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gyuswhore · 1 year

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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho

[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe

For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones.

You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out.

It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago.

Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.

Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves.

“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly.

“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign.

He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.”

He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.”

Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him.

You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.”

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.”

He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom.

“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.”

“Hey, it’s good.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”

“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you).

“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question.

The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change.

Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet.

“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn.

“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face.

“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck.

“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on.

“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.

Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.”

“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.”

Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?”

You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it.

“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones.

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu.

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.”

“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…”

“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”

He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.”

Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?”

“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.

“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble.

“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.

Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”

Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.”

“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot.

“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?”

“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?”

Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.”

That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds.

“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.

“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”

“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you.

“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.”

Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep.

The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing.

You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant.

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.

“Never knew you read.”

“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding.

You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”

He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”

Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you.

“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.

“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?”

You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”

“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.”

“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”

“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down.

“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu.

“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”

“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb.

“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.

“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.

“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.

“And believe you instead?”

Oh, you wish.

Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him.

“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.”

He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it.

“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.”

Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode.

“How far are you with that one?”

“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.”

He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him.

“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave.

“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check.

By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone.

It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though.

[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20 [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up

The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon.

Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone.

You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better.

There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name.

The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still.

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did.

Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you.

“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.

“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies.

“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips.

Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole.

It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”

You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.”

“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”

“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets.

“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”

Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.

More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought.

That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.

Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait.

The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.

It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly.

“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression.

“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish.

But you don’t.

“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?”

“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back.

“Did you drive like this?”

“Uh, no, I walked.”

“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”

“Wanted to see you.”

It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard.

“Had to talk about the book.”

Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”

He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”

You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store.

“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”

He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?”

“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.”

By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before.

“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”

“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.”

“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”

Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him.

He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?”

Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone.

The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee.

“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck.

“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.”

“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him.

“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”

“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently.

“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in.

“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter.

“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time.

He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb.

“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly.

“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth.

Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed.

“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth.

It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die.

Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time.

“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter.

You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”

He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.

It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night.

You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank.

It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer.

If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.

There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar.

They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though.

“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table.

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies.

Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face.

Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.”

“It’s not about that.”

Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”

Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”

“Better?”

“She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”

Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”

“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”

“Easy?”

“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.”

It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him.

His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”

“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”

He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.

“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing.

“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.

Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.”

“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder.

“Yeah…”

“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly.

“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth.

“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.”

Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.

“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid.

Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”

“You hate living in peace.”

“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—”

“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry.

He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence.

Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.

“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —”

“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table.

Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.

“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.”

“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late.

“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.”

Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff.

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts.

“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.

“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up.

By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.

Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off.

He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible.

“What’re you doing here?”

Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?”

“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies.

“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you.

“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”

The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long.

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware.

He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you.

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament.

Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start.

You really needed a new car.

Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head.

Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run).

So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down.

The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead.

“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”

She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave.

“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing.

“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.

“That’d be great actually, thank you.”

Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.

You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you.

Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day.

You had forgotten your book.

It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry.

You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day.

What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day.

Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day.

You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities.

Was he uncomfortable with you?

Was he avoiding you?

Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him?

The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were.

Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying.

[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: are you at work today? [You]: yeah [You]: i get off at 10 tho [Mingyu]: can i see you today?

You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating.

[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store? [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then

There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month.

Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore.

Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap.

Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door.

Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him.

“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him.

“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes.

Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.”

He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”

“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water.

He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.”

“It’s next week, isn’t it?”

He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.

“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior.

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?”

“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.”

“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood.

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.”

“O-okay.”

It’s silent. Painfully so.

“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.”

There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat.

“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.”

“Mingyu—“

“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”

His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually.

“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”

He pauses.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”

“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”

There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down.

You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much.

“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob.

It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much.

“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”

The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu.

And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms.

You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long.

But you can’t. You can’t do it.

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”

You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down.

“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”

Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak.

You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore.

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart.

It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company.

Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.

Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway.

You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck.

There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form.

“What’re you doing?”

Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort.

“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters.

“It’s not that!” you groan.

“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.”

Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.

There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs.

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.”

“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?”

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?”

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits.

“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time.

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head.

“Seokmin!” you scream.

“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him.

“No, it’s not,” you grit.

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact.

“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”

“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!”

“I don’t want to go.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”

“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled.

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.”

He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.

Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase.

Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.

The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense.

The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed.

Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar.

Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge.

There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd.

You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?

Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say.

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this.

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

“You’re here,” he says, simple as that.

“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes.

“Seok told me you were here too.”

Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?”

“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”

“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.

You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you.

Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands.

“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.

It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all.

You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft.

The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back.

And another

Then another.

You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work.

You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all.

THE BEGINNING

There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays.

There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name.

“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…”

You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak.

You needed to leave.

Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed.

“Let’s go home.”

“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.”

He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away.

“Let me drop you off home.”

You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.

He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.

You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down.

Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.

You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop.

Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same.

The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded.

Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so?

Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window?

You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief.

Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep.

You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom.

Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint.

“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?”

You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?”

There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?”

“Nayeon’s”

“Bullshit.”

You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?”

Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”

You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot.

By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles.

Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this.

Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too.

“Promise me you mean it,” you say.

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying.

“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”

The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying.

Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”

“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap.

Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips.

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks.

“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”

There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite.

“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”

Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside.

His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years.

His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated.

“I love you,” you mumble against his lips.

Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full.

There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far.

“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”

He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth.

“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”

He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”

He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”

By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down.

Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy.

“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out.

His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other.

“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”

Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties.

Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage.

Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”

“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”

He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core.

Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you.

“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional.

There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same.

The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat.

Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left.

“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good.

“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame.

Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.”

You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?”

“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away.

He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut.

“Oh, Mingyu,”

That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it.

“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more.

It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint.

“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”

He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.”

“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax.

And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”

He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot.

You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his.

“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own.

“Great.”

“Great?”

“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process.

You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes.

“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves.

“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand.

“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips.

Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness.

“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.”

When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.”

“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge.

“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole.

You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady.

He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.”

When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.

He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic.

If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”

“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before.

And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well.

He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze.

He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed.

His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.

“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body.

He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.”

You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again.

“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub.

“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?”

Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent.

“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.

“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”

There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat.

“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone.

“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers.

“Did you bring it with you?”

You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed.

“What the fuck?” you breathe out.

“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed.

You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.

“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again.

“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.”

“Oh.”

The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later.

“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.”

“I-”

“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.”

The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand.

You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands.

“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”

“We could do that right now.”

“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”

“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.

“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them.

“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.”

You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.

“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”

You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”

He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.

His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it.

“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter.

He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off.

Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep.

The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time.

The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar.

Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp.

There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.

You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same.

Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s.

The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here.

You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back.

It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you.

They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother.

[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???

By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”

“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”

You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does.

“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face, “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.”

“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”

Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.”��

The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?”

“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.”

You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?”

“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.”

“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort.

“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.”

“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.”

“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.

“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”

He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.”

“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.

He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.”

When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.”

“I hope so,” you reply.

“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.”

You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?”

His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”

Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”.

6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses.

By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can).

Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed.

It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth.

“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.

“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”

“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”

You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs.

“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”

‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?”

“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”

“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically.

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly.

“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples.

“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.”

He’s silent.

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.”

No response.

“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”

Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?

“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.”

You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight.

“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.”

“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.”

“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”

The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling.

Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well).

But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other.

His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment.

You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight.

As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively.

By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you.

You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit.

You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you.

By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.

“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”

“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”

“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.

He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”

“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.”

He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”

“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.”

He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”

It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights.

“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”

“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”

You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”

He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!”

You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle.

“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”

He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.”

You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home.

It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums.

“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.

“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate.

“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load.

It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”

He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?”

“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.”

He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”

You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”

He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”

He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”

“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything.

You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.”

Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”

“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite.

It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie.

He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression.

“Love ya’” he giggles.

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”

“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!”

You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening.

“Hey!”

Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone.

“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply.

“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself.

It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

3K notes · View notes

caramelkoo · 4 days

Text

honeysuckle

boyfriend!jungkook, established relationship, smut

summary : according to your boyfriend, a little competition won't hurt anyone especially when the game is his favorite. Making you feel good.

warnings : mature, strong language, heavy on the smut, a little fluff thrown in there, fingering, pussy slapping, he asks for consent, they're freaky, dick piercing, ass slapping, hickeys, sex in a jacuzzi, reverse cowgirl, riding, jungkook wants oc so bad, dirty talk, he calls oc sweetheart, unprotected sex. if i missed something, do let me know.

a/n : hi my loves, here’s your promised smutty treat. tbvh that picture has not left my mind ever since i saw it lmao. I love you guys so so much. You're so loved and cherished. Please don't read this in front of your parents. also @rpwprpwprpwprw was the sweetest to ask for a tag <33 xoxo

"Oh yeah baby, just like that"

"You fuck me so good"

'Take my cock like a good slut you are"

Any other day, you're all about sex positivity and letting your body get what it wants but today of all days, your neighbors want to ruin the peace that you so desperately craved.

Your boyfriend, Jungkook had left early for a business meeting promising you to come back as soon as he gets done with it. As much as you missed him, you had felt the need to have some time for yourself. You thrive on being Jungkook's girlfriend, it's all butterfly in the stomach, princess treatment kind of love but you can't lie about wishing for some alone time just for yourself. Finally, you were getting it. You had it all planned bit by bit.

Step 1 : take an everything shower

Step 2 : cook something delicious for yourself while wave to earth plays in the background

Step 3 : read a romantasy novel you've been anticipating for a long time.

Step 4 : if sleepy, sleep. If not, take out your pink best friend from the bedside drawer and seek your pleasure listening to Jungkook's voice recording you had him record the other day. It always works.

Step 3 and you're already at the verge of giving up. It appears the people next door didn't exactly like your plan and they wanted to make you realize how lonely you are. Screaming at your face, "Haha guess who's not getting a dick". God forbid if a girl wants to have quite and peaceful night while romanticizing the shit out of it.

You slam the book on the bed and sigh. For a second you consider calling Jungkook but stop when you realize that you'll only be hindering his work. What are you even going to tell him? that you can't read because your neighbors have been fucking each other for hours now? No, that's just stupid.

Taking off your reading glasses you make your way to the kitchen. If you can't get sleep tonight, you might as well give them a tough fight. When and if they decide to let their horny asses take a break and decide to doze off, they'd catch on to the fact that there's someone next door whose mama didn't raise a quitter. Immature? you don't think so.

Once the woman's voice on the speaker alerts you that your phone has been connected, you start off with your favorite go to song when you need to cry your eyes out. "Fuck to an emotional song now" you think.

Coming in terms with the fact that you might have to pull an all nighter, you begin making coffee. The word itself brings a smile on your face. Coffee, which got you through your med school. Coffee, which got you Jungkook.

If you really think about it, hadn't you mustered up the courage to go on a solo date that day and have a coffee all by yourself you wouldn't have crossed your paths with him. It's funny actually because how many couples do actually last this long after meeting at a random coffee shop?

After dating douchebags for almost three years you had taken a break from dating all together. It was high time you focused on yourself. Honestly, it's not like they were the only one who was messed up in your previous relationships. You had some parts you had to heal as well and the moment you caught up on that, you went on a journey. Journey to self love, journey to find yourself and a journey which will leave you not perfect but healed.

As for the dimwits you dated in the past, sometimes it was "why do you always have to be like this? how much more space do you need?" or, "What do you mean you don't want to have sex right now? C'mon don't be a spoilsport".

Spoilsport, your ass.

Standing up on your tippy toes, your hands reach out for the coffee container but before you could even settle your foot down on the floor, two arms circle around your waist making you gasp in utter shock.

The need to defend yourself takes so strongly over you that you don't even turn around in order to check the person before your elbow connects with their nose.

When you finally do, you can't stop the scream from leaving your mouth. Your face all red and your eyes as big as saucers.

You panic, "JUNGKOOK?"

When you see blood oozing out of his left nostril after he lifts his face, you mentally curse your sister for forcing you to take self defense classes.

"What's with the song, sweetheart?"

"I told you you were gonna be my death someday but who knew it was gonna be tonight"

After cleaning up his nose and giving him a cup of coffee, you both were now sitting on the couch. You had turned off the music, though. God knew it was not making the situation any better.

You take a sip before speaking, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Who comes home like this and at this hour?"

"My flight was late, sweetheart. I wanted to get to you much sooner but destiny had plans--" he gets cut off as his eyebrows crease in wonder.

"What was that?"

"The neighbors. They have been going at it for hours now" you shake your head in disbelief.

"For hours? That's some stamina I must say" he breaks out in a fit of laughter as you place your cup on the table in front of you.

Turning towards him you ask, "You find this funny? I haven't been able to sleep because of them"

Your voice comes out a bit whiny and you wonder if you're acting a bit childish.

"Oh, sweetheart. How about this, I take a quick shower and we cuddle to sleep" a mixture of warmth and concern crossing his face.

Your smile is wide when you say, "I'd love that"

Jungkook finishes his coffee and pecks your lips as he saunters towards the bathroom. However, when he turns back and says the most unforeseen thing, your silly mind doesn't even think twice.

"Actually, _____. Why don't you join me?"

Bubbles form inside the jacuzzi as smoke fills your surroundings. The smell of warm water hits your nose making it feel tingly. Your stomach is doing summersaults as your boyfriend lets you down inside the water, heart skipping a beat.

Only when Jungkook lets himself sit on the other side of the tub, you can finally take a deep breath. His eyes never leaving yours. When you're with him, there's nothing you care about. Not your horny neighbors, not the world, nothing. It's just him and his presence that lights you up. A smile that could rival the sun.

Him.

Your fingers play with the water as you try to make a conversation. This moment right here, is peak level of intimacy for you. You're both naked, exposed and vulnerable yet you've never felt safer. Not to mention how you feel like a high school girl trying to talk to his crush.

When you were young, the bathroom was the only place you could run and cry in and no one judged you. The four walled room provided more comfort than people in your life. It holds memories but when you moved in with your boyfriend, you left those at your old house. To rot, because what else?

With him, every corner, every space in your house feels pure and blissful. It’s filled with laughter, moans and him.

Jungkook's legs are lightly brushing yours every now and then, the movement sending shivers down your spine. What's happening to you?

"So, how was the business trip?"

"On a scale of one to ten, how funny is it that you wanna talk about business while looking like that and all I wanna do is fuck that sweet mouth of yours because of how much I missed it?"

You shudder, the effect he has on you is beyond belief and now with the expression crossing his face, pure lust and longing, it's as though somebody has set your whole body on fire. A mix of hot and cold feeling running through your veins.

"Jungkook"

"Come here"

"Wh-"

He cuts you off, "Come here, sweetheart. Come to me before I lose my ever loving mind'

You don't have an option other than to scoot your way towards him. He positions your body between his legs, his taut and muscular chest touching your wet back.

Wetness pools between your legs as his hardness presses at your lower hip just above your ass. Your pussy throbs with need and you stop yourself from reaching down to relieve that tension.

His fingers ever so lightly graze over your arm, frequently making drawings on it.

"How long did you say they were going at it?"

You look at him, "About three hours. Why?"

He's up to something. You can feel it in your bones.

"Do you think they're still gonna be able to fuck each other after hearing your screams through the wall, sweetheart?"

Fuck. The idea of making them listen to you while your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion doesn't sound so bad. You missed him, you missed being in his arms and you missed him being inside you as well. So, where's the harm in that?

"You wanna give them a show? Let them know how well your man fucks you?"

The moan that leaves her as she lets her head fall back heavy on his chest tells him everything her words can't.

"Jungkook, please. It's been so long" she cries out.

She stirs making herself more comfortable but that just makes him hiss through his teeth as her ass grazes his cock, the metal on the tip leaving a cool sensation. He's not gonna give in easily though. He will make her earn that release.

His hands cup her tits, fully covering them and they fit so perfectly in his hands. Heavy, full, perfect. As if they're made just for him to suck, him to cup, him to cum on, him to leave purple love bites on.

"I know, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I kept thinking about while I was away?" his voice trails off, "I kept thinking about how bad I wanna fuck your throat"

The sound that leaves her is filled with need.

"Jungkook, baby please."

He trails his hands down her chest and stomach before it reaches her pussy. Just around her clit. His finger are soft and light, not putting pressure when all she wants is for him to give her the release she so badly craves.

Jungkook's cock is already leaking with precum and his balls ache. He missed his girl so fucking much, so much that he lost count of how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of her while he was away. When his colleagues saw his flushed face, he had no other option than to blame it on the cold weather.

His finger slide down and back up her slit, making her visibly shiver.

Shit. He's not gonna last long if she keeps making those noises.

"How many finger do you want, _____?" he asks as repeats the same motion.

His mouth comes on her in a searing kiss, it's possessive, passionate, burning and everything nasty. He's straight up claiming her mouth as her tongue tangles with his own.

Pulling back he waits for her response, "Two. Please"

Following her command, his two fingers slide inside her. He tightens the hold on her stomach to have her stay in place when she bucks her hips forward.

She screams.

"That's my girl"

He slides his finger out before sinking it deep inside her cunt again. Crooking them in such a way that he hits her g-spot. Desperate moans fill the room mixing with the steam coming out of the hot water. Her hands ghost over his, fastening his pace.

"You want it faster, sweetheart?"

"Yes, much faster. I wanna cum so bad"

Happy to give her what she wants, he begins rubbing at her clit while his other fingers work their way in and out her wet cunt.

"Oh my fucking god"

"That's right. Get what you want. Such a good girl for me"

He's an animal at this point as he tries to mark her his more than she already is. Jungkook has always been open about sex with his girlfriend, his needs, his wants, his desires and she'd done the same. You compliment each other perfectly. It's easier that way, not leaving any room for doubts.

She like dirty talk, he gives it to her.

When her hips lift forward matching his thrusts, he smirks. Biting her slender neck as she chases her orgasm.

"Aghh"

It finally happens, her hands grasp his even more tightly, other hand gripping the edge of the jacuzzi as she lets out a scream. Her breath fastens as sweat beads her forehead, Jungkook never stopping with his praises.

When she settles back down between his legs, he takes his finger out and sucks them clean. Brown eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you think they heard us, sweetheart?"

Her laughter brings smile to his face, "You're crazy"

"And you're mine" He pecks her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a bit. Basking in the feeling of her love's skin against his lips.

At the beginning of your relationship when you were just getting comfortable with intimacy, jungkook loved kissing her cheek. It was his way of showing her that she's adored by him. Then he realised that quite frankly, it's her. He likes kissing so much because it's her that he's kissing.

He holds her for a while before speaking up, "You wanna help me with a problem?"

He doesn't need to tell her twice but soon as her next words leave her mouth, he takes a double take.

"Sit on the edge and I'll suck you off" he hears her say as she kneels before him.

"Later" he grabs her by her shoulders as he positions her back between his legs. This time facing him.

Her legs wrap around his waist and his thick cock presses against her navel. He knows how badly she wanted to take him into her mouth and he could have let her do that only if he was strong enough to resist himself from sinking deep inside her.

"Now, I wanna fuck you. Raw and nice just like my girlfriend deserves" his voice comes out breathy.

"I love you"

"Me too, sweetheart. More than you know" he assures.

Knowing he can't take it anymore, he lifts her up and sits her body down on his cock. Slowly by slowly as she moans her way through it. ____'s head falls into the crook of his neck and his grip tightens on the curve of her waist. The ampallang piercing multiplies the pleasure tenfold as you both roll your eyes at the back of your head.

Jungkook got madly drunk the other day and came back with a dick piercing which resulted in her getting mad at him and him fucking her to show how good it gets with it.

Having said that, he presses a searing kiss on her lips and his breath knocks out of his chest in the process. It's almost like he's dreaming. The feel of her body on him, his cock deep inside ____, her arms caging him. It all feels surreal. At this point, the neighbors are long forgotten. It's you and him now.

He takes one of her sensitive buds in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Moving it in circular motions.

The next few seconds involve him spanking her ass as if he wants to leave marks, him guiding her up and down his cock as she bounces and giving her frequent kisses. Wet slapping noises fill the entire room as his balls ache with need.

"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Wrapped around me like this while I fuck you good, huh?" he slaps her pussy lightly.

Thrust Thrust Thrust

As she falls back again into his arms, crying loudly with utter pleasure, he tightens his hold on her body. Hugging her close as both of your heartbeats sync together.

"Thank you for letting me love you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming into my boring ass life and filling it with laughter. Fuck"

Your sweaty and now tired bodies are wrapped around each other as you both revel in the warmth of intimacy.

He lets out a grown followed by her whine and before he can say anything, you’re both cumming together, sighing and kissing as you come down your high.

A chaste kiss is pressed on her forehead, "So perfect, my girl"

"That was…" you bite your lip.

"Amazing, I know" he says as he mindlessly plays with her black locks.

his hands rub her back. "Sweetheart, I want one more from you"

"One more?"

"Yeah, this time I wanna see your beautiful back. Will you do it for me?"

He tries to ask her as gently as possible. Pride filling his chest when he sees her nod.

Guiding her up with the support of her knees he sits her down on his lap, his balls brushing against her clit as he sinks back inside her. A man can only take so much before he snaps. This was the moment for him. His girl's back glistens in the most beautiful way ever. Sweat droplets mixed with water dripping down her spine that he can’t help but kiss.

"Fuck baby, you look like a goddess right now." he halts,

"So warm"

Trailing his hands up the back of her neck he threads his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly but also putting enough pressure just so she can feel a sweet pain.

His heart skips another beat when she starts moving forward and then backwards, teasing him. Her movements are painfully slow. He wants to ask ____ to move faster but at the same time, he also wants to make this special for her.

So, he waits and watches her back arch as he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

"Jungkook" she moans his name, holding on to his thigh as he pounds into her from the back. It’s even deeper now, his cock hitting places he’d never hit before. Jungkook mentally thanks himself for trying out this new position because he’d just about take any chance to feel more connected to ____.

Just when his stomach contracts and hardens, he asks, "____ I’m gonna need you to spread those ass wider. I’m very close"

When she hums in response he gently pushes her upper body so that it’s flat on his legs, immediately letting him see more of ____'s ass. Her asshole clearly visible to him. It’s such a vulnerable position that you’re both in. Her more than him.

He has to ask her, "Sweetheart, if you don’t feel comfortable we can always stop, alright? You just have to ask"

Her whiney voice reaches his ears, "I’m okay, baby. Just- Just fuck me"

So, he does. His hips thrust forward as he fucks her mercilessly, letting her have the pleasure. She moans, he moans, she cries out, he groans. It’s unbelievably perfect. His hands roam over her smooth back, her ass and even down to her pussy. Both bodies working in a graceful sync.

Suddenly, it’s like the earth comes to a stop. His hands grip his hair while the other one grips hers. His stomach hardens, balls tightening and the moment _____ clenches around his cock, he cums inside of her. Filling her up with hot, white liquid. She follows him soon enough.

"I fucking love this body of yours"

She straightens up and lets her wet body fall heavy on his chest seeking warmth and his arms around her. He’s more than happy to do so. His muscular arms bring her closer to his chest as he relaxes.

Before the next words leave his mouth, he has to make sure ____ is sound asleep.

"I can’t wait to ask you to marry me, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you in that white dress walking towards me like the angel you are"

He hopes she says yes, he hopes the ring brings the biggest smile on her face.

He hopes.

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formulawolff · 3 months

Text

"you belong here" - s.v.

pairing: gf!reader x aston martin!sebastian vettel

word count: 1.5k

warnings: (slight) age gap relationship, a little bit of cursing here and there, seb being absolutely down bad for the reader, some (slight) angst, the general public being judgmental, (slight) slut shaming, the drivers being little shits (as always), yadayadayada

a/n: i am a perfectionist when it comes to writing personalities, mannerisms, cadences of words, etc. so if i happened to not do the best job with this fic, please be patient with me!!! this is my first time writing for seb!!! i am open to feedback!!! <3

"okay, from the top. how many drivers are there?"

"twenty."

"nope!" he shakes his head, his lips curling into a smug smirk, "there are nineteen drivers. sorry love, but you were incorrect."

"sebastian," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "you needed to specify if you were included. because if you weren't included, there would be nineteen other drivers. if you were, there would be twenty."

"that's why it's called a trick question," his hand squeezes yours, "your hands are clammy, by the way."

"maybe because i'm nervous?" you counter, "this is my first time tagging along to a grand prix, you know."

"i know," he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it tenderly, "i'm sorry for being a little pest."

"you're not a pest," your heart swells at the gesture, "i'm just anxious to meet everyone, that's all."

"oh they'll love you," confidence oozes out of his words, "i have no doubts about that."

sebastian vettel, four time world drivers' champion, was your boyfriend of the last year or so. the two of you met online, as you had slid into his dms on instagram after a very intoxicated evening out with friends.

since you had a love for formula one since you were a teenager, you admired drivers such as lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, daniel ricciardo, and well, sebastian.

you weren't quite sure where the love for the sport came from, but you could remember the sleepless nights you spent on youtube, eagerly clicking through racing highlights through various grand prixes. the sleepovers where your friends would be doing makeovers on you or painting your nails as you chattered about all of the driver drama and lore.

so, when you learned that mr. vettel was very single, and very open to the world of dating, you decided to shoot your shot. it took about six or seven drinks, but you mustered the courage to type out those fateful words.

i heard your single. we should change that.

shockingly, you received a response not too long after sending the message.

i believe it's *you're and not your. why should i take you up on your offer? you're a very beautiful woman but i need a little more information before i take you out on a date. ;)

from that message, the two of you chatted constantly, getting to know one another in-between shifts at your job, and his free time between races, press conferences, and training sessions.

eventually, he asked for your number, requesting a facetime call. you obliged, the two of you talking for hours upon hours that night. only a week or so later, he flew you out to his place in switzerland, requesting that you spend the weekend with him.

you did, falling for him the moment you met him in person. well, not like it was difficult by any means. with his charming aura and goofy persona, you felt comfortable almost immediately, letting your walls come crashing down.

nothing was too much or too out-of-pocket. you could make all of the vulgar jokes you wished, and he would laugh right along, only escalating the joke further. you could cry on his shoulder about anything, and he would happily rub your back, wiping away the tears that fell. he would hold you every night you slept together, not letting go until you wriggled away in the mornings.

and now, here you were, hand-in-hand as you entered the paddock. your heart skips a beat as your gaze falls on lance stroll, sebastian's fellow driver and teammate.

upon seeing you, his mouth curves into a bright smile, "look who it is!"

"i know you're not that excited to see me," sebastian pouts, "or did you really miss me that much?"

lance rolls his eyes at sebastian, sticking out his right hand, "good morning! i'm lance. i'm the other aston martin driver. well, you probably already know that."

"it's nice to meet you," you suppress a giggle, "i've heard a lot about you!"

"oh have you?" lance arches a brow, turning to sebastian, "have you been talking shit?"

"always pooks," sebastian chuckles, "not really. i just happen to talk a lot about racing. i'm sure she's tired of it by now."

"oh never," you flash sebastian a radiant grin, "i never get tired of all of the racing talk. i've loved formula one since i was about thirteen or so."

"that's awesome!" lance gushes, "you have yourself a keeper then, seb."

"i know i do," you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder, "should we go meet some fans? i promise they won't bite."

"fans?" you echo, a shiver running down your spine.

"well yeah," lance nods, "we have some time before we need to meet up with everyone. we usually chat with some fans, hand out some autographs. nothing too serious or glamorous."

"if you say so," you mumble, the words so quiet you were shocked you heard them.

it wasn't like you were dreading interacting with fans, it was just that you were a bit daunted by the idea.

ever since sebastian went public with you about a month ago, the reaction from the public was mixed. one half was adamant that you were too young for the driver, as there was an almost fifteen year age gap between the two of you. the plethora of negative comments that flooded the comment section of your instagram posts was almost too much to bear.

the other half, however, was very supportive, voicing that they "shipped" the two of you or that you were good for the driver. some comments even went as far to say that you were "a breath of fresh air", and that sebastian needed someone like you in his life.

yet, as the three of you stroll out of the paddock, you hoped for the latter. that the fans would be kind, welcoming you with open arms.

you could only dream, right?

"sebastian!"

"sebastian over here!"

voices flurry about, calling from all directions. everywhere all around, it was almost a sea of green, fans donning aston martin gear from head to toe. people of all ages flooded your field of vision, children hoisted on their parents shoulders to men and women in their seventies, maybe even their eighties.

"baby, can i see your purse?" his breath fans against your ear, snapping out of your trance.

"yeah," you nod, fumbling with your bag, "y-you need your sharpie, right?"

"hey," fingers find yours, intertwining them together, "it's just you and i. forget everyone else. just think about you and i."

"it's hard to-" you protest, yet you're swiftly cut off by a voice rising above the midst of the crowd.

"who invited the slut?"

sebastian's brows furrow, his eyes narrowing into slits, "what the fuck?"

more voices cut in, jeering.

"put her back in her crib! where she belongs!"

"you heard what i said! who invited that slut beside you?"

"goddamn," lance mutters under his breath, "what the fuck are they on right now?"

tears well up, threatening to spill over as you duck your head, lower lip trembling. sebastian senses your energy shift, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. he pulls you in close, pressing gentle kisses along your temple.

"come on, let's go back to the paddock. you don't deserve this."

lance flashes you a sympathetic glance before raising a hand, giving the crowd the finger, "whoever said that, this is for you!"

every aspect of the walk back is blurred as the tears fall. your lips are sealed tightly shut, suppressing the sobs rising in your chest.

you were barely here an hour and fans were already heckling you.

could you even last the weekend here?

did you even belong here?

"hey," his voice is soft, "come here."

blinking, you realize that he had taken you back to his motorhome, a private space for just the two of you. his arms are open, inviting you in. you nearly collapse into his chest, burying your head in it as he rubs your back.

"i'm so sorry."

"you don't have to be sorry," you shrug, swallowing the lump in your throat, "they're right. i don't belong here."

"stop that," fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head up, "you do belong here. you belong here just as much as anyone else does. i need you here."

"you promise?"

"i promise baby," sebastian tucks a few wisps of hair behind your ear, "you're irreplaceable. who cares what they think? just focus on me. it's just you and i this weekend, okay?"

"okay," you nod, sniffling slightly.

"you know what i think?" he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"what?" you inquire, the tears dissipating as he brings you in closer.

"they're just jealous that i have the most breathtaking, stunning, kindest, funniest girlfriend in the whole wide world. and no one, i mean no one, can take that away from me. you're mine baby. and nothing is ever going to change that."

you find yourself nearly crumbling into his chest once again, "you mean that?"

"of course i do. now, let's go try this again. if anyone is rude or hateful, i'll just spit on them, okay?"

#sebastian vettel #seb vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 #formula one #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x y/n #aston martin #aston martin racing

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 months

Text

the bad room ~ homelander;the boys

word count: 2654

request?: no

description: in which a ghost from his past returns when he needs her the most

pairing: homelander x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, lil bit of angsty angst, mentions of death and violence, mentions of threatened suicide, mentions of what homelander and reader went through in "the bad room", the boys typical stuff, spoilers for 4x04, reader was also raised in "the bad room" but is not homelander's sister we'll say she created using another supe's dna

masterlist (one, two, three)

"John?"

The name that just moments ago made him so angry he saw the brightest of reds, brought him to a halt. It wasn't the name, but rather the voice. When he turned and saw her there, he was almost certain it was a hallucination.

"(Y/N)?"

He hadn't seen her in years. Since she somehow escaped The Bad Room before he was set free of it. Before he became Homelander. But it felt like she hadn't changed at all. Not her eyes, watching him with care and concern. Not her face, just as beautiful as he remembered. Not the fuzzy feeling in his stomach just being in her presence.

He was tempted to take her in his arms and never let her go, but then he remembered the blood soaked super suit and the thick liquid still dripping from his face and hair; the blood of the people who tortured them both.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

A wry smile twisted on Homelander's face. "Visiting home."

Her eyes flickered to the building behind them. "Did you leave anyone alive?"

"Barbara."

(Y/N)'s face darkened. "Should've killed her first, very slowly and painfully."

Homelander chuckled, humorlessly. "That's quite the thing to say about your mother."

"That woman was never a mother to me."

"She raised you."

"If that's all it takes, then Vogelbaum was your dad, right?"

Homelander scowled at her. "Point taken."

(Y/N) looked him up and down. He suddenly felt very self conscious and small, even though he stood a few inches over her. They were emotions he thought he wouldn't feel anymore; human emotions. He was supposed to have left those behind in The Bad Room. That was the whole reason he had come back to this nightmare.

But he realized he wasn't feeling this way in a negative way. Well, he definitely felt ashamed that (Y/N) had to see him like this. But he realized he felt small because he was remembering every moment he and (Y/N) had in The Bad Room. She was the only good thing about that place. They kept each other going; they kept each other sane. When she suddenly disappeared, he thought the worse. He wanted to escape himself, to burn the whole place down, to burn himself with it. But he was still young, not yet The Homelander.

He later found out she was alive and had just managed to escape. He would've been angry that she didn't take him if he wasn't so heartbroken by it.

"I live nearby," (Y/N) said, breaking the silence. "You can come over and get cleaned up."

It took him a moment, but he finally registered what she had said. "Yeah. Okay. Lead the way."

(Y/N) seemed confused. "Um...I drove here."

Now it was Homelander's turn to look confused. When he realized she was being serious, he said, "Oh...okay. Well...you drive and I'll follow your car."

"You think it's a good idea to risk people seeing Homelander flying around covered in blood?"

He knew she wasn't wrong, but he hadn't driven in a car since...well, maybe ever.

"I'll clean the seats later, and it'll be less risk for your image," she said. "John...please?"

She wanted him to come over. She wanted to spend time with him. In her space. How could he say no?

That's how Homelander found himself stood under a stream of hot water in an unfamiliar bathroom. The blood ran from his face and hair, staining the water red as it ran down the drain. He found himself looking at the products she had there - her body washes and shampoo. He tried not to think too much about the fact that there were no men's products there. Although, he would've appreciated some men's body wash at the very least. He wasn't sure if he could handle using her body wash and smelling so much like her.

Eventually the water went from red to clear, so he shut it off. He wrapped one of the towels (Y/N) had left for him around his waist. He had left his suit on the floor, but now it was gone and any blood that had dripped onto the floor was cleaned. Homelander found himself blushing at the thought of (Y/N) coming into the bathroom while he was showering without him knowing, but then the blood moved from his face to a lower area.

He walked out of the bathroom and into (Y/N)'s living room. She was sat on her couch with a glass of wine in hand. He could smell bleach trying to be masked by the smell of hand lotion, which told him that she had cleaned her car while he was in the shower.

"Does that stuff get you drunk?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Of course not," she responded. "I drink it for the taste at this point."

He noticed her looking him up and down again, and he suddenly became very aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing any clothes.

"My suit..." he started.

"The cape is in my washer, but I wasn't sure how to wash the rest of it. Especially with those shoulder pads you have."

"That's okay. I can get someone back at the tower to dry clean it for me. They won't ask any questions."

(Y/N) winced and took a sip of her wine.

"I have some clothes you can borrow," she said, placing her glass down and standing from the couch.

"I don't think any of your clothes will fit me," Homelander said, a smile tugging at his lips.

She gave him a look, but he could see she was smiling as well. "They're men's clothes."

His smile suddenly fell. "Oh."

"They're my brother's."

He should've been happy for that clarification, but it only made his brow crease more. "Brother?"

"Foster brother, but I see him as an actual brother," she explained. "He stays over whenever he's in New York so he's left some clothes here. They should fit you."

He dressed in the clothes that (Y/N) gave him, but he was filled with more questions. She had a foster brother, did that mean she had a whole foster family? It would make sense, she was still a minor when she had escaped. He guessed she couldn't just live on her own under the age of 18.

But couldn't she? She had powers. She was raised to be a Supe just as powerful as himself. She could've taken care of herself, gotten whatever she wanted.

But maybe what she wanted was a real family.

But they weren't her family. They were just posing as one.

He was still turning these thoughts over in his head as she entered her living room again. She was back on the couch with a second glass of wine. He didn't drink alcohol. He was told he couldn't before. He had an image to uphold. But who cared about that image now? He literally killed a man and got away with it.

He sat next to her. She took a sip of her own wine before looking at him. "You have questions."

That was an understatement.

But she was opening the floor for him to ask everything on his mind, and he had a lot of things he wanted to know.

The first thing out of his mouth was, "Why were you there tonight?"

She seemed almost amused by this being his first question. "Barbara called me. She said there was a breach."

"What are you, their bodyguard?"

"That's what she thinks. Or...thought, I guess."

"I didn't kill her. I left her with the bodies of the people who tortured us."

(Y/N) looked at him, almost in disbelief, before a laugh slipped from her lips. "Jesus, that's worse than death. That's what she deserves."

"Why does she still have your number? You escaped, why would you want any connections to her or-or that place?"

She sighed. "It's...complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it for me."

When (Y/N) looked at him, there was no fear in her eyes. Not like most people who get this close to him, who know what he's done and have to deal with him after the fact. Instead, he saw sadness. And with it, any ounce of anger that was growing in him evaporated.

"I didn't escape, I made a deal with Barbara and Vogulbaum. I told them either they let me go and stop trying to train me and make me into their next Supe princess, or the second they let me leave the facility and put me on camera I would reveal everything those people did to us. And then...and then I'd kill myself on live television so the world knew what Vought did to us."

Homelander watched her as she took a sip of her wine. Well, a gulp more like it. She finished the contents of her glass and reached for the bottle to get herself more. He reached for his own glass and swallowed it all in two gulps. He winced at the taste and suddenly was glad he never drank before.

(Y/N) started to refill his glass when he asked, "Why didn't you take me?"

She paused. He could hear her heart rate picking up, and he could see the tears welling in her eyes.

"They wouldn't - " she started, but choked on her tears. She cleared her throat and tried again. "They wouldn't let me. I tried to negotiate it with Barbara, but she said no, and she said even if she agreed Vogelbaum never would. She said the deal was only me, and if I didn't take it then...then that was it. I had to stay, continue all the training and...experiments. Neither one of us would ever get out if I agreed to that, so...I took their deal. They rushed me out in the middle of the night so that you wouldn't know, blindfolded me so that I wouldn't know where the facility was, and then dropped me in the middle of nowhere to fend for myself. I was hitchhiking for hours when this family drove past and found me."

"What did you tell them?" Homelander asked.

"I lied and said I had no idea what happened to me. I said bad people took me and I couldn't remember who they were or where I came from. Only that I remembered my first name, the only name that Barbara gave me. They looked into missing persons and couldn't find me anywhere here or in any other state. So - "

"They took you in," he finished. "They fostered you."

(Y/N) nodded. "They wanted to adopt me officially, but that's a whole process. They became like my family anyways. Like I said, I'm still in contact with them."

"Do they know you have powers?"

She shook her head. "I haven't used my powers since I got out of there. Not on purpose, anyways. There's always the odd slip up, but that's bound to happen."

Everything she said just resulted in more questions in his head. He wanted to ask her why she never disclosed to her "family" that she had powers, but he figured the answer to that was pretty simple: she wanted to be normal.

But she's not normal. She's never been normal. She was made to be a God, like me.

Instead of saying that, he said, "You never...called. Or came by the tower or...anything. You never tried to contact me."

"I did once, remember? When you asked me to be in The Seven."

Oh, he remembered. It was just after Lamplighter had announced his intention to leave, before they put out a nation wide search for a new member that resulted in Starlight joining the team. He asked Stillwell to wait on putting out word on a search because he had someone he wanted to ask first. Reluctantly, he turned to Vogelbaum, because he knew they must've had an idea of where (Y/N) ended up. Even when he thought she had just escaped, he knew they never would've let her truly be free of them. He asked Vogelbaum to send her a message: "Please come join The Seven. It would mean the world to me if you did."

Almost immediately, Vogelbaum called the tower to let Homelander know she had responded. "She said I'm sorry, but I can't."

He was locked in his room for days after that.

Now, he scoffed at her bringing up that memory. "That's not trying to contact me. That's responded to me trying to contact you, and having to go through Vogelbaum of all people to do it. You basically fell off the face of the Earth to me, but I was readily available to you if you ever gave enough of a fuck to reach out."

"You think I didn't care?!" (Y/N) snapped, standing from the couch. "You think I wasn't thinking of you every second after I got out of that hell hole?! That I wasn't trying for years to figure out where the hell they had you hidden so I could come save you, too? I tried everything John! I looked everywhere that I could, but I was too late. They were already parading you around on TV as the next Soldier Boy! The second they announced you'd be the leader of The Seven, I knew I was too late. They had already corrupted you too much, you were already another Supe pawn in Vought's attempts at global domination. I couldn't handle that. I couldn't try to pry you away from that when I knew you would never leave the spotlight. How could you? You're the world's greatest superhero, you had everyone at your feet. And I was just the girl who ran away from that life and stopped using her powers. How could you ever choose me over that?"

"I would've chosen you every time!" Homelander snapped back, getting to his feet as well to stand over her. "That's why I asked you to join The Seven!"

"But that's not what I wanted, John! I didn't want to be a hero. If I took you up on your offer, I would be letting Barbara and Vogelbaum and all of those other fuckers win. I just wanted to be normal! I wanted me and you to be normal!"

"But we're not fucking normal!"

Tears were running down her face as she backed away from him. He realized then that he was crying, too. So much built up emotion between the two of them was finally coming out. They both needed it, but goddamn, Homelander felt his heart breaking all over again.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Suddenly, (Y/N) was throwing herself at him. Her arms were around his neck, holding onto him for dear life, and her lips were on his. He was surprised at first, but quickly wrapped his arms around her to hold her to him. He could taste the salt of their tears mixed with the wine they had been drinking. It was messy and far from the perfect kiss, but neither of them cared. It was the cultivation of years of emotions between them.

(Y/N) pulled away first. She rested her forehead against his, looking into his bright blue eyes. "I can't be your perfect Supe counterpart. I can't be a Supe, John, you have to understand that."

"I do," he said. "Whatever you need, I won't push you. I just want you back."

"You can have me," she said, her voice a whisper but he could still hear her plain as day. "You always had me."

He leaned in to kiss her again, picking her up in his arms as he did so. He never wanted to let her go again, so he wouldn't.

#homelander #homelander imagine #homelander x reader #antony starr #antony starr x reader #antony starr imagine #the boys #the boys imagine #one shot #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 5 months

Text

Reader receives Yelenas nudes accidentally

Authors note: this probably doesn't actually count as an accident but I felt like it kinda still is I think? Anyway, hope you enjoy

Authors note 2.0: sorry it took so long to release this 💖

Word count: 796

Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

As the blonde tosses back another shot, her mind not only swirls with the effects of the alcohol but with an idea as well. It’s a bad idea, and will likely end with her having regrets and being embarrassed. But in her current state those things don’t really bother her like they should. So she decides to go ahead with the bad idea.

With a smirk she pulls out her phone and clumsily opens the messaging app. She clicks on her earlier conversation with you and then goes to add a picture. She scrolls through her camera roll until she finds her hidden album that contains the few naughty pics she's taken.

She spends probably far too long staring at her options before choosing one and attaching it to your messages. She debates on if she wants to send anything flirtatious with it, but in her muddled state she realizes she would probably do a poor job of getting any point across to you. So instead of adding anything she just presses send.

After realizing that yes, she did actually go through with it she sets her phone down and takes another shot, “O Bozhe(oh god)”

You're in your room across the compound, lazily lounging on your bed as you scroll through netflix looking for something to watch when your phone alerts you to a new message. Being as late as it is, you figured that not many of the other heroes would be up and wanting to chat, so the fact that one of them was texting you was a bit exciting because it meant you didn’t have to be bored alone.

You quickly grab your phone to see a text from Yelena and you smile. The two of you had become fast friends when Nat brought her onto the team, and have only gotten closer since. In fact, if you had to admit it you were harboring a not so small crush on the woman. But there was no way in hell you’d ever admit that, especially to her.

At least that's what you thought. But when you open her message to see a picture of not only her smug smirk but her bare breasts as well, you contemplate running off to her right then and there and admitting everything. You however manage to reign in that thought to fully think about the situation first and decide to type out a reply

Uh, Lena?

It takes her a minute to actually respond, Yes?

It's far too brief of a reply for you though and it also steps around the elephant in the messages entirely, You sent me a nude….

Yes.

You bite back the urge to ask if that was the only word she knew and instead decide to make this conversation an in person one. You shove your phone into your pocket and head off to find her. The first place you go is of course her room, and you knock on the door. There's a rustling on the other side before you hear footsteps, and that's when you realize something else must be going on here because you've never heard the spies' footsteps.

The door opens with quite a bit of enthusiasm, causing your brows to shoot up and your confusion only doubles when Yelena's face beams at you from the doorway.

“Y/n, hiii” she greets before giggling a bit. The smell of alcohol on her breath is apparent and you try not to laugh but it's a bit hard when she shushes herself. That's when you manage to get a glimpse behind her and into the room however, and the sight nearly empty vodka bottle on her bed and the few empty beer bottles on her bedside table has all the dots connecting for you

“Lena, you drink all that by yourself?”

She turns her entire body to look at where your gesturing and sways a bit, “Yup”

You can’t help but chuckle at the way she pops the p sound, “Well, that explains the picture then”

You had said it under your breath but she had still heard you and turns back around, “Oh yes! You like?”

“Lena I…” you're honestly at a loss for words. Because yes you did like it, but you can’t tell her that while she's so clearly drunk because she might hear your yes and see that as a way to attempt to do other activities. Activities she absolutely can’t consent to in her current state

“You didn’t” her frown brings you back out of your thoughts and you want nothing more than to kiss it off her face

Instead you gently cup her face, “How about, we get you tucked into bed and we talk about that wonderful pic in the morning”

Taglist: @lollygagger-s

#yelena belova x reader #yelena x reader #yelena belova #yelena x y/n #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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themultifanshipper · 5 months

Text

Really, even though you were friends, the last thing Logan should be asking the Williams HR representative about, in her office, is sex.

Warnings: oral, petnames, lots of petnames

Based on true events that happened to me last week. Only difference is it was in my appartment, and I didn't actually come.

Do I use too much italics? Probably. Do I care? Not one iota.

So yeah, this was probably breaching several clauses in both your contracts.

But Logan came into your office, looking a bit sheepish, and sat down on the grey sofa in the corner without a word. You just stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he just avoided your gaze.

"What can I do for you Logan?"

He didn't answer, just squinting at the floor, contemplative.

He came into your office quite often. Probably more than was strictly appropriate but after all, you used to be on the media team and had become friends with most of the drivers during your years at williams. Usually Logan and Alex (and occasionally others who "happened to be passing by") would come in for a chat, generally cheerful or angry or sad, depending on the kind of day they were having.

Today however, Logan was fully silent.

"Logan?"

He squinted again, this time at you, trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind.

"Lo, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong"

He took a deep breath before responding.

"So you know I'm a virgin, right?"

You, in fact, did not know that. You didn't think you were that close a friend, although you didn't exactly mind. It was just a bit sudden.

"What?!"

"Well technically I had sex once but it went really badly. And I haven't had any practice since, because I'm scared of picking up girls because I don't know what I'm doing and I'm an F1 driver so I'm supposed to be having loads of sex but imagine I'm really bad and it got out, it would be super embarrassing and I'd have to ask you, my friend, for an NDA about bad sex, which is just another level of weird and I'd hate for you to stop tal-"

"Logan!"

He stopped ranting and looked at you, obviously feeling rather vulnerable.

"Logan... have you just come into my office to tell me you're inexperienced at sex?"

He pursed his lips and frowned.

"Yes"

"Okay.... why?"

"Because I want you to teach me how to pleasure a woman"

He looked you straight in the eyes, with way too much confidence for someone who was suddenly eligible for a lawsuit.

You raised your eyebrows at him. "Logan, couldn't have waited until... oh I don't know, until we weren't in our workplace to ask me for sex?"

"Um... I guess?" He had the audacity to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I read this wrong. Do you uhh- not want to?"

You studied him for a second. What the fuck. It wasn't that the idea was unappealing, he was an attractive young driver with probably incredible stamina. Which is why you found the idea of him being inexperienced so odd. And why was he asking you for... guidance? A lesson? It was weird to think of him as anything other than your friend slash coworker Logan, who you had now known for nearly two years.

If someone had told you this morning that this is how your day was going to go, you would have told them to fuck off and gone back to sleep. You realised you must be taking too long to respond when Logan sighed and rubbed his face.

"Okay nevermind, I'm sorry I brought it up, we can just- pretend this conversation never happened"

He sounded almost sad as he got up to leave but stopped as you blurted out "No, wait!"

He stared at you questioningly.

"I'll do it" You sounded breathless "I'll teach you- how to do uhh... sex. With me."

His eyes lit up as he laughed "I hope you'll be more articulate than that "

"Oh fuck off" you hit his shoulder in retaliation "You're the one who looked like you were going to shit a brick when you walked in here!"

"Hey! That's a low blow" He pouted.

The atmosphere became more comfortable with the bickering but there was still an undercurrent of nervousness. He took a couple of steps towards you and leaned in but you stopped him with a hand on his unsurprisingly firm chest.

"You want to do this now?" You hissed "Are you fucking mental?"

He pouted again "why not, the bosses aren't here today, it's just us, and the engineers are working on the cars" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Well when you put it that way....

Fuck's sake.

You leaned in slowly, as if aiming for his mouth before swerving at the last second and pecked him on the cheek before whispering in his ear. "Lock the door for me will you, darling?"

His eyes darkened "Yes ma'am" and he turned away to lock the door.

You sat down on the sofa and spread your legs, beckoning him over and silently motioning for him to kneel between them. He did so and put his hands on your thighs, then looked up at you expectantly.

Oh, right. You were supposed to be teaching him.

"Okay so first you're gonna want to get me naked"

He giggled at your obvious statement before hooking his fingers into your waistband. "Sure thing, princess" Pulling them down and off, underwear soon following as he let out a breath, eyes and hands roaming over your newly exposed skin. "Shit, you're already so wet." He looked up at you again.

"Can I?" He asked.

So polite.

"Be my guest" you smiled at him as he lowered his body. He kissed the inside of your thighs, slowly inching towards where you needed him most. When he got there, you let out a strained half-sigh half-moan as he licked a stripe from your taint to your clit. The noise made him look up as he licked his lips, eye contact making you shiver. He then spread your thighs further and immediately buried his face between them like man starved, making a valiant effort to find your clit with his tongue.

"A bit lower- lower- a bit right. Wait no, your right"

He followed your instructions dilligently and when he found it, he sucked on your clit with fervour, which made you gasp and let out a shaky moan. "There, right there." as your right hand weaved itself into his hair.

Eyes on yours, he blinked up at you and you nodded to tell him he was doing a good job. Satisfied, he carried on, closing his eyes in concentration.

You grabbed one of his hands and started licking at his fingers, it startled him a bit and he looked back up at you, still surprisingly efficient with his mouth. The sight was absolutely sinful, blonde hair a mess, eyes blown wide, tongue out, working over your flesh. When you sucked one of his fingers into your mouth, straight down to the knuckle, he groaned, the vibrations making your hips twitch. You slid a second finger into your mouth, then a third, ensuring they were nice and wet, then pulled them out. "You can start putting them inside now".

He put the first one in, reaching so much deeper than you could manage on your own, all the while still lapping at your clit. You were so wet it didn't take long for a second one to join as he pushed them in and out gently.

"Okay now sort of hook them upwards" you showed him the movement with your own hand and he nodded, hooking his fingers and it felt so good you moaned quite loudly, hoping none of the engineers would be passing by your part of the building. He put a third finger in and the stretch was delicious as he pressed upwards again and flattened his tongue over your clit.

You could slowly feel an orgasm building and he felt you clench around his fingers, going slightly faster with both his hand and mouth.

"Oh god whatever you do, do not stop!" You panted above him as he used his other hand to hook a leg over his shoulder and he sat up a bit, changing your position slightly and making his fingers hit even deeper inside you.

"Fuck!" You clenched around his fingers as you came hard and he slowed down, helping you ride it out for a while before you had to physically push him off because he wanted to seemingly carry on forever.

"Geez Lo, give a girl a minute, yeah?" You laughed, a bit out of breath. You felt boneless as Logan started kissing his way up your body and finally sealed his mouth over yours. His face was sticky, and your hands went to his hair and pulled on it, making him groan into the kiss. You pulled his head back and he whined, his hips bucking against the sofa, searching for some relief. You lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Please" he panted. You glanced down.

"Need some help down there, soldier?"

He grinned, lopsided. "Sargeant, actually"

Oh yes, you were going to have some fun with this one.

#my thots #logan sargeant #logan thots #ls2 #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut #f1 #formula 1 rpf

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stupidphototricks · 1 month

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Dwarf tradition, in The Truth. Long quote but there is so much to unpack here.

"A dwarf needs gold to get married." "What… like a dowry? But I thought dwarfs didn't differentiate between--" "No, no, the two dwarfs getting married each buy the other dwarf off their parents." "Buy?" said William. "How can you buy people?" "See? Cultural misunderstanding once again, lad. It costs a lot of money to raise a young dwarf to marriageable age. Food, clothes, chain mail… it all adds up over the years. It needs repaying. After all, the other dwarf is getting a valuable commodity. And it has to be paid for in gold. That's traditional. Or gems. They're fine, too. You must've heard our saying 'worth his weight in gold'? Of course, if a dwarf's been working for his parents, that gets taken into account on the other side of the ledger. Why, a dwarf who's left off marrying till late in life is probably owed quite a tidy sum in wages—You're still looking at me in that funny way…" "It's just that we don't do it like that…" mumbled William. Goodmountain gave him a sharp look. "Don't you, now?" he said. "Really? What do you use instead, then?" "Er… gratitude, I suppose," said William. He wanted this conversation to stop, right now. It was heading out over thin ice. "And how's that calculated?" "Well… it isn't, as such…" "Doesn't that cause problems?" "Sometimes." "Ah. Well, we know about gratitude, too. But our way means the couple start their new lives in a state of… g'daraka… er, free, unencumbered, new dwarfs. Then their parents might well give them a huge wedding present, much bigger than the dowry. But it is between dwarf and dwarf, out of love and respect, not between debtor and creditor… though I have to say these human words are not really the best was of describing it. It works for us. It has worked for a thousand years." "I suppose to a human it sounds a bit… chilly," said William. Goodmountain gave him another studied look. "You mean by comparison to the warm and wonderful ways humans conduct their affairs?" he said. "You don't have to answer that one. Anyway, me and Boddony want to open up a mine together, and we're expensive dwarfs. We know how to work lead, so we thought a year or two of this would see us right." "You're getting married?" "We want to," said Goodmountain. "Oh… well, congratulations," said William. He knew enough not to comment on the fact that both dwarfs looked like small barbarian warriors with long beards. All traditional dwarfs looked like that.* *Most dwarfs were still referred to as "he" as well, even when they were getting married. It was generally assumed that somewhere under all that chain mail one of them was female and that both of them knew which one this was. But the whole subject of sex was one that traditionally minded dwarfs did not discuss, perhaps out of modesty, possibly because it didn't interest them very much, and certainly because they took the view that what two dwarfs decided to do together was entirely their own business. — Terry Pratchett, The Truth

I super love the footnote, of course, but unexpectedly now I kind of want this version of a dowry to be a thing. I mean, the dowries of the bad old days where the man basically bought the woman from her parents, that's not okay. But this.

I'm a parent, and in no way do I feel like my kid owes me for their upbringing, education, or even (I'm anticipating) a few years of post-college living at home. Not at all. I can't imagine not taking care of them or attaching any strings to that care.

But that's not what this is. Really, ideally, it's a way for parents and children to give each other the gift of the child's independence, their autonomy, their adulthood. To officially and tangibly say that their relationship from this point on is no longer parent/child, but something more on an equal level.

For that matter, I imagine the child is free not to have a relationship with their parents any more at all, if they want. No obligation, no guilt. If parents want to be in their kids' lives when they're adults, they'll need to make sure their kids actually like them as people.

Well. I know that our world of humans doesn't work like this. Even if we put a monetary value on what we owed our parents and paid it, we'd still feel obligated to them, at least a little. Even if our kids paid us back, we'd still feel like we had the right to control them, at least a little.

But man. That g'daraka thing sounds wonderful.

#terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #discworld #discworld quotes #william de worde #gunilla goodmountain #the truth #and also spoiler but after this it hits so hard in the book when william tries to buy himself from his father

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rainydaydreamsideblog · 9 months

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(X-Men) Logan Howlett x Reader: The Injury

Logan is angry with you for taking a hit in battle that was meant for him

Word Count: 839

Warnings: vague reference to injury

“Hey! Kid. What was that about?” he demanded. “Did’ya hear me? I said, what was that about?” His expression was nothing short of utterly ticked off- which was pretty par for the course for Logan.

You simply stared straight ahead, pursing your lips. If you could cross your arms in your current state, you would. It just so happened that your injury was still too sore even with the pain meds Jean had given you.

He scoffed at your defiant silence and shifted his weight to the other foot, hip jutting out in a casual stance as he ran a hand down his face in exasperation. Even so, as irate as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice. Not when you looked so, well, fragile as you sat there in the medical wing bed.

If it had been him taking the hit, the wounds would have been gone for hours already by now. Instead, you would be spending the next few days recovering here at the minimum.

It just didn’t add up.

“Were you trying to be some hero?” He started pacing toward the other side of the wing, glancing out the window. You were never quite sure why he did that from time to time, but you guessed that he was checking the surroundings for danger out of habit. “Do I need to remind you that I heal instantly, and you don’t?”

“It’s just-” you started to snap, but stopped yourself, shaking your head.

“It’s just what?” he questioned impatiently.

You whipped your head around to meet his gaze furiously. “I don’t see you that way! You’re not a punching bag! Just because you can heal, it’s not your job to take all of the pain all the time!”

Logan took a few steps closer, blood pressure lowering as he processed what you were telling him. Your gaze lowered to study your folded hands as the silence stretched on.

His voice quieted in a familiar, almost gentle, husky tone. “It’s not your job to take everyone else’s pain all the time.”

It made your heart nearly melt into putty inside your chest. He never failed to have that effect on you each and every day in the halls of Xavier’s School.

Your own voice lowered to a whisper. “I know. But when you have an ability like mine…it becomes hard to watch people get hurt. Especially the ones you care about.” You shook your head. “I can absorb the pain and hurt of everyone else, Logan. But not yours. For once, I just… I wanted to.”

He was a man who could recover from the worst of injuries within minutes. You were a woman who could absorb the damage from others at a cost to your own health. His own ability worked too fast for yours to be effective on him. And since you were to absorb from others, there was no way for you to heal yourself…Well, not one that you were willing to take, anyway.

The bed dipped as Logan took a seat at the edge, his back to you.

“I’d be over it by now, you know,” he said. “I hate seein’ you in here for the others as it is. You don’t need to add me to the list.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, biting back a wince. “Too bad.”

“Look,” he released a sigh, turning to meet your gaze again. You found yourself absolutely captivated by his brown eyes as they bore into yours. “Next time, just let me handle it. I’d take a few seconds of that over watching you sit in here for days, or worse. Got me?”

You hesitated, and he lifted a brow, tilting his head.

Finally, you nodded in defeat. “Okay.” It wasn’t a bargain you wanted to strike, but how could you argue? “Still, it would make it easier on me if you didn’t get yourself hurt as much.”

At that, he gave a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, sure.”

“Oh, and while you’re here…” You bit your lip, looking down. “Um, would it be too much to ask you to cover my classes for me today?”

He rolled his eyes. “Professor already asked me.”

You smiled warmly at his and Xavier’s thoughtfulness. “I see. Thank you.”

“Just focus on gettin’ out of here.”

Logan gave your shoulder a pat, extra careful not to disturb your injury, and stood up. He strutted out of the med wing and paused to give you one more warning look- a final reminder to get well. You nodded, holding back a smile.

A little while later, Storm visited to see how you were doing. She brought some things from your room to occupy yourself with as you recovered. You thanked her profusely and happily grabbed the first book, which was one you were already halfway through, and resumed reading.

Still, your mind kept wandering back to your interaction with Logan. Sometimes, you wished you could just tell him how you felt… But you weren’t ready to take that risk.

Not yet…

#x-men #x men #x men reader insert #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett reader insert #x-men logan howlett x reader #x-men reader insert #x-men imagine #logan howlett imagine #x men imagine #xmen #xmen imagine #xmen reader insert #xmen x reader #xmen fanfiction #logan howlett fanfiction #x-men fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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fillinforlater · 10 months

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Eleven to One: Pet Play

Male Reader x Choi Yena

Length: 3966 words

Tags: pet play, you knew that, pet/master dynamic, blowjob, bad table manners, indulging in the pet kink, collar and leash, spankingas punishment, undressing, doggy, creampie, sex toys, overstimulation, kitten!Yena

TW: I guess if you don't like kitten Yena...

Inspiration: The great works of @writerpeach and @worldsover. Go check out their work on this specific... let's call it topic.

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being my awesome co-writer and instigator of many BFH-sessions

(A/N: Looks like someone else is added to the family-harem, this time with a bit of an set up. Check out the previous story with the teaser for this one! Oh, and here are all the other chapters. Enjoy!)

"Sho tashty~"

Minju has no table manners, talking with food in her mouth. Well, the 'food' in question is your cock she is feverishly sucking from underneath the table while you and Yujin enjoy a nice, quick breakfast before Yujin has to leave for a group schedule. That's also why Minju is the only one naked, something she is perfectly accustomed to ever since you found the right room temperature for her.

"Before you go, I'll let you know that we have to move into a hotel for a week," you say as Yujin takes her final sip of coffee.

"Why is that?"

"I bought the penthouse below and above us and want to connect them via some automated staircase. I promised the construction company a huge bonus if they finish in a week, so it shouldn't be longer than this. Damn Mr. Kim, I’d love to buy the entire building, but he is too greedy."

"Daddy," Minju asks from below, her soft fingers massaging your balls while she twirls your cockhead. "Why do we need so much space, so many rooms? Isn't this big enough?"

You take a quick glance at Yujin who shakes her head. This is not the right time, don't introduce Minju to the full family plan yet. Especially not when she is busy playing with cock, the only thing on her mind, on her tongue.

"I'll tell you later, Minmin."

"And I'll see you two later," Yujin says and gives you a quick tongue kiss while cupping your cheek. Too bad you can't cup hers because you are busy playing with Minju's hair. That’s not even a first world problem, so you’ll live with it. "Love you, Daddy."

"Love you too.

"Hey, Minmin, did you drop the bowl on purpose earlier?" you ask with Yujin out the door. Minju looks utterly confused, which is heart-meltingly cute.

"Why would Minmin do that, Daddy?"

"So I'd punish you and make you suck my dick?"

"B-but Minmin can suck your dick just by crawling in your office and opening my mouth. Why would she break Daddy's bowl?"

You laugh a little. This girl is too pure and impure at the same time.

Going on a date without Yujin feels quite odd, you must admit. What's even weirder is that you won't need to do it in secrecy, hidden from literally everyone. Today you just walk into the cafe, a gift underneath your arm and look for your date, a girl with colorful hair. At least she was last seen with light pink strands during a meet and greet.

In the corner of the cafe is a table, in full light of the sunshine, falling in through crystal windows, and at said table is a small person, covered in a bucket hat, sunglasses and a large, black overcoat. Someone who likes to hide their identity to the world, but not you, because a flock of pink hair she flaunts from underneath the hat confirms your suspicion. It is your date.

"Do you mind if I just—"

"Oh, no, please, sit down~"

As you pull back the chair to have a seat, you intently watch the young woman remove her glasses and reveal her face to you. This is your first time seeing the Choi Yena up close in person, and with her gleeful smile, she really looks like a duck or cat or something adorable that you want to cuddle.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," you tell her and raise your hand to get the waitress's attention. "Can I invite you for a treat or a beverage?"

"Oh, I'd love to," Yena says, mocking your formal, almost posh way of speaking, before she has a light bulb moment. "Wait, you're very—let’s say well off, right? Can I order whatever I want?"

Now the ducky cat has puppy eyes, for no reason, really. You're here on this friendly date and she seems to have some sort of issue that only a wise person can resolve—of course you'll treat her.

"Get yourself whatever you want, but please." You lean forward and whisper. "Don't order too much. I find it embarrassing if they have to throw good food away."

Yena grins widely and nods, before going on a spree to order all kinds of cupcakes, pastries and milkshakes. You raise an eyebrow and calmly sip your coffee as she digs down sweet treat after sweet treat after sweet treat. To your surprise, she is not only fully capable of eating all of it, but also willing to talk about the most random shit while stuffing her face with sugary goods.

Yena lacks table manners, just like Minju did this morning.

You sit there and listen. Yena mostly talks about her daily life, mixed in with complaints about her company and sudden outbursts of adoration for IVE and their super star Yujin and how happy she is for you two.

Then she goes on tangents about IZ*ONE and what the girls have been up to. She is sad about Wonyoung, who apparently decided to pursue some rich people stuff, just like Hyewon, but when you tell her that you and Hyewon are rather close (yeah, that's all you will tell her for now), she lights up once more.

"Really? I only heard rumors about her new, joined company buying huge shares in Starship. Do you like working for Hyewon-unnie?"

You put your cup of tea down and smile. "Something like that, yeah. But now, Yena, I'm pretty sure you're avoiding something."

"Wha-what do you mean?" Yena sweats profusely, not because the overcoat is too thick, though it is, but because you finally want to get to the point. Why were you here again?

"You know what I mean. The reason you wrote the letter, Yena. You have to tell me why, all I can do is make assumptions."

Yena wraps her lips around the straw of her milkshake and quickly drinks the remaining droplets until she makes this annoying slurping sound that has your temple in scrunches. Before you can complain however, Yena finally speaks up.

"I'll tell you, bu-but can you at least guess what it's about first."

"I can, but I have to warn you, I'm very honest and upfront, no nonsense, I might trample over your feelings or say something absurd, rude even."

Yena blushes and gulps. She is all ears to what you're about to say, which has you confident that your guess is spot on.

"I believe that you are very unsatisfied with your sex life and unsure how to act out the stuff you like, so you try to look for someone with experience who you can trust but is also not in your closessed circle."

"Is it that obvious!?” Yena quickly responds as not to let awkward silence fill a possible void in this conversation.

You nod and Yena throws her hands dramatically into the air. She looks embarrassed and a bit distraught that you were able to look right through her, without shame or hesitation.

However, to your pleasant surprise, she is able to gather herself and speak like a proper grown up about her sexual frustration:

"Yeah, you were spot on. I have a lot of free time in between comebacks and schedules, which is nice and all, but I-I'm unsure about hook ups and scared that someone will... leak stuff. So I wanted to try normal dating, but even among other stars that is so ha-ard. I just want to fu-uck."

"That is very understandable," you say and lean back into the chair, feeling a bit like a therapist with an immorally large bulge in your pants. "But don't you think you could find a very loyal fan, who'd do anything for you, have an NDA ready and go for it? Or maybe you could go out of country, where they don't know you? I bet you still have a lot of options, and with a pretty face like yours, you're bound to find more than enough people to fu-uck."

Yena pouts at you mocking her pronunciation.

"But that's a lot of effort and little guarantee. I want something reliable, in this country and I can’t wait any longer.”

"You want a relationship where you can trust the other person," you summarize. "So... what was your goal with all this? We don't know each other and I'm in a relationship with Yujin. I don't get this from you point of view."

"I-I, it's just that I—I need someone with experience to guide me through this. And I have seen Yujin, her happiness, her smile, the glow around her. That's a woman that has good sex all the time, so please, tell me your secret."

"I'm the secret, Yena. Do you want to take me from Yujin?" You stand up straight, face stern as Yena looks up at you, helpless and needy. "Finish up your milkshake, we'll take this somewhere else. Don't forget your present."

You picked out a nearby hotel, actually the first one that crossed your eyesight. As is often the case, you underestimated how high end these places can actually be. You already consider making this your home for the week your flat becomes unlivable. Minju won’t say anything against it, Yujin though might want something even more posh and polished.

Good thing that you decided to wear that brown thousand dollar suit that makes you look like a mixture between gangster and manager, otherwise bringing a fully costumed stranger with you would have been an eye raiser. Now you're just some less important person bringing a celebrity to their room.

But it's your room, your money, your decision what’s about to happen. Yena walks in after you and stands in the middle of the vast, cozy room, adorned with all kinds of paintings, a carpet on a wooden floor, an impeccable color scheme from the darkest of brown to a soft beige. You sit down on the bed and look at the still dressed idol expectantly.

"Hm, which present do you want to open first: mine or yours?" you ask her, voice in deep thought as Yena removes her glasses once more.

"I-I don't know what you mean by your present but I think I'll open this."

Yena taps the wrapped box nervously, hoping for some kind of reaction from your part, but you leave her hanging and after agonizing seconds she begins to rip into the colorful wrapping paper. Yena opens the lid beneath and her eyes open wide.

"I know what you want, Yena. Don't underestimate me. Be blunt, be honest, most importantly,

"Be my good little pet, hm?"

Yena takes deep breaths when she pulls out a long, silver chain with a leather handle on one end and her favorite collar on the other. There is more inside it though: a pink feeding bowl with a cute kitten on it as well as a bullet vibrator, its cord and remote and a thigh strap.

Yena drops the box and most items on the creme carpet when you put her chin between two of your fingers and tilt it up. She looks dreamy, you must have hit the spot to activate endless sexual possibilities and the urge to succumb to them right now. Honestly, you too have always wondered what it would be like to have a pet cat and now she is right here, ready to purr for you.

"What are you?" you ask, quietly, firmly, unmistakable power in your eyes. Yena melts in your fingers.

"Masters... good pet."

"Very good. After I have opened up my present, I expect my kitten to get into character. Because that is what good kittens do."

Without ever breaking eye contact, you begin to pop open the buttons of Yena's overcoat until it's time for the zipper to open up the curtains. In the meantime Yena loses her hat—maybe her mind along with it. You are in no rush to have her bare before you, after all, you left the world of haste and constant work behind. It's time to indulge in this thrilling moment, feel every second of this new life.

"Wow, what a beautiful kitten I have," you coo when you look at the skimpy stage outfit on Yena's body, a radical contrast to the all covering black of her overcoat which is thrown behind the bed. The shortest of white shorts and a crop top that barely fits her are all that's left to hide Yena's private parts.

"Now, how about I give my kitten the proper accessories, hm? C'mon, get the collar."

She is in a bit of a daze, your kitten, clumsily bowing down and reaching for the chain. Before she can straighten her back, you kick it out of her hand, and sigh deeply in disappointment.

"No, no, no, not like that. Get it like the little kitten you are."

The kick had her stunned, hurt a bit even, but now she knows what to do. Teaching your pet how to behave properly comes first, before any fun tricks can be trained. Yena begins to kneel and crawls to the collar. She picks the leather handle up with her teeth and carries it to you.

"Good girl, you've done very well." Your praise comes with another reward. The tips of your fingers begin to scratch and tickle Yena's chin and she calmly purrs, lays her cheek into your hand, fuck, she isn't even cat coded anymore—

—she is living this.

"Kitten, I have many obligations, you know? Caring for Yujin is a handful too. But you, you'll be a good kitten for your Master, won't you? You'll never cause me any trouble, right?”

Yena responds with rapid nods. From her point of view, you are doing her a huge favor, with or without the approval of Yujin. She thinks you are taking risks and loves you for it. Her devotion is only natural, so you happily offer her a couple of fingers to suck on.

While Yena indulges in getting her drool all over your fingers, you get the tight collar around her throat. It's a good thing that she already sent you this one, a different kind might not have been such a perfect fit. This one looks so natural on her and the thin chain is a great addition.

"My kitten has fine taste. I think she deserves some belly rubs."

If she had a tail, Yena would probably swing it around in excitement. She won't go long without one, you already have plans of buying hundreds of toys for her—well, okay, these "plans" are just now forming, you’ll have to adjust the shopping list later—and a tail is at the top of that list.

Purrs when Yena rolls over playfully, her arms and feet stretched away from her like paws and thanks to that crop top, you have perfect access to her midriff. The moment you touch her navel, she unexpectedly kicks upwards, right into your chest. A stinging pain, one you have to swallow down with a heavy gulp. That's how they are, wild, young, untrained pets.

Nevertheless, they have to be taught properly. A good punishment is an essential part of their training.

"Some lying pet you are!” you snap at her. “How fucking dare you kick your Master!"

Yena wanted to make a deal with the devil, a deal to be your pet. Unlike Minju or even Hyewon, she wants to be your literal property, not your girl, property and not a human. The treatment has to match the deal.

You easily lift the petrified idol-turned-kitten off the ground and place her bend over on your lap. Yena's cute, firm little butt is in your striking zone, while she desperately turns to face you. You hook a finger into her waistband and pull her shorts down to the folds of her asscheeks.

"Are you sorry, Kitten, for kicking your Master?" you ask Yena with a deeply judging tone. She nods with a deeply sorry expression. "Say that you're sorry!"

"I-I'm sorry, Master. I was a dumb kitten." Not enough meows in that sentence, but you will work on that later.

"What do you think you deserve now, kitten?"

"I de-deserve to be punished by Master.”

"That is right, kitten." You barely touch Yena's butt with the tips of your fingers, and she is already stiffening, readying for impact. To her surprise, your digits rather gently dig into her small cheeks and massage them in preparation. "But are you really sorry?"

"Yes, Master, yes I am—ah!"

The first hit always stings the most, to the point where involuntary tears stream down one's face and lips quiver uncontrollably. You don't let your hand rest on the red spot, instead lifting it up and striking again to make Yena's butt sore all over.

"You don't mean these words. I will have to hit you more."

"N-no, please!" Yena tries to push her upper body up but you make sure to keep her down, pinned to your thighs. "Master, I really, really am sorry!"

Another slap, straight on the same spot, enough to make Yena squirm out a pained meow. In the ensuing set of a dozen hits, six on each beautiful ass cheek, your kitten winces more and more, like a cat hurt in the wild. It tugs at your heart strings, surprisingly, but you continue regardless. When the set is finished, your fingers travel down Yena’s creek to her pussy.

"Do you like to be hit, kitten?" you ask calmly, two fingers gliding across Yena's labia, finding her clit. Yena purrs and shakes her head. "Do you think you need more punishment?"

"No, Master. Please, stop. I'll be a good kitten for you. I’m sorry."

Those dreamy, teary, glassy eyes—could they ever lie?

"I believe you.” A small pat on her head. “God, you are very cute, your hair is so silky and your little entrance is already getting wet." You remove your digits and show the tiny strings of arousal that remain in between when you spread them before her eyes.

You take your time, again, no reason to rush. Climb on the bed, watch Yena rest on her knees before it. A light tug at the chain and Yena gets it. Today, she'll be allowed on the bed, just for this special occasion.

"Thank you, Master," she purrs and you comb through the pink, smooth hair. You give her a final smile before getting behind her. Belts and pants have never stopped you from getting what you need, to the point you'll probably disregard them entirely in the future.

This future in your home, with all these girls; Yujin and Minju already live there, Eunbi and Hyewon will surely follow. Chaewon is a wild card, probably a couple of sessions away from any commitment. And then there is Yena.

Will she commit to being your pet full time? Or is this a one off thing for her, to get rid of all the sexual tension you feel on her soaked and hot pussy lips that graze your tip? The extent of her kink is still a mystery to you.

"Relax, my little kitten, here comes your favorite cock.”

How can she know if this is her favorite? It's been ages since something this big and girthy has spread her open, pushed past any tension and made her feel full. Comparing this to those she had in the past is impossible—but not because of the difference in time or position or foreplay.

The comparison fails because your massiveness makes Yena's brain short circuit. All stages of humanity and human behavior are shut off; when your tip presses against her cervix, she goes straight to purring, meowing more than moaning.

Yena is incredibly tight, mostly because this is the first time she has something so big inside her, you assume, so you give her time for adjustments, slow movements, even slower rubs on her back, then her belly.

"Let's get rid of this." And you do get rid of her top, see her small breasts jiggle, the tiny, hard nipples too, when Yena is ready to move on her own.

Her kitten butt moves in a mesmerizing dance, not only a linear back and forth, but a subtle shimmy from side to side. You get to see your cock glazed in her sweet juice, then it disappears in that cavern again. Up to this point, you're just kneeling behind your kitten, undressing further and further, sometime pulling the chain to get her back into that doggy position—it seems that she likes the slow fuck.

"You are such a good kitten," you groan and lean towards Yena's ear until she can't push backwards anymore. "What do you say, next time we're alone, you get some ears and a tail?"

"Bu-but Master," Yena murmurs, face now in the mattress because you start pushing yourself into her. "What about Yujinnie, your girlfriend?"

"Don't you want to stay with us? Get head pats from my good baby girl too?"

Don't give her time to think about it. This revelation of your open and rather complex relationship might have been too early. So thrust harder into her and make the entire bed shake, her brain a useless mush. Yena's toes curl as she bites the sheets below her and lifts her ass a bit higher for easier access. She gets wetter and tighter, a clear sign of enjoyment, of thrill that is soon to be bliss.

Without warning you yank at the chain. Yena chokes hard, quickly getting back into the doggy position which you immediately use to fuck her roughly against the backboard of the bed.

The chain in your hand, the thought of a personal pet and its snug cunt make you greedy for your own orgasm which always comes before hers, however only in terms of relevance. Yena has finally adjusted to your width, length and the harsh grip you exert on her collar. She drools and purrs, until an ultimate, mindless scream leaves her mouth. Her knees begin to buckle as she cums on your length, that pistoning length, in and out of her cunt, completely disregarding her sensitivity.

"Oh, looks like my kitten is wetting herself. Look, you're ruining the sheets! Such a dumb little pet."

Yena doesn't even hear the taunting. She holds onto some pillows, then the backboards, as you applaude her for the resilience by fucking faster and making the pelvis on ass sounds louder and louder.

"Me-me-meow~" Yena's irises disappear in her head. The idol has fully become your kitten; in due time to you surrendering to the tight grip of her cunt by cumming. A day's worth of semen, directly into her womb, and you tell yourself that she is safe today. She has to be, otherwise she wouldn't have agreed to your dick inside her.

"Ma-Master, so much," Yena breathes and her paws try to remove all the sticky hair from her sweaty face.

"You better not spill it on the sheets, kitty. Keep it inside your pussy, all of it." You pull out and immediately get up close with the pink snatch. Yena clenches her muscle, trying to force her pussy to stay shut.

"So, so much—I can't ho-old it!"

With that said, Yena loses some of your precious cream. She just lets it fall out of her in an incredibly lewd display that has you smiling at her embarrassed expression. In a scramble of genius and horniness, you find the bullet vibrator and shove it inside Yena’s cunt before she can ruin more of the bed. Her ensuing moan is music to your ears.

"I guess my kitten is not yet potty trained. We need to change that as soon as we can.

"Wouldn’t you agree?"

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #male reader smut #choi yena smut #yena smut

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meownotgood · 2 years

Text

arrival in tokyo / hayakawa aki

Aki has found you insufferable from the moment you were paired up together. It's bad enough that they're forcing him to work with a damn devil, but you happen to be the most disobedient, irritating devil he's ever met. You seem to have quite the attitude, and brats like you ought to be put in their place.

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 23.2k

tags: 18+, smut, exhibitionism (aki fucks you in an alleyway), light degradation, praise, pain play (aki puts his cigarette out on you), begging & teasing, face-fucking, thigh-fucking, spit kink, fingering, choking, 1 (one) spanking, pet names (good girl, baby, etc.), aki is a bit of an ass, he punches you in the face once

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

I want you two patrolling the south district all afternoon. I know you're not thrilled about this, but please, try to get along. I better not see you two fighting, understand?

Oh, and Hayakawa, take a back seat today. If anything happens, just let them handle it, alright? Don't worry, I know they are more than capable.

Those words seem to echo inside Aki's head, resounding with every heavy step he takes, with every loud clack of his shoes against the pavement.

Just let them handle it? Why? Is he not fit to do his own job? He isn't helpless or weak, far from it. The squad he leads is one of the strongest in the prefecture, dammit. There's no way a brand new recruit, someone so irresponsible, bothersome, mindless — There's no way someone like you is stronger or more capable than him. That's ridiculous.

You should be listening to his instruction, stepping back and allowing him to handle things, like a subordinate ought to do. Honestly, it's best you just quit right now, because if you're not going to do that, there will definitely be some serious problems.

Speak of the devil, your voice stirs Aki from his thoughts: "Sir? Can you slow down? You're walking really fast."

"No. Keep up or I'll leave you behind." Aki snaps back.

The city is rather bustling today. People walk about, cars on the street inch forwards in the afternoon traffic, and the whistles of trains can be heard in the distance. There's a light breeze that wafts through the air, tickling the hair on the back of your neck. The sun beams down, warm heat radiating off of the concrete sidewalk.

You've never been to Tokyo before — or any big city, for that matter — so the atmosphere is totally unfamiliar to you. Various storefronts are busy with shoppers. The walkway is crowded as tons of people commute from place to place. Skyscrapers stretch into the clouds, to the point where you have to crane your neck to look up at them. Wow, and you thought Public Safety's headquarters were huge.

With the way the man in front of you is rushing though, there's no time to enjoy the nice weather, nor take in any of the sights. You have to keep your eyes glued to his back if you want to stay at his heels and avoid getting lost in the crowd. You definitely didn't expect to spend your first devil hunting patrol sightseeing, but still, it would have been nice not to rush around everywhere.

Aki Hayakawa is who you've been assigned to work alongside today, and he seems… interesting. Besides the woman you talked to earlier, he's the only devil hunter you've met so far, and he doesn't exactly give the best first impression. Respectfully, he's impolite. And to put it bluntly, he's kind of a stuck-up ass.

When you first met him, he didn't even say hello to you, nor bother to introduce himself. He just looked down on you with an annoyed expression on his face that only seemed to worsen the longer you met his gaze. When he spoke, he acted as if you weren't even there, talking to the woman in front of you like he couldn't care less that you're standing right next to him. I'll work with them for now, but after today, I'm done. I'm tired of getting paired up with trouble-makers.

Trouble-maker? You? Oh, come on. You're not that much of a nuisance… Probably.

He's awfully up-tight, too. As you were both walking out of the Public Safety building, you were asking him questions: Hey, sir, what's it like working at Public Safety? Do you like it here? What devils do you have contracts with? There's a sword strapped to your back, is that what you use to fight? Hey, which do you prefer, ramen or udon?

And he gives you straight to the point answers: It's fine. Yes. That's classified. Yes… And can you stop asking me stupid questions like that?

Interesting, inscrutable, and cold: those are the best words you can think of to describe him. Cold like a sharp breath of winter. The type of cold that makes trying to get closer to him feel like trekking through the flurry of a heavy snowstorm. He's kept his eyes forward the whole time you've been walking, refusing to spare you any kind of glance. If you try to talk to him, all you receive in return are dry responses.

You know he's your senior, and from what you've heard, he's supposedly an avid devil hater. It's not difficult to assume why. With these dark and brooding types, it always tends to be the same story. Some kind of complicated revenge plot, or something like that.

The woman from before — Makima, was that what she said her name was? — told you that you were a special type of person, one who isn't human, nor devil. Hybrids, they're calling it. Supposedly, it's a rare sort of phenomenon. Hardly anyone has seen it before, and most people don't even believe it's true.

Before Makima found you, you spent your whole life living out in the country. There's not many devils there, so subsequently, not many devil hunters. Besides what you heard in rumors and passing stories from the city, you were oblivious to the topic. Makima had to explain everything to you, and even then, your powers were still a total mystery.

You still don't fully understand how to use them. Makima told you it'll take some practice, so stick with Hayakawa for now until you're able to get the hang of things.

You might find him difficult to get along with, She said, But he's one of the most talented devil hunters I have working with me. I think you two could learn from each other.

You didn't exactly want to become a devil hunter either, but Makima was the one who convinced you. Actually… she says the only way you'll be given any rights is if you're under her protection. Otherwise, it's fair game for you to be hunted as a devil. So you wouldn't exactly say you had a choice.

Well, it's pretty safe to assume that's why Hayakawa doesn't like you. If people are willing to hunt you as a devil, then you're sure they must see you as one, too. Out in the country, nobody seemed to bat an eye, but the city seems to be full of lots of die-hard devil haters. Unfortunately, you doubt you'll be able to change his mind on that; people from the city are always set in their ways.

Maybe he feels annoyed about being forced to work with a devil, especially one his boss implies is stronger than himself. You can bet he's still thinking about it, fussing over what Makima said, and if it's actually true. To be honest, even though you're sure he hates you, he doesn't seem like the type who's always a dick to everyone, just to those who happen to tick him off. There might even be a sweeter side to him in there… somewhere. Who knows.

Either way, he's definitely interesting, and although he can be annoying, he's fun to observe. You want to find out more about him, if you're able. Besides, if you're going to be working with him, for however long it might be, you figure it's a good idea to try to understand him. As best you can, anyways.

You've noticed that everything about him, from the way he looks to the way he talks screams professionalism.

You threw on your uniform haphazardly, but Hayakawa has his suit buttoned perfectly, tie tucked in neatly, collar of his dress shirt straightened exactly. His hair is tied up nice and tidy, showing off a pair of simple earrings. With every word he says, he sounds sure of himself. His voice has a certain deep, smooth vibrato that makes you feel commanded to listen to it. You haven't seen him fight, but you can imagine how precise he'd be with the sword that's strapped to his back.

He's handsome. He'd totally be your type, if he wasn't so pretentious. He's a smoker. You saw him smoking a cigarette outside the Public Safety building when Makima first led you in. The way he carries himself implies he's decently strong, probably more so than he appears. And he's also —

"Listen up," Your attention is pulled back to Aki when you suddenly hear him open his mouth, "If we see a devil, step back and watch me handle it the right way, got it? I don't need you making a mess for the cleaning crew when your powers end up going haywire…. Are you even listening right now?"

"Mmmmm… Nope," You reply, "You're gonna have to repeat all that."

Aki sighs in annoyance, "When I say something, I'm not saying it because I want to hear myself speak. Listen when I'm talking to you. Can you not even do that much?"

"Geez, I heard you the first time, calm down. I was just playing around."

"Then repeat what I said." Aki commands.

"Don't fight the devils, don't make a mess, blah blah cleaning crew."

There's a few seconds of silence. It's almost like you can hear his eye twitching in irritation, the bridge of his nose knotting up as his temper rises. Finally, he says, "Just… Stay out of my way."

He also happens to be pretty fun to mess with.

You chime from behind him, "Whatever you say, Lieutenant."

There's something about Aki that makes it both extremely easy to get on his nerves and very entertaining to do so. Your existence alone seems to be enough to get under his skin. When you make a joke or poke fun at him, he falls for it every time. If he really wanted to shut you down, he could easily ignore you, but he has this sort of complex about him that makes it impossible.

It's a constant struggle, where he feels like he has to have the upper hand, the authority over you. Where he feels like in every situation, he has to be correct, and you have to be the one proven wrong.

If you say go left, he'll say go right. If you say go slow, he'll say go faster. Someone like him, who's cold, diligent, and sensible should be totally incompatible with somebody like you, and in many ways, you are. But that just makes you want to get closer to him, to shatter the expectation and have him come to understand you just as much as you want to understand him.

Aki Hayakawa is clearly the type of man who strives to achieve his goals by any means necessary. He's determined, but doesn't seem egotistical, which makes him intriguing. You think he seems like the type of person who has his own sense of justice, his own tightly-knit morals. He follows the orders that are given to him and sticks to his principle. In short, he's the type of person who doesn't understand how to have any fun.

It'd be amusing to chip away at that, you figure. To get him to go against those values, to see him choose the immoral route instead. Being forced to work alongside those he swore to kill, to get revenge on, a devil, would probably be the first step.

So as much as he is difficult, and as much as he is a total hard-ass, he's also fun, you conclude. It's fun to wear down his serious exterior, to see him when he strays away from his usual poker-faced expression. It makes you wonder just how far you can push him, what else you can manage to get out of him. At what point would he finally break? When would that stern, rule-following demeanor finally snap, and what would happen when it did?

You've quickly found yourself trying to do anything to create sparks, to bring some sort of heat to that unshakeable cold. Aki makes it almost too easy, because whatever you say or do seems to immediately put him in a bad mood. That's why as you've been walking behind him, you haven't just been sightseeing. You've been formulating a plan.

You overheard Makima when she was giving him orders; Aki was given specific instructions not to kill you, not to fight you, and to let you handle any problems that occur. You're sure he's got to be dying to defy those, to put an annoying brat like you in your place.

You're going to figure out just what makes him tick. You'll find something that'll really piss him off, and then, once he snaps, you'll have won. Even if he thinks he's the one with the upper hand, if you can get him to defy the rules, to live a little, everything will have gone according to your plan. You thought being a devil hunter would be nothing but boring nonsense, but maybe now, things will start becoming entertaining.

He thinks you're some sort of trouble-maker? Then a trouble-maker is exactly what he's going to get.

"Hey, sir, I wanna know something," You ask him, speeding up a little so you're walking closer behind him, "Why do you hate devils so much?"

Aki's reply comes quickly and point-blank. "None of your business."

"Oh, come on. Just tell me."

"No," Aki says firmly, "Stop asking."

Your lips form into a subtle pout. "If we're gonna be working together, we should try to get to know each other, right? Why won't you just say it?"

"I have no intentions of getting to know you."

You pause for a moment, realizing you've hit a dead end. It seems like trying to get him to open up about anything is a no-go. You need something you can work with, something that's gonna give you a bit of leverage over him. If he doesn't want to play nice, that's fine. You have to change your approach, and there's one thing you think will work perfectly.

"Hm, well," You muse, "I want to get to know you. Tell me, would you say you're a strong devil hunter? Or a weak one?"

Aki scoffs, "What's it to you?"

"I just wanna make sure I'm working with someone who's on my level, not someone who's gonna hold me back."

There's a slight pause, before he replies, "The civilian sector is where weak devil hunters operate, not here."

He's avoiding the question. Are you touching a nerve, is he insecure? You might just have him with this.

"I don't think that's true, and you know why?"

Aki doesn't respond, waiting for your answer. You give him a moment to simmer, to try and figure out what you're going to say next. His arms are held uniformly behind his back, and you can see his hands start to tighten, his knuckles start to tense. You're glad he's not facing you, because if he was, he'd see the shit-eating grin plastered all over your face right now.

"I think Public Safety is filled with nothing but weak, useless devil hunters. I know 'cause… I'm looking right at one."

Aki abruptly stops in his tracks, and you nearly bump into his back when he does. He turns around on his heels, and for the first time since you left, you're looking right at him. His eyebrows are furrowed tightly, the bridge of his nose is crinkled up, and he's eyeing you up and down with this look of utter disgust and contempt.

Yeah, you've really done it now, but you can't shrink away just yet. You have to keep pushing, 'til you get him right where you want him.

"What the hell do you know about me?" Aki says, and the tone of his voice is much angrier than before, much harsher. You're aware that you're making a scene now, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, with people walking around you, giving the both of you dirty looks.

You can't pay any attention to them, you have to keep focused on Aki. Don't look away from him, don't show that you're at all affected, otherwise this won't work.

You reply, "You seem pretty weak to me, and what that lady said before confirms it, does it not?"

"I'm not weaker than you. You don't know the first thing about what makes a person strong or weak." Aki's eyes narrow as he examines you, his posture rigid.

"You sure about that?" You counter, straight-faced. "I heard what that lady said, she told you to let me handle things. So why did you tell me to let you handle it instead? You don't strike me as the type who'd disobey orders."

Aki steps in a little bit closer to you. With the way you have to look up at him to continue meeting his gaze, you're suddenly aware of how tall he is compared to you, his body casting a harsh shadow over your figure. He just about towers over you, in fact. It gives you the feeling that to him, you must be small and meager.

He utters his next words a little quieter than before, through gritted teeth, "Shut up. I'm your superior for a damn reason. If I tell you something, you listen and you don't question it."

"Oh, whatever," You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, "Superior doesn't mean anything if you're a weakling."

"You've got quite the attitude, don't you?" Aki leans over you, his voice sounding much closer to your ear, "I suggest you start watching your mouth, unless you want to have problems with me."

"Why don't you watch yours?" You keep your gaze locked on his, despite how difficult it is to meet his sharp stare. "You've done nothing but be rude to me since we've met, you know. I didn't do anything, I don't think it's justified."

"And you've done nothing but get on my last nerve."

You shrug, seemingly unaffected by his mood, but you feel the smallest tinge of regret, the slightest feeling of nervousness. For a second, you wonder if pissing him off this much is a good idea, but before you can contemplate it much further, you're already saying, "Not my fault you've got such a short fuse."

Aki brings his hand to your shoulder. He grips you hard, dragging you in. He's so close, mere inches away from your face; you can smell his fancy cologne, see the glimmers of spite that linger in his gaze.

When he speaks again, his voice is a low, strict murmur, "This is the last time I'm going to say this to you. I am your superior, and you're going to treat me as such. Start taking this job seriously and stop acting stupid before it gets you in trouble. Do you think I wanted to deal with your bullshit, to be forced to work with scum like you?"

The way he's scolding you, the deep and resentful tone of his voice: something about it makes heat rise to your cheeks, makes your heart pound impossibly faster. You feel embarrassed. There's a tight cord of anxiety forming in your chest — You feel like shrinking away from him, like you're suddenly the weak one in the situation. You were so confident earlier, but all it took was him reprimanding you like this for you to instantly regret what you just did.

You feel like telling him, I'm sorry, please, forgive me sir, because everything from him telling you off to the way he stands over you, expression unyielding, hand tightening on your shoulder — You feel overpowered, in every sense of the word. At his mercy. The pressure is building, but before you can look away, Aki tilts your chin up a little with his finger, coaxing you to keep meeting his gaze.

He leans forward just slightly more, and you notice now how he's speaking with his mouth mere inches away from yours. His lips look soft, they're parted a little, and although his tall frame in your vision is the only thing you can see, you know there's still people shuffling past. All these passerby, watching you get scolded like a child who's been naughty.

Aki continues, "The only thing I want you to do from now on is sit back, keep your damn mouth shut, and listen when I give you an order. It's not that hard to do, so quit acting like a brat and show me some respect, got it?"

You could do that, you really could step away right now. You could say you're sorry, and that would be that. But as much as the pressure is on right now, you still feel a lingering sense of satisfaction. He thinks he's the one in the driver's seat, but you can see it in his expression — His eye is twitching, his lips are pursed, his fingers are trembling ever-so slightly in frustration — He's going to snap. And you're the one who pushed him this far, who managed to get him this way.

Honestly, being pinned under his thumb like this, treated like you're lesser, getting him really, truly pissed — It gives you a sort of thrill. A certain kind of high feeling, like even though he's in control, he's the one scolding you, it still feels like you've won. You accomplished what you set out to do, did you not? You got under his skin enough to make professional, no-nonsense Aki stop working just to reprimand you and cause a huge scene.

This predicament of yours causes you to ponder the same thing you were dwelling on earlier, that same train of thought. How far would Aki go just to get the upper hand over you? What would he do to prove that he's right and you're wrong?

You know you shouldn't enjoy pushing his buttons like this. You're sure the logical option here would be to fall back in line. Go back to work, follow orders like you're supposed to. But where's the fun in that? You can push him further than this. He's nowhere near close to breaking yet, and you want to find out what happens when he does.

So, you say something you probably shouldn't — No, definitely should not say. Two little words that you know will piss him off more than anything.

"Or what?"

There's a pause. His hand is on you, his grip flexes, his body is so, so close. A brief stare-down, a deadlock that leaves you listening to the sound of your own heartbeat drumming hard in your chest, your mind spinning as you wonder what he's going to do, and what he's even capable of doing. And then —

"How about I show you, hm?" Aki stands up straight, peering down at you with an unreadable expression. He tilts his head, gesturing to the side, towards an alleyway that rests in between the tall buildings and crowded street corners. It's dark, and despite how much you squint your eyes, it's impossible to tell where it leads.

"C'mere."

Before you know it, before you even understand why, you're following him as he leads you deep into the alley. It's quiet, sort of dingy, cast in a dim, cool shadow. Far enough away from people that you can't hear them, but still close enough that you can see their shapes as they pass by the entryway.

You're walking into the alley deeper, further, and you're about to ask, "Hey, sir-" But before you can get out, What are we doing here? He cuts you off by turning around and grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, slamming your back against the brick wall.

Aki quickly has you caged in here, one hand tightly gripping your collar, the other placed firm on the wall beside your head. His knee slots into the empty space between your legs to trap you further, and he pulls you off the wall, dragging you forwards roughly by your collar until you're closer to his face. All you can do is sit there, limp, unable to move as he has you cornered. The impact of your back hitting the wall made your eyes shut involuntary, but you slowly open them now.

You can look at him a lot closer than before; you study his earrings, black and shiny, glinting in the low light. His jawline is sharp, his nose is pointy and defined. He smells like cigarette smoke and cedar, completely intoxicating. Pinned this close against him, with his eyes never leaving yours, you feel like you could drown in his gaze. He's looking at you in a certain way that makes you feel trapped, like he's looking at something inferior, something he owns.

Aki manages to somehow sound even more pissed when he speaks this time. "I don't know why you think it's acceptable to talk back to me, but you need to be taught something about respect, because clearly, you don't get what it means."

You retaliate, "I don't need to be taught shit from you."

"Apparently, you do. You fail to understand something as simple as respecting authority. If I was in your situation, I wouldn't be acting like this, I'd understand my place. But I guess you just don't get it." Aki's eyes narrow and his fist tightens on your collar. He keeps a resolute, level tone. "Miss Makima should have never taken you in, I think you're a lost cause."

It's difficult to speak with your collar choking you, Aki practically holding you up by it, but you still manage to spit out, "Huh? My situation? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You really don't get it, do you? I guess I have to spell it out," Aki scoffs, "You're a fucking devil, and devils are less than human. As long as you're a devil, you'll be my subordinate, that's just the way it is. You should appreciate that I'm kind enough to give you this much."

That word in particular, devil — The way he says it is laced with so much animosity, chewed up and spat out from his lips, like he hates even having to say the word. Like it's something about you, about this world, he absolutely, wholeheartedly despises.

Your hands reach for his, grabbing at his knuckles, at where he grips your shirt, but to no avail; he refuses to let up. His thigh slides further upwards until you're sat between it, and you can start to feel the slightest amount of friction between your legs.

You counter, "Well, aren't you nice. This is what you call kind? Treating me like shit, talking down to me like I'm some kind of animal?"

"The way I'm treating you is all you deserve. I could kill you right now, but I'm generous enough to let you live. If you knew what's good for you, if you were at all smart, you'd ditch the attitude and be on the ground, licking the dirt off my shoes."

"Nah," You shake your head, and despite your situation, even though it would seem like he has the advantage here, you still have a playful smirk growing on your face. This is it, you're winning. "That lady told you not to kill me, and dogs like you always do as they're told."

"Makima told me I can put you down if you try to run or disobey my orders. If you think your insignificant life means anything to her, you'd be dead wrong."

"Put me down, eh?" You cock an eyebrow, a dry laugh escaping your mouth, "Like you even have the balls to do that."

Aki taunts, "Yeah? You think so?"

"I know so."

After you say those words, everything happens in a matter of seconds.

You notice his grip on your collar flex before he twists, still holding onto you. He roughly flings you away from the wall, with enough force that you stumble and fall on your ass. You manage to push yourself up, Aki standing over you and watching, allowing you to shakily stand to your feet. You don't have time to prepare to fight, though, because the second you've got your bearings, the last thing you see is him cracking his knuckles before his fist connects with your face.

Fuck, he hit you hard. So hard you fall back again, all the way until you're on the ground. You can feel blood welling at your split lip, and you taste it on your tongue, where you accidentally bit down. The concrete pavement is icy cold against your skin; it feels good, almost, helping to soothe the stinging in your cheek.

You really didn't expect him to hit you like that… Although, in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. Slowly, your senses start to return, the pain beginning to fade, but your daze is completely shattered when you feel Aki's foot come down on your face.

He steps on your head with what feels like his full weight, grinding your cheek under his foot like you're a doormat, shoving your face further into the floor. It's filthy: the way you're pinned between the bottom of his shoe and the dirty ground of the alleyway. There's the sound of steel scraping metal, his sword being drawn from the sheath, the low hum of his voice — Don't move. — and then, you feel the sharp edge of his blade on your neck. So close, one misstep or tiny movement from slicing into your skin.

Although your state doesn't make it easy, you're still able to see him in the corner of your vision; his expression deadpan, as if he's looking down at something far lesser, an insect.

"You didn't put up much of a fight, did you?" Aki taunts, his eyes examining you, "Only one hit to take you out? If you weren't a devil yourself, I'd say there wasn't a good likelihood of you surviving past your first mission."

You ignore him. "Get your foot off my fucking face."

Aki leans his head down a little. He's silent, and in the corner of your eye, you can see the way his jaw flexes, the way he gathers saliva in his mouth. Then, before you have a chance to react, a glob of his spit lands on the front of your shirt.

"Filth stays on the ground, where it belongs."

You wiggle a little under him, trying to see if there's a way to get up, but Aki responds by pressing the blade of his sword firmer to your neck. Now, if you move even a centimeter, it's sure to cut you. Aki addresses it: "Didn't I tell you not to move? You're going to end up hurting yourself."

Hurting yourself. Like he isn't the one holding the sword that's pressed to your throat right now. Like you're the one who caused this to happen, not him.

You sigh defeatedly, "This is pointless. We both know you're not gonna kill me, so just let up already."

"Of course I'm not. It isn't worth my damn time. Wouldn't be worth it to have to clean up the mess afterwards, either."

With his foot still pressed to your head and his sword on your neck, Aki uses his free hand to rustle through the pocket of his suit jacket. He pulls a thin cigarette from the pack, sticking it between his teeth. He finds his lighter next, and you can hear him strike the wheel with his thumb. One, two, three times, before there's a flame to bring the cigarette to life.

You're still slightly dazed, but the adrenaline is starting to overpower the hazy feeling. Your cheek is sore from where he keeps stepping on it. There's a slight, dull sting coming from your lip, and you can feel the blood starting to dry.

Now this, this is the most pathetic you've felt in a long, long time. Your lip split from where he hit you, his foot shoving your face into the ground, his sword on your neck, all while he nonchalantly lights his cigarette.

This is what it's like to lose against him, to genuinely find yourself beneath him, obedient. However, the most pitiful position you've been in since you met him also happens to be the most exciting.

That thrill from before: you can feel it now, even stronger. In reality, it never truly went away. You're annoyed, but your heart pounds in your ribcage, you feel fire under your skin. Your head feels fuzzy and light, like you're floating in fluffy white clouds, fogging up and obscuring your vision, making it harder to think clearly or rationally.

You should be done, you really should be done with this. The attitude, the quarreling. A sword to your neck should be the final straw. But should means nothing to you. Since when have you done what's correct, what you should be doing?

You said it yourself. Aki isn't going to kill you. The heart-racing thrill: you want it more, you can take more from him. This is the most entertained you've felt all damn day. The exhilaration is so fun to chase, and Aki is so, so easily toyed with.

There's a little smile tugging at your lips when you speak again, and you hope Aki can't hear it in your voice. "That lady told you not to fight me, did she not? I wonder what she's gonna say when she finds out you went directly against your orders."

Aki speaks in between the cigarette in his teeth, grinding his heel a little harder into your cheek, making you wince. "Do you want me to give you another thrashing, or are you gonna shut up now?"

"Tch. You're an asshole."

"Yeah, sure." Aki shoves his lighter back in his pocket, taking a long, drawn-out drag from his cigarette. The smoke spills from his lips as he tilts his head back and slowly exhales. Finally, he says, "What's your point?"

Your point? Your point is he's infuriating, impossible to get along with, and the most insufferable person you've ever had the misfortune of working with. Your point is that Aki is utterly difficult, and yet, he's the most captivating person you've ever encountered.

No-one has put you in your place quite like this before. Nobody has ever made you feel this overpowered, this pathetic. There's something exciting about Aki being the first.

There's elation, a thrill, in the feeling of being conquered by him, of having the power shifted away. And there's euphoria in the feeling of getting closer to him, when his hands were on you, when his mouth was just inches away from yours. There's a certain dizziness to the way he smells, to the way he effortlessly towers over you, to how physically strong you know he is, even though he holds himself back. The low, sultry lull of his voice goes right between your legs every single time he talks.

Perhaps you want to break him just as much as you want to be broken. The idea of getting closer to him, closer than ever before, beating all the odds stacked against you, is absolutely alluring.

Aki is a sworn devil hater, a model for professionalism, dignified and principled in every way. How amazing would it be to see him defy that, to make him want you, even though it contradicts all of his supposed values? He's been putting on this front, acting like he stand you, but the way he touches you even though he doesn't have to, the look of clear want in the back of his eyes that he's been trying to hide — Those things say differently.

So maybe there's something else, something more you can gain from this struggle. Maybe, just maybe, there's another way to go about this. There's a different approach you can take, one much, much more satisfying. It's high risk, high reward. You're really not sure if Aki — straight-laced, goody two-shoes Aki — would ever do something so indecent. Aki, who hates devils, who always follows the rules, and who has no idea how to enjoy himself. A part of you is sure this won't work, but if it does, if this pays off…

"You wanna know what my point is? Do you?" You taunt, finally breaking the silence between the two of you.

Aki fiddles with the hilt of his sword, causing the blade to tap gently against your skin. He replies simply, without any elaboration: "No."

"My point is I think you're compensating for something."

Aki snorts, "Really? You were silent for so long, and that's the best insult you can come up with? You can do better."

"I'm not saying it 'cause it's an insult, I'm saying it 'cause it's fucking true," You argue, speaking through gritted teeth. You're looking right up at him now, your gaze shooting daggers. Aki stares back with nonchalance, but also with a hint of curiosity, taking another lazy hit from his cigarette.

You continue, "Guys like you only act this way because they're compensating for whatever they don't have. Did it make you feel good to take your frustrations out on me? Why don't you toss me around a little more, it might make you feel even better."

"I wouldn't have needed to do this if you just followed my orders in the first place."

"Nope, this isn't about that for you," You wiggle a little bit under his weight, "This is about you wanting to take your anger out on a poor, defenseless devil."

"This is about me teaching you a lesson on discipline. Seems I was unsuccessful. You haven't learned a thing."

The blade of his sword, cool and sharp, presses further against your skin, shutting you right up. Your breath catches in your throat and you stare back at him, wide-eyed.

Aki holds his cigarette idly between his fingers, smoke rising up from the end. "You run your mouth way too much for your own good. For a 'poor, defenseless devil' you were acting real cocky earlier. What happened to that? You're the one who called me weak and useless. Now look at you."

Then, Aki leans over, resting his weight on his bent knee, on the foot still pressing your face into the ground. In a tone much quieter than before, he says, "So, are you going to be quiet, or should I shut you up myself?"

You eye him up and down. It's hard to breathe, hard to speak or even think, but you're just barely able to keep your guard up. You ask, "Are you going to answer any of my questions?"

"I don't think they warrant answers."

"Tell me, are you compensating for something? Or not?"

Aki scoffs, "Are we really still on this subject?"

"The fact that you won't tell me just means I'm right. You're probably a virgin, getting all pissy with me 'cause you're mad no girls will give you any attention."

You can see the way Aki's jaw flexes, partially gritting his teeth as he sternly commands, "Watch your damn mouth."

But you don't: "Is it fun to be Public Safety's measly little dog? I'm sure they keep you on a tight leash, never allowing you to have any fun. I bet you spend all your time running around, doing errands for that bitch, hoping someday she's gonna give you a chance. I'm sure that-"

You cut yourself off with a sharp intake of breath when you feel Aki press his blade into your neck. The pressure is only slight, but it's just enough to prick your skin. A thin rivulet of blood trickles down your neck, pooling onto the sidewalk under you, spilling from the small cut his sword created. Thump thump thump — Your heart beats faster, so hard you can hear it loud in your ears and feel it pounding in your chest.

Sword to your throat, his foot stepping on your head, your own blood spilled; your body is frozen, but your head feels high. And when you peer up at him through blurry vision slowly beginning to focus, Aki looks like he's about to fucking lose it.

Where his hand clasps the hilt of his sword, his grip tightens, his knuckles clenching. His lips curl into a scowl, his eyebrows furrow into a knot. He glares down at you with frustration, with a look like he wants you dead. This time, all he can manage is a choked, restrained, "Shut up."

Your breathing comes out much harsher than before, and your eyes nervously flicker across his form. There's pressure building in the air, in between the two of you, so tense it feels like it's weighing down on you. With a voice that comes out weaker than you intend, you mutter, "Am I right?"

"You're disgusting," Aki flicks his dying cigarette, scattering ash down, where it lands all over your clothes. "That's what you are."

"And you have a small dick."

In a single moment, with those few words, the cord of tension snaps — Aki swings his sword away from your neck and brings his foot off of your head. He takes a few steps back from you, then commands, "Get up, and don't make me tell you twice."

You're a bit weak when you move, your limbs numb from laying on the hard concrete for so long. Hesitantly, you sit up, brushing the ash from the front of your shirt with your palm, the fabric still a bit wet from where he spit on it.

Aki drops his cigarette butt on the ground, stamping it out with his shoe. You catch him sliding his sword back in the sheath strapped around his shoulder, muttering something to himself so quietly you hardly hear it. Something like, Can't believe I got your filthy blood all over it. Then, he grabs your elbow to yank you up the rest of the way, to your feet.

Aki holds onto you tightly, guiding you up against the wall, putting you in the same position he had you in earlier: his height dwarfing yours, his knee caging you in. One of his hands presses flat to the brick, beside your head, while the other moves to grab your chin, forcefully tilting your head up so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes.

There is it again — That sort of possessive look present in his gaze, framed by his messy bangs and heavy eyelids. He's close, so close, even more than last time, it seems like. If he were any closer, you're sure he'd be able to hear how much your heart is pounding right now.

Aki exhales a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back to relieve some of the tension there, before he finally speaks.

"Why don't you say what you said again? To my face this time."

The frustration and anger you felt from him earlier have all but disappeared from his voice, replaced by the smooth, scolding tone you've become plenty familiar with by now. You can hear his breathing, soft and controlled. You can see the subtle rise and fall of his chest. There's that intense pressure again, combined with heat, with the closeness between the two of you. With the warmth radiating off your body and his, made stronger by the animosity.

Once again, the balance has shifted, but not in the way either of you expect, not in the way it would seem. In reality, by bringing the two of you closer, Aki just did you a huge favor.

You answer, "I said you're Public Safety's mutt, and not a very good one, at that."

"And? What else?"

"And that you have a small dick."

Aki taunts, voice deadpan, "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Oh?" You huff a dry laugh, "Is that an offer to show me?"

"Tch," Aki scoffs, his eyes narrowing in contempt, "Don't be ridiculous. Do you think I don't understand what you're getting at? Do you think I'm stupid?"

He's caught onto you, hasn't he?

A grin tugs at the corners of your cheeks. "Of course not, sir. I think you're quite smart, actually. I just think you could stand to live a little, and if you understand what I'm getting at, then you should know what I mean."

Aki keeps his hold on your chin, gripping a little tighter. The pad of his thumb brushes ever-so slightly over your bottom lip, where the blood has nearly dried. You're hot all over, and his hand is cold; his touch causes you to shiver.

Aki continues, his voice low and quiet, "How do you imagine all of this playing out, hm? Acting like a brat isn't going to get you what you want. You seem to believe you're doing something here, but look where your antics have gotten you."

His eyes flicker down, to the shallow wound on your neck. A dried stream of blood still lingers on your skin, and a tiny pebble of fresh blood wells from the cut, threatening to drip down. Then, his gaze flicks back to your face, resting on your lips. "All you did was end up getting yourself hurt."

"Hm…" You muse, tone exaggerated as you feign thinking. His thumb continues to toy with your bottom lip as you talk. "No, I don't think it's what I want. It's what you want, actually."

"You're projecting."

You can't help but chuckle at that. There's a slight, teasing lilt in your voice when you speak again, the words dripping like honey, sweet and saccharine, "Isn't it hard, sir? It has to be so difficult, always following someone else's orders, never having the opportunity to take what you want. Why don't you be selfish for a change? Don't you want to have some fun?"

Aki feels your lips quiver under his thumb. Your pupils are blown, gaze pooling with something he knows, but can't even begin to fathom. And when he moves his hand, faintly cupping your cheek, he feels the warmth radiating from your skin, the fire quickly spreading from you to him, filling his own body with a steady burn.

His touch, delicate and light, is a perfect juxtaposition to his next words: harsh and strict. He replies, "What's difficult is having to deal with you. I'm sick of it."

You feel his fingertips as they start to trail your jawline, tracing the shape, all the way until his hand is able to firmly hold the back of your neck. Your breath hitches, your eyes widen. Aki can see it in your face, in your reaction — The way his intimate touch intoxicates you, instantly sending blood rushing to your head.

"I… I think…" You manage, gnawing on your bottom lip in an attempt to maintain your composure, "I think you wanna have fun, you just don't want to admit it. You don't have to hold back with me, you know. I'm sure you wanna enjoy yourself."

"No, I don't. What gives you the impression that I do?" Aki replies, but he offers a tender squeeze to the back of your neck, and when he exhales, his breath comes out the slightest bit shaky. His eyes narrow, and it's like you can see the way his gears are turning, thought process reflected in his gaze. As if he's wondering, debating back and forth with himself… Does he? Does he want to enjoy himself?

You've been keeping your arms at your sides since he first pinned you here, but with his eyes never wavering from your face, Aki can see your hand start to move in the corners of his vision. You wedge an arm between yourself and him, hesitantly pressing your palm to his chest, over the folds of his suit jacket. The fabric is soft to the touch, smooth. Clearly well-kept, dry cleaned and ironed to make it so.

You can feel the way his heart drums under your palm to a quick, eager rhythm, how his chest swells with every deep breath. The bridge of his nose scrunches ever-so slightly — the only sign that he noticed — but Aki doesn't move, nor does he make any attempt to stop you. He's frozen in place, tentatively waiting for you to take the next action. Entertaining you, to the slightest degree.

And you do just that: with a faint smile on your face, you slowly drag your palm down. Over his chest, fingertips ghosting across the crisp folds in his jacket, over the neatly done buttons. Then, down further, to cup the shape of his hip, to rub circles on his thigh, your hand just barely squeezing.

"You say that you don't, but," Your voice is quiet, your fingers rub teasingly close to his inner thigh, and Aki bunches the hand that rests on the brick wall into a tight fist. "You're here, aren't you? You could get off of me any minute now and leave me here in this alley, but you haven't. You wanna tell me why that is, hm, Hayakawa? You wanna tell me what you're doing right now, why you have me pinned here?"

No, you know why, and you want it just as badly as he does. You want to find out what he looks like with his crisp suit out of place, his tie loose, his shirt unbuttoned. You want to hear his voice when he can no longer maintain his level tone, what it sounds like when he breaks.

You take a deep, trembling breath in. Aki exhales a slow, steady, controlled breath out. Here in this moment, it feels as though time only exists between the two of you. It passes in fractions, in every flicker of Aki's eyes over you, and in every faint beat of your heart.

You can hear a plane as it flies overhead, a distant car horn honk — A subtle reminder that you're still in public, that what you're about to do is incredibly risky, but honestly, you can't bring yourself to care. The risk will make this all the more exciting.

You speak to fill the growing silence, voice barely more than a whisper, staring up at Aki through your eyelashes. "You're so quiet. I bet you're thinking about it."

Aki swallows, his voice lowered to match your volume when he replies, "Thinking about what?"

You smile. "About bending me over and taking me in this alleyway, right here, right now."

Aki sucks in a harsh, sharp breath. You lean in further, and his head dips in a little lower — Perhaps by accident, perhaps by choice. You stand up straighter to bring yourself closer to him, practically on your tiptoes; Aki can feel your warm breath fan out over the shell of his ear when you speak.

"Well?" You ask. The heat from your breath and your soft voice in his ear causes Aki's whole body to shiver. "You're the one who said you didn't want to deal with bullshit or messing around. How about we get to the point, and you go on and tell me what you want to do to me."

"I… I don't…"

Aki trails off; the words are stuck in his throat, unable to form, and he cuts his sentence short with a loud gasp when your lips suddenly press to his ear. Your hand grabs the diamond of his tie, yanking him in even closer. You trail kisses down his cheek, his jaw, so light they can hardly be felt, so teasing they send sparks of electricity through his veins.

You whisper against his skin, "Tell me how badly you wanna fuck me right now."

"I think… I think that's just what you want." Aki tries to keep his voice unshaken, but you can tell how it's beginning to waver, his resolve faltering. There's a warm flush blooming on his cheeks, and he leans his head further into your shoulder, hoping you won't be able to see it. "You're awfully desperate. As if you even have the privilege to be."

"No, you definitely want this, just as much as me. You're the desperate one here, I'm sure."

Aki grits his teeth and chokes out, "I don't fuck devils."

You grip his tie tighter, pulling him in until you're able to press your lips to his neck; Aki's body curls over you, obedient. His heart is pounding — You can feel it, the way his pulse thrums steadily beneath your lips. Your teeth connect, nipping faint love bites, mouth hot on his skin, and he's practically melting at the sensation, his weight starting to slide down the wall. I don't fuck devils, he claims, but when your hand trails from his thigh to between his legs, you can feel where the stiff outline of his cock strains his slacks.

"Ah, s-shit," Aki stammers, "You…"

Whatever he was hoping to say dies out when you squeeze him. Aki sighs deeply, his thigh sliding down from the wall, his hips subtly shifting back to give you better access.

You palm his dick; he's so warm here, throbbing and aching under your touch, so much that you can feel his cock pulse even through the fabric. When you squeeze again, harder this time, Aki can feel precum dribble out, getting his dick messy, his boxers filthy.

You press a long, lingering kiss to his collar. Then, you pull away to admire your work; red smears cover his skin, up and down his neck, and the crisp, white collar of his dress shirt is marked with a vivid lipstick stain.

"Wow, you're so hard," You tease, trying your best to hold back a snicker, "Is this just from me kissing you? I knew you wanted me, but I had no idea you wanted me this badly."

The only thing Aki can manage to mutter into your ear is a quiet, forceless, "Stop."

You retort, "Why should I?"

Aki swallows hard to clear some of the dryness in his throat, then murmurs, "We can't do this, not here."

Yeah, he says that, but his words carry no bite, and his actions betray them; even while he speaks, even while he says we can't, he's rutting his hips into your touch, desperately seeking out more friction. A hushed whine leaves his lips when he grinds himself hard against your palm.

"Oh?" You smirk, "So that's what you want, you want me to stop, huh?"

Abruptly, you take your hand away from him. Aki's breath hitches from the lack of contact. His cock aches even more, suddenly feeling terribly confined in his slacks. So desperate to come free, to feel something.

Aki stutters, "No, I'm-"

You cut him off, "You're so needy, poor thing. All you have to do is admit you want me to touch you and I will. You think you can do that, sir?"

"Fucking," Aki growls, his hand squeezing the back of your neck, "What I want right now is to shut you the hell up."

"Hah, is that so?" You laugh, "And how are you gonna do that? Are you gonna shut my mouth with-" Your hand returns to grab him, palm stroking the shape of his cock through his pants, and Aki can't hold back a groan. "-this?"

The moment you said that, the second your hand began palming him again, it's almost like you flipped a switch. The last of his resolve was finally chipped away, his need for you reached a boiling point, and now, there's no turning back. You can sense it in the way his breath starts to quicken, in how his hand grabs your side with a tight grip, wrinkling up your dress shirt. You know he isn't holding himself back anymore when his lips hover over your neck, his breath warm, and he finally says what you've been waiting to hear.

"Yeah, you'd fucking like that, wouldn't you?" Aki's voice is low and sultry, laced with a hint of annoyance; his tone makes you feel weak, your heart flipping, the breath punched from your lungs. "Bet you're dying to have my cock down your throat. As if you even deserve it, considering the way you've acted."

A soft whimper escapes your mouth before you have the opportunity to stop it, and you swear you can hear Aki huff the faintest chuckle. He runs his hand down your lower back, all the way 'til he finds the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he gives it a firm squeeze.

Your eyelids flutter, and his tongue swipes over your neck — You're like putty in his hands then, instantly yielding. His tongue, warm and wet, licks up the stream of dried blood from your skin, the taste metallic in his mouth. You hastily rub his dick with your palm, and his lips latch to your wound; he sucks fresh blood from it, his teeth nibbling faint impressions, your taste fogging up his head. Somehow, you swear you feel him get even harder.

Aki mutters into your neck, "You're awfully quiet now."

It's difficult to formulate a sentence with his mouth all over you, but you manage to hesitantly ask, "And… And if I say that I do? If I say I would like that?"

Aki presses his lips to cut, placing a kiss so unexpectedly soft and tender it makes your head spin, your thoughts teetering. His fingers thread up through the base of your scalp, sending tingles down your spine. He answers, "I'm not sure you've earned it, honestly. You'd be lucky if I gave you my fingers — No, you don't even deserve that much. The most you deserve is my shoe to grind down on."

You're not even thinking before you babble, "I deserve it, I do. I… I really want you, please."

"Oh, you're so greedy," Aki hums, muttering breathlessly between his lips peppering teasing kisses on your neck, "I know you'd be happy with anything I give you, but you still want more."

You nod, squeezing the stiff tent in his slacks, and Aki sighs into your skin, quickly pulling back so he can look at you. He grabs your chin with his fingers, tilting your face towards him; his gaze meets yours, and his eyes are pooled with lust, pupils blown out wide, swallowing the blue of his iris.

In a low tone, voice smooth, Aki says, "I like it when you beg for me, it's fitting for a pathetic little brat like you. Why don't you beg a bit more, then maybe I'll consider giving you what you want."

This may be the first time you've listened to his orders, but the second you've realized that, pleas are already falling from your mouth and you can't do anything to stop them.

"Aki, please." You whine, and it's the first time you've said his name like this, too. The way you say it so desperately, like you really do need him — Aki feels his heart skip a beat in his chest, and his dick pulses under your hand. You plead, "I really want it, don't be mean to me."

"No," Aki scolds, his eyes narrowing, and he leans in a little further, speaking softly, his lips mere centimeters away from yours, "If you want it that bad, then ask me properly. Tell me what you want, and speak with some respect, otherwise you're not getting it."

You hesitate for a moment, listening to the heavy breaths — yours, and his — as they echo around the alley. Only for a moment, though, because you know exactly what he wants to hear, and that happens to be the only motivation you need.

Finally, you stammer, "I want your cock, Hayakawa, sir," You gulp, Aki's breath hitches, and then, you continue, "I want it in my mouth, want you down my throat."

"Fuck, you think you can take it?" Aki mutters breathlessly, and when you nod your head, he takes one step back from you. He briefly eyes you up and down, and his hand tremors slightly as he brings it to your shoulder.

"Then get on your knees."

You don't need to be told twice.

With his hand on your shoulder, Aki guides you to switch places with him, so that his back is to the wall and you're positioned in front of him, at his feet. He hurriedly pulls his sword strap off his body to make himself more comfortable, tossing it to the ground with a clatter. Then, he holds the back of your head, gently coaxing you to your knees.

His heart thrums hard in his chest, a wave of anxiety rising in his nerves. If he's being honest with himself, Aki still isn't sure if he should be doing this. No, he definitely shouldn't. He should get back to work, stop acting stupid, quit messing around, but he just can't.

Honestly, when did he get this way? Was it when you first laid your hands on him, or was it when he figured out that you wanted him, when you gazed at him with that hazy look in your eyes like you're just begging for him to take you? He isn't sure, he doesn't know when or why or how he became unable to resist you, but right now, he really doesn't care.

He wants this way too damn bad. He needs you so much that all he can do is sit back and let this happen, even if his brain is telling him he shouldn't be.

And when he sees the way you obediently sink down to your knees in front of him, hands promptly fiddling with his belt to get it undone: it makes his head feel hazy, clouded with a certain sense of adoration, and all of his hesitations are quickly tossed away.

You stare up at him expectantly for a second, and Aki chides, "What are you waiting for? You're not chickening out, are you? You're the one who said you wanted this right here, right now."

You're not, definitely not. You hesitated for a moment only because you suddenly realized the gravity of your situation, and you can hardly believe it's even happening.

This is it, you did it, you won. You've got rule-following, devil-hating Aki Hayakawa pushing your head towards him, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief when your hand cups his bulge through the fabric of his slacks, his dick throbbing and stiffening beneath your touch. When you look up at him, you can see he's practically panting, his lips parted as he reaches up and grasps his tie to work it loose. His eyes never leave your figure as he watches you, anticipating your next move with bated breath.

This is really happening, you're going to do this right here, down a dingy alleyway in broad daylight and… Honestly, you want him so badly you can't even begin to question things.

So, you shake your head and reply, "I'm not. I'd never. And I won't change my mind."

"Good. That's what I like to hear."

The metal buckle of his belt clangs as you unfasten it. In this moment, everything starts to seem louder in your ears, more surreal. You can hear the sound of his breathing, shaky exhales quickened with nervousness and excitement. The smell of him fills your lungs: his rich cologne and cigarette smoke.

With his belt undone, hanging in the loops, you pop the button on his slacks next. Your fingers clasp around his zipper, pulling it down slowly, and as you do, Aki shoves his hand in his jacket pocket. He finds a cigarette, placing it between his lips, then his lighter, and he uses his palm to shield it from the breeze. You're edging his pants down his hips when you hear him strike the wheel, flame bringing his cigarette to life.

The outline of his cock is even more noticeable through his boxers, thick and heavy where it sits on his thigh. There's a bit of wetness seeping through the fabric, from where his precum has dribbled out and dirtied it. Aki shoves his lighter back in his pocket, holding his cigarette between two fingers; he brings it to his lips, inhales from it deeply, lazily, and when your palm cups his dick, he groans, puffs of smoke falling from his mouth.

He's so fucking hard, so needy — You can't help but tease, "See, I knew you wanted to have some fun with me, Mister 'I don't fuck devils.'"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Aki snaps, flicking the ash from his cigarette, his eyebrows furrowing up, "God, always such a pain in my ass — Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use, show me it's good for more than just giving me lip."

"Oh? You think it's pretty?"

Aki seems to falter for a moment. "It's-"

He interrupts himself with a shuddery gasp when you press your tongue to his clothed cock, breathing hot air that he can feel even through the fabric. You swirl your tongue around him, getting the fabric of his boxers even wetter. His whole body shivers, and he leans back further against the wall to support himself.

You place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his stiff bulge; Aki whines softly, and through his heavy breaths, he's just barely able to choke out, "I can't… Don't tease me."

As much as you want to oppose those words, you can't deny that you want this just as badly as he does, and you're getting a bit impatient yourself. So, you simply flash a playful smile in response before hooking your fingers around the waistband of his briefs, gently tugging them down, pressing one last delicate kiss to his clothed cockhead as you do so. You yank his boxers past where his hip bones jut out, then to his thighs, just enough to take his cock out.

It's thick, pale, with a slight curve to it — So damn pretty that you nearly start drooling at the sight. Aki holds his cigarette deft between two of his fingers, reaching down to grab your face with his free hand, just as you wrap your hand around the base of his dick, stroking him to a lazy rhythm.

He mouths something so quietly you almost miss it: Hold still. Then, he shifts his hips until he can lay the length of his cock over your cheek. For a moment, he holds you there, admiring the way it dwarfs your face, a little half-hearted chuckle escaping his lips.

He brings his thumb to the tip of his cock while your loose palm continues to pump him. A faint, wet sound echoes in your ears as he rubs circles over the slit, gathering the sticky precum that leaks from there. He presses his thumb to your mouth, and when your lips part, he shoves it in, smearing his precum over your tongue.

"There we go," Aki praises, exhaling a long, unsteady breath. Your lips close around his finger and you give it a gentle suck. Aki groans, "Yeah, want you to suck on me just like that," He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks. "Got it?"

You nod, "Mhmmm. Yes, sir."

Sir. His cock throbs just at that. You've been so damn difficult, always arguing with him, always trying to get on his nerves, but now that he's finally figured out what you wanted from him, you're unusually well-behaved. He could get used to seeing you like this, he thinks. Your obedience just makes him want to ruin you.

Aki presses the tip of his cock to your lips, and you feel it throb hard when you kiss it. He pulls on your chin, coaxing you to open your mouth. Smoke wisps up from the end of his unattended cigarette. Punctuated by his harsh breathing, he slurs a string of instructions: Open wide. Stick out your tongue. C'mon, you're gonna have to open wider than that.

Once you take him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head down on him, your throat adjusting to his size, Aki gulps and praises, Atta girl. Keep taking it just like that. Watch those teeth for me.

God, if being scolded by him makes you feel high, then being praised by him takes you even higher. Your head feels fluffy, and you whimper weakly around his cock. Aki presses down on the back of your head with one hand, bringing his cigarette to his mouth with the other.

He takes a deep inhale before he's mumbling around the smoke, "Oh, that's it, baby." The pet name slips from his lips before he even realizes. His words make you even dizzier, and he tosses his head back, Adam's apple prominent in his throat, "Fuck, don't stop until it's all the way in, yeah?"

Aki groans when your tongue swirls around his length, pushing your head down more, encouraging you to take all of him. It's so much, he's too much, his cock filling every part of your mouth and your throat, to the point where it's difficult to breathe, let alone keep your composure. The only thing you can think about, the only thing filling all of your senses is him, and all you can do is stare up at him, doe-eyed, as he shifts his hips forwards and crams his cock all the way down your throat.

The tip of your nose nudges at his pelvis. Aki holds you in place, his palm rubbing the back of your head, fingers toying with your hair. He can see the way you're struggling to take him, muffled gags sending weak vibrations down his length, but he doesn't let up — He makes you watch as he takes a long, drawn-out drag from his cigarette, smoke falling from his lips as he exhales slow and steady.

With your warm and wet mouth around him, swallowing him up, the nicotine seems to hit his system harder than before — Aki feels his whole body relax, his eyelashes heavy and fluttering, his shoulders slumping.

"You're finally quiet now… I knew you could be good for me." He mumbles breathlessly, and he holds his cigarette between his teeth so he can reach down, wiping the tears welling at the corners of your eyes with his thumb. He feels the heat radiating off of your cheeks, and he carefully brushes messy strands of hair from your face so he can get a better look at you, tucking them carefully behind your ears.

The cock-drunk expression already present on your face, the pleading look in your eyes, the way your mouth feels around him — Aki's breath starts to come out sharp and fast, his heart pounding in his chest, and he knows, he knows he can't restrain himself anymore, even if he wanted to. Not when it's this good, not when you look so needy for him, not when he's this desperate for you.

It doesn't matter if he shouldn't be doing this, he doesn't fucking care if someone turns and walks right down this alleyway. He's going to be selfish, he's going to take what he wants from you. This is what you wanted him to do, isn't it?

Finally, he drags your head back, giving you a second to breathe and your jaw some relief, but the moment is short lived when his hips abruptly rut forward, shoving his cock back in. Aki takes control then, gripping your hair tightly as he starts up a rhythm, fucking himself into your mouth.

The alley quickly becomes filled with the wet sounds of you slurping and choking on his dick. He reaches so deep into your throat, and as his pace gets rougher, more and more greedy, your throat starts to ache, and your mind is a muddled blur, thoughts consumed by the feeling of his dick in every corner of your throat.

His cigarette is nearly spent, and Aki takes one last drag, sighing as the smoke leaves his lungs. He taps the cigarette with his finger, flicking the ash to the ground below, before he asks, "Where do you want this?"

You're confused, at first, but Aki shows you what he's getting at when he hovers his cigarette over the nape of your neck, where exposed skin peeks out from the collar of your shirt. His expression is unreadable, but when you look up at him through your eyelashes, you notice how his pupils are blown out wide, how his face is dusted a warm shade of pink.

"Shit… Should I put it out right here?"

You mumble around him, the vibrations on his cock causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth, and Aki seems to take it as a yes.

He presses the end of the cigarette down, putting it out right on your skin, just above your collarbone. He grinds it in deep, using your neck as his ashtray, and it burns. You whine as an enveloping heat blooms over your skin, across your neck and your shoulders. There's a bit of pain, cold and warm at the same time; it mixes with pleasure, with the ache between your legs, and then, it goes numb. Aki flicks the cigarette away once it's completely out, a slight, satisfied smile forming on his face.

"You're so amazing, God," He praises, exhaling a shaky sigh, "Such a good girl."

The sounds coming from the both of you grow louder and louder, more and more obscene. You're choking on him, and he's panting, his chest heaving with every breath, low whines of pleasure falling from his lips between every gasp. What if someone hears you? Someone could turn down this alley, they'd hear your gags and whimpers, and they'd see you on your knees, your superior's dick in your mouth, Hayakawa's dick — While the two of you are supposed to be working, no less.

What would his co-workers, what would his boss say, if they went looking for him and saw this? Utterly square, professional Aki, getting off instead of doing his job. In a dingy alleyway, his cock down the throat of a fucking devil. He's always so calm and composed, poker-faced, but here, his face is flushed red, his lips are parted, quivering slightly, and his expression is contorted in pleasure as he falls apart at the seams. If anyone saw, he'd never live it down, surely.

Your eyes flicker over to the entrance of the alley. Shadowy figures of people can be seen walking past, faraway and tiny, but still there. You're sure the darkness of the alleyway is enough to conceal the two of you, but if any of them come this way, if anyone walks back here…

"Hey."

Aki's voice interrupts your thoughts, his hand grabbing you firmly by your cheeks, and your gaze immediately darts back to him. There's a slight look of annoyance on his face, and in a resolute tone, his hips stalling, he sternly commands, "Look at me. Don't look anywhere else, I want you to focus on me."

You offer him a shallow nod. Aki starts up his rhythm again, his hand returning to hold the back of your head, shoving you down onto him, and his hips shifting forwards, inching his cock further into your mouth. You force yourself to keep your eyes on him, on his face.

Even though it's difficult to breathe, difficult to take him, it feels good, he tastes good. You begin to match his pace, bobbing your head in tune with his movements, swallowing him up as best you can manage. It's messy, wet tears coating your cheeks, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

His dick leaks warm precum down your throat. The shaft glistens from your drool each time you pull back, smeared a diluted red from what remains of your lipstick.

Aki brushes his fingertips over the cigarette-sized burn mark on your neck, rubbing it with his thumb, making it sting. You whimper, tears streaming down your face, and Aki cups your cheek in his palm, his thumb wiping them from your eyes. He sighs, and with his gaze still locked onto yours, you can see how his eyes become filled with adoration, his expression softening. In a voice barely more than a whisper, he mutters, "So pretty when you cry for me."

His breathing gets a little faster, his pace grows a little rougher, until he's fucking your mouth relentlessly, rolling his hips in an attempt to get himself even deeper inside. Your tongue swirls around his length — Aki whines, his body tensing; the stimulation on his dick is too much to handle, too perfect, too good, and when you force your head down, sucking hard, Aki can't take it, suddenly gasping, "F-Fuck, I'm gonna-"

He cuts himself off with a loud moan, his grip tightening in your hair, his head tossed back. For a moment, he considers pulling out, but when you shut your eyes and take him as far as you can, your lips wrapped around his base, he gives up; he buries his cock in your mouth as far as he can manage.

The pleasure builds, builds, builds, until with one last harsh suck on his dick, Aki feels it all boil over. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. His voice is strained, breaking, words slurred and nearly incoherent as he mumbles, "Oh God, cumming, I'm cumming — Swallow it, pretty baby."

And then, he's moaning through desperate gasps, his cock twitching as he spills into your throat. You swallow nearly all of his cum, reaching up to grip his thighs, your fingers digging into the fabric of his pants. When he's finally spent, sure that he's given you every last spurt of his cum, he relaxes, his body slumping against the wall. His hand softly strokes the back of your head: a subtle form of praise.

When you pull back, you wipe the drool from your chin and the tears from your face with the back of your hand. Aki catches his breath. His bangs stick to his forehead from his sweat, and he reaches up to hastily push them out of the way.

Slowly, he comes down, his eyes fluttering open; his gaze immediately darts to the entrance of the alleyway, lingering for a moment as the stars fade and his vision comes back into focus. No-one, that's good. He blinks away the rest of the haze before his eyes return to you.

You look like a mess, your cheeks tear-stained, your hair ruffled, trying your best to stifle little coughs. Well, he's sure he isn't faring much better. He's got to look pretty disheveled, too, with his tie loose, his face covered in sweat, and his cheeks red hot. And he's still hard, his dick starting to ache again, just at the sight of you.

Fuck, you could barely take him. You were choking on him so much, but still staring up at him with an eager, lust-filled look, like you were enjoying yourself just by pleasing him.

Yet, even though you could barely take him, even though you're still struggling to breathe, you're looking up at him with a wild, excited expression, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Aki has his gaze locked onto you, and he watches as you open wide, stick out your tongue, and let him see the bead of white — his cum — that lingers there.

Half in disbelief, half in pure ecstasy, Aki slurs, "Oh, God…"

You giggle, putting your tongue back in your mouth, and Aki swears he feels blood rushing to his dick when you swallow. When you speak, your voice is sickeningly sweet, enough to make Aki's heart leap when you ask, "You gonna fuck me now, sir?"

"Shit," Aki pushes himself off the wall, stumbling a little when he stands up straight. He finds his footing, then he crooks a finger at you, mumbling, "Up."

Your legs are a little shaky when you rise to your feet. Aki yanks his boxers up, not bothering to re-button his pants or fix his ajar belt. His hands fist your shirt collar, and before you can say anything more, he's yanking you towards him; his eyes flutter shut, and his lips come crashing onto yours.

The kiss is messy and desperate — You're wrapping your arms around his neck, and he's gripping your sides, dragging your body as close to his as he can get you. His lips feel just as soft and perfect as they look, and when they part, he's licking into your mouth, sucking eagerly on your tongue. You grip his tie to yank him in even more, and he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, bringing a hand to your jaw. His touch is delicate, a perfect contrast to how greedy his kisses are.

He tastes like fresh mint and the rich flavor of his cigarettes. You taste like himself, and the sensation has him reeling. His head goes foggy and light as he melts in the feeling of your lips on his, and just from this, he's already getting hard in his briefs again. You just taste too good, kissing you feels too amazing, too addicting. God, he's going to want to have you again, isn't he?

With his palm still holding your side, Aki carefully twists, switching your position with his. Before he presses you up against the wall, he places his hand over the small of your back, providing a buffer between you and the hard brick. Then, his hand is fumbling to pull your dress shirt out from where it's tucked into your pants. As soon as he's got it, he slips his hand up your shirt. Your whole body shivers at his touch, his hand cool on your warm skin.

Trailing his fingertips over your soft, bare skin, Aki feels the curve of your waist, traces the shape of your spine; he feels you melt into his touch, your body slumping, your back arching into him.

His fingertips are nimble, and his palm is calloused, but his touch feels absolutely heavenly. As his lips press harder against yours, he gropes and squeezes your breast through your bra, and you groan into his mouth.

When he pulls apart from you, you're both struggling to catch your breath, panting heavily, but he gives you little time to rest. You catch a glimpse of his face before he dips down — Pupils blown out wide, his face flushed, eyelids heavy — and then, his lips press softly to your neck.

You sigh out his name quietly, your fingers tangling through his hair, his topknot starting to come a little loose. His head feels fuzzy, his thoughts cloudy, but in a brief moment of clarity, between his gentle kisses and love bites, Aki whispers to you, "You wanna get out of here?"

Your response comes quicker than he expected. "No," You shake your head, gripping his hair tighter, "I can't wait, I want you right here."

Aki laughs dryly, burying his face into the nape of your neck. He should have known you would say that. His soft bangs brush over your skin, and his fingers absently toy with the hem of your bra, threatening to slip under.

"God, that's…" He pauses, exhaling a shuddery sigh, "That's dangerous, you know?"

"We've already taken plenty of risks, haven't we? What's one more?"

A bird chirps from somewhere above. A train whistles from someplace far away. Aki's hand slides down, feeling out the ridges of your ribcage. He rubs slow circles into your side with his palm, lost in thought. After a steady, deep breath, he softly replies, "If we… If I do this, then I'm not gonna be able to stop."

The way he says those words, his tone deep, his voice wavering — It implies exactly what he means. I won't be able to stop myself, I won't be able to hold back, even if someone walks down this alley.

You smirk. "Then don't."

Aki steadies himself with one last shaky breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. Then, he takes a few steps back from you. You see him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He reaches up, adjusting his askew tie, his eyes giving you a quick once over. He allows himself one last chance, one more moment of contemplation, of considering if he should actually go through with this. If he should really fuck you, you, a damn devil, right here, right now.

Well, should he? He's pretty sure he already established that he shouldn't, he just can't find it in himself to care. Right now, he's listening to his dick instead of his brain, but honestly, who can blame him? The way you're looking at him — It's like you're begging for him to let go, like you need for him to take you right now, in whichever way he pleases. It's absolutely intoxicating.

Still, you can see the hesitation in his gaze, the way he bites his bottom lip, how his fingers around his tie tremble more than they should. His tone seems genuine, softened at the edges when he asks you, "Are you sure, are you certain you want to do this?"

You huff, "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Because I'm- I mean, you can say if you want me to stop, y'know, if you…"

"Aki."

The firmness to how you say his name causes Aki to freeze. He eyes you up and down expectantly.

You continue, voice low, steady, "I'm sure, I've been sure. I told you, didn't I? You don't have to hold back with me." You breathe in, breathe out. A deep, heavy sigh. And then — "Do your worst."

Aki gulps. Do your worst. He wonders what his worst might be. What, exactly, you'd let him do to you. How much you'd be able to take. He supposes he'll find out.

In a strict, level tone, he commands, "Face against the wall."

You follow his instruction immediately, spinning around, and Aki continues, "Bend over. Spread your legs for me. Place your hands on the wall, like-" He steps forwards, grabbing your wrists in each hand and guiding you to press your palms flat on the brick. "This."

One of his hands settles on your waist, while he places the other on the small of your back. Aki guides you carefully until you're arched to fit perfectly under him: his tall frame is leant almost completely over yours, his hips are pressed up flush to your ass. Your arms are bent, your cheek nearly touching the brick wall, your legs spread a bit.

In this position, he's so close, and it's so obscene, your body arched, your legs open. Aki takes a deep breath, and with his chest fitting into the curve of your back, you can feel the way his chest expands, then contracts.

His body is large enough to dwarf your own, casting you in his cool, dim shadow. He wraps his arm under your stomach to pull you closer to himself, and when he does, you can feel the stiff outline of his cock in his briefs rub up against your ass — Already so hard, straining the fabric uncomfortably, dribbling precum out over his thigh.

Aki leans down, his deep voice close to your ear, breathless: "How bad do you want this?"

"Just as badly as you."

Aki chuckles. His palm travels down your back, all the way to caress the swell of your ass. "So, very, very badly then, huh?"

Your response comes in the form of a half-sigh, half-whimper as you shift to grind your ass on him, but to your surprise, Aki grabs your waist with an iron grip. He holds you still, stopping you. "Hey," You huff in frustration, "What's up, did you change your mind? Is someone coming?"

"No. I'll keep going, but there's something I want you to do for me first." Aki replies; his voice is suddenly stern, resolute, and it throws you off a little.

The gears in your head start to turn, and timidly, you ask, "And… What might that be?"

His hips shove towards you firmer as he drags you in, even closer. You can clearly feel his hard cock pressed up against you, but with him holding you still, you're provided no movement, no friction. It's fucking agonizing. His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, and he speaks at barely more than a whisper when he mutters, "I want you to apologize."

Aki nips at your ear; his warm breath and the intense closeness of his body on yours spread a wave of enveloping heat over your back. It's difficult for you to speak, your voice sounding feeble, but you still manage to ask, "...For what?"

Aki replies matter-of-factly, "For acting like a brat, and for your blatant disrespect."

"You… You can't be serious," You huff, rolling your eyes, "There's no way I'm doing that."

Aki's lips graze over your jaw, soft, but barely there. "Then you're not getting fucked. It's a pretty simple request — I'm not sure why you'd decide to throw a fit now, when you're so close to getting what you wanted. I thought you were more desperate than this." His voice is low, the slightest bit condescending, "You're still my subordinate, so be good and apologize like one."

Without a second thought, you snap, "Oh, bite me, you prick."

"I will if you ask nicely."

Aki grabs both of your hips, holding you still. Hesitantly, he grinds his clothed cock against your ass, a small gasp escaping his lips. Even through the layers of clothing: his boxers and your slacks, you can feel him. So thick, so close to giving you what you're desiring, but not quite.

As he slowly humps your ass, searching for whatever bit of friction he can receive, your mind begins to wander. His breath in your ear is heavy, shaky.

You think of when his cock was in your mouth, and imagine what it would feel like filling you up, his dick stretching you out. You imagine his precise fingers on your clit, long digits shoved in your aching pussy. A lump grows in your throat, a knot tightens in your chest. You want him so badly, so much it aches, and judging by the way he grinds on you, starting to rub his dick up against you with a desperate fervor, you're certain he wants you just as much.

Your lips quiver, words on the tip of your tongue, until finally, you blurt out, "Aki, fuck- I can't wait anymore. I really want you, please."

The desperate, syrupy tone to your voice causes Aki to briefly falter, if only for a second. His heart flutters in his chest, blood rushing to his cock, but his daze is shaken when you try to move your hips. He holds you firm, gripping even tighter: A silent command to hold still.

"You're so needy," He teases, his voice cold, but the slightest bit strained. When you yield, going slack under him, his hand slides around to your front, fingers toying idly with the button on your slacks. "We're supposed to be working, you know. But here you are, begging for me, and you couldn't even wait for us to go somewhere more private. You want my cock that badly? Tch, dirty girl."

Growing impatient, you counter, "And you were supposed to show me around the city, yet you're in some dingy alley getting your dick wet instead. I wonder what that says about you."

Aki wraps his arm around your stomach, dragging your body closer to his, making certain you feel the outline of his cock, how hard he is, how much he's throbbing. He mutters, "C'mon. That's no way to get what you want."

Even though he has his dick pressed up to your ass, even though he's grinding against you lazily, each of his sentences punctuated by his ragged breathing, Aki's voice assumes that same familiar, scolding tone. The tone that quickly puts you in the same overpowered, weak state you shifted in and out of when you first began this struggle. You're losing, again. But your head couldn't feel any higher.

Aki continues, his breath hot on your ear, "Talking back to me is going to get you nowhere. I'm sure I told you this before, I thought you understood. Were you not listening again?"

"I know," You slur, and there's heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassment, from the pressure, "I was listening, I swear."

"I don't think you were. If you had been paying attention, you'd be busy apologizing to me right about now."

"Aki-"

"Be quiet." Aki snaps, "I don't want to hear anything else out of your mouth unless you're doing what I asked."

Slowly, teasingly, he glides his hand down, his palm caressing your inner thigh; when he hears the immediate hitch in your breath, he drags his hand away, further from what you want. You can't help but whine in disappointment.

Aki grinds a little harder against you. His cock is sitting thick and heavy on his thigh, the fabric of his boxers soaked from his dribbles of precum. He's aching, dying to be inside you, to feel your tight walls around his cock, to fuck you stupid. But still, he doesn't let up, refusing to give in. He won't, not until you're compliant. Not until he wins.

Your breathing comes out faster, more uneven, and Aki is panting just as hard. He slips his hand under your shirt, fingertips tracing circles on your stomach, his touch so light and delicate it makes your whole body shiver. The shape of his dick on your ass, his touch on your skin, his large figure caging you in, his warm breath on your neck — Everything reaches a fever pitch, and with your mind in a haze, you finally crack.

"I'm sorry!" You shout. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes as you continue to babble, stumbling over your words, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir, please, forgive me. I really need you, I can't…"

Aki taunts, voice low, "Are you? What are you sorry for?"

You hear the button on your pants pop.

"For…" You gulp, "For acting like a brat, and for being disrespectful to you."

Then, you hear the zipper: drug down agonizingly slowly, the sound and the anticipation that comes with it seeming to cut through the echo of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You start to speak again — Sir, please, I'm — but before you can finish your sentence, Aki's fingers slip under your slacks. You cut yourself off with a sharp intake of breath.

"There we go." Aki praises, and he rewards you by pressing his fingertips to your clit through the fabric of your panties. He rubs faint, barely-there circles, but it's still enough to give you some of the pleasure you had been oh-so desperately searching for. Your legs tense up, a quiet whine escaping your lips. Your hands, still pressed to the brick wall, tighten into fists.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Aki takes his hand away to grab your pants, gently pulling them down to your thighs. Then, he cups your pussy in his hand. He can feel the warmth there with his palm, and when he speaks, his tone returns to the certain deep, resonating vibrato that always sends a pang between your legs. "Do you think you've been good enough to have me touch you? You think you've earned it?"

"Yes, yes," You reply quickly, but can hardly speak, nodding your head hurriedly. You're so wet, you're practically dripping, and you're certain he must be able to feel it through the damp fabric of your underwear. "I deserve it, I can be good. Just please-"

Aki interrupts, "You wanna be good for me?"

"Mhmm, yessir."

Leaning his body over you all the way, Aki hikes your dress shirt up to your chest, until his hand is able to grip your bare side. He gives you a gentle squeeze, then brings his other hand to hold under your chin. Carefully, he tilts your head upwards, guiding you to look up at him, his face situated directly above yours.

"Open your mouth."

You're following the command as soon as you hear it. You open your mouth slowly, staring up at him through a half-lidded gaze. It's difficult to see from this angle, but you're sure he looks composed, his messy bangs falling to frame his face. His expression serious, but his pupils blown out wide.

Aki taps his finger gently on your cheek. "You need to open wider than that. Stick out your tongue some, too. There we go."

He grips your chin tightly, his jaw flexes. A red-hot fire rises to your cheeks — You're embarrassed, sitting here with your mouth open wide and your tongue out, eagerly waiting for what you know he's going to do. This should be such a pathetic position for you to be in, this should be totally humiliating.

Shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself, of how desperate you're acting? And yet, all you can manage to think of, the one sensation that dominates everything, making your thoughts feel flowery, your limbs feel weak — All you feel is that utter, all-encompassing thrill.

And when he gathers saliva, spitting a glob of it directly onto your tongue, you whine, your thighs shake, your head feels dizzy and fluffy; Aki commands, "Swallow." And you're listening to those instructions to a tee, instantly feeling a rush of adrenaline and an ache between your legs the second you've swallowed down his spit.

Aki sighs deeply. His dick throbs once he sees you swallow, sending precum oozing down his thigh. His forehead falls to press to yours, his bangs brushed over your face. "Oh, fuck… Good girl."

He swiftly hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, hurrying to pull them down. His palms stroke your bare thighs, the stiff outline of his cock shoves against your ass — Even less friction than before, and you can feel it pulse with need, the fabric of his boxers a soaked mess.

"Where should I touch you?" Aki asks breathlessly, "Right here?"

Before you even have the chance to answer, he rubs his fingers through your soaked folds, gathering your slick on the digits. You're dripping out all over his knuckles, his hand quickly becoming a glossy, wet mess. Aki chuckles quietly, and he places a quick kiss to your forehead before leaning his head back over your shoulder, speaking close to your ear once more.

"God, you're wet… Did that turn you on, baby? Shit," His dick throbs, he exhales a half-sigh, half-moan, "You like it when I spit in your mouth? You're filthier than I thought you'd be. I love it."

You can't manage a response to that, just a feverish nod. Your eyes screw up tight, and you hear Aki spitting again — This time, into his hand. He brings his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit with the base of his spit-soaked palm, firm and rough.

If you're filthy for this: for wanting him to fuck you right here, in public, for getting wet when he scolds you, when he spit into your mouth — You're filthy, sure, but he's no better than you, is he? His dick is so hard it's aching, and you can feel his heart pounding like a drum where his chest presses to your back. He's the one who has you bent over here, who's getting off on teasing you perhaps even more than you are.

The heel of his palm rubs slow, deep circles on your clit. Aki taunts, "Feel good? I want you to tell me how it feels."

"Aki- S-Shit," The words barely come out, and you're speaking through tiny gasps when you mutter, "It's really good, please-"

You're not sure what you're begging for at this point, but Aki seems to get the hint. He brushes his fingers over your pussy, fingertips teasing at your entrance. "You want them inside?" He doesn't wait for an answer before he's easing two of his fingers inside you.

"That's it," Aki coos, his voice a little shaky. His fingers stretch you out, slowly and carefully. "Can you take them all the way?"

You manage to reply, "Mhmm.."

Your heart pounds incessantly in your ears, your legs threaten to buckle. You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, and briefly, Aki stops. His voice in your ear is quiet, calm, seeming to resonate deep in your skull, deep within your chest.

I'm right here. Focus on me. Got it?

You're pinned beneath him here: Aki resting his body weight on top of you, his fingers inside your cunt, holding you up by your tummy with his other arm. You press your thighs together, the inside of them slick and wet, his arm right between them. You can feel the smooth fabric of his suit jacket sleeve rubbing your skin. If his sleeve isn't filthy already, it's going to be ruined after this, surely.

Aki presses his fingers in knuckle-deep: his ring and his middle, the two longest. And they're so long, reaching so deeply inside you, stretching you out perfectly. Gently, he curls them, pressing them right up to your sweet spot, eliciting a needy whine from your lips.

I know it feels good, but don't make too much noise. We wouldn't want anybody to hear us.

You offer him a shallow nod and try to stifle your noises as best you can, but you're unable to hold back a few weak whimpers. His fingers are already soaked, glistening with your slick when he drags them out, echoing a lewd, wet sound when he pushes them back in.

With a soft groan, he shoves his cock firmer against your ass; he can feel it throbbing, aching with need. You're so wet, and he knows if he were to sink his cock into you, it'd slide in so easy — The thought alone is enough to make him feel delirious.

Shit… You want me to go faster?

Aki fucks you with his fingers until your legs are starting to shake. Your walls are so tight around the digits, squeezing them each time he drags them out, sucking them in greedily when he presses them inside — God, you're so desperate for him. Aki wants to give you more, needs to give you more. You've been so good, you deserve it. You deserve to have him give you everything.

He hears your breath start to pick up, sharp and desperate. The pace of his fingers stays steady, controlled, Aki determined to make you cum. His lips press faintly to the shell of your ear.

That's it, keep going, just like this. You're doing so well.

A tight knot coils in your stomach, your edge coming closer, closer — Aki holds you tight, and he pulls his fingers out to briefly rub precise halos over your clit, his fingertips soaked with your slick. You're shaking, gasping, up on your tiptoes as your back arches into him.

I want you to cum for me. You think you can do that, pretty girl?

His words are all it takes to make you fall apart. Your whole body trembles, your moans growing louder and louder; His free hand quickly comes to cover your mouth, his palm muffling your noise. He coos, Shh, shh. That's it. Oh, baby…

You cum hard for him, your whole body trembling, and Aki shoves his fingers back inside; he fingers you through your orgasm, blood rushing to his cock when he feels the way your cunt pulses around the digits. He draws out as much pleasure from you as he possibly can, only slowing when he notices you beginning to come down, and only dragging his fingers out of you when he's sure you're completely spent.

As you catch your breath, your muscles relaxed, the exhilaration in your head starting to fade, Aki removes his palm from your mouth to hold you up, close to himself, your weight supported on his arm. "You alright?" He murmurs, and you offer him a quick nod and a slurred, Yes.

You still want me, don't you?

You laugh. Come on, is that even a question you have to ask?

You're right. With the way you're already shifting your hips to grind your ass on him, a desperate look in your eyes as he grabs your chin, tilting your head up and to the side so he can look at you — It's clear you're nowhere near close to satisfied, and there's no way in hell Aki's quitting now. Not until he's given you all he has, not until you've finally had enough.

With his hand holding your chin, Aki runs his thumb along your bottom lip, bringing his other hand in front of your face. His fingers are soaked, glistening in the low light, and he slowly spreads them apart, letting you see the way your slick and cum sticks between them. "Look at that. You made such a mess, you gonna clean it up?"

His thumb pulls down gently on your lip, and you take the hint, parting your mouth obediently. Aki presses his fingers in slowly, careful not to push you too far, so you won't gag. Your tongue swirls around the digits, licking them clean, tasting yourself.

And once again, just like all the times before, the praise he utters into your ear sends your heart fluttering: That's my girl. You think you can take my cock now?

As soon as he's pulled his fingers from your mouth, still wet from your saliva, Aki makes quick work of yanking down his boxers. He grabs your hips to drag you towards him, his cock sliding in between your thighs. He's so hard, fucking aching, precum dribbling out from the sensitive tip, and it's so wet, messy with the slick that coats your thighs, your cunt practically dripping out onto him.

Aki, please.

The way you say his name so sweetly, so perfectly — He wants to fuck you so badly he's starting to get dizzy, to hear you say it over and over again, to make you say his name. His, because he's the one you're so desperate to have, he's the one you're bent over in a dirty alleyway for. You belong to him and you know it.

So desperate for me. Be patient.

Without even thinking, you counter, stammering, "I'm… I'm not desperate."

"If you're not, then," Aki rubs circles into your skin with his thumbs, holding your hips tightly. He ruts forwards to a lazy rhythm, fucking into your plush thighs, the shaft warm and wet, throbbing incessantly, the friction delicious on his aching cock. "You're fine if I keep doing this?"

He could spend an eternity here, teasing you as much as you can take, making you beg for him again and again, his dick buried between your thighs. But he knows what you want, knows what you need. You need more.

You can hardly speak: "No, I… I'm…"

"C'mon. Spit it out." Aki demands, "If you want it, tell me."

You swallow down the lump in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Your words come out as barely more than a whisper.

Aki, fuck me.

Aki scoffs. Tsk. Try again. Ask properly.

God, he's fucking difficult, even up until the very end, but you'd be a liar if you said you didn't enjoy it. You'd be lying if you tried to claim you didn't love this: the way he forces you into obedience, time and time again.

I want… I want your cock. Hayakawa, sir.

You hear a quiet whine, a hitched breath, as Aki presses his cockhead to your entrance. His dick throbs hard, and his voice trembles ever so slightly.

Ask nicely. Say please for me.

Then, a deep sigh of relief when he eases inside, pushing past the initial tight ring of your cunt, stretching you out just barely, around the fat tip of his cock.

God, it feels so good — You want him to sink all the way in, to fill you up with the entire length of his cock, to feel him as deep inside as he can possibly get. Without a second thought, desperate pleas continuously fall from your lips: Please, please, please.

Aki sees the way your legs begin to buckle, his arms around your middle holding you up tighter, closer to himself. You're under him, with his body leant over yours, his large frame dwarfing your own — You feel overpowered, owned, and the feeling only seems to multiply when one of his arms snakes under you, his large hand carefully wrapping around your throat. He squeezes, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make you melt, your head floaty and high, your nerves going numb.

In a tone that's deep, smooth, intense, Aki mutters into your ear, "That's a good girl."

Then, he rewards you, easing himself into you slowly, stretching you out around his fat cock. His knuckles tense, fingers tightening around your neck, his touch sending tingles throughout your head, your shoulders, your spine. Through heavy eyelids, his gaze flickers down; Aki watches, vision hazy and blurred at the edges as the shaft of his cock is buried deeper and deeper inside you. He's so wrapped up in the sight that he almost doesn't catch when you weakly mutter, More.

God, I'm gonna give you all of it.

And he does: he groans when he's sheathed himself all the way in, down to the hilt, gently rocking his hips, burying himself into you as much as he can manage. He's so deep; you can feel his cock in your stomach, all the way inside you, throbbing to a dull rhythm. His hips are shoved deft to your ass, his warm, bare, sweat-soaked skin pressed against yours.

Aki takes a moment to catch his breath. You take him perfectly, just as well as he imagined — No, even better. You feel so damn good around his cock, squeezing him tightly when he nestles in deeper, sucking him back in greedily when he tries to pull out. Perhaps if he knew from the start that you would feel this fucking amazing, he wouldn't have wasted so much time; he'd have you bent over for him from the minute you got here.

You feel his warm breath on your ear, his quiet voice, genuine and strained: You feel so, so good.

Starting up a gentle rhythm, Aki fucks into you with shallow thrusts, each movement careful and hesitant as he tries to give you a chance to get used to the feeling of him stretching you. He rests his weight on your back — You can feel his heartbeat drumming wildly in his chest, even through the layers of his shirt and suit jacket. If it wasn't for him holding you up, you're sure you would have fallen by now.

He gives your neck one more faint squeeze as he shoves his cock in, sending blood rushing to your head, before he drags his hand over to your stomach. With the heel of his palm, he presses down, adding more pressure, and you can't help but whine out his name.

"Aki," You manage, voice threatening to break at the end.

"You want more? Shit, you want me to fuck you harder, yeah?" Aki interrupts, saying exactly what was on your mind. "You gonna keep your voice down?"

In any other circumstance, or if Aki wasn't busy fucking your brains out, rendering coherent thoughts unable to form, maybe you would have considered yourself pathetic. Maybe you would have thought this, what's happening right now, was utterly embarrassing for you. Here you are, in a dirty back alley, with your superior's dick inside you, his hands all over you, and all you can think about is how badly you want more.

Your superior, fucking Hayakawa, who's a total ass, utterly insufferable, and here you are, begging like a little bitch for him to fuck you harder.

Without even considering whether or not you'll be able to fulfill his request, you're babbling, "Uh-huh, yessir, yessir."

Aki's lips graze over the shell of your ear. If you get too loud, I'm going to stop. Show me how well you can take it.

Whispered, slurred, you mutter a promise to him: I will.

After that, once he hears you say those few words, Aki stops trying to hold himself back.

His hands grip your bare sides, his fingers trembling, his palms warm. He starts fucking you like he really means it, burying his cock in over and over. The buckle of his belt jingles, still hanging loosely in the loops of his slacks, and the soft sound of skin hitting skin — his hips hitting your ass — begins to bounce off the enclosed walls of the alley. You can hear him in your ear: his gasps for air, hushed curses, little moans of ecstacy that he's unable to hold back, and you're practically biting on your tongue to shut yourself up.

Aki fucks you like he needs you, like he needs this, like he's needed someone to fuck like this for far, far too long. It's like he's taking out his frustrations on you, all of his resentment, and all of that pent up desperation he's had for so long now, everything building and building until it explodes — Until he fucks you like he's unable to quit.

One of his hands presses to the back of your head, shoving your face into the wall, the brick rough on your cheek. The other glides over your bare ass, where he grabs and squeezes, and when you promptly whimper, he's not sure what overtakes him, but he gives your ass a firm slap — Immediately soothing the sting by caressing your skin with his palm.

Fuck, I can't- You're squeezing my cock so much.

Your hands tighten, grabbing uselessly at the wall, fingertips scraping the surface. Aki suddenly grabs your chin, roughly jerking your head upwards, and you hear him mumble something that sounds like, Open.

You take the hint, opening your mouth wide, and while he's still fucking you, rutting his hips to a desperate fervor, Aki messily spits — The glob drips from his tongue, a string of drool, a total mess of his saliva. When it falls to your mouth, you gulp, and Aki groans, his dick throbbing at the sight, at the way you eagerly swallow down his spit.

He leans back, then, spitting another messy glob of saliva — It drips down your ass, all the way to the shaft of his dick, getting it slicker, wetter when he shoves it back inside and God, it's so damn wet, so soaked, so easy for him to fuck himself into you.

You're both getting louder, despite your attempts to keep quiet, and Aki hastily brings his hand to your mouth, covering it firmly with his palm. He leans in, his voice low and strict when he scolds, "I told you to be quiet. Do you want someone to hear us, or what?"

… Actually, he knows he shouldn't get excited by that thought — He knows he shouldn't feel his dick get harder, his breath come out quicker, and his heart hammer faster when he imagines someone walking down this alley and seeing him fucking you senseless, but he just can't help it. He can't help but feel like he wants someone to see, to know just how desperate and needy you are for him.

But, even if he enjoys the idea, he's still a man of his word, and when you're acting disobediently, something needs to be done.

So, Aki begins to slow his pace. His thrusts are deep, but restrained, agonizingly teasing as he drags his cock out lazily, feeling the way your walls tighten, gripping the shaft. You mumble something incoherent into his palm; perhaps a protest, or possibly a plea for more.

Nevertheless, Aki ignores it, and asks, "Can you hear that?"

You promptly shake your head. Honestly, it's hard for you to even hear anything. His voice sounds like it's been plunged underwater, your head fuzzy with clouds and fluff, your brain practically unable to think. All you're focused on is the intense pleasure you're feeling: warmth that spreads across your entire body, pooling in your gut, causing your legs to shake and your toes to curl. You try your best to pay attention, and you don't notice it at first, but then —

When he thrusts in again, that's when you hear it — A disgustingly wet noise, so loud, the echo seeming to fill the entire alley.

Heat rises in your cheeks, and a low chuckle falls from Aki's mouth. "So fucking wet…" He taunts, "You're still so loud. God, what am I going to do with you?"

Aki keeps his palm deft to your mouth as he begins rutting into you harder again, burying his face into your neck to stifle his noise. He fucks you faster, harder, putting his full weight into every thrust. His pace grows ragged as he chases his own pleasure, his hand shifting, his thumb pressing to your lips, urging you to part them. And when you do, he's shoving his thumb into your mouth, pressing it to your tongue, mumbling the command: Suck on it.

You do as you're told, lips closing around his thumb as you suck gently, your moans muffled, quiet. Aki feels himself start to lose control, his edge growing closer.

He groans, "Shit, I can't- I'm close-" He thinks he can hold out, but when you start whimpering around his finger, shifting your weight on your heels to press your ass into him, urging him to fuck you even deeper, he's pressing his lips to your throat, muttering into your skin, "You want my cum?"

"Yeah, yeah, I want it-"

"F-Fuck… You gonna ask for it nicely?"

Aki thinks, Of course you are.

"Uh-huh," You're stammering, nodding your head feverishly, Aki fucking you to a desperate pace, "Please, I want your cum, Hayakawa, sir, please."

Hayakawa, sir. God.

Aki yanks your dress shirt up to your chest as he pulls out, and he wraps his hand around his cock, jerking it with a tight grip. The tension snaps, and Aki gasps — His cum shoots from his cock, ropes of sticky white covering your back, your ass, dripping down to your thighs, getting you utterly filthy. He lets his cock lay over your ass, squeezing the sensitive tip of his cockhead, making sure everything he has to give you drips out onto your skin.

"H-hah, shit," Aki mumbles, his voice hoarse, breathless, "So messy… Such a good girl. Such a good girl for me."

He comes down slowly, catching his breath, his arm coming to wrap around your stomach when he sees you starting to slip. With a shudder he can feel across his entire body, Aki drags his half-hard cock over your ass, over his cum, and although he's trying to calm down, when he looks at you like this, as you eagerly grind your ass up against him, he just can't.

He's swiftly filled with the imperative to fuck you again, to get more, because he isn't done. There's more he can give to you, more he can take.

Still, the prickle of nervousness welling in his chest causes him to turn and look towards the entrance of the alley. There's more people than ever. He can see their small, shadowy forms as they walk past. If any of them walk just a little bit closer, then…

For a very brief moment, Aki considers stopping. He contemplates whether or not he should ask you if this is too much, if you two should get out of here like he initially suggested. But, all of those hesitations are cast away, all of his nervousness is replaced by a wave of desire the moment he hears you speak.

You beg, "Aki, please. I want more, want you to make me cum- Please, can you?"

It's risky, and only getting riskier. But when you ask him like that, when you beg for him to make you cum, how is he supposed to resist you? You always win in the end.

So, Aki slurs, "Okay, okay, yeah." He places his hands gently on your waist, instructing, "Turn around for me, baby."

As you shakily stand to your feet, he holds you up by your waist so you won't fall. Then, he guides you to twist until your back is pressed to the wall, your weight leant on it, and your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

Aki reaches up, grasping the diamond of his tie, carefully loosening it until it hangs undone around his collar. You clasp your hands around his neck, and he pops the buttons on his suit jacket next, taking it off and tossing it to the ground — It's filthy already, anyway — leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt.

He hikes his sleeves up to his forearms, exposing his biceps, skin covered in scars from various contracts, and you're reaching down to jerk him as he does it, your palm around his cock quickly getting him hard again.

Aki's eyes meet yours. Gently, he places his arms under your ass, lifting you up until you can wrap your legs around his waist. The metal of his earrings glint in the dim light, the tips of his ears a faint shade of pink.

He looks so different from what you're used to, from the way he normally looks: so serious and poker-faced. Right now, his gaze is deep, filled with longing, his pupils blown wide. His messy bangs stick to his forehead from sweat, his eyelashes flutter, and his cheeks are flushed a light tinge of pink, warm to the touch when you cup his face in your free hand.

He's pretty like this, you think. He's pretty when his bangs frame his face, when his hair is loose and unkempt, close to falling out of his topknot. He's pretty with his soft lips parted, when he's only in his dress shirt, with his slacks pooling at his ankles, when he's so goddamn needy for you. His voice sounds pretty and deep when he slurs a quick, You ready? And when you nod, he's easing back into you — The expression on his face then is the prettiest.

It's warm, wet, tight, especially from this angle. Aki's breath hitches the second he's pressed in, and as his cock slowly fills you, the pleasure starting to build up again, he clumsily grabs your chin, pulling you in until your lips come crashing onto his.

He moans into your mouth as he kisses you, his tongue swirling around yours, your hands fisted in his collar to drag him in even closer. He buries his cock in deeper, all the way, and it's so much, too much — His dick is so sensitive he can hardly stand it, and it's so damn messy when he thrusts in, the shaft smeared with his cum, your pussy dripping with your own arousal. He pulls his lips away from yours to gasp for breath, starting to fuck you to a steady rhythm, as best he can handle.

His head is cloudy, all his limbs feel light, and when he buries himself in the tight warmth of your cunt, he finds himself drowning in the feeling. You feel so good, so amazing — You're so warm, so close, and there's so much pleasure. So much, so much, so much, and, God, he's going to lose his fucking mind.

Your hand holds the back of his head, fingers threading through his soft hair. When he suddenly thrusts into you hard, you whimper, gripping close to the scalp, sending tingles down his neck and over his shoulders. Aki presses feverish kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your nose, and when he pulls back, his forehead falls to press against yours. His words are mumbled softly from his throat, barely more than a whisper.

You take me so well, you know that?

He's forehead to forehead with you then, his topknot coming looser and looser as your hands tug at his hair with every rough thrust. Aki can feel sweat dripping from his brow, can hear the wet squelch of his cock fucking into your soaked cunt.

You want me to fuck you harder, baby? Tell me what you want, I wanna make you cum.

You nod and babble without a second thought, Yeah, Aki, please.

Aki gasps — Oh my God… — His pace growing faster, less contained. It's hard for him to breathe, even harder for him to think, but the way you say his name is so amazing, so perfect, all he knows is that he needs to hear you say it again. He doesn't care who hears anymore, he doesn't care that you're both getting louder and louder, your moans turning into screams. All he cares about is you, you, you.

Aki grips your waist tighter, tight enough you're sure his grip will bruise. He commands breathlessly, "Want you to say my name again. Tell me who's fucking you so good right now."

His voice is all it takes to have you oblige: You chant his name, over and over again, tell him, You are, you are, Aki. Each time it falls from your lips, his heart skips a beat, his dick throbs and holy shit — He needs to give you his cum, he needs to finish with you, more than he thinks he's needed anything in this goddamn world.

With each thrust in, he's hitting that perfect sweet spot deep in your core, pushing you to the edge. You feel it coming, your breath starting to quicken, your muscles starting to tense, the pleasure boiling and boiling and —

"Aki!" You cry out his name, your eyes screwing shut, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum…"

"Yeah, h-hah, I'm close too," Aki presses a quick, faint kiss to your forehead, his lips soft, his touch tender. Your high approaches with a rush of adrenaline and waves of pleasure, and just before you fall to pieces, just as you're reaching your peak, Aki's deep and smooth voice mutters instructions that push you right over the edge.

Cum for me. Get my dick nice and wet, pretty girl.

You're falling apart for him then, your whole body tensing, your hands clamoring at his back, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt, your cunt throbbing around his dick; you bury your head in his shoulder to stifle your noise, but Aki can still hear your moans, your wobbly chants of his name. Aki, Aki, Aki — Over and over again, so fucking desperate, so pretty, and all for him.

Aki presses a firm hand to the back of your head, holding you there, close to himself. He fucks you clumsily, his hips beginning to stutter, and when he feels you cum on him, squeezing like a vice around his cock, he can't hold himself back from riding the same high.

He shoves himself in deep, fucking you shallowly through his orgasm, his cock spilling inside, filling you with the last of his cum. He gasps out your name as he finishes, incoherent strings of curses and gasps alongside it — Fuck, fuck, feels so- Oh God, babygirl… — his voice high-pitched, strained. His vision goes white, his hands tremble as he holds onto your sides, and his whole body shudders before his muscles relax.

Time appears frozen in place for a few short moments. You begin to catch your breath, your heart rate slowing down, the high you were feeling starting to fade. Once exhaustion hits your limbs, your body slumps, and Aki holds you up, muttering quietly into your ear, "I've got you."

His breath feels warm on your cheek as he exhales shallow gasps. Your eyelids feel heavy, sleepy, the warmth of his body held close to yours just amplifying the feeling. Aki whispers, "You okay?" And when you nod your head, he softly instructs, "Here. I'm gonna set you down. Put your arms around me."

You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders, and very carefully, Aki puts you down, making sure you've regained your stability before he fully lets go.

Everything starts to become clearer as Aki helps you get dressed, one of his hands kept on your waist to steady you. He pulls up your pants, buttons them, tucks your shirt in so it looks orderly. He brushes messy strands of hair from your face, his fingertips brushing over the marks on your skin, over your neck — Undeniable proof that he was there, that this was real. Even now, he still finds it hard to believe.

Perhaps he should be angry with you, perhaps he should scold you for what happened. But… Honestly, after taking out his stresses on you, he feels too calm to make a big deal out of it.

He fixes himself next: he pulls up his slacks and re-clasps his belt buckle. He bends down to snatch his suit jacket from the ground, pulling it back over his shoulders and buttoning it up. He grasps his tie, straightening it, pulling to make it tight.

His gaze meets yours as he's reaching up into his hair, grasping the loose hair tie to pull it out, dark, messy locks falling around his face. "You're not talking," He says, crooking an eyebrow, "You must be tired."

You groggily reply, "Mhmm… I am. Really tired." You pause, nearly losing your train of thought when you look at him, admiring the way he looks with his hair down, so pretty — But once you find it again, you ask, "Do you think anyone saw us?"

Aki takes a quick glance at the entrance to the alley. The traffic seems to have cleared, with much less people walking by than before. Nothing seems suspicious, nothing seems out of the ordinary, and when he looks towards the other side of the alleyway, he concludes that the two of you are still very much alone.

He shakes his head and replies, "No, no. I don't think so."

Although your brain still feels hazy and muddled, and your body feels weak and weary, you've begun to come to your senses. The reality of the situation, of what happened, hits you all at once, and as if he can read your mind, Aki tells you, "We don't have to talk about any of this, if you don't want to."

With his hair tie around his wrist, he grabs his hair, tying it up neatly into his signature topknot, nice and tight. He shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket once he's done.

"No, it's fine, it's…" You avert your eyes for a moment, trying to think, "It's okay. To talk about it, I mean. I don't regret anything."

Aki hums, "That's good to know."

He finds his cigarettes, pulling one out and sticking it between his teeth. Then, his lighter, and he tilts his head away from you to strike the wheel, a small flame bringing his cigarette to life.

To break the silence, you ask him, "You gonna make me go back to work now?"

Aki shrugs his shoulders. "C'mon," He replies, putting his lighter back in his pocket, smoke wisping up from the end of his cig, "I'm not that mean. You live around here? I'll walk you home, I'll tell Makima you got sick or something."

"No, I don't. They had me staying at Public Safety for now."

Aki takes a long drag in from his cigarette. The nicotine soothes his lungs, relaxing his body and his mind. He feels calmer, more composed, his worries melting away. Perhaps that's why, after he's exhaled the smoke from his lungs, when he opens his mouth next, he's saying to you, "I'll take you back to my place, then."

"What?" You exclaim, "No way, that's not necessary."

"I won't be there, I still have work I need to get done today. I'll give you my keys, you can leave whenever you're ready. Or stay until I get back, it's up to you."

"But-" You're about to protest, but instead, you sigh in defeat. "Alright, fine. You missed a spot, by the way."

"Huh?"

You grab his shirt collar, still smeared with a bright red lipstick stain, and tuck it into his jacket. In the dim light, it's difficult to tell, but you swear you can see the slightest tinge of pink dawn on Aki's cheeks. He says nonchalantly, "Oh, thanks."

Tapping his cigarette with his finger to scatter the ash, Aki brings his free hand to your waist, holding it hesitantly, his eyes scanning your face as if he's waiting for some kind of objection. When there is none, he brings his cigarette back to his lips, taking another drag before abruptly asking, "Did Makima assign you a buddy yet?"

"...What's that?"

"Everyone at Public Safety has a partner for going on patrols and such. It's safer that way, to work in pairs," Aki explains, "You should be mine."

"Huh? Really?" You huff a dry laugh and lean back further against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're joking, right?"

"Nope." When he answers, his voice sounds stern and serious as ever, true to his words. "My last buddy quit, so now I don't have one."

"That's not what I meant. I mean like… Why would you ask me? I thought you hated my guts." You scoff, "You really wanna be buddies with a devil?"

Aki eyes you up and down, his expression poker-faced. "Considering what I just did with said devil, I don't think it's so crazy." He tilts his head upwards, exhaling smoke into the afternoon sky. "I'll take back my proposal if you're not interested."

"No, I'm…" You blurt out, looking away sheepishly, "I'm interested."

"Good. I'll give the paperwork to Miss Makima. You'll have to sign some things tomorrow."

As seconds bleed into minutes, puffy white clouds passing idly in the sky, Aki finishes his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and stamping it out with the heel of his shoe. He takes a step back from you, looking down, checking to make sure he looks in order.

There's still one more thing lingering in your mind, and so, you ask him, "Hey, Aki."

Aki looks up, "Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Aki chuckles. He reaches down, grabbing his sword sheath from off the floor. "Yeah, I do. I thought so when I first saw you."

You huff, "Wish you'd have just admitted to that from the start."

"Well," Aki stands up straight, tossing the strap of his sheath over his shoulder. A soft, ever-so slight smile forms on his face. "If I had done that, we wouldn't have had as much fun, now would we?"

He rustles around in his pockets, finding his keys. The keyring jingles when he places them in your open hands. You examine them: there's a couple of silver keys, a metal tag with his last name, and a small label of a three digit number. His apartment number, you assume.

"So…" You start, looking up at him, "I guess this means we'll be working together from now on, yeah? You better not argue with me the whole time. I'd like to do my job in peace, you know."

Aki smiles a little bit wider. "Don't worry. I think we'll get along just fine."

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The endless lull of the clock on the wall would be enough to make Aki fall asleep, if he wasn't busy finishing up paperwork.

He sighs, learning back further in his office chair, rubbing some of the tiredness from his eyes with his hands. Even though he rushed to the Public Safety building the second he was finished with his assignments, it still feels like he's been here forever. Thankfully, he's nearly done filling out papers. Soon, he'll be able to head home.

As he stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, counting each speckle of popcorn in the drywall, he wonders if you're still at his place, or if you've left already. He told you to make yourself at home, so perhaps you're still there, watching late-night television. Maybe you raided his fridge and ate all his leftovers.

A small part of him hopes you'll be there when he arrives, greeting him at the door as he walks in. Or maybe curled up asleep on the couch, because you couldn't stay awake any longer. He definitely wouldn't blame you.

A gentle knock at the door stirs him from his thoughts. Aki sits up straight, and a voice from behind it quietly asks, "Can I come in?"

"Yes." Aki answers, and he swivels his chair towards the door just as it opens. A woman with long, braided red hair steps in, and she greets him with a soft smile and a wave.

"How was today?" Makima asks, closing the door, then crossing her arms behind her back. "What do you think of our new recruit? Did you two get along?"

"They're…" Aki narrows his eyes. He taps the tip of his pen idly against the desk. "...Interesting."

"Do you think they'll be useful?"

Aki scoffs, "They like to mess around more than they like to work, but it's nothing we can't whip back into shape, so, yes. I would say so."

"Hm, alright," Makima places a hand to her chin, cocking her head slightly. "I saw the paperwork you left on my desk. You made a request to change your buddy, didn't you?"

"Oh, yes ma'am. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'm just surprised is all. I thought for sure you two would end up hating each other. I suppose I was wrong."

Aki stays silent for a moment. Yeah, that's what he thought too, wasn't it? When this day started, all he could do was count down the minutes until it was over in his head, until he wouldn't have to deal with you anymore. But now, he can't even focus on his paperwork because he's too busy thinking about you, too busy wondering when he'll get to see you again.

Damn, when did he get so obsessed? Was it by your doing, or was it his?

He doesn't know, so he just shakes his head and replies, "I thought so too. But I guess… I don't."

Makima eyes him up and down for a moment. "Well, as long as you fill out all the necessary paperwork, and make sure you get our new recruit to fill it out as well, I can approve your request."

Aki nods. "Okay, thank you."

Makima turns to leave. Aki turns back to his paperwork. The clock continues to tick, and his pen scratches the desk as he checks a box, then messily signs his name in cursive. The door opens with a creak, Makima takes one step out, but then she abruptly turns around.

"Oh, and Hayakawa?"

Aki looks up. "Yeah?"

"The next time I have you two patrol together, make sure you actually get some work done. I'm enlisting you two to hunt devils, not fuck on the job."

And with that, Makima steps out of the office, leaving Aki to stare wide-eyed and red-faced at the door as it swings shut.

credit to @cyancherub 's fic gunsmoke in mirrors for inspiration

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa smut #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader

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all4yoi · 2 months

Text

𝒮ins 𝑜f 𝒯he ℳanor ۰ sjy

𝑔ardener!jake x 𝓁ady!reader ⚹ cw. set in 1880s, angst??, fluff, mentions of arrange marriage, love at first sight??, jake is down bad, sunghoon punches jay lol, heeseung mentioned grahh, theyre just rlly inlove idk, toxic family kinda, not proofread

sypnosis: Y/N L/N, a lively aristocrat, finds herself in love with Sim Jaeyun, the estate gardener. Their secret romance defies societal expectations, jeopardizing both their reputations and family honor as they navigate the treacherous waters and the consequences of cross-class affection.

or in short, wherein Sim Jaeyun finds himself longing for the infamous nobleman's daughter the longer he works for their estate.

notes, word count is like 5.7k haha, i wrote this for 3 nights, anyway i rlly loved writing this! if you like it to, please reblog~

The day you were welcomed to the world, your mother has always told you how your grandmother washed your face with water that had rose petals in the basin with it. She had said that doing so will grant the baby beauty.

You weren't sure if that moment had any connection on your adoration to roses now that you've grown to a fine young lady. Usually, a smile would be adorned on your face whilst you stood admiring the roses in one corner of the huge garden you and your grandmother had built over the years, if it weren't for the fact that the roses were wilting now.

Their usual bold red color has gone darker and its petals drier. You could revive them, obviously, but you didn't know how. Your grandmother died three days ago and throughout your life, she had taught you everything you needed to know in gardening.

Now it looks like she forgot to teach you one thing. She was always quite forgetful.

Two warm hands placed themselves on your shoulders.

"Do not fret, my darling. Your father has already secured the assistance of someone who will restore your roses to their former beauty." came the voice of your mother as she squeezed your shoulders reassuringly.

You stood unresponsive before turning to look at her.

"Thank you, mama."

"He shall arrive by noon tomorrow. Let us return to the manor; it is growing rather dark."

With that, you turned your back on the wilting roses and walked away. Atleast, by tomorrow, one of the two things you loved and lost will be brought back. Hopefully.

"You got a job with the L/N's? That's huge! What will you be doing there?" Sunghoon, a friend of Jake's questioned eagerly.

Jake patted his trousers, removing unwanted dust that had clung on to him whilst he prepared everything he needed.

"Well, just some gardening, of course. That's what I was told. That's what I do for a living." he answered briefly before putting his sling bag over his shoulder.

Sunghoon scrunched up his nose, "That sounds a bit dull, even though I've expected it, but good luck! I'll see you around!" he says as he pushes his friend by the shoulders and jogging away from him.

Jake huffed and began his journey to the L/N Manor.

The walk was rather peaceful, greeting acquaintances he meets along the way and helping some when he notices they need one.

Looking up the sky, Jake came to an abrupt stop before coming up in a sprint.

He said he was to arrive at noon, and noon was approaching much sooner than he planned. He supposes it was because of the constant helping hand he had lent towards the people he came across with.

He should really stop doing those at the wrong time.

"You are tardy, young man. You should consider yourself fortunate that only Lady Y/N is waiting. The Earl and Countess are presently engaged in their duties elsewhere." An elderly housemaid nags, tutting disapprovingly at the sweating young man infront of her.

"I'm terribly sorry, really am." Jake spoked in between pants, he saw the housemaid's glare soften before he was urged inside as the elderly woman led him towards the back of the manor.

Jake could only gape at the size of the house, oh what he would do to live in a house like this.

His mouth only widened at the sight of a large garden where he was now walking into, the elderly woman still leading him somewhere secluded.

He spun around but continued to walk, admiring the scenery infront of him. There were various of colorful flowers like tulips, pansies, marigolds, lilies.. everything. He could spot a greenhouse in one corner, a pond in another, a fountain in the middle, and a maiden standing over a bush of.. wilting roses.

Guess he found his job.

"Lady Y/N, the gardener has arrived. Should you require any assistance, please do not hesitate to summon me."

And with that, Jake was left alone with the Earl's only child and daughter.

"Pray excuse my tardiness, m'lady. I was detained by.. an unforeseen matter." he spoke softly.

Turning around, you were met with big brown eyes staring right back at you. If you had noticed the way they widened, you didn't mention it.

Eyeing him up and down, you studied his appearance. He was dressed in beige trousers and a white linen shirt with its sleeves folded up until his elbows, he wore a brown sling bag and a small black beret sat on top of his rather long black hair.

Father would've nagged him for that.

"M'lady?" his voice was rather attractive, you noted. It suited his face.

"Pardon me, I was under the impression that you would be somewhat older." you sent a small smile as he scratched his nape.

"Ah well-"

"Please don't misunderstand me! I am delighted to be speaking with someone of my own age... You are of similar age to myself, aren't you?"

Jake broke into a wide smile, biting his lower lip as he chuckled. The heavy load on his shoulders seemed to have been lifted. You weren't like those.. pardon him for saying, brats, that he had worked with from the past.

So far in his life, Jake has encountered two noble families (your family being the third), considered that he was the grandson of the greatest gardener in town.

The Baron's twin daughters spoke in this shrilly voice as they constantly nagged him for cutting the stems of their flowers when he had only wanted the plant to absorb more water properly. He had been sacked the same day.

Meanwhile the Viscount's daughter only flirted with him any chance she got and when he had rejected her politely and respectfully (he didn't want to lose his job and ruin someone's reputation, also because he wasn't intrested), she bawled and at the end, he was fired and was forever banned from their manor. Not like he's planning on coming back anyway.

So seeing you with pure kindness and innocence written all over you, gave him a bit of hope that you'd be better than the previous daughters he had dealt with.

"Yes, I am, m'lady. I am Sim Jaeyun. Please, do call me Jake." he bowed his head lightly before stepping forward, now standing side by side with the pretty maiden. He eyed the roses, some were dying, some were already dead.

"My grandmother passed away four days ago; though you may already be aware of this. She and I planted these roses together, but since her funeral, they have begun to wilt. I am at a loss as to how to restore their former beauty." you spoke softly, brows furrowing as you crouched down and caressed one rose that was still of color and beauty.

Looking up at the attractive boy, you sent him a genuine smile.

"I do hope you can assist me, Sim Jaeyun."

"Do not worry, my lady; it would be the last thing I'd do."

The next day, despite the usual bright sky being covered with dark rain clouds, Jake had a small smile on his face as he began his journey to the manor he'd be working in for the next following months.

Not only was he going to take care of the roses, but he was also offered the job of maintaining the garden's beauty, regardless of its heavy responsibility he did not think twice in accepting the offer, maybe it was the pay that made him accept or maybe it was the simple love he had for what he does.

Upon arriving at the manor, he was immediately led towards the garden by a different maid this time.

Jake skipped over towards the rose bushes and began to do his work. He had noticed that you were nowhere to be found, he had atleast expected to see you hanging around in the garden.

An hour has passed and he was now tending on the marigolds, admiring its beauty and sprinkling it with some water.

He felt a drop of water on his eyebrow, then another on his nose. It was starting to rain.

Jake didn't know why his first thought was to run to the greenhouse when he was much more closer to the manor's backdoor. He followed his gut, and now here he was, stuck in the greenhouse as the rain echoed inside.

"Mr. Sim?"

Turning around abruptly, he was met with your wide eyes staring back at him.

You were wearing a custom made dress in a shade of light blue, it fell down until your shoes weren't visible. Your hands were covered in dirt as you stood infront of the tomatoes.

"Lady Y/N! How delightful to see you!" he greeted with a smile before it fell as realization dawned to him.

He walked closer to you, his eyes scanning your form. Now that he was closer, he could see some stains of dirt littered on your neck down to your clothed torso.

"May I ask what brings you here?" he questioned, looking at the tomatoes on a basket before averting his gaze back to you.

"I was simply attending to the tomatoes. This is how I pass the time, as there is little to occupy me within the estate." your soft voice could kill millions, he thinks to himself. He takes a handkerchief from his trousers and held out his hand.

"Do you mind if I..?" you stared at his hand and shook your head, bringing your softer hands against his.

He began wiping away the dirt, trying his hardest not to look up and stare at your face. Jake knew that you were fairly beautiful, but he was already crossing the line of holding your hand and tending to you.

For goodness sake, you have your own personal maid who's job is to do this!

"I did not anticipate the rain today; I came here straight away upon finishing my breakfast." you had explained, looking up at the clear ceiling of the structure and watching the rain drops fall.

Jake dropped your now clean hands gently before walking towards his discarded bag on the ground. "Here, I have a coat in my bag. You may drape it over your head and return to the warmth of the estate. It will be far more comfortable there than it is out here."

"And what of yourself? You're not intending to remain out here, are you?" Jake gaped at you, his mouth opening and closing as he swallowed down the lump in his throat.

Having no response from the young man, you added, "I shall remain here with you until the rain lessens somewhat."

"But-"

"I insist."

So with that, the two of you stayed together sharing stories of your own experiences, sharing laughter, and slowly building a bond.

As the rain slowly calmed down, Jake had thrown his jacket over your head and led you out the greenhouse. His arms were still holding on to the jacket to keep it from slipping off whilst your head was practically shoved in his chest.

The sounds of your laughter were silenced with the pitter patter of the rain as you two ran back to the manor.

"Lady Y/N! I was searching for you—oh dear! We must get you cleaned up before your mother arrives and sees you in such a state. Come along, quickly!" your personal maid whines as she nearly rips you away from the gardener's arm, not sparing him a glance as she took the jacket off your head and on to the floor.

You spared him a glance over the shoulder of your maid, smiling and mouthing 'thank you.' Jake was quite sure that you've brought his heart with you as you walked away from him.

That day, you learned that Jake had a deep connection to nature and craftsmanship. He was undeniably refreshing compared to the suitors your mother would force you to spend time with. He was authentic, extremely kind, and he longed for a life defined by passion and purpose rather than societal expectations. Just like you did.

For the past few days, Jake had been visiting the manor to tend on the roses and everything else. Everytime he did, you'd be sitting somewhere far yet near enough to see what he's doing. He would never admit it, but everytime he woke up in the morning, all he'd ever think about is seeing you.

If you weren't in the greenhouse, you'd sometimes be under a tree and have a book with you, maybe a tea, or your white feline friend, and sometimes it was just you and your pretty face.

Occasionally you'd even approach him and crouch down beside him, just watching the way his hands work on your precious roses. Maybe even share hidden caresses of each others hands as you two worked together on some days.

Today was one of those days.

"Do you see what I have done?" Jake spoke, gesturing over the basket filled with dead roses and leaves. "I have removed the roses that were wilting, dying, and drying. These were afflicted with diseases that might spread and endanger the remaining roses."

"I have also removed some of the weeds growing around the bush, as they might be competing for the nutrients that should be going to the roses themselves."

He only received an understanding nod and a small smile in return. During these moments, he had to hide the shake in his hands, not because of fear. He was overwhelmed, you were too pretty to be true.

Pausing in his words, he stared at your face. Memorizing each feature.

Then suddenly, he found his fingers tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. You merely stared back at him, letting him caress you.

He was developing a crush on someone he knows he shouldn't. He'd be banished not only of this job, but possibly his house too. He knows it's impossible for an Earl to do that, but he'd be able to financially ruin him and his grandfather that would cause them to leave their warm abode.

As much as he wanted to pursue you, he could not, and he (somewhat) already accepts that. So, he'd stand firm and do the job he's told to do.

"It appears that you two are finding much pleasure in each other's company."

You immediately stood up and dusted your dress to get rid of the dirt that had clung to it.

"Mama.. I was only-"

"Inside the manor, Y/N, we have guests coming, and your father is seeking your presence." she cooly said, her cold eyes staring straight at the gardener who was now also standing.

The girl simply nodded, sparing a quick glance at Jake before walking back to the manor.

"Your ladyship." Jake bowed his head before meeting the eyes of the tall woman.

"I trust you have not forgotten your duties. You are to attend solely to the flowers; becoming familiar with my daughter is not part of what my husband has entrusted you with, am I correct?" she raised an intimidating brow at him.

"You are absolutely correct, my lady. I assure you it will not happen again."

"I hope so, especially now that she is to be wed to the Duke's son. You are dismissed for today. Good day." and before he could even answer, the tall woman turned her back on him and walked away.

Jake felt his world come crashing down.

As he picked up his gardening tools he couldn't stop the tightening in his chest, he knew he had no right to feel this way. He was a gardener, you were an Earl's daughter.

You'd be better off with the son of a Duke. You won't gain anything from marrying a gardener, someone who cuts plants for a living and lives off of minimum wage.

Closing his eyes briefly, he exhaled and slapped himself in the chest in an attempt to get rid of its tightness.

As he said, he'd stand firm and do the job he's told to do.

And that is to tend to the roses, and not become familiar with the only daughter of the L/N's.

"What has you feeling so low?"

"God! I didn't expect to see you awake gramps." the sudden voice of his grandfather surprised him so much that he had accidentally slammed the door of their home so loud.

"And I'm not feeling low, merely fatigued, that's all." he added and dropped his bag on a stool before taking a bread from their kitchen.

His grandfather squinted his eyes at him before clearing his throat, he opened his newspaper before reading out loud.

"Lee Heeseung, son of the Duke, is reported to be betrothed to Y/N L/N, daughter of the Earl."

"Gramps, you should go to bed. You need to rest; why are you out here?"

His grandfather merely tutts, shaking his head and sighing. "Don't tell me you have become enamored with the daughter of an Earl?" his strained voice grumbled out.

Jake clicks his tongue and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I have not. What made you come up with that conclusion?" he asks, now looking at his grandfather.

"Don't look at me like that." he muttered.

"Like what, son?"

"Like you understand how I feel, as though you pity me." he replied, his eyes turning glassy.

His grandfather sighed, taking a sip of his coffee and gasping loudly after. "I would prefer not to have my grandson's head presented to me by the Earl one random morning. You ought to know better, Jaeyun."

Jake huffed in annoyance, chewing aggressively on his bread.

"I cannot help it! And it is not as though I could do anything about it. She is.. after all, to be wed soon." he spoke with his mouth full of bread.

"To a duke's son too.." he silently added before walking away and to his room.

The old man sighs, taking an old photograph he always kept on his chest pocket. He stared longingly at the girl in the picture who was smiling widely, a rose tucked on her ear.

Jake covered himself in his thin blanket, staring at the ceiling. There was no denying that he held affection towards you. You, who was a free spirit that was a stark contrast to the rigid expectations of the society and constraints he had experienced throughout his life. He had never met anyone like you—curious, admiration towards anything, and your willingness to engage with him and his work.

You made him feel seen and valued, something he rarely feels in the society you both lived in. You didn't care about money, you weren't disgusted by him when he touched you, you didn't push him away.

He loved you dearly, yet it was nearly impossible to have you as his.

"Papa, I do not wish to marry just yet, I beg you!" you exclaimed as soon as the Duke and his son has left your estate.

Your father merely glared at you over his shoulder before completely facing you. "You will marry! You should be grateful that they insisted on coming here rather than us having to go their estate!"

"But—why? You and Mama promised you would grant me a few more years after my 18th before arranging my marriage!" you argued, nearly in tears.

From behind you, your mother's nose flared in rage.

"Do not think we are unaware of your growing relationship with the gardener! My God, what would people say?" you turned to her, your eyes wide in shock.

"Wha-"

"Everyone in this estate has been observing you both and has not failed to tell us when something prosperous happens between you both. You are marrying the Duke's son, and that is final." your father walks away, leaving you with tear stained eyes as you hear your mother's heels click as she too, walks away.

Ever since that day, Lee Heeseung has begun to make his presence known at L/N Manor by visiting frequently.

Jake still had to work, your mother insisted that he shouldn't be sacked for her own reasons. Although, Jake already knew that she only wanted to rub the reality that he wouldn't be picked over a Duke's son in his face.

Everyday he came over to do his duties on the garden, you'd still be there, but this time with a tall handsome man beside you with your arms linked with him.

You'd still be sat under the tree, but there would be a man beside you with his arm around your waist. He'd still see you in the greenhouse, but instead of gushing over the fruits you've planted recently to him, it would be towards Lee Heeseung now.

Despite all of that, he continued his work until the roses he was tending to were now healthy and beautiful again. His work was now done, he had no more reason to keep coming back on the estate's garden.

Today was his last day. Although the Earl disliked him a lot now, he was paid such high amount for his last paycheck.

Maybe this was their way on telling him to move on and never show his face to them again.

As he was bidding his farewell to the beautiful garden, he was startled by a voice calling out his name. The voice so soft and familiar, his heart beat increased immediately at the sound.

"My lady.. If they were to see me- if they were to witness you conversing with me.." he looked over your shoulder as he stuttered, his heart beating too fast for it to be healthy.

"Come along with me."

"But-"

"I order you." Jake's eyes widened before he nodded.

He followed you, looking over his shoulder in nervousness. He was glad to talk to you and be in your presence once more without the Duke's son beside you, despite the risk of being seen with you- he'd gladly take any consequences (not really) just so he could see you for maybe the last time ever.

You led him inside the greenhouse and when the door closed, you turned to face him. Your former stern face was now worried and in sorrow.

"In three days' time, they are to host my engagement ball with Lord Heeseung." Jake furrowed his brows, he didn't want to know any of this. He had hoped you ordered him to come with you to bid your farewell or throw him a hug.

"My lady, you are aware that it would be most unsuitable for you to extend an invitation to me." he whispered as if someone other than you would hear.

"I am aware, let me talk." he shut his mouth real quick.

"I have little affection for this marriage; I intend to escape on the day of my engagement party." Jake wanted to jump in the air and scream in joy when the words processed in his mind.

He held back and tilted his head, looking to his side. "I understand, my lady, but surely you recognize that it is impossible? With everyone in attendance at the party, there is no way..."

Your frustrated sigh made cut him off. He gulped, he could already see where this is leading, and he doesn't know whether he's up to it or not.

"That is where you come in," you say, stepping closer. "I beg for your help. I am sure.. you would like to, would you not?" his face softened as he felt the warmth of your hand upon his cheek.

He inhaled sharply, his hand coming on top of yours as he too stepped closer. "I do, trust me. However, do not expect success from me."

The nod you responded with filled him with warmth all over, and with his heart controlling him, he pressed his lips to yours. Your lips was what he expected it to feel, soft and warm against him as you both moved in sync. It was full of passion, love, and comfort.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands now on your waist.

"In three days time." he whispered.

"I shall wait for you." and just like he did a while ago, you pressed your lips against his once again.

Sunghoon stared at his friend as if he had grew two more heads. He was crouched down on the ground with Samuel (their small pig) who was drinking his water on a steel bowl beside him.

Meanwhile, Jongseong rested his dirty hands on his hips, looking at Jake with an amused expression.

"Allow me to reiterate your words," Jongseong said with amusement. "You wish for us to assist you in arranging Lady Y/N's escape in two days' time? How amusing." He scoffed and laughed.

Jake groaned, kicking the grass on his feet. "Do not jest! I am incredibly serious." he furrowed his brows.

"You can not be serious. And then what? She escapes and we face imprisonment? Are you listening to yourself, Jaeyun?" Sunghoon finally spoke, standing up from his position.

“I assure you, I am quite earnest in this matter,” Jake said with a gentle, resolute tone, his voice betraying his weariness at trying to persuade his friends. “I am relocating at her behest, and I would go to any lengths for her.”

He paused, casting a resigned glance at his friends. "Yesterday, we shared a kiss. Is that not sufficient evidence of my intent? Must I then demonstrate my affection before you in a more explicit manner?”

The three of them fell into a moment of silence. Sunghoon, visibly distressed, ran his fingers through his hair, while Jongseong, deep in thought, chewed his lip in quiet deliberation.

Sunghoon scratched his head aggressively before speaking. “Doesn’t your grandfather have a secluded cabin tucked away somewhere? You could take her there—no one would be able to find you.”

Jake looked up, his eyes lightening up before shaking his head.

“Yes, he does, but getting there requires a thirty-minute boat ride. Unfortunately, we no longer have a boat, which is why gramps no longer insists we live there.” he responded, obviously crestfallen.

Sunghoon looked down, muttering a small 'oh.'

Jongseong looked at both his companions, inhaling and looked at Jake straight in the eye. “Actually.. my late father had a boat. Mother no longer values it, so you could make use of it.”

Jake smiled widely, thanking both of his friends. Now all he had to do was tell his grandfather.. and make sure your escape would be successful.

To say that he was nervous was an understatement, he knew that the moment he utters the words "help" and "escape" his grandfather would deny immediately.

So here he was, eating supper across his grandfather who looked like he was getting chased down by a bear with how fast he was devouring his food.

"Whacha staring at for kid? Eat." the old man grumbled, pointing at his untouched plate.

Jake cleared his throat, “Gramps, the cabin you have—would it still be livable?”

His grandfather looked up from his plate, raising a brow. "'Course it is, I expect so. Left that ruddy cabin clean before I had to move here to take care of 'ya." the younger merely nodded.

The old man leaned back on his chair, exhaling. "What are you planning on, Jaeyun?" he asked, squinting his eyes at him.

"Lady Y/N requires my assistance in.. escaping her engagement ball in two days' time." Jake whispered, playing with the soup infront of him. He shut his eyes, ready for a lecture when he heard the seat of his grandfather moan against the floorboard.

Jake sighed in defeat. Even though he would have Jongseong's father's boat, he would not have the key to the cabin. It's not like he could keep the lady cold outside or in a middle of a river.

Before he could stand up and retreat to his room to come up with a new plan, his grandfather dragged a chair beside his and sat down. The older man's wrinkle filled hands dropped a key and an old photograph on the table.

“I admire your bravery, son. Had I been less cowardly, I would have done exactly as you have in the past.” he looked at his grandfather, who merely gestured towards the photograph.

Jake's nimble fingers took the old and worn out paper, staring directly at a woman who had a rose tucked in her ear. She looked oddly like the woman who has his heart in her hand, he thinks.

"That is Adelaide L/N. Lady Y/N's late grandmother." his grandfather whispered longingly, smiling slightly at the sight.

“What we had… was something society would not view in a favorable light. Thus, I let her go, despite her pleas for me to take her far away so we could live the life we desired together.” His grandfather sighed deeply. “I was overwhelmed by fear of scandal, and it overshadowed my love for her.”

"Gramps.."

“So, I will not tell you to stop. But I will urge you to be cautious. I have told you once, and I tell you again: I do not wish to receive my grandson’s head on a platter,” the old man said sternly, then patted his grandson’s shoulder and gave him a firm side hug.

Smiling gratefully at his grandfather, he leaned on to his side as he looked at the photograph still before taking the key.

Now all he had to do was take you away.

The day has finally come and so far it was going pleasantly, for your parents atleast. Everyone in the ballroom was dressed beautifully, congratulating you and Heeseung for your engagement. They were all convinced that you both were inlove, which was far from the truth.

You had been at it for hours, greeting guests and dancing. You had started to lose hope, maybe Jake realized that what you asked for was incredibly stupid and risky.

Just as you had fully lost all your hope, a sudden shout from outside took everyone's attention. It continued until everyone was now crowding over the entrance of the venue.

You gulped, it was now or never.

"Excuse me." you had tried to pry Heeseung's arm away from you, but he held on to you tightly. With furrowed brows, he looked down on you. "Where are you going? It is dangerous to go wandering around alone."

"I truly only wish to retire to the powder room."

"If you insist. Please, be careful." you only nodded as he finally let you go. You practically rushed to the comfort room, gathering your dress in your hands so that you would not trip.

Yesterday, you received a letter from Jake. Explaining what he had planned for today. You could nearly recite the whole letter if someone would ask you to for the many times you've reread the letter.

Dear Y/N,

Everything is set. I will not disclose in this letter what I have planned entirely in case this letter falls on the wrong hands. On the day of your engagement ball, my friends will create a disturbance outside the venue to draw attention away from you so that you could flee without anyone's watchful eyes. I understand your concerns, but please know I did not coerce them into this; they insisted, saying it was something they had long wished to do. Should this distraction fail, simply excuse yourself to the powder room, but enter the men's; there is a large window there through which I will be waiting. Once you are out, we will escape together to a place where no one will find us.

I know it is not yet appropriate to express such sentiments, but I must tell you in advance. If all fails, remember that my love for you is unwavering, I would give up my life for you if I had to. I am deeply grateful for your trust.

Yours forever,

SJY

Entering the men’s powder room, you felt a sense of relief when you found it empty; any unwanted company would have made the situation quite awkward.

Just as he said in the letter, there was a huge window and through it, you could see Jake who's worried eyes widened at the sight of you. You rushed towards the pane of glass, unlocking it and sliding it up.

Jake helped you climb over the window, and once your feet touched the ground the door of the powder room burst open. There stood Lee Heeseung, his brows furrowed as he looked between you and Jake.

Grabbing Jake's hand, you made a run for it as you both ignored Heeseung scream for you to come back.

You both continued to run, repeatedly tripping and looking over your shoulders every few seconds. The grip you had on each other was tight, no intentions on letting go.

Finally, you reached a huge lake and a figure waved you both over. “It’s all set up. You two should hurry; Sunghoon just got escorted out. The fool actually punched me in the face,” said the taller man, gesturing towards the boat and indicating his eye, which was beginning to swell with a bruise.

Jake nodded, patting the unfamiliar man's shoulder before guiding you to sit on the boat. He boarded with you and pushed the boat away with a canoe. Before the boat could go far, Jake spoke.

“Thank you so much, Jongseong, really. Please tell Sunghoon that I owe him my life!” he shouted, which earned a stern glare from Jongseong.

He merely sent a thumbs up at his friend and a salute to you before running away to avoid getting you two caught.

Jake now faced you, a smile on his face.

“I scarcely believed you would truly follow through.” you whispered, bringing your knees closer to your chest. The boy across you chuckled, biting his lip, overwhelmed with nerves and joy.

“I told you, I would do anything for you. Even if its the last thing I’d ever do."

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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year

Text

White lies [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k

summary: you meet Spencer thanks to a nice coincidence and you become recurring chess partners, but he leaves out a small detail

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

Spencer had come back to that park after a long time and, honestly, it was as quiet as he remembered it. He liked to sit there to read, watch the birds, listen to the trees hitting each other; just enjoy a moment of life. Matthew, a teenager he used to play chess with, sometimes kept him company, but he knew from his mother that he had sprained his ankle and could barely get out of his room, so those evenings it was just him and a couple of old men in a remote section of his favorite hangout.

The book he had in hand could have finished in less than ten minutes if he had wanted to, but it was one he had a particular interest in and so he was taking notes in a notebook by his side, lengthening his reading time. And besides, he had proposed to take things a little more calmly since the recovery of his leg, now that he could walk by himself, and that seemed to him a quite useful exercise.

The man was dimly aware that someone was sitting at the table next to his, but curiosity was not enough to force him to look away from the pages. It wasn't until after a while that he heard the characteristic sound of the chess pieces moving in the box that formed the board that he paid attention and noticed that the one who was settling there was a woman.

He tried not to look at you too much so as not to make you uncomfortable, but the quick scan he gave you only led him to the conclusion that you might be a college student and that you were very pretty. You were carefully arranging the pieces and once you finished, you looked around the whole park as if you were looking for something or someone, and then you took a pack of chocolates from your backpack and put it to the side of the board, somewhat disappointed that you hadn't found who you expected.

"Are you waiting for Matthew?" Spencer dared to ask. You were startled and had to ask him to repeat the question, a little afraid that a stranger had made such a pointed remark "I've seen him a couple of times eating those sweets and since he likes chess, I thought you were expecting him"

"Oh, you know him" you exclaimed, a little calmer. You were surprised by how observant the man had been, for a couple of random pieces of information had led him to the correct conclusion "I was his babysitter for a while and I ran into his mother the other day and she said he comes here in the evenings so I thought I'd come to see him”

“Too bad, he has a sprained ankle,” he informed you, with a sad grin. “Maybe he'll be back in a week or two. I'm Spencer, by the way."

"Y/N" you introduced yourself, shaking the hand the man was offering you "So you guys are friends?"

"Sometimes I play with him"

"Huh yeah?"

"Yeah. He is very good"

“I taught him,” you said, quite proud of yourself, “I hated when he asked to watch TV, and I brought all kinds of board games over to his house, until finally chess captivated him. In those years he participated in school contests so I was excited to play with him "

“Did you win some?”

“I was undefeated” you exclaimed, even more proud of yourself and smiling wistfully “But after a few years I gave it up. Matthew continued, so I thought it would be nice to dust myself off a bit,” you smiled.

You took a moment to look at the man, who might be only a few years older than you, and like him you were somewhat captivated. His long, wavy, golden hair gleamed in the sun and he seemed to wear clothes that were, if not expensive, then at least quite elegant. You looked at the stack of books and the notes scattered on the table with great interest, because frankly the only men who met all those characteristics used to be your grandfather's age and, although their talks were interesting, you couldn't get to think of them with anything more than tenderness. This person was different, almost like a sage out of a book.

You didn't know where you found the words to invite him to play with you and you didn't know why he agreed. He seemed busy when you arrived, which made you think that he might even be a teacher, but he stopped his activities to pay attention to you and that made you feel special.

"You like them? You can take some if you want. They were for Matty, but I'll buy him some more,” you said kindly, referring to the candies between you, to which Spencer nodded with a smile. You used to play with strangers all the time in that park, so you didn't think it was weird, but never one as handsome as the guy in front of you. You probably wouldn't even have dared to talk to him if he hadn't talked to you “White or black?”

“Black,” Spencer replied. You thought that maybe he was just being chivalrous to you by letting you move first, but you were also overconfident in your abilities and thought that he might feel bad if you turned out to be better.

"I'm not very good, I have to admit" you blatantly lied.

"Relax, I'm not either" he also lied. But neither of you could notice it.

The way Spencer saw the situation, he had two options: the first, demonstrate his extraordinary intelligence by beating you with a couple of moves, or the second, which was to turn off his brain for a while to give yourself a chance and lengthen the game a bit. He knew that, if he took the first option, you would most likely just smile and flatter him like everyone else did, or you might even ask him how he had done that. But Spencer was sick of being treated like a genius, despite being one, and having that label branded in his mind every place he went. He loved to learn, teach and know as much as he could on all subjects and he wasn't one bit ashamed of the abilities his mother gave him at birth, but his short experience with women led him to deduce that he had a better chance of continuing to talk to you throughout the afternoon if he would just play a little silly and pretend not to know what he was doing. And he definitely wanted to be with you that day.

It had been a while, and at some point, you moved a bishop.

Check in 4 moves if Spencer moved the rook.

He moved a pawn, you took the pawn.

Bishop takes the pawn and check in 10 moves.

He moved the knight. You moved your queen

Rook takes queen then checkmate in 5 moves.

But Spencer ignored any of the logical options his brain was giving him. He was moving pieces wrong on purpose and moving another pair well just so he could enjoy your face of concentration and victorious smiles when you made a smart move that he could have foreseen from the start of the game. He analyzed your game, you attacked hard at first, you were impulsive, but at some point you changed your modus operandi to a more calculating and strategic one, your eyebrows gave you away when you were going to make an important play.

"Check" you muttered at some point. Spencer knew how to beat you, but, I repeat, he moved badly on purpose "And that's mate"

"Oh really?" he said, pretending to be puzzled.

"Yes, you left the way clear for my bishop" you explained, with a kind tone but also somewhat condescending. It didn't seem like you wanted to make fun of him, but rather you were looking for a way to make him see his mistake, without knowing that your companion knew exactly what he had done wrong.

"Oh, it's true"

"Either way it's fine, you played excellent" you exclaimed to comfort him, while you offered him a piece of candy and smiled broadly. Spencer looked at his phone, expecting to see a message from JJ saying there was a case to attend to, but he found nothing.

"A rematch?" he said, trying his luck, to which you answered yes quite happily.

Spencer won that game and it was inevitable for both of you to wish for another game just for the tiebreaker, with you crowning yourself the winner of the evening. Between movements you took the opportunity to look at him and you would lie when you said that your cheeks didn’t feel hot from being in the presence of such a peculiar specimen. Most of the men around you behaved like cavemen, so being with someone that civilized was most pleasant.

“I have to go home, it's getting dark already,” you said, quite sad, after that third game. The candy had already run out and Spencer's book had been forgotten to the side, but you still didn't want to walk away with just the memory of those hazel eyes “But if you're ever around again, we could play… if you want."

"I'd love to" he replied, sounding quite sincere.

Would it be too daring to ask for his number? What if it had just been a nice time that arose from a coincidence? You didn't want to spoil it, or scare him away, or anything like that.

You only said goodbye saying that you hoped to see him again and he said the same thing before the two of you went off on your own, fearing you would never see each other again.

After a few days you went back to the park hoping to meet him, but you were disappointed to see the empty spot. The process was repeated a couple of times and although you were carrying books to spend the afternoon, the chess board could never be missing from your bag, keeping the hope of finding him again. Time wasn't wasted after all, as you took the opportunity to continue your schoolwork outdoors, but it saddened you to think that you probably wouldn't see Spencer again, going so far as to regret not finding a way to contact him. But whoever perseveres, reaches, and you verified it when one afternoon you finally found him sitting at the same table as the first time.

“Spencer! What a joy to see you here” you greeted him casually, as if you hadn't been going to the park repeatedly just hoping to find him.

The man apologized to you saying that his work had kept him so busy that he hadn't even had time to stop by and when you asked what he did for a living you were met with an ambiguous answer that he held a position in a government office. Not a complete lie, but not the truth either.

That's how you kept finding him around to play with him, until at some point you barely paid attention to the board to give priority to the chat. Every time you saw each other you thought, without the slightest idea of the truth, that Spencer had been practicing to improve, because sometimes out of five games you only won two. But other days you might have a perfect streak that, while it made you feel happy, allowed you to comfort your friend a little.

You had started carrying different snacks to at some point find out which one was his favorite, which turned out to be the trail mix and, truth be told, it was something you expected, as if it fit perfectly with his personality. That's how you started carrying a pack of those whenever you could, alternating it with other kinds of more substantial snacks that Spencer loved.

So it was that, during the nearly two months that Matthew was unable to go to the park, you and Spencer kept each other company. You learned that he was an avid reader that, according to your first impression of him, he had taught a few classes, that he lived alone, loved classical music, was a big fan of science fiction and science in general, in short, he was a bit of a nerd. He was always telling you interesting facts that you couldn't even have imagined and you always listened very carefully.

One day you were concentrating on your next move when his voice interrupted you. It was a very beautiful afternoon and you had decided to put on light clothes that fluttered in the wind.

“I forgot to tell you. I brought you a book” was what he had said and from his brown leather briefcase he extracted a book with a faded cover that he handed over to you with great care.

“Sylvia Plath?” you exclaimed with total emotion. You had talked about the interest you had in starting to read it in one of the last meetings, because considering Spencer a connoisseur of literature, he would probably know which book to start with "Where did you get it?"

"It was from my mother, but she won't mind if you read it"

You carefully caressed the back with your fingertips with the biggest smile on your face, feeling flushed at the obvious show of attention you were receiving.

"Thank you so much"

"It's no big deal"

"I'll give it back to you soon"

"Take the time you need" he exclaimed sweetly. He was wearing a gray knit vest and a black dot-patterned formal shirt, along with a brown tie. His hair framed his face and looked so soft it made you want to reach out and just stroke it. You had been so stunned watching him, wondering if he was a real man or not, until he reminded you that it was your turn.

You moved your queen. Check in 7 moves.

"Spencer, can I confess something to you?"

He moved his bishop. He is saved from check.

"Huh, yeah"

“These last few weeks I have had a lot of fun. I really like being with you”

He looked at you for a second, as if he was waiting for a but that never came. There was no but you just liked being with him. Reid didn't usually find many people who would enjoy his company without a work commitment involved and that you had said something like that made him feel a warmth in his heart that he couldn't describe.

"I just wanted to tell you that, no... I hope I wasn't weird"

"I like being with you, too," he exclaimed immediately, hoping you didn't get the wrong idea. "It's probably the most normal and quiet thing that happens during my week."

“You've never told me what you do at work, is it paperwork and stuff? Bureaucratic processes?

“Something like that” he lied “Most of the time it's stressful and very tiring. That's why I like coming here, with you, because it helps me relax. I used to play with a very dear friend, but I took a break because… I didn't feel like going back to it. But I have to admit that you are a wonderful player."

"I hope so. Because I'm about to beat you” you smiled, moving another piece and putting the game in check again. Spencer always knew that he had to move to win, but again he made enough mistakes to get beaten by you. Once this happened, he took his king and handed it to you with a small smile, allowing your hands to touch.

It was already getting a bit dark and that was the signal for both of you to come home.

"You won 3 out of 4," he informed you, more cheerful than he was supposed to be. "Rematch tomorrow?"

“Of course”

One of you always asked that and in the same way the other always answered yes. Come to think of it, it was pretty funny that when you lost the next afternoon you won and vice versa, allowing the promise of a rematch to always hold.

"Do you live far from here?"

You knew, of course, that there was another question implicit in it. He not only wanted to know how far away your apartment was, but he wanted to know if he could walk you there. You'd never thought of the two of you hanging out outside of your afternoon game sessions, so you told him it was about a fifteen-minute walk away, and he naturally offered to walk you there.

"You're not a serial killer or anything like that, are you?" you joked, although a part of you said it to watch his reaction and detect (if possible) any sign of a lie.

“I'm not, but it's quite right that you doubt me,” he replied, as he packed his things into his briefcase, smiling slightly as if he hadn't been offended but rather admired by a good question “From any man, really, because the largest number of serial killers is concentrated in the United States and 95% of murderers worldwide are… well, men. Possibly this is due to the levels of testosterone and the social implications of masculinity that exist, this isn’t counting the traumas that they may have developed during their lives. Speaking specifically of men with psychopathy, most of them are able to manipulate their chosen victims to gain their trust before harming them. Many murderers have been described as charming, an example of this is Ted Bundy, who even when he was arrested many women attended the trials with banners and self-declared his fans. A few years ago there was even a killer here in Virginia who would date young women and then kill them, because it was easier for him not to resist, but luckily he only took the lives of 3 women before he was caught”

Spencer wasn't even aware of the changes in expressions on your face until he looked at you, completely serious and doe-eyed.

"Should I be worried about the fact that you listed reasons why I shouldn't let you accompany me?"

“Oh no, no” he had probably scared you and it made him feel so sorry and silly “I just… like to read about it, I promise. In addition, I have a degree in psychology, sometimes we analyzed the profile of the murderers to understand their psyche. But if you don't want me to come with you, that's fine."

"I'll take the risk"

"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry"

"You didn’t do it. It just wasn't such a convincing defense” you carefully reached out to grab his arm and encourage him to walk beside you, flashing him a sweet smile.

Spencer, still feeling guilty for having rambled on about psychopaths, walked by your side for a while, and until you started talking his mood improved. A lot of times your talks didn't have to do with anything scientific and focused more on pop culture stuff that Spencer was completely unaware of. But you never teased him, but little by little you started to explain to him the plot of different movies or celebrity gossip of the moment, which was very funny for him. Your vibrant personality had him completely fascinated.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you said once you got to your building. They were nice condos that Spencer had seen before.

"If something unforeseen does not arise, yes"

"Thanks for joining me. And for not being a murderer too” you laughed, still in a joking mood, while he looked at the ground a little embarrassed.

"Your lack of confidence hurts me"

"Admit that it's your fault, Doctor Reid" taking advantage of the artificial height difference that standing a few steps higher than him gave you, you leaned over to hug him goodbye and he sighed deeply as he felt the softness of your body against his "I hope you're well. Rest"

"Bye," he breathed out softly, entranced by the sight of your kind eyes looking directly at him.

He went home wishing with all his might that the job in the unit would allow him to meet you, but unfortunately it didn't, and since the two of you still hadn't thought of exchanging numbers he didn't find a way to apologize to you. He went to the park for several days in a row, but he couldn't find you anywhere and he was afraid that you wouldn't want to see him again. Had he done something wrong? Had you really believed that he could be a criminal? He probably explained to you what FBI unit he worked for and all that weird stuff he was telling you would have started to make sense.

He had already given up hope just the day you were practically running to the park, your chessboard bouncing through your bag and your breathing heavy as a sign of your poor physical condition.

You expected him to be there even with your repeated absences and when you finally arrived you noticed that around your usual table was a small group of people. You didn't know what it could be so you decided to go look too and you were surprised to discover Matty, whom it was the first time you'd seen in months, playing with nothing more and nothing less than your game partner.

You knew Matty enjoyed playing fast chess, so a clock was sitting next to both of them, and Spencer seemed to be playing better than he ever had in his life. His eyes lasted a second to scan the positions of the pieces and another to move his own, without needing to make any effort to plan the right move.

Everyone around was impressed by the skill of the teenager and the man who, according to your deductions, had not played more than 15f minutes. After a couple more minutes Spencer smiled broadly and declared that the younger one was checkmated, drawing Matthew's complaint and collective applause for the feat.

"The boy is good, but not as good as him" an old man informed you, who apparently knew the development of these games very well.

Spencer enjoyed the cheers rather modestly for a moment, but when he caught sight of you watching him from the crowd he went completely pale.

"Hello," he hurried to greet you, getting up from his seat to approach you and causing the fan group to break up "You came."

"Yeah, I've been kind of busy with college," you sincerely apologized, letting him envelop you in a hug that took you by surprise.

"I'm glad to see you"

"But what was all that about, by the way?"

"What was what?"

"Y/N!" said Matty, rushing over to greet you. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Yeah, I would say that" you clearly noticed the young man's intention to ask the story of that, but as soon as he opened his mouth you said something else: "But will you allow me to talk to him for a second? It's adult talk," you joked, trying to tease your little friend, and then walked a few steps away, taking Spencer with you. "Do you want to explain to me how you became a chess master during my three-day absence?"

"I don't... I don't know what you're talking about"

"I saw that! You beat him so fast and Matt is very good. Have you been letting me win all this time?” you asked with a frown. You didn't sound annoyed with him, but rather surprised, and when he pursed his lips and looked at you with those sad little eyes, you knew you were right “You were lying to me! Why did you do that?”

"I didn’t want to make you feel bad"

“I'm an adult, I can handle failure” you argued. A lie, but he didn't have to know that.

“It's just that you… you looked so happy winning and I was happy to spend time with you and I figured if I played like that you'd start to get bored or think I'm a show-off. You didn't want to make a bad impression."

He had been cheating on you, yes, but now that he had explained his reasons, you thought they were really cute. Although you didn't like being treated with that kind of condescension, it would honestly have been foolish to bother you about something like that. They were just friendly games of chess, not a world championship.

"So all this time you were this clever?" you asked and he nodded sheepishly “And you still managed to lose?”

“It's easy once you get the hang of it. If you know all the possible outcomes then you also know where you shouldn't move your pieces."

"I must have looked so stupid all this time"

"No, it's not like that" he hastened to say, while one of his hands went up to your elbow and gently held it "I didn't behave like that because I think you're stupid. I think you're very smart, actually."

"So you were just pretending so we could see each other in the evenings?"

No one had ever done that for you and now you weren't even offended by it anymore, you were, how shall I put it? Touched, perhaps.

"I thought if we didn't play chess there would be no other excuse for it"

A giggle escaped your lips and although at first he thought you were mocking, the truth was the opposite.

“You don't need to do that for us to be together, I could come to the park and just talk to you. I already told you, I like being with you” you clarified.

You two were silent for a moment and although you were calm Spencer was fiddling with his hands, apparently uncomfortable.

"There's also something else I didn't tell you" you widened your eyes slightly, waiting for him to continue "Actually, I do work for the government, but I work for the FBI in the behavioral analysis unit, that's why sometimes I disappear for so many days or…"

"That's why you know so much murder data" you hastened to say. Suddenly everything clicked together, like pieces in a puzzle "You're not a murderer, you catch murderers!”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want to scare you."

"Oh, and it was more convenient to let me think you're a psycho," you said sarcastically and only received another amused and sorry look "Any other secrets you want to share with me, Agent Reid?"

“At the moment I only have that. But the afternoon is young, more things can come up with the passing of the hours”

You both laughed at the joke and Matthew's voice calling you snapped you out of your conversation. The teen demanded an explanation as to why his playmate and former babysitter seemed so trusting of each other, which Spencer probably hadn't explained to him yet.

"I just want to ask you one thing"

"And what is?"

“Play a real game with me. No cheating, no tricks"

"Rematch?" he said, as was already your tradition, and you smiled widely.

You walked back to the table taking his arm and after summarizing a few months of history to Matthew the two of you finally got to play. Spencer beat you in less than 5 minutes, but the satisfaction you felt finding out that he was so smart, as well as handsome, was completely worth your loss.

You only managed to beat him after half a year, because from that moment on Spencer was so distracted by your face that it was hard for him to concentrate on the plays. And when you became his girlfriend, all you had to do was steal a few kisses from him to ensure your victory, which, honestly, didn't bother him in the least.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff

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