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starrystevie · 7 months

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18+ | modern office steddie au | cw: public sex, undernegotiated kinks, unsafe sex | crossposted to ao3 here

eddie doesn't do it often. okay, maybe that's a stretch. frequently might be a better word for it, more accurate. but he wouldn't say he does it everyday or anything. it's just a little break from the day, an escape from the monotony of corporate america.

he's only been in this new tech support job for a few months but he's already comfortable enough that working on his next novel at his desk doesn't give him anxiety anymore. he isn't afraid someone is looking over his shoulder all the time like he did when he first started with the company.

the thing is, eddie's good at tech. he's good at finding the problems, finding even better solutions. half the time all he's doing is updating and restarting people's equipment that hasn't been refreshed in years. so he finds himself with enough free time at his desk to work on the second installment of his fantasy novel when the problems seem to be at a low.

as he waits for his laptop to boot up, eddie cracks his knuckles and grabs his phone to send a text to his editor that may or may not also happen to be his best friend so he could cut back on over exuberant editing fees. he doesn't read the message over, just fires out a text to nancy quickly before pocketing his phone.

he only realizes the typo once he gets a laughing emoji in return and cackles at what he actually sent.

"getting ready to write some smut on the cock!!!!!"

it doesn't take long to send a winky face before correcting himself to say " on the clock obviously", before pocketing his phone and opening the document where his novel is. just as eddie is about to start typing, a voice behind him makes him jump out of his skin.

"what was so funny?" steve asks, arm propped on the top of his flimsy cubicle wall, legs crossed over one another, smirk on his face.

eddie forces himself not to swoon. he takes in the way his white button up stretches across his chest, dress pants oh so snug over his thighs, hair pushed back in the way that only steve harrington could pull off. he may have only been at the office for a few months, but ever since he first saw him, steve very quickly became the only thing eddie could think about.

"i'm sure you wouldn't find it funny," he starts, tilting his laptop screen halfway shut so steve can't catch him doing his other job, his favorite job, while at work.

steve smirks again, his cheek lifting enough to crinkle his eye. "try me, munson."

with a dramatic push, eddie rolls in his wheely chair and stands up so he can keep his voice low. "i sent my editor a dirty text on accident."

if steve's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"editor, hmm? for what?" his voice is as low as eddie's and it makes the cubicle feel even smaller than it is. like everything in the world has zeroed in on their whispers to each other.

"i might be writing a book. well, technically i've already written a book. this is just the sequel."

steve's eyes flick from eddie to his laptop and then back once more. "is it anything i'd know?"

he cackles again, picturing steve reading his smutty fantasy novel, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to make any sense out of the haphazard world map eddie drew for the back page. but then again, he could easily picture steve in the world he made. he'd be a prince- no, scratch that, an elven prince- just like the one he's writing about in this one.

"i do read, you know. i'm not entirely up to date with everything but i do like books." steve says it like he's almost hurt and it makes eddie look back up at him, mellowing out his wide grin into a softer smile.

"oh, i wasn't doubting that. i just doubt you read elf porn in your free time."

whatever hurt was lacing through steve's face is gone, replaced with wide eyes and eyebrows to his hairline and a bright smile pulling at his cheeks.

"yeah," he says a little breathless, "yeah, definitely not the first thing i'd reach for."

eddie gives him a told-you-so head nod and brings a hand up to run through his hair, tracking steve's eyes as he follows the motion for a moment. having his eyes on him rushes through eddie like a wave crashing and he's halfway tempted to do it again if he didn't think it would look forced.

"well you probably don't know mine then."

as he turns to go back to his chair, he hears steve cough to get his attention back, arms crossed over his chest to make his shirt pull taut over his beautiful, gorgeous, annoyingly perfect biceps. "so what was the dirty text?"

"well, it was actually a typo," eddie starts, cocking his head to the side with a smirk as he pulls out his phone, "so an unintentional dirty text. but still funny, none the less. and i don't think i can say it out loud without getting hr called on my ass so-"

he holds up his phone so steve can see the brief conversation between him and nancy, watches his eyebrows shoot back up to his hairline, watches as his mouth drops open for a millisecond before giving eddie another goddamn smirk. steve leans back, drops his arms to put a hand on his hip, and looks eddie less than subtly up and down.

"so... do you want to?"

eddie can feel the moment his heart stutters in his chest. a combination of steve's general... steveness plus the implication of what the text said and his mind travels to a dirty, dirty, not meant for work place until he pieces it somewhat together and asks-

"...are you asking if i'm gay?"

steve huffs out a laugh and takes a step further into eddie's cubicle. there already isn't much room and with him coming in the tiniest bit closer, their toes are almost touching.

"sure," he says like it's the easiest thing to say on a thursday afternoon. "it can be a two-part question if you want."

a few things run through eddie's head all at the same time:

steve's close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off of the arm he now has resting on his desk, and he's really about to come out to a coworker which he normally leaves for at least 6 months into a new job, and that he thinks he's going to pass out if steve is actually asking what he thinks he's asking.

do you want to write smut while you're on my cock?

he doesn't know where he finds the courage, honestly. call it a slow thursday, call it a little extra motivation for his novel. eddie scoots closer and throws caution to the wind.

"then yes to both."

he's never seen steve's office. he's been to the top floors before when some higher up needed him to install a web browser on his new desktop so he has kind of an idea of what the private offices look like.

eddie didn't expect the first time that he got to see steve's office would be spread out, bent over his desk with his novel pulled up on his laptop while steve runs his hands over his ass.

"here's how this is going to work," steve whispers close to his ear while he lays against his back, snaking a hand up to undo the knot of eddie's messy tie, popping open a button on his dress shirt in the process. "you stop writing, i stop fucking you."

with a hum, eddie presses his hips back, up on his tiptoes with his off brand dress shoes pinching his feet tightly. "i think i can manage that."

"i'm not finished," he bites gently at eddie's ear lobe, returning his hands to palm over his ass cheeks. "everything i do to you, and i mean everything, needs to be written down. turn me into a character or something, i don't care, but i expect you to be thorough."

he doesn't mean to moan at the instructions, really he doesn't, but it's so easy to picture steve morphing into a character in his world. his mind races trying to figure out how exactly to write him into the scene that had already started, but with a snap of his fingers as the idea clicks, he writes out a quick line and looks at steve over his shoulder for approval.

"who's sylvar?" steve asks, pronunciation clunky on his tongue.

"sylvar is an elven prince, might as well make you him. besides, you both have an s name."

steve chuckles, his breath ruffling eddie's hair. "okay, fair. prince, huh?"

he doesn't have to look over his shoulder again to know that steve's smirking so he rolls his eyes and finishes the sentence, only breaking away to gasp as steve brings his hand between his thighs to spread them further apart.

"i'm gonna take a wild guess and say that elidyr is supposed to be you?"

eddie nods and pulls his tie off the rest of the way. "let's see, he's one of the prince's newest attendants, known for being a bit out of control, gets chastised for staring at the prince's ass in his khakis too much-"

"you're making that one up, huh?"

he tosses his tie to the side and brings a hand up to tangle in steve's hair, pulling his lips down to his neck and waiting for him to get the hint and start kissing. "steve, i'm making all of it up. that's the way writing a book goes."

"is that so?" he murmurs playfully against his neck, teeth pressing against the skin as he smiles, hands yanking on his hips to get eddie flush against his cock. "...i don't see you writing."

eddie huffs and shakes his head before writing out quickly how sylvar grabbed elidyr by the hips roughly to show him how excited he was. steve takes the typing as the go ahead and quickly undoes both of their pants before running his hands up eddie's now bare thighs.

he didn't really have any idea of how well he'd be able to hold out to steve's ministrations while having to write them out at the same time, but any confidence he had in himself leaves when steve's palm cups his cock through his briefs. eddie cants his hips forward and brings his hand back up to tangle once more in steve's hair.

and just like that, the touch is gone.

"oh, come on!" eddie whines and brings his hands back to the keyboard, typing in random filler words until suddenly he has no underwear and hands pulling his ass cheeks apart.

"gonna fucking take you apart... shit," steve whispers and eddie doesn't think he was supposed to hear it, but he writes it into the scene anyway.

there's a cool dribble of what must be lube on his hole and he fights against the shiver it sends up his spine. "you have lube in your office?"

"no, i have lube in my briefcase. big difference."

eddie doesn't really see how to the two are different, but he laughs to appease steve before getting cut short as a finger starts to enter him. he must whine, must jerk or do something wrong because it's leaving almost as soon as it had arrived.

"steve, i swear to god," eddie groans, head dropping down as he types without looking. poor nancy is going to have a hell of time reading and editing over this draft.

they both sigh when the finger presses into him once more and steve weaves his other hand into eddie's hair to pull him up and look at his screen. "there you go, just keep typing. write about how good it feels."

and shit. that's hotter than he expected it to be.

it goes well for all of a few minutes, eddie typing and steve reading over his shoulder, scissoring his fingers to get him nice and wet and open. they both somehow manage to keep their composure, filthy words being muttered out loud that then end up on the screen.

it's after steve gets him cock in him that it all goes down hill.

"oh fuck-" eddie moans as his leg gets hoisted up for a better angle. steve's grip on his hip is brutal, bound to be leaving bruises, as he pulls eddie back to meet him in the middle.

his chest is rubbing against the pleather desk cover, nipples catching on just the right side of painful when steve pushes his shirt up and out of the way. his dick is flopping against his thigh with every thrust, the lack of friction driving him insane.

he swears he only takes his hands away from the laptop for a second but then steve's pulling out quickly, dropping his leg and getting eddie off balance. he whines like he's throwing a temper tantrum before bringing his fingers back up to type more nonsense, gasping when steve slides back in like no time has passed.

"read it," he huffs next to his ear, "tell me how perfect you make fucking me sound."

"oh my god," eddie croaks, eyes rolling back as steve lets go of his hip once more to pull his head upright. "sylvar fucks wi-without abandon, hitting every right spot possible inside elidyr, the heat of his h-heavy cock punishing him making him mad with lust."

"good, yeah that's good. like when i fuck you hard?" steve grunts out before pistoning his hips even faster, eddie's moans bouncing off the bare office walls. "tell me more, keep going baby."

"the grip he uses to hold onto elidyr's hair is the only thing keeping him upright. this is all he could want, tending to the prince's every desire, being whatever the prince wants him to be." eddie expects it when the fingers in his hair curl even tighter, his back bowing against the desk with the pressure, but he still keens loudly at the pull.

steve chuckles roughly, like he's barely holding on himself, hips stuttering before evening out. "is that what you want?"

"wha-" eddie murmurs, not trusting his voice much more than that, his brain turning into mush. "is what what i want?"

"want to tend to my desires, want to be for me to use however i please?"

and the thing is, realistically, eddie knows this whole thing is weird, blending his two worlds together in a way he's never done before, but it doesn't stop him from forgoing the rules and bringing a hand down to work over his cock. "god, don't stop. please, please, please..."

steve must be tired of the game, too, because he doesn't even attempt to quit what they're doing to punish eddie as he stops writing. he barely has time to appreciate that the game is finally over because the hand in his hair slides around to rest gently around eddie's throat, pulling him up so his back is to steve's chest, every thrust punching out another gasping breath.

"answer the question," he says, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips. "gonna let me use you how i want?"

eddie has died and gone to heaven and the cause of death is a mixture of steve's tongue, hands, and cock. his mind wanders to what else they could do together, what else he'd let steve do, what else he wants steve to do. he sends up a quick thank you to whoever is listening that he saw the job posting for this company so he could be here in this moment with a possible sex god in his midst.

the hand that he had braced on the desk for support makes its way up to cover steve's on his throat, a barely there pressure combined with his quick fingers on his cock that sends him over the edge.

he breathes out a "yes" as he shoots come across the stop of steve's desk and see stars dancing in his eyes. steve fucks him through it, whispers filth of what he wants to do to eddie right into his ear, and when he comes back to himself, he digs his nails in the top of steve's hand.

"want it, want you, however you want me-" he chokes out.

and when steve finally comes inside of him, eddie makes sure he bends back down with his cock still pounding into him to write some line about how nice elidyr thinks it feels to filled up from someone who probably shouldn't be giving him the time of day. he tries not to find parallels as steve kisses up the back of his neck as he rocks his hips for the final time.

eddie's bare ass is in a mixture of their come as they maneuver him around to let him sit up and wrap his legs around steve's hips, pulling their spent cocks together while they lazily make out. steve's hands dance softly over his bare thighs, eddie threads his fingers through steve's hair.

"how does it end?" steve whispers against his lips.

"i don't know yet," eddie says truthfully, his mind wandering as kisses start to trail down his jawline. "how do you want it to end?"

"i don't suppose they have bars in this elf world, do they? one where they can go on an actual date to before going back to the palace or whatever to ravage each other?"

eddie grins, tipping his head back to catch steve's lips one more time in a slow kiss. "i can arrange for them to go to the tavern. i think they'd both like that."

the next morning, slightly hungover and draped over each other in steve's way too large bed, eddie ignores a text from nancy asking why the names change halfway through the draft and wondering who the fuck steve is. eddie silences his phone and goes back to sleep, so glad that he didn't double check his first message yesterday for typos.

#HI this got long so i will be posting it to ao3 #shoutout to mickala and alice for turning me into this monster #pls excuse any and all typos because i wrote this at work and just want to go home #steddie #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie smut #modern steddie #steddie au

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hanniedream · 24 days

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Hi there, i was thinking “will you please just come back to bed?” with Cheol? I can only picture his big brown eyes staring back at you while saying that 🥺

cheol and his big, wet, brown, baby cow eyes will be the death of us all!

seungcheol flips his body over then jumps up from bed when his hand touches the cold sheets instead of you.

"is it 6am already?" he thinks as he unlocks his phone, squinting at his bright screen to see that it's almost 2am. he clearly remembers you coming to bed with him and him holding you tightly in his arms just a few hours before but now your side of the bed is empty.

he staggers out of the bedroom with his messy bed head and groggy eyes to search for you and finds you sitting in front of your laptop with only a small desk lamp lighting up the corner of the office. there's paper scattered all over the table and you're so focused on the screen that you don't even notice him standing at the door.

"why aren't you in bed?" you jump at the sound of his raspy voice.

"i just need to make sure i have everything ready for the presentation tomorrow," you quickly type something on your keyboard, not sparing him even a glance.

"it's already 2am, you have to be up in 4 hours." he nags and you don't even have to look at him to know there's a pout on his lips. "will you please just come back to bed?"

"i know cheol, but this is important. i have to make sure i'm prepared." you keep typing away, "i'll go to bed in a bit."

he walks towards you and the sound of his bedroom slippers dragging across the wooden floor fills the room. he stops when he reaches the table, "how can you be focused at work if you don't get enough sleep."

"i'll be done soon, i promise."

he continues standing there, sulking with his arms folded across his broad chest, watching you work.

"go back to sleep, cheol." you tell him, "i can't concentrate with you staring at me."

"good," he leans down until his face is right above your screen and he's looking at you through his long lashes with his big brown eyes. "then you can stop working and come back to bed."

you laugh at his childish antics then sighs dramatically, "if i don't do well on this one i might lose my job."

"that's fine. i think i make enough to support you anyway." he pushes your screen down until your laptop closes, "and you already know my money is yours."

you throw a playful, flirty look his way, "are you saying you want to be my sugar daddy?"

"if that's what you want to call it," he shrugs nonchalantly but there's a clear smirk on his lips.

"i'm not going to live off you," opening your laptop up again with a chuckle and a shake of your head. "i don't want to be a freeloader."

he moves behind you. "you won't be a freeloader," wrapping his strong arms around you and resting his chin on the top of your head. "your job will be to stand next to me and look pretty and you're already doing a pretty damn good job at it."

you spin around to give him a smack, "that's not a real job and you know it."

he laughs as he rubs at the spot on his arm you just hit, "it is in my book. my hr will be in contact with you."

#seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen drabbles #svt drabbles #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seungcheol fic #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol drabbles #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #svt x you #svt x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x reader

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the-offside-rule · 3 months

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Drivers while their s/o studies

Just a mini series I felt like doing. : )

Charles Leclerc

Charles smiled as he entered the room, holding a tray with snacks and coffee for Y/n who had been sitting at her desk since that morning. "Hello mom cœur, I thought you might need a little pick-me-up while you work." He said, placing the tray on the table. Y/n looked up from her laptop, a grateful smile forming. "Oh what would I do without you?" She said as she held his face and peppered soft kisses onto it as he emptied the tray onto the desk. "Cry, maybe." He joked.

Charles sat down beside her and began eating a protein bar before Y/n continued on typing. "How's it going anyway?" he asked, genuinely interested. "It's a bit overwhelming, but I'll manage. Your snacks will definitely help." She replied, taking a sip of the coffee. Charles chuckled. "I believe in you. I'll leave you to it for a bit, though. I'm going to meet Lorenzo and Arthur in the gym. You know how it is."

Y/n nodde. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be here when you get back." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before heading out. "Take breaks, okay? Don't overwork yourself." He reminded her. "Of course, love. Have fun and give them my best!" As he left, Y/n couldn't help but smile. The small gestures made studying a lot more enjoyable, and she felt lucky to have Charles by her side.

Max Verstappen

Max woke up to an empty bed, the confusion evident on his face. Rubbing his eyes, he ventured into the living room, where he found Y/n engrossed in her laptop. Y/n spotted him from the corner of her eye and smiled at his sleepy face. "Morning, sleepyhead. Slept well?" She teased, looking up from her work. Max chuckled, and walked over to her. "Yeah, until I realized I was all alone." He placed a kiss atop of her head and peered over her shoulder. "What are you up to?"

"Got an assignment to finish, but you can keep me company." She suggested with a smile. Max raised an eyebrow. "Company? I was expecting a romantic morning, not a work session." Y/n laughed, "Well, I can't help it. University." He rolled his eyes. "I told you, you should have just gave in to being a stay-at-home girlfriend and now here we are with you leaving me I'm bed to work." Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke. "Well if you loved me you would sit right here with me and keep me company, like a good temporary stay-at-home boyfriend?" Undeterred, Max decided to make the best of the situation. "Fine, but how about some breakfast first? I'll cook."

As Max prepared breakfast, they bantered back and forth, the kitchen filled with laughter. Sitting down on the sofa with their plates, Max linked his phone to the TV and began watching his race upcoming debrief that Red Bull had sent him. Y/n glanced at the screen every so often, finding it unbelievably distracting and whilst he had to watch it for work, why couldn't he just watch it on his phone?"Mind turning that off? I need to focus." Max pouted playfully. "Aw, come on. It's just background noise." She shook her head, "No, it's distracting. I need to concentrate."

A minor disagreement ensued, but Max, ever the compromiser, reached a resolution. "Fine, wear these," he said, handing her a pair of headphones. "You study, I watch my debrief." Y/n huffed, taking the headphones, "Deal. Just don't complain if I fail my exam because of this." Max grinned. "Deal, as long as you promise we actually so something romantic later on." Y/n grinned and connected her headphones to the laptop and began playing her music.

Lando Norris

Lando was deep into his online stream, enthusiastically commentating on his latest race in the virtual world. Meanwhile, Y/n diligently studied in the living room, trying to concentrate despite the growing noise. At first, it was fine because he only had Max on a voice call and then they started playing the F1 games and inviting drivers, and it all went to chaos.

The usual loudness was just about starting to sound normal until she heard a loud screeching from the streaming room. Y/n finally reached her limit. She threw her laptop to the side and stormed into the streaming room, wearing a bitter expression. Lando turned, smiling before the smile turned into a grim look. He...was...fucked. "Hi babe." He said quietly. "Lando, could you please keep it down a bit? I'm trying to study out here." She said calmly. She didn't want fans making up rumours about an argument.

Lando, still wearing his headset, looked guilty. "I will try, but Max is-" She cut him off. "Lando, you will be quiet. I cannot fail these exams. I just need you to be quiet. Understood?" He nodded. "I'm sorry, babe. I got carried away. I'll tone it down." The serious expression turned to a light hearted smile, before she looked to the computer, smiled and waved to greet the chat, before leaving.

Lando continued on playing, listening to the chaos on the call and not acting up. But the guilt lingered, and he suddenly had to leave the stream momentarily. "Hey, guys? I'll be right back. Just need to grab a drink, I'll be back in a sec. Promise." He announced to his fellow drivers and viewers before leaving the room. He rushed to the kitchen, returning to the living room with a peace offering of snacks and energy drinks for his girlfriend who sat on her bean bag with her study sheets sprawled across the coffee table. She looked up quickly before looking back to her work and continuing on typing. "I'm really sorry, Y/n. Here, I got you some goodies. Let me make it up to you." Lando said, kneeling down beside her and leaving a small plate of biscuits and sweets beside her. She looked between the plate and Lando, seeing the sincerity in his expression before she chuckled, accepting the snacks. "You're lucky you're cute when you're sorry. Just try to keep it down, okay?"

"Okay, I promise." He said, pecking her cheek and running back to the livestream with his can of Monster. Back in the streaming room, Lando continued his broadcast. He scrolled through the chat, noticing a comment from Y/n.

Thanks for the biccies, lovey <3 Good luck with your stream!

His fans erupted in supportive comments, finding the situation adorable. Lando couldn't help but smile, covering his face from how hard he was blushing. "You better leave me some 9f them biscuits, Y/n." Lando said into the camera. "Let's get back to the race, shall we?" The stream continued, with a more considerate Lando and a grateful Y/n watching from the sidelines.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

As the creatures and people of Madrid lay asleep in their beds, Y/n sat on her laptop working away beside her boyfriend who had just come back from a race weekend on the other side of the globe. Carlos stirred in his sleep, as the soft glow of Y/n's laptop pierced the darkness. "What are you doing?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Y/n glanced at him, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "Sorry, babe. Got a deadline. Can't sleep." He sighed, and turned his back so he would be able to get even a glimpse of sleep. "Alright, just keep it down, please." He whispered. "Yes sir, Mr Sainz." She yawns, still typing.

In the morning, Carlos awoke to Y/n still typing away in their bed, exhaustion evident in her eyes. She got a lot of work done and had work in three hours. "Morning." He whispered, kissing her hand before sitting up. "Morning. Did you sleep alright?" Y/n asked. "Other than that one time you woke me, yes. Did you sleep at all?" Carlos asked. Y/n shook her head. "You should get some sleep before work. Finish this when you get home, yeah?" Y/n sighed in defeat. She wouldn't be able to go to work if she was this tired. Maybe a two hour sleep wouldn't hurt? " Carlos nodded, taking her laptop, placing it on the bedside table and tucking her into bed, . "You need to rest." He insisted. "I will wake you before work, mi amor." She reassured her, kissing her hair and letting her fall asleep.

When Y/n awoke, she looked out to see that the sun was awfully bright for 8am. Then she turned and saw Carlos walking into the room with a tray of coffee and toast. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked, sitting up. Carlos paused and looked at her. "Breakfast?" He replied in a question. Y/n looked at her phone, her eyes wide. "Oh my god! It's half past 11. I'm so fucking late!" She said. "No you aren't." Carlos replied, placing the tray on his locker. "I had work two hours ago!" She protested.

Carlos shook his head. "I called your boss, said you were sick." Y/n's eyes widened to what he had said. "Why'd you do that?" She asked. "Because you needed it." He replied, pulling the duvet over them and putting his arm around Y/n. "Carlos, I cant-" He cut her off. "Should we watch Berlín? It's meant to be really good." He said, flicking through the Netflix. "Babe. I'm serious. I need to go to work." She said. "And I have said before; you could quit work and I'll take care of you. You won't quit but I am still gonna take care of you. Now stay with me in bed and help me pick a series for us to watch."

She stopped complaining and lay in his arms. "Yeah. Berlín sounds good." She mumbled quietly. "Good, now here's some toast."

George Russell

George had brought Y/n to race weekends before, but this time, she found herself confined to the team's hospitality area, engrossed in her upcoming exams. She looked up to the TV evey so often to see how her boyfriend was doing before turning her attention back to her laptop. Like an angel sent, George decided to check in on her in between sessions, finding her buried in textbooks and notes.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked, pressing a kiss onto her head and leaning on the table. Y/n looked up, tired but determined. "Just trying to survive this study session. Well done on topping the session by the way." George grinned. "It's only the second practise. I think we know what strategy we're going for in qualifying though." He chuckled. "Have you eaten?" Y/n thinks for a moment and shakes her head. "You do know, you need to eat too."

She sighed, burying her head in her hands from exhaustion. "I know, I just lost track of time. Can you grab me something?" George smiled. "Of course." He replied, leaving momentarily and heading to the barista bar. He returned moments later with a croissant and a latte, placing them in front of her. "Fuel for the brain." he said with a smile. Y/n looked up at him appreciatively, "You're my hero, Mr Russell. Thank you so much."

"No problem. I know how important these exams are for you." He replied, sitting beside her. As she sipped the latte and nibbled on the croissant, George and her began talking. "Anything I can help with? Maybe a quick break to clear your mind?" Y/n smiled. "You being here is already a huge help. But maybe a motivational speech wouldn't hurt."

"Im not doing motivational speeches." They both burst into laughter, lightening the mood in the cozy hospitality space. George wrapped his arm around Y/n, offering comfort and support. "You're the best distraction," she admitted, leaning into him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Lance Stroll

Lance sighed as he opened the door to his bedroom after his return from the gym to find Y/n looking a bit frustrated. He arched a brow as he sipped from his water bottle and decided to approach her, concern evident in his eyes. "What's wrong, babe?" He asked, sitting down beside her. She sighed. "I'm not sure, but I just can't study. Maybe it's just because of how different it is from studying in my office back home." Lance thought for a moment."How about you use my office? It's quiet, and you'll have all the space you need." He suggested. "Oh no, I couldn't." She replied. "No, seriously. I never use it anyway."

Y/n's face lit up with gratitude as Lance led her to his office. The room was filled with shelves displaying Lance's collection of racing helmets and trophies. The large floor-to-ceiling window revealed a breathtaking snowy landscape of their estate. "This is perfect." Y/n whispered, finding the desk facing the wonderous view. Lance smiled, happy to help her. "If you need me just call. I'm just gonna hit the shower." He said, pressing a kiss onto her cheek. "Thank you, babe." She grinned, setting her stuff down. "Anytime." He shot back before leaving and making his way to his bathroom to shower.

Y/n had gotten a lot done since she sat down. The view was a perfect distraction but not too distracting that she couldn't focus. If anything, it was there to just calm her down before getting right back to it. An hour passed, and Lance returned with snacks, finding Y/n engrossed in her studies. "Hey, how are you getting on?" He asked, peering through the door. "Doing good, Lancelot. I am doing good." She smiled, still jotting down some notes. He walked in with a tray of snacks. In between him showering and him walking around the kitchen, he decided Y/n needed to take a break and made up a snack tray to bring her.

"Need a study break?" he asked, handing her a twix. Y/n grinned, "Definitely. Thanks for this, Lance. This office is amazing." Lance chuckled, "Well, it's only fair you get a taste of my world too. Plus, I like having you happy." As they enjoyed their snacks, the conversation turned from how everyone in the house has an office to the trophies and helmets on the walls.

"You know-" Lance began, taking down his Balu trophy from back in 2017. "This one's from my first podium. I was so excited that day." Y/n smiled as she sipped her cola. "I can see why. You've got an impressive collection of trophies, Lancey." He looked at her warmly. "But none of them compare to having my trophy girlfriend. I worked my ass off to even get you on a date." Y/n laughed. "I'm serious! You kept saying no!"

"You should've taken the hint." Y/n replied. "Then who would be sat in this office?" Lance asked. "I don't know. One of those weird models that throw themselves at you, I guess." She joked. "Yeah, but I prefer you." Lance said. There grew a comfortable silence before Lamce stood up, collecting the wrappers off the snacks and putting them back onto the tray. "I guess it's time for you to get back to studying." Lance said. "Thank you for the company." Y/n smiled as Lamce leaned down to give her a kiss. "How about we watch a movie later and order takeout? Sound good?" Lance suggested. Y/n nodded. You really are a dream."

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itneverendshere · 4 days

Text

guilty conscience (+18)

chapter iii

pairing: rafe cameron x female!reader

summary: when ward cameron, a renowned business man and millionaire specifically requested your services through an escort agency, you assumed it would be just another job—brief and straightforward. however, your entire world shifted when ward disclosed his true intentions and rafe cameron stumbled into your life. there were rules, and rules were meant to be followed.

was money worth breaking someone’s heart?

taglist: lmk if you want to be added (comment down below! if you've already asked me to be here and I didn't tag you LET ME KNOW AGAIN CAUSE IM VERY FORGETFUL) : @tiaamberxx @haruvalentine4321 @maybankslover

Your phone buzzed in your nightstand, startling you out of your reverie.

With a sigh, you fished it out, glancing at the screen to see Ward's name flashing in bold letters. You’d just texted him an hour earlier but spared any details for your sake.

Taking a deep breath, you answered the call, plastering on your most professional tone.

"Hey, Ward. How's it going?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by Ward's booming voice, filled with impatience.

"Well? Did you find him? How's it going over there?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to tell him you royally fucked up. The truth was things hadn't exactly gone according to plan. Rafe had slipped through your fingers not once, but twice, leaving you feeling more defeated than ever.

But you couldn't let Ward know that. Not yet, at least.

"It's... going." you replied vaguely, trying to keep your tone upbeat.

There was a pause on the other end, and you could practically hear Ward's mind whirring with impatience.

"Make it faster," he snapped, his tone sharp and demanding. "He’ll be at the golf course tomorrow, 9 sharp.”

The golf course?!

You had never golfed a day in your life, let alone attempted to blend in with a bunch of rich snobs on the green. For fuck’s sake. This was going to be a disaster.

On the other hand, you were nothing if not resourceful. You didn’t know the first thing about golf, but you were a quick learner. And if there was one thing you were good at, it was improvising on the fly.

“Sofia works there. Get his attention off her.”

Easier said than done.

“Ward, your son looks at her like she hung the moon and the stars."

"I don't pay you to play matchmaker, sweetheart," he retorted sharply, his tone laced with irritation. "I pay you to get the job done. Now, I don't want any excuses tomorrow. Make sure you're at that golf course bright and early, and don't screw this up."

With that, he hung up the phone.

Fucking assshole.

You slammed your phone down on the nightstand, cursing under your breath.

Ward might have been your current employer, but that didn't mean you had to like him. Dealing with his crap was like dealing with a spoiled toddler throwing a tantrum. Except, you know, this toddler had a lot more money and power, which somehow made it even worse.

You were not some puppet he could just yank around whenever he felt like it, constantly ordering you around like some sort of lackey.

But you were not about to let Ward's ridiculous demands get the best of you. If he wanted you to be a professional golfer, you would give him just that.

The evening turned into a crash course on all things golf. Who knew there was so much to learn about golf etiquette? You spent hours glued to your laptop, absorbing every last detail you could find. And those YouTube tutorials? Let's just say you had never clicked on a video so fast in your life.

Then came the real fun—practicing your swing.

Spoiler alert: it was a hot mess. You must've looked like a total dweeb flailing around with that golf club in your hotel room.

And let's not forget about perfecting your fake smile. You must've spent a solid hour in front of the mirror, trying out different variations until you found the one that said, "I'm totally a golf pro, trust me."

By the time morning rolled around, you were as ready as you'd ever be.

You found yourself standing outside the gates of the local Country Club, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. You glanced down at your outfit, a bunch of preppy pieces that you hoped screamed "I belong here" rather than "I have no idea what I'm doing."

And hey, bonus points for the fact that it made your ass and legs look great. Confidence boost, check.

With a mental pep talk and a final adjustment to your collar, you stepped through the gates, steeling yourself for what lay ahead. The crisp scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of clubs striking balls and polite laughter. You felt like a fish out of water in this sea of polo shirts and khaki shorts, but you refused to let it show.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the pro shop, hoping they had something available for a last-minute rental. Inside, it was bustling with old men browsing through rows of shiny clubs and chatting with the staff.

You stepped up to the counter, plastering on your best smile as you tried to appear confident.

“Hi there," you greeted the clerk, your voice coming out a little shakier than you would have liked. "I was wondering if you had any clubs available for rent?"

The clerk eyed you curiously, clearly noticing your lack of golf attire. "Sure thing," he replied with a friendly smile. "What kind of clubs are you looking for?"

You paused, realizing you had no idea what kind of clubs you needed. "Um, just something... basic?" you ventured, feeling completely out of your depth.

The clerk nodded understandingly and disappeared into the back room, returning a moment later with a set of clubs. "These should do the trick," he said, handing them over to you. "Just sign here, and you're all set."

You hastily scribbled your signature on the rental form, feeling a rush of relief as you finally held the clubs in your hands.

The course stretched out before you, lush green fairways bordered by trees and dotted with sand traps and water hazards. It all looked so pristine and posh, like something out of a magazine. You couldn't help but admire the luxury of it all, even though you felt like a total fish out of water.

Glancing around, you realized you were flying solo. No caddy to show you the ropes, no fellow players to offer tips or cheer you on. It was just you, your instincts, and the vast expanse of the course.

And let's not forget, your sheer power of delusion.

Taking a deep breath, you placed your ball on the tee and tried to remember everything you'd learned from those YouTube tutorials.

Grip firm, eye on the ball, swing smooth. Easy, right?

With trembling hands, you lifted the club and took a practice swing, hoping to shake off some of the jitters. Then, with a quick scan down the fairway, you drew back and swung.

The ball sailed through the air, arcing gracefully before landing with a satisfying thud on the fairway. It wasn't the most impressive shot in the world, but it was a start. You hadn't missed the ball entirely or accidentally hit someone in the head.

Small victories and all.

You grinned, feeling a rush of pride. Maybe this golf thing wasn't so bad after all.

You continued to take swings, each one feeling a little more confident than the last. It was all about finding that rhythm, hearing that satisfying "thwack" when the club met the ball, and watching it soar through the air.

You got lost in the game, forgetting all about the stress of the morning. The sun was climbing, spreading this warm, cozy light over the course, and all around you, there were these little moments of nature - birds chirping, clubs swishing, and the occasional "fore!" from nearby players.

It was kind of peaceful, in a way. All you cared about was nailing that next shot. Walking down the fairway, you couldn't help but grin to yourself. Sure, you weren’t exactly a golf prodigy, but who cared?

Just as you were lining up for another swing, a voice startled you from behind. "Hey new face, need a hand?"

“Fuck!” You blurted out, nearly dropping the club at the sound of his voice.

There he was, Rafe Cameron, looking all cool and collected in his golf gear like he'd just stepped out of a magazine. And of course, he caught you in the middle of your amateur hour on the course. You were hoping to find him during a break, probably around the bar, lurking around Sofia.

"Hey.” he said with a smirk, sauntering over to where you stood frozen in embarrassment. "Didn't mean to scare you.”

You tried to muster up a nonchalant response, but all that came out was a nervous chuckle. "Yeah. Just, you know, getting some practice in."

For the first time in my life, you’d like to add.

Rafe glanced down at the clubs in your hand, a glint in his eyes.

"Practice, huh? Well, you definitely look like you're giving it your all."

You wanted to die.

You forced a smile, hoping he couldn't see the panic swirling beneath the surface. "Yeah, well, gotta start somewhere, right?"

He chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Mind if I join you?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. This was not part of the plan, but you welcomed it anyway. You couldn't help but feel nervous at the thought of him witnessing your less-than-stellar golfing skills up close. But then again, you weren’t here to become a professional golfer, you were here to woo him off his feet and get paid.

Ward's words echoed in your mind—get his attention off her. And what better way to do that than by keeping him occupied with small talk on the golf course?

You shrugged, "The more, the merrier, right?"

"Exactly.” He said, falling into step beside you as you headed down the fairway. "So, how long have you been playing?"

You hesitated, not wanting to admit that this was your first time on a golf course. "Oh, you know, just getting into it recently," You replied vaguely, hoping he wouldn't press for details. "How about you?”

Rafe ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Been playing since I was a kid," he admitted. "It's kind of a family thing."

Of course, it is. Rich people. Nothing like a little golf for some family bonding time. But it gave you the opening you needed to make a personal connection. Nothing like sharing personal information to establish contact.

“That’s cute. My family thing was shoving pizzas down our throat every Friday.”

Rafe chuckled at your comment, the sound genuine. “Pizza Fridays sound pretty great, actually."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe this wouldn't be as awkward as you'd feared. "Yeah, they were definitely the highlight of the week," you admitted. "But I have to say, golf seems a lot more... sophisticated."

Rafe raised an eyebrow. "Sophisticated, huh? You must be hanging out with the wrong crowd."

You felt yourself relax a little more with each passing moment.

"Maybe I just need the right teacher," you said, giving him a sideways glance.

Rafe's smile widened, and he stepped a little closer, "Well, lucky for you, I happen to know a thing or two about golf."

"Is that so?" you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden flutter in your stomach.

Rafe nodded, his expression turning more serious. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If you're interested, I'd be happy to show you."

You could feel every little detail, like how close you were and the intensity in his eyes, like they were trying to unravel some mystery hidden deep inside you.

No, no, no.

Pull yourself together! You mentally slapped yourself, shaking off the dreamy haze that seemed to cloud your brain whenever he looked at you. You had goals, a mission to nail, and getting all googly-eyed over some suave, wealthy guy was not on the agenda.

You flashed him this playful grin, trying to play it cool even though your heart was doing somersaults in your chest.

"Oh, I dunno," you teased, taking a little step back to collect yourself. "Golf lessons? Sounds like it could burn a hole in my wallet. Can't be going broke over a new hobby."

Rafe chuckled, his eyes lingering on you for a second before he backed off, “You think I’d charge you?”

The way he said it, so casually, it sent a thrill through you, but you knew better than to let yourself get carried away. This was part of the game, after all.

“You’re always this nice to strangers?”

His blonde, tousled hair fell just so, framing his angular jawline, while a subtle stubble added a rugged charm to his appearance. And his smile... ugh, it's like he knew how fine he was. Rafe had this smirk that was just... chef's kiss. And his eyes? Sparkling like he was up to no good but in the best way possible. You couldn’t stop staring.

“Only the pretty ones.” he replied smoothly, his tone dripping with flirtation.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, trying to maintain your composure despite the butterflies dancing in your stomach. But damn, if he didn't have a way with words.

"Well, lucky me then," you quipped, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. “But don't think you're getting off that easy. 'M not just some pretty face, you know.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, gaze fixed on your hands as you moved them to fix your ponytail, “Is that so?"

Ah, you have no idea.

"Guess you'll just have to stick around to find out,” you replied with a cheeky wink, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you. “But fair warning, I'm not exactly a pro at this.”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Don't worry,” he said, his voice softening. “I'll go easy on you.”

His confident demeanor was infectious, and you couldn't resist playing along.

“Who said I wanted easy?”

He tilted his head slightly, his hair shifted with the movement, “You think you can take me?”

With that, he gestured for you to take the next shot. You could feel his eyes on you as you lined up your shot, the weight of his gaze fueling your focus.

Taking a deep breath, you blocked out all distractions and focused on the ball. Grip firm, eyes locked on the target, you swung the club with all the force you could muster.

The ball sailed through the air, soaring gracefully before landing with a satisfying thud on the fairway. You couldn't help but grin as you watched it roll to a stop, a surge of pride coursing through your veins.

Rafe let out a low whistle, his expression somewhat impressed. "Not bad," he conceded. "Let's see if you can keep it up."

“Sounds like you’re scared…”

His eyebrows practically hit the sky when you threw down the gauntlet, his lips curling up. "Scared?" he shot back, his voice oozing with playful doubt, “Of you?”

Oh boy.

“Of losing.”

“Pretty girl, I don’t lose.”

Yeah, we’ll see about that.

“And you’d swing a lot harder if you arched your back just a little.”

"How so?” you retorted, your tone teasing.

Rafe stepped up behind you, his presence suddenly much closer than before. His large hands gently adjusted your posture, touch gentle yet firm.

"Like this," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he guided you through the motion.

The warmth of his palms seeped through the fabric of your shirt, sending a wave of tingles across your skin. His fingers rested lightly against your sides, the pressure just enough to provide guidance without feeling intrusive. You tried to focus on his instructions, on the proper form and technique, but it was so fucking hard with him standing so close.

Every subtle movement, every brush of his body against yours…goddamn. You bit your lip to stifle a gasp, unable to believe how good it felt to have him so close.

"Alright, let's work on that swing.”

There was a confidence in his tone, a subtle reassurance that made you want to combust on the spot. The way his voice rose and fell with each word…it was difficult to do anything with the sensation of his touch sending your senses into overdrive.

You tilted your head slightly and threw out the question, "Like this?"

Before he could even answer, you couldn't resist the urge to push the boundaries a bit. So, you arched your back ever so subtly, pressing yourself back into him. It was a total spur-of-the-moment move.

There was a beat of silence that felt like an eternity. And then, oh my god, you felt his hands tighten slightly on your waist.

“Just like that.”

But then he stepped back and you couldn't help but feel disappointment at the loss of his proximity. You gave yourself a mental shake and got back into the swing of things – pun totally intended.

Grabbing the club again, you were all set to take your next shot. With Rafe's tips fresh in your mind, you took a swing, putting everything you had into it. And would you believe it? The ball actually went where you wanted it to, landing way closer to the hole than you expected.

Rafe's reaction was priceless. His eyebrows shot up again, and there was this look in his eyes like, this time he was genuinely impressed.

Score one for you.

But you weren’t about to get cocky just yet. So, you gave him a smirk and threw down the gauntlet.

“Funnily enough, I never lose either.”

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iznsfw · 10 months

Text

Day-Off

Kep1er's Shen Xiaoting x Male Reader x Male Friend Smut

10,884 words

Categories | masturbation, handjob, blowjob, facefucking, cunnilingus, anal, spitroast, thighfucking, slapping

Masterlist | Mobile Masterlist | Commission me!

First commission! :D Thanks for funding my siblings' allowances and my search for a new laptop. I'm not even being sarcastic; your tips and commissions help me out a lot. Work can be cruel.

Okay, to begin with: one could say Xiaoting’s a little pent up. Just a little is what she'd like to say, for the sake of everyone around her, but with the way things are going, she might as well be flat-out enraged. Fucking unhinged, if you will. She’s a nudge away from screaming and wrecking everything everywhere all at once, all over the place.

The problem? Well, it's not an easy answer. But this is the short one: it's not at all fun being kept in the company building to practice more even after they've replayed the comeback song more times than she can count on her fingers. There's a one, a two, and a one, two, three—

Cue the music!

(Yeah, that wasn't a particularly short answer.)

"So, I was thinking…" hums Yujin, sedentary beside her and with a head on her shoulder.

Every bone in Xiaoting’s body is on fire after the rehearsals. But: "What is it?"

See, it's been a rough day, but not too rough that she's going to take it all out on her best friend. No matter what happens, she is and always will remain an angel to Yujin. Nothing more, nothing less. They're practically sisters with how much time they've spent together. She guesses she should return the favor of friendship in her own little way.

Here's how it is with her and Yujin as of present: they're in the practice room, and it's quiet. The rest of the group have emptied the place out and the two of them are alone. This is usually the time Xiaoting and she catch up with each other; there isn't much time to do that in between packed schedules, but since then she’s formed quite a friendship with her bandmate, and she’s determined to keep it strong.

Yujin taps her chin cutely. "Are the CCTVs' audio on?"

Xiaoting raises a brow. A smile, however, settles for the first time on her face. "Choi Yujin," she says, both seriously and kiddingly, "what the hell are you planning now?"

"Language.”

“The girls—"

"—aren't here," Yujin fills the blanks in for her with her signature eye smile. "Exactly, thank you for bringing that up. They can't join us when we go there."

She blinks, not catching on. "Go where?"

The older girl pushes two index fingers together. "I may or may not have negotiated with the manager," she says slyly, "and we may or may not have a day-off tomorrow."

Genuine and grateful shock filters into Xiaoting’s Bambi-wide eyes. The sides of her mouth twitch, and she realizes it’s a smile. It takes news like this to bring out a big, giddy one from her. It's the right news at the perfect time.

(No, it can't be merely called news—it's a blessing. The universe is finally kind to her. Maybe it doesn't deserve the endless curses she's thrown at it after rough days, when it's chosen to bear the weight of the sky on her.

Xiaoting, however, is fantastic at holding grudges.)

"You're kidding!" says Xiaoting happily. Her hands grip Yujin's shoulders, and now she's got the girl swaying to and fro driven by her own excitement. Force is something she doesn't relent, so Yujin's forced to bear the calamity of her happiness with the repeated rocking. “Yujin unnie, oh my god, you’re the best!”

"Calm down!" she chides with a giggle, but the girl's energy only goes up.

"We've got to go somewhere! Somewhere fancy, Yujin unnie, somewhere like a… a…"

What could be the perfect place to go for a day-off? The two of them have already gone to a massage therapist, as well as blown money on massive shopping sprees. That film screening’s crossed out, too. Now, with all of those boxes checked, they need a new one to add to the list.

"A hot spring," Yujin declares rather than suggests, a cheeky grin on her face. Seems like she’s been scheming about a day-off for more than a while. "We're going to, like, a super private hot spring. It’s really exclusive, so even if people recognize us, we’ll be fine. Privacy is one of the reasons why it’s got five stars on Google reviews.”

Xiaoting leans back into the mirror and thinks about it. A private hot spring? No need to think if people would see her or not? It sounds too good to be true. She loves being an idol despite the schedules and cramped day-offs, but it definitely won’t hurt to be able to be herself where it won’t matter. It would drain the stress from her life even for just a little while.

Who knows? She might even make some new friends.

“I’m in!”

Well, someone isn't, but that's how the story goes.

“Isn’t this kind of like nepotism?”

The creases on your clothes don’t smooth out by themselves. You guess you shouldn’t have procrastinated ironing them, especially now that you’re bringing them along for a trip. Look over at your friend's luggage and see that his clothes aren’t that perfect either, which comforts a much more unprioritized concern.

“Dude,” he sighs as he folds his clothes into organized (or at least, as organized as they can be) places inside his luggage bag, “do you even know what nepotism means?”

He got you. You make a sigh of your own, too; your main concern being the whole vacation thing is rather odd. It really shouldn’t be when it’s a promise of a good time, food served limitlessly, and the waves always there to crash on a tired soul, but it still sets you off.

What could be the reason for your gut feeling? You haven’t been able to figure out why. All you know is that if Lee weren’t your friend, you’d have refused to go. You would have fought not to go, but your circumstances are different, hence the clothes scattered along the carpeted floor of his room and the unzipped luggage carry-ons.

Your belongings sit side by side in your bag. Your earphones are tangled strings and your clothes are wrinkled; they don’t want to go either, apparently. They all yearn for home, just like you are, even if you’re just in the packing stage of the trip.

Maybe they’ve got little introverted souls of their own.

“No,” you admit. Your back slumps. “It just… it just doesn’t seem fair, y'know."

“Who cares?” Lee says, in his usual, laid-back manner. It’s the thing that made the two of you close friends in the first place, but right now, it’s interfering with helping him understand your situation. Pity. “Lin works there, so it isn’t exactly a privilege. He works his ass off, and since he’s been a long-time employee, we get to stay there for free. Isn’t it neat?”

Lee looks at you with an expression that prods you to agree, but you don’t budge. It’s kind of funny how you refuse to enjoy a free connections-caused vacation when your morals are already fucked up as is, but when you believe in something, you don’t really back down easily.

Is that a good trait? Not exactly; it has its fair share of bad days.

“What about people who lose a booking spot because of us?”

“Fuck them, man,” Lee says nonchalantly, waving a hand in the air. “I’m going to have fun, and nothing can ruin that for me.”

How you’re friends with someone who’s your complete opposite, you’ve no idea. But you like Lee—he’s been there for you when no one wanted to be, and you owe more to him than an agreement to a vacation. If that’s the case, why couldn’t you just go?

You say nothing. You don’t know what else to say anyway. Any more words from you might dig a deeper hole than you’ve already dug, so you choose to be silent. Sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut than explain yourself.

“Hey,” he suddenly says, a softer melody to his tone now. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not too happy about going out, so if you want to back out, it’s totally fine with me. No hard feelings.”

You know he’s just trying to be kind, as anyone would, but his words tell you anything but not to go. Thing is, you don’t like being a burden on his back. On anyone’s back for that matter. Maybe it’s time to dip your toes out of your comfort zone and just dive headfirst into doing it. The whole thing would be over sooner than you’d think.

"I guess I'm in," you say. No going back now.

"I fucking love you, man!" Lee cheers, throwing his arms around you.

You have to admit you're smiling. Stifle it, but the creases of happiness get your cheeks unable to form a disguise. Decide not to hide it anymore (because who the fuck are you kidding anyway?) and return to packing.

In a slightly better mood, you fold one graphic shirt over the other, and ask, "What's the hype about the place anyway?"

"Well," Lee explains, "it's a hot spring. It's where celebrities, idols—all the hot people, basically—go for a vacay."

"Does that make us hot people then?" you wonder out loud. It's worth the question.

"You are a good-looking dude. I'd definitely tap that."

"Thanks." An embarrassingly lengthy beat. "Wait, what—"

"They pay really good, too," Lee goes on as if nothing happened. "That's why Lin likes working there. It has unlimited portions of dinner and a big buffet at night. The water's really warm, too, so you're not gonna shiver when you get in."

"Ah. Well,” shrug matter-of-factly, “it is a hot spring."

He smirks. "You don't get it, do you? The water there is perfect for external detoxifying. That's where Nayeon goes to get perfect skin."

There he goes again. Lee’s the type of person to be too in the know of every piece of celebrity gossip out there. That quality of his goes up when it’s about his favorite idol, Im Nayeon.

"You're too in love with her," you scoff.

"We have a connection, is all."

"A parasocial one at that."

"One more word out of you," Lee says, voice full of warning, "and you're banned from my house and the hot spring."

You chuckle. Lee's quite sensitive when it comes to Nayeon. You wonder if there would be a point in your life wherein you'd obsess over an idol, too, just like he is. Perhaps a few months from now?

(A day from now?)

"Oh, come on," you protest. Zip up your bag and shove it over to Lee. "It's not my fault you genuinely believe Nayeon's your girlfriend!"

"I don't, what the fuck."

"Then why do you want to go to the hot spring so badly? Think you can meet her there?" Put on a mocking voice. "Think you can marry her and have seven children with her?"

Lee glowers and gives you the finger. Gives you the finger on the other hand, too. Shoves the two raised middles into your face. "Fuck you, man."

Your heart feels lighter after teasing him. It just so happened that all it takes for you to agree is the classic ol' nagging. God knows you're good at that.

Your mind changed, see? It’s all going according to plan—you and Xiaoting have to meet somehow.

Xiaoting's happy that they're going to use the trailer. She knows it might attract attention, considering that a photo of her girl group is literally painted on the outer walls of the vehicle, but if the world sees fit, maybe people would assume it's a normal trailer with a fan-funded ad.

Besides, it's better than her manager's tight old car.

"We've got this place all to ourselves," Yujin says in her usual cheerful voice. She’s opted to go donning a lavender set of pajamas. Xiaoting chooses to wear a denim skirt and a t-shirt. "Which seat will it be, Ting?"

She scans the place. There are aisles and aisles of empty seats, all mantled with transparent plastic. There's a bathroom in the far end (essential after they eat some nice burgers on the road) and a television mounted at the very front of the trailer (gotta know what happens in the next episode of Running Man, after all).

Ultimately, they choose to sit near the doors. She suggests that they each occupy two seats opposite each other for comfort. Her friend agrees, thinking nothing of it. They both settle into their seats with pillows pressed to the trailer walls and the night sky watching their trip.

Would it watch if she decided to look at porn right now? Would the stars lose their shine after seeing the kinks she’s particularly into?

Oh, she knows it's risky, but she's got her headphones with her, hanging 'round her neck like an accessory. Yujin and the driver won't be disturbed that way. And she’s got mobile data, too. If they ever check the Wi-Fi router history, they’d know nothing about her secrets. At least, she doesn't think so.

She bites her lip. Yujin's still awake, so she has to hold out for a few more minutes.

"Isn't it nice getting to go out once in a while?" Yujin asks. She sighs dreamily as she looks out at the passing roads. The moon gleams in the reflection in her eyes. "It’s been a while since we went on a road trip. Not that fun when cameras are around."

Xiaoting's thighs squirm together. She's too horny for small talk with her. Her hands and eyes remain locked on her phone, where a video of a woman with spread legs between two anonymous men waits. She wants to watch it already, to imagine that it’s her body they’re using. She wants to sink her fingers deep in her own cunt and fuck herself into a quiet yet violent orgasm. She needs it more than she could say, but Yujin’s still there, waiting for a response.

“Ting-ah,” Yujin calls out, looking at her with eyes full of expectation. She’s confused; Xiaoting is quiet, but not so much that her responses are nonexistent. Something must be wrong. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Does she dare…? Xiaoting hopes the dark night covers her hand, which edges down to her covered core. She bites her lip to muffle the moany sound of her breath catching on a hook. “We deserve this. Let’s hope the girls aren’t jealous.”

“They’re going to stay at Disneyland,” replies the leader. “If anything, we’re the ones who should be jealous.”

Xiaoting finds her clit and rubs at it softly with the tip of her finger. Her thighs instinctually lock her wrist in place. The heat gathers at her bundle of nerves and spreads to the rest of her body. She’s too turned on, and the thought of Yujin or the driver finding out that she’s touching herself both frightens and excites her. At times, her wrist stops its choreographed motions, hesitance riddling its veins, but goes against it with a pace even she can’t keep up with.

“Xiaoting? Earth to Shen Xiaoting?”

“Ah,” she responds, but it’s more induced by her fingers drawing number 8s on her nub rather than an apologetic answer. Xiaoting’s cheeks and ears turn red. “Yeah, Disneyland. They’re younger anyway, so I’d guess they’d like… that.”

Yujin peers at her closely. Her eyes squint but fail to catch on to her groupmate’s hand which now starts to fuck her fingers into her tight hole. “Are you okay?”

Xiaoting is more than okay. She’s blissful, and she’s not using the term loosely, mind you; her wetness practically floods her panties. They slicken the pads of her fingers and drive them through deeper places in her needy cunt. No matter how hard she tries to relax in order for her fingers to intrude her hole more, she still desperately clenches down. It’s humiliating how hard and sensitive her nipples have become even without them being directly touched.

Her hips sway in what she prays is a subtle dance. She looks out the window and nods. She’s a little afraid to speak. What if her words end up becoming garbled moans? Would it matter if they do? How high is the possibility of her saying something like please please let me touch myself, I’ll be a good girl, don’t make me stop I’ve been so good?

Yujin eventually lets the matter rest and melts into sleepful rest herself. It’s either she has an idea of what Xiaoting is doing and doesn’t care enough to pry, or has no idea at all and decides to leave it be for both of their sakes. Her head leans on the window pane where her sleep-ridden eyelids reflect.

Once Xiaoting ensures that her eyes are completely shut, she connects her headphones to her phone. Her mind’s so addled by lust that the clicking of buttons necessary to wire the sound matches the speed of light. She hits the play button, waiting eagerly for the video with the hand between her legs.

One of the men teases the woman’s tiny slit with his cock, making the actress toss her head back and bite her lip. Xiaoting’s mouth waters at how big the rod is, and suddenly it’s not lust much anymore but wishfulness. She wants to be fucked as good as she could be, and it can’t easily be solved with watching pornography. For now, though, she settles with teasing her clit with the same rhythm one of the male pornstars is performing on the passive woman.

Her heart aches with want. As she watches him penetrate her while his partner fucks her mouth, she teases herself. Her breaths break through her nostrils while her fingers rub up and down between her drenched folds. She dips her middle digit inside her clenched hole, and she has to gather her strength not to moan unabashedly right then and there. The power of imagination reaches beyond excellence, and right now she’s imagining that she’s in the same position as the porn actress: having both her upper and downer lips fucked at the same time.

“Fuck,” she whispers. It’s a thin little word, barely creating any sound, but she still looks at Yujin out of paranoia. Upon finding that she remains asleep, she continues fucking herself. The sides of her fingers clash with her velvety walls to rub and stimulate them. Her wrist bumps her clit, increasing the pleasure of the experience.

Her pussy’s closed tightly around her fingers, as if telling them to go on or they’ll be trapped here doing it forever. Soon, she has to lift her hips too to mash them with her hand. Xiaoting’s filling herself over and over again, and her risque little self-love session is amplified with the dirtiest of thoughts. She thinks how badly she wants to be used, to be treated like the good girl she’s willing to ditch her whole persona to be. She ponders on how good it would feel if her holes were to be filled with cock and fingers and cum, and the way it would never stop even after she’s spent. She guarantees that’s the part that makes her excited the most.

Soon, she’s lost in her own dream. This isn’t exactly a dream slumber would stumble across, but it’s perfect—it’s an imaginary land where she’s given what she wants. What she wants just so happens to be fucked. That’s how simple it is. She’d appreciate nothing more than to have her body rubbed and touched, to have her holes spread to their limits and taken in a way that’s almost inconsiderate.

It's a fantasy she has, in fact, of being screwed by two people at once. She’s read the explicit fictional stories horny fans on the internet write about her, but she’s chosen to enjoy them rather than report them to her agency. They get some parts right: she wants to be fucked, she’s constantly on edge, and would love to have her sexual dreams fulfilled. The problem here is that there’s no one to make them come true for her; she has to stick with overused words in old fanfiction site posts and her fingers.

The two men’s symphony of moas draw wetter strings of lubrication from her cunt. It’s as if the video were an actual critically acclaimed movie with how much she’s hooked onto it. She imagines the best she could that it’s her ass that fat cock is going into, her mouth that’s being ruined, her clit that’s being rubbed. She wants it all more than anything.

“Please,” she says. Her legs cross and her voice strains to be allowed to scream. “Fuck me, use me, pound me… ‘lmost there…”

Xiaoting shuts her eyes and lets the sounds get to her: the clashing of skin, the wet squelching sounds that are either coming from her pussy or the pornstar’s, the male and female moans alike. She pumps faster, and she’s chasing her high like a starved hunter for prey. She’s chasing after it, grasping it—

“Cumming!”

The shock settles in before she squirts all over the seat. The worst thing is that she’s not able to stop the stream of girl cum coming from her pussy despite her hand halting its movements. She can’t take back her words either. Someone definitely heard that.

“Ting-ah,” says a drowsy Yujin. She lifts her head off the window and squints through blurred vision to try and make out what happened. “Did someone say anything?”

“Yes… ah, no.” Xiaoting thanks goodness that her voice isn’t brittle anymore. “I think I just, uh, spilled my water.”

“Oh. Want me to help you clean it up?”

“It’s, it’s fine,” Xiaoting declines politely and waves her off.

(Fuck, she wasn’t supposed to dismiss her with that hand! Luckily, she explained the reason for the wetness just now. She just hopes the atmosphere doesn’t stink of fluids and cum.)

Still, long after the girl drifts off to sleep again, Xiaoting discovers that it isn’t enough. She could have the most head-numbing orgasms known to woman, but they still won’t feel as good when they’re not drawn out of her by someone else.

So, what should she do?

Planes are the closest thing to the Devil incarnate. Whose idea was it to throw people into the sky where they could disappear with the wrong turn? It’s bad enough on the ground, but when you’re talking about being in the sky where the weather can pull you down without effort, the danger makes your skin crawl more.

So, when Lee told you that he booked two seats on a plane to get to the infamous hot spring, (the time of the explanation conveniently being when you were already miles from home in the goddamned car), you freaked out. That’s the lightest way you can put it.

“What the fuck do you mean we’re getting on a plane?” you ask, trying to keep your voice at a level wherein the taxi driver won’t hear your toddler-like complaints.

“Are you serious?” your friend fires back, although his title as a friend would have withered instantly if not for your genuine admiration for the guy. “It’s in Seoul, what did you expect us to do? Walk like twenty-thousand miles to get there?”

You let out a little hoarse laugh and clap your hands together sarcastically. Taking theater in high school has seriously influenced your ways. “You know I hate heights, Lee! Oh, and what a great argument you have there: using that White Chicks song to defend yourself. Really mature.”

“That’s A Thousand Miles, you moron!” Lee punches your shoulder. “I already booked a flight, so you either go through or go home. Deal with it.”

You’d have chosen the latter, but you really don’t want to drag your heavy bags home. The roads have been crossed and the wheels have rolled—you can’t back out now. It would break the whole puzzle from the first jigsaw piece to the last.

Besides, you did tell yourself that it was time to step out of your comfort zone. It would take blocking out flashbacks of when the plane made an emergency landing back when you were four years old and on a family trip, but no one promised that it would be easy.

The driver flashes the two of you dirty looks. You and Lee immediately take the hint to calm down and save the conversation for later.

Entering the airport and discovering that the drop-off place is underground reminds you of the second closest thing to the Devil incarnate: the cursed invention that is the elevator.

Choose any elevator out there: an office elevator, a Barbie dreamhouse rope-controlled one, or the other unholy name they take up which is “lift.” Whatever and wherever doesn’t matter. You hate all of them equally, the contempt in your heart going out for each one that exists. It doesn’t matter which form they transform into. You will always hate them with every piece of your soul.

It just turns out that perhaps your overly paranoid gut feelings were right this time, for today, you experience the worst of not one, but two hells of your worst fears.

“You know,” say out loud as you suspiciously examine every cramped corner of the elevator, “I have to start saying no sometimes. I don’t need this, man.”

Lee scoffs. “You say ‘no’ all the time.” He tracks the numbers going up on the little screen above the elevator buttons. “You should actually start doing the opposite.”

Once again, guilt runs through your blood like a drug. It definitely won’t be a recreational one; you realize through it that all your life, you’ve sheltered yourself in a bubble where no discomfort could ever pop in and welcome itself into your home. It’s carried on into adulthood and, like that of an irritating intrusive thought, won’t leave. It’s a painful discovery, and you don’t want to think about it more.

The elevator seems to shrink around you. You can only think of how there would be the plane to not look forward to as well, and you feel even sicker.

One step at a time, buddy. One step at a time.

The gray doors part and welcome you to a floor of marble, promotional tarpaulins that hang from the high ceiling, and lots of people. You release a breath of relief.

“Look, I’m sorry, man,” says Lee. He rolls his luggage out of the claustrophobia-causing nightmare and shrugs.

It’s his second apology of the day. He tries to play it off with small smiles, but he’s obviously down. He’s never forced you to do stuff you weren’t comfortable with until now, and because of that, it’s ruining the trip. You’re ruining the trip. It hasn’t even fully begun yet.

“You don’t have to say that all the time, you know.”

“I know, but I…” He shakes his head. “I just want to have a nice vacation with my closest friend. I’m sorry if I keep pushing your limits—”

“My limits are anything that make me feel, like, even the slightest bit uncomfy,” you inform him with a small, lighthearted grin. “Don’t feel bad about it. You’re still a dick, though.”

“And you still don’t know what A Thousand Miles is.”

Scoff and walk faster. You and Lee meet each other’s gazes along the way and grin. It’s how you know everything’s going to work out.

Your wristwatch says that it's nearly one a.m.. Explains why your eyelids are heavy, but you keep going. If you persevere, the inevitable sleep on the flight would distract you from everything. Make your world lighter for just a few hours. Jetlag’'ll come around, though, but fending off flight anxiety is your main concern now.

Climbing into the plane, you find your seats. Lee calls dibs on the window seat, which you have no problem giving to him. The light clouds in the dark sky and the shining city lights beneath them all may look photogenic, but it's a far cry from fascinating to you. It's a nightmare, a complete opposite from beautiful.

"Soda or coffee?" asks the flight attendant. She's pretty—she looks like she could be the Nation's Sweetheart with her youthful face and timid yet polite smile.

(Wait…)

You don't drink either of them anyway. Soda's too carbonated, and coffee would just keep you awake. That’s the last thing you need to be. "Water, please."

"Boring," Lee says. He turns to the flight attendant. "I'll take both, if you please."

"Seat 1112, am I correct?"

"Sure are." He leans back onto the armrest and smiles.

You roll your eyes at Lee practically making heart eyes at the flight attendant. He's trying to look all cool, too. Shake your head as you drink from the water bottle the woman gave you.

"I apologize, sir, but your payment doesn't cover two drinks. May I offer you water instead?"

Water streams out of your nose. Laughs shake your chest and shoulders. The poor old lady over at the front rows looks at you curiously. A man's stifling his laughs while Lee tries to debate which party should be more embarrassed: him or you.

A fair tie?

“That was so not cool, man,” Lee grumbles. He lifts the cup full of mineral water to his lips and drinks it halfheartedly.

“Hey, not my fault you only think with your dick.”

“Whatever. Fine.” He looks at the attendant serving other people again. “She kinda looks like IU, doesn’t she?”

You tilt your head. He could be right; you might have caught a glimpse of a camera around the corner. Maybe she was doing a variety show role? And with that face looking strikingly identical with Korea’s household name, there’s a chance that his attempt to pick the Lee Jieun up was just broadcasted on live television.

Wipe your mouth. “You like IU, too, don’t you?” you ask.

Lee shrugs. “Her surname isn’t for nothing, ain’t it? She’s like my number two after Nayeon.”

“And you realize that you’re probably gonna get eaten up by her fans on Pannchoa if she’s really IU?”

“Yep,” your friend says with a nonchalant tilt of his head. “Who cares? Anybody in Korea would die to have IU in his life, or at least, someone who looks like her.”

You have a feeling that it foretells something that would change the trajectory of your lives forever. How and why, you don’t know. You guess you’ll just have to survive the flight to find out.

It takes a long time to get you to find out. The whole ride is a headache. Turbulence knocks the plane side to side, and you’re constantly bumped awake from your sleep. You’re thankful that you didn’t choose to get risky and choose the window seat. If you did, you’d have multiple fears of suddenly falling from the sky and into an ocean called the Middle of Nowhere. You try to get Lee to pull the small blinds of the window down to soothe your fears, but he’s too fascinated by how the clouds wisp and wane over the wings of the plane. He did give in to letting you use his blanket, though, so you decide that it’s okay.

Landing is a different story. Your palms feel numb after holding onto the armrests for so long. They lose color, stiffening upon the solid coping mechanism and persevering the best they can. While the others, especially the older men, clap politely after the plane meets earth again, you sit there breathless.

“Wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Lee asks. He’s clapping, too, earning the approval of an old American guy to his right.

Glower. “Fuck you."

You have to admit: it is quite a nice place. You'd say that to Lee, but you're still in a bad mood after the flight.

The hot spring lifts your spirits anyway. Small well-furnished buildings reserved for the esteemed guests (a.k.a you and Lee) stand to the side while the hot spring pools are modestly curtained. Tangled lights pepper the poles, making Christmas come early. The night pairs up with it to make shadows on the grass.

You feel like a rich man. Rich men aren’t exactly all that honest, but you’re truthful when you say that perhaps it was a good idea to join Lee on the trip.

"Now remember," Lee tells you, dressed in a pair of swimshorts like you, "the expensive places like this one separate the women from the men. So you gotta be careful."

"Sounds like my old Sunday school." Translation: easy to follow.

Sunday school also taught that greed isn’t good. That’s one thing you can’t reject because you crave for more of this place. The clear, chlorine water seeping into the grass from the brim of the pool and the large buffet set out on a long table before the hot springs all draw you closer to more than one of the seven deadly sins. You want more of this rare luxury even if you’ll bite off more than you can chew.

At least you have Lee as your partner on the highway to hell.

"All I'm saying is," he pulls back the curtain of one of the pools and gestures a welcoming hand, "be mindful 'cause—"

"Hey, what the fuck!"

You almost jump out of your flip-flops. Look around to see who screamed, then realize you have nowhere to look but forward.

There lies (swims?) your answer: a young, red-haired woman is in the warm water, glaring as she covers up her body. There's not much to cover when her exposed tight midriff already has ample show space below the bikini, but the shock in her eyes shows that there's more to this than modesty. She was doing something she never intended to be seen.

Looks like your friend didn't live up to his words about carefulness. He just invaded the women's pool. And now you're pulled into the mess and could be fined for this and that. You're already broke enough as is, so the irritableness inside you grows again.

"Oh my god," Lee says. He looks curious despite the shock on his face. Seeing this girl is like deja vu—he swears on his life he’s seen her before. "I'm so sorry. W-we, we didn't…we're sorry, miss—"

"It’s Xiaoting," the girl says. "Be careful, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

Her name rings a bell, but it’s only a light sound. You swear you’ve heard of her somewhere—that face belongs on magazines, and with the hot spring being the go-to for celebrities, there’s a big chance she’s a famous name.

Lee swallows. He sees it, too. "Is it the wrong time to say that you look just like IU?"

"Don't flatter me," Xiaoting says, though the venom in her words is suddenly stranded. Those red cheeks can't be induced by the fancy lights. "You can't just disturb a girl with her me time. Fucking leave."

Me time?

Slowly, all the pieces fall into place. You realize that the shock Xiaoting showed isn’t because of the pool regulations and restrictions about the guests, but because she’s doing something far more bold. Now you understand why her fingers, still covering her top, are wrinkled even when the red locks of her head aren’t wet.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” Xiaoting rolls her eyes. “I’ve been dying to get fucked all day.”

“What?” you ask, your voice ridden with confusion from the sudden realization.

She eyes your stomachs, quads, and faces. Her big eyes are cameras—they sweep down your body and Lee’s own with accurate focus. You suddenly feel like shrinking into a small creature just to escape the power of her stare. In one way or another, she still brings her intimidating idol persona outside of the stage.

She drops her arms from her neck and shows off the whole of her body. It’s slim yet toned, gathering the most power in her midriff lined with light abs and her thighs that look delicious even when submerged in water. The black top and bottoms hug her figure so well it’s starting to look as if she had them personally handmade and tailored to look fantastic on her.

“And those cocks,” she continues, looking at your crotches with a lick of her lips, “look perfect. Big enough to give my insides a good rearranging, you know?”

You and Lee look at each other, then back at Xiaoting. None of you expected that, even from a woman whom you assumed just masturbated in the pool. And whose name starts to sound more and more familiar.

"Are you…" you dare to ask.

"Shen Xiaoting," she replies. She's slowly stepping out of the pool. You'd die to be the water caressing her thighs. "You know Kep1er, don't you?"

Lee nods dumbly.

She smiles. "I thought so. I knew you'd recognize me after you said I looked like IU."

"For what it's worth," your friend says, stumbling on his words, "I like IU. A lot. I got to know you when, uh, fans on Twitter said you looked like her."

"Would you fuck me like you want to fuck her?"

Now he has no words to stumble on. "I… uh…"

"Your friend doesn’t look too sure,” Xiaoting says after she turns to you. Resting her head on one side, she adds, charmingly: “How about we show him the real deal? Make him give in?”

You can’t believe what she’s saying. It’s both too good and too bad to be true. The first factor to this that’s a pro and a con is that she’s an idol. Didn’t she just say that she’s from Kep1er? If one of the hot spring staff couldn’t keep their mouth shut, a scandal would spread on news sites and social media alike that Kep1er’s visual and main dancer just fucked a random guy. Two random guys if this escalates.

You can’t give in.

Xiaoting massages your shoulders.

You won’t give in.

And she runs her fingers along your chest and down to the band of your swimshorts. She pulls it down.

You shan’t give in.

Afterwards. she fishes your cock out from your gray underwear. You’re hard. She’s smiling.

You’ll never give in.

She pumps it. Her hand is as soft as it looks. The added texture from the wrinkles stimulates you more in a way that’s so fucked up it shouldn’t be allowed to happen. You bite your lip to break the moan that nearly escaped your lips.

Xiaoting drops to her knees.

You give your all.

Xiaoting kisses your tip then tickles your slit with the soft edge of her tongue. You exhale too loudly for her not to grin mischievously. Her bright eyes shouldn’t look so innocent when her full lips graze along your length, sealing at the base then harshly sucking all the way backwards. But they do, and you can’t look away.

She’s trapped you. You’re a little embarrassed at how a girl who’s only met you and knows all the risks that come with fucking you still manages to reduce you to groans because you should be the bigger person here. You should play the devil’s advocate and tell her to get away from you with her nonsense and stupidly soft lips and irritatingly beautiful face. You should push her away. Yes, she should do everything but come closer; she should—

“Fuck me,” you breathe raspily.

“‘Course I will,” Xiaoting answers with a smile that’s too pretty for her own good. She faces your friends and flashes him a quiet smile. “Jealous yet?”

“No,” Lee answers.

“Hm. I can do something about that.”

She deepthroats you, welcoming your bulge into her tight neck and letting it thrust in and out. The closeness of her airway greets you when you push, and her slick, wet mouth begs you to come back when you exit. It leaves you in a frenzy of indecisiveness—you don’t know what to choose: keep bluntly thrusting into Xiaoting’s throat or let your cockhead glide along her lips. Again, she makes you dizzy. Helpless. Weak.

“You sure know how to suck a dick,” says Lee enviously. The tightness of his shorts can’t hide his erection.

Xiaoting pulls back. “Oh, I do,” she says. “I can do two things at once, if you know what I mean.” She levels him with a schemeful stare. “I’m very good at it.”

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks meekly. Her bottom lip juts out, “Want me to show you?”

Whenever Lee watches Kep1er’s V-lives or variety shows, he takes Xiaoting as someone who’s silent but forgiving. But now that he’s actually met her, he finds out that she’s the type of girl who doesn’t take no for an answer. If it weren’t already obvious from her rubbing his cock over his bottoms and her mouth sucking you away, she always gets what she wants. She might like to play quiet and innocent, but it’s clear that she isn’t any of that.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps. Her palm’s soft and smooth over the sensitive flesh of his erection. “Xiao– Xiaoting… you’re so—”

“Oh, so now you want to fuck me?”

“I—uh—”

“Say it.” Xiaoting replaces her mouth on your cock with a furious, pumping hand and prods your friend on. Now she’s jerking the two of you off at the same time and leaves no second for you to breathe. “Say that you want to fuck me.”

“I want to fuck you, Xiaoting,” Lee says. He closes his eyes and hisses. “We want to fuck you so bad.”

You nod in agreement. Both of your male moans fill the air, making Xiaoting’s smile grow wider. She’s finally getting what she wants, and she’s not going to stop until it blooms to something better. She can already imagine being fucked by the two of you. She bets it’ll be better than just watching an old porn video.

The cause of the thrill is recognizable. Yujin could walk into the pool at any time and scream at the boldness, and if you and Lee weren’t trustworthy, she’d end up on the news and ruin her career. It’s the risk of being caught that quickens her jerking of your cocks, that makes her smile like never before.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” she coos. “You want to cum all for me so much it’s pathetic. But I like it, so don’t you worry. And I won’t mind if you shower me with your hot cum either, so do it.”

The pace of her hand jerking you off matches the speed of the one she’s using on Lee. Your breaths and moans mix with his, and you’re driven on by the redheaded girl nodding in encouragement. Her little nods remind you of how she took your cock so effortlessly just a few minutes ago, and you’re getting worked up again.

“Getting excited, I see,” Xiaoting remarks, noting the thrusts the two of you fire into her closed fists. “Make sure it isn’t for nothing. Cum on my face, my body, I don’t care. Just do it.”

Her soft voice is addicting; how can it pronounce such bold, dirty words while keeping the same touch of innocence to it? You don’t know what or why, but you don’t care anyway. You’re only going after the high that’s so close you can taste it. Maybe Xiaoting can taste it. You wouldn’t want anything less than that.

On the other hand, you could go for more.

On Xiaoting’s other hand, Lee erupts. She closes her eyes in delight as he paints her with his overflowing semen. Her delicate face is caked with the bold fluid when it shouldn’t be—Xiaoting’s face should only ever be used in sweet, nostalgic commercials, not blasted with cum. But it is, and on the first impact, she immediately lets her tongue stick out. It’s the lewd expression on her face while doing it that finally makes you explode on her.

A lot of it ends up on her face, but the lucky droplets slide down to her mouth. Xiaoting’s heart bursts with satisfaction at the most inappropriate of things, and this is the highest on the list of them. To be showered with cum by two anonymous men who could do anything with her if they please makes her shiver. She wants it. She wants you most of all.

And so when she gets up, she says, with a tone that warns the two of you that consequences will be consequences if you refuse: “Let’s get out of here.”

You end up in another place: her room. This day has just been setting change after setting change. You’re grateful that this one is well-furnished, though—any other bed would break if Lee had thrown Xiaoting like that on it.

She likes it, however; she props herself up on the mattress after it went on with a wide smile. It’s more seductive than it should be, and for that reason, you pull off her shorts while Lee lifts her top over her body.

You’re not usually this confident. You like to stand at the side and let everything take its course. But Xiaoting just ignites something in you. She brings out a lust-crazed animal inside you that survives by fucking her numbless.

Maybe it’s her body that’s making you this way? Her arms and waist are thin, but her thighs are fuller than you expected. You part them and discover that her pussy is the same way. Her pink, puffy lips are soaked, and you’re here to clean her up.

“Oh my god, what are you doing… ahhh!”

Xiaoting’s cry approaches a scream as you tongue her fat pussy. First, you flick her clit with a sudden expertness. Then, you latch your lips around it and give her the most powerful suction you can muster. Her wetness instantly floods your face. When she throws her head back to open her mouth, Lee comes up to make sure it’s put to good use.

“Suck me off, Xiaoting,” he tells her. “Like a good girl.”

How could she be a good girl? How could she be a well-behaved little thing when your tongue is completely ruining her, slick against her lips then wild inside her twitching hole? Xiaoting doesn’t think she can, but this is what she’s dreamed of. This is what she wanted, so she’ll go through it gladly.

Lee learns from her habits at not taking “no” for an answer and dips his hips on her face. Her lips spread and take his cock fully. She whines and tries to relax her throat to take his length, but her neck still ends up with a bulge imprinted on its flesh.

Her engorged clit experiences the best of pleasure as your lips massage it. She finally screams and bucks her hips into your face, but you hold her down by her luscious thighs. Squeeze them, then spank them. There’s an unexpected voice inside you commanding you to pepper her creamy thighs with handprints again and again. You’d love to corrupt the paleness of her soft flesh with red. Mark her that way. Tell her that she got what she wanted. You want to see her twitch and cry and moan for more, and you want to give it to her since hell, who are you to reject Shen Xiaoting?

So, you give in to the voice. Let it control you and raise your hand to her right thigh. You squeeze in time with Lee’s thrusts into her mouth. Her lower body lifts off the bed, but you pin her down again anyway. As revenge, her thighs curl around your head and keep you locked to her center. But it can’t be revenge when you relish it, can it?

“Fuck, her mouth is so fucking good,” Lee groans. His balls hit Xiaoting right in her pretty face, and she makes sure to dedicate at least a few licks to fuel his lust. “Told you this vacation was gonna be good. Getting a pretty girl to use.”

What are you even supposed to say to that? Your fears get the best of you again. You’re afraid to sound off to Xiaoting if you say the wrong word. Her pretty cunt just addles your brain that no words can be formed. They translate into actions, like pulling your lips away from her pussy and rubbing at her clit.

“Hnnnn!” Xiaoting cries. Her hips gyrate, and it’s your job again to keep her on the bed. You can’t do anything about the wet sheets, though. You can’t stop Xiaoting’s violent squirting as your rubbing at her core grows more frequent and harsh.

Lee pulls out of her mouth. A rain of white damages her face, but it’s the very storm in which she screams to the fullest. She’s tapping out, unable to handle the furious flicks at her clit. She barely has the strength to lift herself up, but she tries anyway for the purpose of seeing how her squirt flashes out from under her engorged clit, where you thumb and lick energetically.

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t!” she says, eyes not bothering to open anymore. “Please make me cum more, I can’t take it!”

Her words contrast each other, but you take the initiative to avoid stopping. You slip two fingers inside her to fill her desperate pussy and place your lips on her nub. Your rhythms are mismatched, but they’re perfect enough to make Xiaoting’s toes curl.

“Look at these pretty tits,” Lee says. He comes up from behind Xiaoting to wrap his hands fully around her small, painted chest. Pinching her nipples, he kisses her neck. “So perfect. You like this, Xiaoting?”

What other answer is truthful except for the whiny, shouted “Yes!” she replies?

Xiaoting leans back into his chest and kisses him. While Lee toys with her sensitive nipples as she screams and begs, you suck her clit harshly. It pulses between your lips. Although it’s clear you’re draining her, stopping is an impossibility. You’re high on Xiaoting, and you want to do everything but come down.

“Cum— cumming, cumming so hard!” she mumbles. Lee’s kisses on her neck rake up her sensitivity. “Please make me cum, gonna cum again, too much, please!”

As she promised, your mouth is filled again with her sweet nectar. You could live on it; you could have Xiaoting sit on your face each day for her cum to heal your shortcomings as if you were a god. But you decide that’s enough for now, and sighs heavily in relief. She relies on your friend’s chest to keep herself up.

“Y-you eat me so well,” she says appreciatively. “You’re so good.”

Your blush is almost as red as her hair. “Thanks, I guess,” you respond bashfully.

“Hey, didn’t I fuck your mouth good, too?” Lee asks. He’s a little jealous hearing you get praised instead of him. Xiaoting is one of his heroes, that being the reason why he wants her approval, too.

Xiaoting, suddenly full of energy, sits up straight and taps her chin. “I don't know, can your dick even fill me properly?”

You raise your brows. It’s a solid reminder that you and Lee may have spent all night ruining her body, but she still is the puppeteer. Her status, wants, and pretty face drag you around like strings, having you do whatever she wants you to do. She’s just insanely good at making it seem that you could do whatever to her. If she weren’t an idol, she could have been an actress.

“Oh yeah?” Lee sits up, too, and tries to hide the offense in his face.

Xiaoting meets his gaze, unfaltering. “You heard me.”

“Alright then, I’ll fill you up,” he offers. He rises from the bed and stands with you. “He’ll fuck your mouth. Call it a spitroast, then we’ll see who’s better.”

Xiaoting’s eyes sparkle. He really doesn’t have a clue, does he? But he’s cute, and as much as she’d climb heights to avoid admitting it, he has a big cock. She can't wait for it to fill her up.

Excitement grips her skin as Lee pulls her up and bends her over the bed. His cock teases her hole. You take your place in front of Xiaoting.

The first spank resounds. She winces, but she's biting her lip. You can see every lewd expression she makes with your position before her. You slap your cock on her cheek, and she moans delightfully.

"That feels so good," she says, through ragged breaths. She runs a hand through her Ariel hair and smiles. Her grin glints with charm. "Come on, boys. Use me. You can do that for me, can't you? And—fuck."

Her pussy, still sensitive, reels helplessly. Lee has his cock penetrating her thighs, nudging her clit. It isn't even the real thing but she's already so weak.

"Your thighs are amazing, Xiaoting," he tells her.

"I know. Fuck them all you want, but don't forget to fill me up. You," she looks up at you and smirks, a fatal attack to your poor heart, "blow a big load in my mouth, okay?"

You nod. You brush your cockhead on her soft lips, then slowly enter her mouth. It's still as good as the first time, for her tongue knows how to work wonders on your length. She's all wet and hot, and although you envy Lee for having the chance to fuck her pussy, you think that this is good for now.

You and Lee pump into Xiaoting quickly. Both of her holes are incredibly wet. While her slick walls contract and hold on to his cock, her warm mouth moistens your length with sheen-coated pleasure. You're both knocking into her body, feeling her all over the place—her small bouncing tits, the ripples of her perfect ass, her wide hips; no place is left untouched.

And, despite the violence of the intercourse as you fuck Xiaoting on both ends, she likes it.

She doesn’t need to bob her head anymore to let your girth into her tight throat; Lee’s harsh thrusts from behind drive her mouth to swallow more of you. You’ve got your fingers in her hair, gathering them in one tight tail, so that there won’t be hindrance in facefucking her. So far, her face is the most perfect thing to fuck. Your hand, though a familiar dream, can’t compare to the way her eyes sparkle when her gaze meets yours, or the hollowing of her cheeks when she dares to push her limits.

Or maybe she’s just that pretty.

“Too much for you now, Xiaoting?” Lee asks. He’s gripping the soft cheeks of her bubble butt then teasing the puckered hole.

“You wish,” Xiaoting says, pulling away from your cock and jacking it off. You can’t really see her when she turns her head to your friend, but you can just tell that she’s got on the most bratty expression. Even her words alone can entice Lee to fuck the brat out of her.

“What about now?”

Xiaoting shimmies away after he slips a finger inside her tight asshole. Desperate not to show her vulnerability, she places her mouth on your cock again. Her moans reverberate and create breathy pleasure on your length, and you start to fuck her harder. You know she’s enjoying it; her face never shows anything other than bliss, and her moans increase despite her filled mouth.

All her holes are filled, and it’s going further than she’s ever dreamed of. Your touch is everywhere, and she tries to sink into it wherever it goes, but it keeps roaming. She can’t keep up with the thumb on her clit. Or the fingers spreading her virginal ass. Or your cock defiling her mouth. Or—

“More, f-fuck!”

The suction of her pretty lips increases. Xiaoting’s eyes are squeezed shut. The room fills with screams and she clenches down so hard that Lee fills her insides earlier than he’d like.

“Holy shit, that’s it, Xiaoting,” he says. His groans almost match her screams. “Fucking cum all over this cock.”

Their cum mixes together, a lewd liquid that drips down the thighs he fucked earlier. Her moans are strained cries, ones you muffle with a few remaining thrusts. She counts your thrusts just like she did whenever she dances at the practice room, timing her licks with them. More witness dribbles down her skin at your moans, and she evokes more out of you as she swallows your complete length all in one go. Restricted by the closeness of her throat, you’ve no choice but to cum inside her mouth.

“Xiao– Xiaoting…” You’ve lost all control over balance and logic. You sit back down heavily on the edge of the bed and try to keep up with your breath.

Xiaoting licks your cockhead one last time. She laughs when it twitches. Her lips are lined with white, hot cum. “You don’t talk much,” she says, then, as she pointedly looks at Lee, continues, “but you’re really cute.”

“That’s it.” Lee’s a jealous guy. He ’t take the poorly veiled method Xiaoting’s too good at: riling him up. He doesn’t let envy take hold of what he does, but now, lust has corrupted his mind. He was too turned on by the sight of Xiaoting’s perfect back curving with his thrusts, at the sloppy sounds of her blowjob. Everything about her oozes of sex, which is what he’s happy to do to her.

He throws her on the bed again. The soft landing doesn’t save the bounce of her ass, nor does it take away the pleasurable pain of Lee spreading her legs. Lee’s face is flushed with lust and jealousy. He takes it all out in slapping the puffy cunt the best he can.

Xiaoting cries out with satisfaction when he spanks her cunt, even parking her crotch further into his hand. “Fuck, yes, keep doing that!”

“Brat,” Lee spits. You’re silent, but you secretly agree with him, too. Xiaoting’s a bigger brat than she poses herself as.

“Alright,” she says. Raised brows, upturned smile, she quips: “Then fuck me like one.”

She isn’t denying it or anything, but she is running away from the consequences of being one. She’s gauging the reaction she wants from the two of you, making it seem like it’s the perfect thing to do to put her in her place when she’s only rising above. She seems to love the reaction Lee makes:

“I’ll go for her ass,” he says, pulling her into his lap. As he does, his cock slips inside the ringed hole. Xiaoting’s cracked gasp fills your ears. “You can have a turn on her bratty cunt.”

More sounds of lewdness and pleasure spill from her pretty mouth when Lee pushes his fingers inside her pussy and spreads the walls apart. You watch, with strange hooked fascination, as Xiaoting writhes at Lee scissoring his fingers inside her. Cum ribbons his fingers, but he keeps going, determined to batter Xiaoting down into a desperate passive. You’d say it’s working, for what it’s worth.

“Hnnn, so hot, I can’t—!” She looks down at her fingerfucked pussy and hisses. “Haah, fffuck, please don’t stop!”

Lee doesn’t stop for a while. He continues fucking her pussy with his digitis until she squirts. All the while her voice reaches new pitches. He ends with slapping her crotch over and over, wetting his hands with her liquid.

“Oh, oh god, so good!” she screams. You squeeze her taut nipples and rub your cockhead on her clit. “Keep doing that, I’m ‘bout to cum so hard!”

“Again?” you ask. She looks up at you, surprised you’re speaking, but her gaze breaks at your cock filling her entrance up. “You’re a little cumslut, aren’t you? It’s all you ever want to do: cum all over cock.”

Despite her surprise, she nods. It’s true, anyway, so what’s the point in denying it? And there’s really not much time to put up a fight when the two of you are filling both of her holes.

Her ass aches, but Lee’s in heaven—her tight little asshole is heaven itself. The cum and wetness from her pussy serve as good lubricant to slide in and out of her, to spread and slap her bouncing cheeks. You’re in heaven, too, despite the sin you make of thrusting into Xiaoting’s silken cunt like it depends on your life. At times, you pull out to rub your cock on her lips, enjoying the puffed texture of it and the whine of need she makes.

Kisses are everywhere. You pepper Xiaoting’s lips with them, too engaged with how soft her lips are to regard the fact that your friend’s literal cock has been there, and Lee kisses her arms. You’re both keen on ruining all of her body, and that involves marking her as your own. For this night, anyway, but the night is still young; while it lasts, you might as well up the tempo of your thrusts and grope her body as much as you like.

You find that the parts of her form that you appreciate the most are her face, thighs, and pussy. You loved to paint her pretty face with your load, corrupting the innocence it exudes. You relish thinking, too, of how her thighs served as earmuffs around your head and almost crushed you with how full and muscular they are. Plus, her pussy’s so perfect, so tight that you don’t think you’d want any other. It clenches and grips with every thrust, sends her hands flying to the sheets and on the side of Lee’s face.

Shen Xiaoting’s insatiable.

“So fucking big inside me!” she’s screaming, grabbing your ass so you’re compelled to ram deeper. Her eyes are wide, and her breaths barely come out anymore. “Fuck my little pussy with that big cock, please, da—”

Lee vents his anger out on her clit. He abuses it with firm, circular rubs that make Xiaoting’s hips twitch into your cock. There’s truly no escape from the pleasure—there’s her ass filled repeatedly, and the violent thrusts in her cunt. Now, there’s the pinching of her nipples and the rubs on her clit to deal with. She could scream and crawl and whine, but mercy isn’t in the dictionary for tonight. She’s going to be fucked hard, just the way she wanted, and she’ll have to cope with it one way or another.

You part her legs as far as they could go. You’re impressed at how flexible she is; her years as a dancer have certainly brought good fruit. With this position you’re able to hold her thighs as much as you want while fucking her cunt deeper. Lee’s given the chance to bounce her ass on him with no trouble. Lastly, Xiaoting’s put in a state of bliss—to the front, she’s filled and from the back, she is, too, and she doesn’t think she could hold on much longer. There’s too many things going on: her nipples being toyed with and squeezed, her thighs being spanked, her clit being assaulted. She’s so close to another orgasm that, like the others, have gone uncounted.

It’s messy when she cums. The whole thing has been fluids upon skin and skin upon fluids, but this one in particular is plentiful. IHer cum spurts everywhere in a profane splash right into your and on the sheets. She’s screaming, too, a bunch of words that can’t be deciphered properly. It sends off the right message, anyway: she’s cumming more.

You quickly move over to Xiaoting’s nipples when you feel your climax approaching. It’s induced by curiosity, and it gets the better of you; swipe your tip side to side on her small, perky nipples. The new sensation is strange, but it sets a flame of pleasure on your length. Xiaoting moans, guiding her breast to your cockhead, and chewing on Lee’s bottom lip.

Eventually, the stamina subsides, and all three of you collapse on the bed. No word is exchanged for a long time.

“You,” says Yujin menacingly, pointing accusingly at Xiaoting with a single index finger with utmost anger on her face, “are in so much trouble.”

Xiaoting wipes her hair down with a towel. It was difficult to shower when her legs could barely hold her up, but it’s done now. She has nothing to worry about. Technically, there is more to worry about: Yujin’s discovered what secret she’s been hiding, and she’s furious. But, to her surprise, she isn’t pent up about it. If anything, she’s rather proud.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies. A white lie for a dark sin is still not counted, right?

“I… I saw you,” Yujin goes on. She’s walking around with Xiaoting as the younger girl paces in the room. “I saw you get out with those two guys!”

“And why would you assume anything happened?”

“Because there’s fucking cum on the floor, Xiaoting!”

"Well." Xiaoting raises her hands in the air and sits down on the bed. "A girl’s gotta have fun.”

Unknown Number sent a message:

Hey ;)

If you want to do that again

You know where to call me

I’ll be waiting </3

#kpop smut #female idol smut #idol smut #girl group smut #kep1er smut #kepler smut #shen xiaoting smut #xiaoting smut #kep1er xiaoting smut #kepler xiaoting smut #male reader #x reader #pov smut #reader insert #idol x reader #idol x male reader #kofimission #commission

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mildangzz · 8 months

Text

camboy!jungwon

au where your sweet and cute co-worker has a side to him no one knows!!

warnings (?) - profanity, nsfw

>> this is gonna suck so bad because i haven’t written in forever!! sorry

—

“And that concludes today’s meeting, now get out.”

Everyone chuckles as your team leader waves his hand towards the door, everyone standing from their seats and gathering their things to leave. You stay in your spot for a minute or two, looking over the notes you made on your laptop. As secretary of one of the largest companies, it’s crucial that you keep note of absolutely everything that was talked about in meetings, organizing the next one and letting your team leader know when the next meeting was. It was quite taxing work, but it was all worth it since you were paid good. You were able to pay for anything you wanted, not having to worry about anything.

After a few minutes you finally get up and gather your things, turning on your heel quickly when you suddenly bump into someone who was watching over you.

“Ah, I’m so sorr-“ Your breath hitched when you realized who it was. Yang Jungwon. He was an intern at the office, being there for a couple months. He’s only been there for such little time yet nearly everyone was interested in him.

—

The day Jungwon entered the office was like no other: You enter the elevator, greet some co-workers and press the button to head to the floor you worked at. As you were scrolling through your phone, you heard small whispers behind you, barely making out “Really?” “Yes! He’s so hot too!” until the elevator opened. You exited and started heading to the break room for coffee when you see a new figure sitting by the table, legs crossed reading documents with a coffee in hand. You eyed him for a second, gulping when you noticed he was staring at you. He put the papers down and stood up to greet you, a bright smile appearing on his face as he walked up to you. You both introduced yourselves to each other, telling him to ask you for help if he needed any and to not be nervous at all. He let out soft giggles as he nodded, making his way back to his seat. Well, he sure was cute.

—

“Miss Y/N?”

You flinched as you looked up at him, smiling. How long were you lost in your thoughts for you don’t know, but Jungwon was closer to you than you remember. “Ah- Sorry, I dozed off for a second there.” You quickly exited the room and head towards your office, sighing out loud. He watched you as you left, slightly frowning at how sudden you left.

If you were being truly honest, he was just your type: pretty, nice, cute men who didn’t try too hard to be something they were not. After your first encounter with him, you found yourself staring at him during meetings, peeking through the break room window in hopes that he was there so you could talk to him. Well, he might be a permanent employee and you need to get along with your co-workers to be able to get work done, right?

Wrong! What started out as the smallest bit of interest turned into full on desire. You would find yourself fantasizing about him during your lunch break, thinking about how nice it’d feel to dig your nails into those broad shoulders of his, scratching his back as he fucked you like there was no tomorrow, crying out his name for more and more-

*Ring! Ring!*

Refocusing, you whine at the wetness you feel in your panties, your pussy throbbing at whatever you were imagining just now. You grab your phone and answer as you leave the office, finally heading home to “relax.”

—

You throw your bag and shoes on the floor, heading straight to your room when you realize what time it was. You glance at your clock and start up your computer. 11:57pm. Cursing at yourself, you quickly go to your favorite website, exhaling when you see “Stream Starting Soon!” on the screen.

Fantasizing about Jungwon has made you hornier more often than you’d like to admit, needing something more, not just the dildo or vibrator you had shoved in your drawer. So one night, you decided to search up some porn to help relieve yourself at least a little bit when you came upon an… interesting website. You click on the link and see multiple people on live, some being fucked into senseless, others fucking themselves with their toys or massaging their bodies for the camera. It didn’t seem that interesting until you saw the thumbnail for one. His body seemed perfect to you, so you clicked on it to see what he was doing. You ended up watching the entire stream, fingering yourself and cumming a couple times to the random figure on the screen. You pant as you type in the chat That was fucking amazing, sending some money as a thank you. You heard him chuckle and blow a kiss to the mic, that beautiful smile of his showing. “Such a big tip for just jerking myself on cam? What a pathetic whore.” He leaned back into the chair, head leaned back to show his adam’s apple and impecable jawline.

That wasn’t the only time you visited his stream. It became a daily thing — rushing home to log on and wait for the live to start, heart beating quickly as the familiar figure appears on screen, speaking directly to you whenever you sent him a tip.

Today was no different, you being the first to join the stream and sending a tip right away, him smiling once he saw you. “My favorite slut is here already? You’re always the first to join, sending me the biggest tips out of everyone, always thanking me. You’ve got manners, I love well-behaved whores.” You get so so wet at his words, pulling up your skirt as you start rubbing small circles on your clothed pussy, bitting onto your shirt.

He leans towards the camera, whispering into the mic, “What if I showed you just how thankful I am, princess?” He leaned back again, rubbing himself over his joggers as he groans softly. You moan out loud, slipping one finger in as you put your free hand on the keyboard.

> Please fuck me. I’ll do anything you want me to do.

He scoffs, tilting his head to the side. “Anything? You’re so fucking desperate, you know that? Fucking begging for my cock like that, are you not ashamed of yourself? What a whore, letting everyone watching this know how desperate you are.” You whine at his words, inserting another finger as he pulls down his pants, his cock standing erect as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight, pussy clenching over nothing.

> I don’t care, please just fuck me. I’ll be good, I swear.

He groans slightly, fucking into his hand harder as he pants. “Oh yeah? You want me to fuck into that pretty little cunt of yours? Want me to use you like my personal toy? I’ll fuck you until you can’t form a single thought, until all you can do is moan my name. Pretty little thing like you would fucking love that, yeah?”

You whine and grab your dildo, inserting it into your pussy quickly, slightly bouncing on your chair as you lean towards the screen. “Yes yes yes yes-“ You drool as the sight of him tensing up and moaning to the camera, closing your eyes as you imagine him pushing you over your office desk, ripping your skirt off and sliding his pants and boxers down. Inserting himself into you quickly, not bothering to let you adjust to his size as he rails into you, holding your hips tightly with one hand and the other holding your neck, pushing you deeper into the desk. The whole idea was enough to push you over the edge, cumming over your hand with a loud whine.

You look at the screen just in time to see him cum as well, the white liquid covering his lower-half and his hands. You send him a big tip again, reaching for some napkins to clean yourself up.

“Ah, that felt so good. Thank you for the big tip again, princess.” He sent a flying kiss to the camera, panting as he cleaned himself up quickly.

It’s a bit late at this point, feeling relaxed and exhausted, being unable to think straight. So what did you decide to do? Text Yang Jungwon of course!!

You reach for your phone, opening a message for him and taking a picture of yourself to send to him. He has to be a least a little bit interested in you, right? With the way he touched you, stared at you, smiled at you… There’s nothing wrong in trying, right?

*Ding!*

You look up at the screen, seeing him grab his phone to see what notification he received when he groans. He chuckles and shows the camera a picture he received, making sure to hide your face and anything identifiable. He starts slowly stroking himself again, zooming into the picture. “She can’t be serious, sending me something like that… If she knew how badly I wanted to fucking ruin her, fuck into her ‘til she can’t walk the next day at work, have my cum dripping down her thighs…”

You stayed frozen the entire time, not fully processing that what he showed was your picture. The picture you sent to Yang Jungwon. Your brain short circuits as you see him type on his phone, whining as he puts his phone down.

Just then you get a notification. You check it quickly and see;

> Miss Y/N? Are you sure that was meant for me? Haha… ^^

You take a picture of your screen, making sure to show your username and send it to him.

> You said you’ll fuck into me until I can’t walk at work, no?

Your heartbeat fastens as you watch him pick up the phone again, smirking and facing the camera as he quickly ends the stream.

*Ding!*

> Send me your address. Be there in ten.

#enhypen smut #yang jungwon #jungwon smut #yang jungwon smut #camboy

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Dirty Work 32

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Well, this escalated in a way I didn't plan.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is a low drone. You can hear his curt tone as he comes through the front door. His slither is met by a booming timbre that makes you jump. Thor speaks loudly, enough for some of his words to thunder through the walls that divide you.

Your ears pulse as you try not to listen. You know you shouldn’t. By Laufeyson’s reaction alone, you know his brother is less than welcome. Thor’s presence brings you little peace yourself as the memory of his creeping touch crawls up your spine.

You sit behind the laptop and try to focus on the screen. If you can distract yourself, it will be over soon enough and Thor will be gone. Maybe then, you can figure out why Mr. Laufeyson has turned to ice.

“...is she?” The two words echo and jar you from your failing battle.

Laufeyson’s response is short and sharp. You fill in the blanks of his deflection; ‘none of your concern’.

“...busy cleaning up your messes, eh?” Thor’s taunting question rolls upwards as footsteps hammer up the stairs, stopped halfway as another pair shuffle after them.

“I did not welcome you in,” Laufeyson is clearer now. You assume they are on the staircase with how their voices waft airily.

“Always the gracious host,” Thor counters.

“Do not lecture me on grace. Say what you’ve come to say and go. I’m busy–”

“Oh, yes, if I had a little maid like that, I’d always be busy as well–”

“Get on with it,” Laufeyson snarls.

Thor laughs heartily, “brother, one day you will see we are more alike than you care to accept. Maybe then you would see that it is the crux of our problems. You might even appreciate our shared tastes–”

“If you’ve only come to ramble, I’m not interested. I’ve spent enough time entertaining you lot–”

“You speak as if we are enemies,” Thor accuses, “you cannot waste time on family.”

“Ah, because kinship has always been sacred in your heart,” Laufeyson scoffs, “you are like a storm, you bluster but only make a mess. Say what you came to say and leave me be. I’ve work to do. Real work.”

“Well, if I am to deliver my message, I think both recipients should receive it, don’t you?”

“Say it,” Laufeyson hisses.

“But it is meant for both of you. The little maid as well–”

You sit up straight and tweak your head. You shouldn’t listen but you’re caught now. You cannot keep from overhearing.

“House manager,” Laufeyson girds, “I’m certain I can efficiently communicate whatever nonsense has drawn you here.”

“And they say I am stubborn,” Thor snorts, “Walpurgisnacht.”

“Walpurgisnacht?” Laufeyson echoes the single word.

“Surely you recall the old ways.”

“Don’t,” Laufeyson warns.

“Mother is having a celebration. Like when we were young. Father’s agreed to it.”

“She didn’t mention.”

“Ah, yes, well, you’ve much going on. She sent me to inquire after the little maid– house manager. She would require help with arranging the festivities.” Thor explains, “oh, and you’re invited too, I suppose.”

“She has her staff, does she not?”

“Frida is too old. She only serves tea and Gertrude’s never been very strong-minded. Mother needs input, not an empty vessel.”

“Charming,” Laufeyson remarks, "well, I will consider it. Next time, tell mother to call.”

“There will be many old faces. Many may even be happy to see you,” Thor goads.

“I wouldn’t expect so,” Laufeyson retorts, “must I ask you to leave anon?”

Another rolling guffaw fills the house. You hear a grunt from Laufeyson and a muted thump. Thor quiets with a sigh, “ah, fine, fine, I shall leave you to your little– house manager. You will tell her I say hello.”

Silence roils through the air. A scuff cuts through the tension and footfalls clamour down the stairs. The front door opens and closes, leaving you to wallow in the dark cloud left behind. Mr. Laufeyson’s long exhale blows up the staircase ahead of him and you listen to his approach.

You look at the door, expecting him to come through any moment. But it isn’t that one he opens. It’s the study door that slams with a terrible force. His growl permeates through and the adjoined door clicks as the lock is flicked into place. You stare at it and frown.

You don’t suppose his mood will thaw any time soon.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson does not emerge for supper. You barely eat anything yourself as anxiety tortures your stomach. You clean up after yourself and retreat upstairs.

You near the study, lingering before the door as you pluck up your courage. You tap softly on the wood. There’s no answer. You didn’t hear him go but maybe you missed it.

“I made dinner, Mr. Laufeyson. I’ve left you a plate in the oven,” you speak through the wood, to the ghost on the other side.

You traipse away in defeat. You’re entirely confused. What did you do so wrong? Even before his brother’s unprompted visit, Mr. Laufeyson was coolly apathetic. Yet that morning, in the shower, he’d been on fire, consuming you like flames.

Maybe you’re not good enough. Maybe you didn’t kiss him just right or make the noises he liked. Oh, but how are you supposed to know what to do?

You sit at the writing desk and tap your fingers on your chin. You squirm in your chair as the scene in the shower replays in your head. You tear it apart, trying to pick out the exact moment of your offense.

You shift on the seat and the throbbing pressure in your core ripples through you. Just the thought of his touch has you alight. You touch your hot cheeks and flutter your lashes. You shouldn’t be worried about all that, you should be working on that spread sheet.

You glance over at the study door. The house is stagnant once more. Just like those early days when you made your slow progress with a broom and mop. Something’s gone terribly wrong. Maybe… you should just leave.

You put your fingers mindlessly to the touch pad of the computer. You swirl around the cursor mindlessly. You blow out through your lips and sit up, another fraught peek towards the door.

You bring both your hands over the keyboard. No, you shouldn’t.

You need to figure this out. You need to know what you did, or didn’t do. You can be what he wants you to be, you have to. You have nothing else.

You type, then backspace, then type again. After several times, you hit search. You click through to a site with a black background and gasp at the obscene ads that fill the margins.

You bite down as you try to focus past the small thumbnails. You key into the search bar ‘shower’. You hover your finger over the enter key before you will yourself to hit it.

The search results are just as chaotic. You don’t know what you’re looking for. ‘Best Shower Scenes STEAMY’. Your insides tickle and you squeeze your thighs together. Invisible flames lick at you and cluster in your chest.

You mute the computer as the video loads. The house is so quiet that you’re aware of every creak and crack. You fidget as you sit through the ad of a woman giggling over a URL for meet-ups. You press your hands to your thigh, sitting forward so your weight rests on your pelvis, dampening the tingly heat.

The video begins. A woman with caramel coloured hair and a curvy body. You admire her figure and peer down at your own. Maybe that’s it, maybe you’re not hot enough? You remember how Mr. Laufeyson touched you all over, almost as if he was examining you. Did you disappoint?

You flick your eyes back up as a man enters and they step into the shower booth. You chew your lip as you fixate on his large dick. He’s very big but you think Mr. Laufeyson is too. You’re not sure. This isn’t helping, you still don’t understand anything.

They kiss and fondle each other. You lean forward, watching with a stitch between your brows. The woman drags her hands down the man’s body and gets to your knees. She pumps him with her hand and licks his tip, dragging her tongue down his length. He grabs her head and forces himself into her mouth.

She takes him greedily. Oh. That could be it. Last night, you were so afraid, and you got all teary, and you didn’t know what you were doing.

You watch her as she touches his sack, squeezing then works her hand in tandem with her mouth on his dick. You put your hand to the side of your neck and hold your breath. You wiggle on the chair, the friction making your own arousal more obvious.

Finally, the woman stands, the man lifting her by her hair. He spins her and bends her forward. She braces the wall and as he slaps her ass several times before gripping her hip. He’s so rough. You don’t know if you could handle that.

He slides into her and your mouth falls open. Her thighs quake and your own give a tremble. Your walls clench as the pressure knots in you. The thought of doing that with Mr. Laufeyson both frightens you and excites you.

You twiddle your fingers and blink at the screen. The furrow in your forehead deepens as you lean forward. You put your fingers along the touchpad but don’t press them down.

“Ahem,” Mr. Laufeyson startles you as he clears his throat.

You sit up and quickly hit the X in the corner. Your throat closes as you struggle to breathe, caught but not entirely. He stands in the doorway between the study and library. From that angle, he can’t see what’s on your screen.

“You are working hard,” he muses as he strides in with crossed arms.

“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily. You stare him in the face, too afraid to look anywhere else as your mind dares to imagine the shower again, both of you naked, this time, you’re bent over and he’s behind you. “Um, did you get your dinner?”

You close the laptop as you stand. You wince as the fabric of your panties clings to your wet cunt. You feel like he can see right through you.

“I’m not hungry,” he stops on the other side of the desk.

“Okay,” you swallow and your eyes flit side to side.

“I never told you to come out,” he drops his arms, placing his hand on the desk as he leans over it.

“Pardon?” You blink furiously.

“I said to remain in here until I told you it was safe. If you made my dinner, then you did not obey me.”

“I… Mr. Laufeyson, your brother’s gone–”

“And how could you know for sure if I did not confirm it?” He challenges with a wry tilt in his head. “I’ve been patient, pet, but I think you may require a different sort of discipline.”

“Mr. Laufeyson?” You babble, “I’m sorry–”

“Your apologies grow tiresome,” he huffs and stands straight. “Come here,” he points between him and the desk.

You put your head down and swiftly walk around the desk. He swirls his finger in the air and you turn your back to him. He backs away and rounds to the side of the desk.

“Hands down,” he nods to the desktop.

You press your palms flat, bent slightly at the waist. He considers you and strokes his chin with a hum. He circles the desk and you in a single, patient lap.

“Stay as you are.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you utter.

“Ah, no talking,” he warns, “remember your rules, pet.”

You gulp as he turns and struts away. Is it okay again? You can’t tell. He’s still rigid and painfully formal. He hasn’t touched you, he seems to be avoiding getting close. You stare at the wood beneath your hands and shiver.

You hear him in his study. You glance over as he appears in the door frame, his hands hidden behind him. He tuts. “Head forward.”

You look ahead and focus on the wall. He nears, his shadow skewed in the lamplight. He stands behind you, a foot away and he hums. He clucks and strolls around the desk to face you.

He pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a thick leather strap. The brown leather is faded and cracked. Your eyes round as you stare at it and he brings it taught between his hands.

“Flogging is historically a long held practice. For the monk in his self-flagellation, for the heathen in his cell, and… for the woman in her disobedience,” he explains as his lips curl. “Spare the rod, spoil the child…” He takes a breath, “and you, pet, are growing spoiled.”

Your lips part but you don’t speak. You must follow the rules. This is the test. If you fail this, then it’s over. If you fail, you have nothing.

He walks along the desk and rounds the corner, brushing by as he purrs, “remember your rules. Not a sound.”

He comes up behind you and you hold your breath. He tugs at the back of your skirt and shudders. He pulls the fabric above your ass, his hand trailing along the back of your panties. He hooks his finger in the elastic and tears them down to your thighs. You quiver and clench your jaw tight, fighting back a squeak.

He stretches the leather across your ass. It’s cool and smooth. You twitch as bumps rise across your skin. He pulls back and you lower your head. You wait. Nothing.

You cautiously raise your chin and look back. He snaps the whip across your ass as you do and you spasm with the hot flash of pain. He points to the wall in a wordless demand. Eye forward. You turn your attention back to the grey blue paint as your eyes glisten. He strikes you again, the agony scalding across the swell of your ass.

Your thighs shake as he pulls back again. You await a third but it never comes. You don’t dare move. He paces behind you. You watch his shadow cast before you and he moves abruptly forward. You bite your tongue as he lashes you again. Harder as he lets out a thick grunt.

Your hands slip and you fall forward. You plant your palms more firmly as you push yourself straight. A fourth comes and sends tendrils down to your toes. You hiss through your teeth, quaking, fighting not to collapse.

You deserve this. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve earned this.

A fifth and your knees knock together. You barely keep afoot as the sixth lands with extra bite. Seven, eight, nine… He lashes you in quick succession, as if he cannot stop himself. The tenth has you heaving, about to vomit with the pain.

He stops himself, his shadow holding up the stap. He lowers it and steps back. He sighs and turns away.

“Tomorrow you will pack for our departure,” he declares, “we leave on Friday.”

We? So you are to go with him. You don’t dare ask or say a single word. You stay as you are, shaking as you roll your eyes back against the flood.

“You will be on your best behaviour,” he warns as he nears the study door, “I trust this lesson will not be forgotten.”

He passes into the study and the door closes harshly. Your legs fold and collapse beneath you. You land in a heap, holding yourself off your ass as you whimper. You won’t ever forget.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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sweetandgentlecreature · 8 months

Note

May I request some jealous Henry with lots of fluff, please? 🥹❤️

You got it, babe! I may have taken a bit of a liberty with this one. I got a thought in my head and had to get it out, so I'm sorry if it wasn't quite what you'd imagined, lol. Thanks for stopping by!

Warnings: a little bit of angsty homesickness, some raunchy banter, and plenty of fluff in the form of a cow/bear/pig

"So...What are you wearing?"

"Henry!"

His laughter fills the room. Another night apart means another night alone in bed. Distance is always hard on a relationship, and though you've been through your share of time apart, it doesn't make it any easier this time around. At least it's just for a couple of weeks, while he's off running the press gauntlet for the newest season of The Witcher. It's bittersweet this time around. The last several months have been hard, watching him mourn the loss of a project he loved so much, and it sucks that you couldn't be there for him now. The plan was for him to go off and do everything abroad, then you'd meet back up and join him at the premiere in London. In the meantime though, all this waiting was driving you nuts.

The house is dark, except for the glow of the bedside lamp that illuminates the room that you're used to sharing with your man and his bear. Kal is used to tagging along for most adventures, and it's clear that he's a bit disappointed about having to stay behind as well. His ears perk up at the sound of his dad's voice, but doesn't bother to investigate further. He's far too comfy to move.

"Come on, love. Just a peek?"

Henry is a menace, and he knows what that does to you. With those beautiful eyes and that cheeky little grin, you could never tell him no. Throwing the blankets aside, you reach out to adjust the screen of your laptop to give him the perfect view of your sexiest fleece pajama bottoms.

"Hey!" he protests. "That's my shirt!"

"Yeah, and?

Even now, propped up in the bed of a hotel room a couple thousand miles away, Henry couldn't hide from you. The banter was just a facade, a distraction to keep you from seeing just how much he missed you. He thought he'd built a wall of stone to keep you from knowing, but in reality, it was just a pane of glass. One look and it shattered around him.

Henry sighs. He doesn't have to speak for you to know what he's feeling, because you feel it too. It's an odd sensation, feeling so homesick when you're still at home. You look down at the t-shirt you're wearing. The gray one he wore in the Durrell Challenge a few years back. Even though its been sitting in the back of the closet for a while, it still smells like him. That's why you picked it.

"What time is it there?" you ask, but it's clear by the look in his eyes just how tired he is. Must be getting pretty late, even for an insomniac gamer like him.

"Late. But I don't have anything planned for the morning, so don't worry."

You sit in silence for a moment, both of you laying on your sides facing each other just as you would if he were here with you now. When you open your mouth to speak, to finally admit just how much you miss him, you're cut short by a loud, rumbling snort from the foot of the bed. The culprit lets out a yawn ("Good yawn!") and a stretch ("Big stretch, bubba"), then works his way up the bed to nose at the keyboard a bit.

"Uh oh. We've woken the bear," you tease, rubbing the beast behind his ears as he circles the space he's made between you and the computer to rest in. Kal sniffs and sighs to voice his disappointment, then settles down again to snooze for a little while longer.

"Keeping Mumma company, I see," Henry smirks. "I might even let it slide that you've let him on the bed."

You shrug, grinning ear to ear as you ruffle Kal's mane. "When the wolf's away..."

That struck a nerve. Maybe it's the jetlag finally catching up to him, or maybe its the distance. You can see it in the shift in his eyes, the tense of his jaw. It makes you snort with laughter.

"Oh, come on, Cavill. Look at that face. You can't possibly be jealous of him. You'll get plenty of snuggles the moment you're home." Then you wink. "Snuggles, and then some."

The wrinkles on his brow disappear, and he realizes just how silly it is to be jealous of the dog. Better to be jealous of him than someone else, at least. Shaking his head, he laughs. What an idiot. Either way, it's good enough for now. Henry shifts to prop himself up on an elbow to look down at the screen. He's sure you'll make good on your promise. In the meantime...

"Now," he says with a grin. Good ole Henry, always back to business as per usual. "Care to flash me a tit?"

#requests #henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavil x reader

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neymarsangel · 10 months

Text

Pushover - Joao Felix x reader

Joao Felix x female!reader

Summary: The anger started when Joao overheard you and Mason discussing his relationship. The brunette tells you he hates you with every fibre of his being but a run-in with your ex during a match suggests something else. After another argument, he corners you in the bathrooms at the end-of-season awards to show you his true feelings.

Warnings: Cheating (ish), smut, unprotected (please wrap before you tap it), angst, swearing

Word Count: 5.3K

—

To put it plainly, Joao Felix was a pushover and it wasn’t just you who saw it, the whole Chelsea team did. Everyone had heard the rumours about him and his girlfriend, she’d cheated on him multiple times and yet he still forgave her, again and again… and again. He wasn’t exactly hard to look at either so you really couldn’t work out why he didn’t just dump her, anyone who was cheated on deserved better, especially Joao.

Working for Chelsea’s media team meant you saw hundreds of women come and go when it came to the lads, some you missed and others you didn’t. But even if you liked the girls or you didn’t, you always supported the boys. After all, they were like family to you, a dysfunctional one sure, but a family.

“I still can’t see why he’s with her…” Mason flashed Joao girlfriends Instagram your way. The pair of you sat at lunch together, he was busy stalking whereas you were attempting to meet a deadline. Glancing over you caught sight of his phone screen.

“I would say money but he’s fine in that department.” You replied, not caring about those around you who might pry an ear into your words. “Maybe he’s lonely.” Your eyes never left your laptop as you continued to work.

“Considering he spends most of his time with us I think he’s fine there.” Mason spared you a glance.

“Any of you ever spoken to him about it?” You asked, your eyes now looking at his phone. “Maybe that’ll sway his mind.”

“Maybe you could talk to him.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Maybe he needs a new woman to catch his eye.” Your eyes met Mason’s as he sent you a suggestive glance.

“I’d rather not.” Your eyes darted back to your laptop screen.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t date pushovers.” As you finished speaking a sudden slam on the table caught your and his attention. Joao was standing before you his face smoothed with rage as he slumped down into the chair opposite you. His eyes burned holes into your skin as he spoke.

“What are you working on?” He asked as if he hadn’t heard your entire conversation with Mason.

“Just a graphic for the game against Liverpool in a few days…” Your eyes were glued to his, you wanted to rip them away from his gaze but you were stuck like a deer in headlights.

“Hmm… are you planning to meet your ex after the game?” You nearly choked on his words.

You’d had what those would describe as a summer fling when he was at the England camp and you’d been asked to cover some work due to having minimal at Chelsea because of the summer break. It wasn’t a relationship, you wouldn’t even consider him an ex-boyfriend more just someone you used to sleep with. Only a few of the lads knew about it, Mason and Ben being the main two you’d told after you and Trent decided a relationship wasn’t in the cards for you.

Your glared at Mason who was now trying to hide himself behind his phone screen. “Did you tell him?”

“It may have slipped out… but it wasn’t just me! Ben was speaking about it too!”

You pulled your eyes away from Mason to focus back on Joao. “He isn’t my ex and my love life doesn’t concern you-”

“But mine concerns you.” He had a point. Could you really tell him he had no right to question you when you and Mason were spending your lunch discussing his love life?

“If anything we’re looking out for you.”

“By implying that I’m a pushover?”

“Her words, not mine!” Mason raised his hands in defence.

“Well, you do keep going back to someone whose favourite hobby is to publicly cheat on you.” You stepped in.

“At least someone wants me enough to be in a relationship, Trent clearly didn’t want you around.”

“Your girlfriend cheats on you if that’s what ‘wanted’ means I’d rather be alone.”

“She does have a point.” Mason looked between the two of you. “Look mate we just want the best for you -”

“You might be she doesn’t!” Joao looked at Mason as he spoke. “Ever since I joined she’s had it out for me!”

“That isn’t true!” You defended yourself, your tone turning sour.

“My first game and you couldn’t stop talking shit about me!”

“You got sent off in your first match meaning you couldn’t play for weeks! This season has been shit for Chelsea and the man they thought would be their knight in shining armour embarrassed them all!”

“We all make mistakes y/n, clearly you made one with Trent. Maybe if he wanted you, you wouldn’t be moping around with an ‘embarrassing team’.” He smirked at his words, something you couldn’t believe he even had the balls to do after looking at the state of his situation. Before you could even reply Joao grabbed the last of his lunch and stormed out of the lunch hall.

“Well…” Mason watched as Joao left. “That went well.”

“Why did you tell him about me and Trent?” Your brow arched as you spoke to the brunette.

“Look I’m sorry y/n, it just came out during training. You know I like to give Trent a hard time when we play after what happened between the two of you, I know you liked him too.” Mason gave you a sympathetic look as you tore your gaze away from him.

Mason had a point, part of you did wish it had worked out with Trent. Over the summer you’d spent every single day with one another and he treated you like you were his girlfriend. He showed you off to the guys and you’d even met his family but only days after the two of you had left the England summer camp he was pictured with another girl outside a club. Any hope you had of the two of you ever picking things back up was shattered the second you saw that photo. Mason and Ben were the only two who knew your feelings towards him but little did you know the two of them had let your true feelings slip to Joao.

—

You found yourself nearly missing the team bus to Liverpool. You clambered on just in time only to find that the only free seat was next to Joao. Everyone’s eyes drifted to you as you awkwardly wished a seat would randomly become free but your prayers were left unanswered.

“Do you want the window seat or the aisle seat?” The brunette spoke up, slicing through the tension.

“I- I don’t mind-” The last thing you wanted to do was to capture more attention on yourself.

“You can have the window.” Grabbing his phone and bag he stood up, towering over you as he let you slide in next to him. You didn’t need to meet his eyes to know he was staring as you slotted yourself into the window seat. You cleared your throat as you pulled out your laptop and started to work on something to distract yourself from the situation before you.

“What are you working on?” His question caught you off guard, after what happened a few days ago you never expected him to attempt to start a conversation with you.

“Just some plain graphics for the game.” You turned your laptop screen to him. Joao moved his head to get a better look at your work. “I leave the background blank as the photographers send us pictures throughout the game that we can put there and the numbers where the score would be are always left blank as we obviously don’t know what the score will be.” You looked over at him, your heart jumping as you realised he was already looking at you.

“Is that what you mainly do? Graphics?”

“Partly, I’ve filmed videos for the social media accounts, interviewed, edited, written captions, tweets, and even detailed a few apologies for some of the lads before. It’s basically a bit of everything.” You gave him a light smile.

“How long have you been working here?”

“Started stewarding when I was eighteen and then when I was twenty I finally got a chance to work full time with the media department so a few years now.” You were beyond confused as to why he was suddenly so curious about you. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Just thought if I have to be stuck with you for hours on end that I might as well start a conversation rather than give you the cold shoulder for the journey.”

“I thought you hated me?”

“I could say the same about you.” He glanced over at you before pulling out his AirPods. “Convinced you wanted me to fail-”

“I wouldn’t say fail… more hated the way you dealt with things.”

“Well, I hated the way you spoke about me.”

“That’s fair…” You looked up at him to be met with his smirking grin.

“Want one?” Offering you one of his AirPods with his cocky grin you took one and thanked him. He started playing music as he watched you work. The coach was quiet the most you could hear was the occasional chat from the lads and the typing of a few colleague's laptops. “Do you ever stop?” Joao asked out of the blue?”

“It’s hard to.” You spared a glance at him. “We don’t just post things we also have to monitor comments, unfortunately, a lot of football fans believe they have the right to abuse players and discriminate against other fans that aren’t like them. Not all fans are like that though, most of them really do care about you guys.”

“You can tell.” He smiled. “I’ve never heard so many chants about different players.”

“If you like it now then imagine what it’ll be like if you guys start winning.” You smirked at him which earnt you a laugh from him. Attempting to hide a yawn you finished your work before putting it back in your bag.

“Is that why you were late?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you oversleep?”

“That amongst other things.”

“Like?”

You knew he wanted to keep the conversation going so the pair of you didn’t descend into madness during the long journey. “My cat-”

“How can a cat make you late?” He shifted in his seat so he faced you, clearly intrigued by your story.

“Well the last thing I do before I leave is feed my cat -”

“What’s your cat called?” He asked.

“Frank.”

“After Lampard?” His face swelled with amusement.

“When I moved out my best friend got sick of me complaining about how much I missed my cats that lived with my parents so she decided to get me Frank and because I work for Chelsea she named him after Lampard, fitting now he’s taken over as a caretaker manager.”

“And how did he make you late?” His smile grew.

“As I said, the last thing I do before leaving is feed him. I was in my uniform and I was putting his food into his bowl when he jumped up and the food went all over me and well… I’m not exactly coming in smelling like tuna.” Joao couldn’t help but laugh at your words, catching the attention of Mason who was attempting to hear what the two of you were discussing.

“Well,” He shifted in his seat again before patting his shoulder. “My shoulders here if you want it.”

“You’d shrug me off just as I fall asleep.” You narrowed your gaze at him.

“I’m a prick but I’m not that bad.” A small smile fell on both your lips.

“Fine.” You didn’t want to argue, not again.

You knew you and Mason were in the wrong discussing his relationship but he was also in the wrong when he hit back at you with comments about you and Trent but you didn’t want to dwell on what happened any longer. You let your head fall on his shoulder, you felt Joao warm to your touch as you got comfortable. Mason couldn’t believe his eyes at what he was seeing, he couldn’t help but nudge Ben several times in the ribs to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Before you knew it, Joao was gently nudging you awake and the gates to the Liverpool ground were now behind you. You thanked him one last time before handing his airpod back to him. You left him with the rest of the boys as you followed the rest of your media colleagues towards the dugouts and journalism area. Everything ran smoothly despite your horrific morning, Joao was in the starting eleven which gave you the green light to use him as the main poster boy to announce the team news although you would’ve definitely picked Reece James if he wasn’t so nice to you.

In the Liverpool line-up was Trent but that didn’t surprise you. When the teams came out of the tunnel for the match Trent looked up to the journalism area. His eyes met yours and sent you a wink and a smirk, an expression that caught the attention of Joao. He knew how you felt towards Trent after the England Camp and he knew his expression was just a way to get to you after the press continued to pit Chelsea and Liverpool against one another after their horrific seasons.

The first half had ended goalless, Chelsea had a few decent chances, especially Joao but he was yet to get the ball in the back of the net. Within ten minutes of the second half, you watched Joao say something to Trent which had clearly rilled the scouser up. Trent shoved Joao and he quickly retaliated, shoving him back and shouting back at the man in red. The referee quickly ran up to the two of them whilst their teammates pulled them apart. They both received a yellow card and the game resumed.

You watched Joao carefully, wanting to tell him to lay off Trent because knowing his luck he’ll end up getting another yellow which will lead to a red. As if he could read your mind Joao eyed as Trent was given the ball, without thinking Joao threw himself at the lad, studs up causing Trent to fall to the ground in pain. Joao got up and yelled something at him as he clutched his ankle in pain. He stormed off, he knew it would be straight red. Liverpool fans booed and screamed at the Chelsea boy. The travelling Chelsea fans couldn’t believe what they’d seen, two red cards and he hadn’t even played a full season.

Joao stormed down the tunnel and threw the door of the changing rooms open before slumping down on the bench where his stuff lay. You excused yourself from the media spot before jogging down to the changing rooms after Joao. You opened the door to see him throwing his boots across the floor. His eyes met yours as you walked into the room.

“Haven’t you got graphics to make? Posts to make about me getting a red -”

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what? Get a red or put that prick in his place?” He huffed before continuing. “I saw the way he looked at you when we came through the tunnel. He was being a prick, Mason told me -”

“What did Mason tell you?” You snapped, your eyes glaring at the man.

“He told me you liked him and he treated you like you were his girlfriend then after deciding he didn’t want you he ran off with another girl.”

“I’ll kill him-”

“It’s not his fault, I asked what had happened. I shouldn’t have pressed him but I did.”

“Well, maybe Mason should keep his mouth shut.” Your eyes were still fixed on his. “And you should too, what did you say to him?”

“I didn’t say anything to him.”

“Don’t lie to me Joao, I saw you said something to him when you two got your first yellow cards.”

“It was nothing -”

“What did you say to him?” Your voice grew louder. “Joao-”

“I told him I was glad he didn’t want you because if he stayed with you then I wouldn’t get to hear you moaning around me every night.” He looked proud yet embarrassed at his words. He knew it would rial Trent up but he also knew a cheap joke at your expense would also piss you off.

“You’re not fucking serious.”

“y/n I’m sorry I -”

“Look I know I was a dickhead to you a few days ago but I was still right, you are a pushover, you even let Trent push you around all because he looked at me?” You stepped closer to him. “How did you ever make it professional when someone who looks at me pisses you off?”

“He made you uncomfortable, I wasn’t going to let it slide.”

“If it made you that annoyed you couldn’ve dealt with it off the pitch. The fans don’t deserve this and neither do the rest of the lads, it’s not fair!” You took a deep breath. “Why the sudden need to be a hero? I don’t need you to fight for me and make up something that would never happen between us -”

“You know all I was trying to do was to be nice!” He stood up and walked over to you, his breath on your face and his voice raising in aggression. “Most people would thank me for what I did.” He looked down at you. “You really think that wouldn’t happen between us either?” He now smirked at you, his hand reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear. “I could have you underneath me in a heartbeat.”

“I’d thank you if you didn’t get sent off or made some shitty cheap joke about me! And if you ever think I’d even go near you like that you are very much mistaken!”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “I get it but you aren’t perfect too!”

“I never claimed to be!”

“You sure act it, judging everyone else's relationships but god forbid someone makes a comment about yours!”

“We were never in a relationship!”

“I can see why…” He snapped, turning his back towards you as he threw his shirt over his head and discarded his shirt. You might have wanted to slap him back down to earth but you couldn’t help but spare a glance at him. How his girlfriend cheated on him you’d never know, the man was gorgeous.

—

Ever since yours and Joao’s dispute you’d hardly spoken to him unless you had to conduct an interview for Chelsea’s social media pages. Tonight was the end of the season awards and just like every single year you were attending. You made sure to match your dress to the exact shade of the Chelsea shirt. Your hair and make-up were done to perfection as you walked through the halls towards one of the lounges which was decorated with a million shades of blue and shades of silver and gold. Every year the hospitality team always outdone themselves and this year was no different.

Mason greeted you with open arms and so did his family. Most of the boys bought their family or partners along however one player was completely on his own and that was Joao. He was sat on one of the tables opposite you, his eyes were fixed on you but his expression was hard to read. Was he pissed off? Was he apologetic? You weren’t sure but one thing was for certain, he wouldn’t look away.

The night seemed to drag on, awards after awards were being dished out, some for credible achievements such as top goal scorer and others for more interesting achievements such as most pints downed after a win. You sat alongside Mason and his family when the awards ended. Music filled the lounge as everyone continued to socialise and drink the night away. You excused yourself from the table, getting sick of Joao watching you, you headed to the bathrooms to touch up your make-up but you didn’t realise someone was following you.

“You look beautiful.” The familiar sound of Joao’s voice made you jump. He was leaning against the wall of the bathrooms, his eyes raking over your body.

Joao regretted everything he’d said to you that day against Liverpool. The pair of you had spent many hours with one another in the media rooms, creating content for Chelsea and although you didn’t get off brilliantly due to his red card on his debut, he could tell you only wanted the best for everyone at the club, no matter if they were a player or simply cleaning staff. He’d come to his sense on the way to the Liverpool game that you were right about his relationship. Hearing your stories about your work and even your cat named after Frank made him think, perhaps that was the real reason why he went for Trent.

“You know this is the women’s bathroom.”

“I’m aware.” He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to you. “But my point still stands.”

“Thank you.”

“Can we talk?”

“In the women’s bathroom?”

“No time like the present.” He smirked. You were still facing the mirror and Joao was standing behind you, looking at you through the mirror. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

Huffing at his words you met his eyes briefly if the pair of you didn’t talk now the issue would never be resolved and if Joao wasn’t to sign permanently then you knew you’d never forgive yourself for the way the two of you ended things. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have called you a pushover.”

“But, I’m not sorry for what I said and did to Trent.” His hands snaked around your waist as he spoke. “Or for what I said about you.”

“Which part?” You set your lipgloss down, doing your best to pretend that you couldn’t feel his breath on your neck and his touch on your hips. “The part about me having you.”

“In your dreams.” You tried to step away but that would only push you closer to him. His grip tightened on your hips whilst his lips ghosted your neck. “You have a girlfriend-”

“No, I don’t.” He kissed your neck bore he spun you around to face him. “Why did you think I turned up alone?”

“Why?”

“Well… you may have been right besides… the ‘pushover’ has had someone else on his mind recently...”

Joao didn’t hesitate, his lips met yours, one hand cupped your cheek whilst the other went down to your thigh, pushing your dress to the side and allowed his hand to travel along your skin. You hesitated for a second before kissing him back. You couldn’t lie to yourself that Joao was hot, he was beautiful and if this was the way the two of you would make up then well… it was worth getting into a fight with him.

Your hands went to his hair, tugging on the strands as he allowed his hand to travel higher up your leg. “God you’re perfect.” His lips now travelled down your exposed neck, gently tugging on your skin as his grip on your leg tightened.

“You ruined my lipgloss.” You pouted as Joao pulled back to smirk at you.

“You’re lucky we’re in the stadium otherwise I would ruin more than your lipgloss.” His lips met yours once again. He tugged on your bottom lip, making you moan as he pulled the zip of your dress down. Jumping at the sudden gush of cold air against your back he smirked into the kiss before letting his warm hands trail down your back as he peeled the dress from your body. He let the front of it pool around your waist.

Your hands moved from his hair to his suit jacket, pushing it off his shoulders before grabbing his tie and pulling him back into a kiss. He lightly moaned as your nails raked across his white shirt. Joao’s hands went to your bra, unclasping it within seconds. He pulled away from the kiss as his hands cupped your boobs. “We should’ve argued sooner.”

Smiling at his words you watched as he took your nipple in his mouth whilst grabbing the other with his free hand. “Fuck…” You moaned, your legs parting so he could get closer to you. Your bliss was cut short when he moved away. His hands hooked themselves around the backs of your thighs.

“Jump.” He instructed you. Without hesitation, you jumped into his arms and he placed you on the bathroom counter. “Good girl.” His hands went to his own shirt, undoing the buttons so your hands could now trace his skin. Your nails raked his skin as Joao let his hands run up to your underwear.

“You do know someone could walk in right?” You spoke with a heavy breath.

“And?” He kissed you again. “Keep quiet and they won’t.”

“You don’t know that-”

“y/n… shut up and trust me.”

“Make me.” You teased but he didn’t need to be told twice. Joao moved your dress aside so he could see your underwear. Pushing your underwear aside he let his fingers tease your clit. The light touches sent butterflies through your stomach as Joao started to add pressure. Your head fell back at his movements. “Please…” You moaned as Joao watched you come undone around him. Leaving your clit he moved towards your entrance. Joao slowly pushed two fingers inside of you which earnt a sudden moan from you.

“I was right…” He breathed out, his hand pulling your face to look at him whilst he quickened his pace. “Your moans are beautiful.” Whilst his fingers fucked you his thumb went to your clit and started to bring you closer to your high.

“Fuck you.” You breathed out.

“Think I’m the one doing that love.”

You could feel his hard-on against your thigh which only made you wetter against his touch. Joao could feel you getting closer, your moans continued to grow louder as he quickened his pace. “You look so gorgeous about to come around me…”

“Please Joao… please…” You whined at his actions, your nails leaving red marks across his skin.

“Please what?” He taunted.

“Please let me come.”

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted yours as he kept adding pressure. “Come for me then.” He pressed his lips back onto yours as you came. You moaned into the kiss, your grip on his skin leaving darker marks which you knew wouldn’t fade for a while. “Such a good girl for me.” He kissed you before moving his fingers to his mouth so he could taste you. He savoured the moment before he quickly unbuckled his belt and allowed his cock to spring out.

He pumped his cock a few times whilst his free hand went to your face, his thumb traced across your bottom lip before he spoke. “As much as I want your mouth around me right now… I need to fuck you.”

He let his thumb fall into your mouth as he lined himself up and slowly pushed himself inside of you. Your face scrunched up at his size slowly pushing inside of you. Joao cupped your face whilst his free hand gripped your hip. “Is it too much?” He asked.

“No… just go slowly.”

Joao kissed you gently. “Of course my love.” Your heart fluttered at his nickname but that feeling soon spread to your stomach when you felt Joao pull out and thrust back inside. “You feel so good.” His head fell against yours, your lips ghosting one another as he repeated his actions. Feeling used to his size you allowed your leg to hook around his waist and pull him deeper into you.

“Faster…” You moaned in his ear. He didn’t need to be told twice. Pulling out he quickly slammed his hips back into yours and started to move at a quicker pace. “Fuck Joao…”

“My name sounds so pretty falling from your lips…” He moaned in your ear as he continued going faster. The pair of you knew that if it wasn't for the music in the lounge then everyone would have heard you. His fingers go back down to your clit and he quickly started to apply pressure to the bud. Your hands gripped onto the back of his neck, pulling him into a moaning kiss as he continued to fuck you faster.

Pulling away from the kiss Joao pulled out completely before pulling you off of the counter. With one last kiss on your lips, he spun you around so you were facing the mirror and bent you over. With a harsh smack to your ass, he quickly pulled your dress back up and around your hips before kicking your legs apart. Grabbing a fistful of your hair he forced you to look at yourself in the mirror.

“He could never fuck you as good as I can… could he?” He was evidently referring to Trent but your mind was too clouded with pleasure to even care. Joao lined himself up again, slowly letting the lip tease you. He couldn’t suppress the moan that fell from his lips at your wetness leaking onto him, he was so close but he wanted you for as long as he could. “Could he?” He repeated again.

“No…” You moaned out, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you again.

“Who fucks you this good?” He quickly slammed himself inside of you again, tugging on your hair so that you were leaning closer to him.

“You do…” You whispered.

Joao pulled out before slamming back in. “I can’t hear you…” He taunted you with his slow movements.

“You do Joao fuck!” You screamed as he started to fuck you again. His pace quickened as he pulled you against his chest, fucking you as faster. His hands reached around to play with your clit which only added to your pleasure. You started to grind back onto his cock as he slammed back inside of you. You could feel him stiffen inside of you which indicated he was close.

“Joao I’m gonna come…” You let your head fall as you felt your stomach tighten.

“Yeah? Come then baby… come all over my cock…”

You couldn’t hold back for much longer, you felt your high wash over you and that was all you needed for Joao to finish inside of you. He pulled you closer to him as he finished, his groans filling your ear as the two of you slowly came down from your high.

“So good for me.” He kissed your head as he slowly pulled out. He quickly got himself cleaned up before he helped you back into your clothes so you looked presentable to head back out to the party. “Beautiful.” He kissed your lips one last time. “I’ll head back out now, wait for a second and then follow me out. Just in case.” He turned on his heel but you called out to him before he left.

“Joao?” He turned to meet your gaze. “Who was the other person on your mind?”

He smiled at your words before replying. “Turn around and you’ll see her.”

If you turned around you’d be met with a mirror, and you were the only one in the bathroom.

#football imagine #football x reader #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix imagine #joao felix smut #joao felix fluff #joao felix fanfic #joao felix fic #joao felix drabble #football fanfic #football x y/n

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delulu-hours · 8 months

Text

My Scholar

Paring: Derek Morgan x Latina!reader

Summary: Derek's girl was his scholar. She was the perfect smart girl who always seemed to doubt her ability. So when she called, saying she had a possible theory to help with their case, he never once doubted her.

A/n: I hope you guys enjoy this little imagine. It takes place in season one episode 15.

"Morgan," Derek answered the ringing of his phone; his eyes didn't look away from the image of the dead woman on the screen staring back at him. He hadn't even looked to see who was calling him.

"Hey, cariño." The corner of his lips quirked upwards as he closed the laptop, getting the dead woman out of his mind. He glanced around and noticed the rest of his team was busy, so he got up and walked to get himself some coffee.

"Hey there, mama." Morgan could already picture the sweet smile that would pull at her lips and the slight rosy color that would adorn her cheeks. "Everything okay?"

"Peachy," The voice on the other end hummed. "I just missed you." He hummed, knowing that they hadn't been able to spend much time with each other. Working at the BAU, Morgan was always traveling and working cases, which involved being away for long periods. It also didn't help that his girlfriend was still finishing her schooling.

"How are classes going?" He watched as the mug slowly filled with the black coffee. A groan on the other end caused him to chuckle.

"I'm calling for that reason." He raised an eyebrow before taking the mug that was filled with coffee. "I know you're busy working on the Keystone killer, but I think there's something that I might be able to help you with." He could hear some flipping of papers and a few Spanish curse words.

"Y/n," Derek stopped what he was doing and shifted his phone back in his hands. "What are you talking about, beautiful?" He knew his girl was on her way to working for a Ph.D. in Criminology and Criminal Justice. A smart pretty woman he knew so he wasn't going to stop her.

"His MO has changed since he started up killing," He wasn't surprised that she was keeping up with the case of the Keystone Killer. "I know. Before you say anything, I got some more information from the police as I managed to get my professor to help get more updated information for my essay." He hummed to let her know he was listening as she continued. "Well, what if he changed his MO because he had to? The change came from the need to adapt."

"Hold up," Morgan stopped her from rambling. "You're onto something, Scholar. Just hold that pretty little thought of yours. The team might need to hear this."

"Wait, qué? (what)" She stumbled over her words. "No, Derek, you tell them. Besides, it's just a thought; I don't even know how accurate this thought is."

"You need to give yourself more credit than that," He lingered behind the door that played a barrier between his team and him. "You are a set of fresh eyes. Trust me when I say that your idea would make sense, but I need you to be the one to explain this." It was quiet, and he felt Hotch looking at him as he opened the door but didn't enter.

"Fine." He smirked as he walked in. All eyes were now on him.

"I think I got us something that would help." Derek moved the phone from his ear before placing the call on speaker. "Do your magic, beautiful." He sat in his seat as he placed the phone on the table. He ignored the confusion from everyone as his girl took a deep breath.

"Okay, uhm, where do I start?" The voice was soft, and the rest of the team looked confused. They half expected to hear Garcia's voice by Morgan's choice of words. They only knew one person he used those nicknames for. "This might seem un poco raro (a little weird), but I've been studying the case of the Keystone Killer, and with the recent evidence gathered, it's evident that the unsub had changed his MO. Before it was a rope, which gave him the pleasure to be involved and feel his power over his victims. It also explains why he strangled his victims. "

"Why?" Gideon spoke up, trying to find where this unknown person was trying to get at. "Why change his MO if he isn't getting anything out of it."

"That was exactly what I thought when he used the flex cuffs and suffocation. That also includes taking in why he had began to knock some of his recent victims out as well, which he hadn't done before." Some typing could be heard before a small ping took over Morgan's phone. "I asked myself why he knocked out the victims when he didn't have an issue over it before, and it made me realize that maybe he had no choice. Before, he could overpower his victims, but what if now he couldn't? I mean, he could've sustained some injury that left him weak or something. A stroke. Maybe even a heart disease."

"That would explain the sudden need to use the flex cuffs and why he began suffocating his victims." Reid nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake." Ellie sounded impressed as they took in this new information.

"Exactamente! (exactly)" They heard a slight finger snap on the other end of the phone. Morgan couldn't help but shake his head as he took in his girl's excitement. "I mean, think about it; why else would he change what made him get off? The feeling of having the lives of his victims slowly leave their bodies as he strangled them. Seeing the fear in their eyes until they died and the power it gave him." If they could see the girl now, they would see the mess she was surrounded by. The papers on the bed, open books, and photos on the ground. She had been following this case since his latest victim, and it didn't help that she had written about the Keystone Killer in one of her previous assignments. "If he did sustain some sort of injury, there has to be some record of it in the hospital."

"So what are we talking about," Derek asked. "This must have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia."

"That's a lot of hospital records." Reid shook his head

"That is where I got stuck." She let out a small huff.

"Call our girl Friday." Gideon pointed at Derek, who gave him a short nod. Derek wasted no time picking up his phone and leaving the room. He took her off of speaker and placed the phone to his ear.

"You're a genius, baby." He placed a kiss on the phone, which earned him a laugh that he loved.

"I'm glad I could be of some help, cariño."

"I'll call you later when your theory leads us to the scumbag."

"Well, I hope you catch him and hurry back home. I miss my handsome man." He smiled as he heard the slight pout in her voice.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n messed with the sweater hem I was waiting for as she waited for Morgan. He texted her, saying he wanted her to meet with him later tonight at his job. She leaned on her car as she bit my lip, nervous to be here. "There she is." She perked up at his voice and turned around. A smile tugged at her lips as she rushed over to him, throwing herself onto him and pulling him into a hug. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she peppered him with kisses as he chuckled. A slight stumble backward, but he had a hand on her thigh, close to her ass.

"I missed you, mi amor. (my love)" She placed a kiss on his lips. A hum vibrated through her as he kissed her back. His touch was soft as he took her in. The way she felt in his arms.

"You don't say." He pulled back a bit and smirked at her. She saw the amusement dancing in those beautiful eyes as he placed his forehead on hers. She gave him a big smile as she closed her eyes, soaking in his touch and his body's warmth. She had missed him so much. Morgan couldn't say much himself as he, too, missed his girl. He missed her smile. The soft touches he enjoyed after the long days at the office. Or the way she bit her lip as she was focused on her schoolwork. "I missed you too, Angel."

"Ready to go?" She asked as she unwrapped her legs from him. As much as Morgan didn't want to let her go, he had called her for a reason.

"Actually, some people would like to meet you." He took her hand in his and pulled her with him.

"A mí? (me)" He smirked at the confused look on her face as she followed behind him.

"Yes, you." Since solving the case, his team had been bugging him about the unknown girl who helped with the case. She frowned a bit and looked at the building they were walking to. "Don't think too hard with the pretty head of yours." He nudged her with his shoulder, and she rolled her eyes at him. It was a mutual decision to keep their relationship private, so Morgan wasn't surprised that his team was confused and wanted to know who she was. He also had no intentions of hiding their relationship. They never asked him about it, and he never bothered to bring it up.

"Oh, tu mamá me llamó. (your mom called me)" She slightly swung their arms back and forth as they kept walking.

"My mom?" Dating a little over a year allowed Morgan to understand enough Spanish to connect the dots. Y/n speaks a lot when they're together; however, it is usually mixed with English.

"Yeah, She wanted to know if we were still going down Jamacia later this year. I told her we planned to go, but it wasn't certain yet."

"Was that it?" She nodded, and Derek hummed.

~~~~~~~~~

His team watched Morgan talk to the girl who stood close to him. Their hands interlaced as Derek's smile grew from whatever she said. "Derek is down bad." JJ looked amused as she took in this new side of her teammate.

"Did someone tell Garica?" Ellie asked softly as she glanced around, not finding the blonde anywhere. "I'm sure she'd love to meet the mystery woman." Reid shook his head before he could say anything. Morgan and the mystery women neared them.

"Guys, I would like to introduce you to my beautiful, sweet, intelligent girl, Y/n." The woman beside Morgan gave them a bashful smile as a slight blush dusted her cheeks, embarrassed by the compliment her boyfriend showered her with.

"It's nice to meet you." JJ was the first to hold his hand out to her. "Heard you were of great help with the case." Y/n took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Encantada, (nice to meet you)" She nodded at them as she took in the rest of Derek's team. She could tell who they all were just by how Morgan described them. "I didn't do much, but I was glad my theory helped JJ." JJ looked slightly surprised. She knew who she was. Y/n took in the man who sat on his chair; his was longer than the rest of the men in the team and tucked behind his ear. As expected, he wore a white button-up shirt with a black tie and a burgundy sweater vest. She knew right away that man was Spencer Reid.

"You mentioned that you had been working on the Keystone Killer case," Reid shifted in his seat. "Why is that?"

"It was for my class." She smiled at Reid. "I've written an essay about him before, so when he started killing again, I decided to follow along and use it for another assignment." She could tell that Reid was intrigued with what she was saying. "If you like Spencer, I can have Morgan give it to you when I finish it."

"Really?" He sat up straight in his seat. "I'd love to see what you have down. I read the small portion you sent Morgan and thought it was interesting."

"Claro que sí. (of course)" She nodded, delighted to share her work with him. She knew she would get along well if Reid were anything Derek described him as. Morgan watched, pleased to see his girl getting along with his team.

"Look at this," Derek threw an arm around her. "My nerd and pretty boy geeking out." A small groan left his lips as Y/n elbowed him in the stomach. His team was amused as she rolled her eyes at him, knowing she didn't even hit him that hard.

"Don't be jealous that they like me better than you, amor." She teased back at him. "Everyone loves me."

"Y/n?!" A cheer caused her to turn around as she took in the blonde-haired girl who rushed over to her.

"Pen!" She held her arms open as Penelope hugged her tightly. "It's good to see you again." She placed a friendly kiss on her cheeks as she smiled at her.

"Derek didn't mention you were stopping by!" She gushed as she shot a slight glare at Derek. Derek just chuckled as he knew how much Garcia adored his girl. He didn't blame her. Y/n was amazing. Truly.

"Well, Miss, Y/n," Hotch's voice had Y/n look over at him, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at her. "Good work with the case." He took his briefcase and looked at the rest of his team. "I'm going to head out for the night." They said their byes and watched him leave.

"It was a pleasure working with you briefly." Gideon gave her a slight nod as he followed Hotch, leaving for the day. The smile never left Y/n lips as she looked at Morgan, who gave her a wink.

"Told ya you did good." He gently rubbed her cheek. "My scholar."

#Derek morgan #derek #morgan #criminal minds derek #criminal minds derek morgan #criminal minds morgan #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan x reader

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