed to get the FIA’s approval for me to skip it, which suited me just fine.

Marcus guided me through the bustling garage, giving me a quick rundown of everything before leading me to my driver’s room in the Aston Martin hospitality suite. As I took a seat, nerves bubbled up—I still hadn’t met Fernando Alonso. As confident as I felt in the car, the idea of meeting a living legend, someone who’d been racing since before I was even born, was something else entirely.

For as long as I could remember, Fernando Alonso had been my idol. I’d spent years studying his every move on the track, even adopting his aggressive, calculated driving style until I’d eventually developed my own. But knowing that I’d be racing alongside him—that I’d actually get to learn from him first hand—felt surreal, like stepping into a dream I’d chased my entire life.

That all changed the moment I actually met him. As I walked into the garage, fully suited up in my fireproofs with my helmet tucked under my arm, I could feel the weight of the moment settling in. After a quick weigh-in, Marcus led me over to Alonso. For a few awkward seconds, he barely glanced my way, his focus elsewhere until someone pointed me out to him. Around us, everyone was smiling and looking expectant—everyone except him. I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. I hadn’t expected him to be thrilled about my arrival, but his distant, unreadable expression stung in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

As I approached, He looked me up and down with the slightest hint of a frown.

"So, they think you're ready to jump into this mid-season?" he asked, crossing his arms. "I wonder if you actually understand what that means."

I blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't," I shot back, trying to keep my tone even.

He raised an eyebrow. "A lot of drivers think they’re ready," he replied, his voice cool. "But being ready means more than just showing up with confidence. Winning is a mindset, an instinct. It’s not just something you decide you have one day."

I felt my hands tighten around my helmet. "Maybe it’s not something you decide—but it is something you prove. I’m here to race, not get your approval, and I’ll show you on track that my style is nothing like what you've seen before."

A spark flashed in his eyes, though his expression remained unchanged. "We’ll see if your style is worth anything," he said, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Just remember that here, being good isn’t enough."

Without another word, I turned on my heel and headed toward my car, trying to shake off the sting of his words. As I disappeared around the corner, Fernando watched me go, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Once my car was ready, I climbed in, settling into the seat as the engineers moved in to strap me down. Glancing up at the screen, I watched past race footage from this track with this very car. They wanted me to see what I’d be up against—what I needed to match and, ideally, surpass.

A moment later, Marcus crouched down into my line of sight, flanked by two guys—one older and serious, the other younger, with a bit of a wide-eyed look.

“Y/N, this is Ben,” Marcus began, gesturing to the older man. “He’ll be running your radio. But he’s also training Landon here,” he nodded toward the younger guy, “to be your personal radio engineer. Since there’s still a good part of the season left, you’ll need someone who gets you on and off the track. Landon’s been watching your last F2 season, studying up to learn your style. Today’s practice sessions will help you both adjust to your new roles together.”

I nodded and gave them a thumbs up—they wouldn’t hear me over the helmet or the noise of the garage anyway, but my excitement was clear.

It was finally time. My doorman stepped out, giving me the signal that I was clear to go. I eased the car forward, carefully navigating my way onto the main pit road. Aston Martin’s garage was positioned right at the front of the entrance, but it also meant the longest stretch before merging onto the track. As I rolled past each team’s garage, I felt eyes following my every move, curious and assessing. They’d all heard the buzz about the new “mystery driver,” and now here I was.

Once I hit the open track, becoming the first car out on the tarmac, my radio crackled to life with Landon’s voice. “Okay, Y/N, this session is all about finding your sweet spot with the car. If anything feels even slightly off, let me know immediately. For now, just get comfortable with the track. We’ll start gathering real data in the next session.”

I pressed the radio button and replied with a quick, “Yes, sir,” a grin hidden behind my helmet as I pushed down on the accelerator, ready to make my mark.

I took a deep breath, the roar of the engine and the blur of the pit wall filling my senses as I pushed down on the accelerator. The Italian GP track spread out before me in a symphony of curves and straightaways, each turn already embedded in my mind. I’d studied this circuit obsessively—every corner, every curb, every shift in gradient. But now, with the Aston Martin beneath me, I could finally feel it for myself, each bump and nuance translating through the car with perfect clarity.

As I took on the first few turns, my instincts kicked in—a mix of smooth control and split-second aggression. Where other drivers might ease off in preparation for a hairpin, I’d mastered the art of late braking, letting the car edge just to the point of losing grip before snapping it back with a calculated shift in weight. I slid through the Variante del Rettifilo, cutting a sharp angle through the chicane, my hands steady as I kept my foot down. Each move, each turn was a test, not just for me, but for the entire team watching my data back in the garage.

The name Franco Colapinto kept flashing in my mind. I knew he’d have an impressive debut mid-season, and I could feel a competitive drive swelling within me as I attacked the track, eager to match and even exceed his potential mark. Exiting the second Lesmo, I made a mental note of how much grip the car could hold, the feeling just right as I powered down the straight toward Ascari. I couldn’t afford a single misstep. If I was going to prove myself, this was my moment to do it—full control at breakneck speed.

“Looking good, Y/N,” Landon’s voice crackled through the radio, but I was already focused on the final corner. The Parabolica curved ahead, inviting me to test my limits, and I didn’t hesitate. I took it wide before tightening on the exit, feeling the car grip to the line as I pushed the throttle to the max, the car launching down the home straight.

“Love you, Landon, but please don’t speak before I’m accelerating out of the corner,” I said quickly over the radio, just as I straightened out and hit the next curve.

There was a pause before his voice crackled back, a bit sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am. My apologies.”

I chuckled, the corners of my mouth lifting behind my helmet. “No worries, I’ll have you perfected in no time.”

With that, I settled back into my rhythm, feeling the weight of the car and every detail of the track imprinting itself in my mind. Soon enough, the first practice session came to an end, and I guided the car back to the pits. As I parked and the engineers moved in, I took a moment to pull off my helmet, still buzzing from the thrill of my first laps. This track, this team, and this car were quickly becoming home.

Time Skip -

Race day had arrived, bringing the tension and thrill of my F1 debut, but the sting of yesterday’s qualifying disaster still lingered. I’d ended up in P18, an unfortunate consequence of a poorly timed red flag that left the five of us at the back with no real shot at setting a solid lap time. I tried to brush it off as I prepared to join the rest of the grid for the drivers' parade.

Dressed in team gear, I wore one extra item that had become a part of my ritual. A few months ago, I lost my mother to cancer, and since then, I’d made sure to honor her at every race. Something on me, whether it was my gear or my helmet, would always bear a symbol of her favorite animal: the sea turtle. She had chosen it after learning the turtle’s symbolism of wisdom, endurance, and trusting one’s path, all qualities that described her so well. On each of my helmets, a small sea turtle was etched into the design. And when I wasn’t wearing the helmet, I kept a sea turtle necklace with me, its pendant filled with a touch of her ashes, as if she were here with me, watching over this pivotal moment.

I slipped on my headphones, tuning into my “reminiscing” playlist, letting myself reflect in the few quiet moments before the chaos. “How Do I Say Goodbye” by Dean Lewis filled my ears, a song that resonated now more than ever. My F2 team had given me the remainder of the season off after my mother’s passing, telling the media I was undergoing intense training for my reserve role. Nobody outside my close circle knew the truth, and it felt like a private thread of grief I carried alone, my mother’s memory grounding me as I faced the reality of my first F1 race without her.

I followed the line of drivers, hanging back, unnoticed by most. No one had approached me—not to chat, nor to dismiss me. They’d fallen naturally into their cliques, small pockets of friendships built over countless races together. The trailer pulled up, and I was the last to step aboard, taking a quiet corner near the back. My gaze drifted over the crowd as I toyed with the sea turtle pendant around my neck, a small comfort. If there was ever a moment I needed my mom, it was now. I imagined her smiling at my awkwardness, maybe even scolding the guys to show a bit of gentlemanly grace. Her humor and warmth were all I had left to keep close in this overwhelming moment.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. I pulled off my headphones and turned to see a smiling Franco Colapinto standing there, his easy grin contagious. My smile mirrored his as I placed my headphones around my neck, grateful for the distraction.

“Hola! I’ve been waiting to get a chance to talk to you,” he said, his tone smooth and friendly.

“Hey! I didn’t think anyone would come over,” I replied, surprised but pleased. “It’s nice to finally meet you. How are you feeling about today?”

“Excited and a little nervous, to be honest. It’s not every day you get to race in Formula 1, right? I’m sure you feel the same way.”

I nodded, feeling a wave of camaraderie. “Definitely. It’s been a whirlwind, but I’m ready to show what I can do out there.”

Franco's eyes sparkled with encouragement. “You’ve got this! I saw your lap times from practice; you really have a gift. Just stay focused and trust your instincts. We’re in this together after all.”

“Thanks! That means a lot, especially coming from you. I know you’ve been making waves already too,” I said, my confidence growing.

“Just trying to keep up!” he laughed, his energy infectious. “How about we make a pact? Let’s push each other out there and see how far we can go. We might even surprise some people!”

“Deal!” I grinned, feeling the excitement of a budding friendship. “I’d love to have someone to share this experience with. After all, it’s always more fun with friends.”

Franco nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! Let’s catch up after the race too—maybe grab a bite? I think we could both use a little downtime after all this craziness.” He blushed slightly, the nerves from the question filling him.

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. As we exchanged a few more words, the nervous weight on my shoulders lifted, replaced by the warmth of a new friendship that made this moment feel just a little less daunting.

Time flew by, and before I knew it, we were dropped back at the paddock. With no distractions, I headed straight for my garage, ready to change and get my head in the game. As I pulled on each piece of my race gear, my heart thudded louder, like it was syncing up with the pulse of the race track. I pressed play on my go-to race day anthem, letting "Real Gone" by Sheryl Crow blast through my headphones on repeat. If this song didn’t put me in the zone, nothing would—it was basically my theme song at this point.

Finally dressed, I took out my helmet. Today, I’d be wearing something special. Up until now, I’d been using my usual helmet, but today was different. This one was for my mom. The design was everything she’d loved: a watercolor sea turtle on each side, painted in her honor. And the top? Like Max’s iconic lion, but this time, it was the face of a sea turtle, wise and serene, watching over me. I could almost hear her laugh as I ran my fingers over the shell details. This one’s for you, Mom.

Leaving the driver’s room, I headed towards the garage, spotting Fernando getting weighed, his usual intense focus evident even with all the last-minute prep happening around us. I gave him a nod, but he was too busy to notice. The team was buzzing, everyone moving with that pre-race electricity.

Before long, I was strapped into the car, staring down the rows of vehicles lined up before me. Silence filled my helmet as I mentally ran through my race strategy. My goal was clear: make it into the points. It wasn’t just about my debut anymore; it was about proving that I belonged here. I’d shut up the critics, the doubters, the ones who said I didn’t have what it took. One pass at a time, I’d show them exactly why I was here.

With just minutes left before the race began, the team pulled the last of the covers from my car and gave it one final check before stepping back off the track. A calm washed over me, the nerves melting into pure focus. It was time.

As the lights went out for the formation lap, I pressed the pedal, feeling the power beneath me roar to life. One by one, the cars in front began moving, and I eased into line, the vibrations of the track buzzing through my hands and up my arms. As I made my way around the circuit, I took in the crowds, fans pressed up against the barricades, flags waving, people cheering, everyone vying for a glimpse of the action before the real race even began. Some held banners and signs with drivers’ names, a few even with my number and the sea turtle logo—my symbol.

I could feel the weight of all those eyes, every fan, every camera trained on the car, and I let it sink in. This was it. For a split second, my mind flashed back to all the hard work, the sleepless nights, and every lap it took to reach this moment. I had something to prove to the fans, to the team, to everyone who’d doubted me. But right now, the only thing on my mind was to trust my path—just like the sea turtle my mom had loved so much.

As the formation lap came to an end, the tension in the air shifted into something electric. The cars lined up on the grid, engines rumbling in anticipation, and I felt a surge of adrenaline course through me. The lights began to sequence, and I focused on the start, visualizing my strategy for the race. This was my moment, and I was ready.

The lights went out, and with a roar, I launched off the line. The initial surge was exhilarating; I was quick on the throttle, feeling the car respond to my commands as I made my way into Turn 1. I immediately positioned myself on the inside line, expertly avoiding the chaos of the cars jostling for position. I could hear the crackle of the radio as Landon encouraged me, reminding me to stay calm and focused.

By the time I reached the first series of corners, I was already gaining ground. I overtook a struggling driver on the outside, timing my move perfectly as I accelerated past him, narrowly avoiding a collision. The thrill of passing my first competitor sent a rush of confidence through me. I could see Franco up ahead, holding steady in P15, and I set my sights on catching him.

As I maneuvered through the tighter sections of the track, I began to find my rhythm. I was in the zone, my mind clear, my instincts sharp. Every corner felt like an opportunity, and I seized each one with determination. The roar of the crowd grew louder with every pass I made, and I could feel the energy fueling my drive.

By the end of the first five laps, I had already climbed up to P15. The rush of adrenaline pushed me further as I entered the sixth lap, where I saw two cars ahead battling for position. I took advantage of their fight, threading my car between them at just the right moment. It felt like a dance, fluid and precise. I could hear Landon’s voice in my ear, excitement evident as I made my way to P12.

With each lap, I continued to push, my confidence growing as I settled into the flow of the race. I navigated through the midfield, expertly carving my way around each driver that stood in my path. Before I knew it, I was in P10, and the battle for the final point was heating up. I had Franco in my sights, and he was locked in a fierce duel with a driver ahead. I took a deep breath, my focus zeroing in on the track ahead.

As we approached the DRS zone, I positioned myself perfectly behind Franco, ready to capitalize on the situation. The moment the DRS activated, I unleashed the power of my car, speeding past him as I made my way into P9. A rush of exhilaration flooded over me—I was in the points! I could hardly believe it. The realization that I had come from P18 to P9 within 2/3s of the race filled me with a sense of accomplishment and the determination to keep pushing forward. With my mother’s spirit guiding me, I 2ould fight for better positions.

The final laps flew by in a blur, each corner, each straight a chance to cement my place in this race. I held P9 fiercely, defending against anyone who dared to challenge me, pushing the car to its limits while staying calm under pressure. As I crossed the finish line, a wave of relief and triumph washed over me, the weight of the entire race lifting in an instant. My radio crackled with life, and suddenly the cheers of the team filled my helmet, their voices a symphony of celebration.

“P9! Absolutely incredible, y/n!” Landon’s voice shouted, brimming with pride. “You did it, you’re in the points on your debut!”

I could hear Marcus chiming in, his excitement nearly drowning out the others, “You’ve made history today. Unbelievable drive—everyone here is beyond proud!”

A smile broke across my face as I took a moment to let it all sink in. The crowd’s cheers blended with the voices in my ear, my heart racing with pure exhilaration. I lifted a hand in a quiet tribute to my mom, feeling her presence there on the track. This was just the beginning—I’d proven I belonged here.

Pulling into parc fermé, I powered down the car, feeling the silence wrap around me as the engine’s roar faded. Just as I started climbing out, I heard someone shout my name over the buzz of the paddock. I turned and saw Franco charging toward me, a huge grin plastered on his face. Before I could react, he reached me, practically tackling me in a bear hug as he lifted me off my feet and spun me around.

“You raced beautifully, hermosa!” he yelled, his excitement infectious. I couldn’t help but laugh, caught up in his energy as he set me back down.

“And you! That defense was insane—I thought I’d never get around you!” I replied, still catching my breath. We grinned at each other, peeling off our helmets and balaclavas, both flushed and exhilarated.

“Seriously,” he said, eyes bright, “for a debut race? You were unstoppable. I knew you’d make waves, but that was something else.”

“Thanks, Franco,” I said, feeling the pride and relief mix with a new rush of excitement. “And I know that won’t be the last time I’m chasing you down.”

“Can’t wait for it,” he replied with a laugh. We shared a nod, silently acknowledging the start of something bigger between us.

As we pulled away, someone called out for us. I turned, and to my surprise, racing legend Lewis Hamilton was walking over, looking exhausted but with a warm, genuine smile. "That was spectacular from both of you," he said, nodding at Franco and me. "I can’t wait to watch the highlights later. You both defended and overtook with skill today—I’m excited to see how you both keep improving."

Franco and I exchanged a quick look of shared amazement and thanked him, both of us a bit starstruck. Just then, Alex appeared, pulling Franco aside, leaving me with Lewis.

“So, y/n,” he began, his tone more serious now, “I actually wanted to have a word with you. I didn’t want to overwhelm you earlier, so I thought now might be the best time—when your spirits are high and you’ve got a bit of space to breathe.” I nodded, curious, as he continued.

“I know it can be tough to find real allies here,” he said gently. “Especially as someone who stands out in a sport that doesn’t have many like you.” His words hit home; I’d felt the isolation creeping in, even with the excitement of today’s race. “I went through a similar thing when I started. I want you to know, if you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, I’m here. Whether it’s for advice, venting, or just someone who gets it—don’t hesitate to find me.”

A wave of gratitude washed over me, and I managed a smile, feeling the pressure I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying start to lift. “Thank you, Lewis. That really means a lot,” I said, trying to convey how much his words reassured me. He gave a small, understanding nod, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.

“Anytime,” he said with a kind smile. “You’ve got a bright future ahead. Just keep your head up.” With a reassuring nod, Lewis turned and walked back toward his team, leaving me standing there with a sense of both calm and determination. I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in, feeling a surge of confidence.

Gathering myself, I turned and headed back to my team’s garage, the noise of the paddock buzzing around me, but somehow, I felt more focused than ever. As I walked, a few crew members caught my eye, giving me nods and pats on the back, their own excitement mirroring my own.

I saw Marcus waiting with a grin, surrounded by engineers who all looked just as thrilled. I knew I’d made a mark today—not just on the track but on the people who believed in me. And as I joined them, I couldn’t help but smile.

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