#he's like curt but polite

[arkos404]

i think those 'reigen fearing for his life when with ritsu' posts so funny bc one of the most important things in their dynamic is the fact that reigen is an adult and ritsu is 13

like, yeah i see where youre coming from but all i can see is this

[moe-broey]

Yeah .

[joonberriess]

t h e b o y i s m i n e

⋆ TAGS — mean!jk, heavy degradation, sub!oc vibes, fingering, creampiess, pussy eating, oc is super sensitive hehe, cock warming in the car, ass play(?), intense cow girl moment, dirty talk, mentions of squirting(?), messy sex, oc is cunty (CUNT CUNT CUNT), RED MF FLAGS, jk ain’t shit and neither is oc, mentions of cheating, possessive!oc don’t play about her bestie, joon n oc moment bc why not, she’s lowkey a bimbo, jk likes mocking oc, nasty sex, jk’s a simp for his bestie, oc whines a lot lol, 4liferrrsssss, oc messy asf but jk is too

⋆ WORD COUNT — 6.2 k

‘Something’s not right.’ Is what Sujin begins to think right off the bat when her boyfriend brings her to meet his “best friend”. Sujin already knew that Jungkook had a “girl” best friend wayy before she even talked to the man. All her friends were against it when she told them she was interested in Jungkook.

“No girl, you’re gonna regret it like big time. That man is going to have you looking like a fool.” They’d say but Sujin seemed hard of hearing..

Sujin knew what she was getting into but nothing could have prepared her for the hot piping mess being served in front of her face. For fucks sake her boyfriend couldn’t even fucking sit next to her because he chose to sit with “y/n”. Sujin wants to think it’s a childhood thing, maybe that’s why they’re so unnaturally close.

“Oh.” Sujin says when y/n tells her that no, they in fact met almost two years ago as college freshmans. (Sujin’s beginning to run out of ideas to make up in her head so she doesn’t go insane over the sight of you casually touching her boyfriend and Jungkook letting it happen?) Jungkook even helps separate your perilla leaf with his chopsticks.

What are you a child? Sujin’s NOT liking this so far.

“So,” Sujin smiles as politely as she can muster, “how’d you guys meet?”

You smile softly back at her, “My brother has a frat house and Jungkook happened to join, we only met cause my brother was forcing his frat guys to help me move into my new apartment. He made them do it shirtless which was pretty funny.”

Sujin nods slowly, “Ohh.. how nice. So like you guys started hanging out or what’s the deal?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I saw her manga books and we bonded over that,” he keeps it curt, like he’s not interested in talking to her (his own girlfriend), “we started chilling and yeah.” Sujin fucking hates when he talks to her like he’s bored already.

“He kept saying I reminded him of Bayonetta!” You pipe back in with a dreamy smile.

“Uh-huh, Bayonetta..” Sujin clears her throat and shifts around in her seat, “Uhh well, I think it’s getting a bit late no? Kinda time for me to get going.”

You purse your lips in a soft pout and nod at her, “I see.. I hope to see you again, you’re really nice and pretty.” You coo, “Jungkookie’s super lucky to have you,” Sujin appreciates your sincerity but she’s not so sure if she can look past how close you are with her boyfriend.

“You didn’t bring your car didn’t you?” Jungkook suddenly says, “C’mon I’ll drive you.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you take.

Sujin’s jaw nearly drops as HER boyfriend slings your purse over his shoulder and helps you up, guiding you out of the booth by a hand to your back.

“Jungkook.” Sujin snaps, “I think she’s got it don’t you think?” Her boyfriend turns to look at her, and proceeds to give her the meanest fucking mug ever. Like if she had the audacity to ruin whatever the fuck was happening in front her. “What?” Sujin raises a brow.

You look up at Jungkook with those stupid puppy eyes of yours, “I can call an uber no biggie.” You say softly.

“Hey, since our meeting was cut so short, how bout I pay for it, yeah?” Sujin smiles while whipping her phone out and pressing ‘request’, like she didn’t have that ride ready to order.

Jungkook does that thing when he’s pissed where he pokes his tongue inside his cheek, he has the audacity to have a staredown with her but Sujin doesn’t back down. “..Yeah, I’ll walk you out then y/n.”

“It was nice meeting you.” You softly say while hugging Sujin tightly before waltzing out the door with Jungkook’s hand over your hip.

Sujin has to pinch the bridge of her nose, on one hand you’re the sweetest thing ever but c’mon you can’t be THAT dense can you? Sujin would have liked you in another world where you weren’t trying to get with her boyfriend.

Sujin looks out of the window and sees Jungkook leaning against the car door while you slip into the back. He’s telling you something and you’re looking at him like he’s hung the fucking stars or something. Luckily nothing happens and Jungkook closes the door before stepping back to watch the car take off.

“Fucking prick.” Sujin mutters under her breath as she steps out with a pissed look. “What the fuck was that Jungkook, huh? You gonna sit there and lie to my face and tell me not to worry about her? Answer me.” She lightly hits his arm.

Jungkook sighs deeply, “What? Fuck are you on right now, the night was going so good I don’t see the problem here.”

His nonchalant attitude makes her seethe even more, “Jungkook, she has no fucking boundaries and you don’t seem to give a shit about that, I’m the GIRLFRIEND here but this fucking turned into me meeting you two instead of her meeting me. It’s fucking humiliating watching her put hands on my boyfriend and worse that you chose to sit with her.”

“And yet you knew I was friends with her. Literally that’s everything everyone’s been telling you before I brought you here to meet her, be prepared for how close y/n is with me. This isn’t brand new to you Sujin.” Jungkook replies while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.

Sujin watches in disbelief as he lights it and takes a drag like nothing, “That doesn’t make it okay for her to do that though. Close or not I don’t give a fuck Jungkook, you’re either with me or you’re not.” She snaps, “So tell me now before I waste my fucking time.”

Jungkook takes his sweet time, puffing away as he watches the smoke disappear into the night sky, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Sujin tilts her head, “Okay, what?”

“It’s over.” And just like that Sujin’s jaw drops for real this time, she’s utterly gagged into silence as she watches her (now) ex-boyfriend stomp out the cigarette before turning to her with a sinister look in his eye, “Bye.” He passes without as much as a glance, leaving her silent.

Sujin turns her head and watches him leave, “What the fuck.” She whispers.

.

(Not even an hour later.)

“Okay, this one or this one?” You held up two different babydoll dresses—one white with delicate frills, the other silk but more of a bodycon-type but it had a cute bow on it so why not.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flick up from his phone, he stares at both of the dresses for a cool minute before nodding his head, “The white one.” He leans back with one arm on the bed and both legs spread apart (gosh him and his manspreading).

“I thought so too!” You happily say and carelessly toss it into the pile of clothes lying in your open suitcase, “Okay now help me decide between my sneakers or my ballet flats?” He doesn’t even answer cause he’s busy laughing at something on his phone.

“Jungkooookkk,” you huff irritably but this man does not look up. He just toys with his stupid lip ring while smiling down at his screen.

You let the shoes hit the ground as you quietly saunter over, slipping right into his lap with practiced ease. He doesn’t react because this is an all too familiar scene for him. He hooks his arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder, still scrolling mindlessly. “What’s up? Hm.” He murmurs.

“I needed your help choosing which shoes I should take.” You hide your face in his neck and lay one tiny kiss on it, “You’re mean.”

“Am I?” Jungkook brings you down with him when he slowly lays back on the bed. He tosses his phone somewhere and rests his arm behind his head. His free hand strokes your backside, cheekily stopping right above your ass before repeating.

Your hands settle over his toned stomach where his shirt has ridden up revealing his beautiful physique underneath. His damn Calvin Klein boxers hug him just right too, hanging low over his hips where a small amount of hair leads down…you know where..

“Mm-hm, ‘s not nice to ignore me.” You nod with a dreamy look, pillowy lips pursed (which make them much more alluring in Jungkook’s humble opinion).

Jungkook hums again and runs his hand over your ass, landing small little pats of appreciation here ‘n there, “It isn’t huh,” he trails off quietly while tattooed fingers make work of the bow tied around the front of your shorts.

You shake your head and come down so that you’re chest to chest with Jungkook, face leveled with his as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. “No,” you softly say, nimble fingers creeping under his shirt to trail up his middle with light feathery touches.

“No.” He softly mimics in a high-pitched tone that’s meant to sound like you, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, but you might wanna get a move on though cause the guys are gonna be here any minute now ‘n you don’t want them to come in and see what a desperate little thing you are? No huh,” he mock pouts while tapping your cheek.

“You’re mean! I’m not talking to you for ten whole minutes.” You huff angrily and get off his lap, “Stop laughing, it's not funny.” You’re whining again before you can even stop yourself. It makes him double over in laughter, shoulders shaking and all too.

“My bad, my bad, I didn’t realize you were still upset over the shoes.” He chuckles while sitting back up with messy hair, “C’mere I’ll make it better.” He waves his hand, “C’mere! I’m not joking!” He laughs because you look at him incredulously.

You fold your arms over your chest and turn away, “No, I have to pack remember?” You’re shoving clothes into your suitcase with a quiet huff.

“Yeah, yeah.” You don’t even notice when he comes up behind and hauls you up into his arms. Jungkook tosses you on the bed like nothing causing you to yelp in surprise as your body bounces off the mattress a little, “If I give you a kiss will you quit your fuckin’ pouting?” He smirks.

You nod vigorously, “I want one here, here, and here.” You tap different areas on your face.

“I said one, not fucking five,” he snorts while peppering your face in small smooches regardless because he could never resist a pretty girl like you, “dumb little thing you are.”

“They don’t count as real kisses.” You smugly reply.

Jungkook smirks, “Oh, and what does hm? Give your Jungkookie a kiss and show me.” Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.

You’re lips locked, softly moaning as he kisses the fuck out of you. It’s the way his lips glide over yours so smoothly like you’re meant to be kissing. All you can really do is dreamily sigh while his tongue runs over the seam of your lips. Of course you let him in and the kiss gets filthier if possible.

You feel his hand slide up your back slowly until he’s hooking his finger under the strap of your flimsy sleep top. He watches in hunger as your tit slips out from under the top, perky nipple already hard as he leans down to wrap his lips around it. The pleasure is hot when his tongue presses down on the bud, he has you whimpering quietly while burying your fingers through his hair.

“Mmm–Jungkook, wait,” you breathlessly sigh while pushing his face away, “Sujin.” You softly say while playing with his hair, “What ‘bout her?”

Jungkook stares back up at you through hooded eyes, “Who?” He replies to which you grin back, “Hm, just let me enjoy your tits in peace.” He crudely mumbles before taking your nipple back into his hot mouth.

He fondles and squeezes your other tit while sucking on your rather sensitive teat. The heat between your legs is unbearable, Jungkook knew damn well why you hated having your nipples played with yet he carried on without a care. Your poor clit throbbed from neglect and your pussy was slicking up by the second, you fear a glob would slip out if he dared to switch your positions.

“J-Jungkook..!” You huff and press your thighs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat.

He pinches hard causing you to whine, it doesn’t stop him because he’s then using a hint of teeth on your sensitive bud. “Oh..!” Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed, thighs shaky and wobbly.

Jungkook pulls away with a string of slick connecting to your nipple, “Turn over baby,” he smacks your ass hard and jiggles your cheek, “arch that pretty back for me, yeahh like that—low.” He darkly comments while watching you turn over with your hips raised high and front flat to the bed.

He shuffles around and gets behind you holding you steady with a hand to your hip. “Pull ‘em to the side,” he says while lazily pushing his sweats down, shoving them low enough till they’re right under his balls, “How desperate are you, hm? How bad do you want this cock baby?” He grins while slapping the tip through your dewy sticky folds.

You bite your lip and reach behind you to hold yourself open for him, “Bad, need it so bad Jungkookie..feel so empty without it.” You pout while pushing back until his cock gets trapped between your thighs, the thick shaft pressing right up against your throbbing little clit.

“Yeah?” Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna let me have it?” He murmurs as his cock slides through the mess between your thighs, globs of slick coating the shaft.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod.

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a rough smack to your ass, “Push me in baby.”

You reach back to rub his cock through your folds, tapping the tip against your needy hole until it catches. Your breath hitches as the tip pops in, he doesn’t make a move to shove himself deeper or anything—he stays perfectly still.

“Jungkook!” You turn to glare back at him, “S-Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not doing anything, if you want it you know what to do.” Jungkook grins while biting his lip, “You know what I wanna see baby, don’t play dumb.”

You grumble under your breath and slowly push your hips back until your ass meets his pelvis. There’s a low squelch as the rest of his cock slips in and as much as you would’ve loved for him to fuck you, this was also good. You pant hotly into the pillow and wiggle around with soft little ‘mm’s as Jungkook rubs his hand over your hip and holds you steady.

“There you go, bring it back for me,” he huskily mumbles while watching the ripple of your cheeks jiggle each time your ass meets his pelvis.

Little clapping noises begin to rise subtly as your pace gets quicker and quicker. You meet him thrust for thrust, there’s a low fopping sound as his balls make contact with your puckered lips, pressing right up against you each time you bottom out.

Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the sight of your pretty pink rim hugging his cock tight each time he backstrokes. His cock is covered in a sheen of slick and he swears every time he pushes back in he comes back out with more.

“So messy,” he lays his thumb over your other puckered hole, “hear that?” He grunts, “Sloppy lil cunt taking me so well, got you creaming for me.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches when his thumb accidentally slips through the tight barrier and into your ass. You loudly mewl and buck your hips in surprise, it doesn’t hurt but it feels weird..weird in a good way though.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” He licks his lips, “Baby loves having her holes filled up doesn’t she?”

You moan in response and bury your face in the pillow with muffled cries. The pleasure shoots up your spine and has you curling in on yourself. Your cunt throbs like crazy now and everything somehow feels ten times better than before.

“Answer me.” Jungkook slaps your cheek rather hard.

“Mmph–y-yes..!” You whimper despite the pillow being in your mouth.

“Yea,” he laughs as he suddenly snaps his hips up, “you love it don’t you? Can’t get enough of this cock.” He plows into you with repeated thrusts, each one jostling you up the bed and sending you into a pleasure hazed mind.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as Jungkook grips you by the hip with one hand and slams you back onto his cock. Your toes curl from the intensity of his cock slamming into your g-spot while his thumb fills your ass. The heat coiling in your tummy has you squirming and whimpering.

“Too much? Where you goin?” You don’t realize you’re actively moving away from him till his cock threatens to slip out, “You can take it baby, don’t run.” He laughs low while dragging you right back onto his cock.

In fact he follows you down till you’re laying flat on the bed and his thumb slips out of your puckered hole, “Gonna cum? Hm?” He lays flat over your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t go stupid on me.” He smacks your cheek gently a couple of times.

“Yes..!” You gasp breathily, “S-So, so close..” Your voice sounds wobbly and garbled, and the shaking in your thighs doesn’t stop.

Jungkook coos, “So close,” he buries his face in the side of your neck and leaves marks of his own there, “go on, cum on this dick.”

Your lips part and you let out a high-pitched mewl, your pussy spasms around him with your cunt squeezing and massaging his cock. Your eyes slip shut and you slump against the bed with a whine, the orgasm took the life out of you.

“Fuuckk,” he sighs as he slows down, grinding his cock in and out of the mess between your thighs, “good girl,” he groans softly until he comes to a stop and stills.

His cock throbs and twitches, spurt after spurt of cum filling you to the brim. You can feel some of it slide out with globs of your own slick. Jungkook hums deeply and gives your ass a pat of appreciation, “Shower?” He asks softly.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod still face down in the sheets.

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook copies while laughing to himself as he slips out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. You don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now, you’re just ready for bed at this point.

+

You can’t help the little yawn that escapes as you turn your face to tuck yourself into Jungkook’s side. Whose idea was it to take a roadtrip to Busan, you don’t know but you’re barely even awake after that rough fucking.

You and Jungkook had opted to sit in the back away from everyone and enjoy each other’s company instead. Jungkook’s hand came to rest over your thigh like that’s his permanent spot.

So far the ride is peaceful, Yoongi’s managed to successfully get you all out of the city and onto the highway (thanks to Namjoon’s excellent navigation skills). In front of you Jimin’s knocked out while Taehyung watches something on his phone. Namjoon’s talking with Yoongi about something you can’t bring yourself to care for.

You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second and it feels like you’re about to slip into the best sleep ever when Jungkook stops you. Not literally, but it still feels like it with the way he slides his hand up your bare thigh.

“Hm?” You sleepily look up wondering what on Earth he was up to now.

Jungkook pats you, “C’mere, want you on my lap baby.” He mutters as quietly as he can.

You rub your eyes and slip yourself on to his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing your thighs on either side of him. God bless that you chose to wear your thin sleeping shorts and slutty juicy sweater, Jungkook can just about feel your perky tits through the soft material.

“Shh.. not a peep or else I’m gonna gag you with your panties.” He mumbles low in your ear, stroking over your back to keep you calm.

“Jungkookie–”

“Jungkookie needs you to shut the fuck up, can you do that for me?” He squeezes your ass and kneads both cheeks rather roughly, “Good girl.”

“If they look, I’m not stopping. So if I were you I’d keep quiet baby, unless you want Joon and them to know how much of a cock hungry slut you are.”

He sounds so fucking calm but his words are the complete opposite, you find yourself holding in your desperate whines. “Can you..?”

“Can I what?” He slips his hand under your shorts and tugs it to the side alongside your panties, “Hm?”

You bite your lip and lift your hips, “Want something in me, I feel so empty Kook..” You breathe out and wrap your arms around his neck.

Through the drowsiness you faintly make out his soft curses as he whispers under his breath. Jungkook pokes at your slit and slips his fingers through your messy folds.

“Take my cock out,” he mumbles and you happily reach between the two of you to slip your hand into his sweats.

His cock throbs when your soft hand wraps around it, he has to bite his lip when you dig your thumb into the slit and swipe over the messy head. “Don’t tease..” He grunts with a small sharp smack to your ass.

You lift your hips and with his help manage to slip his cock through your dewy folds. You blindly slap the tip against your slicked up hole, the tip catching on your rim.

“Slow,” he sounds calm and collected but the way he swallows harshly tells you otherwise.

You bite your moans back and push yourself until your ass is meeting his thighs. The heat in your belly pools and your poor clit throbs. Is it you or the car feels hotter?

You hide your face in his neck and suck over old and new hickeys you’ve left these past days. Jungkook relaxes into the seat and sighs, luckily it doesn’t sound like it’s out of the ordinary.

“You can sleep now.” Jungkook off-handedly mumbles while closing his eyes, leaving you utterly speechless. You’re not entirely surprised given his little track record of being mean and shit.

“G’night..” You softly mumble and kiss his cheek, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll make you cum later on..yeah, that sounds amazing, you smile in your sleep and drift off into dreamland with a cunt full of cock.

.

“So hot..” You softly mumble while fanning yourself with a make-shift fan.

Everyone but Namjoon went out today to explore the town and shit. You opted to stay back and wait for the sun to die down to go out later. Namjoon said something about keeping you company so you didn’t mind.

Here you are laying on the ground with your legs thrown up on the couch over Namjoon’s lap. Your pretty babydoll dress rides up your thighs and you occasionally catch Namjoon’s gaze drifting down. What a sight is it to see—veiny big hands plastered over your soft ankles toying with your cherry charm anklet.

“Namjoon, if penguins are related to the bird family, how come they can't fly?” You softly say while looking at him through your lashes.

“I dunno,” He shrugs while stroking over your foot, “environmental and evolutionary reasons maybe?”

You pout and tilt your head back to watch the TV, “I think they’re cute.”

“Why don’t you find one and give it a kiss then?” Namjoon smirks in amusement, “Maybe Jungkookie can save you if it tries to attack you or something.”

“Not funny.” You whine kicking your sock-clad foot at him, but he catches it and tugs on your foot.

You squeal softly as he ends up dragging you upwards just a tiny bit, “Owie let go, you’re squeezing my freaking bone.” You giggle.

Namjoon lets your foot go with a laugh, “My bad, my bad.” He raises his hands in surrender, “You can tell your Jungkookie to kiss it all better when he comes back yeah?” He grins.

“Ugh you’re also mean.” You huff while sitting up feeling light headed cause you were laying on the ground for so long. “You and Jungkook.” You mumble and climb onto the couch with him.

Jungkook finds you two like that. You’re tangled up with Namjoon side by side, legs thrown over his lap as he strokes over your soft thigh. Namjoon’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone and you’re just you watching some animal documentary on the TV.

“Hey.” Jungkook greets while falling on another sofa.

“Back already,” Namjoon hums, “where’s the others?”

“Out, they went to the beach cause Jimin wanted to go. It was fuckin’ hot so I came back, we didn’t do much but walk around the tour shops and shit.”

You lift a leg in the air to admire your pretty anklet, “Did you bring me anything?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, it’s in the bag.” Jungkook replies calmly as he fishes his phone out and does whatever the hell he usually does on that thing.

With both men preoccupied with their phones you decide to head outside to sunbathe. God bless the airbnb for having a private pool. “Where you going?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking up from his screen.

“Sunbathing.” You curtly reply and head outside through the large patio doors.

It’s hot as hell but you don’t care as you kick your socks off and strip out of your babydoll dress. You happily lay your towel out on the grass and set up a mini umbrella. Once you're happy with your setup you lay on your back and slip your heart shaped glasses on.

You can hear Namjoon and Jungkook talking in the background faintly, something about Sujin but you honestly don’t bring yourself to care much. Along the lines Jungkook mentions Sujin texting him again, Namjoon says “oh shit really” and then Jungkook tells him everything.

“..giving… chance… again..?” You can’t make out the entire convo. You crack a slow smile and turn over on your belly, legs kicked up and your feet in the air as you call out to the boys.

“Can someone bring me my phone?” Your voice soft and velvety, you slip your glasses up on your head and flutter your lashes, “Please?”

Jungkook stops talking and looks over the coffee table before stepping out with your phone in hand. “Look at you all cute and shit, enjoying your sunbathing?” Jungkook asks as he squats down in front of you.

“Yep, it’d be funner if you and Joonie joined me though.” You softly hum while tilting your head up and letting Jungkook lay a kiss over your soft lips.

“Yeah..?” He murmurs low. It’s glaringly obvious you have this man wrapped around your little fingers. It’s like you didn’t even have to try with him.

“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the house.

You roll over on your back with a satisfied smile, slipping your glasses back on as you hum, “The boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him,”

+

Maybe Jungkook’s the one trying you right now. It’s not even nine am yet..

Your thighs encase his head like a pair of soft earmuffs, he’s got his tongue dipped between your messy folds with your pussy stuffed in his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care though, he’s got his strong big arms wrapped around your thighs as he holds you down and makes you take it.

Your clit’s just as sensitive as every other part of you, and Jungkook just loves to make you shake. He traces the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth with quick strokes. It has your lips parting and your head leaning back from the cloudy pleasure.

“Oh..” You roll your hips upward into his eager mouth, something that greatly pleases Jungkook.

He slips his tongue lower and flicks it upward to get a taste of all that creamy slick gushing from your empty cunt. You slap a hand over your mouth and whimper when he goes back to your poor clit. This time though he wraps his lips around it and gives it a harsh, mean suck.

Jungkook flicks his dark eyes up to look at you, just watching as you lose yourself on his tongue. The way your tummy goes taut and your body stiff when he grazes his teeth over your clit sends a dark thrill down his spine. He wants to see more, so he’s going to get more.

“J-Jungkook!” You cry out as he stuffs his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.

There’s a loud squelch each time he slaps his fingers up into your greedy cunt. Your pussy’s literally leaking as small dribbles of squirt oozes out with each passing second. You’re shaking, thighs struggling to stay open and not clamp down on his head. Your lower half shakes slightly from his rough movements and your pussy makes these nasty wet sounds.

“Wait,” you sob and reach down to grip his hair, “ ‘m so close..! P-Please, please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for—go, stop?

The heat in your tummy builds quickly and you’re teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stops. All at once both his fingers and mouth are gone as he pulls away while harshly panting. You can’t even complain but the intensity has your heart racing with excitement and fear.

“Okay?” He quietly asks while stroking your thigh gently.

You take a couple of seconds to catch your breath, meekly nodding as you bite your lip, “ ‘m okay.” You softly reply.

He climbs up the bed and hovers over you, necklace dangling in your face as you stare up at him with glossy eyes. “Kiss?” You softly say while parting your pillowy soft lips. He’s very much happy to oblige of course..

You lazily make out, your lips feel swollen and they’re glossy from spit. He doesn’t let you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips and reel you back in with a hand to the back of your neck. His hand tightly grips your hair and teasingly tugs because he knows you’re a little slut for it.

You moan into his mouth and needily press yourself closer to him, hooking your thigh over his hip just so you could press your needy pussy against him. Everything feels hot and you don’t like it, Jungkook’s not helping with the way he drops his other hand down to your ass cheek, gripping it tight and using his grip to yank you even closer.

Body to body, you’re rolling your hips up to feel the tent in his boxers. It’s mouth watering when the curve of his thick cock presses into your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most..

Jungkook tightens his grip on your hip, it’s bruising even as he presses himself into you and rubs his cock over your soaked pussy. The rough friction has your toes curling and another needy gasp escaping. He pulls away from the kiss with a wild look in his eye, he pants quietly as he shoves his boxers off and tosses them somewhere.

“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he holds his heavy cock in his hand, stroking over it slowly as he looks down at your glistening cunt, “just like that..” He mumbles darkly.

You hook your arms around your thighs and pull them up to your chest so that your pussy is laid out bare for him. You bite your lip in anticipation and try your best to stay still when he taps the tip over your swollen clit.

“Look so pretty like this,” he muses as he slips his cock in inch by inch, “prettier down here too.” He grins as he lays his thumb over your clit and rubs it side to side slowly.

You let out a long “mm” as his cock fills you over and over again, filling you in the right places combined with his gentle strokes over your clit. He’s got you dripping even more as his cock re-surfaces covered with your creamy slick.

Jungkook rolls his hips into yours slowly, you can hear the quiet grunts and moans slip from his lips as he remains focused on the spot where you’re connected. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his thumb becomes jerky as he messily swipes over your bud.

You get the urge to ride the fuck out of him, he’s been nothing but doting and now you want to return the favor. Always the giver but never the receiver, and you’re going to change that.

“Jungkookie,” you softly sigh as his eyes snap up to your face, “wanna ride you,” you pout, “can I pretty please?” You purposely squeeze around his cock as he back strokes slowly.

“Yeah,” he softly breathes out and lifts you up into his lap as he switches places with you.

You huff as his cock somehow slips deeper in the new position, “No, you lay back and let me do it.” His eyes widened slightly at your demanding tone, “I wanna make you feel good too..” You pout and wiggle around in his lap.

Jungkook bites his lip and lets his hand fall to your thighs, “Fuck–okay, yeah,” he lays his head back on the pillow and swallows harshly as you smile down at him and lay a soft kiss on his lips.

“Fuck,” he groans when you turn around in his lap to ride him reverse cowgirl. He lays his hands over the fat of your ass and smacks each cheek repeatedly while you grind yourself in his lap.

Your moans spill from your lips as you arch your back and roll your hips back and forth. Behind you Jungkook sounds like he’s having the time of his life as he holds your ass tightly in both hands. The noises he makes only fuel your desire more as you rock yourself in his lap.

“Mm–fills me up so good,” you tilt your head back with a teasing smile, “can feel it so deep in my pussy.”

Jungkook growls low and spanks you harder, “Yeah? You like knowing you’re the only one taking my cock like this huh,” he smirks, “ ‘s all yours baby.”

You huff softly and look at him over your shoulder with puppy eyes, “Mine only.” You nod, “Not hers,” you roughly slap your hips back, catching him off guard as he grunts, “Right?”

“Only you.” Jungkook sighs as he tugs you back so that you’re grinding over his cock the way he likes, “Always yours.” He murmurs.

You smile happily and begin bouncing in his lap, your ass claps against his pelvis as low fopping noises build up. The bed creaks a little and your skin smacks together as you get a little wild with it.

Your moans rise in volume alongside his as the two of you lose yourselves in your rough fucking. Your pussy clamps down when the tip of his cock brushes over your g-spot repeatedly. You have to put your hands on the bed for support as you whimper and grind quickly on his lap.

“F-Fuck..” You whimper low as your thighs begin to tremble again.

Jungkook throws his head back with a low groan as he holds your hips tightly, “Fuck keep going baby, almost there,” he whispers breathlessly, “you can do it.”

You let out a cry and slam yourself on his lap until you go still as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. It’s mind blowing as your cunt tightens up and a wave of hot pleasure comes crashing down on you. You shake in his lap and whimper out a garbled version of his name.

Jungkook quietly moans as he holds you still and bucks his hips up a couple of times until he’s filling you with his cum. His cock twitches and pulses through his orgasm, dully reminding you that you’re on planet earth still and you need to come down from your high.

“My pussy hurts.” You softly whine while looking back at him.

“My pussy hurts,” he mocks softly, “but who just got the dicking of their life hm? You did.” He pokes your cheeks and brings you back so that you’re laying with him, “You okay?” He chuckles.

You hide your face in his neck and nod, “Nap now, food later?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grins.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

JJK – Gojo, Yuta

BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima

HQ – Miya twins

CSM – Yoshida

BLLK - Nagi

[pucksandpower]

Pretty Woman Moment

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: you have your very own Pretty Woman moment in the glittering shops of Monaco

You take a deep breath of the fresh Monaco air as you walk hand-in-hand with Max down the cobbled streets. He gives your hand a little squeeze and smiles at you. Even after all this time, his smile still makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re both dressed casually — just simple jeans and t-shirts, with caps pulled low over your faces. It’s one of the things you love most about your life here. The two of you can blend in and just be yourselves, without the glare of fame and fortune.

As you pass a small cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts out. Your mouth waters.

“I’m dying for an iced coffee,” you say longingly. “Do you mind if we stop for a quick drink?”

Max chuckles. “Of course, schatje. You stay here and keep browsing. I’ll go grab us something.”

He gives you a peck on the cheek before heading into the cafe. You watch him go, your eyes drifting down to admire his cute butt in those jeans. Yup, you’ve definitely still got it bad for him.

Humming to yourself, you continue down the street, peering in shop windows at the latest fashions.

Up ahead you spot the iconic red awnings of Cartier. On a whim, you decide to browse the opulent jewelry shop.

As soon as you enter the store, you can feel the receptionist’s eyes sweep over you, no doubt taking in your casual outfit. Her gaze lingers on your much-loved sneakers. You pretend not to notice as you begin looking at a display of gem-encrusted watches.

Moments later, a saleswoman approaches you. “May I help you find something?” The saleswoman asks in a frosty tone.

You give her a polite smile. “Just looking, thanks.”

The woman’s eyes flick to your sneakers again, and her lips press together in disapproval. Still, she gives a curt nod and stands stiffly nearby like she is waiting for you to leave.

You feel a flare of annoyance at her judgmental attitude, but brush it off. You don’t have anything to prove to her. You know who you are, sneakers and all.

As you admire a display of delicate tennis bracelets, you feel the saleswoman’s eyes on you. She hovers over your shoulder, as if worried you might steal something. You bite back an amused laugh. If only she knew the size of your jewelry collection back home. Max loves spoiling you with extravagant gifts just because.

You wander towards the case of Panthère de Cartier rings, their tiny emerald eyes glinting up at you. As you lean down to admire them, the saleswoman swoops in.

“I’m afraid those particular pieces are off limits to handle without intent to purchase,” she says crisply.

You straighten up slowly. “Of course. My apologies.”

You turn away, irritation prickling. The other salespeople eye you suspiciously too now. Pretentious snobs, you think.

Just then, the glint of your own diamond tennis bracelet catches your eye — the one Max gave you for your anniversary last year. It’s slipped partially down your wrist unnoticed. You nudge it back into place just as the first saleswoman appears at your elbow.

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re attempting to steal that bracelet,” she hisses.

You gape at her. “What? This is mine, I’ve been wearing it since I came in.”

“Likely story,” she snaps. “Jacques, could you please call security?”

A bulky guard steps forward, eyeing you distrustfully. “Let’s just take a look at that bracelet, miss.”

Mortified anger rises in you. “Absolutely not, I don’t need to prove anything to you,” you say heatedly.

The saleswoman’s expression hardens. “If you make a scene, we’ll be forced to restrain you until the police get here.”

Just then, the door opens and Max strides in, caramel-drizzled iced coffee in hand. His eyes instantly take in the situation. He steps forward, eyes blazing.

“What the hell is going on here?” He demands, voice dangerous. You’ve never seen his racing temper directed at you, though you know it lurks beneath his calm demeanor.

“It’s fine, Max, just a misunderstanding-” you start gently.

He silences you with a look, then turns his glare on the cringing salespeople. When he speaks again, his voice is lethally quiet.

“This is my wife, Y/N, and I suggest you treat her with the utmost respect. She is the most important person in my world.” Though his words are soft, they crack sharply like a whip. “Now apologize. Immediately.”

The saleswoman who accused you blanches paper-white. “M-Mr. Verstappen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”

Max holds up a hand, cutting off her stammering. His sharp features are carved from stone. “Save it. Your behavior was unacceptable. We’ll be taking our business elsewhere and you can be assured that I will be speaking to corporate.”

But the security guard blocks your path. “Just a moment. I still need to verify this bracelet did not come from our store.” He reaches out towards your wrist.

Quick as a flash, Max grabs the man’s arm, halting him. “Don’t touch her,” Max says in a low, dangerous voice. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the ice in his tone.

The security guard tries to yank his arm away, but Max holds firm. “I suggest you let us leave right now, before I call my lawyer.”

He drops the offending arm as the security guard takes several steps back, then takes your hand gently. “Come, schatje. Let’s get you home.”

Once outside, Max halts and turns you gently to face him. His handsome face is creased with concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing a lock of hair tenderly from your face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

You lean into his touch, letting it soothe away the sting. “I’m okay now that you’re here. But Max … the way she looked at me, treated me like I was garbage just because of what I was wearing …” You trail off, throat tightening.

Max’s jaw tightens, a storm brewing in his beautiful eyes again. “She had no right to talk down to you that way. No one has the right to make assumptions and treat you like anything less than the amazing woman I know you are.”

Despite everything, you feel yourself smile slightly. No one can make you feel better like Max can but furious tremors in his fingers tell you his wrath still simmers below the surface. You squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, really. Don’t let them ruin our day.”

His expression softens as he looks down at you. “Of course. I just can’t stand to see anyone disrespecting you.” He smiles ruefully. “I may have overreacted.”

You laugh. “Just a bit. But it was gallant of you to come to my defense.” You lean up on tiptoes to kiss him sweetly.

Max wraps you in his arms. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. I love you.”

“And I love you.” You take his hand again. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I saw the most adorable baby swans in the harbor earlier.”

The tension eases from Max’s shoulders as you stroll together along the glittering marina. You chat and laugh, the unpleasant scene at the jewelry store already forgotten. Because nothing can touch the happiness you’ve found here, in the sun-drenched streets of Monaco, hand-in-hand with the love of your life.

***

The next evening, you and Max stride arm in arm into Cartier, looking every inch the glamorous millionaire couple that you are. You’re dressed in a slinky black gown with diamond earrings while Max cuts a sharp figure in an Armani tuxedo. The salespeople gape as you saunter in, not recognizing you as the girl from yesterday.

You head straight for the saleswoman who accused you of stealing. “Remember me?” You ask breezily.

She flushes, stammering apologies. You silence her with one manicured finger.

“Let’s start fresh, shall we?” You extend a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“S-Suzanne,” she manages.

“Suzanne, my husband Max and I are looking to make a significant purchase tonight.” You gesture around the lavish store. “You have some beautiful pieces. Why don’t you show us some options?”

“Of course, right this way.” Suzanne leads you to a private viewing room. Hands shaking, she brings out diamond necklaces, tennis bracelets, rings — tens of millions of dollars in jewels laid across velvet.

You and Max pretend to consider each item seriously, before waving it away. “Oh no, that won’t do … this one’s not quite right either …” With each rejection, Suzanne’s smile grows tighter.

Finally you turn to her, feigning disappointment. “Well Suzanne, I’m afraid nothing here has caught my eye. It all seems a bit … subpar.”

She gapes. “S-subpar?”

“Mmhm. I think we’ll try Bulgari next. Their quality is much more superior.” You pause, tapping a finger against your chin thoughtfully.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I realize this just isn’t going to work out between us.” You gesture around the store. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure this is a fine jewelry store for some people with lower standards, but for me ...” You trail off, shaking your head sadly.

Suzanne is white-faced, swallowing hard. “Please, give us another chance. I’m certain we can find something to your satisfaction.”

You pretend to consider it. “Well … I suppose we could take another look.”

For the next hour, Suzanne desperately shows you their most elite pieces, diamond necklaces worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. You and Max have a gleeful time trying them on, admiring yourselves, but ultimately waving each one away.

Finally, after rejecting a spectacular €500,000 art deco diamond choker, you say airily, “You know what, Suzanne? I just don’t think Cartier is right for me. It’s been … educational, but I believe Max and I will be going now.”

As you saunter out, Suzanne calls desperately, “Please come again soon!”

You pause, looking back with a dazzling smile. “I would … but you made a big mistake. Big. Huge.”

And linking your arm through Max’s, you sashay into the balmy Monaco night, leaving the frantic saleswoman behind.

[choso4u]

AN IMPORTANT LESSON. ft. gojo satoru

cw: fem!reader, smut, age gap, voyeurism, exhibitionism, squirting, overstimulation

a/n: consider this my christmas gift to y'all

"C'mon, no one will see." Your boyfriend coos. You're currently in your boyfriend's house, in your boyfriend's room, in your boyfriend's bed with him hovering on top of you, coaxing you to have sex. You push his hands away from where its settled beside your head as you sat up. "Not now, not in the mood." You smile at your boyfriend, who was now pouting at your response. You giggled and pulled him up, sitting beside you. He huffs and pulls you in for a slow, deep kiss. But there was something you weren't telling him. It's that... you don't get satisfied with him fucking you. I mean, the both of you are still 19, naturally, he doesn't have that much of an experience. You understand that. But of course, you have needs. And it's frustrating that your boyfriend can't help you with those. Another reason was... because you were attracted to his dad. Your boyfriend was the most attractive man you've ever seen. Tall, white locks, blue eyes. That's what you thought— until you saw his dad, Gojo Satoru. You now saw where his features came from. It was disgusting because the first thing that popped in your mind when you saw Gojo Satoru was "Fuck, he's hot. Certified dilf." The both of you have interactions, yet brief only. Such as curt nods, polite smiles, small chats, and that's it. But you were hungry for more. You wanted his attention. Scratch that. It was him you wanted. Ever since, you started wearing crop tops, mini skirts, and extra tight shorts. But it just doesn't seem to get his attention. And it made you even more sexually frustrated. You pulled away from the kiss when you heard Gojo calling your boyfriend downstairs. He tells you to wait as he goes downstairs. He comes back, telling you that his dad has sent him on an errand to pick up something from the mall. You walk with him to the living room where there was Mr. Gojo Satoru himself, manspreading elegantly on the couch, giving you a nod and turning his attention back to his phone. Your boyfriend bids the both of you goodbye and you watch him get in his dad's car and drive away before you closed the front door. Then it occurred to you. You were all alone with only Gojo for company. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Your mind was reeling with the many possibilities that may occur. You were so lost in thought, staring at the door and got snapped back to reality when you head Gojo calling your name about four times already. You turn around and was met by his scowling face. "You inlove with the door or somethin'?" The man asks. You laugh nervously and shook your head. "N-no I was just thinking about something." You reply sheepishly and started your way towards the kitchen when he calls out "Like— what could happen between me and my boyfriend's dad?" You froze in your steps and looked at him with wide eyes. Gojo stands up and heads to his room. When he didn't hear your footsteps, he stops, turns around and casually says, "Follow me."

Clothes scattered on the floor, but that didn't matter anymore. His attention was now in between your legs, lapping your pussy like a starved man who hadn't had a meal or a drink. Ravishing it in a sinful yet heavenly way. Your inner thighs now littered with hickeys. He's made you cum two times with just his mouth, but he just keeps going. You feel yourself getting closer and closer but this time, the knot felt tighter. What with the awfully skilled tounge sucking on your swollen bud and three fingers going in and out of you in a fast pace. "Daddy— gonn—" You didn't even get to warn him when clear fluid suddenly came gushing all over his fingers, soaking them with your arousal as your vision turned white, wanton moans filling the room. Gojo laughs as he laps up the liquid from your cunny. "God, so fuckin' beautiful when you squirt huh? My son sure got himself a pretty little girlfriend." You whimper as his tounge glide over your sensitive clit, cleaning you up. "Did it feel good?" He asks you. But before you could reply, the door swings open. "Hey dad, what's th—" Your boyfriend stops at the scene infront of him. You try to cover up but Gojo swiftly pins both of your hands above your head with one hand. "Good timing son, Well, since you're here, let me teach you a very important lesson."

The lesson basically consisted of Gojo making his son sit on the chair beside the bed as he fucks you in a mating press in front of him. Your mind wasn't working well anymore. All you could think about is how deep Gojo's cock was drilling into you. Your hands wrapped around his neck, wanton moans slipping out of your mouth all the time, drool dripping on the sides of your chin, and practically crying on how good his cock felt inside you. "Ah, fuck— shit. Gonna loosen you up." Gojo says and turns his head to his son who was staring at you, boner evident in his pants. Gojo just smirks at his son and chuckles, "This is how you properly fuck a girl. Need to fuck her limp and dumb." His hard thrusts kissing your cervix every time he pulls it out and slams it back in was enough for you to go dumb. Even forgetting the fact that your boyfriend was forced to watch you get ruined underneath his dad. You were about to cum again, but before you could, Gojo pulls out, flipping you around, ass in the air... facing your boyfriend. Your eyes widened but before you could say a word, he slams his cock back into you, resuming the most mind blowing earth shattering sex you've ever had. Gojo reaches down to your head, pulling your hair, forcing you to face his son. "Look at him. Look at him while I fuck you dumb." He orders. You could barely see your boyfriend as you rolled your eyes back to your head. It was humiliating. But it felt so fucking good to care. Felt so good you clamped around his cock so hard, Gojo's hips stuttered for a moment before resuming. Gojo smirks at his son, who was practically salivating at the salacious sight in fron of him. "Like what you see?" Your boyfriend couldn't answer, but the answer was clear as glass. He then lowers his head into yours and asks, "You cummin' again darling? Think you can squirt again f'me?" He waits a good five seconds before he raised his head, threw his head back and laughs. "You feel so fuckin' good, can't even talk?" Gojo slaps your ass hard, and that was all it takes for you to cum hard around his hard and squirt uncontrollably, letting out the most pornographic moan the man has ever heard. Your moans also brought him to the edge as he throws his head back and moans, painting your walls white. He stilled inside you for a minute before pulling out, groaning as he watched your cum leak out of your hole. When you didn't move for like twenty seconds, he panics a little and flips you over. "Shit, Y/N, you still with me?" He asks, voice laced with concern. He exhales with relief when he saw you smile at him and shakily reach out both of your hands. He smiles down at you, lowering his head as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kisses you deep. He cuts the kiss to look at his son, still frozen, cock hard, and wide eyed. "You can go now. Lesson is over."

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Professor, I didn’t cheat.

Summary: reader is a top student at her university. always exceeding in her courses and even taking the liberty to do study groups with other students to help them. Professor Kennedy finds out that the reader and this other student have the same thesis for an upcoming paper. What happens when he confronts y/n after class?

Warning: fem reader. Professor Leon. make out. breast play. creampie. age gap. CONSENTED.

a/n: I HATE my political class. I don’t understand anything😭 I was put in a group full of of guys and I deadass felt so out of place

(pt.1) (pt.2)

You always took notes during his lectures. You always made sure to jot down every single detail, even if it was something that you could search online. Your studies were important to you. You wanted to be the best so you strived for academic success. Many students valued your ambitious character but others were jealous.

Today’s lecture was more of an exam day. You always aced your tests, given that you studied the night before. You were one of the first students to finish their exam. You and the girl next to you finished at the same time and walked up to Leon’s desk to turn it in. You took your backpack with you as you laid the exam flat on his wooden desk. He gave you a curt nod, and then one to the other girl.

You both walked out of the classroom without any issues.

Until Leon emailed you that he wanted to have a private conference with you.

You panicked. What could have possibly have gone wrong? Or maybe he knew of an opportunity that you could take, like a job or a scholarship you should apply. Most professors did that, they helped their best students.

So when you walked to his office Monday morning, your gut feeling sank as you noticed the look on his face. It was a mixture of disappointment and disapproval. He motioned for you to step up to his desk, “Y/n, glad you’re here. Please, take a seat.” He sat down on his desk chair while you took one of the chair in front of his desk.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here,” He began as he shuffled through some papers.

What could have possibly called you for? Nevertheless, you responded, “Yes, Professor, I am.”

He looked at you for a brief moment before laying a piece of paper in front of you. It was your exam, not graded yet, but it was yours. You furrowed your brows in confusion and then looked at him, “This is my exam…what’s wrong with it?”

He cleared his throat and rested his hands on his desk, “Look, I’m going to be straight with you. You’re an excellent student. The best student I’ve had so far.” He began slowly but you felt anxious, where was this going to?

“However, academic integrity is part of the student conduct every student must follow. I cannot grade your exam, y/n.”

It was as if time stopped. Your eyes widened, your heart was beating out of your chest. The silence was deafening, the pit in your stomach dropped heavy. “If you don’t grade this exam, I’ll fail the course,” you replied anxiously, “I can’t afford another class, I’ll have to wait for other scholarship opportunities to help me pay.”

He looked at you with sympathy but that didn’t mean he believed you, “Look, I know it’s stressful but that’s life. You don’t get an easy grade from cheating off a friend.”

“Cheating off a friend? Sir, with all due respect, I am not friends with anyone in the class,” you began to feel defensive. You didn’t know anyone, you only talked to them for projects. The professor raised his eyebrow as he stared at you.

“Someone told me that you copied from them. I won’t name the student since that’s between me and them,” he leaned forward onto the desk, “You’re an exemplary student, it hurts me to say this to you.”

All you could do was stare at him, someone actually wanted to ruin your grade and reputation. While you remained silent, he spoke, “Look, you have amazing grades and your participation has been outstanding. I’ll give you another chance. Retake the exam but it must be in my office.”

You furrowed your brows, “Why should I retake an exam if I didn’t cheat? I guarantee you, I would never lie on an exam. I am aware of the consequences that comes from cheating off of someone.”

Leon sighed and leaned back against his chair, “You’re stubborn, that’s good in a student.” He paused for a few moments, staring at you in silence, almost analyzing you. “Tell you what, I’ll investigate this further, however I still want you to take the exam again. If what you say is true then the retake of the exam will be extra credit for your grade.”

Extra credit? How can you say no to that? You sighed defeatedly and nodded along to his words, “Fine, I’ll retake the exam.”

He smiled softly and gave you a short single nod, “Good, come to my office on Wednesday at 12:30.”

You nod again and stood up to leave his office. His eyes trailed behind your back as you walked away from his office. Now all you had to do was wait for Wednesday so you can retake that exam, but first, should you find the person who accused you of cheating?

Wednesday came and you, lazily, made your way to his office. It was 12:25 as you were walking the halls of offices. The Dean’s office, some other professor’s office and then there was his. With his name plastered in the door in gold, Leon Scott Kennedy.

You knocked three times and heard a soft ‘Come in.’ You stepped into his office, immediately met with the smell of coffee, you forgot how much coffee this man consumed but honestly, who doesn’t consume coffee in college? “I’m here,” you spoke awkwardly as you looked at him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you scan him, he looked strangely hot. His tie was loose, his suit jacket hung on the back of his chair and his sleeves were rolled up. You were to see how toned and muscular his arms were, the watch on his left wrist made his hands look bigger for some reason. His hair was messy but it made him look godly.

“Ah, you’re here, good,” He motioned for you to sit down at the chair in front of his desk. “Take out your laptop, I published the exam for you. It should be there.”

You walked over to the chair and sat down in front of his desk, you pulled your laptop out of your school bag and began to scroll through your student account, “I see it.” You mumbled softly.

“Let me know when you’re ready, you have 90 minutes to complete the exam,” He replied politely. You could tell he was proud that you decided to retake it. With a soft sigh, you nodded and began to work on your exam. You leaned back against the chair as your laptop rested on your lap, you answered one question after another. It was an easy exam, you’ve taken it before.

Leon was watching you attentively, his eyes scanning over your relaxed figure. He noticed the way your hair seemed a little bit messy and how your brows scrunched up together in deep thought. He felt proud because he knew you were an ambitious student, you were everything he wanted in a student. Studious, hardworking, hot- wait a minute, hot?

He quickly looked away and focused on some miscellaneous files, he shouldn’t be thinking about his students. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked on your exam and he couldn’t help but feel hot. His eyes lingering on parts of your body, as if truly seeing you for the first time. He sees you as an attractive woman.

“I finished,” you mumbled softly as you looked up from your laptop, he quickly turned his gaze to his computer to check if you finished it. With a firm nod he responded, “Yeah, I see it. Good job, you got another perfect score.”

Of course you did, you were the smartest in his class. This was easy for you, light work. You closed your laptop and began to pack up but not before he tried to stop you, “Hey, wait- don’t leave yet.”

You looked up from your bag to look at him. He clears his throat and continues, “I still have to put in your grade and we need to talk about the cheating accusation.” You nodded and remained quiet as he kept speaking, “I decided to grade both your exams and use this attempt as your extra credit. You’re a great student and it would be a shame if anything bad were to happen to you that could affect your future.”

Your eyes widened, you couldn’t believe he was being this considerate. Most times when a student s caught cheating, a lawyer gets involved. But he was being nice, too nice even.

“What happened to the investigation?” You asked with furrowed brows. “I decided to drop it. I see that you scored the same on both tries so I guess that means you weren’t lying,” he replied as he maintained eye contact. His foggy blue eyes piercing into your soul. It didn’t help that his appearance made you feel butterflies.

“Actually, I also wanted to talk to you about this scholarship I found. It might be good for you,” His hand motioned for you to come up to him and his computer, you got up from the chair and walked to stand behind him. The screen showed a website of a scholarship due next semester. You heard him talk about the details but all you could focus on was the scent of his cologne. He smelled good albeit his messy look. He turned around in his chair to look at you and your faces were merely centimeters away from each other. You looked down at him and he looked up at you from his chair. It wasn’t on purpose but your gaze fell to his lips. Your gaze switched from his eyes to your lips and you didn’t notice how he slowly brought his hand to your cheek. He cupped your side of your face and brought you down to his face.

It wasn’t meant to happen but you felt your lips against his lips. The moment the two of you joined together as one in a kiss felt surreal. His lips tasted like coffee. His other hand traveled to your waist and pulled you down to his lap. You straddled his hips and gripped on his hair as you two emerged into a passionate and sensual kiss. His tongue brushing against your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you as he forced his tongue inside your mouth. The man was old but he knew how to kiss so good. You moaned into the kiss and felt his cock hardened against your clothed core. Causing your panties to grow a wet spot from the arousal. You shifted slightly against his hips, grinding up against his erection. Your kiss turned hot and messy, saliva dripping down as your chest is pressed up against his. His hands traveled down from your waist to your hips, fingers digging at your skin.

He put hind hands on the back of your thighs near your ass and picked you up. He gently laid your back down on his desk, not caring about the files falling to the floor right now. His mouth moved to your neck as he began to nibble and suck on your skin. Red marks terrorizing your sensitive skin as you moaned and gasped. Your hands gripped on the back of his hair as his hands began to travel to the inside of your shirt, touching your stomach and swiftly making their to your breasts. He growled against your skin as he pushed his hand inside your bra and felt the hardened nipple.

“Take it off,” I mumbled against your skin and pulled back. He helped you take off your shirt as you began to unclasp your bra, revealing those beautiful titties to him. Their color only making him water the mouth, he dropped down to one of your breast and began to suck hard on it while his hand manhandled the other. You arched your back as his tongue moved swiftly across areola of your breast. The salivating skin coating your breast as his teeth grazed your nipple. Your moans and whimpers escaping your mouth as he destroyed your breasts with his mouth and hand. You felt good.

He pulled back from your chest and looked down at the marvelous sight before him. He leaned down to kiss you again before softly whispering against your lips, “Let me know if you want to stop.”

You nodded your head and watched as his hands traveled down to his trousers and began to unbuckle his belt and buttons. He pulled his pants down to his thighs and pulled down on his boxers. His erection jumping from the enclosed space, hitting his abdomen with a thwack as precum had been leaking. He was large, the tip a rosy tone of pink with a vein protruding from the side, his cock leaned to his left and you could swear you saw it twitch. It was a spectacular sight. His hands quickly went down to take off your pants, pulling them to your ankles before taking them off completely. His noticed the wet spot in your panties from your presumably wet cunt.

His index finger pressed down against the fabric covering your clit, the slick of your folds seeping through the fabric as you shut your eyes tightly and moaned quietly. He smirked and began to circled your clit through your panties, he wasn’t aware you were into this but he obliged.

Just as you were near your orgasm, he pulled his finger back and pulled your panties down towards the floor along with your pants. He stood in between your legs and aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance, “I wish I had the time to prepare you but I’ve got a meeting after this,” he mumbled as he pushed himself into you, not giving you time to respond as your mouth became full of moans.

He made sure to fill up with his cock until his balls made contact with your ass, your jaw fell slack as you rolled your head back against his desk. Leon slowly began to thrust in and out, not fully pulling out, he was kind enough to let you adjust to his size.

Once he was sure you were doing good, he began to thrust into you. Pulling out and pushing back in with force, causing the desk to grind against the floor. He leaned down and put his hands on either side of your head. Your hands traveled to his hair and back, clawing your nails through his shirt.

The sound of skin clapping and the smell of sweat and sex covered the room. The air felt humid as both of your breaths became heavy and labored. You felt his tip touch your cervix, sending a wave of pleasure over you through a whimper. He kept thrusting, making sure to hit your g-spot and cervix. He may not have fingered you but he was still a gentleman, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this just as much.

Your moans began to cut short as your breathing increasing, you arched your back and felt the band in your lower stomach stretching to a snap. And soon enough, your pussy clenched around his cock. Your orgasm milking and pulsating as he thrusted in you while you were experiencing your high. You closed your eyes and the darkness was clouded with stars.

His own thrusts faltered a little bit as he felt you clench and pulsate around his member and without a second thought he couldn’t contain his own cum from spilling inside you. His hot and thick juices shooting into your womb as he slammed his cock into your cunt for one last time. He kept himself buried inside you as he tried to catch his breath. Both of you panting and sweaty.

He slowly pulled out of you and watched as his cum dropped down from your cunt to his desk, the sight making his cock throb again but he couldn’t indulge himself for a second round as he had a meeting to attend. He helped you clean yourself up with some tissues he had and handed you your clothes from the floor. You both began to dress yourselves as the aftermath of what you two had done began to settle into your heads. He looked at you with a smirk and kissed your cheek, his stubble grazing your skin.

“I’ve got to now, sweetheart,” he whispered as his hand cupped your cheek like he did previously. “You should let me take you to dinner some time.”

You could only nod as you were still feeling dumb from the sex, “Yeah…”

He chuckled and pressed a light kiss on your lips before leaving you in his office.

Who knew a professor could fuck so good?

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

hi!! i’m a big wuss and cry at least twice a week. could i possibly request a ghost x reader where reader is new to the task force and everyone but ghost has warmed up to them and really enjoys their bubbly presence? ghost says something kinda mean, reader cries, and then goes quiet for a few days/a week. everyone notices the change in their personality and gets confused until ghost makes it right <3

Thanks for this request!!🙃🩷 same same tho.

We All Have Our Demons

Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of crying, swearing, angst w happy ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were recently just introduced to the 141 as the newest member. Your sniper skills were top tier, and Price had jumped at the opportunity to make you a part of his team.

The boys on the team had instantly taken a liking to you. You were a welcome addition to the team, and your presence alone helped shift the mood of the team tremendously.

Everyone on the team had been incredibly welcoming to you, all except Ghost. He'd been standoffish since you'd arrived, only giving you a nod when you'd introduced yourself. You had originally just chalked it up to him being weary if he could trust you. Which you more than understood, so while you kept your distance, you still made it a point to be nice to him.

He was always very curt and professional, never letting you hold a conversation with him, but that did not stop you from trying.

You'd always offer to help with various tasks, picked up coffee for him just the way he liked, and on multiple occasions had tried striking up conversations with him, to no avail.

One night, you'd decided you were going to try and talk with him. You weren't used to someone being so standoffish toward you, and wanted to know what you could've done wrong.

Making your way into the weapons rooms, you popped your head in to address your superior.

"Lieutenant?" You approached him with a wide smile.

He regarded you with clear disinterest and mumbled out a "What is it, Sargeant."

"I just wanted to check in with you, sir. I was wondering if perhaps.. I'd done something wrong?" Your hands started to grow sweaty, and you nervously rubbed them on your thighs.

He turned back to his weapon. "Wrong?"

"You just.. seem to not like me, and I'm not sure what I could've done to offend you."

"Like you? It's not my job to like you, and this isn't the place for annoying shit such as friendships. If that's what you're looking for, perhaps you should've looked to do any other field than this one, Y/N." Ghost sputtered, his eyes narrowing at you as he slammed his gun down in frustration.

Your mouth parted slightly, shock washing over you at his words. You knew he was a tough shell to crack, but you'd never thought he'd be so outwardly mean.

"Of course, sir. Sorry to bother you." You muttered meekly, turning to walk to the door. You blinked away tears, and aggressively wiped them from your eyes, not wanting anyone to see you cry.

~

For the next few days, you'd been rather quiet and kept to yourself. The boys would constantly come up and ask you to join them at the pub or for spar sessions, but you'd always politely decline.

Ghosts words had sunk deep, creating a wound you weren't sure how to heal. Were you really that annoying? Did everyone on base feel that way about you? The words ate and ate at you, and you'd ultimately decided to keep to yourself so as not to bother anyone around you. Perhaps Ghost was right. You weren't here to make friends.

The boys grew concerned, your normally bubbly attitude was gone, and they were lucky if they could even get a few words out of you.

"Anybody know what's going on with Y/N? They have been unusually quiet lately, and I'm worried about them." Soap had asked, sitting down to eat with Gaz and Ghost.

"I've tried talking to them a few times but can barely hold a conversation. You didn't hear it from me, but it was rumored that they left the weapons room crying Friday night." Gaz spoke, a sad smile forming on his lips.

Ghosts ears perked up at this information. You were with him in the weapons room Friday night. You left crying? Why would you have left- Oh. A wave of guilt came washing over him as he realized what had you so upset.

He truly didn't mean to make you upset. He was so used to keeping himself protected. He was afraid to let anyone else in. Then you came in with your bubbly attitude, and regardless of how much he tried to push you away, you still showed interest in him. He was so scared to open himself up to you, this ray of sunshine, and get himself hurt. He couldn't take more hurt in his life.

Shaking his head of his thoughts, he went to go and find you.

~

You were sitting in the courtyard watching the night sky. Your mind was racing with negative thoughts that you couldn't seem to push away. Deciding to turn in early for the night, you moved to stand when you heard a voice call your name. You turned around and were met face to face with Ghost.

"Oh, Lieutenant. Didn't know you were out here. Don't mind me, I was just leaving." You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and made for the entrance.

"Wait." Ghosts voice halted your movements. "I uh, I wanted to talk."

You turned to him, tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, and nodded your head slowly.

Ghost looked to the ground for a moment before speaking. "I'm.. not exactly a guy known for extending warm welcomes."

You swallowed thickly, expecting him to continue, but he didn't.

"It's alright, sir. I understand." You said softly.

Ghost lifted his eyes from the grass to meet your warm ones. He felt his heart palpitate from the way you were looking at him. You'd looked so innocent to him.

"No. It's not. I don't give my trust out easily, not to anyone. But that's no excuse to treat you as I did." You could tell Simon was doing his best to apologize, in his own way.

"We all have our demons, sir. I can't fault you for protecting yourself and the team. But I assure you I have nothing but good intentions." You assured him, not breaking eye contact.

"I know." He nodded, his eyes shifting back to the ground beneath him. There was something about the way you looked at him. It made him feel things he'd never felt before. You were such a warm person, and he didn't know how to take you.

"Well, if that's all, I'll leave you to your night, Ghost." You turned to make your way out again, stopping when you heard him speak once more.

"Simon."

"Sorry?"

"My name, it's Simon." He lifted his eyes to yours, and held your gaze.

Your eyes lit up from the small bit of information he'd given you. It wasn't much, but it was a sign he was willing to try opening up to you.

"It's nice to meet you, Simon." You giggled, a vibrant smile covering your face.

He nodded, thankful his mask was covering the light pink tint that was forming on his cheeks.

"Theres... there's a coffee shop up the road. Usually, go to it every now and then. Good coffee there." He fumbled out, heart stammering in his chest. "Be my treat. It's the least I can do for being an arse."

"I would love that, Simon." You were practically beaming. You couldn't stop saying his name, and he sure wasn't complaining. He quite liked the way it sounded coming from your lips.

He held out his arm to you, and you gladly linked your arm in his. "Shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Wasn't too proud of this one, tbh I rewrote it quite a few times.

Was kind of thinking of making this a 2 parter?

[prdx-invdr]

୨୧⸝⸝﹕if you call me a fool, then i’ll be a fool.

SUMMARY! you’ve been in love with park wonbin since the day the two of you met and never found the courage to tell him. why is it that you find yourself yearning to confess the moment someone else comes into the picture?

PAIRING! park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE! college!au, slice of life, fluff, angst (an attempt was made), friends to lovers, IDIOTS to lovers omg WC 8.1k

WARNING! swearing, jealousy, y/n likes wonbin an insane amount girl get up, insecurity, anton instigates like it’s his job and he’s up for a promotion, random female idol is mentioned many times (nothing against her!!), not proofread

NOTE! do u guys know what song the title is from lol.. LOL also i had another wonbin fic i wanted to post and deleted it bc it sucked so actually im posting this one as a coping mechanism

you don’t realize the way you’re staring at the back of wonbin’s head until a voice snaps you out of your trance. “do you know what you want?” shotaro asks you, waving a hand in front of your face.

currently, the two of you, along with wonbin, seunghan, and anton, are standing in line at a beverage kiosk. the latter, having already received his drink, stands to your right while shotaro stands to your left. seunghan recites his order to the employee while wonbin stands idly behind him.

“don’t even bother asking,” anton chortles, lips still wrapped around his straw. “she’s probably gonna have wonbin order for her, like always.” you lightly slap him in the arm after the words leave his mouth, eyes darting to the aforementioned boy standing merely 2 inches in front of you, hoping he hadn’t heard anton’s teasing.

“i didn’t even say anything wrong! he orders for you all the time!” the boy whines, jokingly rubbing his arm where you had hit him.

shotaro lets out a curt laugh at the interaction, knowing that anton’s words held truth to them, whether you liked to admit it or not. “it’s because she’s shy. right, y/n?” he turns to you, attempting to diffuse your embarrassment. one look at the smile on his face and anyone would be able to tell that his words were complete bullshit. the two of you knew that the real reason you liked having wonbin order for you was because you liked him.

however, for your own sake, you sigh and choose to agree with shotaro’s statement, only offering a small nod. “whatever,” anton mutters under his breath, walking over to seunghan who has his own beverage in hand.

now that you, shotaro and wonbin were the only people in line, shotaro grabs your sleeve and gently pulls you backwards, putting more distance between the two of you and the boy who was now placing his order. before shotaro says anything, you know what the topic of conversation is going to be.

“do you ever plan on telling him?” is all he inquires, his voice lowering to a whisper. you avoid his piercing gaze, instead turning to look at anton and seunghan, laughing in between sips of their respective drinks. anton is already nearly finished with his, you note.

when you’re done observing them, you shift your attention to wonbin, who has his arms crossed as he points at one of the cup sizes the kiosk has on display, indicating that it’s the one he wants.

you’re unable to see his face but you’re able to picture it better than anything. the way his lip quirks upwards in an attempt to be polite to the employee. the furrow of his brow as he asks a question.

shotaro sighs at your silence and finds it astonishing how you’re able to ogle wonbin without even looking at his face. that very sigh brings you back into reality, finally meeting the gaze of the boy currently interrogating you.

“he… doesn’t think of me that way,” you slowly tell him, as if the words would physically pain you if you uttered them too quickly. shotaro lets out a noise you can only assume was meant to be a scoff, but being passive aggressive simply doesn’t run in his blood.

“are you kiddi-“ shotaro is interrupted by wonbin holding a drink in front of your face, thus putting a barrier between the two of you. “here, y/n,” the long haired boy hums, not moving from his spot until you take the beverage filled plastic cup. if you didn’t have park wonbin tunnel vision, as shotaro likes to call it, you’d see the way anton is shaking his head and letting out a short laugh in disbelief upon witnessing the interaction. “called it,” he tells seunghan, who only blinks in confusion.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, but i remembered that time we went to that other drink place and you said you really liked the strawberry one, so i got you that,” wonbin explains, holding his own straw up to his mouth. he says it nonchalantly, as if you could either finish the drink in about 5 seconds before proclaiming how much you enjoyed it, or you could throw it to the ground and curse at him for assuming the flavor you wanted, and he wouldn’t flinch either way.

“um— yes— yeah, i..” you stutter, and shotaro swears it takes everything in him not to slap his own forehead at your sudden jumpiness. “i like it, thank you. you didn’t have to, wonbin,” you exhale, holding your drink with both hands.

“yeah, well, force of habit, you know?” the boy laughs. “since i’m always ordering for you anyway.” his words cause you to tense and you can just picture anton’s shit-eating grin after he heard what wonbin said. “right, yeah,” you nod, wanting the conversation to be over with. the 5 of you continue walking throughout the mall, seunghan complaining about what a ridiculous amount of time you had all just spent at that beverage kiosk.

“force of habit is crazy,” anton decides to tease you again, earning another slap on the arm. “stop hitting me!”

besides ordering drinks for you when you hadn’t requested for him to do so, anton has noticed that wonbin also tends to subconsciously let you get away with… a lot.

he doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he rolls his eyes when he walks into the living room and sees none other than you and wonbin, the latter seated on the carpeted floor while you’re situated on the couch behind him, playing with his hair.

“i shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters, barely audible. he’s unsure if he wanted you and wonbin to hear him, but your head snaps in his direction nonetheless. “hey, anton,” you greet him despite knowing that he’d have a lot to say about your current position. he nods his head in acknowledgement before pursing his lips. you brace yourself for whatever comment he’ll inevitably make next, morphing your lips into a straight line.

“you know,” anton starts, and you’re already holding back the urge to groan. “wonbin never lets any of us touch his hair like that.”

“right, because you guys are always so eager to play with my hair, huh?” wonbin quips sarcastically. anton shrugs, although wonbin isn’t looking at him. “so you’re saying if we wanted to, we could?” anton questions, moving across the living room to grab his phone charger, finally remembering why he had walked into the room in the first place.

“nah,” wonbin replies, “not sure why you’d want to, anyway.”

“i don’t see you questioning why y/n wants to do it,” anton insists, already making his way out of the room, pausing momentarily to hear wonbin’s response.

“she doesn’t need a reason,” his older friend says, “she’s y/n.” anton shakes his head and continues on his way. you resume treading your hand through wonbin’s hair as if nothing had happened, but unbeknownst to the boy sitting in front of you, your heart rate had increased at his words.

“he’s just jealous,” wonbin jokes. you only let out a short laugh in response. you wonder how he would react if you informed him that anton had actually sprung up that conversation because he knows about your tremendous crush on the raven haired boy.

“do you think you’d ever go blonde?” you inquire, changing the subject. he lets out a snort and tilts his head to look back at you. you’re grinning, trying to ignore the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“i don’t think the world is ready for that,” he laughs.

“what are we laughing about in here?” a voice sings from the door way, ripping your attention away from wonbin. you turn to the perpetrator and lock eyes with sungchan, who sends you a smile. you wave at him and he takes it as an invitation to sit himself down on the couch beside you.

“nothing much,” wonbin answers. your hands finally retreat from his hair and you miss the way his shoulders slump in response.

“right,” sungchan nods, turning his attention to whatever you and wonbin are watching on tv. in actuality, neither you nor him have been paying the television any mind for at least an hour, and only now do you realize that some sort of ocean documentary has been playing this whole time.

a few minutes of silence proceed before sungchan clasps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling you.

“man, this has been boring,” he announces, eyes darting between the two of you, seated in the same positions as when he first entered the room. “do you guys even talk?”

“we were, actually, before you walked in,” wonbin mutters, not meaning for his words to come out as sourly as they do. sungchan raises his hands in the air in defense. “hey, my bad. i didn’t realize the two of you were having an ocean documentary date,” he retorts.

“we’re not having-“ you’re about to correct him, only for him to cut you off.

“but, you know, bin,” he says, “i’m not sure how sangah would feel about you having a movie date with another girl.”

you feel like your entire world freezes over the moment you hear those words leave sungchan’s mouth. you quickly rid your face of your crestfallen expression, not wanting to give yourself away.

“who?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, and sungchan just stares at you. wonbin waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head in annoyance. “shut up, dude.”

“wait, y/n doesn’t know about sangah?” sungchan asks, a genuinely confused look crossing over his features. “i thought you guys told each other everything.”

wonbin groans in irritation. “i haven’t told anyone, actually, because it doesn’t matter. you only know because you’re nosy as fuck.”

sungchan chuckles, and you would attempt to let out a halfhearted laugh if you didn’t feel like your chest was aching. you lick your lips and stare questioningly at the side of wonbin’s head.

“look, bro,” sungchan gestures towards you, causing wonbin to turn around and meet your disheartened eyes. his face drops slightly, and you’re not in the correct headspace to try and pinpoint why. “she’s upset because you didn’t tell her!” his friend chimes.

wonbin shakes his head, still looking at you. “she’s just some girl,” he huffs. “i don’t even know her that well.”

you scoff before plastering a wobbly smile onto your face. “i’m not upset,” your voice quivers and you hope that wonbin doesn’t notice it. you’re not sure why he decides to reassure you about sangah— whoever that is— but you pray that it’s not because he’s known about your pathetic crush on him all this time and is now feeling bad for you because he’s currently seeing someone.

of course, only your cruel mind could formulate such a sickening thought.

“i’m just.. surprised,” you conclude with an unconvincing nod. wonbin closes his eyes in annoyance, and you know it’s because of his intrusive friend standing in the doorway. “sungchan, just stop spreading shit around, alright?” he gives him a tired look, finally getting up from the floor. as wonbin makes his way past sungchan in the doorway, the taller boy gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. with wonbin having left the room, you find yourself looking to sungchan with urgency.

“who is sangah?” you plead, trying to keep your emotions at bay. the boy furrows his eyebrows, confusion settling into his features once more. “why do you care, y/n?” he asks. you know that his question doesn’t come from a place of mockery, but rather genuine interest. it hits you in that moment that sungchan, as smart as he is, happens to be absolutely terrible at taking a hint.

somehow, when it came to the long lasting feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends, sungchan was none the wiser. you surmise that he wouldn’t have teased wonbin so openly about another girl had he known about your feelings for the long haired boy.

that, you suppose, you can’t really blame him for.

“um,” you start, “he’s one of my closest friends.” your words are spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “i’m just curious, you know?” the lie comes out easier than you think it should’ve.

sungchan hums, crossing his arms and giving you a curt nod. “just some girl,” sungchan tells you, repeating wonbin’s words from a few minutes ago. “yoon sangah. she’s in our music fundamentals class. like, 2 days ago, i think, she wrote her instagram handle on a slip of paper and gave it to wonbin right in front of me.” your face falls for what seems like the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. you can only offer the tall boy a nearly inaudible hum in response.

“do you think it’ll lead to anything? you know, between her and wonbin?” again, you can’t stop yourself from asking. you feel sick at the thought of playing into the role of ‘jealous, overthinking girlfriend’, and even sicker at the fact that you and wonbin aren’t even dating. what right do you have to be inquisitive about his love life?

still, you can’t help it. when sungchan takes a bit longer to respond to your question you fear you’re treading on dangerous territory, afraid that even the dense boy you’re conversing with may have cracked the code. the grin that he aims at you a few seconds later serves as reassurance that, no, he still doesn’t know anything.

“that’s a good question, y/n dearest,” he pats your shoulder lightly. “i guess only time will tell.”

you hate yourself for what you’re doing right now.

looking back on the conversation you had with sungchan hours prior to this moment, you recalled him mentioning that sangah had given wonbin her instagram. thus, like any normal person would do in your situation, you took it upon yourself to go through wonbin’s following list in an attempt to find her.

you scroll past your own account, past the accounts of your mutual friends, and a few people who you presume are some of wonbin’s classmates.

when you finally stumble across sangah’s account, your body fills with dread before you even see a proper photo of her.

judging by her profile picture alone, you can tell that she’s pretty. you’re fully looking at her profile now, and your frown only deepens. she’s beautiful.

you shake your head as if it would help ease your racing mind. she’s beautiful, yes, you think, but looks aren’t everything. you find yourself childishly crossing your fingers that sangah had the personality of an evil witch, so that even if wonbin fell victim to her physical charm, he’d be pushed away by her true nature.

you let out a quiet scoff. you can’t believe you’re sitting here thinking badly about another girl just because she might have a crush on the same man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him. in the same sense, you can’t believe that when you say that sentence out loud, it actually sounds a bit reasonable. you blame sungchan, for a moment, drawing the inference that you wouldn’t feel so insecure right now if it hadn’t been for his previous teasing.

you can’t stop yourself when you click on one of sangah’s posts. she doesn’t have many, but the few that she has have seemed to gather thousands of likes. despite this, you take note of the fact that wonbin doesn’t have any of them liked— thank god, you think to yourself. you start to analyze her photos, the faces she makes at the camera, the outfits she wears, the way her hair is styled. when studying her facial expressions, you wonder if she’s made those same faces while looking at wonbin. when taking her outfits into consideration, you wonder if wonbin has seen her wearing any of them and thought she looked particularly nice. whilst examining her hair, you resist the urge to rip out your own. it’s perfect. she’s perfect.

she’s perfect, and from what you can tell, you aren’t anything like her. so what does that make you?

you move to close the app, feeling filled to the brim with self doubt when you suddenly freeze as your phone vibrates. you hesitantly open your dms and your eyes widen as they fall upon the newest message.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: why are u awake

your heart races and you momentarily contemplate if wonbin had somehow set up a security camera in your bedroom without your knowledge because how on earth did he know?

you don’t ponder on the matter for long, the aforementioned boy sending another message merely a few seconds later.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: u have ur activity status turned on btw

exhaling a breath of relief, you type a response to him.

[3:03 AM] you: why are U awake park wonbin

[3:03 AM] 1bin_02: i just woke up like 5 minutes ago. my y/n senses were tingling and my unconscious body felt a disturbance

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: kiddinggg

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: but fr why are u awake

you hold your breath as you type out your next response, choosing to be daring. you decide that, even if it’s only for a few seconds, you’re no longer going to be a coward.

[3:06 AM] you: i was thinking about u

[3:06 AM] 1bin_02: ditto

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: i know im amazing and everything but don’t let me stop u from getting ur beauty rest 🙄 jk

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: gn dummy

you decide against saying anything else, shutting off your phone with a sigh. you are a dummy, you think, and the boy who had just given you that title has no idea that it’s all because of him.

you’re exhausted the next day, concluding that being awake at 3 in the morning despite knowing that you had a class at 8AM was not the best idea.

wonbin is quick to take note of this, poking you on your side as the two of you follow your usual route to your next lecture of the day. “i bet someone regrets staying up until 3AM, hm?” he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as you swat his hand away. “like you weren’t up at 3AM, too,” you mutter. he clicks his tongue in response. “that was only for a few minutes,” he says, “who knows how long you were awake for, though.”

before you’re forced to dignify wonbin with a response, anton and seunghan walk up to the two of you, the latter offering a wave while the former only smiles.

“where are we headed, guys?” seunghan asks, throwing an arm around wonbin. the boy attempts to shrug him off to no avail. “anton and i wanted to go get drinks and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come with,” he grins before quietly adding, “and maybe also pay for them.”

you laugh and wonbin turns to you upon hearing it, letting out a playful scoff of his own. “can’t, y/n has class in 10 minutes or so,” he turns to the two boys who now have their eyebrows raised in apprehension. “that’s where we were headed,” he finishes.

“and you’re walking her there,” anton nods, his words posing as more of a statement than a question. you can only dramatically roll your eyes. wonbin doesn’t seem to pick up any undertones, only nodding in response. “i might be able to tag along afterwards, though. no promises.”

“well, anton,” seunghan sighs, turning to his friend, “we’ll just have to take shotaro inste-“

the boy is cut off by the sound of a girlish voice calling out wonbin’s name. all 4 of you turn around in unison, and you feel like your heart has physically sunken into the floor. sangah.

wonbin’s at a loss for words for a moment and you want to run away more than anything. you’re not prepared to see the two of them interact, especially after looking at her instagram page last night. “hey, sangah,” is all he says, a smile plastered on his face that pains you to look at.

the girl is practically beaming. “what are you up to?” she grins, her eyes not daring to look anywhere but him. his eyes flicker to you momentarily, who is struggling to breathe.

“i’m walking her—” he gestures to you and sangah finally looks away from him, eyes now trained on yours, “to class. well, i was, before these two showed up.” wonbin waves a hand in anton and seunghan’s direction, the two boys adorning matching confused expressions on their faces. nobody moves a muscle for a few seconds and you’re afraid that your rapid heartbeat can be heard atop of the pin-drop silence.

“oh! my bad,” wonbin clears his throat, “guys, this is sangah,” he gestures towards the girl, “sangah, this is… guys.” he gestures towards his friends. “and y/n,” he gestures towards you for the second time, giving you a tap on the shoulder for good measure. sangah’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she reaches out to shake your hand. you’re positive that if it weren’t for the freezing hallways of your university, your hands would be sweating, so you silently thank whoever’s in charge of the ac for seemingly always having it cranked up to the max. you and the girl shake hands, her smile noticably brighter than yours.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” she says. “you, too,” is all you’re able to respond with, smile tight.

“nice to meet you guys, too,” she waves at anton and seunghan with both hands and they wave back, offering their own respective greetings in return. awkward.

you cough, attempting to break the silence. “this has been fun,” you press your lips together for a second, “but i’ve gotta get to class. hope you guys have fun at that drink place later, or whatever,” you trail off, the last part of your sentence aimed towards anton and seunghan. “and it was nice meeting you, again,” you add, making eye contact with sangah. she smiles. you don’t say anything to wonbin as you attempt to squeeze past him, but he grabs your arm. “i’m walking with you, remember?” he says. you resist the urge to look at sangah or anyone else in your vicinity for that matter, surprised at his words. this random girl who’s obviously into him is standing only a few inches away and wonbin still insists on walking you to class.

“it’s okay,” you shake your head, unsure. wonbin can tell that you’re beginning to feel upset and he desperately wishes that sangah and even seunghan and anton were anywhere but here. “y/n-“ he starts, you cut him off. “it’s fine, wonbin,” you reaffirm. it isn’t, though.

you begin to walk in the direction of your class and release a breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. deep down, you wanted wonbin to disregard your words and resume walking with you, leaving sangah and his friends standing in the hallway. but wonbin was too polite for that, and you couldn’t even turn around to see if he had continued to engage in conversation with the 3 of them because you felt tears forming in your eyes. stupid, stupid, stupid, you think to yourself.

unbeknownst to you, sangah was able to sense the tension in the atmosphere before anyone had even said anything to her. she kisses her teeth, scratching the side of her head. “i should probably go, too,” she tells wonbin. the boy can tell that she would’ve liked to talk more, but he wasn’t looking to become friends or even acquaintances with her. doing that would only give her the wrong idea, and he didn’t want to have any bad blood with someone he’d be forced to see nearly everyday in class. the boy nods in understanding, giving her a wave. “nice.. talking to you,” he bids her farewell, unsure of what to say, because whatever had just transpired definitely did not qualify as a conversation. the girl waves back with an unwavering smile, walking in the opposite direction you had gone.

“oh, man,” seunghan lets out a laugh he had been holding in, “that was the worst. please don’t ever put me through anything like that again.” anton silently agrees, cringing.

“is it just me,” wonbin starts, ignoring his friend’s remark, “or did y/n seem kind of upset before she left?”

anton stretches his arms slightly, eyes looking anywhere but at his dark haired friend. “wonder why that might be,” he muses under his breath, but wonbin catches it. “what do you mean?” he pushes, looking his younger friend in the eye. anton puts his hands in the air in mock surrender.

“anton, what the hell do you mean?” wonbin asks again, voice tinged with annoyance. anton shakes his head, “figure it out.”

seunghan watches his friends go back and forth, a bit confused himself. much like sungchan, he seems to be completely oblivious when it comes to the way you feel about wonbin.

you’re currently sitting in class wondering why you even bothered to show up.

you knew before you even sat down that you wouldn’t be able to process a single word of the lecture, your mind thinking over your first official encounter with sangah.

ever since last night, you’ve started to dread moments like these— none of your friends being around to distract you, leaving you alone with your own miserable thoughts. it feels as though each minuscule moment of silence is filled with your insecurities being pushed to the forefront of your mind.

what did they talk about after you had left? did seunghan and anton decide to leave shortly after, leaving wonbin and sangah alone? did they grow closer in the small amount of time they were left together? even worse, what if the amount of time they spent together wasn’t small at all? oh god, what if they’re still together right now?

had anton, seunghan or, worst of all, wonbin decided to invite sangah to their aforementioned drink hangout? your mind drifts to the image of wonbin ordering a drink for sangah, the same way he always does for you, and you feel like bursting into tears similarly to the way you had almost done so on your way to class.

and sangah— god, you wanted to hate her so bad. your prayers that she had the personality of a wicked witch were thrown out the window the second she opened her mouth. she was so nice to you. the guy that she likes had openly expressed that he wanted to walk you to class and she still smiled at you. she’s got the most perfect appearance and most perfect attitude and you feel like you can’t compete with any of it.

you check your phone for the first time in approximately 30 minutes, eager for a distraction. you’re dismayed to see only 3 notifications, one from the boy who seems the root of every current problem in your life, and two from sungchan.

[10:04 AM] bin 🫶: everything ok??

[10:16 AM] sungchani: hey

[10:16 AM] sungchani: we’re all gonna hang out on friday night (as decided by me just now) and u will be coming! (also decided by me just now)

you open your phone, typing a quick response to wonbin about how everything is fine (lie) and sending another short message in hopes of steering the conversation in a different direction. you open the two messages from sungchan, shaking your head as if he’d be able to sense your attitude through the screen.

[10:48 AM] you: who’s “we” exactly…. and what will “we” be doing

[10:50 AM] sungchani: don’t act dumb girl… me, you, taro, seunghan, anton and wonbin obviously. was gonna see if eunseok and sohee could make it but i doubt eunseok would wanna and i think sohee’s doing some group assignment lolol

[10:51 AM] sungchani: as for your other question i was thinking about going to the movies yay or nay? (say yay)

[10:51 AM] you: pass

[10:52 AM] sungchani: perfect see u there!

you don’t bother responding to sungchan’s final message, knowing that no amount of opposition from you would deter him. he’d probably drag you all the way to the theater himself if he had to. but you really don’t want to go, feeling drained from the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since sungchan mentioned sangah for the first time. you’d much rather spent your friday night in bed, trying to give your brain a much needed break. maybe if you really felt like torturing yourself, you’d pull up sangah’s instagram once more.

when class ends, you’re shocked to find anton waiting for you outside of the lecture hall. he’s holding a plastic cup filled with chai tea, leaning against the wall leisurely as he sips through an orange straw. he doesn’t look in your direction, which confuses you, because you’re undoubtedly the reason he’s currently standing outside of your classroom.

“lee anto-“ the boy in question cuts you off by lifting his index finger in front of your face, still not looking at you. you scoff in irritation, not wanting to deal with his antics in your current state.

“you’re coming on friday, yes?” he questions, his voice slightly above a whisper. “not if i don’t have to,” you say, your voice at a normal volume. anton, finally looking you in the eyes, presses his index finger to his lips as if to indicate that you need to be quieter. “you do have to,” he nods.

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “why the hell are you whispering?” you scowl, and he keeps his index finger on his lips. you groan before reluctantly lowering your voice to match his, despite the fact that you still don’t know why he wants you to do so. “what’s going on?” you inquire.

“you have to come on friday,” he repeats quietly, “and you’re gonna tell dark star that you’re in love with him.”

you blink. “who?” anton leans his head back in annoyance before mouthing, “PARK WONBIN.” you recoil for a myriad of reasons. “first of all, i’m not coming on friday,” your voice slightly increases in volume, “and even if i was, i most definitely would not use it as an opportunity to confess to wonbin. and why in the world did you just call him that?” you finish, exasperated.

anton only sips his drink, his aura calm and collected. “you’re going,” he answers pointedly, “because if you don’t, dark star is gonna find out either way.”

your eyes widen and you feel like all of the air has left your lungs. “what do you mean by that? you wouldn’t actually-“

“i would, though. if telling dark star about your crush on him would get you to stop pining after him like a fool, why wouldn’t i? and, in addition,” anton fully turns to you, his voice raising to a light mumble, “i saw the way you reacted when sarah started talking to him earlier.”

“it’s sangah,” you deadpan. anton waves his hand dismissively. “not the point. with the way you acted earlier, you would’ve thought they were getting married right in the middle of that hallway,” he sounds concerned as he speaks the words, not looking anywhere but at you.

“i’m not saying that wonbin— dark star, i mean, has a thing for sandra right now. frankly, i don’t think he cares about her at all,” anton continues, “but if you’re that worried about some random girl taking him away from you when they’ve known each other for like, a week, i think that’s a sign that it might be a good idea to tell him how you’re feeling.”

you look down, letting his words settle into your mind. “i’ll come on friday,” you nod, and the boy in front of you smiles at your words, “but i have to give the whole confessing to wonbin thing a bit more thought. i mean, it’s kind of sudden.” anton’s advice actually made sense, you think, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to tell the boy you’ve been harboring feelings for all this time that you’re in love with him on a random friday night.

“sudden?” anton asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “i think it’s long overdue. fire tornado hector thinks so, too,” he tells you.

you turn to him, dumbfounded. “where the hell are you getting these names from?!”

friday night comes in the blink of an eye and you’re standing in the lobby of the theater with shotaro, anton, seunghan, and sungchan. wonbin is nowhere to be seen.

“i told him 7PM sharp,” sungchan murmurs impatiently, checking his watch. shotaro turns to anton, jokingly hitting the younger boy on the arm with a laugh. “imagine he just decided to stay home,” he chuckles, “i bet y/n would be relieved.”

“why would she be relieved?” seunghan intrudes curiously. anton shrugs. “i told her she had to confess to wonbin tonight,” he says casually, as if he hadn’t just revealed your not-so-secret secret to an unsuspecting seunghan. the older boy’s eyebrows raise at anton’s words, his lips parting.

“you like wonbin?” he questions you eagerly. “dude, i can’t believe you didn’t know by now,” anton answers in your place as you press your lips together. “and we won’t be using the name wonbin when he arrives. he’s dark star. the codename helps when you’re trying to be discreet,” he finishes.

“yeah, because you know all about being discreet, right?” you reply, voice laced with sarcasm. anton knows that you’re referring to the way he had exposed your feelings for wonbin merely 30 seconds ago, avoiding your gaze as he whistles idly.

“sorry i’m late, guys,” the man of the hour exhales as he walks up to the 5 of you. sungchan studies wonbin, unimpressed. the latter can sense his older friend’s agitation, clicking his tongue. “you’ll forgive me once you find out why i’m late,” he assures, “look who i brought with me.”

you can’t prevent the way your heartbeat escalates, both at the mere presence of wonbin and the words that have just left his mouth. you’re unsure if you even want to find out who he’s brought with him, fearing the worst.

“sohee! eunseok!” you hear sungchan exclaim, excitedly making his way over to the two figures that have just entered the theater. he wraps his lengthy arms around both of them simultaneously.

“guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” eunseok muses, returning his friend’s embrace. the three of them return to where you and the others are standing and sungchan scratches the back of his neck. “my bad, man,” he utters bashfully, “the movie we’re watching is pretty lame. didn’t think you’d be into it.”

“still, it’s an excuse to see you guys,” eunseok shrugs, turning to greet everyone else. sohee does the same, wrapping his arms around you before anyone else.

“y/n! it’s been forever,” he grins, you return it. “it’s been… 2 weeks,” you tell him, hugging him back nonetheless. “i still missed you, though,” you hum. “stop hogging him, y/n!” seunghan teases, “we haven’t seen him in weeks either!”

the two of you release each other, and when you turn, wonbin is at your side. he taps your arm. “why don’t you greet me like that?” he feigns jealousy, pursing his lips. you smile at him, hoping to mask your nervousness, “i see you everyday.”

he rolls his eyes. “that doesn’t mean you can’t miss me.”

“i always do,” you say absentmindedly. by the time your words register, wonbin is already grinning. “ditto,” he mutters, his words meant for only you to hear.

he turns away before you can comment, and eunseok takes his place beside you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, greeting you. you think nothing of his actions before he leans down, angling his head so that it’s directly next to your ear. “i heard about healing michael’s plan,” he whispers, “the one about getting you to confess to dark star.”

“please don’t start this,” you plead, “i cannot deal with these nicknames right now. and how do you know about that?”

“um,” he starts, moving his head away from yours, “obviously healing michael filled me in on everything. just because we don’t physically see each other everyday doesn’t mean we don’t have a group chat.” he moves back to the previous topic, “he threatened to tell dark star about how you’re madly in love with him, right? he’s bluffing,” eunseok explains, “if you confess to dark star tonight, it should be because you really love him. not because anton frightened you into doing it.”

you nod at eunseok’s words, unsure. “and,” he continues, “it shouldn’t be about some other girl that might like him, either.” he takes note of the way your eyes widen a fraction. “yeah, anton told me about that, too,” he nods as you make a mental reminder to yell at anton later for airing out your business.

“what i’m saying, y/n, is make sure that you’re telling him how you feel, not for anyone else, but for you. well, and for him. and for you and him, together,” eunseok concludes, “don’t let healing michael or sandy get in the way of it.”

“it’s sangah,” you sigh, in awe of the fact that you’ve had to correct both him and anton. sungchan appears to have heard your final words, perking up at the mention of wonbin’s classmate.

“sangah? we’re talking about sangah?” he blurts out, turning to wonbin with a smile. “bro, we totally should’ve invited her,” he jokes, slapping his friend on the arm, “seeing her and wonbin interact in the theater would’ve been hilarious.” everyone grows tense at sungchan’s teasing— he was somehow still the only one unaware of your feelings for wonbin.

wonbin only shakes his head in response, his first instinct being to look over at you. you’re wearing that same disheartened look on your face as the first time you found out about sangah, and he can hardly breathe. his eyes narrow at the sight of eunseok’s arm still hanging off your shoulders.

“sungchan, when does the movie start? we’ve been standing here for a while,” shotaro states, attempting to alleviate the situation. “oh, we still have about,” sungchan checks the time on his watch, “ten minutes before the trailers even start playing,” he responds.

shotaro ushers the group over to the concession counter, quickly making some excuse about everyone needing to choose their snacks for the movie. “amateurs,” sungchan mutters, “who doesn’t bring their own snacks to the movies?”

wonbin finds his place beside you again, briefly studying your features. he notices the way you stand stiffly in your spot and the slight wrinkle between your brows. “hey,” he tries to get your attention. your eyes soften as they meet his that are flooded with worry. “i’m sorry,” he frowns, “about what happened back there. i don’t know why he keeps mentioning her.”

you’re puzzled and, yet again, asking yourself if he’s apologizing because he knows that you have feelings for him or if it’s because he still thinks you’re upset that he didn’t tell you about sangah sooner.

you prayed that he wasn’t apologizing due to the former, but why would he even need to apologize if it was the latter? if nothing was going on between wonbin and sangah, he had no reason to tell you about her. you press your lips into a tight line. maybe that was it— something was going on between them. that’s why he’s saying sorry to you right now, because he regrets not telling you before when you’re supposed to be one of his closest friends.

and that’s all you’ll ever be to him, because you were too much of a coward to confess to him when you had the chance. you think about how disappointed your friends are going to be once you break the news to them that you wouldn’t be confessing to wonbin tonight, or ever.

“don’t apologize, wonbin,” you quietly tell him, and he wonders why it seems as though you’re about to cry. he shakes his head, getting the sense that you misunderstood his words. he looks back at your mutual friend group, seeing that they’re all preoccupied. wonbin seizes the opportunity, grabbing your hand and taking you to a secluded area of the theater.

“please don’t tell me not to apologize,” he breathes, “because i have so much to apologize to you for.”

you’re confused and concerned, your lips parting slightly. you don’t have the chance to savor the feeling of wonbin’s hand still holding yours because you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever words he’s about to say. this is it, you tell yourself. you stare at the ground, anticipating the feeling of disappointment and rejection.

“i like you so much.”

you stop breathing as the words leave wonbin’s mouth. you’re terrified to look up, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly. he responds to your unvoiced worries by repeating the statement.

“i like you so much, and i’m sorry for holding it in this long,” he says breathlessly, “i’m sorry for letting sungchan talk about sangah all the time, because i didn’t want you to think that i could ever like anyone else.”

he continues despite your silence. “and i’m sorry for telling you all of this in a movie theater, of all places. i’ve been psyching myself up for weeks, but i couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing any longer. i’m tired of misunderstandings.”

he finally takes a deep breath, and you look up at him for the first time. “are you serious?” is all you’re able to say. you want to be 100% sure that your mind isn’t being as cruel as it normally is when it comes to park wonbin.

he nods, appearing to be just as nervous as you are, and you think that’s good enough of an indicator that he’s not joking.

“you fool,” you breath out in utter disbelief, not knowing if your words are directed at wonbin or yourself. the boy looks troubled for a moment before he hears a noise similar to a sob leave your mouth.

you hide your face with your hands. “i was supposed to be the one to confess to you.”

it’s wonbin’s turn to be silent now, listening to you rant. “it was this whole thing— healing michael, dark star.. eunseok knew about it, and shotaro..” you trail off. your words don’t even make sense to yourself, and you doubt they make any sense to the boy in front of you. “my god, wonbin— i’ve liked you since the day i met you!” you cry, hands still obstructing your vision.

wonbin hesitantly takes it upon himself to grab your wrists, removing your hands from your face. “do you mean that?” he asks, trying to meet your gaze.

you don’t look him in the eye as you continue rambling. “i was so scared,” you tell him, “sungchan mentioned her out of nowhere that day and i was so scared. i thought she was your secret girlfriend, or something.” you feel stupid for telling him all of this, finally admitting to your jealousy.

“when i saw her for the first time, i thought it was over,” you shake your head, “someone so pretty having a crush on you? i felt like nothing next to her. sungchan even told me that she wrote down her instagram and casually handed it to you— i’d kill to be that confident in myself,” you’re not even paying attention to the words leaving your mouth anymore, wanting to get everything you’ve been holding in out of your system.

when you finally look at wonbin’s face, he looks sad, which startles you. you’re afraid that you’ve just killed his mood with your venting. “i’m sorry— i didn’t me-“ you’re interrupted by wonbin pulling you to his chest, shaking his head at your words. “you fool,” he repeats your words from minutes ago. “i can’t believe you’ve been feeling that way about yourself.”

he keeps you in his embrace as if you’d run away if he were to let go. “i can’t think of anyone prettier than you,” he mutters, “or nicer, or funnier. or anything, really, because i think of you more than anyone else. i guess it’s my fault, kind of. i could’ve expressed it in ways other than walking you to class and ordering dumb overpriced drinks for you.” you let out a quiet laugh at his last sentence and he smiles, pulling away slightly so he’s able to see your face.

“i guess we’re both kind of stupid,” you conclude, earning a nod from the dark haired boy. “only when it comes to you,” he says, “i happen to think i’m very intelligent on every other occasion.”

when you finally regroup with everyone, they’re all wearing looks of disappointment on their faces. upon asking what happened, eunseok shoves a thumb in sungchan’s direction, the brown haired boy adorning a sheepish expression. “this fucker got the time wrong. the movie was at 6:15, not 7:15,” eunseok grimaces, “i better get a refund for my ticket.”

“you didn’t even pay for it,” wonbin says, “i did. sohee’s, too.”

anton, having been the first one to notice both yours and wonbin’s disappearance from the group, narrows his eyes at the boy. “and where were you?” he raises a brow, attempting to look intimidating. wonbin dismisses him with the wave of a hand.

before you and wonbin decided to rejoin your friends, you had to tell him not to hold your hand, much to his dismay. only after discovering the reason why, did he reluctantly agree.

you stand as far away from wonbin as possible, putting on a melancholy act. shotaro is the first to take notice of this, putting a hand on your shoulder. “did you tell him?” he questions, your silence serving as an answer in itself. eunseok overhears, looking at you with pity in his eyes.

when anton finally sees the distance put between you and wonbin, he concludes that you weren’t able to tell him about your feelings. he sighs, shaking his head.

as if on cue, you look at wonbin with determination burning in your eyes, beginning to advance towards him. the group is silent as they watch the two of you curiously.

“dark star,” you begin straightforwardly, “i’m in love with you.” wonbin tries concealing his laughter as he swiftly takes in the reactions of his friends. eunseok smiles knowingly while anton and shotaro are wide-eyed. seunghan wears an amused expression, sohee’s eyebrows are raised, and on top of it all, sungchan looks incredibly confused.

wonbin, keeping up the act, covers his mouth in mock astonishment. “did you guys hear that?” he turns to his friends, who are now all aware that they’re being pranked. “my girlfriend is in love with me!” wonbin beams, “metal blaze, i accept your confession.”

eunseok clicks his tongue, nodding. “metal blaze, that’s a good one,” he notes under his breath.

“alright, we get it,” anton groans, “it took you guys long enough.” he turns to you, unable to stop a smile from forming. “i hope you know i was never actually going to tell him myself. i only said that in hopes of scaring you into telling him.”

you nod, “eunseok told me that already. and it wasn’t me that confessed to wonbin— he confessed to me.” everyone is shocked at your comment, seunghan walking behind wonbin and giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. you purposefully skip over the fact that you all but cried to wonbin immediately after said confession about how much you liked him in return, and he pinches your side.

“you know, when you guys disappeared, i made a bet with shotaro that you guys were probably making out somewhere,” eunseok adds, “he said you guys were probably just in the middle of the whole confessing thing. i owe him seven bucks now.” shotaro pats him on the back with false sympathy.

as the topic of conversation shifts to something else, sungchan’s jaw is still practically on the floor. he looks at the way wonbin has his arm around your shoulders, head practically buried in your neck. he can’t stop himself from blurting out his next words.

“has y/n had a crush on wonbin this entire time?!”

AUTHOR’S NOTE! congrats to u if u survived reading all that ohhh lord i promise i’ll make y/n less unbearable next time but for now u guys are just gonna have to find it in ur hearts to forgive me… also it’s 5am rn and idk if i hate this fic umm we’ll see if i regret posting this when i wake up tmr

[smileysuh]

sapiosexual

🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. “You’re a beautiful, bright, young woman, and you’re agreeing to be a companion to some middle aged psych nut who hardly has enough time for you-” you both laugh a little at the way he refers to himself, “compensation is a must.”

cw/ tw. daddy kink/issues, size/shoulder/back kink, contractual relationship, unspecified age difference, unprotected sex, choking, semi bondage, multiple sex scenes, fingering, squirting, oral (m/f receiving), baby oil massage, praise, dirty talk, hair pulling, overstim, dacryphilia, slight orgasm denial, hand kink, etc... I pet names. his: daddy. hers: gorgeous, angel, darling, my love, pretty girl, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 18.6k

🍭 aus. psychologist au, non idol au, sugar daddy au, aged up/soft dom cheol, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. dont fuck your psychologist, fuck a psychologist... and try to get a cheque while you do it 👀 (sapiosexual: the attraction to intelligence and broad af shoulders)

1: Wednesday

“I’m here to meet someone- under the name Choi?”

The hostess nods politely. “Mister Choi has been expecting you, right this way.”

Your heart lurches in your chest at her words. While it makes sense that the man you’re meeting for your date had let the host know he’d have a plus one joining him, there’s something in the woman’s diction that suggests a certain kind of familiarity. 

The restaurant you’re in is an expensive one, and the previous man you’d met through the online sugar dating website had made something of a show of being a part owner of a place such as this, treating the staff in a way that demanded obedience- 

You really hope, for everyone’s sake, that the person you’re meeting tonight is much kinder than the last.

The hostess takes you through the main dining section of the establishment and to a more secluded area, where she motions with a hand to the one occupied table by the windows that overlook the city. 

“Your server will come by for your drink order shortly,” she tells you, giving you a quick nod and something of a knowing smile before she returns to her post, allowing you to make the final distance to the table yourself.

The man sitting with his back to you hasn’t turned around, and you take a moment to collect yourself, swallowing thickly. Your eyes scan over his broad shoulders, taking in the pretty tweed suit, the colour of charcoal, and neatly styled black hair. 

You take a deep breath and begin forward.

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you reach the man you’ve been in contact with just under a week- “you know how traffic can be-”

Your words feel jumbled in your mouth as Mr. Choi stands to greet you- because, although you’d been expecting a handsome man, you hadn’t been expecting him to be godlike-

The photos he’d had on the sugar dating site had been ten out of tens, but the man in front of you is a scale breaker. 

He’s even broader up close, and tall too- looking down at you with an amused expression, eyes practically twinkling-

“It’s alright,” he tells you smoothly, voice sexier than you could have ever imagined, “I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too,” you breathe, blinking up at him, etching his angelic features into your brain-

“You look beautiful,” Mr. Choi says, taking in the dress you’d spent three hours picking out-

His eyes don’t linger anywhere in particular, they’re quick to move back up to your face, and part of you almost wishes he’d stared at your chest just a little longer-

“Thank you,” you say, remembering you’ve yet to respond to his compliment.

“Would you like to sit?” he asks next, and you realize you’ve been staring too long, quickly tearing your gaze from him to give a curt nod. 

The two of you take your seats, and you adjust in your chair, letting out a shaky laugh. “I’m also sorry if I’m a little awkward- I feel like my social skills took a hit during the pandemic.” 

The man in front of you nods. “That’s understandable. The aftereffects of global isolation during covid is something that’s going to be studied by psychologists in depth in the coming years. You’re not alone in your feelings, believe me.”

You blink, thinking through his words. “Thank you-” you stutter, “for the reassurance, I mean.”

“Of course,” he nods again. “I think you’ll find I can be very reassuring, if need be.” 

Your skin tingles, and you can’t believe that you’d nearly let your best friend talk you out of this date.

‘Psychologists can be dangerous!’ Seungkwan had insisted, ‘One moment you think he’s your boyfriend, the next he’s hypnotized you to cover up a murder-’

You’d told him to stop rewatching Hannibal.

But you have to admit… Mr. Choi, or Seungcheol, as he’d called himself when he’d first messaged you, he definitely looks like Hannibal. 

Broad, handsome, tweed suit and all-

“I can see you’re thinking hard about something,” the man sitting across from you notes.

“Sorry, I was just-” you bite at your lip, “was just thinking that you’re probably really good at your job.”

His brows raise at this, and then he’s smiling, “Oh?”

“Yeah, you erm- you have a really calming voice and presence, and I mean- obviously you know what you’re talking about-”

“Are you in the market for a psychologist?” 

“No-” you answer quickly, “I mean, I don’t think so- that’s not why I matched with you at least.” 

The amused smile remains on his face, and it’s making it hard for you to look at him- 

He keeps his gaze so fixed on you, and he exudes confidence on top of the calm- 

Confidence that’s making your heart thump louder and louder in your chest-

“Hello, Mr. Choi,” the arrival of your waiter breaks the building tension you’re feeling. The question “How has your evening been so far?” confirms that Seungcheol knows the staff, and the pleasant way in which he responds tells you that you’re on a date with a good man. 

After a brief back and forth, Mr. Choi orders himself an Old Fashioned, and you ask for a gin and tonic.

Then, you’re once more alone with the man whose gaze is enough to have your pussy clenching with interest-

“I saw you were new to the site,” Seungcheol notes, and you can’t believe he’d bothered to look for that information on your profile, let alone remember it. “How’s your experience been so far?”

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. “If I’m being honest, I talked to one person for a while, and when we met, he turned out to be- just- not a good person. So when you favourited me, and I thought you looked nice, I told myself it would be better to meet up in person without too much back and forth first.” 

“That sounds logical,” he agrees. “I’m sorry your first experience wasn’t what you thought it would be, but there is a silver lining, you’re here now.” 

“I’m here now,” you echo with a smile, and the waiter returns with your beverages.

Seungcheol had invited you for drinks and dessert. Seungkwan had insisted that meant drinks and sex, but your view of things is proved to be correct when Mr. Choi orders the ‘dessert tasting menu’ and the waiter scurries off again. 

“Should we make a toast?” you ask, allowing your eyes to trail over Seungcheol’s handsome face- his strong brow and pretty lips-

“We should,” he confirms, grabbing his glass and lifting it, “what would you like to toast to?”

“Being here now.”

“To being here now.” Seungcheol allows the lip of his glass to clink gently against your own before bringing it to his mouth, and you each drink to the moment.

“So,” you say when you set your cup down, “why drinks and dessert instead of dinner?”

“Dinners can be long, and full of expectations,” he tells you. “Drinks and dessert allows you to leave earlier, if you’d like to.”

“You seem like the kind of man who has everything figured out,” you muse.

The side of his mouth quirks into a charming half smile, and he leans forward slightly in his chair, assessing you with dark eyes- “Does that excite you?”

“Yes-” the word slips out before you can stop it.

The man in front of you leans back, satisfied. 

“What, exactly, are you looking for right now?” he prompts. “Your bio was… somewhat vague.”

“I guess-” you take a sip of your drink. “I guess it depends on who it is.”

“How about you start by telling me your thought process behind creating an account,” he suggests.

You’re momentarily distracted by the way his thumb rubs up and down the side of his cup- dragging through droplets of condensation gathered on the glass-

“My best friend loves Marilyn Monroe,” you find yourself saying.

This is clearly not the answer Seungcheol had expected, as he quirks that inquisitive brow of his at your words, and you’re quick to continue. 

“His favourite movie of hers is Gentlemen Prefer Blondes- and I’m not kidding, he’s been bleaching his hair since the tenth grade because of it- and there’s this quote- something like- ‘it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man.’ And I just sort of thought- I’m tired of putting a lot into relationships with people who give nearly nothing in return. At least with something like this- I’d be guaranteed something- you know?”

“It sounds like you’ve spent a lot of your life trying to make other people happy,” he notes smoothly. “I can understand why you’d want to be on the receiving end. Everyone deserves reciprocation.” 

He pauses, swirling his glass, but you can tell there’s something else on his mind, and you wait on the edge of your seat for more.

“From what you’ve said,” his thumb runs up the glass again, “it sounds to me like you’re looking for a contractual type of situation, moreso than a verbal agreement. Something with that added stability.”

“That’s correct,” you nod.

The last man hadn’t ever brought up contracts or boundaries or any of the things that are mentioned when you’d looked up what sugar babying entails. 

You’re enthralled by the professional way Mr. Choi is handling himself, and you’re enjoying his crystal clear communication.

“What-” you lick your lips, “what are you looking for?” 

“As you know, I’m a psychologist,” he states. “The job comes with a lot of responsibility. I take care of a number of people with quite severe conditions, and unfortunately, regardless of my intentions, this means I’ve had less time and energy to give to people in my own life.”

He pauses to take a breath and a sip of his whisky before continuing.

“I had a fiance for a time, but it became clear to me that she wanted a child. At the time, I wasn't ready to give up my work to be present in the way a developing mind would need. I’ve been looking for a sugar baby who would understand my lifestyle. Someone to meet with once or twice a week, who would provide happy company and the emotional closeness all human beings desperately need, without some of the… expectations that traditional relationships have. Does this sound like something that could interest you?”

You find yourself quickly nodding.

“Good,” he smiles warmly at you. “I’d love to explore the exact details of a contract over drinks, and we can choose a day to do that, but for now, if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to switch the topic and focus on you a little more.”

“On me?” you blink- 

Mr. Choi’s grin widens, and the warmth meets his eyes. “Yes, you. I think it’s safe to say we’re both physically attracted to each other, but I want to know more about who you are, inside that pretty body of yours.”

You can feel your skin heating from his compliment, and you avert your gaze, grabbing at your drink to take a sip and cool yourself. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with the things that make you happiest.”

2: Thursday

“Look who finally decided to answer,” your best friend sighs loudly when you put him on speaker, and you can imagine his classic Seungkwan eye roll.

“I was sleeping,” you tell him, which only succeeds in earning you a scoff.

“And I have been waiting for details about your date since last night!” 

“I sent you a text saying it was good!”

“And then you put your phone on silent you whore!” your best friend screams, making you laugh at his antics- then his voice dips. “Did you fuck him?” 

“No, of course not-”

“You sound like you’re lying.”

“I’m not, I promise-” you roll onto your back and look up at your ceiling, letting out a breath. “Drinks and dessert literally meant drinks and dessert.” 

“Did he at least- I don’t know, feed you some of the dessert?”

“No.” 

“Oh.” The line is quiet for a moment. “Well that’s anti-climactic.”

You laugh. “First you wanted me going on dates with sugar daddies, then you were weird about Seungcheol, now you’re wishing I had fucked him-” 

“Well- did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Was he hot?”

You groan. “So fucking hot you don’t even know-” 

“Then I do wish you’d fucked him- you’re my best friend, and you deserve to get laid,” Seungkwan says plainly. “Also- I was only weird about this Seungcheol guy because he’s a therapist-”

“Psychologist.”

“Same thing- the point is, he’s a guy with power and a brain- that can be a deadly combination.” 

“I thought I told you to stop watching Hannibal,” you smile, enjoying the way Seungkwan turns everything into life or death.

He scoffs at your words, disregarding them. “So tell me about your date.”

“Like I said, it was good. I got there, we ordered drinks, he’s obviously like- super smart. We talked a little bit about why we’re on the site-”

“Why is he on the site? If he’s hot, rich, and smart?” Seungkwan asks. “Shouldn’t he be with- I don’t know… someone his own age? How old was he again?”

“Mid to late thirties- and there’s a reason for it actually. He mentioned a fiance who wanted kids- I think women ‘his age’ are all looking for a family, but he’s very… invested in his work,” you explain.

 “Oh. Huh.” You listen to the cogs in Seungkwan’s brain turning. “So- I guess he just wants a sugar baby to work around his busy schedule?”

“He’s looking for a companion-” you say, “but, you know, someone who can handle the fact that his work comes first.” 

“Right.” A beat, then; “So did you guys talk money?” 

“Seungkwan!”

“What!?” he yells back. “Quit beating around the bush!” 

“He didn’t just- whip a wad of cash out and give it to me,” you laugh. “He paid for everything of course, and we agreed to discuss a contract over drinks-”

“When?”

“Actually-” you look down at your phone, which has just buzzed, scanning the new text. “Coincidently, he’s texting me now.”

“Oooh! What’s he saying?!” 

“He said, ‘I really enjoyed your company last night. Would you like to join me for drinks tomorrow at eight?’” 

“Wow, this dude works fast- are you sure you didn’t suck him off or anything?”

“Seungkwan!” 

“I just mean- two dates in three days- this is fast.”

“Yeah well,” you shrug while texting out a confirmation response for Seungcheol, “if you’d seen Mr. Choi in person, you’d be hoping things go fast too.”

“Is he really that sexy? This isn’t just- your old man kink?”

“I dont have an old man kink-”

“Sure you don’t.”

You groan. “Seungkwan, just trust me. This man-” you swallow thickly, “he could choke me out- and I’d say thank you daddy.”

“Right, but let’s hope he doesn’t though.” 

3: Friday

Part of you isn’t surprised that Seungcheol has a study in his home, but another part of you wonders if this man is really someone you should be entertaining, with his shelves of psychology texts and autobiographies written by renowned people in his field- and the framed degrees and papers of certification-

Seungcheol is the real deal; it’s clear as day and reflected in his home.

He gives you a tour of the main floor, moving from the study to the dining room, and despite your ardent attempt at listening- it’s hard to focus. 

If he’d been godlike in the charcoal tweed suit when you’d first met him- well, you don’t even know how to describe how well he fits into a plain white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose strong, bulky forearms- and then there’s the way the material stretches over his deliciously broad shoulders every time he turns his back to you-

“Now that I’ve given you a small tour, why don’t you take a seat,” he says as you enter his kitchen. “And I’ll grab us drinks. What are you feeling? Wine, water, beer, champagne-”

“Whatever you think is best,” you tell him, a little overwhelmed by the effect his home is having on you- 

The effect he is having on you. 

“I think I’d like to give you champagne,” he says, turning his back to you to open his fridge.

You find yourself nearly drooling at the brief moments you’re able to gawk at his shoulders again- and when he faces you, your eyes immediately zero in on his hands as they begin to fiddle with the bottle-

“Has anyone ever talked you through opening a bottle of champagne before?” he asks.

Your eyes meet briefly and you feel your skin heat when you admit, “not really- is there a specific way to do it?”

“I’m not sure if there’s one specific way,” Seungcheol chuckles a little, looking down at his task. “At ceremonies, sometimes they’ll use a sword and knock the top of the neck clean off- but for our purposes, and to avoid breaking anything with the cork if it shoots off, I prefer utilizing the cork cage,” he runs his fingers across the metal contraption on top of the bottle. “The trick is to unwind it most of the way, but keep it on so when you manuever the cork up-” his thumb runs along the seem, working at it- “it pops,” there’s a loud sound, “but it gets caught by the cork cage, and then, both are easily removed.”

He’d done the motion so professionally- a man who’s opened many a champagne bottle in his time. 

Seungcheol seems to be an expert of everything - a true wealth of knowledge - and it’s one of the sexiest things you’ve ever experienced. 

You watch him pour two glasses of the bubbly liquid, and then he gingerly slides one across the marble island countertop, “I think you’ll enjoy this.”

He watches you with an amused expression while you raise the champagne to your lips, and when your eyes widen at the taste, he grins.

“It’s really good,” you say, toying with the stem of your glass. 

Now it’s your turn to watch him take a sip- and you’re blown away by how sexy he can be while simply drinking- his adam’s apple bobbing-

You wanna lick his neck.

You wanna lick his neck so bad-

“Should we get down to business?” he asks.

You wanna get down on something- and it’s not business. 

“Er- yes, we should,” you agree, shifting the way you’re seated on the bar stool at his counter-

Your panties are sticking to your core and it’s a little uncomfortable- 

You have no idea how this night is going to pan out, no idea if you’ll actually end up in his bed- so you’ve worn a beautiful, silky, matching set- its one drawback is the way the material sticks to  you when you’re even slightly aroused- and you’ve been aroused since the moment Seungcheol opened the door to his home and invited you in.

“Since this is a contract we’re making together, I held myself back from writing one up,” he explains. “I was thinking we could discuss it verbally, and I’ll write up a copy of what we’ve talked about after you go home tonight-” 

You feel your expression fall a little and Seungcheol pauses, expert eyes assessing you. 

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No,” you assure him, swallowing thickly and averting your gaze, “that sounds like a good idea.”

There are a few more moments of silence, and then Seungcheol rests both hands on the countertop, leaning forward, voice dipping when he says, “Darling, as much as I’d love for you to stay over tonight, I promised myself I wouldn’t fuck you until the third date.” 

Your skin feels electrified, and you gawk at the gorgeous man, who looks down at you with an amused grin.

You nearly shock yourself when the words “why not?” tumble past your lips, and his affectionate smile widens at your question.

“We’ve hardly discussed expectations,” he answers smoothly. “It would be… unwise for me to skip those important steps, to give you time to consider your options.”

“My options?”

“I am older than you,” he points out, “and there’s still a chance you might decide you want someone who can give you more of his time. I want you to be sure about all of this.”

“I am sure,” you insist.

“You think you are,” he muses, bringing his champagne to his lips, “but until you see a finalized document, you shouldn’t be agreeing to anything.”

“You won’t hurt me-” you tell him, “I trust you.”

“Although we only just met,” he points out. “If you trust me at all, trust in this process, okay, Sweetheart?”

You swallow any words of insistence that threaten to bubble up out of you, nodding and taking a sip of your own drink.

“So,” he lets out a sigh, “we discussed a few of my expectations when we first met, do you remember what they were?”

“You were looking for a companion of sorts, who could manage you being at work frequently,” you respond, feeling pleased when he nods and smiles at you. “Someone to meet up with once or twice a week.”

“Very good, Angel,” he praises you. “While it’s implied, I’d like to solidify what you might call a key condition.”

You’re practically on the edge of your seat, waiting for him to continue, your interest piqued.

“Any contract you’d sign would come with a loyalty clause.” He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your own. “Do you understand what that entails?”

“I think so,” you nod. “It would be an agreement that while I’m seeing you, I wouldn’t be entertaining anyone else. We’d be exclusive.”

“That’s my smart girl,” he smiles. “Even though I don’t have much time for you, I’d provide for you to live comfortably when I’m not around, in the hopes that, when we are together, we’re both committed to making the best of it.” 

You love the way that sounds.

“Which brings me to my next point,” he continues, “monthly allowances. I’ll cover your food, rent, utilities- anything you need, and provide extra spending money for clothing, jewelry, etcetera.” 

“Wow, that’s-” you feel your eyes widening, “that’s very generous of you.”

“It’s really not,” he insists. “You’re a beautiful, bright, young woman, and you’re agreeing to be a companion to some middle aged psych nut who hardly has enough time for you-” you both laugh a little at the way he refers to himself, “compensation is a must.”

You have to stop yourself from happily chirping an ‘if you say so daddy’ at the man that is so close to becoming everything you’ve ever wanted for yourself-

“On top of our one-on-one interactions,” Seungcheol says, “I’d also like for you to accompany me to professional events, but I’d need you to be discreet. On top of a loyalty clause, I might have you sign a nondisclosure act- how does that sound to you?”

You consider it for a moment. “I’m not the type to go tell people about my personal life- and other than my best friend, no one even knows I was on the sugar site-”

“Your friend who loves Marilyn Monroe and bleaches his hair?” Seungcheol asks with an amused expression.

“You remembered-” you laugh, heart warming to know how many details he’s held onto in regard to your first meeting.

“The NDA can exclude your close friend, we all need a confidant.”

“Thank you,” you swallow, “I think- if it allows me to talk to Seungkwan, signing a NDA would be okay.”

“Perfect,” Seungcheol nods, drinking the last of his champagne. “We’ve covered a few of the most important parts of an agreement, so I think maybe now is a good time to grab another important document that I need you to look over.”

“Oh?”

“Stay here for a moment, I’ll be right back,” Seungcheol assures you, flashing you a quick wink before exiting the kitchen.

It’s almost torturous to be alone anywhere in Seungcheol’s home without him, and part of you is inclined to follow him around like a lost, needy puppy-

You finish your drink while you wait, taking breaths to calm yourself, afterall, he’d said he wouldn’t be fucking you tonight- therefore, there’s not much for you to worry about.

Seungcheol returns shortly, holding a dark leather file folder, which he offers to you.

“What’s this?” you ask, not wanting to open it without being prompted to- but your curiosity is as high as ever.

“Separate from our sugar agreement, this is a bdsm contract. It has a list of kinks and other things, as well as a section for you to fill out, detailing what you’re comfortable - and more importantly - what you’re uncomfortable with. I’d like you to take it home, look it over, and if you have any questions, let me know.”

“Right-” you stand up, holding the file folder to your chest-

Any words that you were thinking of saying disappear when you look up at Seungcheol, once more marveling at your size difference and how beautiful he is-

“You’re easily distractable,” he grins, pinching at your chin gently, “aren’t you, Angel?”

“Yes sir,” you mumble-

Easily dazed too.

“My driver will take you home now,” the (much too sexy) psychologist tells you. “His name is Seokmin, you’ll probably have to remind him to give you his number. He’ll be available to you from now on if you need to go anywhere.”

“You have a driver?” you blink- shocked at how he’s able to afford all of this-

You realize he must come from old money- and you’re appalled you hadn’t noticed it before.

He doesn’t carry himself in the way a man who’d made a name for himself would- he has an air of confidence- a confidence that runs deep and is backed up by family money.

“Yes, darling,” Seungcheol grins, “we have a driver.”

4: Saturday

You’ve always loved having movie night with your best friend, but tonight, he’s not interested in movies. Seungkwan is easily distractable - a little like you, you suppose - and when you’d arrived over an hour ago, he’d immediately insisted on knowing every detail about your experience with the man he now refers to as ‘Psych daddy.’

On top of being distractable, Seunkwan is easy to please, and you manage to avoid mentioning the BDSM contract for a good long while, instead focusing on Seungcheol’s hot driver, who Seungkwan finds on instagram within five minutes.

“No way- first Psych Daddy is a ten out of ten, and now his driver is hot too?” Seungkwan bellows while mad scrolling through Seokmin’s profile. “Are you sure we’re not in some weird porn dream? You’re not gonna get tag teamed are you?”

“Seungkwan!” you scream, gently smacking him across the shoulder in shock.

“We were both thinking it!” he insists, shoving you back.

“I’ll have you know that we were not both thinking it,” you state with just as much certainty. 

“But you mentioned how nice the guy was when he dropped you off last night and we called for like five minutes before you hung up on me to go to bed!”

“Yeah, in the context that Seungcheol is really nice to everyone that works for him, despite being-”

“One of the youngest, sexiest psych daddies in the city, yeah, yeah-” Seungkwan waves his hand, “Stop rubbing it in.”

“Have you been researching my boyfriend again?” you ask, thoroughly amused.

“Boyfriend?” Seunkwan eyes you up and down, sneering. “Is that what we call dom daddies now?” 

“If he makes you sign a loyalty clause and a NDA, I think I can call him whatever I want, can’t I?” you point out. “And you avoided my question- you’ve definitely been googling Cheol again.”

“Been googling myself to pictures of pysch daddy-” Seungkwan says suggestively before asking, “He made you sign an NDA?”

“Not yet,” you sigh, “and don’t worry, we’ve discussed it and it will exclude you- I can tell you anything I want to.”

“Shit, did you tell him my name? Do you think he’ll accept me as a patient if he knows I’m your best friend?”

“Since when do you need a psychologist?” you laugh.

“Uh,” Seungkwan’s brows raise, “Bestie, have you seen my life? I definitely need someone to confide in who knows what the fuck he’s talking about.”

“Ouch,” you touch your heart, pretending to be wounded. “Since when did you not like crack gremlin advice?”

“Since you put down your crack gremlin hat and became a sugar baby to a hot psychologist,” Seungkwan sighs, taking one last look at Seokmin’s grinning face before he puts his phone down and focuses entirely on you. “But go back a few steps and talk to me about this loyalty clause- psych daddy sends you home with a ton of papers to sign, huh?”

“More than you could imagine.”

Your best friend looks you up and down with suspicion, brow raising in a silent prompt for more info.

When you remain quiet, Seungkwan sighs. “Fine, don’t tell me,” but after a beat, he asks, “Was it a sex list or something?”

You’re always stunned by how intuitive your best friend can be.

Upon reading your reaction, Seungkwan’s eyes widen and he grabs at your arm, nearly jumping with excitement. “No way!” he yells in your ear. “He did send you home with a sex list! Show me, show me, show me!” 

You look to your bag and before you can even reach for it, Seungkwan is darting past you and retrieving the papers. “Holy shit-” he breathes, scanning the document with eyes full of something like perverted excitement. “A checklist for kinks?”

“Yup.”

“Choking, yes. Spanking, fuck yeah- bondage-” he grins at you, “looks like someone’s a little slut for psych daddy.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, reaching for the papers, but he launches himself off the couch to evade you. “If you’re gonna be like this, I don’t want to show you.”

“Fine, I’ll be nice,” Seungkwan says, but he’s still reading the list, and his voice is lacking any real sincerity. “Okay so most of these are straightforward-”

“You watch way too much porn,” you sigh.

He practically growls at you. “As I was saying- most of these are straightforward, and you’ve filled out the ones I would have expected you to- but some of these are things even I have never heard of- like, what the fuck is…” he carefully sounds out the next word, “Quirofilia?”

“Honestly- the ones I didn’t know about, I just sort of skipped over, hoping maybe you would know- but…” you can’t stop the sly grin that works its way onto your lips, “I guess Cheol did say I could call him if I had any questions…”

“At this point, it’s almost like this list is purposefully vague on some kinks-” Seungkwan sighs, joining you on the couch again. “I bet Psych daddy has been waiting for you to call him for extra clarification.”

“We could google it,” you point out.

“Definitely not,” Seungkwan says quickly. “Call daddy, and put him on speaker.”

“Oh, so he’s just daddy now?” you tease, pulling out your phone. 

“Call him.”

“Hmm… maybe I’ll text,” you decide. “He could be busy.”

“That’s no fun,” Seunkwan whines, pouting out his lower lip.

“Too bad,” you tell him, typing in a quick message. “I said, ‘hey, whenever you have time, I have a few questions about some of the terms on the kink list.’”

“Add a smiley face,” your friend urges, “so he knows it’s like- good questions.”

You add a happy emoji, and hit send. Then you put your phone down, reaching for the papers from Seungkwan. 

“He might not answer anytime soon-” you say- just as your phone buzzes the familiar ringtone that you’ve only given to one person.

Both you and Seungkwan stare at your ringing phone, and then your best friend grins at you. 

“This guy is so whipped for you it’s crazy- are you sure you haven’t sucked his dick?”

“Oh my god stop!” you groan, “and be quiet or I can’t answer-”

“I’ll be quiet,” he insists, pretending to lock his mouth shut and throw away the key.

With one final warning glare, you turn your focus to your phone, answering the call. “Hello?” 

“Hey, gorgeous,” comes Seungcheol’s unmistakable smooth drawl- god, he makes your mouth fucking water- “So you got around to looking at the kink list.”

He’s so god damned confident- and when you look up at Seungkwan, you see he’s just as shook by your new lover as you are.

“Uh, yes,” you clear your throat. “There are just a few terms I’m unfamiliar with, and- I know I could look them up, but you said to call you if I had questions-”

“Of course Angel, I’d love to help talk you through it.”

Your panties are wet.

They’re wet, and your best friend is nearly falling off the couch from how seductive your new sugar daddy is.

“What kinks are you unfamiliar with?” Seungcheol prompts, and you can practically hear him smiling at the way he’s taking your breath away on a freaking phone call- 

“There’s this one,” your eyes scan over the word Quirofilia, and you do your best not to mangle it the way Seungkwan had when you relay it to Cheol.

“Quirofilia,” he repeats, teaching you the proper pronunciation with the calm, pleasant tone you’re starting to fall in love with. “It’s another term for a hand kink.”

Now it’s your turn to echo, and you say “A hand kink,” while blinking at your friend.

“Yes, angel,” Seungcheol chuckles on the other end. “If you check off the box for receiving, you’d indicate that you’d be more than comfortable with me touching you frequently. For lack of a better term, it goes hand in hand with a number of other kinks- spanking and choking for example, or finger sucking.”

“And for giving?” you question, having already checked off a yes for what he’s just described.

“For giving…” he clears his throat, “well, you’d let me pay for you to get manicures- maybe let me choose the colours and styles-” there’s another pause, then “I have to admit, I did notice that you have nice hands the first night we met.”

“Really?” your heart lurches in your chest and Seungkwan grabs a pillow to bite while listening in on a conversation that’s getting sexier and sexier- “What did you like about them?”

“They’re smaller than mine, for one. I’m sure we can both imagine how pretty they’d look wrapped around something… substantially bigger.” 

Your best friend spasms, practically screaming into the pillow, and you can’t help the way your own jaw drops at the statement- 

Are you about to have phone sex with Cheol in front of your best friend?

Do you need to get a room?

“We can discuss it in detail when I see you next,” Seungcheol says, cutting off your horny thoughts. “Are there any other kinks you’ve had trouble with?”

“I mean-” part of you wants to go through the whole list and pretend not to know things just to keep him on the phone- “if we’re going to discuss these all in detail when I see you next- maybe I should just wait till then?”

You can’t believe you’re cock blocking yourself just because Seungkwan is here.

“We can do that,” Seungcheol says smoothly. 

In the background, you hear someone say his name, and you find yourself asking, “did I catch you at a bad time?” suddenly worried you’ve interrupted something important.

“Of course not, angel, I wouldn’t have called you if I couldn’t step away for a few minutes.” There’s a pause then, “I’m at a conference this weekend, flew out this morning.”

“Oh,” your heart deflates a little.

“I was tempted to invite you,” Seungcheol says, calming the uneasiness you’re feeling. “But seeing as you’ve not signed anything, and I already had plans with colleagues, I figured this wouldn’t be the best first trip to take you on.”

This excites you again. “Do you have somewhere specific in mind for a first trip?”

“Somewhere warm,” he answers smoothly, a small chuckle following a moment later. “Anyways, I won’t be that available tomorrow, you caught me at a good moment tonight.”

“Well… will you be back on Monday?” you question.

Another small laugh, then, “Are you that eager to see me, gorgeous?”

“Maybe.” You eye Seungkwan who’s still screaming into the pillow. “But I mean- I remember what you said about needing a sugar baby that fits your schedule, so, I don’t want to pressure you to see me the day you get back from a work conference-”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, angel,” his smooth voice calms your anxieties. “I do have quite a busy week, a few things aren’t pinned down yet, can I let you know when I have more details?”

“Yes, of course-” you bite at your lip. “I should let you get back to your colleagues- thanks for calling me and talking me through uh- Quirofilia.”

You hear him take a deep breath, and then, Seungcheol lets out something like a groan- “I’m tempted to ask what you checked off for it.”

His words go straight to your pussy and after a moment of silence you ask, “Do you want me to tell you?”

“No,” he responds, “It will give me something to think about tonight if you don’t tell me.”

“Okay,” you grin at the way he’s toying with himself- ego fuelled by the idea of him thinking about you- “I’m excited to talk more about this with you when I see you next.”

“Me too, angel.”

“Have a great time at your conference daddy.” 

You slap a hand over your mouth, eyes widening at the way the term of endearment just slipped out of you-

Seungcheol lets out a deep sigh that betrays how much the word has affected him, and he sounds less composed than normal when he says, “Thank you, precious, enjoy your evening.”

You hang up, and as soon as you have, Seungkwan goes ballistic, practically pouncing at you while screaming, “That was too sexy! You guys are too sexy, what the hell!?”

Laughing at his antics is easy- pretending your panties aren’t ruined is another story.

5: Sunday

The ringtone that makes your whole body tingle with anticipation is becoming more and more familiar, and you practically launch yourself across your bed to answer your phone.

“Hi.”

A small chuckle, and a breath, then, “Hey you.”

“How's your conference going?” you ask, having not expected to hear from Cheol today.

“Good. It’s over, we finished the last meet up just before dinner. What are you up to?”

You grin to yourself, playing with the book in your lap. “I’m reading your most recent publication.”

“My most recent publication?” you can hear him smiling now too, and you enjoy the way he teases your choice of phrase. “Since when were you going out and buying my books, darling?”

“Since I saw how many you’ve done- when you showed me your library. I went out this morning and got two.”

“You could have asked, and I would have given you them for free… with a detailed note from the author.” 

“I was eager to begin reading,” you admit. “And you’re so busy- I’m still not sure when I’m seeing you next.”

“That’s actually why I called. I took a look at my schedule, and I’ve got options for you.”

“Ooh! I love options.” 

Another smile you can hear through the phone, and your heart beats a little faster. 

“I can see you alone on Friday, it’s the earliest day I have available- but if you’d like, you can accompany me to a get-together with my work colleagues on Wednesday. I know you haven’t signed any papers and we haven’t discussed anything in detail yet but… I have a good feeling about you, angel, and I’d enjoy having you there.”

“Then of course I’ll go with you to the get-together,” you announce, grinning like a school girl at the inklings of praise he bestows on you.

“That’s wonderful news, gorgeous.” - you love it when he calls you pretty pet names - “I’m sorry that this call can’t be longer- but I’ll see you Wednesday- and I’m sure I’ll find a reason to call you before then.”

“Yes, please.” 

He laughs, and the sound has your core buzzing with interest- how the hell is Seungcheol so sexy without even trying?

“Have a good night, angel, and don’t read too much of my book- they’re all depressing.”

“They’re informative,” you insist. “Have a wonderful night Cheol, and thanks for calling.”

6: Monday

“Hi.” 

You’ve gotta stop answering your phone with a full grin- but every time Seungcheol calls you, you can’t help but get warm and fuzzy all over.

“Hi, angel.” 

And wet. Wet all over. 

Wet where it counts.

“I was just thinking about you,” you confess, toying with the page of his book that you’ve been reading.

“Funny, I was just thinking about you,” he responds, “and I have been, all day. It’s quite distracting actually.”

“Really?” Your heart leaps again.

“I was thinking about getting you something to wear to the party on Wednesday- was going to get Seokmin to drop it off at your place, but then… I realized how much I’d rather see you and give you the dress in person, to see your reaction.”

This man gives you full on heart palpitations- and it takes everything in you to clear your throat and ask, “so does this mean I’ll see you before Wednesday, or?”

“I mean… I don’t want to assume you’re free every night- but if you’re not otherwise busy tomorrow-”

“I always have time for you daddy,” you smile, “and I’ll sign a contract to prove it.”

He lets out a shaky breath, and you love that you’re having an effect on him. “That’s good to hear sweetheart. I’ll move a few things around. How does seven sound?”

“Seven sounds perfect.”

“And it will be a longer stay this time. I know I kept our last interaction at my home brief- but if you bring all the documents I gave you, we can…” he clears his throat, “discuss them in full, tomorrow, if you’d like”

“I’d love that,” you admit.

“Seokmin will be at your place to pick you up at seven then, angel. I can’t wait to see you.”

“I can’t wait either.”

7: Tuesday

Seungcheol is a man who strives for perfection. From his home and work, all the way down to the pretty present he’s gotten for you, the box wrapped in a golden bow-

And when you open your gift to reveal an expensive red fabric just itching to be touched- you think there’s a possibility that you might very much be in love with the psychologist already.

“It’s beautiful-” you breathe, pulling the silky garment from its box to assess the length and style.

“You were wearing red when we first met,” Seungcheol tells you, “I thought to myself that I’d never seen such a gorgeous girl- when I invited you to the gettogether tomorrow, I knew there was only one colour I truly wanted to see you in.”

Your heart is having palpitations, you swear- 

“Do you-” you swallow thickly, looking up at him, “do you want me to try it on for you now?” 

It’s his turn to take a shaky breath, and after a stagnant pause, he shakes his head, “No. I think I’d like to be surprised tomorrow- besides, after we get done looking over the papers and contracts, I feel as if we’d both prefer you to be taking off clothes rather than putting them on.” 

He’s right about that.

You only wish you’d known about his affinity for the color red before you’d chosen a black lingerie set, knowing that tonight would be the night he’d finally strip you bare-

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. You honestly can’t- and all these paper signings- they’re just a formality for you. 

As far as you’re concerned, Cheol is the one- or at least, he could be the one. 

Or maybe he’s just the ‘for now,’ but regardless, for now, you want to be ravenously fucking him-

“My easily distractable darling,” he gently pinches at your chin, pulling you from your dirty thoughts. “Let’s see the papers.”

After putting the dress back in its box, you grab the purse you’d arrived with. It’s large enough to hold the folder with the documents, which you pull out next, setting it down on Seungcheol’s kitchen counter. 

“I see you’ve printed out the other documents I sent you since we last met,” he says, and you can hear the pride in his voice that you’d gone a step above and beyond what he’d asked of you. 

After your last date, wherein you’d gotten the kink list, he’d sent you an email with a link to a contractual pdf. Once you’d gone over the contract in detail on your computer, you’d printed it out, eager to sign your name- but you’d been patient, knowing he’d probably want to witness your signature being jotted down on the dotted line.

“I’m ready to sign them,” you tell him, also pulling a pen out of your purse-

“Eager angel,” he smiles, taking the seat on the barstool next to yours. “Are you sure you don’t want to read it all over one more time?”

“I’m sure,” you tell him, angling your body towards his and fiddling with your pen. 

“Alright,” Seungcheol nods, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down, his forearms flexing. “How about you let me sign first, then you can do your own signature.”

You hold out your pen, which he accepts, and you watch the way he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose when he looks down at the contract. His eyes scan over the document, and a moment later, the ballpoint pen is gliding languidly across the dotted line, his signature solidified in a binding agreement. 

“There we go,” he says smoothly, holding the pen out for you to take.

Within seconds, two signatures are on the contract, and your heart is racing just a little faster in anticipation of what’s to come next.

“And now to look over your kink list,” Seungcheol breathes, moving the signed papers to the side. 

Your heart lurches when he picks up the sheet you’ve filled in, and you stay silent while his eyes move over each line of information. 

“As much as these all interest me,” he says, “I’m pleased to see you’ve checked off giving and receiving for quirofilia.” His large hand moves to rest on top of your thigh, and he gives you a gentle squeeze, eyes shifting from the paper to your own. “Will you allow me to book a manicure for you tomorrow? In preparation for the get-together?”

“Yes, please,” you rest your hand on top of his own.

“We’ll have to get your nails matching your new dress,” he tells you smoothly, setting the paper down in favour of pushing a strand of hair away from your face, his index finger gently gliding past your cheekbone. “And there will be another present for you tomorrow.”

“Another?” you’re nearly dizzy from how well he treats you-

“Another,” he confirms, taking off his glasses to set down before standing from the bar stool. 

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” you ask, allowing him to prompt you to your own feet, both of his hands gently capturing your own.

Seungcheol gives his head a small shake, a smile on his lips when he responds with a “no.”

Something inside of you deflates slightly at the fact that he’s withholding information from you, and you can’t help the way you pout your lower lip out - just a little - in an effort to perhaps make him change his mind-

“Come on, angel,” Seungcheol laughs, pinching your chin and forcing you to look up at him. His dark chocolate colored eyes are swimming with adoration, and his small half smile is breathtaking- “you can be patient for one more day, can’t you?”

“Depends what for,” you admit, reaching your free hand out to hook your fingers in the front of his belt, pulling yourself closer to the man who’s as solid as any brick wall you’ve ever seen-

“Patience for the next present,” he clarifies, gaze dipping down to your lips as you move even closer to him- “not for anything else.”

“Promise?” you ask, pushing onto your tip toes- mouths even closer-

“Promise,” Seungcheol says, finally closing the distance between you.

His lips are soft- he’s a gentleman, and his hand moves from your chin to be cupping the nape of your neck, the other smoothing down to the small of your back. 

It’s chaste kissing- too chaste for you, and you wrap your arms around the back of his own neck, pressing your chest up against his.

You don’t want any more distance between you, and you especially don’t want to wait any longer for this man to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you.

“Cheol-” you groan, allowing him to tilt your head and slide his tongue along your lower lip.

“Yes, angel?” His voice is so deep and sexy, the vibrations of it going straight through from his chest to your own and then down to your tingling core-

“Daddy, please-” 

“I would ask you to use your words, but now that you’ve filled out your kink list-” he swallows thickly, gently pressing his forehead to yours, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’d enjoy.”

In the back of your mind, you remember that you’d said yes to most of the kinks on the list- so you’re not sure how - exactly - he’s going to narrow it down and decide on what to do to you today- but there’s another part of you that trusts him fully.

Tonight is going to be a night to remember, regardless of what kinks he fulfills for you.

“Wait-” your hands move from his strong shoulders to the front of his dress shirt, toying with the buttons there, “I never saw your kink list.”

“Would you like to?”

You nod.

“Another time then,” Seungcheol says smoothly, “tonight, I want to take care of you. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good,” you admit, tugging on his shirt in an effort to pull him closer.

With a smile, Seungcheol concedes, lips finding yours again. 

Instead of being as chaste as he had at the start, with each brush of your mouths against each other, he’s becoming more bold, gently testing your limits-

Little does he know that when it comes to him, you have no hard limits.

He could talk you into just about anything- but part of you knows he’d never really try to talk you into much, which is one of the reasons why you’re so open for him.

As he kisses you harder, and you tug him even closer, you realize you’re practically trying to climb him- and in one motion, Seungcheol bends down and lifts you into his arms bridal style, being mindful of the black dress still adorning your body.

“I’m going to take you to my bedroom now,” he tells you, and you take the opportunity to begin speckling his neck and underjaw in kisses, your hands tugging and toying with the fabric covering his broad shoulders. 

It’s so easy to become lost in him- his gentle, calming aura truly overtakes you, and now that you’re contractually under his protection - both financially and romantically - nothing else does matter- 

Nothing except him.

You want to make Seungcheol happy- and you note his reactions, note the way he releases a shuddery breath when you find a sensitive spot just under his ear- your tongue dipping out to taste his skin while you press kisses there-

“Okay, angel,” he sighs, “time to set you down.” 

He places you gently onto his bed before straightening to look at you. 

Seungcheol has always been tall and broad- but towering over you at the foot of his bed while you lay there with soaked panties takes him to new heights - literally - and you find yourself practically drooling- sitting up in an effort to get close to him again-

“Nuh uh uh,” he tuts, pressing one knee onto the mattress between your legs. “Lift your arms so I can take this dress off of you, and then lay back down for me, yeah?”

You follow through with his request gladly, allowing him to strip you of your dress before you flatten against his bed again, looking up at him with a lustful wonder that you’ve never truly experienced.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Seungcheol says smoothly, discarding your dress before looking down at you with appreciative eyes- eyes that finally take in some of your best features, gliding across your breasts and the lingerie set you’re wearing- “You dressed up for me,” he notes.

“Of course, daddy,” you sigh, reaching for him when he presses his other knee onto the bed, “wanted to look good for you.”

“You always look good,” he tells you, flattening his form over your own, one hand pressed to the mattress next to your head while the other gently grasps your jaw. “My pretty little angel,” he says, breath fanning across your skin before his lips find your own.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and looking for friction between your thighs-

A moan slips out of you when you feel his cock, pressing against the front of his pants deliciously-

Seungcheol chuckles into your kiss before pulling away from you, his lips moving to your neck- 

“So sensitive, baby,” he says, rutting forward ever so slightly- cock dragging past your panty-clad core and making you groan again. “When was the last time you were properly touched?”

“It’s been a while,” you admit, swallowing thickly and lacing your fingers through Seungcheol’s hair while he kisses down to the swell of your breasts, still captured in your bra. 

“Well, we’re going to change that.”

“We better,” you retort, back already arching off the bed to give him access to the clasp of your bra- which he undoes with deft fingers. “Take it off- please-”

The garment slips off of you easily, and Seungcheol tosses it to join your dress on the floor before his large, warm hand is cupping your breast, lips attaching to one nipple while his fingers toy with the other.

Small gasps of ecstasy escape you, filling the room with your whimpery sounds of need.

Your new lover focuses on your breasts in a way that begins to make you frustrated, your pussy clenching with untouched desire- and the feeling of Seungcheol’s muscled shoulders is almost too much for your hands, which can’t help but explore his body-

“Please-” you moan, shifting your hips up, eager for him to grind down on you again-

The hand on your breast is removed, and it slips between your bodies, two fingers pressing to your pussy through your panties. 

You release a whimper, body shuddering at the small stimulus on your clit-

“Your panties are soaked, angel,” he says, releasing your breast in favor of looking down at you again. “Do you really need me that much?” 

“I do,” you tell him sincerely, once more tugging at the front of his shirt. “I need you so bad-”

Your fingers begin to undo his buttons, but your motions are shaky, especially as he rubs your core harder, teasing you through your panties-

“Please- just take them off,” you groan. “Take it all off-”

Seungcheol grins, “If you insist,” and then he’s pulling away from you, leaving you cold and desperate, your hands trying to follow him-

But then you stop, zoning in on the way his own nimble fingers undo the buttons of his shirt-

And then he’s shrugging the fabric off, revealing a chiseled torso and an abdomen that you could wash clothes on-

“You’re so-” you groan, unable to even believe you’d found a man like this on a sugar dating site.

“I’m so…” he looks at you with a cocked brow, kneeling between your legs, his hands finding your thighs and smoothing down against your skin.

“You’re everything,” you tell him, unable to think through much else.

The complement works, and Seungcheol’s smile widens. “Thank you, angel,” he says. “Daddy’s going to eat you now.”

You’re so overwhelmed- in the best of ways- that you hardly even hear Seungkwan’s voice in the back of your mind screaming ‘hannibal the cannibal, bitch!’ 

Your best friend had been so wrong about Seungcheol- who gets down onto his knees at the foot of the bed, dragging you closer before hooking his fingers in your panties-

You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the fabric from your form, leaving you completely naked-

Seungcheol releases a breath that fans over your pussy, his lips pressing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.

“You’re so perfect,” he says, teeth grazing past your skin before he finally brings his mouth where you need him most.

You can’t help but reach down and tangle your fingers through his hair, determined to keep him between your thighs-

And he doesn’t disappoint, tongue licking you up and down, pressing through your pussy lips and dipping into your core, nose brushing by your clit-

“Cheol-” you whimper, toes curling at the sensation.

You’ve been eaten out before, but you’ve never been as into a man as you are with Seungcheol, and every brush of him against you has you practically whining and tingling with ecstasy.

You’d never thought sex could be this good- and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

His tongue is nothing compared to what his cock is going to feel like- but his mouth alone is bringing you shockingly close to your high, devastatingly fast. 

Seungcheol releases a groan against your pussy, pulling away just enough to ask “close already, angel?”

“Mmm- yes,” you whimper, tightening your grip in his hair on an effort to bring him back to your pussy.

“You can cum, just- let me know,” he tells you, tongue returning to your aching hole, lapping at you for all you’re worth-

You find your eyes closing, your head resting back against his bed while his ministrations work you closer and closer to the edge-

One of your feet drags along his strong back, your legs threatening to close around his head as your sounds of pleasure begin to tumble out of you uncensored, filling the room-

Seungcheol presses his face against you even harder, lips wrapping around your clit-

“Cheol- I’m gonna-” you whine, breaths becoming irregular as you get closer and closer to cloud nine- “oh my god-” you reach the peak of pleasure, and a gasped “daddy” escapes you as you’re consumed with your orgasm, quivering legs trying to close around Seungcheol-

But two hands land on your inner thighs, forcing you open for the man who eats you through your high like he’s been starved- 

Perhaps you both have.

You haven’t felt something this good in- maybe ever, and all you’re able to do is tug on his hair, moan loudly, and rut your hips against his face while you feel him tingling through every fiber of your being.

Seungcheol works you through your entire orgasm and then some, until your legs feel like jelly from being tensed, and you can hardly breathe correctly. Then, he pulls away from you slowly, pressing kisses along your inner thigh-

You open your eyes to look down at him, and you’re met with a visual that has you getting wet all over again. 

The gorgeous man between your legs, wipes his thumb across his lower lip, collecting what’s there and slipping it into his mouth, releasing a groan that has you practically twitching- 

His pupils are blown with interest, and he’s breathing just as heavily as you are.

He stands up, towering over you once more.

Seungcheol swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m guessing from the way you checked off cum play and breeding kink that you’re on some sort of contraceptive?”

You release a small laugh- no man has ever used the word contraceptive in the bedroom with you before. Cheol is so sexy with his fancy words-

“Hey,” he gently taps your inner thigh again, “are you alright?”

“Yes, I-” you take a breath, “sorry, I’m just-” you can’t help but reach for him, making something like grabby hands in the air.

“I’ll give you a second to come down a bit more,” he concedes, returning between your legs, holding himself just over your body while you attempt to latch onto him, ankles crossing behind his back to lock him in- “You really haven’t been properly touched in a while,” he notes, brushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear. 

“No,” you agree, “I haven’t.” 

You cup his face, eager for his lips to be on yours, but he holds just out of your reach, grinning down at you. “Almost ready to answer my question?”

You nod, taking a breath before telling him, “I’m on the pill.”

“Lucky us,” Seungcheol says, bypassing your lips in favour of pressing a kiss to your neck, just above your fluttering pulse point. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you admit, letting out a deep sigh- “needy.”

Seungcheol releases a small groan, and he pushes his hips forward, teasing your bare core with the front of his dress pants- “Yeah?” 

“Please-” you tug gently at his hair, “stop teasing me.”

“Just trying to let you take a breath,” he retorts.

“I don’t want to breathe,” you say stubbornly, “I want you.” 

He lets out a chuckle, and you find yourself wanting to prove how much you want him. 

There’s no way in hell that you’ll be able to dominate Seungcheol, he’s as sturdy as a bear laying on top of you, but when you push at his shoulders, he relents, allowing you to roll him onto his back so you’re now the one on top.

He blinks up at you, lips parting-

“Didn’t expect this, did you, daddy?” you ask, placing your palms flat on his chest while adjusting the way you’re seated, capturing his cock between your bodies-

Seungcheol sits up abruptly- and you almost think he’s going to say something, but instead, he presses his lips to yours, capturing the nape of your neck with his hand so you can’t move away. 

His kiss is hungry, tongue gliding past your own and earning a mewl of pleasure- your hips rock slightly, and you’re immediately aggrieved to be reminded that he still has pants on.

“Want you naked,” you tell him between kisses, “want to taste you-”

Now it’s his turn to let out a groan of eager delight, and he lets go of his hold on your neck, pulling away from your lips to look you in the eyes while he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging ever so slightly to have your head arching back- “You sure about that?”

“God, yes-” you moan, licking your lips-

“Then go ahead, angel,” Seungcheol says, releasing you. “Do whatever your heart desires, and if you get tired, let daddy know so he can take over again.”

You’ve never been wetter in your life. Nor have you ever shimmied down a man’s body and wrestled with his pants so quick, but with Seungcheol, that’s precisely what you do, and within no time at all, you have your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.

He’s girthy- and you can just imagine how good the stretch of him is going to feel- 

You’re practically drooling on him, bobbing your head up and down while he pushes your hair out of your face, releasing a groan and a “that’s it, angel” that eggs you on even more.

You’re aware that you don’t want to make him cum like this- this is just you returning the favour before riding him- 

God, you want to ride him so bad- like you’ve never wanted to ride any man in your whole entire life.

“Fuck-” 

It’s the first swearword you’ve ever heard come out of Seungcheol’s mouth, and it goes straight to your pussy, which clenches around nothing, your mouth slipping down far enough on his cock that you choke-

“Careful, darling,” the hand in your hair tugs you off his cock, and you take a gasp of air, sneaking a glance up at the man who has you going feral-

“I wanna ride you.”

“Like I said, do whatever your heart desires,” comes his almost casual response-

This man is going to be the death of you.

Death by psychologist cock.

Before you can even think a coherent sentence, you’re straddling Seungcheol’s hips, adjusting his cock to fit snuggly against your core, and sinking down on him, filling yourself inch by delicious inch until you’re sat atop him like a queen on her throne.

His hands find your waist, and you both release sounds of pleasure, your eyes closing to enjoy the feeling of being perfectly full for just a moment before you begin to move-

“Feels good, huh?” he prompts, squeezing your hips gently.

“Feels fucking fantastic,” you tell him- swear words be damned.

Your hands find his strong chest, and you lean over him, connecting your lips while you take a test thrust, bouncing just slightly on his cock-

The feeling is enough to have you both groaning into each other’s mouths, Seungcheol cupping the side of your face while he gently bites at your lower lip-

You’re not used to being on top- and it feels obvious in the shallow way you’re riding him, too distracted in kissing to give either motion your full attention-

But that doesn’t matter, because Seungcheol is rutting up to meet you, matching your slow pace and helping you find a steady rhythm with the hand still on your hip, guiding you as you begin to bounce.

It feels like heaven to be fucking Choi Seungcheol- feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. 

You find yourself getting lost in him, working on autopilot with one destination in mind: orgasmic pleasure, and with each thrust of his hips to meet you, he helps you get closer.

“Fuck, Cheol-” you groan, tearing your lips from his to take a breath, burying your face against his neck while your thighs burn from effort- “Daddy, please- please, fuck me-”

That’s all you need to say to get him to take over, flipping you onto your back so he can regain the top position. He captures your hands, raising them over your head where he can lock your wrists together in his strong grip, then his free digits slip between your bodies, seeking out your clit-

“Oh my god,” you moan, eyes closing as you’re overwhelmed in the sensation of him-

“Close already, sweetheart?” he questions, letting out a smug, sexy, little chuckle. “Feels that good?”

“Yes- feels so good,” you tell him, ready to say anything he wants you to if it means he fucks you harder-

His fingers draw small quick circles on your clit, and your legs twitch where they’re wrapped around his waist.

“I’ve hardly even fucked you- you can hold it a little longer, can’t you darling?” he prompts, nosing at your cheek. “For me?”

“I can-” you groan as he fucks you harder, “I can try- but- my clit-”

“Is this making it difficult for you?” Seungcheol smiles, relenting ever so slightly and then removing his hand all together in favour of wrapping it around your throat. “There, is that better?”

He squeezes your airway, and you’re simply unable to speak, unable to do anything but moan like a whore in heat while he fucks you closer and closer to an orgasm you’re desperately trying to hold off for him-

“You feel-” he lets out a groan, “unbelievable.”

No, he feels unbelievable, and you can’t even touch him with your hands still pinned- 

You think if you could graze your fingers across his strong shoulders you’d cum instantly, so maybe it’s a good thing he has your wrists in his grasp-

“I think I want you to cum now,” he decides, and you’re thankful- only for him to release your throat and rub your clit, which has you whining loudly all over again- “You’ll cum with me, right?”

“God, daddy- yes!” you whimper- the coil in your stomach clenching as tightly as ever-

Then he releases your wrists, anchoring a hand against your abdomen to keep you down while he works you over the edge- and your own fingers immediately seek out the shoulders that have you dizzy with lust, core clamping down on his cock as you’re high hits you full force.

“Cheol-” you whimper, delighted by the way he immediately presses his lips to yours, eagerly eating up your sounds of pleasure and returning them with grunts and groans of his own while fucking you through one of the best orgasms of your entire life.

His tongue dances by yours, teeth teasing past your lip-

Your fingers are in his hair and you can feel him practically everywhere, your entire body alight with wonderful sensations of bliss-

It starts to slow too soon, but every up must have a down, and as his hips lose pace and your sounds lessen, you realize you’re truly, madly, deeply in love with Choi Seungcheol.

And you’ve known him for less than a week.

8: Wednesday

“Are you settling in okay?” Bora’s voice pulls you away from your daydreaming, and you tear your eyes off of Seungcheol to focus on the woman whose house you’ve been enjoying for much of the evening.

She’d been introduced to you as Seungcheol’s colleague’s wife, and you’ve yet to get any one on one with the very pregnant hostess, whose husband, Mingyu, has been circling her like a puppy this entire time. 

“Yes,” you respond, finding your voice, “you have a very easy home to settle into.”

“I appreciate that,” she smiles, taking the free seat on the sofa next to you, one hand settling over her protruding stomach in a maternal way that makes your heart soften. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you since you arrived, but both of us seem to have a plus one that’s attached at the hip.”

Now it’s her turn to look over at Seungcheol and Mingyu, who are huddled around another psychologist friend of theirs, Wonwoo, and his wife, their attention fixed on the youngest member of the housewarming party, a six-month-old baby named Yumi.

“I feel as if I’m the plus one,” you say.

“Don’t be modest,” Bora brushes it off with a smile, “Cheol has had his hand on the small of your back for most of the evening. As much as they like to pretend they’re big shot psychologists, we’re the crutches that get them through the evening.”

You take a moment to consider her words. 

This is the first event you’ve gone to with your new beau, and for much of it, you’ve been as intent to stick to Cheol’s side as he has been to yours.

“Trust me,” Bora continues, “give it a few minutes and they’ll migrate over here to be close to us.” She pauses, then, “Mingyu has to get used to being in the living room, a pregnant woman like me needs a good, comfortable seat.”

You both laugh at the way she touches her belly again, pushing it out and relaxing back on the sofa. 

“How far along are you?” you ask. 

Despite already having had dinner and discussion for an hour or two, much of the focus has been on the home and various publications that the four university friends have been working on, with Wonwoo’s wife Minji having arrived with Yumi only a short while ago. 

“Eight months,” Bora sighs, continuing to stroke her baby bump. “I’m just about ready to pop. But enough about me and my belly, you’ve hardly spoken about yourself- and Cheol is always so focused on work, I’ve yet to get many details out of him, other than the fact that you’re worth skipping book club for. Did you two have a hot date last night?”

Your skin heats with embarrassment- “I didn’t know he’d skipped book club for me-”

“It’s a loose arrangement, Tuesdays at seven, I’m only teasing you,” Bora leans over to nudge you with her shoulder, offering you a sweet smile. “How did you two meet?”

The nondisclosure agreement pops into your mind like a red warning sign. 

“Erm…” you swallow, “Cheol hasn’t told you?”

“Like I said, he’s very tight-lipped about it,” Bora explains. “But- I’ve never known Seungcheol to be a fan of changing his schedule- and the pearl necklace you’re wearing- the dress, your lovely nails- they all seem like gifts to me. Am I right?”

Her husband might be a psychologist, but Bora has just as much of a critical eye. She sees right through you.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Bora waves your silence off, “I know I’m right. I’ll figure you two out.”

“Are you being nosy again, Mrs. Kim?” Vernon, the fourth and quietest man of your new lover’s friend group joins you in the living room, taking a seat on the single chair to your left.

“Always,” Bora responds with a smile. “Wait, Vernon, maybe you know more about this. Y/N is being no fun- Cheol must have told you where and when they met-”

Vernon’s mouth opens in something like recognition-

“Ah ha!” Bora exclaims, leaning closer to you, sandwiching you in while she presses for more information. “So you do know!” 

“I do, but-” Vernon looks at you, then he leans in too, his voice dipping to something near a whisper, “Are we allowed to talk about this?”

“Allowed?” Now Bora is even more hooked on finding the truth than before, and her gaze darts between you and the man on your left, who obviously knows at least a few details about you and Seungcheol’s ‘origin story.’

Due to the NDA, all you can do is sit there like a fish out of water, and you find yourself looking to Seungcheol, hoping he’ll see you in distress and come over to sort things out-

“Let’s just say-” Vernon sighs, giving in to the pregnant woman’s need for information, “Y/N, you seem like a great girl- as kind, calm, collected, and smart as Seungcheol told us you were- but, I am shocked he found you on a dating site.”

“A dating site?” Bora’s eyes have widened, and she shuffles closer to you on the couch, jaw dropped. “Stop- when I told him to try online dating after his last girlfriend I was honestly joking- everyone knows Tinder is hookup central these days.”

Bora is as inquisitive as anyone you’ve ever met, and she checks you and Vernon for your reactions, easily picking up on the shift of energy-

“Wait, not tinder?” She pauses, waiting for an answer. When it becomes obvious neither you nor Vernon are going to elaborate, she sighs and sits back a little. “Now that I think of it, tinder is an app, not a site- the only dating sites I can think of online are-”

It’s like a lightbulb goes off atop her head, and her jaw drops a little more- then she’s inching in close to you again, whispering as Vernon had done earlier, “You know what? Now that we’re discussing it- a sugar daddy site would be perfect for Cheol.”

Vernon groans, throwing his hand over his eyes and leaning forward. It’s clear he’d expected to be able to talk to you in something of vague code without Bora picking up on it- but it seems he’s underestimated the astute woman next to you. 

“You guys are horrible at keeping secrets,” Bora grins, sneaking a glance at Seungcheol, who’s now picked up baby Yumi- “This is so interesting.” 

“The plot thickens,” you offer, unable to say much more than that.

“Oh my god, stop,” Bora says playfully, poking your arm. “Obviously there’s some… agreement that’s been made between you and Cheol, so I’ll try not to prod you for much more information,” she promises, “but I’ll talk to Cheol and the next time we meet, you’ll be able to speak more freely.”

“The next time we meet?” you ask, wondering how the woman can be so sure of herself in every regard.

“We’ll meet again,” she tells you. “Trust me, anyone watching you and Seungcheol- well, anyone who knows him, can tell he really likes you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “You think?” 

Bora smiles at you. “Sweet girl, it’s obvious. Trust me, Seungcheol doesn’t bring around just anyone to parties with us, and like I said, he doesn’t often change his schedule for girls either. I don’t care what site you met on, you have that man whipped.”

“Bora-” the psychologist on your left groans.

“Vernon,” she retorts with the same tone. 

They exchange a glance, a battle for dominance, and Bora wins, Vernon releasing a sigh before leaning back in his chair.

“You know what is surprising?” he asks.

“Tell us,” Bora mirrors him, relaxing back against the couch.

“How good Cheol is being with Yumi tonight.” Vernon is watching his friends and the baby again, and soon all three of you are.

“That’s a good point, Vernon,” Bora grins, nudging you a little with her elbow. “I wonder why that is?”

You think her intuition has finally run dry. She can’t be insinuating that you’re partially the reason behind Seungcheol’s apparent baby fever- 

And if she is, she has another shock coming for her when she finally talks to Cheol and finds out that ‘no babies’ was one of the clauses of your dating agreement.

“I think, Cheol’s the kind of man who likes seeing people happy, and Yumi is very expressive” you offer. “People can like babies without wanting one for themselves.”

Bora lets out a scoff. “Right, Mingyu and I always thought we just ‘liked babies,’ and now look at me. Liking babies is always how it starts, and before you know it, nine months have gone by, you’ve turned into a balloon and are buying a new home big enough to raise a family in.”

You are envious of her position, but at the same time, you’re acutely aware that you and Cheol are extremely new to each other. He’s not the kind of man to be hasty- or at least, you’d thought he wasn’t, but as Bora had mentioned, Seungcheol doesn’t introduce just anyone to his friends. 

You’ll have to talk with him about this and you know it, but until then, it’s enough to just sit between his friends and watch him play with Yumi, who seems to give everyone in the vicinity a serious case of baby fever. 

9: Thursday

“Hold up-” Seungkwan says, interrupting you with a wave of his hands, and they land on your knees, “wait a minute- so he makes you sign an NDA, and then invites you out with his friends, and one of them like- bombards you for an hour about him-”

“It wasn’t an hour-”

“Sure-”

“And she wasn’t bombarding,” you correct.

“Ok, fine, yeah, whatever- but then-” Seungkwan takes a deep breath, “he also has a thing about no babies, and in the first week- straight up rubs a baby in your face for an entire night-”

“Yumi was only there for an hour or so before we left-”

“And then!” your best friend interrupts you again, “on the car ride home, instead of discussing it with him like adults- ya’ll put up the separation between you and his hot as fuck driver, and nearly fucked in the back seat-”

“Oh my god, stop-” you groan, “I told you, it was just kissing-”

“With you straddling the man!” Seunkwan yells back. “And all of this, after he switched his schedule to fuck you on Tuesday night- even though you said it would go slow-”

“Actually, he told me he wouldn’t fuck me till the third date, and if we didn’t meet Tuesday, the night with his friends on Wednesday would have been the third date, so-” 

“I swear to fucking god, I have whiplash,” Seungkwan tells you, looking as serious as ever. “Ya’ll make me sick! Sick I say! What in the ever-loving fanfic is this bullshit-”

“Have you been writing more Hannibal and Will love stories again?”

“Maybe.” 

“Are you going to write a fanfic about Will and Hannibal based on me and Cheol?”

“Maybe…” 

“Seungkwan!” 

“Well don’t tell me juicy stories if you don’t want them getting thrown in a sex fantasy! Ya’ll nearly fucked in the back of a car with a hot chauffeur-” 

“I told you-” you begin to defend yourself again, only to be cut off by your phone buzzing.

Both you and Seungkwan look to your cell, placed a foot or two away on the coffee table.

“Daddy,” you both say in unison, and then you’re lurching for your phone.

“Seungkwan stop!” you screech, grabbing onto his sweater when he latches onto the device first.

“Put him on speaker!” Seungkwan declares, holding your cell just out of your reach while it rings.

“Yeah- I’ll put him on speaker-” you fold easily, “just give me the phone!”

Instead of handing it to you right away, your best friend answers the call and hits speaker, then thrusts it towards your face.

“Hi, daddy!” you blurt out, flustered from the small dust up you’d just had with your friend over the entire situation.

There’s a chuckle on the other end of the line, then “Hi, sweetheart. It sounds like I’ve interrupted something.”

“Just-” you grab the cell back from Seungkwan, “just had trouble finding my phone is all, was worried you’d be sent to voicemail.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t. It’s good to hear your voice.”

Your heart swoons, and Seungkwan grabs a pillow to scream into. “Good to hear yours too.”

“I’m just calling to see if we’re still on for tomorrow.”

“Right, yeah- do you still want to see me? I know you were very specific when we met about meeting up once or twice a week, and I’ve already seen you twice in the past three days-”

“Once or twice a week, plus the occasional group event,” Seungcheol clarifies for you. “I’d really enjoy having you over tomorrow, if you haven’t already made plans. I won’t hold it against you if you have, I can see how there might have been a small miscommunication- especially after my… erratic behavour this week, fitting you in on Tuesday- scheduling will almost always be smoother than it has been these last few days.”

“I’d love to see you tomorrow- I haven’t made any other plans.”

“Good.” You can hear him smiling. “Since it’s a Friday, and I don’t have any specific work engagements on weekends, how do you feel about bringing an overnight bag?”

Seungkwan drops his pillow.

“I would love that, too-” you say.

“Perfect. Should we say pick up at seven?”

“Sounds great.” 

God, he makes everything so easy-

“Can’t wait to see you again, angel. Have a good evening, you deserve it.”

You deserved to get dicked down.

“Have a good night too, Cheol.” 

10: Friday

When you exit your building, you’re shocked to find a different car - and an entirely different driver - waiting to take you to  Seungcheol’s home.

The man himself is standing aside a sleek, black, two-seater sports car, dressed in his usual suit aesthetic that shows off the broadness of his shoulders- 

You go feral nearly immediately, and it takes everything in you to stop from practically drooling as you close the distance between you and the man who pulls you into a hug that takes you off your feet for a greeting.

“Hey there, angel,” his breath tickles your hair and he sets you back down. He takes your hands gently, holding them out to the sides so he can get a good look at your outfit, a red dress you’d chosen, knowing it’s his favourite colour. “You look gorgeous.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you grin, playing with his fingers.

One quick motion has him spinning you like a dancer, and you find yourself giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Ready to go?” he asks when you’ve come to a stop in front of him again.

“Uh huh,” you nod, giving your head a little shake to pull yourself from a lust-fueled daze, “sorry, I was just- I wasn’t expecting you to be the one picking me up.”

“I gave Seokmin the night off,” Seungcheol tells you, opening the car’s passenger side door and holding out a hand to help you in. “Hope that’s okay,” he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek before taking your overnight bag and closing you into the vehicle.

He puts your bag in the back trunk, then slips into the driver’s seat.

Seungcheol’s hand finds your thigh, and he squeezes gently, offering you a small smile. “I know we’re planning on having you stay the night, but if you decide you don’t want to sleep over, I can always drive you home later.”

“Cheol,” you rest your hand on top of his, “I think we both know I’m not going to take you up on that offer.”

“Sure, but I figured I’d put it on the table regardless.” 

You smile, leaning in to steal a kiss to his cheek, as he had when he helped you into your seat. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“You deserve it,” he insists, giving your thigh another squeeze before reaching for the ignition. 

The car revs to life. 

It’s hard not to stare at Seungcheol while he drives, and luckily, his hand returns to your thigh, giving you something to focus on. You take to playing with his fingers, marveling at how handsome every inch of him is.

“Vernon called me yesterday,” Seungcheol says, dragging your attention from his hands.

“Oh?”

“He admitted to slipping up and giving Bora ideas.” Seungcheol lets out a small chuckle, “said you looked like a deer in headlights when he arrived to the conversation- she was pressing you for details, huh?”

“Not in a bad way,” you tell him, wanting to defend the woman who you’re already coming to think of as a friend. “She was just- curious.”

“It’s my fault for not being specific with you about the NDA, or with Vernon for that matter- the NDA is primarily for when we go to work events outside of our inner circle, which is why your best friend is mentioned on the form you signed- it seems both Vernon and Mingyu were under the idea that I wanted to be highly secretive about us- but I’ve explained to them the nuances of it all. The next time you see Bora, please, feel free to discuss it with her, or Vernon, or Mingyu, Wonwoo, Minji- as long as you’re not too specific with Yumi, you can consider the baby a confidant as well.”

He’s obviously joking about the baby, but the mention of the child brings those same warm fuzzy conflicted feelings that you’d experienced last night at the get-together. 

There will be a time to talk with Seungcheol about his seemingly dualistic baby fever and baby aversion- but tonight is not the night for it.

You’re thankful he’d even brought up the topic of Bora and the NDA, and already, what little anxiety you’d felt about this whole thing has been substantially dwindled.

“I really liked your friends,” you admit, thinking back to how pleasant the evening had been. Despite Bora’s teasing and prying, she’d been nothing but a courteous host when Seungcheol and Mingyu had predictably rejoined you in the living room.

“They liked you too, angel. I knew they would.” He lets go of your thigh in favor of gently taking your hand. 

You can already feel your panties beginning to get wet- 

No man’s hands have ever had this effect on you before- and maybe it has to do, in part, with the whole ‘quirofilia’ thing-

Or maybe, Cheol is simply a man made by the hands of god himself- after all, how could he be this perfect without something like divine intervention?

Before you know it, you’re at Seungcheol’s house, and he’s pulling into the underground garage, where he parks next to the rolls-royce you’re accustomed to being driven in. 

Ever the gentleman, Seungcheol makes sure to come around and open your door for you, your duffle swung over his arm. He refuses to give it back to you, insisting on carrying it up to his home, where the two of you head to his bedroom instinctually.

He sets the bag down, turning to look at you, opening his mouth to say something-

But your patience has already run thin, and you all but launch yourself at the broad man, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his while his hands find your waist.

He laughs into the kiss, and you think he must not have been expecting you to jump him like this. 

Doesn’t he know the effect he has on you?

“Cheol-” you groan, moving your lips to his neck-

“Eager, angel?” Seungcheol reaches down to cup your bum, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. “It was hard being close but not able to properly touch you at the gettogether-” he says, taking a few steps back and collapsing down onto his bed, steadying you on top of him, “Could hardly even get work done today-”

“Was I that distracting for you, daddy?” you coo, teeth teasing past his earlobe.

He releases a groan, hands digging into your hips, forcing you down on his cock, which presses up against his dress pants, caught between your bodies. “Always.” 

“How can I fix it?” you wonder out loud, hands already going for the buttons of his shirt. “I wanna make you feel good.”

“You do, angel,” Seungcheol tells you, “make daddy feel so good.” 

“Wanna make you feel even better-” Then an idea comes to your head, “How about… a massage?” you suggest, thinking back to a paragraph you’d read from his book yesterday. “Aren’t you the one who claims relaxation time, such as stretching, massages, and the like, can be just as beneficial to the mind and body as activity itself?”

“Look at you, quoting my own work at me,” he releases a deep groan. “Are you sure that’s what you want to get up to tonight?”

“Just to start,” you tell him. “We have the whole evening- and tomorrow morning- why not start the night off with something like a massage? And work our way into…” you swivel your hips, “harder things.” 

“I like the sound of that, angel,” he confesses with another sigh of pleasure as you kiss the sweet spot just under his ear. “But you’ve got to let me get up so I can grab massage oil.”

You’d forgotten about that part, and the idea of letting Seungcheol leave you - even for a moment - brings out a bratty side of you that you’ve never truly experienced. 

It takes all your willpower to concede, getting off of the man who sits up and runs a hand through his hair. “You okay?” he questions, seeing the shift in your energy.

“Yeah,” you nod, “just hurry.”

He laughs, reaching out to gently pinch your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The kiss he places on your lips is as chaste as your first had been, and it leaves you tingling with potential, even as he stands and heads to the ensuite bathroom.

In his absence, you begin to take off your clothes, removing everything down to your bra and panties, and then, just for good measure, you settle onto your knees on the foot of his bed, trying to be as patient as possible.

You’re rewarded when Seungcheol appears in the doorway again, having stripped himself of his shirt. There’s a bottle of baby oil trapped between his teeth, and his hands are working on his belt and pants- 

When he sees you sitting on the foot of his bed, like the best girl there ever was, he lets the baby bottle drop from his mouth, catching it easily in one hand- “look at you,” he breathes, scanning your form. 

“Like what you see, daddy?” you tease, skin heating from the attention he gives you.

“Love it,” he tells you. “How good are your reflexes, darling?”

You open your mouth to respond, only to have him toss the bottle of oil at you. 

Unlike him, you don’t catch it gracefully, the bottle almost slipping out of your hands- there’s a small fumble but your digits wrap around it-

Seungcheol laughs at you. “With butter fingers like that- should I be getting us a towel to put down?” 

You hate that it’s a legitimate question.

And you doubly hate that the answer is a resounding yes, which you verbalize to him, annoyed that he’ll be leaving again-

But then you’re graced with a full view of his beautiful back when he turns to head into the bathroom again, and you decide to be a good, patient girl for just a few more moments.

Seungcheol returns, and you bite your tongue while you watch him set the towel down, but as soon as it’s settled, you find yourself saying - in something like a command - “on your stomach first,” you’re quick to adjust to your tone, “I wanna work your back out a little to start.”

“How could I say no to that?” Seungcheol grins, following through and laying flat on the towel.

You nearly drool while watching him adjust his arms, propping his head up with both hands under his chin. His biceps are bulging and your mouth is definitely beginning to water again, prompting you to lick your lips-

“Have you given many massages before?” he asks, as you straddle his hips, continuing to marvel at the shape of his perfect form-

“Erm- define many?” 

He chuckles, and you flip the cap of the baby oil, allowing the liquid to pour into your palm. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“It can’t be that hard,” you tell him, bringing your hands to the muscled back that has you wet like the ocean every time you see it.

“Tell that to my chiropractor,” he says, a joke that makes you both laugh.

You begin to work away at his muscles, both hands smoothing up and down his back, focusing in on the shoulders you love so much-

“Feels good,” Seungcheol groans, releasing a deep sigh of relief that has your ego shooting through the roof. 

“That’s good daddy,” you tell him, leaning over him and applying more of your body weight as pressure for your hands. “You deserve to relax.”

He chuckles slightly, and you realize you’re picking up on some of his diction. Hasn’t he been the one telling you what you deserve thus far? 

All it takes is you being on top and you begin to emulate his mannerisms, the soft dom tendency towards praise. 

You can tell he’s enjoying it, and you are too, your panties getting wetter with every second your hands are on his broad shoulders-

 “Can you flip now?” you prompt, knowing it hasn’t been that long that you’ve been working on his back- but you miss his face, and you’re eager to get your hands on his chest-

With a grunt of affirmation, Seungcheol begins to turn, and you lift yourself off of him enough to allow the movement. Once he’s on his back, you settle down again, capturing his cock between your bodies as it strains against his pants.

“You like this position, huh?” he asks, smiling up at you with an expression that exudes adoration. 

His hands find your thighs, rubbing up and down while you get more oil on your palms. “Not always,” you tell him, beginning to massage his chest, “top can be fun to start, in some cases, but- I really liked being under you the last time we were in your bed.”

“Oh yeah?” 

You avoid his gaze, knowing your skin is heating from what you’d just admitted. “Uh huh.”

“You’re cute,” he breathes, rubbing circles on your thighs, “getting all shy while sitting on top of me like this.”

“I’m trying to focus,” you tell him, trailing your fingers down to his abdomen. 

“You look a little dazed, darling,” he presses, “are you sure you don’t want me to take over?”

“I’ve hardly massaged you yet-” you go to argue, but Seungcheol is already making the move to sit up.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and tilts your head back the way he had last time- his breath is hot against your throat, and he trails his nose up under your jaw, bringing his lips to your ear. “What if I don’t care about the massage anymore?”

“Then-” you swallow thickly, pussy throbbing when his free hand unclasps your bra behind you, “then, okay.”

“Okay?” he chuckles. “My love, I don’t think ‘then, okay’ is a sentence.”

“Fuck me?”

“Not too sure that’s a sentence either, but, your wish is my command.”

It seems like the easiest thing in the world for him to discard your bra and flip you onto your back, lips finding your own, tearing your breath away.

Your legs tighten around his waist, and his oiled chest slides against yours, your newly freed nipples pebbling at the direct contact-

One of his hands, slides between your bodies, skimming over your breast and cupping it, squeezing. You release a moan of pleasure, hips bucking, pushing up towards him-

Your own hands slide over his slippery shoulders, and you mentally kick yourself for having lubed him up- there’s hardly anything to grasp onto, so you latch onto his hair instead, kissing him harder.

He releases your breast, hand slipping down and under the waistband of your panties. When his fingers find your core, they tease past your clit, and you can feel the silkiness of the baby oil on his digits, which glide into your wet hole as easily as ever. 

“Cheol-” you moan desperately, wanting to push your hips up- to get closer, but he holds you down with his large body, lips moving to your neck.

You realize, as his expert fingers crook up and find your gspot, that the last time you’d fucked, he’d never fingered you. You’d gotten to experience his tongue and his cock, but the middle and ring fingers that explore your pussy have something like trained exactitude, hitting the spot that has your toes curling with deadly precision. 

“Oh my god-” you whimper, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, looking for an anchor while he begins to thrust his digits into you with enough force that your hips begin to rock-

The palm of his hand applies pressure to your clit, rubbing you through the rough manhandling that has you achingly close to an orgasm within no time-

“Gonna cum?” he prompts in your ear, hot breath making your skin tingle.

“Yes, daddy-” it’s the most you can do to hold onto him and clench your eyes shut, an intense feeling of euphoric pressure erupting between your legs-

“That’s it gorgeous, let it all out-” he groans, fingers unrelenting-

You can hear your pussy, squelching sinfully around his fingers- and you can feel wetness gushing between your thighs-

In the back of your mind, you realize you’re squirting, cumming completely undone on his hand, but you’re too lost in the feeling of it to care.

He finger fucks you to the point of overwhelm, until your whines and whimpers are hoarse and tears well in the corners of your shut eyes-

And then he’s pulling his hand out of your panties, and the soaked material is left to cling back to your sopping hole.

Your arms go slack, landing on the bed next to you, and Seungcheol pulls away from your body, making you moan desperately, eyes opening to watch him-

“I’m not going anywhere, angel,” he promises, pushing his own pants down before kicking them to the side, then he goes to tear your panties off, and you see, for the first time, how truly ruined they are. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone squirt this much,” he tells you, discarding the fabric so he can rejoin you on the bed, the both of you fully nude. “Did that feel good?”

“So good-” you whimper, hardly able to form sentences in your delirious, sex induced brain fog-

Seungcheol slots himself between your thighs again, cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing away the tear that’s escaped your eye. “Do you need a moment?”

“No!” you’re quick to protest, locking your legs around his hips. “Fuck me- daddy- please-”

You don’t think any cock has ever entered you as smoothly as his does, aided by the copious amount of wet arousal still dribbling out of your hole.

Seungcheol tucks his face against the crook of your neck, supporting himself above you with two hands buried into the pillow on either side of your head. His lips are feverish against your throat, and the groans he releases as he begins to fuck you make you as horny as ever.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, rutting into you with a pace and power that increases with every slap of skin on skin- “so perfect for me-”

“Daddy-” you whine, clawing at his back while he ravages your insides.

“So responsive-” his teeth graze past your neck and you shiver, whole body tingling with delight.

“Harder-” you moan.

“Harder?” he releases something like a laugh, and then you hear him swallow, adjusting his position so he can dig his elbows into the bed, hooking his forearms under your own shoulders, which props you up ever so slightly- enough to change the angle and allow him to follow through with your request.

You release a squeak at the feeling of being completely at his mercy, completely wrapped in Cheol while he’s wrapped in you- the perfect combination really.

The sounds escaping you aren’t something you can hold back, and each rough thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, a spot that has you becoming a mewling, moaning, whimpering mess for him.

“Just like that-” you tell him desperately, grabbing at his hair, eager to hold onto something while you get fucked into oblivion-

“You close, gorgeous?” he asks, and all you can do is moan, which makes him chuckle, “yeah you are,” he breathes. “Squeezing daddy so fucking tight- you were made for this, weren’t you, angel?”

“Yes-” 

“Made to be fucked-” he growls, rutting into you even harder-

You’re not sure where sweet, soft dom Seungcheol has gone, but you’re more than happy to be decimated by the man fucking into you like an animal, and his sinful praisings go straight to your pussy, which clenches around him even more.

“That’s it angel, that’s it-” he groans, “just a little more-” one of his hands moves to grab your thigh, hiking it higher on his waist-

He hits a spot that has you seeing stars, and you gasp loudly, crying out-

“Cum for me,” he instructs, and before your mind has even registered his words, your pussy is following through with the command, clamping down onto him while the biggest orgasm of your life slams into you like a freight train. 

Seungcheol lets out delicious sounds of pleasure, gasping against your throat, fucking you through your orgasm while coating your insides with his own release-

You’re completely surrounded by him.

There’s nothing else, only you and Cheol… and perhaps the ruined towel below you, dragging against your back with each rough thrust.

His motions begin to slow, and he comes to a stop, collapsing some of his body weight down against you while you both struggle to catch your breath. 

Neither of you say anything, too lost in the aftershocks of pleasure.

But with Cheol, you don’t need to say anything. You’re completely safe with him, completely content to rest in his arms, knowing there’s not a single place in the world you’d rather be.

11: Saturday

Waking up in Seungcheol’s bed, you immediately stretch in search of him- only to find the bed empty.

Sitting up, and wrapping the quilt around your nude body, you look around, blinking away residual grogginess. 

The man who’d fucked you silly until the late hours of the morning is nowhere to be seen, and you can’t help the way annoyance floods through you. But you remind yourself that Seungcheol likes his schedules, and a quick check of the clock next to the bed shows you that it’s eleven am, so you suppose you can’t be mad at Cheol for not staying with you while you slept half the day away.

Getting out of bed, you’re surprised to find just how sore your body is. 

Your thighs burn- and you suppose a round number five riding session may have not been the best idea last night.

You find the simple black sleeping shirt Seungcheol had given you before deciding to tear it off of you for round six, and you enjoy the way it dwarfs you. 

Sometimes you still can’t believe how big and broad Cheol is- 

Finding your overnight bag, you take out a fresh pair of panties, and decide to head off in search of Seungcheol in the simple shirt and underwear look. It’s doubtful you’ll be wearing it for much longer regardless.

It’s not hard to find your psychologist lover, after all, you simply have to follow the smell of food to the kitchen. 

Your sugar daddy is standing at the stove, one hand holding a spatula while he cooks eggs, the other propping up a book that he’s quietly reading.

He’s so sexy and smart- and sexy… and smart.

You can’t help but tiptoe towards him, latching onto his back and pressing your cheek against the space between his shoulder blades, releasing a groan of pleasure to finally be connected to him again.

“Morning, angel,” Seungcheol greets you, setting his book down before adjusting you, tugging you so you’re in front of him and he can meet your eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than ever,” you beam at him, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “And you?”

“Never better,” he returns your smile, and your heart practically melts. “Hungry?”

“Definitely- are you my master chef today?”

He laughs. “I’m not sure I’m that good, cooking is a hobby I’ve only truly picked up in recent years.”

“Right,” you say, turning in his arms to look down at the pan in front of you. “Very hard ingredient, eggs.”

Seungcheol releases a cross between a chuckle and a sigh behind you, poking at your ribcage. “I can make more than eggs. I just figured, I don’t really know what you like when it comes to food, so I’d make something safe and healthy. Besides, I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.”

“So this is just for you, is that what you’re saying?” you tease him some more, enjoying the domesticity of this- it’s as if you’ve done this a hundred times before, or at least, you have the peace that comes with familiarity.

“If I had known you were such a brat-” he begins, but you cut him off with a squeal and turn to face him again, insisting “I’m not a brat!”

He simply looks at you with a smile.

“You’re being mean to me,” you pout, cupping the back of his neck and getting closer to him. 

Seungcheol scoffs, shaking his head slightly. He’s quick to change the subject. “Eggs are done, are you going to come sit with me at the table?”

With a sigh, you release the psychologist, allowing him to move the eggs to a plate- and when you turn to head to the table, you see a tray of fresh fruit and other breakfast items.

“There’s orange juice in the fridge, water, or I can make you some coffee,” Seungcheol says, following you to the table where you both take your seats. 

“I’m okay for now,” you tell him, grabbing a particularly tasty-looking piece of fruit to gnaw on. “Thanks, daddy.”

Seungcheol smiles, looking down at the healthy fruit options. “You know,” he says, moving a few pieces of cantaloupe and honeydew to his plate, “I’ve been wondering about you and your daddy kink.”

“Hmm?” 

“Just that- we’ve never discussed it, not explicitly- I guess, being a sugar daddy, the term is in the name, but… you took to it very easily,” he explains.

“Are you suggesting I have inherent daddy issues?”

“Not suggesting, merely… wondering.”

“How about this,” you set your fruit down, “I’ll talk about my daddy issues when you tell me why you think you’d be a bad father.”

Seungcheol looks at you quizzically. 

“I know you say it’s about your work and not having enough time, but- you’re settled in your career and reputation. You have this big house, a chauffeur, a group of smart psychologist friends who are popping out babies right now- and I saw the way you were with baby Yumi. looking at all of that- the only reason I can think of for why you’d be… adverse to babies, is that you have some personal reasons to think you’d be bad at it.” 

The man across from you stays quiet, leaning back in his chair, but a smile works its way across his face. Then, he sighs, “touche.” 

“So I guess neither of us will be talking about our daddy issues at the breakfast table,” you conclude, picking at your fruit again.

“How did I ever find a girl like you on a dating site?” Seungcheol says. “So pretty, and smart-”

“How did I ever find you on a dating site?” you retort, “so sexy, and smart-”

“Maybe finding each other was destiny.”

“Do you believe in that sort of thing?” you ask, cocking your head to the side. “Many men of science that I’ve heard of tend to lean towards atheism.”

“Maybe I used to, but then- let’s just say, I found an angel, and my world’s been flipped upside down ever since.” 

Your heart leaps in your chest, and you avert your gaze, looking down at your fruit. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“As I’ve told you before, angel,” Seungcheol reaches his hand across the table, placing it over your own, “you deserve it.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! this fic was never supposed to be this long- i don't know what came over me- it was very self-indulgent :) hope you liked it!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. You can’t believe how easy it is for Seungcheol to get you quaking for him- but you suppose, in some sense, you’re always quaking for your sugar daddy, who’d turned the entire trajectory of your life around the moment you’d met.

cw/ tw. oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, daddy/breeding kink, bickering like an old married couple, praise, semi-bondage, size kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 370

🌙 staring. seungcheol x afab!Reader  

bonus teaser

“Are you checking your book sales again?” you groan, leaning over the back of the sunlounger chair to look over Seungcheol’s shoulders, your hands smoothing down his bare chest-

“No,” your psychologist lover says, closing his laptop and setting it on the side table next to him. 

“Liar,” you grin, moving around the front of his chair so he can see you and the red bikini adorning your body- one of many sets you’ve accumulated over the two and a half years you’ve been dating Seungcheol. 

You have no actual intent of going into the private pool behind you.

Seungcheol’s eyes eat you up, and the smile of appreciation that works its way onto his lips is as bright and full of affection as it’s always been. “Look at you, angel. I’ll never get tired of seeing you in red.”

“Ass kisser,” you tease, watching him stand up from the poolside chair. “I thought we agreed no work on our honeymoon.”

“It’s true that I promised that- but… checking sales on my new book isn’t work, it’s… checking sales on my new book, and besides, you were asleep,” your husband grins, hands finding your waist and tugging you to his chest. “What if you pretend you never saw me on my laptop.”

You roll your eyes. He’s gotten cheekier the longer you’ve been together, and this playful side of your relationship isn’t something you’d trade for the entire world. 

“You always get up to naughty things while I’m sleeping,” you tease, playing the part of an upset wife.

“Come on,” Seungcheol prompts, leaning down to kiss you, “say you love me.”

“I’ll say I love you when you fulfill your other promise.”

“You know, we’re what, three days into this vacation?” Seungcheol pulls you closer. “Who’s to say I haven’t already pumped a baby into you?”

“Me,” you grin, hooking your fingers in his swim trunks. “I don’t feel full at all right now, in any way, shape, or form.”

“Well then, let’s see what I can do about filling you up sufficiently,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you one last time before throwing you over his shoulder and taking you back into your private vacation villa..

God, you fucking love this man.

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[earthtooz]

x : QUIET LOVE :*+ﾟ

in which: neuvillette doesn't understand human emotion, but a quiet night after a bustling gala with you might help him.

warnings: fluff, gn!reader, pining neuvi but he doesn't know it, quiet walks along the beach at night, gentlemanly flirting bc it's neuvillette, hand kisses lol

a/n: sacrificial fic because neuvillette is not coming home, so i poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this, even if it's not all that. ALSO, this was inspired by a wip on @gum-iie's page (hi gumiie >_<), so i hope you all enjoy !! i tried my hand at the vision i saw.

Gatherings in Fontaine are nothing short of magnificent. The nation of justice will never shy away from a party that reeks of grandeur and extraordinaire, with crystal chandeliers dripping from the ceiling, flowing gowns, and slicked-back hair. With an archon as dramatic as Furina herself, what else can the citizens of Fontaine expect?

Except for a long life such as Neuvillette himself, he has seen this scene one too many times. Gazing out amongst the sea of people, there is an ocean of unfamiliar faces, a sight that doesn’t bring him much peace. It’s not that Neuvillette does not enjoy interacting with humans- even if he’s not so good at doing so, but being amongst so many at once is the unpleasant part.

Despite his distaste for these kinds of bustling environments, he still thinks it’s good manners to attend, even if he will leave after an hour or two. 

Yet, it has been half an hour past the two hour mark, and yet the Iudex still has not seen himself out because there is a particular someone that he is hoping to catch the eye of. Someone who is worth all this extra trouble and socialisation. 

The melusines frequently run back to Neuvillette, concern and curiosity animated in their expressions as they ask their beloved father figure why he is still present. Their questions get brushed off by the Chief of Justice, who merely thanks them for checking up on him before telling them that there is no need to be worried, he is merely waiting for something. Or rather, someone. 

Only at the third hour since the party’s commencement, does he get what he wants: your attention. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette!” A voice cuts through the crowd and straight to him, causing him to turn around, eyes dancing wildly around the room to search for the source. He effortlessly finds your gaze and watches as you come closer to him, outfit flowing behind you and he decides that the crystals of the chandelier are no match against the ones that dance in your eyes. You are more radiant than the purest diamond and Neuvillette can’t find it in himself to glance away. 

You are perhaps the most ethereal being he has ever seen in his long life. 

What Furina promised him has arrived. Neuvillette can enjoy the night happily now.

“Y/n,” he greets, curt and polite, but the smile on his face speaks volumes. It tells a tune of subtle delight and enthusiasm mulled over for the sake of appearances and composition, and it is a melody that you are deaf to. In fact, the melusines are perhaps some of the only souls who can read his silent song of adoration but instead of meddling, they have resigned themselves to the corner of the hall, watching their beloved Chief Justice.  

“I did not expect to see you tonight,” you murmur, placing your empty glass of wine onto the plate of a passing waiter. “What a pleasant surprise.”

He wants to say something charming, perhaps something like telling you how lovely you look tonight or how absolutely magnetic you are, but the words fall short and Neuvillette panics briefly, scrambling to continue the conversation. “It is important to keep up social relations, after all. Not attending would be problematic.”

“An utmost scandal for the Iudex, no less.” There is a teasing glimmer in your eye, one that most people keep away from him but you are an exception; you always have been with how you regard him. Many respect him but also fear him, he is revered but avoided by the public, people speak of him but never would do so causally to his face. It is a particular dance that Neuvillette has become accustomed to, and you have slotted yourself in a position that none usually take: right beside him. 

He doesn’t completely understand human emotions just yet, but you evoke one that he cannot describe. 

“How has your night been?” Neuvillette asks.

“Tiring, fleeting, boring,” you murmur, expression melting into something more fatigued. “I want to leave, monsieur, is that too frank of a confession?”

“No, not at all,” he sees an opportunity and scrambles to get the words out, “may I accompany you or will I be overstepping?” 

You blink at him before a small, cheery smile pulls on your lips. “I would love your company, but I only ask that we leave at this very moment because it is getting far too stuffy in here.”

“Then time is of the essence.” Neuvillette extends his arm for you to take and he relishes in the feeling of when you do. 

Leaving the venue and helping you down numerous flights of stairs, the lighting and allure outside is far more romantic than it is inside. The street lamps of Fontaine were made for functionality so that no citizen could walk around unassuming and unaware of the darkness, and never were they made with the intent of illuminating anyone’s beauty. Yet here you stand before him, radiant under the warm tones of the lamp with the evening breeze flowing through your hair. 

Moreover it is quiet out here. There is no one to bother the two of you, no melusines, no meddling Archon who lives for drama, no loud music and chatter, just you and him, together. It is a contrast so stark that he fears reality will shatter any second. 

Naïve to his internal turmoils, you tug at his arm gently. “Let us go for a walk along the river,” you propose. A muted feeling of enthusiasm flows through Neuvillette and he readily agrees to your suggestion, more than happy to indulge in the gentle kisses of the sea breeze on his face.

The stroll is peaceful and quiet, neither of you speak too much but it is not awkward in the slightest. Your gowns trail behind the two of you with each step, dancing in sync with the wind as your slow pace allows the two of you to bathe in the light of the moon. 

Although Neuvillette does not want the night to end nor to let you go, the amount of yawns you’ve suppressed since leaving is alerting him of your fatigue, and he’ll feel bad if he keeps you from your sleep any longer. 

Finally, with one long yawn that you were not able to shut away, he stops you in your tracks. “Tired?” The Iudex asks.

You look up at him with eyes forced open, wider than they usually would be. “Just a little, but the night has been lovely so far, I’d hate for it to end.”

“Please, if you need the rest then you should rest.”

“Thank you for your concern, however-”

“There will be no objections. Let me walk you home.”

The moonlight casts a shade of melancholy over your features and the last glance you give to the ocean is nothing but full of longing. You surrender reluctantly. “Alright.”

You two make it back to the last aquabus just in time, and you’re the only passengers onboard. There is occasional chatter with the conductor, as well as private conversations, but Neuvillette has no qualms just spending the ride in silence, admiring you whilst you gaze out at the beautiful landscape of Fontaine. 

“There are so many stars out tonight.”

He glances away from you. “So there are.” Then he makes a brave leap. “There is one right beside me, too.”

“Me?” Your voice is strained with disbelief and your hold on his arms tightens just a little. There is momentary silence before laughter- a quiet sort of laugh, shy and not at all mocking or condescending. “Thank you,” you whisper, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m very flattered you think so highly of me.” 

It becomes quiet again after that but your hand never leaves his. If anything, Neuvillette feels you even more now, your warmth pressed up against his side is addicting, he cannot help but want more of it; he cannot help but want more of you. He wants more nights like this with you, days even- just as long as he can spend some more time with you, he’ll be grateful.

Humans and the complexity of the emotions they feel are something Neuvillette still can’t get a grasp of, but you fill him with something so inherently humane. Sitting beside you on an aquabus that is minutes away from its end is a bittersweet reminder of how little time there is until the evening ends, and this mesmerising evening becomes nothing but a memory. How irrational it is to yearn for something so temporary, but that is what makes it beautiful.

The walk back to your neighbourhood is quick, too quick for Neuvillette’s liking, but the smile you give him when you stop before your door is heartwarming. “Thank you dearly for walking me home, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you begin. “You have been the best part about this lively evening.” 

The Chief Justice has never had a way with words, rather, they have always been his enemy, so instead of speaking to convey what he feels, Neuvillette takes your hand instead and places a kiss on your knuckles. A gentlemanly act to many, but he holds and kisses you with such firm intention that it makes you dizzy. It makes you think deeper about whether or not there are underlying intentions to address, and it’s exhilarating questioning what exactly you are to the Chief Justice of Fontaine. 

For now, you’ll find contentment in the moonlight dream that was this evening, and he’ll engrave the feeling of you so close to him into his memory. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[madelynraemunson]

— along for the ride ☆

🐃 the tag team (co-writers): @joshlmbrt @swiss-mrs @mediocredreams 🩶

eddie x fem!reader

a/n: reading flight of icarus and finding out eddie is from tennessee REALLY husked my corn 🤠 also, this may or may not have been inspired by the bull fight scene in hoard

cw: daydream p in v sex, riding, eddie gets a hard on watching reader ride, innuendos, play on words

Stamina. Strength. Strategy. Safety. The Four Important S’s when it comes to bull-riding. 

‘Support’ is your unofficial fifth. You’ve generated quite the following after showcasing your riding skills at Whisky Jim’s every Saturday night, the ooohs and aaahs of your spectators filling the air as the spotlight drenches your cute… calculated… perspiring body. 

Bull-riding at the dive bar every weekend has become a favorite hobby of yours. It’s a perfect outlet for all the stress, the rough-and-tough of it all perfectly counterbalancing your slow-as-snails, but somehow busy and draining 9 to 5. Riding gave you something to look forward to.

“Look at her go,” an onlooker coos in admiration. “She’s got life by the goddamn horns.”

You toss your head back, glossy lips parted in excitement as the crowd’s appreciative hoots and whistles filled the air.  You could get used to this. You have gotten used to this.

Even with the world at your feet, things were starting to get boring again. And you are constantly craving something wild, something new. Something or someone that will make like the bull by sweeping you off your feet and taking you out for a spin.

Someone like Eddie Munson, perhaps.

Eddie isn’t sure what drew him… here out of all places. But something about the rowdiness compels him as he climbs out of his van, Halen and into the bar, boots scuffing the hard wooden floor. But the flight-risk metalhead is determined to find out, itching for adventure as he saunters with feigned confidence into the southern saloon. 

He flags down the closest bartender, a country heartthrob of a man with black hair and blue eyes. The Casanaova places a coaster down in front of him as Eddie steps up to the plate. “What’ll ya be havin’?”

“Anything local,” Eddie replies, more of a question, unsure of what exactly is available. “Anything hoppy.”

“Bottle or Tap?” the man follows up after a curt nod, mindlessly running a hand over his thick mustache.

“Tap. Pint, please.”  

The bartender gives another nod before disappearing to fulfill Eddie’s request. Meanwhile, the outcast takes this short window of time to look up and down the bar at the different patrons. 

All from different walks of life. But all here for presumably the same reason.Whisky Jim’s is decently packed, but for the most part, the crowd is congregated either in booths, at tables, or in the middle of the floor.

A glass is placed onto the coaster. The same deep country twang effectively regains Eddie’s attention.

“Wanna start a tab, brother?” The older man asks with a polite grin, eyes crinkling up at the sides as he does. 

Eddie offers a polite smile in return.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.” 

The bartender studies him intently this time, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“First timer?”

 Eddie clears his throat uneasily, kicking at the peanut casings at his feet to avoid contact with the John Wayne of a man that was in front of him.

“Obvious?” 

The man cackles at Eddie, the slight patronization of the old-timer’s demeanor making him want to evaporate. But the amused blue eyes and downturned smile indicates it’s all in good fun, much like his uncle Wayne who always liked giving him a hard time whenever he made himself too small. 

“Son, you couldn’t stick out further if you were a dog’s balls.” 

A fellow bartender laughs at the man’s remark. Then Eddie joins in. It was pretty funny. 

“You just don’t really look like the kind to be into square dancin’, is all,” the bartender remarks as he narrows his eyes at Eddie. Eddie shrugs and takes a sip of his beer, slightly wincing as the first sip hits him.

“Well, you’re not wrong. Just thought I’d explore a bit outside of my usual.” 

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Eddie.”

“Greg.” The bartender gives him his hand to shake. “You from around here or you comin’ from outta town?” 

“Hawkins.” 

“Not too far from home then. And it seems you came on a good night.” 

And as if on cue, the crowd towards the middle of the building erupts in cheers. Eddie briefly glances over his shoulder in the general direction before turning back to Greg with a curious head tilt.

“What’s happening?” 

Greg nods his head over in the direction of the crowd.

“Bull Ridin’ Night.”

Your thighs are wrapped around the firm leather seat as you’re whisked around in one fluid motion. You turn to give your rapt audience a wink. The crowd eats up your presence, evident by the adorn kisses they blow your way. You buy into the theatrics, pretending to catch them before putting them in your back pocket for later. It only riles the audience up more.

“They bring that thing out on Saturdays,” Greg explains. “Between the Karaoke Nights and the Hoedowns, Bull Ridin’ is one of the most popular.”

 Eddie tries another glance in that direction, but due to the crowd, he doesn’t have the best view of who is actually riding.

 “You gon’ give it a try?”

 Eddie’s head whips back around to the older man to find a teasing smirk on his face. Eddie shakes his head.

“I… don’t think so.” He chuckles. “I’m not the most balanced or coordinated person.” He admits that with a grimace and another sip of his Hawkins Pale Ale. 

“I’m just teasin’ ya, boy. HEY!” Greg whistles at the bartender next to him. “Who’s up there now?” 

 The coworker throws a quick glance over their shoulder before replying. There’s a bashful smirk when they reply, 

“Who do you think?” 

The crowd erupts again, cheers and whistles alike. Who else gets this kind of crowd engagement? No one else other than you, of course. 

“Looks like my girl is up there breakin’ hearts again.” Greg lets out a soft laugh. 

Eddie gulps as his breathing shallows. A girl? Up there? On that thing?

Eddie, once again, nearly strains his neck trying to get a glimpse of the rider. When he fails, Eddie turns back to the bar, downing the final quarter of his pint, before looking back at Greg.

“Fetch me a bottle for the road, yeah?”

 Greg issues him a chuckle, grabbing the empty glass and handing him a bottle version of that very ale, while Eddie sets off on his curiosity journey to the middle of the floor.

“Boys will be boys.” Greg’s female coworker remarks with sassy pursed lips.

Eddie closes in on the crowd,  slipping through the few empty spaces between the onlookers with half-assed ‘Excuse me’s. Though no one was paying him any mind. And when he settles by the barrier, just a mere two rows behind, he finally gets the perfect view of you.

Eddie couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face at the sight of you working the crowd. He watches as you give a practiced flick of your hips to get the crowd going and the enticing jiggle of your breasts under your tight shirt. Drew in Eddie’s eyes like a laser beam. The thin material was stretched taut, giving a hint of the perfect tits underneath as you arched your lower back and thrust your chest forward to keep your balance. 

“Christ,” he exhales sharply, in awe of your natural performance, the boisterous, unpredictable gravity of the machine whirling you around as you wrestle to hold on. 

His eyes drink in the sight of the soft, rounded curve of your ass that peeked out of the bottom of your faded Daisy Duke’s as you lean forward to steady yourself in the saddle.

WHOOSH!

The bull jerks sideways and you flex your thighs and circle your hips in the saddle to keep yourself astride. The plush skin of your upper thighs press tightly against the seat and your upper body sways in rhythm with the bull’s movement. 

You were born to ride.

“That’s how you do it, Indiana!” a spectator hoots in adoration as you cling on for dear life. “That’s how you do it!”

You give a deep roll of your hips to meet the thrust of the machine, causing Eddie to run the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip before sucking in a shaky breath. Your hips… the way they roll… is almost hypnotic, and Eddie’s brown doe eyes can’t help but linger on the sliver of skin that peeks out, black, intricate swirls of cyber-sigilism that tease him slightly. 

Fuck.

“God, she’s so pretty…” he thinks to himself. “And she knows how to ride.”

Eddie’s eyes trail to the white of your knuckles, his own fingers gripping the bottle of his beer when his eyes slide up your arm and land on your face.

The front of his pants start to feel uncomfortably tight. Eddie adjusts himself as discreetly as he could, but even the soft brush of his fingers against the strained denim causes  him to hiss under his breath.

“Ride it, cowgirl!” an audience’s comment centers Eddie once again. “LET ‘EM KNOW!”

The way you matched the bull’s gyrations and anticipated its every move made him weak in the knees, and as he watched you swirl your hips in the saddle like a modern day Annie Oakley he couldn’t help but wish it was him straddled between your shapely thighs instead. 

As Eddie stood there watching, the dull roar of the crowd faded into the background. At that moment it was just you and him. 

In his mind he’s already lassoed you to his bed; and you’re sat astride him like a cowgirl in your saddle, hands splayed on his chest for balance as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. And you’d bite down on your plush lower lip and let out a soft moan as you sank down onto him slowly, taking your time and adjusting to his size. 

“Oh, Eddie,” he could almost hear you purring. “It’s so big.”

And he’d chuckle with false modesty and rub a hand tenderly along your thigh as if to soothe the delicious stretch of his thick girth.Then once you adjusted, you’d move, meeting each unpredictable roll of his hips with your own as you mastered the rhythm of your very own long-haired bucking bronco.

And he’d be gripping you tight with each deep thrust, pistoning, plowing himself into you while watching his cock disappear into your slick pussy over and over with each forceful snap of his hips. And with every strained mewl he milks out of you he’d press you down by the hips and drill into you further, your weak cunt just about ready to tap out on top of him. This handsome bull’s sure a challenge, you’d be thinking to yourself. Eddie is a ride you wouldn’t be able to survive.

———

The crowd disperses when the show is over. Eddie stands a bit straighter when you finally leave the middle of the floor, eyes darting towards the plush smirk that your soft lips create. If it’s even possible, he thinks you look even more heavenly. He’s sure you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him. 

Little does he know that for you, he’s taken that same effect. You’ve grown so accustomed to everyone here that a new face has captured your attention. And you felt him staring at you, with a gaze so impassioned that you just about almost lost your footing up there. But you pulled it off real well, attempting to shake off the redirection in the form of a dramatic bounce of your tits.

It perplexes you. A man making you that nervous? Up until late, it’s become rather unheard of. You want to know this man and see for yourself what his energy is all about.

Eddie finds himself fixing his appearance when he notices your legs striding over, clearing his throat as his palm slides over the stubble that he had been trying to grow. 

“You know it’s kinda rude to stare the way that you do,” you remark.

“How so?” Eddie challenges. “Everyone else is doing it. What makes me different from everybody?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” you smile at him.

Eddie shifts his weight onto the counter, bringing the bottle up to his lips, taking another gulp. His eyes dart everywhere -- the metal buckle of your belt, the skin that was shiny with dried sweat, your hands that tap at the sticky countertop of the bar, the way your lips wrap around the tip of your bottle and the liquid that slips out and down your chin that he greedily wanted to tongue away. 

“Funny,” you observe. “I’m here every Saturday and I’ve never once seen your face.”

He thinks he’s looking over at an angel, really, heart beating faster when he realizes it’s him that you’d made an effort to come up to. Made an effort to get to know.

“Interesting that you saw me.”

“I see everything from up there. And you’re a newcomer, I can tell. Sticking out like a sore thumb in the best way.”

You invite him into your energy, closing up the distance between the two of you with a graceful stride in his direction.

“You were amazing,” Eddie says to you. “Really know how to put on a show, cowgirl.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie insists. “Spotlight loves you. Killer crowd engagement as well.”

“You a performer too?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Mmm, I don’t know…” you sigh dreamily. “Just a fellow performer lookin’ for some tips and pointers.”

Not much needs to be said to know that you two ache for each other, judging by how the intimate dive bar grows non-existent for as long as you two are captured in the forcefield of each other. Eddie thinks that there would be absolutely nothing better than giving you some pointers, his hand leaving the bottle, some of the liquid sloshing around the precipitating glass, heart pounding in his ears as he nods quickly. One rowdy night wouldn’t hurt anybody, he thinks to himself. And it’s very apparent that, the stunner that is you, wants take him for a spin.

“So what do you say, cowboy?” you cock an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t we ride off into the sunset, just you and me?”

dividers by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @saradika @mikeykuns

[thebimbopalace]

ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: with your ‘lover’ going out of town on business, he leaves you under the watchful eye of his most trusted hitman toji fushiguro — who grinds your gears.

wc: 1.1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: mafia au, hitman!toji fushiguro x fem!reader, foul language, feminine pet names, allusions to sëxual encounters, reader's ‘lover’ referred to as ‘wallet’

authors note: inspired by a scene from the film scarface.

“fushiguro, make sure this girl is taken care of while i'm gone,” your ‘lovers’ scratchy voice instructs the man cloaked in black before you both. the man gives a curt nod to his boss as he stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

as you sit there, bored, your wallet comes over and gives a chaste kiss on your jawline as he warns you to behave while he’s gone for the next few days. you give him your signature sweet fake smile as he walks out the double oak doors leaving you and the dark-haired hitman alone.

silence. silence envelopes you both along with that tension. it seems nonexistent to the naked eye but, you and toji know all too well that this sexual tension is anything but new. that doesn’t stop you from ignoring his obvious hungry stares while scanning your body.

you stand from your seat bending down and fixing the strap of your saint-laurent heel before straightening your posture. “if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to retire for the night,” you speak politely to the man before you, wanting to get out of this stuffy tension-infested office.

“that’s so? alone?” toji teases with that stupid smirk gracing his oddly plump lips. you lock eyes with him, not breaking away from his irises. “well yes, who else would i bring to my bed?” you inquired knowing where this was going. the question you just asked opened the door for toji.

and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t walk through it.

“you’re lookin’ at ‘em,” and there it is. right on cue. you can’t even sneeze without this man making some kind of pass at you. not to say that you aren’t flattered. you recognize that toji is an attractive man. scratch that, a very attractive man. but, with you fucking his boss that means you’re basically off-limits to anyone. even to the infamous toji fushiguro.

“don’t get the wrong idea fushiguro,” the snark evident in your tone. a stark contrast to your modest demeanor towards your wallet's subordinates. toji doesn't flinch at the, dare he say, bitchy tone in your voice. this is expected from you. so predictable, so easy to tease. “call me toji, pretty girl,” toji drawls, that teasing lilt ever so present.

that fucking nickname. you hate it.

you hate the way it makes you feel. the slow spread of flush, making your skin sizzle with arousal, the beating of your heart knocking against your chest when he looks at you with his fiery indigo eyes blown with desire and longing. he's getting under your skin. and he relishes it. you swallow down the lust rearing its ugly head clearing your throat.

“fine . . toji, don’t get the wrong idea, i don’t fuck with the help,” you warn. you trying to remind toji of his place is cute to him. he knows who you are to his boss, you know who you are to his boss, and frankly . . . he doesn't give a fuck. “you look like you don’t fuck, period,” he mocks as he crosses his burly arms over his chest, cotton sleeves straining against his beefy biceps.

“excuse me?”

“ahh seems like those pretty ears don’t work either,” he chuckles as he takes one step closer to you. his expensive cologne rises to your nostrils making your mind all fuzzy. his hulking frame dwarfs yours as he invades your personal space creating a thick, viscous atmosphere simmering with heat around you both.

“what i said was you look like you don’t fuck. i mean c’mon, that hot body of yours hasn’t been fucked properly in a looong time, right?” as his eyes scan the tantalizing divots of your body so obviously.

you’re pissed. not only at his blatant lack of a filter but also that . . . he’s right. it has been a long time. but you’re not going to admit that to him of all people. “who or when i fuck is none of your business,” you spit with venom standing your ground, maintaining eye contact. he wants you to crack, to be shy in the presence of him and his nonsense. 

too bad for him.

he chuckles. that damned sound that makes your blood pressure skyrocket from the vibrations. “guess i was right.” his mitt of a hand extends as his calloused fingers tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “a shame really, a stunning beauty like you not getting the treatment she deserves,” clicking his tongue.

you scoff as you slap his hand away, “what do you know about treating anyone right?” the words leave your mouth like a river of molten lava, hoping to burn him with each word you utter. you scan his features to gauge his reaction and you find nothing. not a wince at the low blow you just dished out to him.

toji isn't going to let you see him sweat. you both are alike in that fashion. “touché, but i do know about pussy. and yours is probably in need of a good fuckin’. hmmm?” toji muses as his dark brow lifts, waiting for your answer. “wrong,” you lie. you and him both know you're lying. that's why, like clockwork, a chuckle escapes the back of his throat. he leans dangerously close to your face, lips a millimeter apart from yours.

“oh? bet if i slip my tongue in that begging cunt, she’ll start cryin’ for me," his seductive whisper brushes over your lips and kneads itself into your core, chipping away at the wall you thought you created between you two. “doubt that toji,” you firmly state, making sure to hide your ever-growing thirst from his closeness.

“yeah? come to my bed tonight, and we'll put that to the test," he challenges. a smug bastard is what he is. he truly expects you to say yes to his offer. to drop your guard, letting him finally have a taste of your saccharine slick that he'll happily lap up like a dog to a water bowl. unfortunately for him and maybe you, your pride is still fully intact.

you glare at him, voice raising an octave, “look, even if i were stranded, needy, begging for cock on a deserted island, you'd be the last thing i'd ever fuck.” and with that, you storm out the office heading down the hall towards your lavish bedroom without sparing him a glance. toji is left alone mulling over what just happened. your words said one thing but the appetite in your eyes said another. that passion, that fire, it's what keeps toji coming back.

you're normally so docile, polite even, to his boss and the other men who worked alongside him. but with toji, the real you came out. and for that, is why his interest is piqued.

“atta girl”

@shokosprincess @shaguro @sttoru @chromimis — *mwah*

2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

[shotmrmiller]

catching the unwanted attention of someone is currently my fave thing.

like having a sister or a friend that's dating (fully dating, happy 6+ months of it) simon and it's all cool, it's all fine. tells you that you should totally meet him and when you do, you're incredibly uncomfortable. he has you on full alert, your spidey senses tingle in his presence.

you think it's unfair-- feels like you're judging a book by its cover so you forcibly plant a ㅤsmile on your face and shake his hand.

he grips a little too tight, but okay- men of business and such tend to have a firm handshake, no big deal. (even if it felt like it was absurdly indecent)

but for someone who your friend claimed to be the silent type he sure is asking a lot of simple questions.

but it feels intrusive. personal. you're on guard immediately.

it's not what do you do for a living, it's i bet your job keeps you busy. to answer it with a curt, yes it does, would seem uncivil and your friend would get on your ass about it later. why are you being so rude? he's only making conversation.

asks you what you did for christmas eve, and the "we did blank" is on the tip of your tongue, but your friend would call you out on it. you're dating someone? since when?

the glint in his eye when you're forced to grind out that oh, just spend time with my family is unmistakable.

and then your friend goes to the bloody bathroom, leaving you alone with him.

"why so tense, love?"

"don't call me that," you stiffly say.

he chuckles under his breath, then tips his head to the side. "just a bri'ish thing."

lies. "haven't heard you call her that once, and she's supposed to be your love, right?"

simon's dark eyes are sharp as he looks at you, and hums.

guess the only one that's happily in this farce of a relationship is your friend.

you leave as soon as you're able, with a quick hug to your friend and when simon gestures for a side hug, you stare at him with pursed lips until your friend hisses to be polite.

nothing about the way his fingers dug into the side of your waist when you reluctantly leaned in was polite.

(bastard! he's so gross!)

[katebishopsbow]

ENIGMA • OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing: oscar piastri x reader (18+)

summary: your best friend's brother seems to always be keeping a friendly distance from you. intrigued by how reserved and quiet he is, you devise an evil little plan to make him lose control and uncover the facade behind his polite smiles and curt greetings.

warnings: sexual content (minors dni), sub!oscar, praising, corruption kink, finger sucking, spit, handjob

word count: 3k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Oscar Piastri is an enigma, a riddle you yearn to solve.

You see him occasionally whenever you visit your best friend’s house, purposefully lingering later in the night to catch a glimpse of her brother coming home from practice. He would give you a small smile, and make some light conversations with you and his sister before excusing himself upstairs in hurried steps.

He is always so quiet, so shy and closed off, always keeping a friendly distance from you as if getting too close would burn. It intrigues you more than anything, and maybe a wicked part of you wants to unveil the secrets hiding behind that facade of polite smiles and friendly greetings. You want to see him lose control – to be the one to make him lose control.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Oscar comes home from an exhausting day of practice – muscle sore, completely starving, and in desperate need of a quiet, relaxing night. When he enters the kitchen to get some water, he’s surprised to see you there alone wearing a rather flimsy top that reveals more skin than usual, with his sister nowhere in sight. “Oh – hey,” he greets politely like he always does, shooting you a half smile as he trains his eyes on your face instead of your revealing neckline. 

What a gentleman, right? 

“Hey, Oscar,” you return the smile, your mind already coming up with a devious plan to break his resolve. “Is Olivia here?” he asks as he glances around the house, searching for signs of his sister since the two of you are almost always inseparable. “Something came up. She told me to wait for her here, said she’ll be back in an hour,” you say to him, to which he answers with a quick nod of his head, “Oh, okay, cool.” Classic Oscar, always so reserved and never uttering more than a few words to you. Yet this only manages to fuel your desire to discover what’s hiding underneath and watch him lose his composure.

With a friendly smile, you gesture at the tray of chocolate cupcakes on the counter in front of you and say, “I brought over some cupcakes. Try them!” Oscar’s eyes almost light up at the sight of the sugary treat. The only things he has eaten during the day are a protein shake and a turkey sandwich he packed this morning that did nothing to keep him full, so the boy immediately picks one up and gives it a huge bite, eyes widening at how delicious they are. “These are good!” 

How cliche, you think as you stare at the chocolate frosting at the corner of his mouth. 

“You have a little something on your…” you let out a giggle as you point at his lips, and with an embarrassed grimace, Oscar hurriedly wipes at his mouth with his hands. He’s about to bring his thumb up to his lips when you suddenly stop him, grabbing onto his wrist mid-air as he tilts his head in confusion. “Uhh – what are you…?” he questions with a puzzled look and furrowed eyebrows, and his words fall to silence when he watches you slowly bring his hand toward your face.

Oscar feels like he’s suffocating, like his head is being submerged in deep waters as your lips slowly fall open, tongue darting out to give his finger a kitten lick, just to test his reaction. He supposes he should be tugging his hand back, pushing you off of him frantically, but he feels like he physically can’t, or maybe he simply doesn’t want to. 

So when he doesn’t pull away in disgust and freaks out like a part of you expects him to, you take it as a sign to continue your devious little plan. Oscar can feel his stomach drop, his breath catching in his throat like all the oxygen has left his body, especially when you smirk and envelop his entire finger into your mouth. 

“What are you doing…” he asks in a breathy groan as he tries his damned hardest to recompose himself, holding back the desperate urge to moan at the way you hollow out your cheeks and suck until the tip of his finger just grazes the back of your throat. Fuck, why the fuck does this feel so good already? Something about the haze in your eye makes a chill run down his spine – dangerous and a little twisted, and it’s enough to make Oscar want to surrender himself to you in whatever ways possible, in whatever ways you’d take him.

Every rational thought inside his head is telling him to stop, screaming at him to put an end to whatever madness this is. This is insane, absolutely ridiculous, and you two really shouldn’t be doing this. His sister can be home at any minute, not to mention that he definitely shouldn’t be doing such sinful acts with his sister’s best friend. Unfortunately, his body is betraying him and the tightness in his pants is a clear enough indicator that his facade is starting to crumble. He’s losing control and he knows it, and maybe it’s about time that he realizes how utterly screwed he is. 

When you finally pull off of him, a string of spit connects his finger to your glossy lips, and Oscar almost moans at the lewd sight. “Fuck…” The sigh that falls from his lips makes you smile, because while he will never admit this, you can tell that he’s secretly enjoying whatever you are doing to him. 

Feeling courageous, you move closer toward the boy until your bodies press directly against each other, feeling the radiating heat from his skin through the layers of clothes he has yet to change out of. You lean in to plant a kiss on his neck, and another, and another, suckling on the delicate skin until a purplish-blue bruise begins to form when you feel Oscar wordlessly tilting his head to allow you more access. In the corner of your eye, you can see him biting down on his lips as if he’s trying his hardest to stifle his sounds, and you can’t have that, no. 

You need to hear him, to listen to the way you’re affecting him while drinking in every little whine and plea of his until he comes. So you allow your hand to slide, trailing along the soft lines of his chest and abs until it reaches the hemline of his jeans. Oscar squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation, waiting for you to touch him where he needs you the most, yet that feeling never comes. “What?” he asks breathily when his eyes flutter open once again and is greeted by a grin on your face he would only describe as evil, calculative, as if you have everything planned out in your mind already – which isn’t exactly far off from the truth.

“You want me to touch you, Osc?” you say to him, voice sweet and mellow, knowing damn well what his answer is going to be. The bulge over his pants is rather prominent, and it must not have felt very nice under the confinement of his jeans, but you just want to hear him say it. You need to hear him admit it, that he wants this, that he wants you just as much as you want him – and also just to tease him a little.

Oscar nods his head, wishfully hoping that this is somehow enough since his ego won’t allow him to say anything more. To no avail, you shake your head at his silent response. “Yes or no, baby?” The nickname has him inhaling a shuddering breath, his head becoming foggy with lust and the burning need to be properly touched by you. It hurts – he’s so hard and his jeans are so tight, and all he wants is your fingers and lips around him. 

All he needs to do is say the word, just say that he wants it and you will give him everything he needs and more, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud, he just can’t do it. Maybe it is his headstrong personality, but Oscar doesn’t beg for anything. He never has to beg for anything that he wants, he simply works for it and gets it. Good grades, his parents’ approval, sponsorships, karting and race wins. He doesn’t beg – never has and never will – but god does he want to get on his knees and beg for you right now.

He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that he’s having an inner battle within himself, so you decide to be nice and give him a little… push. “Please, baby, please let me touch your cock. Let me make you feel good, Osc,” you pout your lips and look at him with the most desperate, pleading eyes ever, and he swears he is genuinely going to pass out.

Oscar likes to think he is in control most of the time, laid back and calm even in the most unpredictable times. Nothing can ever faze him, and he takes pride in that. But as he stands here before you, pushed back into the kitchen counter as you beg to jerk him off with the prettiest pair of eyes, every ounce of inhibition and self-control has suddenly evaporated from his body. 

So he lets himself go, and he lets you take – whatever you want. “Please, I want it,” he gasps out a strained whine as he returns the same pleading expression, shoving whatever “I never beg” principle he used to have to the very back of his mind and lets himself have this, lets himself have you. “Good boy.” Your words coax a breathy moan out of him, loud and unashamed and almost pornographic. You haven’t even properly touched him, and yet he already feels like he’s been completely taken apart by you, with every single part of his body humming in anticipation.

“Unbuckle your pants for me, baby.” Oscar doesn’t need to hear it twice, rushed hands fumbling with his belt to pull down his zipper, his eagerness endearingly funny. He looks at you with awaiting eyes after he’s done, trying his best to be patient as he waits for your next instructions. Placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, you slowly slip your hand into his pants, delicate fingers wrapping around the length of Oscar’s erection. Fucking finally, he thinks to himself.

His face contorts in pleasure when you begin tightening your hand, giving him a few unhurried, lazy strokes up and down his cock. “Argh… holy fucking shit…” Oscar isn’t normally much of a swearer, but he can’t seem to control himself nor the words spilling from his lips when your fingers feel so good around him. 

He lets out a displeased whine when you abruptly remove your hand from his jeans, staring at you with dazed eyes as you bring it in front of his mouth. “Spit,” you order, and Oscar being the good boy that he is, immediately obliges, gathering the saliva in his mouth and letting it dribble down to your palm. “That’s my good boy.” Using Oscar’s spit as lube, your hand returns to its original placement and begins moving, this time with much firmer strokes.

Oscar’s eyes snap close at the electrifying sensation, and he feels like his brain is melting inside his head from the overbearing pleasure that envelops him. Every muscle, every bone, every fiber of his entire being tingles with nerves, and your hand feels so warm and slippery and tight and so, so fucking good. He wonders if he’s dreaming, if he’ll suddenly come to his senses and wake up from whatever fever dream this is with a sticky mess under his covers.

The thing is, you have always been gorgeous. Oscar has eyes, and he cannot lie and say that he has never ogled at you when came over to their house and had your back turned, or that he never allowed his mind to wander in the late hours at night as he thinks about you indecent ways – ways a boy should never think about his sister’s best friend. He knows how wrong this entire thing is, with your fingers around him as he moans at how good you’re making him feel, but he doesn’t ever want to stop. So he prays, ever so solemnly to whatever higher power out there that this is real, that you are real, and please please please he just needs you to stroke him faster.

“Please, faster, I need – I need more!” 

Now how could you ever say no to him when he looks so good writhing in your arms like this? So you pick up the speed, pumping his cock in faster strokes and occasionally thumbing against the slit when you reach the head. “Does it feel good, Osc?” Oscar frantically nods his head at your question, gasping out strings of barely coherent curses under his breath, “Yes, yes, fuck! It feels so good, so fucking good…” 

“Good boy… I bet it does,” you lean down to brush a kiss on his jaw, relishing in the whiny moans that never stop spilling from his raw, bitten lips. “You’re my good boy, aren’t you?” Oscar nods again, eyes rolling to the back of his head whenever you draw teasing circles over his frenulum. but you want to hear him say it, to admit that he’s yours. “Say it,” you repeat yourself, purposefully slowing down the movements of your hand as you await his answer.

“I’m your good – boy!” he breathes out in a groan, wanting more than anything to be good for you. “That’s right, baby, you’re my pretty boy,” you whisper into his ear, and it’s nothing but the truth. With his hips bucking up into your hand in a desperate chase of pleasure as wonton moans never stop falling from his parted lips, Oscar has never looked prettier. Not the kind of pretty that makes you want to take him out to dinner and kiss him under the moonlight, but the kind of pretty that makes you want to take him apart and put him back together, to ruin him and make his eyes roll to the back of his head until he remembers nothing but your name.

You can tell Oscar is getting close with the way his breathing picks up and how he frantically grabs onto your hips just for something to hold onto. He’s jerked himself off before, plenty of times, but he has never felt anything like this – how you’re able to turn him into a malleable, whimpering mess with just a few deft strokes. It’s unfair how stupid-good your hands are, Oscar thinks to himself. Somehow he can’t find it in himself to be upset about it though, not when he’s too occupied with falling apart in your arms. 

“You’re gonna be a good boy and come all over my fingers, Osc?” Oscar barely manages to nod, making an almost begging noise in the process, and perhaps he would be embarrassed if it isn’t for how fucking turned on and insatiable he feels. “Yeah? You’re gonna come for me and watch me swallow every drop, baby?” Fuck, he is definitely not going to last when you’re muttering straight-up filth into his ears. 

When his eyes flutter close, he lets his imagination run wild the way he always does when he lies in his bed, hand stuffed into his pants while fantasizing about his sister’s best friend. He imagines you getting on your knees, opening your mouth with your tongue sticking out and waiting patiently as he spills all over you. He imagines your face covered in his come – so filthy and sinful – and you scoop them up with your fingers before sliding them inside your mouth. He imagines coming inside of you, warm and tight and so perfect for him. “I wish you were inside me instead, Osc,” you breathe into his ear, and that’s when he feels himself tipping over the edge.

Broken gasps and breathy whimpers are all Oscar can manage as his body overrides with pleasure – pure and utter euphoria that sends strikes of lighting down his spine. The pace of his hips stutters, and he thrusts up into your fingers once, twice, until his come splatters all over your hand, making a complete mess. Lines of white trickle down between your fingers, and he’s still desperately trying to catch his breath when you lift your hand and bring it to your lips. “Jesus fucking Christ…” he groans at the filthy sight of you sucking your fingers clean, lapping up his come and swallowing down everything with a teasing smirk.

You gently thumb at the streak of white that has spilled from the corner of your mouth, swipe it away and bring it to Oscar’s lips. Eager to please and obedient as ever, he parts his lips and lets you push your finger into his mouth, licking the taste of himself away. “You’re so good for me, baby,” you praise him softly, rubbing teasing circles over his glossy lips upon removing your finger. Oscar pouts, silently looking at you with eyes that say “Please kiss me” and you just have to reward him after everything, right?

Slowly, you lean in and press a kiss on his awaiting lips, feeling the way Oscar’s mouth falls open so willingly and melts into you without second thoughts. He isn’t a particularly great kisser, but it’s precisely his unskilled and inexperienced movements that make him so, so addictive. The thought of being the one to ruin him, to teach him all the ways you can make him feel good, to be the one to uncover his facade and make him lose control is exactly why you will never get enough of him. Now that you’ve seen him lose control, you don’t think you can ever stop. You can never stay away from him, and neither can he.

“Until next time, pretty boy.