#something that has absolutely nothing to do with his career | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starryhyuck · 1 month

Text

under his desk. (m)

pairing: ceo!johnny x afab!reader

words: 7.4k+

summary: you discover your new boss has a secret hidden up his sleeve.

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: talks of violence, reader is jaehyun’s sister, rough sex, slight breeding kink, sir kink, public sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, mentions of throat fucking

“I need a job.”

Jaehyun’s mouth is wide open, spoon hovering over a bowl of soup, inches away from sitting on his tongue. His eyes dart up to see your anxious expression, eyebrows pulled together. He sighs, resting his spoon back down before leaning back in his chair.

“So this is why my sister finally reaches out to have dinner with me,” Jaehyun says, running a hand down his face exasperatedly.

“Come on, Jae,” you plead, fingers twisted in the napkin on your lap. A large chandelier hovers over the two of you, illuminating the disappointment gracing Jaehyun’s face. “You know I would never ask you for a favor like this unless I really have to.”

He observes the serious look on your face. It’s been years since you’ve reached out to him, the two of you losing touch after you parted ways when graduating from university. Your brother set off to a successful career in finance, climbing rank until he was nearly at the top, making an enormous amount of money that he had no clue what to do with. You were the opposite, chasing your dream of writing at a huge publishing firm, only to be met with disappointment by a few odd jobs and barely enough cash to cover the bills. You never asked Jaehyun for help even though you both knew you needed it.

He has a contemplative air cast around him, fingers rubbing at his chin lightly.

“I don’t know anyone in the writing world-“

“It doesn’t have to be that,” you immediately interject. You don’t care if he can smell the desperation across the table. “I’ve given up on that dream. I just need something stable, something I don’t have to make backup plans for if it falls through.”

He sighs again. “There is something, but it’s not easy-“

“I’ll take it, Jae. Please, I promise I won’t fuck this up.”

He stares at you for a while, taking in the hunger in your eyes. He hasn’t seen you like this since you graduated, proclaiming that you would become a best-selling writer before the year’s end. Now, you’re simply a girl crushed by the weight of your dreams and chasing a solid figure in your bank account.

“Let me see what I can do.”

—

You straighten your skirt for the umpteenth time, clutching the clipboard to your chest for dear life. The stiletto heels are digging into your feet but you keep your toes as straight as possible, trying your best to look like you know what you’re doing.

The door flies open and you take a deep breath. Johnny Suh walks by you without a word, taking his seat at his desk before finally sparing you a glance. His eyebrow raises at your appearance but he says nothing else.

“Good morning, sir,” you say with a smile. “I have your morning reports here and your daily schedule. Which would you like first?”

“My coffee.”

You pause, the smile slipping off of your face. “Y-Your coffee?”

He’s not amused in the slightest. “Black, no sugar. I expect it on my desk as soon as I walk into this room.”

“Yes, sir.”

A few beats pass. “Well?”

You stumble, racing for the door and exiting his office. You calculate there is absolutely no way you could make it to a coffee shop and be back on time, instead heading for the break room. You exhale as you place an empty cup under one of the high tech machines, waiting patiently as it brews for you.

“You’re the new assistant, aren’t you?” A voice questions. Another man walks into the room, taking a cup for himself and occupying another machine. He outstretches his hand to you. “I’m Doyoung.”

You shake his hand and smile politely, offering your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, watching as you carefully take the brewed cup of black coffee from the machine and search for a lid. “How’s the boss so far?”

You chuckle dryly. “Well, it’s my first day and I already forgot his coffee, so I can confidently say it’s not going well.”

He throws you an apologetic look. Before you can exit, he speaks again. “In my experience, Johnny favors resilience over anything. If you can show him that you’re serious about this without making a fuss, then he’ll reward you for the hard work.”

You smile thankfully. After bidding Doyoung goodbye, you make your way back into Johnny’s office, grateful to have met someone willing to help you navigate this job. Jaehyun warned you it would be difficult since Johnny was a particular man, to quote your brother, but you’ve handled much worse than a snooty CEO. You’re not one to back down this easily.

You slide the warm cup across his desk. His eyes are shifted downwards, shuffling through mountains of paperwork. He doesn’t glance up at you as he takes his first sip, lips twisting in a grimace. He turns his torso and points out the windows covering the back wall of his office.

“You’ll pick up my coffee order from that shop going forward,” he instructs. You have no idea what location he’s referring to as the view is just out of your eye line, but you make a mental note to check it later.

You nod obediently before taking your clipboard back into your hands, reciting his schedule for the day.

“You have a meeting with the board of directors at ten, a one-on-one with the CFO of Kim Enterprises at eleven, lunch at twelve, and back-to-back meetings regarding the Baek acquisition after lunch,” you say, handing him the sheet from your clipboard. He takes it roughly, sighing as he glances over it. “Here are the morning reports as well. Anything particular you’re craving for today?”

He regards you carefully, and you squirm underneath his judging gaze.

“You’re Jaehyun’s sister, is that correct?”

You swallow. “Yes, sir.”

He says nothing else in relation to the topic. “A sandwich from the Kim’s shop down the street will be just fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

—

After a few weeks of trial and tribulations, you can safely say you have found your footing as Johnny Suh’s assistant.

He is particular, yes, but you can see now that it is only due to the success of the business. When sitting by his side during his meetings to take notes, you’ve noticed how fast he is to shut down any propositions that seem like a waste of time and only approve ideas that are carefully constructed and thought out. Employees appear to equally fear and respect him, which Johnny was well aware of.

You can’t quite tell if he’s pleased with your work, but he hasn’t issued any complaints since the first day you joined. You ensure a cup of warm coffee from Min’s Market is on his desk every morning and a warm sandwich from the Kim’s is delivered to him by lunch. You made an effort to reorganize the filing system his prior assistant had tried to keep up with, which made both your and Johnny’s day easier whenever you needed to access an important document. You have his work schedule texted to his phone every morning instead of using the old paper route, which you find a lot more efficient, yet unsure if Johnny expresses the same sentiment.

It’s conflicting. You feel as if you’re doing a good job but your boss makes no effort to display praise. The only thing you keep reminding yourself of is Doyoung’s comment about resilience, and how you can expect Johnny to reward you in due time.

A call of your name disrupts your typing on your computer, and you’re quick to rise on your feet as you enter Johnny’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“Ten just called me on my personal line. Make arrangements in my schedule for me to meet him today.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, writing down the instructions on your clipboard. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He pauses, staring at you thoughtfully. You hate it when he does this because you can never read what’s swimming in his head.

“You’re going to Jaehyun’s engagement party, I assume?”

You were ecstatic when your brother called with the news a week ago. He had known Miyeon since university and they stayed together through all the hectic chaos of Jaehyun’s career. He told you they were holding a small party at their penthouse this Sunday, and you were happy to attend in celebration.

You smile and nod. “Yes, I’ll be there, sir.”

He bobs his head once before waving his hand, dismissing you. You leave in confusion, but that was a normal emotion you felt around Johnny nowadays. You return to your desk and pull up his schedule, locating an empty slot for his meeting with Ten.

“How are you holding up, champ?”

You laugh when Doyoung approaches your desk, twirling a pen in his fingers. He’s made it a habit to check up on you every now and then. Another tidbit you learned when you began working here is that most people did not envy you for your position as Johnny’s assistant. If anything, they pitied you. Doyoung told you bets had been made around the office for when you would quit, to which you replied, “He’s not that bad.”

Doyoung chuckled and said, “Give it a few more weeks.”

Ever since then, he’s been spying on you for the rest of the employees, trying to see when your resolve would crumble.

“I’m still here, Doyoung,” you reply to his question, raising an eyebrow.

He grins. “That you are. Still having a hard time reading him?”

“Who doesn’t?”

He snickers. “Well, if it lifts your spirits at all, we’re heading out for drinks this weekend to take the edge off. Come and join us.”

You normally decline such an invitation as your weekends are reserved for catching up on some much needed rest. However, now that you’ve gotten a solid grasp on Johnny’s workload, you feel like a night of alcohol is exactly what you crave to wind down.

“You know what, I’ll be there.”

His grin stretches wider, and he’s about to speak again before another voice startles you.

“Mr. Kim, what are you doing?” Johnny’s stern voice asks, standing in the doorway of his office. He scrutinizes the both of you and your shoulders tense.

Doyoung scrambles. “M-Mr. Suh! I was just speaking with-“

“I can see that,” he cuts off Doyoung. Johnny narrows his eyes. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to interrupt my assistant’s work for mindless fodder about after-work events?”

“N-No-“

“It’s best if you return to your desk now, hm?”

Doyoung nods frantically, tail tucked between his legs as he nearly sprints out of the room. Johnny turns his attention to you, lips flattened in a straight line.

“I expect you not to waste time by flirting with other members of the work staff.”

Before you can protest, he’s walking back into his office, slamming the door behind him. You slouch in your chair, scoffing at his behavior.

What was his problem?

—

“I like this drink! Do you think they have tiny umbrellas behind the bar? It’ll make me feel like my life isn’t in shambles!”

You giggle at Joohyun, who is rambling loudly in your ear. It’s evident she’s had her fair share of drinks but she shows no signs of stopping.

You’re grateful Doyoung invited you to this outing because it feels like you can finally get to know your other co-workers without the walls of Johnny’s office blocking you. You feel light for the first time in weeks, and you’re not certain if it’s from the alcohol coursing through your veins or the absence of your ill-mannered boss. Either way, you’re reveling in it.

“Alright, truth or dare?”

You giggle, nearly spilling the shot of vodka in your hands. “Are you kidding me? How old are we?”

“Don’t be a sourpuss,” Doyoung says, nearly throwing his straw at you from across the table. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm, truth!”

“Boo,” Donghyuck from the marketing department yells. You pretend to throw your drink in his face and he ducks, making the whole table erupt with laughter.

“Okay, okay!” Sooyoung snickers. “Would you rather be an accomplice to a high profile murder case or fuck up Johnny’s coffee order?”

You shudder at the thought of delivering the wrong coffee to your boss, and the table is in hysterics over your expression.

“Definitely not the last one! He’ll have my head!”

The rest of the night is a blur, filled with more ridiculous dares from Donghyuck and silly questions from Sooyoung. You all part ways in the dead of the night, stumbling into taxi cabs as you wave goodbye. You elect to walk home since your apartment isn’t located too far from the bar. You shiver as the night chill nips at your arms.

You pass by another dimly lit nightclub, thrumming loudly with the sound of the bass. You know you shouldn’t, but you don’t want this night to end and crush the happy feeling in your chest. It’s the first time since university you haven’t had to worry about bills or how much the drinks of the night cost, and it spurs on your temporary foolish behavior. You enter the dodgy nightclub, convincing yourself that one more drink can’t hurt you.

The area is packed with people, namely older men with large builds and tattoos covering their forearms. You flag down a bartender.

“Hey, what’s going on tonight?” You yell over the sound of the music.

“Big fight downstairs,” he says, pointing to a staircase to the left of the bar. “Drinks down there are free for the ladies!”

Your eyebrows raise, and against your better judgment, your feet find themselves moving down the creaky staircase. The music dies down when you finally make it to the bottom, instead being filled with loud chatter from the bulky men around you.

“You’re insane if you think a newbie is going to come along and take out The Destroyer! He’s undefeated, you idiot!”

“All the greats have to fall sometime. Just watch and see!”

You make your way to the bar, which is a little more tattered and ruined than the one upstairs. The bartender’s eyes widen at the sight of you, which befuddles you until he asks, “Fan of The Destroyer?”

“Who?”

Three loud clanging sounds of a bell echo around the room, silencing the chatter. A man in a crisp tailored suit walks out, microphone in his hand. The crowd of people suddenly shuffle around until an empty square is left in the middle of the room.

“Welcome, everyone!” The man in the suit greets, the curve of his lips twisted into a smirk. “We have a great show for you tonight! For anyone looking to place their last minute bets, please locate Mr. Kim by the bar. Trust me, you won’t want to miss a fight this good!” The statement has the mass hollering while you look on in confusion. “Tonight, we have Payback in the left corner here.” The rallies grow louder as a young, lanky man comes forward, raising his fists in the air and encouraging the crowd. He stands to the left of the announcer, bouncing on the balls of his feet animatedly. “And in the right corner, we have the fan favorite, the undefeated, the legendary Destroyer!”

Your body locks up, breath caught in your throat while the room erupts in a deafening applause. Your hand covers your mouth in shock because the man who walks out, hands wrapped in red tape with his torso completely exposed, is none other than Johnny.

You nearly collapse into the bar from surprise, but the bartender reads your body language as something else.

“Incredible, isn’t he?” He says into your ear. “How much do you have on him tonight?”

You fail to respond, your mind whirling into a frenzy. There’s no possible way this could be Johnny — it had to be his long lost twin brother or you could be seeing it all wrong. From this angle though, it looks exactly like your boss, even as he wears nothing but a pair of baggy shorts hugging his waist. Your eyes drink in the litter of tattoos covering his chest, tattoos that are hidden in the daylight with his blazers and button-up shirts.

The announcer says a few more words that go completely over your head before ringing the bell, signaling the start of the fight.

You should go home. You should go home and pretend you never saw any of this. Staying here only implicates you, and you can’t imagine what Johnny would do to you if he found out you knew about his underground secret. You need this job, and staying here increases the chances of you losing it, so why can’t you move? Why can’t you pry your gaze away from the ripple in Johnny’s muscles as he lands the first blow, nearly knocking his opponent to the ground? Why does your throat go dry when he delivers punch after punch, eyes blazed with fury as blood begins running down the other man’s nose? Why do you stay rooted in place when the announcer declares Johnny’s victory, raising his arm high as the crowd cheers?

Then, he sees you.

His eyes lock with yours across the room, his victorious expression falling and shifting into something more grim.

That’s when you run. You sprint up the stairs and out of the bar, legs aching before you finally make it back to your apartment, shutting the front door and sliding your back down until you hit the floor.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

—

“Thank you all for joining us. This engagement is long overdue, and I’m grateful to Miyeon for sticking by my side even though I never deserved it,” your brother says, which causes Miyeon to bump his hip with hers jokingly. Guests chuckle at the small show of affection. “Please enjoy yourselves tonight and look forward to a Jeong wedding in the new year!”

Applause ensues, jilting you out of your reverie. You slowly clap with everyone else, trying your best to put on a smile.

You’ve been on edge since you walked into this party, and it’s all because of your idiotic actions from the night before. You contemplated showing up after being caught in the act at Johnny’s secret fight, but you knew it would be obvious if you missed your brother’s engagement party. Even though Johnny was here, you were determined to attend, albeit you having to avoid him like the plague.

In all fairness, you were succeeding thus far. You keep yourself on the opposite end of the room from him, never sparing a glance in his direction although you could feel his eyes on you during sporadic times in the night. Your plan is to leave at a time that wouldn’t raise any questions and go into work tomorrow and pretend you were never at the club that night. You hope Johnny would do the same.

For the sake of your job, you really really hope he would do the same.

You’re in the middle of assessing the charcuterie board, eyeing the various fancy cheeses. It’s just like Jaehyun to make this small party as extravagant as he could, knowing it would make no dent in his bank account. All the food is being carried around by various waiters walking around the floor to offer it to the guests.

“Having trouble making a choice?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You slowly spin around to see Johnny behind you, one hand stuffed into his pocket while the other holds a flute of champagne. He’s wearing a more casual manner of dress, a silk burgundy button-up paired with baggy slacks. It makes his legs look longer and you swallow as he towers over you.

“S-Sir-“

“Johnny!” You’ve never been more grateful to your brother than at this moment. He approaches the both of you with a smile, clapping a hand over Johnny’s shoulder. “How’s my little sister doing as your assistant?”

Your hands twist around your back nervously. Johnny slips into a smooth, easygoing smile.

“She’s doing fantastic. I was actually coming over to tell her just that, especially since she’s the one carrying all of my secrets to the grave.”

Your heart thumps louder in your chest while Jaehyun laughs, taking Johnny’s statement as a joke even though you know better. Johnny’s eyes analyze you carefully, the dark halo in his orbs making you quake in your heels.

“And how about you, dear sister? How’s the scary boss holding up?”

You throw your brother a tight grin. “He’s wonderful, Jae. No complaints here.”

Jaehyun nods, pleased by your progress before excusing himself to mingle. He leaves you alone with Johnny, who stares at you like a predator assessing his prey. You’re about to bring up a comment about the weather before he says, “Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be lurking on the wrong side of town.”

A shiver shoots down your spine. “I-I live on that side of town.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t pay you enough then.”

You exhale, certain he can hear the loud ringing of your heartbeat in your ears. He sets his champagne glass down on a nearby table before grabbing a bite-sized quiche, holding it out to you.

“I’m okay,” you decline and he hums, placing the treat in his mouth for himself. You can’t help the way your eyes linger on how his fingers graze his tongue, licking off any spare crumbs. You think about how those same fingers were pummeling into a poor stranger the night before. How the fire in his eyes couldn’t be tamed by the outcry of his fans.

You picture the same angry Destroyer hovering over you in bed, telling you exactly what he plans to do to you while his fingers wrap around your throat.

His mouth twists into a smirk and you shake yourself out of your daydream. He flags over another man and they shake hands, laughing as they exchange greetings.

“This is my assistant,” Johnny says, turning his attention to you as he offers your name. “She has big aspirations to work for a publishing company after she gets tired of me. Maybe Ahn Books has an opening?”

Mr. Ahn shakes your hand, telling you how lovely it is to meet you, but your eyes can only focus on Johnny. He’s staring at you with a knowing look in his eye and it takes you by surprise.

Was this a bribe to keep quiet about what you saw?

“Any worker who can handle Johnny is certainly a star in my books,” Mr. Ahn chuckles. “Let me know when this one starts getting on your nerves.”

You laugh anxiously and nod. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Ahn.”

Johnny gives you one last look. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He doesn’t provide an opportunity for you to respond, throwing an arm around Mr. Ahn and guiding him away into the crowd.

You release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

—

Johnny wants to fuck his assistant.

It’s plain and simple, but it’s very much against his wishes. When Jaehyun approached him with the ask to hire his sister, he didn’t hesitate to grant his friend the favor. He had known Jaehyun since they worked at their first company together out of college, and although Johnny had never met you, he figured you would be a good worker if Jaehyun vouched for you. Plus, his last assistant had just quit from being too “overworked.” Johnny thinks they weren’t trying hard enough.

You were pretty, way too pretty to be somebody’s assistant. You deserved to be the main attraction and Johnny is ashamed to admit he’s definitely salivated over the tight pencil skirts you’re always wearing around the office.

He convinces himself to put aside his own selfish desires considering you’re one of the best assistants he’s had in years. You’re incredibly organized and after he warns you once concerning something important, you ensure not to do it again. The only big thing that irritates him is how everyone in this office is clear about their desire to fuck you but you’re wildly oblivious to all of it. Do you really think Kim Doyoung comes to talk to you because he’s friendly?

It fuels him with jealousy and he’s not normally a jealous guy. And Christ, when he saw you in the crowd of his fight, blinking at him warily like a deer caught in the headlights, his heart stopped in his chest. He never intended on letting anyone know of his after-work activity, considering it was inappropriate for a man of his status to be engaged in such a violent act.

When Johnny first got into underground fighting, he had simply been a watcher. He was introduced to the scene by an old colleague and it intrigued him to observe random strangers beat the living shit out of each other for pure sport. He had practiced boxing growing up and the idea of finally discovering a place where he could put those skills to use drew him in. Most of the time, it gave him a spike of adrenaline when he won a match. It normally never gave him gratification to send his opponent home covered in blood, but he kept going because of the reputation he was building for himself.

And seeing you there, watching him win another match and once again being declared undefeated, it makes him feel... proud. Almost like he craves to prove himself to you, to demonstrate that he’s the kind of man that can take care of you.

He’s crossing a clear boundary line but his impulse to have you is overtaking the coherent part of his brain.

So when you walk in on Monday morning and squeak out a “Good morning, sir,” he swallows the need to bend you over his desk.

He greets you with a gruff “Good morning,” which has your eyebrows raising at the response. He normally ignores your attempts at chitchat, especially when it’s this early.

“I texted your schedule to you for today and I have your morning reports here,” you say as you slide over a stack of papers to him. “Can I get you anything else?”

You. Under the desk. On the desk. In the chair. Against the window.

“No, that will be all.”

You move to exit the room, pausing when your hand rests on the handle of the door.

“I-I just want you to know I haven’t told anyone about what I saw this weekend,” you murmur.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies frankly.

It’s true — he thought about it after leaving the nightclub on Saturday, and he wouldn’t be opposed if you went and told the rest of the work staff. Some sick part of him would actually be smug at the idea of you bragging about his wins to the other employees who so clearly want a taste of you.

“Oh,” you say, slightly startled. “Well, I still won’t tell. It’s your private business, after all. I shouldn’t have even been there in the first place.”

The nagging voice in the back of his head grows louder, desperate to learn what you think of him. “Did you hear what they were saying? How they were betting on The Destroyer?”

You squirm in your spot. “They said you were undefeated, that the newbie didn’t stand a chance.”

He wonders if you’re scared of him, frightened not only by his savage blows but his evident power over you. You must think that he intends to blackmail you to keep his secret, but he could care less what you choose to do.

All he wants is for you to feel the same way he does. He wants you to battle this warmth in your chest, to panic as your mind goes blank when you see him. And he can’t have any of that while you’re his assistant, working under him despite how much he would prefer you directly underneath him.

It’s why he introduced you to Mr. Ahn, an old family friend who owned one of the largest publishing companies in the country. Jaehyun mentioned to Johnny that your real passion was in writing, but the lack of funds drove you to your current spot. Johnny hates that your dreams were crushed because of something as trivial as money, which he carried an abundance of. He would fund your first book in a heartbeat if you asked, but he knows you well enough to understand your pride would never allow you to be indebted to him. He figures a job with Mr. Ahn would be more digestible for you, and it would provide him an opening to make his move.

“Do you ever get worried?” You ask him, chewing on your lower lip. “You could get seriously hurt fighting like that.”

An ache blooms in his chest. Do you care about him getting injured?

“I haven’t been hurt since I started fighting,” he shares with you. “I don’t give them a chance to get their hands anywhere near me.”

You swallow and he wrings his hands together under his desk. Does that turn you on? His office walls aren’t soundproof, but he could lock the door and throw a hand over your mouth to conceal your moans. His cock twitches in his trousers at the thought.

His fantasy shatters when you finally crack open the door.

“I’ll order a sandwich from the Kim’s for your lunch today, sir.”

“Why don’t you make it two and join me?”

You stutter. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Join me for lunch. I could use another pair of eyes on these awful spreadsheets.”

“O-Okay.”

—

Johnny is playing with fire.

He’s very aware of this, yet he can’t seem to stop himself. You’ve eaten lunch together everyday for the past two weeks, munching quietly in his office while he divulges his reasoning to you behind budget cuts and expansion decisions. In the beginning, you would nod and listen patiently. After his encouragement to speak up and voice your opinion, you slowly started coming out of your shell around him.

And he’s very well informed of what the office thinks about your private time together. Last week, he overhears Doyoung mumble to you, “You and the boss are getting close.”

A grin stretches from ear to ear on his face when he listens to your response.

“Oh, I guess we have. He’s been really sweet with me.”

An envious scoff from Doyoung is enough to make Johnny’s entire day.

Late that Friday, you both stay overtime in order to complete the documents required for the Baek acquisition that Johnny has to present to the board of directors on Monday. He insists that you finish your tasks in his office to be more efficient, although the real reason is that he wants to look at your legs while you work.

He watches as you roll your neck, humming when you finally hear the familiar snapping sound.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Johnny sighs, tired of staring at you for hours without being able to discover what’s hidden beneath that skirt of yours.

You frown. “But we’re only on the seventh page.”

“I’m starting to think you enjoy this work more than I do,” he says with a smirk.

You look down bashfully, avoiding his gaze. “I just don’t think you’ll be ready by Monday if we call it quits.”

“Let me worry about that, hm? I’ll drive you home.”

Your head whips up. “Oh, sir, I couldn’t let you-“

“I want to,” he says firmly.

You smile softly and nod. The two of you pack up the rest of your things, with Johnny storing the paperwork in his briefcase to review for later. He escorts you down to the parking garage and you pile into his vehicle. He observes as you admire the sleek interior, and he’s conscious of the fact that the cost of this car could likely pay your rent for five years. He really does want to offer you a raise to get you into a better apartment in a more decent side of town, but he’s certain you would interpret the gesture as a bribe rather than an act of kindness.

As the vehicle merges onto the busy city road, you pipe up from the passenger seat.

“Are you fighting this weekend?”

The question startles him. You haven’t spoken about his fighting since the moment you told him you would keep his secret.

“Every Saturday,” he replies, sneaking a quick glance over at you.

You have a nervous expression painted on your face. He opens his mouth to ask why before you speak up again.

“Will you be careful?”

The car halts at a red light, and he uses the spare time to fully look at you. You stare back at him, your eyes filled with concern.

It’s completely inappropriate and out of line, but his hand reaches over the dashboard to grab yours. He raises the back of your palm to his mouth, lips brushing over your knuckles. The intimate gesture has you staggering your breath.

“I promise.”

Your words rattle around in his head the following day. He usually doesn’t need any words of encouragement before a fight, his music playlist being enough to boost his spirits. This time, however, he thinks about you tucked away in his car. He pictures your pretty face when he kissed your hand, how your eyes darted away from his in embarrassment.

You’re the reason why he walks into the crowd with a mission, clapping his hands together as he faces his mediocre opponent. When the bell rings, he doesn’t pull his punches as he strikes the first jab into the other man’s face. You’ve awakened something in him and the crowd’s cheers grow louder when he lands blow after blow. It isn’t long before his challenger is stumbling across the floor, falling on his back after Johnny delivers the final thwack against his abdomen.

A hand wraps around his arm and holds it high in the air. The announcer declares his victory, once again proclaiming him undefeated. The roars of the crowd fill his eardrums, but the only person he can think about is you.

His body moves before his mind can convince him otherwise, getting dressed and gathering his things as quickly as possible before exiting the nightclub. He nearly breaks into a sprint in the chilly night air, reaching your apartment within minutes.

When you open the door, your jaw drops open at the sight of him.

“Johnny-“

His hands cup your cheeks, pushing your body backwards until you hit the wall. His nose brushes against yours and your breath hitches, hands reaching up to curl around his wrists.

“Tell me I should stop,” he whispers against your lips. “Tell me I’m crossing a line and I need to walk out that door and never come back.”

He watches your chest rise and fall with each passing breath. Your expression crumbles before you press forward, locking your lips with his.

A frenzy ensues. He shuts the door to your apartment forcefully, almost rattling it off of its hinges. His tongue slips into your waiting mouth, fingers gripping your waist tightly. You’re whimpering against him, basking in the sweat and tanned muscles from his win.

“Sir-“

“Fuck,” he hisses, pushing his body against yours. You whine when you can feel his hardened member against the fabric of your shorts. “Do you know how much it turns me on whenever you call me that? Always parading around in these fucking tight skirts, calling me sir — you’re practically begging me to stretch you open.”

You pant. “I want you to. I really really want you to.”

You both clumsily move to undress the other, with Johnny’s fingers pulling down your shorts and your hands lifting up his shirt. There’s a little dried blood on his torso as evidence from the fight.

“Sorry, I didn’t shower before I came and-“

“Did you win?”

A pause. “Of course I won.”

Then your lips are on his, tongues swirling together. The kiss is sloppy with the two of you mouthing at one another, desperate to grasp at any physical contact you can. You squeak in surprise when Johnny lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before pinning you against the wall.

He trails kisses down your neck, ripping your old university t-shirt in half and discarding it on the floor. Your sports bra follows after, and he gives you no time to complain before he takes your right nipple into his mouth, licking wildly. He shifts his attention between each breast, fingers flicking at the peaked bud if he neglects one for too long.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, whimpering softly.

“S-Sir-“

“Need me inside you?” He murmurs against your skin. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Please,” you beg, tugging at the strands of his silky brown locks. “I need you so badly.”

He’s quick to release his cock from the confines of his shorts, tip red and leaking. You whine when you see the evidence of his arousal. Johnny knows he’s bigger than most so he moves your panties to the side and runs a finger through your folds. He groans when he feels you practically dripping onto his palm.

“You really do need me badly, hm?” He remarks with a smug grin. “Tell me what’s gotten you so wet, baby.”

“Y-You,” you choke out. “Ever since I saw you fighting as The Destroyer, I-“

Your words are cut off by a piercing scream when the tip of his cock slides into you. He takes your arms and wraps them around his neck, stabilizing you as he cups his hands around your ass, rutting up into you. He can tell you’re marveling at his strength — his ability to lift you like you weigh nothing. He holds you close as his hips piston deep into your cunt.

“Look at what you do to me,” he bites in a venomous tone. “I can’t think properly when I’m around you. Want to bend you over my desk and let the whole office hear you sing for me.” Another sharp thrust has you tightening your hold around his neck, and he takes the opportunity to dangle your legs over his elbows. The angle fully allows him to fuck you perfectly, balancing you in his arms as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your weeping pussy. All you can do is hang onto him for dear life and take it. “Maybe I should invite Doyoung to come watch us. He’s always fucking chasing after you anyways.”

You unravel around him at a breakneck speed, pushed over the edge by the idea of him claiming you for all of your co-workers to see. He grunts when he feels you clench around him, offering a few more thrusts before he’s following suit. You whimper when he releases inside of you, painting your walls with his cum.

He finally sets you back down on the ground carefully, chuckling when your shaky legs cause you to stumble into him.

“Shut up,” you mumble bashfully, hitting his arm.

He kisses you again, hands resting on your lower back. “Do you think you’d be up for another round?” He whispers, eyeing his cum running down your thighs.

“I think you’re crazy,” you reply, which brings forward another bubble of laughter from him. You draw circles over his arm, admiring the swell of his muscles. Your voice shifts into something softer and lighter. “What are we going to do?”

He brushes his lips over your forehead. “I’ll figure it out. Just let me take care of you, hm?”

You giggle when he scoops you into his arms and carries you into the bedroom bridal style, preparing himself to make you moan for him all night.

—

Weeks after your passionate night with Johnny, you reach out to Mr. Ahn to see if there’s an opening at Ahn Books.

He offers a position as a junior editor and you accept it happily, eager to finally begin your career in the writing world. When you announce your departure from Johnny’s company, you’re surprised by the outpour of love you receive. All of the colleagues you spent a fun night out with bring you various flowers and stuffed animals, requesting for you to stay in touch. Johnny isn’t shocked in the slightest, huffing to himself as he tells you that they’re all in love with you. You simply roll your eyes at his jealousy.

At first, you kept your relationship with Johnny a secret in fear that people would assume you slept your way to the top. It proved extremely difficult to keep your boyfriend’s hands off of you, however. He ached to be near you at all times of the day, and you’re ashamed to admit your last two weeks in the office were mainly spent on your knees or bent over his desk.

“Ungh!”

A hand pushes on your lower back, arching your spine. Fingers tangle in your hair and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“What do you expect me to do now, hm? How am I supposed to get my fill of this pussy everyday when it’s across town?”

A smack echoes throughout the room when his hand collides with your ass and you bite down on your palm to prevent the mewls from releasing. No matter how many times you warn Johnny that the staff outside could definitely hear you two, he never holds himself back. There could be articles written the next day about the CEO fucking employees in his office and he wouldn’t bat an eye. His only focus is you, how you feel around him, how fast he can get you to whine for him.

One particular push of his hips has you reeling, gasping as you clench around him. He groans when he feels your climax hit, sending him tumbling over the edge before his warm seed fills you.

“Johnny,” you scold, reaching back to hit him lightly. “You know I stopped taking my birth control.”

“I’m aware, baby. Why do you think we’re moving in together?”

You scoff. You were initially opposed to the idea, but Johnny somehow convinced you that it would be much easier for you to move into his million dollar house and let him drive you to work every morning. There were no downsides to his proposal, truth be told, but you didn’t want to make it seem like you were using him for his bank account. He asked if he could fuck your throat to call it even, and you agreed.

He sits back down in his chair, pulling you onto his lap. Various papers and pens are scattered across the floor from the aftermath of your intimacy.

“It’s going to be a really good thing for you that I’m leaving,” you say, massaging the back of his neck as he licks at your collarbone. His cock is still seated deep inside you. “You haven’t been productive at work in weeks.”

“It’s the job for the next assistant,” he says dismissively. “Let’s go out tonight in celebration?”

“Okay,” you hum in contentment. “I really do want to thank you, you know. I was about to hit rock bottom before I started working for you.”

“No need to thank me, baby. I would do anything for you. As long as you keep supporting The Destroyer, I’m happy.”

You frown. “I’ll only keep supporting you if you remain undefeated. I’d hate to see you seriously injured.”

He laughs at the idea, as if the thought of anyone taking his championship title is unbelievable. He squeezes your hips and slowly begins to rock you back and forth on his cock, and you whine when you realize he’s growing hard again.

“Don’t be silly. No one has a chance against me.”

“D-Do you think we need to tell Jaehyun about us?”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s the job for the next assistant.”

Then he throws you over his desk once more, grunting as he claims your body until the sun sets over the horizon.

this fic was posted for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

#nct smut #nct x reader #johnny #johnny smut

772 notes · View notes

celaenaeiln · 10 months

Text

Dick Grayson's talent for manipulation literally brings the world to its knees.

Part 1 post

My absolute favorite trait about Dick aside from his craziness is his ability to control every single person in existence. The best part is, he's so clever in the way that he does it that people almost never notice.

Bart Allen

"Oh! Ahh..you're trying to get my DNA sample. You need my spit! Ha! That's such a Dick Grayson thing to do."

Bart knows!! Dick's brilliantly sly okay. Honey catches more flies that vinegar? He takes it so far that breaks he the ceiling with it because by the time he's done, people don't even know they've been manipulated. And if they do, then what can they do about it? He always wins.

With friends and family he does it to make them feel better without being so overt and discomforting them.

Justice League: Road to Dark Crisis

Jon came to him when he was feeling lost and upset and Dick set up the perfect conditions to encourage him and pick him up. He's just so good at doing what he's doing but he does it for all the right reasons.

But the extent Dick can go trick and manipulate someone is off the charts. A virtuoso.

In a Titans comic, Dick literally spent MONTHS acting depressed and weak after Donna, Wally, and Garth were kidnapped to another dimension by a villain just so he could trick the villain into thinking that his career was over and bring him into the same dimension so Dick could take him down.

He fooled everyone.

Teen Titans: The Silver Age TBP 2 Part #1

"Batman taught me how to be a totally convincing actor! So if the only way you could send me here with your ring was if I filled my brain with evil thoughts, I just faked it! My facial expression was pure evil-but my mind remained pure good." MONTHS.

He planned, pretended, and calculated every single fiber of his own mind and body until the whole world was fooled by his acting. He tricked an interdimensional being who had psychic access. That means he was so extraordinarily manipulative, he can control his own thoughts inside his head to trick someone else. Voldemort's legilimens has nothing on Dick's talent.

Like Bart, sometimes his allies are aware of this like with Selina-

Gotham City Sirens Issue #23

Selina's literally having a mental breakdown trying not to fall for Dick's manipulation and tricks.

But even if they know he's manipulating them, they still are forced to fall for it anyway.

Gotham City Sirens Issue #23

"Damn it."

Like a goldilocks mad scientist - he does it just right.

His acting is just so on point that he outschemes the schemer.

When the Crime Syndicate (Superwoman, Ultraman, Owlman, Power ring, etc) arrive on Earth to take it over when Dick is Batman, Dick needs to do something fast. But to make things worse, there's a being that's so powerful, that both the Crime Syndicate and Justice League combined have a snowball's chance in hell of defeating him.

So what does Dick do? He runs the game.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

"Of course he had a plan the whole time. He's Batman. He always has a plan."

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

He tricks everyone.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

And in the end, the Justice League wins and Dick saves the world.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

I love how they characterized Owlman as a snake because that would make Dick a mongoose since mongoose eats snakes. And do you know what Mongoose represent in folklore? Action, adventure, boldness, fearlessness, impulsiveness, independence, optimism, rebellion, resistance, resourcefulness, speed, adaptation, agility, quickness, intelligence and wit. All characteristics that define him.

He plays the world like a chessboard, always five steps ahead.

He always has an ace hidden up his sleeve.

His thoughts are always masked behind a disarming smile.

He has mastered the art of manipulation.

And that's while he's outright fighting. His subtlety is just so seductive.

Take a look at the way he smoothly evades answering in this panel -

Grayson Issue #9

He's so smooth. She's constantly on the watch but she instantly fell head over heels for his charms in a half a heartbeat, that's just how good he is.

Grayson Issue #10

He's a master manipulator who knows exactly what to say and how to act to always end up winning.

It's seriously such a shame that one of his greatest skills and talents isn't talked about more because this man?! Flawless.

He's the spy everyone on TV wishes they could be. He's the type of spy people read about in history books and marvel at the ease, grace, and legendary story he leaves behind. He's the spy that everyone knows and dreams of in their fantasies.

Nightwing (2016)

And oh how they so are.

He can just get people to do whatever he wants.

There's a reason why Batman's only contingency plan against Nightwing is "Let's hope he fucks up." Because with his intelligence, skill, power, charisma, and raw talent - he's goddamn unstoppable.

#manipulative dick grayson #dick's honest to god terrifying for what he can do #so thankful he's on the good side because the world doesn't stand a chance with him on the bad #dick grayson #nightwing #bart allen #dc impulse #jon kent #super boy #selina kyle #catwoman #dc titans #owlman #robin dick grayson #crime syndicate #justice league #spyral #batman dick grayson

2K notes · View notes

titaswrld · 2 months

Note

I have a request for a deadpool fic, if you could make a very angsty story where deadpool thinks he is undeserving of love and never thinks someone in this world would fall for him 😭 he is self-conscious about his looks and never in his right mind it crossed him that he has a chance with the reader, but he would do anything just to feel loved. he's just a constantly depressed ball of sadness, and the only way he copes with his thoughts is his dark humor. while the reader is head over heels for that man, and she's showering him in love, but he only thinks it's because they're friends 😭🫶🏼

monster

description: wade wilson being insecure about his looks, not knowing if the girl he loves would ever love him back.

paring: wade wilson x reader!

contains: angst! with happy ending (i didn’t know how to end it😭)

w.c: 1.2k

|an: finally writing forreals again! i needed to get back into it. thank u for ur request, i hope u like it😇 reader is a baker bc i couldn’t think of a more wholesome career path😭

you’ve known your best friend, wade wilson, for almost a year now. starting off as just occasional friends, hanging out at each other's apartments, watching chick flicks, and eating your weight in junk food until your friendship grew into something deeper, feeling nothing but love and admiration for another and the desire to be something more.

he’s so in love with you; he knows that now. he tried to deny it; he tried telling himself there’s no way, there’s absolutely no way a woman as intelligent, as confident, and as kind as you could ever love a monster like him. He knew you deserved better—a handsome, young, intelligent accountant or something.

his field of work is dangerous; he knows that. killing random people he doesn’t even know for cash. large sums of cash, sure. but, nonetheless, killing. he honestly always found it humorous, a trained marksman, mercenary, and vigilante , with his super cool awesome, still in school to become a pâtissière best friend!

he knew you’d leave; he knew no human being on planet earth could bear even looking at his rough, bumpy skin. that’s why he’s yet to show you his face, never failing to wear his mask around you, even though you’ve known each other for so long now. he didn’t know why you were still around after all this time even with the mask on, he knew most people found him to be annoying, aggravating, and just an all around piece of shit person, but for some reason, you liked him, and you enjoyed being around him.

he’s never had someone so close to him, as you are with him. you’re so kind, so affectionate, and so touchy. he thinks it’s just pity, you’d never think of him as anything more than a friend.

he dreamt of being the man who loved you the rest of your life; he wished that he could fall asleep and wake up to your face every day, make you laugh every day, eat every meal with you, watch every movie and every show, spend every holiday together, fuck, even start a family. he craved you. he craved your love, your care, and your kindness; he wanted to be normal with you, but he’s not normal, far from it. he knew better than that. he knew he didn’t deserve that. he would never be the man that you love.

he’s not ready to let you go, but he can’t keep his feelings for you inside any longer. he honestly dug himself into an even deeper hole, choosing to come over almost every free night he had. he couldn’t stay away from you; he hated being away from you. during every mission and every fight, all he thought about was coming home to you. you’re the only person who truly understood him for the man that he is, and he loves you for that. he’s never opened up to anybody the way that he’d opened up to you. you were special, so special to him. he was terrified.

you felt hopeless, stupid, and desperate. every advance you made, you’d failed. from baking him his favorite treats, to holding his hand while you watched a movie on the couch, to giving him hugs that lasted a little longer than necessary after a long mission, you couldn’t get your best friend out of your mind, not if you tried. hou crave him, his love, his care, his stupid fucking jokes that never end, his sarcastic nature, his sass—you don’t think you have ever loved a man the way that you love wade.

sometimes, he made you think that he might like you back, that he might have some sort of romantic interest in you, but it was quickly shut down after he made a joke, basically telling you that it would never happen.

you and wade were sitting on the couch, just talking, telling stories, and catching up after a particularly long time apart. until you had thought of a statement, that could’ve told you whether or not wade may or may not feel the same way.

your best friend, mia, had mistaken you and wade for a couple while on the phone. when you denied her statement, she apologized, saying she’s sorry for assuming, but you did spend all your time together..

when you told wade what she said, he doubled down in laughter before spitting out, “you? me? never. who is this friend? have i met her? has she seen me before? you might need to get her 5150’d.”

which did shatter your heart into a million pieces, but nonetheless, it wouldn’t stop you from trying to show him how much you care, how much you want to be with him, and how much you want to love him. he deserved love, and you wanted to give it to him.

each time he made a self-deprecating joke, it broke your heart. it was torture for you. the most he would ever do is lift his mask slightly when he ate with you, only to pop a piece of food in his mouth, then sheathe his face with his mask once again to chew, repeating the process until he’d finished. but even then, you never looked out of respect.

there were multiple occasions where you could’ve snuck a peek, where you could’ve turned around and saw his full face, but you knew how genuinely insecure he felt and how scared he was for you to see his face, so you never looked, not wanting to betray his trust or make him uncomfortable. you loved him, and you wish he understood that absolutely nothing could change that. especially not the way he looks.

today, you were sat on your couch, waiting for him to arrive. He said he’d be over tonight for the usual—rom-coms and junk food. but today, you felt different, your balls finally dropped, and you were ready to admit how you felt, whether it was a good or bad outcome, you were ready.

every single worst-case scenario clouded your thoughts, making your palms sweaty and causing a deep ache in your chest until you heard a knock at your door, saving you from plummeting even farther into your head.

you open the door, and time feels slow motion. you didn’t see deadpool; you saw wade for the first time- the real wade. standing there with an anxious expression plastered across his mottled face, snacks in one hand and flowers ripped from the dirt outside of your apartment complex in the other.

your stomach dropped along with your expression, the shock stunning you into place as you began to gather your thoughts. this is what he was hiding, you thought. jesus christ, all of that trouble for this? you could almost hit him.

wade, on the other hand, paced in your hallway, back and forth for 15 minutes before this, trying to decide whether he should just bail and leave the fucking country or finally stop being pussy and just show you his goddamn face.

after seeing your initial reaction, his head dropped, his gaze on the floor, as he muttered, “i know. total freak show, right? freddy kruger? craterface? cmon, lay it on me.”

now was your chance, as you cupped his face with your hands and pressed your soft lips against his dry, cracked ones. you felt his tense muscles drop and relax as he melted into the kiss, relishing in the feeling and making sure it was real, too.

you’d pulled away, looking him in the eyes and flashing a smile his way before placing kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin.

your gaze fell across his face once again, this time meeting you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“so— ten things i hate about you, or steel magnolias?”

#deadpool x you #deadpool x reader #deadpool #wade wilson #wade winston wilson #wade wilson x reader #deadpool angst #wade wilson angst #deadpool and wolverine #ryan reynolds

861 notes · View notes

rowenablade · 11 months

Text

Okay. I’m going to wait to do a second watch before I articulate most of my other feelings here, but I want to address one thing.

I’m seeing a lot of posts like, “I related to Izzy because I am also queer and older/disabled/depressed. By killing him off, the writers are saying that I deserve to die.”

Guys.

I’m not saying your feelings aren’t valid. I totally understand grieving a character that you relate to. But speaking as a writer, I just want to point out that trying to write with the shadow of “what is the absolute worst and most harmful way a reader can interpret this” will smother your ability to create. Twisting yourself in knots, trying to think up the worst-faith takes possible and scotch-guarding all your writing decisions against them is exhausting to the point of making you just not want to write anymore.

And we’ve seen the writers deliberately choose not to do this in Season 1. Remember all those terrible “Izzy is racist” takes that the writers and cast seemed completely blindsided by? That happened because the writers and directors and actors weren’t going over every scene with a fine tooth comb, ferreting out every shot or line of dialogue or micro expression that could possibly be interpreted as racist, and scrubbing it off. Because there comes a point where your story is what it needs to be, and you have to accept that some people will interpret it in ways you didn’t intend them to. And if you can’t accept that, you’ll never find the courage to put your work out there.

The point of diverse casts and writing teams isn’t to achieve a state of, “Nothing bad ever happens to a character from a marginalized demographic ever again.” It’s to achieve a status quo of these types of characters just being people in the world of the story. Not symbols, not representation boxes to tick, not tokens that you can point to so that you can say, “Here, we acknowledged this type of person exists, now where’s our woke points?”

OFMD is full of characters of color, queer characters, older characters, characters of differing body types. And in stories, things happen to characters. Some fall in love. Some make the same mistakes over and over. Some turn into birds. Some die.

Izzy’s character represents a lot of things, but he does not represent every older, disabled fan or fan who has struggled with suicide, any more than Jim represents all genderqueer fans, or Olu represents all black fans. That’s not how the writers were handling him. They were handling him like a character, because that’s what you have to do.

Again, I understand being sad. I am so, so fucking sad. But this idea of, “Any time something bad happens to a character I relate to means that the writer thinks I deserve these bad things to happen to me,” will poison everything you engage with eventually. Because stories are full of things happening to characters, and they won’t all be good things. And the more representation we get, the more often bad things will happen to characters we relate to.

But good things will happen too.

Queer couples get married. Disabled women run off with their favorite husbands. Middle-aged characters change careers. A multiracial polycule finds a home at sea. A fat man covered in tattoos stars in a drag show and all his friends cheer. All these things happened in the same show as Izzy’s death. This is what this world is.

Anyway. I know emotions are running high and I’ll probably get blocked or unfollowed by a few people for this. But I’m just trying to find my peace where I can, and if anyone else finds this useful, cheers.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands

2K notes · View notes

seospicybin · 2 months

Text

THE EQUATION.

Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (s)

Synopsis: Seungmin trusts nothing but numbers and dating you slightly changes that notion until Minho comes and mess the equation. (12,1k words)

Author's note: You guys have been asking for 2min content so here it is. Hope you like x

Unlike people, numbers don't lie. Politics, poetry, promises... those are lies but numbers, they are absolute, they are tangible and they will never lie or betray him. Numbers are what they are: the truth.

And that's why Kim Seungmin prefers to work with numbers, as an analyst at an investment trust company. His job includes analyzing bonds, stocks, and other financial instruments, studying the economic data and the financial markets, and recommending investments. He spends time predicting investment returns through various modeling techniques and assessing the risk of investments.

However, there's one thing in Seungmin's life that he couldn't predict with numbers and statistics, and that is you.

First of all, Seungmin is at the peak of his career, he likes his job and he enjoys what he's doing, in other words, he's living a fulfilling life his way.

Seungmin would rather use the time to bring in billions' worth of investments than waste it on something as frivolous as dating.

That was his initial thought until he met you one random afternoon at a cafe.

It's funny that the cafe is one that he regularly visits to get his morning coffee and somehow, he needed another cup of coffee after work, and of all the possibilities, you were the one taking his order even though you're the manager, not one of the baristas.

Seungmin is not one to believe in such things as fate or destiny but he has no other way to explain it, it feels like at that moment, the universe was trying to bring him and you together.

The next thing Seungmin knows, he's been dating you for six months now, and in those six months, he learned that dating seemed frivolous to him at that time because he hadn't met the right person yet. He also learns that not everything that is not tangible or absolute and not presented in data or statistics are lie.

There are three things that Seungmin believes are true: He likes you, he's happy with you and every day, he likes you more and more thus making him happier and happier.

Look at him now! Seungmin gets nervous knowing that he's late for dinner at your place, his foot tapping against the floor of the elevator as it takes him up to your floor.

The second the doors slide open, he walks as fast as he can while cradling the bottle of wine in his arm and carrying his briefcase in the other hand.

Despite knowing the code to your apartment, Seungmin prefers the doorbell. He holds all of his things in one arm to free his hand and presses the doorbell to alert you that he's here, then lets out a sigh.

It isn't much about the fact that he's nineteen minutes late, he's nervous about something else and the thought of it makes his hand fly to the back of his head, getting that weird feeling as he touches his hair that is now short.

The door swings open and your face lights up the moment your eyes lie on him.

"Baby!" You squeal in joy and jump at him, welcoming him with an enthusiastic hug and almost knocking his glasses off his nose.

With the things he carries in one arm, Seungmin can only hug you back as much as he can, and a while later, you pull away and open the door wider for him.

"I have to hurry and stir the sauce," you excuse yourself as you turn around and head straight back inside.

Seungmin doesn't get the chance to apologize for his tardiness, he lets himself in and takes his coat off, then carefully puts his briefcase down on the nearest chair.

He brings the bottle of wine with him as he joins you in the kitchen, "Bought us a bottle of wine."

You briefly glance at it and delightfully exclaim, "Red wine! That's perfect!"

Then you put your focus back on the sauce in the pan, stirring it with a wooden spatula in slow, circular motions, and once it bubbles up, you turn the stove off.

"Okay, now I can properly welcome my boyfriend home," you sweetly say as you approach him with open arms.

Seungmin hurriedly puts down the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter to keep it safe and also, to properly return your hug this time.

"Hi," you mutter with a smile as you put your hands around him and drop them on his shoulders, "I miss you."

It's something else that Seungmin can't find the logical explanation for it but when he's with you, the chemistry in his body drastically changes the second you enter his radar, he feels a surge of dopamine, he feels instant comfort and his body relaxed, and the moment both of your lips collide in an explosive kiss, his heart palpation.

All of a sudden, your lips stiffen against him and you slowly pull away, then bring your hand to the nape of his neck, tangling it in his short hair.

"Wait... did you cut your hair?" You ask with a sly smile on your face.

"Yeah, I did," Seungmin answers.

You take a moment to check his new haircut and at the same time, admire how it accentuates his already perfect facial features and how the dark of his hair adds intensity to his eyes.

"Do you like it?" He shyly asks.

You drop your hands around his neck and pull him close, "I love it," you reply.

Then you lean in for another kiss, harder and deeper while steering his body until his back meets the door of the fridge. You put your whole weight, putting your body against him until your bodies mold into each other.

When he's with you, his brain stops controlling his body and his heart takes over, making the chemistry in his body want only you and you and you.

And, oh, how good it feels that he gets what he wants and you're just for him and him only.

The beeping sounds coming from the oven interrupt the moment and you immediately pull away from the kiss to get to it.

"To be continued," you tell him with a sly smile.

Curls of steam escape the oven as you open it and the mouth-watering smell wafts around in the room, evoking his appetite. You put mitts on both hands and cautiously, take the tray out of the oven, revealing the perfectly roasted chicken.

Aware that you must put a lot of effort into making dinner, Seungmin knows that he, at least, should contribute to it apart from the bottle of wine he brought.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" He asks.

You take your oven mitts off and put them away, "You can open the bottle of wine and bring the glasses to the table."

Before doing what you order, Seungmin unbutton his cuffs and folds the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbow. He starts by opening the wine bottle and pulling the cork open with a loud popping sound. He then brings it to the table along with the two wine glasses he carries in one hand, he meticulously pours the wine and the aphrodisiac smell fills his nostrils as he takes a small sip at it.

The roasted chicken is just as delicious as it looked and the lemon dill sauce is just the perfect condiment, even better that the red wine complements the whole thing. It's such a simple yet heartwarming dinner, that Seungmin finds himself completely at ease and unknowingly lowering his guard down.

"...I think they miss their figures so I said let's increase by 15% because I was sure they'll strike gold with the new product line," Seungmin passionately shares a bit of his day at work.

"And I guess, you were right?" You ask before shoving a spoonful of food into your mouth.

"There was a line around the corner on the release date, I was right," he confirms with a small smile.

And when he's at ease like this, he can comfortably talk about almost anything with you and he's aware that it may bore you.

"Did I bore you?" He meekly asks.

"No," you hastily answer, placing your hand on his hand that rests on the table.

"You know I like it when you talk numbers," you add with a soft smile.

"This is really good, by the way," he says, averting the conversation to the food you cooked so incredibly.

"Glad you like it, baby," you say with a gentle squeeze on his hand.

There are no numbers or data that can tell Seungmin the reason why you like him, neither his look nor personality are that appealing and you are the opposite of that, you're beautiful and charming, you're so well-spoken, and now, you have proven that you're a good cook too.

Once again, he can't find the logical explanation to that but he's lucky to have met you.

Seungmin pours more wine into both of your glasses as you tidy up the kitchen after dinner, he sits on the sofa and waits for you to join him. You put on music through the portable speaker and the slow beat of the song softly plays in the background.

"Thank you," you say as you take the glass of wine from his hand.

The sofa fits three people but you opt to sit on Seungmin's lap, straddling him without spilling the wine in your hand. You take a small sip before putting it away on the coffee table.

"Thank you for the hearty dinner," he sincerely mutters his gratitude and he knows he has said it more than a dozen times already.

"If you're really thankful, where's my kiss then?"

Knowing that it would be a hassle, he takes his glasses off first and then puts his arms around you to draw you close. The hand that rests on the nape of your neck allows him to angle your head as he pleases and then slowly, he puts his lips on yours, conveying his gratitude through a kiss.

"Thank you," he murmurs when he breaks the kiss.

"You're very welcome," you reply.

You lay your hands on his shoulders and then glide them down his shoulder blade, feeling how broad and muscular they are. Then you bring your hands to the back of his hands, gently pulling at the short hair there.

"Did you sync your hair appointment with my menstrual cycle or something?"

Seungmin snorts at the random question, "No. Why?"

"Then why did you get a haircut when I'm ovulating, mmh?" You ask, purposely bumping your nose at his.

"No, that's not—" his words get cut off as you put a finger on his lips.

"Oh, stop playing dumb!" You tell him, putting your finger away so you can kiss him.

You kiss him hard until his head tilted to the back and he has no choice but to give in, letting your body pressed against him.

Seungmin gets light-headed from the kiss as he prioritizes kissing you back instead of breathing, and you know what? It's worth every second of it even though his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

Sensing that you both need a breather, you pull away from the kiss and slightly turn his head to the side to place kisses on his jaw.

"I think you should take responsibility for your actions," you whisper to him.

"I didn't do anything," he innocently says with a low chuckle.

His hand trails down your spine and stops on the arch of your back, his nails dug at your clothed skin as you plant searing kisses on his neck with your hot breath tickling his ear.

"I think you should put a baby in me," you softly whisper.

Not only the words secretly arousing him, it's also the way a sly smile blooms on your face after you say it, oh, he couldn't be more attracted to you!

"In this economy?" He asks with an eyebrow raised in disagreement.

"Yeah, you're right but..." You put your hands on his chest and put a space between your faces, "we can start by having unprotected sex."

He laughs at that and puts his hands on your thighs, "And risk to actually put a baby in you?"

You roll your eyes at him, sighing as your hands slump down his chest. With a deep breath, you try again in a way that intrigues him.

"If we're talking about the success rate of birth control, it's 99%," you begin your explanation.

"Yeah, but—"

You stop him from cutting you off by covering his mouth with your fingers, "Yeah, I know. I might have missed a pill or two but that only decreased the success rate to 93% which means..."

You put your hands around his neck and continue with your explanation, "There's only a 7% chance that you'll actually put a baby in me."

He glides his hands up to hold each side of your waist, "And that means 7 out of 100 pill users get actual babies in them."

"Yeah, but I'm part of the 93%," you confidently remark.

"Or you could be in the 7%," he argues.

"Uhh... I wouldn't be so sure. 7 has never been my lucky number anyway," you simply state, adding a nonchalant shrug at the end.

What you said is so out of pocket that it amuses him so much and he thinks that's why he likes you, you're unpredictable. In fact, you're the only unpredictable thing that he likes in his life.

"And maybe this will change your mind..." you say, untying your dress open and revealing enough to show the bra you're wearing underneath.

"How's that?" You adorably tilt your head to the side as you ask him.

Seungmin tries to remain calm even though he gets the urge to just rip your dress open and expose more of you to him. He looks away and stares at your face, but you're taking his hand and making him cupping your breast.

"I'm wearing it for you," you seductively say.

He's feeling the lacey fabric of your bra instead of kneading on your breast, "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh, and it comes with matching underwear too," you share, parting your dress open until it's completely off of you.

As of this moment, his self-control is being tested and he doesn't know how long until he folds. He holds his breath as his eyes travel down your body, quietly lusting at it.

You slowly bring your head close and sweetly peck his lips, "Do you like it?"

He rubs his hands up and down your sides, then looks up at you, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" You lean in closer until the tip of your nose bumps his cheek.

"I like it," he speaks so low it's almost like a whisper.

You smile at his answer and react more by pressing your lips on his lips. The more you kiss him, the more he doesn't want to let go, he just wants to keep kissing you until he runs all of the air in his body.

All of a sudden, you break the kiss with a gasp and slyly smile at him, "This is just one of my two-part plans," you tell him.

"What's the second part then?" He curiously asks with his fingertips lightly tracing your collarbone.

The sly grin on your face doesn't tell much but he knows it is something that will amuse him. You take his glasses on the coffee table and put them back on him.

"Keep your glasses on 'cause I want you to closely watch me take you in my mouth."

With his glasses on, Seungmin watches you take him into your mouth, how your luscious lips wrap around his length, and the way you swirl your slick, hot tongue around his tip. All the while, your hand takes care of the rest that you can't take into your mouth.

Don't get him started on the eyes you're giving him as half of his cock disappeared into your mouth, they're innocent and filthy at the same time, and he doesn't know how you do that but you're doing it so well.

He's sure that his hard cock shows how much he wants you and if not, well then, he just needs to take things further himself.

"Okay, fine, your two-part plan worked," he mutters with his hand tangled in your hair.

"I know," you cockily say to him.

He puts his other hand in your hair and then tilts your head to make you look at him, "Come sit on my lap!"

You obey him, pulling him out of your mouth and slowly, getting up from the carpeted floor. You take a step closer and he stops you right there.

"Just a second..." he says.

He looks up at you as you stand right in front of him, he trails his hands down the sides of your body and then tugs his fingers at the elastic band of your underwear. Without looking away from your eyes, he pulls it down your legs until it drops and pools around your ankle.

One corner of your mouth curls into a smirk as he puts his hand on the back of your knee and lifts it, resting your foot on his thigh. This position allows him to bring his mouth close to your heating core and a whimper falls out of your mouth the second his lips make contact with your tender flesh.

The glasses stay on because he knows how much you like seeing it turn foggy as he goes down on you. He doesn't need to look anyway to please you with his mouth.

He sticks his tongue out to tease your clit in a kitten lick before taking it whole in his mouth and sucking it real hard.

"Oh, baby..." you breathlessly moan as you tug at his hair in reaction to his stimulation.

Seungmin slowly lets go, he replaces his mouth with his hand, repeatedly running his fingers between your folds that your essence drenched all over them.

"Can't wait to be inside you," his voice hoarse and heavy with lust. He then retracts his hand, shoving his fingers coated with your essence, and licks them clean.

Seungmin scoots himself to the back of the sofa and then he holds his arms out at you to help you, but he lets his intrusive thoughts win, he pulls you hard until you fall on his lap.

You're giggling as you settle yourself on his lap and immediately put your hands around his shoulders, "eager, are we?"

He brings your head close for a kiss as you part his shirt open, and he briefly sits up straight so you can take it off of him. He wastes no time to put his arms around you after, drawing you close until there is no inch of gap left between your bodies.

To make it fair, he unclasps your bra and then pulls the straps down your shoulders, you do the rest by taking it off of you, letting it drop to the floor.

He likes how your breasts hang so beautifully on your chest and they look so soft, he can't help but feel them too. As he kneads on them, he can feel the ample flesh mold into his hands.

"Aren't they just perfect in your hands, mmh?" You murmur, kneading them together with his hands.

Yes, they do, he answers in his head and it makes him believe that your breasts were made just for him. He gently squeezes on them as he buries his head in between with his lips resting on your sternum.

You kiss the top of his head and cradle his head in your hands, your fingers lightly scratching the back of his head as you softly sigh, "My baby..."

Seungmin only knows how to dominate, always in control and being on top of the game but with you, he doesn't care about all that. With you, he just wants to be held and taken care of, and ultimately, loved.

Heaven really is a place on earth with you.

And he's about to enter real heaven when you slowly lower yourself on him. No rubber, no layer of protection just like you asked, it's just you and your warm velvety walls tightly wrapped around his length. Both of your lips instantly locked in a kiss again the moment he's fully buried inside you.

It's nothing like he imagined it would feel like, it's a thousand times better and when you start rocking your hips, Seungmin realizes that his self-control is going to be an issue.

As you keep pulsating your hips at a steady pace, you hold on to the back of the sofa for support and keep your face only inches away from his.

"Tell me, baby!" You murmur.

"Do I feel good, mmh?" You ask, then hastily kiss his open mouth.

You don't see him struggling, do you? Let alone able to compute words to answer your question but he hopes you can see how overwhelmed he is as you rock your hips back and forth.

"Cause you feel so good inside me, baby," you murmur into his ear.

"Oh, I can feel you all over me," you add with a hot kiss on his neck.

He roughly pulls your head close to press a kiss on your lips, grabbing a fistful of your hair in his hand as he keeps kissing you as a way to contain his grunts.

"You're close, mmh?" Your lips graze his as you speak.

There's no use to lie, he's inside you and you can feel him throbbing, wanting to shoot his load at any given time now.

"You're just too good," He simply admits, gliding his hands to your back and pulling you close.

"Are you going to cum for me then?"

"Yes," he shortly answers

"Inside me, yeah?"

He nods, pathetically.

Taking that as a confirmation, you pick up the pace, sending your breasts bouncing right in front of his face but his hands are too busy gripping each side of your waist, desperately trying to slow you down but failing.

"Mmh, yeah, cum for me, baby," you murmur before crashing your lips against him.

Surrendering himself to the need, Seungmin wraps his arms around you so tightly that your breasts are squashed between your chest. His eyes are screwed shut, his body is hot all over like someone kindle a fire inside him.

Despite his tight hold around you limiting your mobility, you maintain the pace, arching your back to provide more depth for him and add intensity to it.

"Cum, fill me, baby," you softly whisper with your lips brushing his jaw.

Seungmin is no longer in control of his body, his desire gets to him and takes him where he needs to be. The pleasure keeps on building up and up and he won't stop until he—

"Argh!" A raw groan spills out of his mouth, then he hurriedly plants his mouth on your shoulder to muffle it.

You finally slow down and hold him close, cradling his head in your chest as he relishes the waves of pleasure lapping over him.

As senses gradually come back to him, Seungmin tilts his head up and pulls you for a kiss, a kiss that feels tender and chaste, the kind that knocks your heart open.

"I love you," he blurts out.

"Oh?" You react with a perplexed gasp.

It surprises him too that he just blurted those words out, he didn't plan on saying it, heck! He didn't even think of saying it but now that the words are out, he knows that it's coming from deep within him.

"You didn't say that just because you're still inside me, right?" You playfully ask.

He innocently shakes his head but changes his mind in the next second, "Uhm... maybe? A part of it because of that," he jokingly says.

"I knew it!" You exclaim and squint your eyes at him.

He brings his hands to your shoulders and then cups your face in both hands, holding it with so much care as if you were a fragile object.

"I love you," he mutters with utmost sincerity and his heart hurts from saying those words out loud, in a good way.

"Me too," You smile and softly brush the hair curtaining his forehead, then place a soft kiss on it, "I love you."

His heart is full knowing that his feelings are being reciprocated and that makes him the happiest he's ever been, and the fact that it comes from something that is beyond him is what makes it special. He cups your jaw and kisses you so sweetly with a heart that loves you until it hurts so good.

"Seungmin," you softly call his name against his lips.

"Yes?"

"Can you put more love in me?"

"With pleasure," he gladly answers.

The music that faintly plays in the background is being replaced with the skin-slapping sounds and both of your breathy moans.

You're lying underneath him, hands gripping each side of the cushion your head resting on, eyes shut with a sheen of sweat coating your body.

"Oh, baby, yes," you moan through your gritted teeth.

Seungmin is using all of his strength, thrusting hard into you, and in each thrust, he tries to go as shallow as possible, hitting you right in the spot.

"Oh, please..." you cry and beg, sounding like you're in pain.

"Please, please, please," you beg again, but he knows that you're asking for more.

He's going impossibly fast that the sofa is creaking along to his movements but even if it breaks, he won't stop. He needs to give you your release and at the same time, he can't help himself but get the pleasure of giving it to you.

"Seungmin, please, please..." you beg again, your eyes closed so tightly that tears squeeze out of the corners of your eyes.

It's the way you're calling him so desperately and with so much neediness that drives him to keep going. He grips the handrest of the sofa as leverage and thrusts into you harder and harder that the muscles on his body are strained and his body is close to giving out.

"Seungmin, please..." you breathlessly moan again.

Yeah, that's right, he's the only one who can give it to you and he's going to give it to you just right.

A mix of a moan and a cry rips out of you as your body stiffens and then softens in the next second, overflowing with immense pleasure.

Seungmin slows his thrusting but adds intensity, he can feel it coming as well. With the way you're clenching around him, it doesn't take him long to finally cum for the second time.

He launches his cock as deep as possible to plant his seed inside you and lowers his mouth on yours to fill his need to be one with you.

It's the most intimate he's ever been with someone, it doesn't feel like physical fulfillment anymore, it's bonding, it's trust, and he believes it's what people call making love.

After a while, Seungmin lets go and slowly, pulls out of you. With your legs still spreading open, he can see how your cunt is drenched with your mixed bodily fluid and pulsating, and a while later, he can see the white of his seed dripping out of you and he can't believe how much he cum inside of you as it now drips onto the sofa. It's a highly erotic thing to watch and satisfies him in a whole new way.

"Are you sure you're not trying to put a baby in me 'cause that was..." you can barely finish your words. You brush away the hair stuck to your moist forehead and let out an exhausted sigh.

Seungmin quietly and triumphantly smiles, he hovers above you and places a long, lingering kiss on your lips. As soon as he breaks the kiss, he looks at you and says, "Well, 7 has never been my lucky number either."

Since his job requires him to work late almost every night, Seungmin only meets you on the weekends and he'll stay over, even if it means he has to go to work early on a Monday morning.

"Stay," you mumble with your eyes closed, not letting him stop cuddling you on the bed.

"You can sleep some more," he whispers into your ear, along with a soft kiss on your neck.

"No, stay," you mumble again, taking his arm and putting it around you.

It's always like this every Monday morning, you're not letting him go and he'll cave in, then he'll cuddle you for a few more minutes, peppering you with kisses before dragging himself out of the bed.

If he has to choose, he'd rather stay in bed with you all day but he has other responsibilities to do and it involves a lot of people, not just him.

When Seungmin returns from the shower, you're sitting on the bed with his glasses on, your eyes immediately traveling up and down his glistening wet body, but they focus on the towel that lowly hangs around his hips.

"Oh... mama!" You gasp in delight, your teeth faintly bite your lower lip.

Flustered, he hurriedly walks up to you and takes his glasses off of you, then puts them on him. He gives your cheek a soft caress and then kisses the top of your head.

"You should sleep some more," he suggests as he saunter to your closet where he keeps some of his clothes in there.

"Why would I do that when I can watch my hot, nerdy boyfriend getting dressed to save the nation's economy from collapsing?" You playfully remark, sitting on the bed while hugging your knees.

As he chooses what to wear for the day, he looks over his shoulder at you and asks, "Who's going to make coffee then?"

"Oh, yeah, right," you sigh and pout, "you only date me because of my coffee."

"That's right," he responds with a sly smile.

You get up from the bed and come up to him, slipping your arms under and around him for a hug. You place kisses on the skin on his chest, shoulder, and neck, and eventually, your lips find his.

"Wear the blue shirt," you suggest, pointing at the baby blue shirt inside the closet before turning around on your feet, and heading out of the room so he can get dressed.

The blue shirt surely looks good on him but he can't remember wearing it or bringing it to your place, also, it's a bit tight around the shoulders. He heads to the kitchen where you're busy making coffee for him.

"Are you sure this shirt is mine?" He asks in confusion.

"Of course, it's yours, you silly," you hastily answer and then put down the coffee pot to take a good look at him, "What's wrong?

Seungmin takes a seat on the stool that is pushed against the kitchen island, "It's a bit tight around the shoulders."

You deliver his cup of coffee and then run your hands through his shoulder blades, "That's because you have such sexy, broad shoulders," you whisper into his ear.

He turns his head to the side and you immediately capture his lips in a kiss. You break the kiss to place more kisses on his face and neck.

"Now, eat your breakfast, champion!" You order.

You stand there behind the kitchen island to watch him take his first sip of the coffee you make, and as expected, it's as good as the first time had a taste of it and it also brings back the memories of how he met you that night.

"How is it?"

"Perfect!" He answers with a smile.

It's never just a goodbye kiss with you, it's a full-on makeout with bodies pressed and pushed against the wall, its lips and tongue, and occasional bites in between.

Seungmin has to stop you from going in for another kiss as he still needs air to breathe. He holds you close but keeps his face a safe distance away from yours, his height helps with his.

"You have the night shift tonight," he says.

"Uh-huh."

"You better go get some sleep after this," he suggests.

"One more kiss then," you sweetly ask.

Seungmin has no power to resist you, especially when you look at him with crinkles in your eyes. It would make him a bad man if he said no to that.

"Just one," he makes a compromise.

"Just one, yes," you repeat with an eager nod.

He finds you so cute acting like a puppy like that, he has no other reason but to give you what you want. He slowly leans in and kisses you, ever so softly despite feeling like fireworks are going off inside his chest.

"I have to go," he says once he breaks the kiss.

You don't say anything but pout to him, clinging to him to let him know you don't want him to go.

"I'll see you soon, mmh?" He says with a smile and a long peck on the lips as a consolation.

That seems to cheer you up as a smile blooms on your face, you hug him close, embracing all of him before taking a step back so he can walk out of the door.

"Have a great day at work!" You say as you linger by the doorway and with a sweet smile, you let him go.

A couple of days later, Seungmin receives a call from you but it comes at a bad time, he's in a meeting and he ends up getting two missed calls from you.

You know better to not call him when he's working but it seems urgent so he goes to the office lounge to call you back.

"I'm late," you suddenly share right after you accept the call.

"Late?" He asks in confusion.

There is a pause and then you explain, "My period is late."

The moment you both decided to have unprotected sex, Seungmin prepared himself for a situation like this. He knows that other than he needs to take responsibility for it but checking in on your well-being comes on top of his priority.

"Are you okay?" He asks in slight concern.

"I'm okay," you answer.

"Do you want me to come and be with you?" He offers, even though he doubts he'll be able to do that but that's something he can deal with later.

"No, it's okay. I just..." you pause to inhale air, "I just think that you need to know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm about to take pregnancy tests," you inform.

"Okay, well, it's better if you take two tests just in case the result is inconclusive," he carefully suggests, keeping his voice low as he's still in his workplace.

"Yeah, okay," you take in his suggestion.

"Hey, it's going to be okay?" He assures you because he knows that's what you actually seek at this moment, an assurance that things are going to be alright no matter what.

"I know," you meekly say.

"I love you," he says because he has nothing else to show you how much he cares and loves you, and he can hear you smiling at the end of the line.

"I love you too," you say with a slight cheery tone.

The two of you let those words hang in the air and let that be the only thing that exists in this dire moment.

After a moment, you sigh into the phone and say, "Well, I'm going to pee on these pregnancy tests and will tell you about the results."

"I'll look forward to it," he playfully responds.

It's normal for him to feel nervous about the results but surprisingly, he doesn't feel scared at all. If anything, it makes him start thinking about his future with you, and if you turned out to be pregnant then it simply means he'd have another part of you that he can love.

That's all he can think about at work, not numbers or statistics, but how wonderful it would be to build a family with you.

As he's deep in his thoughts, his phone vibrates on his desk. He turns it over to check and fumbles on his seat when he notices that it's multiple new texts from you.

"Guess what?" You wrote on the first text, and below it a picture of the pregnancy tests and both showing negative results.

"Told you, seven has never been my lucky number," you wrote in the following text with a smiling emoji.

It's a good thing that you don't call or you would hear the slight disappointment in his voice, but at the same time, he feels a sort of relief. Well, this only means that Seungmin only needs to postpone his plan on building a family with you.

"That damn seven percent," he jokingly wrote in his reply to you.

As a sort of joke, Seungmin decided to get off work early, and bought flowers along with a card he personally wrote on it that says, "Congratulations on being in the 93%!"

He knows you're having night shift for the whole week so the plan is to catch you right on the closing time and surprise you with the flowers.

Seungmin is not big on grand, romantic gestures like this but it shouldn't be something he should be ashamed of doing. It's all about the intention and he believes that the thing earlier was quite a shock to you so his intention is purely to brighten up your day and hopefully, make you feel better.

The taxi pulls up at the side of the street across the cafe, he can see that he comes right on time as you're locking up the place. He has to walk a little further to the crosswalk while carrying the flowers in one hand. He's watching as you lock up the café and pulling at the door to make sure it's completely locked.

As you hoist the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder, you turn around on your feet and Seungmin hurriedly waves his hand your way even though it's doubtful that you'll see him.

However, your face lights up like you usually do whenever you see him, your eyes sparkle, and a radiant smile. His heart is pounding as he starts to eagerly wave his hand at you only to find out that you're looking at someone else.

A guy comes out of the car parked right outside the café and you walk up to him, not stopping him as he hugs you. It's not just a friendly hug, the guy holds you close and lifts you off the ground for a moment, sending you giggling with your head bumping close to him.

Seungmin unconsciously follows the crowd crossing the street and when he finally gets to the side of the street, he sees that the two of you are kissing, lips locked with arms around each other.

He takes slow, hesitant steps toward you to see if it's really you and you're aware that you're kissing someone that is not him. He stops on his track as the guy spins you to the side and you open your eyes to see him standing there.

In that moment, your eyes meet and the expression on your face significantly turns into a panic one. From the look of it, it finally registered to him that you're fully aware of what you're doing.

"What is this?" He asks in utter confusion at you.

You immediately push the guy you've just kissed to approach him, "Seungmin, I can explain!" You say.

There's nothing to explain when he saw everything with his own eyes, unless you think he's blind or losing his mind, that's the only explanation he needed.

You walk toward him in such caution like approaching a wild animal, "Seungmin, please, wait, I can—"

But he's no longer looking at you, he's looking at the other guy and how flippant he is at this whole situation. He's mad beyond belief and before he obliterates everything around him, he turns around on his feet to leave.

"Seungmin!" You call his name out loud and he can hear you break into tears after.

"Fuck this," He mutters out of spite, tossing the flowers into the trash bin. He ignores your desperate calls and keeps walking away, not looking back.

Men lie, women lie, and numbers, after all, can be manipulated which makes it a lie. In other words, everything is a lie.

Even Seungmin is lying to himself, he pretends that he's alright even though the truth is he's far from alright. He can't believe that a week ago he thought of building a family with someone he's only known for six months, six fucking months and you turned out to be cheating on him.

The only thing that he believes in is this anger he feels whenever he thinks of you and it's more infuriating that he can't find the outlet for it. It seems like he has to keep it in until he dies.

His phone vibrates on his desk and he hates that his heart gets hopeful, thinking that it's a text from you when the truth is you stopped contacting him two days ago and he knows it's because he didn't respond to any of them, but deep down, he hopes it's you.

Full of anticipation, he checks his phone and sees that he has received a series of texts from an unknown number. It's probably work-related texts so he ignores it for a while until the curiosity wins over him.

"So, you're the other boyfriend," is what is written in the text.

"Who is this?" He quickly replies.

"It's Minho. The boyfriend," he writes along with multiple pictures of you and him.

If his goal is to make him jealous, he's succeeded at that and now that the goal is achieved, what else there is?

"What do you want?" Seungmin gets defensive.

"Does this mean you give her up, huh?"

It's not giving you up when he decides to break up with you after finding out that you cheated on him. Before Seungmin can compose a reply to that, a new text appears.

"I'm the better man anyway," Minho writes and he knows he does it to provoke him.

What a shame that Seungmin is not triggered and decides not to stoop to his level. Minho is free to think that he gives you up or he's a better man than him, Seungmin doesn't care at all!

However, his ignorance only lasts for a couple of days until Minho comes up with a text that has one clear purpose and that is to light Seungmin's short fuse.

"Come and watch me fuck her better than you did?" Minho wrote on the text along with a video of you, lying naked on the bed with his hand going all over you.

As if that isn't enough, Minho sends another video and Seungmin knows better not to open it but he does anyway. The next video is of him filming himself fucking you through the mirror that he knows for sure is in your bedroom and he can hear your moans in the background.

"Did you say something?" Minho asks as he turns the camera to you.

"Please!" You say.

"Please, what?"

"Please, Minho, I want to cum," you plead with your eyes red and teary.

With the rage that blinds him and jealousy that burns him from the inside, Seungmin rides in the back of the taxi in the middle of the night with both hands balled into fists on his lap and his chest heaving in anger on the way to your place.

He skips on the knocking on the door and punches the passcode into your place, letting himself in. A while later, you come to the door, looking unruly but fully dressed, it looks like he's just disturbed your slumber instead of catching you sleeping with another guy.

"Seungmin," you say his name in a mix of confusion and surprise.

Seungmin would be lying if he didn't miss hearing you call his name but he reminds himself he's not here for that, he came here for something else.

"Where is he?" He asks as he walks past you. He starts looking for him in every room in your apartment while you're trailing behind him.

"Who?" You ask in utter confusion.

"Your boyfriend," he simply answers, pushing the door to your bedroom and seeing that no one is on the bed except for a messy pile of duvet.

"He's not here and I haven't seen him in a week," you tell him.

He avoids looking into your eyes and walks up to the bathroom, pushing the door open with his hand only to reveal that you're telling the truth.

"Why? Isn't he your boyfriend? Shouldn't you with him?" He asks you, going out of the bedroom to check the laundry room near the kitchen.

"Because I needed the space. I got heartbroken when you broke up with me," you meekly answer.

Maybe he was foolish for not knowing you lied behind his back but how dare you lie right to his face now? Seungmin stops looking and turns around to look at you, he scoffs in exaggeration.

"Don't lie to me," he says to you with a sarcastic smile.

"I'm not. I am still devastated that we broke up," you genuinely admit with tears pooling in your eyes.

Hearing someone enter the passcode to your door, you hurriedly wipe your eyes before the tears roll down your cheeks and head to the door to check who is it.

"Minho, what are you—" You can't barely finish your sentence as he presses a kiss on your lips.

"Minho, this is not a good time," you say to him, but he walks further inside while holding your hand.

Without having to look, Seungmin knows that it's the man he's looking for and he realizes Minho was never here, he sent all those videos just to trap him and he fell right into it.

"You came, huh?" Minho says to him with a faint smirk on his face.

That is enough to trigger Seungmin, he takes a step forward and closes the gap between their bodies, "What's your problem?"

You immediately get in between and push them away from each other until there's a safe distance between them, "Minho, please, don't!"

"I don't know why I'm here," Seungmin mutters, pushing his way in the direction of the door.

You block the way and take both of his hands, "No, Seungmin, please, stay!" You beg with pleading eyes.

"Nah, babe, just let him go!" Minho says with a rather mocking tone at Seungmin while leaning the side of his body against the wall.

"You both stay!" You tell both of them, dragging Seungmin back inside and making him sit on the sofa. You glare at Minho next, gesturing him to also sit on the sofa, and with a sigh, he obeys to your order.

They're sitting so far apart from each other and you know Minho is the one who made Seungmin come here, but the damage has been done, you may as well use this opportunity to talk to both of them.

"Now that you're both here, let me explain everything," you say, standing right in front of them.

"I don't need your explanation," Seungmin says without looking at you.

"Seungmin, please!" You beg again.

"The door is right there!" Minho casually says to him.

You know Minho is going to be the problem so you glare at him, "Minho, please?" You say in a rather threatening tone instead of pleading.

"I'm not going to stop you from leaving but please hear me first," you try again while clasping your hands together in front of you.

Seungmin refuses to look at you but he stays in his seat and that's enough, he only needs to hear your part of the story anyway.

"Yes, I'm dating the two of you at the same time," you admit right away and that seems to intrigue Seungmin that he glances your way.

"But I wouldn't call it cheating," you continue and Seungmin looks away again, "Even if that's the case, it only means that I'm cheating on Minho with you."

"What do you mean by that? You're dating him behind my back," Seungmin says with a lot of resentment in his voice.

"Minho knows everything," you reveal, "We've been dating for three years way before I met you."

"Yes, and she told me everything," Minho adds with a wicked smile on his face.

It feels as if the two of you are playing him and he feels stupid for being the joke in this narrative. Seungmin looks at you and then at Minho with a revolted look on his face, "What is this sick game are you playing here?"

You take a step closer to him and slightly bend down to make him look at you, "Seungmin, I swear this is not a game. Our relationship is real and so is my relationship with Minho, we're—"

This is where Seungmin loses it. He's not familiar with this equation. You're dating him but also dating Minho. How can one person date two people at once? And is that even possible? Since when 1+1+1 is two? His brain just can't comprehend it.

"You cheated on me," he says and that's the only statement he firmly stands on, he doesn't care who dates who first and how many relationships you have other than with him.

You take a moment to inhale air and try again, "Seungmin, trust me when I say I never lied to you. I love you and you know that's true," you calmly tell him.

"But you did lie to me about your relationship with him," Seungmin

"Because I don't want to lose you," you hastily respond with the harsh truth.

A moment passes in silence as Seungmin processes your words and you're right, he would have left you a long time ago and the relationship wouldn't last this long.

"I know this is hard to understand but I love you, Seungmin, and I love him too," you say as you point at Minho.

You rake your hair to the back and come up to them, kneeling in front of them as you grab their hands in each of your hands.

"And I know how selfish and greedy I sound but I want you both in my life," you finish with a sad smile.

Minho brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, "You know you'll always have me," he says.

You softly smile at him, "Thank you, Minho."

The ball is in Seungmin's court now and you look at him with hopeful eyes, even though the chance that he'll agree to this is slim, close to zero percent.

"Seungmin..." your voice lowers as a second passes without an answer from him.

All of a sudden, he takes his hand away from your hold and in that moment, you tell yourself that, at least, you've tried your best to make him stay and if he still chooses to go, then you have to let him go.

Seungmin's hand cups your cheek and he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. To your surprise, he smiles and then slowly presses a kiss on your lips.

"You know that I love you too."

Since they're all and they both agreed on being in this relationship, you figure this is the chance to put it to a test and see if they can learn how to share.

Minho places a kiss on your shoulder as his hands busy unclasping your bra, he places another kiss on your neck and turns your head to the side so he can kiss your lips.

"It's off," he mutters as the bra is completely off your arms.

You peck his lips and smile, "Thank you, baby."

Minho has no problem adjusting himself to this but Seungmin looks a little lost that you have to keep him close and at times, you have to actively tell him what to do.

As you sit on the edge of the bed, you take his hands and pull him close. Giving him a long peck on the lips before asking him, "Are you nervous?"

"I'm not nervous," Seungmin puts his hands on each side of your waist and places a peck on your lips, "I just wish he's not here."

You chuckle at that and put your hands on his square shoulders, "at first, I thought Minho would be the one having problems sharing," you poke fun at him.

"I can share," he hastily responds, he quietly clocking Minho who's getting undressed in one corner of the bedroom, "Just not with him."

"Can you please try? For me?" You sweetly plead, along with multiple kisses planted on his lips, "Mmh?"

Seungmin knows that he has no other option but to share you, he accepts it with a sigh, "Okay."

"Thank you, baby," you softly mutter, bringing his head close so you can kiss him hard and deep.

The kiss lasts for a few minutes and you eventually break the kiss, gasping for air the second your lips detached. You get on all fours on the bed and take his cock in your hand, slowly stroking it before taking it into your mouth.

You maintain eye contact with Seungmin as your mouth is full of him, alternating between sucking and licking, combining it with your hand pumping the base of his cock.

Seungmin gathers all of your hair to the back and forms a makeshift ponytail with his hand to keep all of your hair away so he can see his cock slipping in and out of you.

Behind you, you feel Minho's hand on the arch of your back and it's gliding down to the curve of your rear, he doesn't hesitate to knead the flesh until it molds into his hand.

Next, he replaces his hand with his mouth, sucking on the ample flesh of your ass cheek hard enough that you believe it would leave a mark.

Your focus starts to shatter as Minho plants his mouth on your heating core, he keeps your ass cheeks parted open so he can plant his mouth deeper in your wetness.

His slick tongue teases your entrance and at the same time, his hand snakes its way to the front to play with your clit, pinching for added stimulations.

You're moaning with Seungmin's cock in your mouth and somehow, the vibration adds pleasure to him as he hand tugs harder at your hair.

It goes on for long until you deem it's enough or else you'll get too overwhelmed to continue. You slowly pull Seungmin's cock out of your mouth, ignoring how your saliva coated his length and dribbling down your mouth. Minho catches you from the back, holding you as you sit on the bed and spread your legs open for Seungmin.

"Go ahead. You can have the first turn," Minho says to Seungmin, always in a tone that borderline mocking him.

You land a hard slap on Minho's arm, "Be good!" You warn him.

"Sorry, honey," Minho apologizes to you along with a kiss instead at him.

However, Seungmin does a good job of pretending like Minho wasn't there, he crawls over to you to place a kiss on your lips before settling himself between your legs. He rubs his fingers between your folds, softly as if he's touching flowers.

He's going to keep pretending like Minho wasn't there and fully enjoying this moment. It's not hard when your body always entices him, endlessly arousing him and inviting him to touch.

With another kiss on your lips, Seungmin slowly pushes inside. He pulls out only to push deeper into you and do it a few times more until he's fully sheathed in your tight walls.

"Mmh, yeah..." you moan with eyes closed, "So good inside me."

He lets himself explore your body with his hands then with his lips next, marking your skin with searing kisses to finally start thrusting into you.

Minho slowly lays you down but keeps his eyes and hands on you, touching you and cupping your breasts as they're jiggling along to Seungmin's slow yet steady thrusts.

He stands on the side of the bed facing you, pumping his cock as he's watching you being fucked by Seungmin, and eventually, brings his eyes back to you.

Using the tip of his cock, he rubs your erect nipples, wetting them with his precum and making you squeeze his cock between your breasts.

"Oh..." you loudly moan, taking every stimulation on every inch of your body from the two men.

The wild glints in his eyes scare you and excite you at once. You're tilting your head his way with your mouth wide open.

"You want it in your mouth?" He says as he pumps his cock so close to your face.

You bite your lips, nodding.

Instead of giving you what you want, he shoves his thumb into your mouth and watches as you suck hard on it before finally putting his cock into your mouth. He grabs the hair on the back of your head, keeping your head still as he drags his cock in and out of your mouth.

"You like that, huh?" Minho says as he looks down at you.

"You like having your greedy holes filled, huh?" He pulls out of you to give you a chance to answer.

"Yeah," you breathlessly answer with your lips wet with saliva.

"You hear that? She likes her greedy holes filled!" Minho says to Seungmin with a wicked grin plastered on his face.

Seungmin is too high on pleasure to care, having sex without protection is still new to him and he still needs a few practices to finally have some self-control doing it.

With your mouth full of Minho, your noises can no longer be his guide on pleasing you but he can tell from the way you're tightening around him. He needs a release as much as you do but he holds it in until he knows for sure you have climaxed.

Minho probably senses that you're so close, that he pulls out of you and offers his hands for you to hold on to. Your chest is heaving and moans are spilling out of your mouth.

"Seungmin, oh, please!"

There you go with your begging and pleading, and it's amazing that it still works on him, hearing you calling his name in such neediness gets him off.

When you finally reach your high, you pull your knees up as high as you can which provides him more depth and tightness that gets him closer to his release.

A few more thrusts are all it takes for Seungmin to reach his high. He keeps his cock deep inside you as he releases all of his seed. His hands are pressing on the back of your thighs with nails dug into the flesh.

Still gathering his senses, Seungmin searches for your lips and when they finally meet yours, he kisses you so hard that he runs out of the air in his lungs.

"So good, baby, that was so good," you mutter to him with half-shut eyes.

Seungmin climbs onto the bed, his back resting against the headboard while you're lying on your stomach in between his legs. You're both riding down your highs with some kisses and cuddles until Minho seeks your attention.

He pulls you by the waist, taking you away as you're about to lean in to kiss Seungmin. You laugh at his childish behavior and look over your shoulder at him.

"I'm not going anywhere," you jokingly mutter at him.

Minho holds you close and lets Seungmin watch as he runs his hands all over you as if he is trying to show him how to properly touch you.

He makes a trail of kisses from your neck and then down your spine, forcing you to bend down on the bed on all fours for him.

"Ouw!" You yelp as he lands a slap on your ass cheek.

Seungmin reflexively holds you by the shoulders, thinking it is something that he's doing that hurts you.

Minho lands another slap on the other cheek harder than the sound echoing in the room and sends you launching to the front.

"Fuck, your other boyfriend cum a lot," Minho complains with his fingers lightly circling your clit.

You shake your head at Seungmin, gesturing him not to take his bait, and bring your mouth to his ear to whisper, "I like it when you cum a lot inside me."

Seungmin holds the side of your head and kisses you, but Minho slaps your asscheek again to get your attention back to him.

"Let's hope he left some room for me to fill," Minho says, putting two digits into your gushing hole to prepare you for his cock.

"Don't be so dramatic, Minho," you poke fun at him.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you hard until your back hits his chest. He buries his head in your neck, placing ticklish kisses down the column on your neck while his hands are fondling your breasts.

"It's your turn to not be dramatic," he mutters into your ear as he aligns his cock to your entrance.

"How can I not be?" You say to him.

Without warning, he enters you, pushing his swollen member in little by little. His hands gripping your hips to keep you still as he keeps pushing in until he's fully buried inside you.

"Honey, oh..." you moan as you grope for his head, turning it to the side so you can kiss him.

"I know," he seductively murmurs into your ear, "You feel so good around me too."

As Minho starts thrusting into you, you get back on your fours again and share some of your attention with Seungmin. You crash your lips against him and take his hand, making him cupping your breast.

He affectionately brushes your hair to the side and holds it there before leaning in for a kiss again, kissing your parted mouth as you moan from Minho's thrusts.

"I'm cumming, oh, I'm cumming," you whine as your fingers claw at Seungmin's chest.

Minho keeps chasing his high and riding past your orgasm, sending you into overdrive. Your eyes are fluttering shut from the immense pleasure but Seungmin holds you steady and tirelessly placing kisses on the skin he can land his lips on.

"Just a little bit more," Minho says through his gritted teeth while keeping the motion of his hips going.

You're fisting the sheet underneath you and eventually collapse onto Seungmin's chest and letting him hold you as Minho finishes inside of you.

Minho lowers his body on you, planting kisses on your back and your neck, he then buries his head in your neck as the three of you snuggle on the bed, exhausted yet content with pleasure.

With your eyes barely open, you reach for Seungmin's jaw and kiss him, then turn your head to the side to capture Minho's lips in a kiss afterward.

And you think, it wasn't bad at all for a first practice.

The bed shifts as Minho props his elbow against the mattress, you're holding his arm close to your chest so he plants a long kiss on your shoulder before slowly, taking his hand away from around you.

He checks his phone for the time and he kind of already guessed that he should get ready for the day, he has a plane to catch.

He quietly makes his way to the bathroom to wash up and quietly gets dressed in the dark of the room, not wanting to wake the others sleeping in the room.

He helps himself for a quick breakfast in your kitchen, opening the fridge to get a carton of milk and it almost startles him to see Seungmin standing by the doorway of your room with his hair sticking up and his glasses perching slightly askew on his nose.

"Man, you look really good in the morning," he sarcastically says as he takes a box of cereal from the top cabinet.

Seungmin brushes his hair to the back and fixes his glasses, traipsing his way to one of the stools pushed against the kitchen island.

"I believe we have to talk," he says to him in his morning, deep voice.

Minho gathers a bowl and a spoon on the kitchen island. He repeatedly nods as he pours cereal into the bowl first and then pours the milk after.

"That's actually great because you haven't heard my part of the story yet," Minho finally responds to Seungmin.

He takes a spoonful of cereal and shoves it into his mouth, making Seungmin wait as he chews and swallows his food to speak again.

"I'm away a lot for work. I hate to see her feeling lonely and sad. I don't want to break up with her and so is she. I was the one who came up with the idea," he explains, taking another spoonful of cereal and making Seungmin wait again, "I told her to find another boyfriend."

Minho then rests his hands on the counter and leans forward, taking a moment to gather his thoughts in the silence that hangs in the room.

"When she told me about you, I was scared because I kind of set her up for heartbreak by coming up with that idea but she stopped feeling lonely and sad. I can also see that she's... happier," he shares, digging his spoon into the bowl, and with a sad chuckle he continues talking, "I even started to think that maybe she doesn't love me anymore."

It only occurs to Seungmin now that Minho did all that not for himself, he wouldn't bother texting him and sending him all those videos if his intention was only to provoke him. He did all that to force him to come and meet you, he did all that for you which makes Seungmin the bigger asshole in this.

Minho drinks the milk straight out of the bowl and then roughly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "What I'm saying is... I just want her to be happy. That's all," he finishes.

This concept of relationship is so new and foreign to Seungmin that at first, he finds it hard to make it make sense but after hearing both sides of the story, it isn't as complicated as he initially thought. After all, a relationship is a state of being connected whether it's people or objects or even concepts.

But it's nice to hear that despite his snarky remarks and flippant attitude, Minho is not afraid to be transparent about his feelings and thoughts, and Seungmin respects him for that.

On the other hand, it convinces Seungmin that this relationship would work because the three individuals are mature and have no intention of hiding things from each other anymore.

"I just want her to be happy too even if it means I have to endure your... attitude," Seungmin enunciates the last word with a sneer.

Minho scoffs and chuckles at that, finishing the bowl of cereal by draining the milk to its last drop.

"So how are we going to do this?" Seungmin asks in genuine curiosity.

"Well... we'll arrange something," Minho vaguely says, putting the dirty dishes down in the sink.

Minho returns to the bedroom to retrieve his jacket, he's sitting on the edge of the bed and places his hand on your shoulder, trying to wake you up with a gentle kiss on your lips and continues placing kisses all over your face until you steer in your sleep.

"Hey, I have to go," He softly mutters with a tender caress on your cheek.

You rub your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Already?" You ask with a sleepy tone.

"My flight is in three hours," he informs while putting away the hairs from covering your face.

You pout and hum in complaint, stretching your arms out before putting them around his shoulders, pulling him close until he collapses on top of you.

"When will you come back?"

"Next Friday," he answers.

"Mmh, okay," you mumble, holding his face inches away from yours and giving him a long peck on the lips.

To give him a proper goodbye, you get up and put on any piece of clothing lying next to you. You walk Minho to the door for another hug and kiss while Seungmin sits in the kitchen, giving this moment just for the two of you.

"Stay safe. Take care," you tell him as you cling to his body.

Minho places ticklish kisses on your neck, sending you giggling as he holds you tightly. He eventually stops to press a long, lingering kiss on your lips.

"I'm going, okay?"

You nod and fondly gaze at him, "I love you."

He smiles at that and plants another lingering kiss on you, "I love you."

It's not the first time that he's leaving you to go away for work, but somehow, this time feels different, he feels a little relieved that he has someone he can trust to keep you safe.

"I'll be back soon," Minho mutters with a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You're lingering by the doorway, watching him leave until he goes inside the elevator and then go back inside. You're aware that Seungmin is there and you've been neglecting him the whole time you're saying goodbye to Minho.

You smile as you walk into the kitchen and see him still sitting there against the kitchen island, "I'll make us coffee," you announce.

"Okay," Seungmin shortly says with a soft smile.

You start by filling the pot with water and putting it on the stove, and as you wait for it to boil, you scoop some coffee beans to grind.

All of a sudden, you feel a pair of arms wrapped around you and you don't have to look to know it's Seungmin.

"Does it make you happy?" He asks out of the blue.

"What? Making coffee for you?" You jokingly ask even though you know the context of that question.

You put down whatever you're holding and turn around on your feet to face him, resting your hands on his chest as you look up at him and say, "I'm happy."

"Then I'm happy," he says with a smile, leaning in to softly kiss your lips.

The kiss brings back so many things, both the good and bad things you've shared, but ultimately him. The break-up was the worst part of it but now that he's back with you, you feel happier than ever.

"I love you, Seungmin," you tell him, sliding your hand up to his neck and holding him there, "I'll never let you break up with me again."

He puts his arms around and draws you closer, "I won't."

"Good, 'cause I don't know what a menacing man like Minho would do to you if that happened," you jokingly say.

In the end, Seungmin doesn't need numbers or data or statistics, he only needs to learn from his mistakes and as much as he hates his guts, he also needs to learn a few things from Minho and one of them is being a good boyfriend to you.

The white curls of steam escape the cup of coffee as you serve it on the table in front of him, the strong smell of it awakens all of his senses.

"Thank you," he mutters his gratitude with a smile that makes his eyes smaller and offers warmth.

You watch as he takes a careful sip at it with a hand propped under your chin, "How is it?"

He puts down his cup of coffee and smiles at you, "It's perfect."

As of this moment, Seungmin will only look at you as someone he loves and wishes to always be happy, and he'll think of himself not merely as a part of the equation but as what completes the equation.

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @9900z

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #kim seungmin smut #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut

415 notes · View notes

everythingne · 10 months

Text

DRUNK WALK HOME - MV1

Your relationship with your teammate is non-existent at best. Since you've joined Red Bull, a second driver thrown in last second, Max has kept a wide berth. He's more interested in himself... well, until he spots your ex-boyfriend getting a bit too rough with your tipsy self at a bar in Monaco.

max verstappen x racer!fem!reader (can be viewed romantic or platonic)

warnings/notes: drunkenness, physical violence, implied attempted assault, implied drink spiking, sort of 'dark' fiction, hurt/comfort (guys i can write angst but we need happy endings ok?), reader's looks are not described/image used in the header is not to describe the reader, the only descriptor are heels, dress, and she/her pronouns used for the reader,

series link (coming soon!)

Max typically steered clear of you. Which was fine, you were a rookie driver, his second, only on Red Bull because an injury that took Checo out for the season and bumped you up from a reserve driver. You mostly stuck by yourself, doing your training alone, racing alone, eating alone... and such. The only time you and Max really spoke was during press, you didn't mind, but it was kinda clear to everyone that Max Verstappen did not like you. For whatever reason.

You assumed it was because he felt partly responsible for Checo's injury, due to also being involved with the accident. So he kept a wide berth because you reminded him of that mistake.

What you didn't know was he ignored you because he liked you way too much, and couldn't risk hurting both of your careers for something as trivial as his feelings. So, he kept his distance, watched from afar and kept tabs on you. Almost like a stalker, Charles had joked to him.

He didn't mind being considered a stalker if it meant keeping you safe.

There was one thing you had told Max, or more so he had been involved in the conversation when you had told Christian. The one deeper thing he knew about you was your ex boyfriend was nothing but a waste of fucking time. He had just been manipulative, urged you into doing a lot of things, and you had been telling Christian about it because someone had seen him at the paddocks. Max had cataloged his name--Isaiah Martelack, and then when he got home that night curiosity killed the cat.

Ten articles and a beer bottle later he told himself, and whatever ghosts might be floating around his apartment, that he'd kill the man. Standing outside this club now, months and months later, with Charles lazily waving goodbye to someone Max didn't recognize... Max realizes he might just have the opportunity.

You'd been very drunk, but promised Max you were going to go home with Daniel. Which was fine, because Daniel was a fucking saint and Max trusted even the absolutely sloshed group that was Lando, Oscar, Logan and Daniel with you. However, Daniel was rubbing a sick Logan's back and yelling for Lando to stop trying to tackle Oscar, who was trying to call their rideshare, and you were not there. Not with the group you had been with only three or so minutes prior.

"Where's hotshot?" Max turns to Charles, the nickname they'd come up with you for in public spaces flowing out without second thought. Charles perks up, turns in a full circle and then shrugs.

"Ask Danny?" Charles peeks around the building, seeing nothing down the front side of the building or in the front parking lot. But that was all he scanned.

"Danny's hands are full enough with the McLaren drivers at the moment." Max laughs under his breath, looking over his shoulder, down the sort of shadier side of the building. It was dark around that side, Charles telling everyone to try and steer clear of it because they might get mugged if they go in that side lot. Max hadn't thought much about it after that, but something in the back of his head was nagging him to look a bit further.

He's happy he remembered you'd worn those little black heels with the silver bow on the front, because he sees one laying there just inside the shadows of the buildings alley. The ankle clasp snapped off and laying nearby, like there had been some sort of struggle. He pauses, holding up a hand as Charles calls for Danny's attention. Charles keeps shouting as Max steps into the shadows to peek, and as his eyes adjust he feels ice in his veins as his arms thrumn with energy. Your ex--stupid fucking Isaiah, has you pinned against the back wall. Max knows you'd be able to fight back in any usual circumstances, but something in the way your eyes flutter open and closed and you try to weakly cry out for help against the mans large hand covering most of your face tells Max there's more wrong than just what he can see.

"Hey!" Is all he can think to shout. Isaiah turns, Max running up, before just clocking the fucking guy in the jaw as hard as he can. Charles shouts behind him, someone else screaming his name as he falls with Isaiah to the ground. He doesn't really count how many times he pummels the guys face into the concrete until it takes Charles, Daniel, Logan, and Lando to pull him back to his feet. Both of Charles' hands pressing Max's chest until Max seems to come back to his sanity after that blip out of his consciousness. The first thing he feels is intense pain in his knuckles, but the first thing he does is look for you.

Oscar's kneeling with you against the wall, a hand under your bloodied jaw as you try and explain, but even the most sober person in the room fails to understand you.

"What the fuck, man!" Isaiah shouts, stumbling back to his feet and wiping at his bloody and broken face. It was almost sort of... therapeutic to see it.

"You ever fucking touch her again and I'll take your hands clean off your body." Max steps forward, jabbing a finger right in Isaiah's chest, making both Charles and Daniel move to push him back.

"Max, Max." Charles pushes Max back against the wall, not like he was trying to be aggressive but more so that he was trying to diffuse the situation.

"Who the hell are you?" Isaiah wipes at his nose and Max takes a second to look around. About an arms length away, a clearly heavily intoxicated Isaiah sways, Lando and Daniel hovering near him, Logan hangs off to the side by the front of the building--waving someone over. Oscar is to Max's right, whispering softly and kneeling with you as he tries to calm you down. Charles holds Max by one hand to his chest, looking over the group.

Max takes a slow breath, shakes out his hands, wipes his own bleeding nose and then turns to where you're curled on the ground. He walks over, Oscar looking up and standing as Max approaches.

"She's... really out of it." Oscar hums, not expecting you to do much of anything, but you stand on shaking legs and lean into Max's arm that flies up to catch you. Oscar brings a hand up to your other arm, watching as you lift a shaking hand to wipe some blood off Max's face.

"You.." your voice is small, weak, and swaying, and Max adjusts so he can hold you against him to keep you upright.

"Relax, okay?" Max shuffles in your hold, before tossing his jacket over your shoulders, trying to hide the red marks he can see forming on your arms and neck, "Take this and... just stay by my side."

"Hey, cars are here to go back to the hotel." Logan calls, sporting a water bottle and four or five phones in his hand, "y'all ready to go, or?"

"What about this fucker?" Lando asks, eyeing Isaiah. Daniel's arms cross firm over his chest and he nods his head over to Max with a small smile.

"I think Mad Max there did enough damage for this guy to understand he should keep away."

"Oh, and--" Charles turns, leaning down to pick up your heel and handing it to Oscar, who helps you try and put it on while Max keeps your stable.

"He should know better than to mess with the friends of the... what do they call me? Prince of Monaco or whatever?" Theres a sly grin that ripples across Charles face and a look of horror dons Isaiah's as he realizes just who he'd been fucking with. When he goes to run, Lando chases him out with a loud drunk cackle as you're escorted to a waiting car.

You know, loosely, that you've ended up in the back of some car, situated between Max and Charles who speak in hushed tones. Your head is swimming, a headache thrumming under the swirling world and sick feeling in your body. The jacket someone had laid over your shoulders providing both heat to your trembling body but also, coverage and protection. The night was pieced together, a mess of shots, dancing, and laughter that had blurred together the longer you had been in that stuffy Monaco club.

That one shot had been the downfall, you'd known it had tasted off but assumed the best. And then Isaiah had shown up, and you should've known from that moment everything was over. You should've told Max to wait with you, instead of waiting for Daniel to get Logan out of the club. Oscar was way too preoccupied trying to keep Lando from being an idiot to notice you get grabbed, of no fault of his own, and Lando was too drunk to know what was happening in general.

And the next thing you can remember seeing, as you recount the nights events to try and keep yourself from losing your stomach in the back of this very nice car, is Max. The way he'd thrown Isaiah down and followed him, each collision of his fist to Isaiah's face, and the way the man beneath him struggled to fight back. The things he had said, the way he looked was nothing like the Max you had grown accustomed to. He wasn't cold and reserved, silent, just a phantom you had grown used to having behind you. No, Max was fiery, loud and violent. No longer was he a passive nod, he was a fist being jammed into teeth with intent to break something, intent to maim the man who'd even just tried to hurt you.

"You alright?" Max asks, and you realize you've been staring. Swallowing, you look down at your lap, holding your shattered phone and broken purse in your hands as you try to think of what to say.

"Y'didn't hav'ta do that." Your words come out more sloshed together than you had hoped, and Max sighs, his own nose scabbed over a while back, you can tell from the darkness of the blood around it.

"No one gets to treat you like that, yeah?" Max says, leaning down to pull the jacket further over you to make sure you're kept safe within it, "No one."

"Christian's g'nna be mad at'ya." You lean into his chest as he sits back, and though he's still for long enough for you to almost pull back, his arms wrapping around you a second later makes you stay.

"He can be mad all he wants, I don't regret pummeling that guys face in." Max shrugs and you hear Charles laugh softly, the car pulling to a stop. The world spins as Max and Charles get you out of the car, into the hotel, and then it's Max who brings you into his room. Charles goes off to get some rest, just leaving you and Max alone. Max says it's because your room is right next to his, so he can just take you next door when you get sleepy. So, you end up on the couch in Max's room with his duvet wrapped around you like a burrito while scouring the room service menu with a water bottle in hand.

"See anything good?" Max asks, emerging from the bathroom in an arguably comfier outfit, you hum setting it down and drinking about half the bottle in one go. The water was helping, or it was placebo as the actual things in your system were finishing up their course. But even though a simple thing of chicken tenders and fries sounds great, you still feel sick enough, you can't imagine stomaching anything.

So you complain, "They have boring food."

"It's a hotel. I wasn't expecting caviar or something." He sits next to you, taking the menu off the coffee table and reading over it, "we can just get junk. I think Christian will understand."

You're quiet for a few seconds, before you poke Max's leg with your foot, "You didn't have to do that, Max. The whole thing with Isaiah."

"If I didn't do that, how far would he have gone?" Max's response is blunt and there's no answer you want to tell him. His hands tighten around the menu before he tosses it down, his hands almost fidgety.

You need to fill the silence, so you say, "You could've just shouted."

"And let him keep his hands on you? God, forget it. Y/n, you should've told me about him, I would've kept a closer eye on you while we were leaving."

"Why would I have told you," You immediately counter, brushing some hair out of your face as you turn to Max and almost curl into the blankets for safety, "it's not like we even talk outside of press."

"I know but..." Max struggles to find the words, you can see it in the way his mouth opens, closes, and then finally he sighs and adjusts the way he's sitting, "you're still my teammate, and... I know you might not really believe me but I'm gonna be here for you. Whenever you're ready to rely on me, I'll be there."

You don't really know what to say, just watching him for a moment before you whisper, "what if I want to rely on you now?"

"Then, let me say this," Max leans forward, brushing a few hairs off your face and adjusting the blanket as he speaks in such a soft tone you're surprised it comes from him, "No one's gonna hurt you as long as I'm here. I promise you that."

There's almost a sort of... pain that fills you. The genuine feeling of his tone, and you shimmy out of the blankets partly as you murmur in your still tipsy haze, "Can I have a hug?"

"Oh, sweetheart... come here," his arms extend and in moments you feel him cradle you to his chest as you hide there, still sickly, still exhausted, still shaking. You close your eyes against his shirt and sigh heavily. Neither of you speak for a while, after Max orders a bunch of random items and two teas from the room service. You know you're crying, even as you try and hold yourself together. Even if you hadn't been in your right mind when everything had happened, it still shook you to your core. Without having to be told, Max rubs along your shoulders, eyes closed as he lets you bury your head against his chest and sob. He doesn't move until you calm down enough for him to feel comfortable gently setting you aside to get the room service left in the hall. When he comes back, he plops next to you on the couch and hands you a plate of shitty hotel food. And as Max plays some videos on his phone for the both of you to watch, you feel the drinks slowly wean off as you sip on the tea, head buried against Max's shoulder as you blink at whatever stupid tik tok has him making a weird face at his screen.

You're not sure when you fall asleep, but you wake up laying on Max's couch, head in his lap as two voices speak above you.

"She's alright, though?" Christian's voice speaks and you feel someones hand running through your hair by its roots, coming back to rest warmly against the back of your neck.

"A bit shaken, but it's y/n, she'll be fine." Max's voice is soft. Christian sighs and shakes his head with a soft chuckle, the sound of a cup being set down as someone gets up off the other side of the couch. Max, who you've been laying upon for a while now, shifting and chuckling softly.

"You've been wrapped tight around her finger, huh?" Christian's voice chimes a bit farther away now.

"Yeah. Just a bit." Max's hand moves, tucking hair behind your ear as he plays with the ends of each strand in a small little pattern, "She's not a bad one to get caught by though."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 au #nicole wrote this

1K notes · View notes

hangmanssunnies · 11 months

Text

Heat To Boil

Summary: After a failed Tinder date, you go to hang out with your friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin. When you get to his house, you unexpectedly find him with a baby, and it is a sight that rewires something in your head. Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. And that is a task you would be more than willing to help with; now, you just need to find the courage to bring it up.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 9k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ Only, Friends to lovers, baby fever, smut, P in V, Oral, Hangman with a baby (deserves its own warning)

Author's note: The attorneys at work keep bringing their babies in and letting me hold them, and @top-hhun has done absolutely nothing to discourage the subsequent baby fever I've been dealing with. Anyways, that's where this fic came from. I hope you enjoy this. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had become friends with Jake unexpectedly some years ago, hitting it off at your mutual friend's wedding. Part of you had, of course, hoped the attractive blonde aviator would be interested in you, maybe in a romantic sense, but it never came to fruition. He shipped out the week after the wedding, but the easy rapport you carried with him started with sharing jokes about how trashed other people got at the reception, and eventually developing into a true and close friendship.

It was for the best because the more you got to know Jake, it became clear to you that he didn't want the same things that you did. He was focused on his career and didn't have time for a partner. When he did talk about settling down, it was never in an authentic way, more joking that he was waiting to swoop in if Coyote's marriage fell apart or that his Mama would set him up with a nice southern belle who wanted to give her twelve grandkids. Jake would claim he was too busy for a relationship, away from home too much to be steady. However, none of that seemed to stop him from finding time for you, which is probably why you hadn't been able to completely repress your feelings for him despite some valiant efforts.

Just today, after a failed lunch date with someone from Tinder, you texted Jake disheartened. He hadn't hesitated first to ask if you were okay and then invited you over for dinner to tell him all about it. He had even promised to cook you whatever you wanted. A special treat guaranteed to make you feel better, considering Jake's superb culinary skills.

You walk into Jake's house without knocking or ringing the bell, knowing he left the door unlocked in anticipation of your arrival. After securing the front door's lock into place, you toe off your shoes, making sure to set them neatly in line with the others there. Jake's home is clean and tidy, just like it always is; the organization of the entry is no exception. You know from the smells and sounds wafting towards you that he must still be cooking, which is odd because he's almost always done by the time you show up.

Venturing further into the house you see him, standing in the kitchen, with a baby strapped to his chest. It's an unexpected sight, and you're frozen by it. Jake's in a casual white teeshirt, jeans, and a dark navy blue sling with a camo pattern wrapped tightly around him, securing a tiny infant in place against his broad chest. His hair is fluffy like it often is on his days off, and the golden strands fall across his forehead. Seeing it like this always creates an instinctual desire to run your fingers through it. However, you can hardly even process that thought because you're so distracted by the bundle on his chest. Music is playing on his record player, and he is humming along.

Jake suddenly stops the humming, and the prep he is doing, looking down at the baby. After a pause, a smile pulls at the edges of his lips, his eyes crinkle before he drops a kiss on the infant's head. And it's like everything is right. Jake with a baby seems so natural. The fact that he exists any other way than with a baby in his arms every day feels wrong. Your heart starts beating harder in your chest, and a thought pops into your head, instantly taking deep root: Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually.

You don't know what sound you must have made, but Jake looks up and finally notices you standing in the hallway. He doesn't appear at all startled as a wide grin spreads across his face as he greets you, "Howdy there, Doll!"

"You have a baby," you say stupidly in an entirely delayed response.

"Yeah, this little guy is Jackson. Coyote and the Mrs wanted a date day, so I offered to watch the baby for them. They were supposed to be here two hours ago to pick him up, but I'm sure they just got caught up." Jake laughs and presses another kiss to Jackson's head. Before continuing on, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind," you manage to breathe out, unable to tear your eyes off Jake or even pretend you're not staring. He quirks an eyebrow at you but otherwise doesn't comment. After he gestures for you to join him, he returns to the cutting board in front of him. You are transfixed; when you sit down at the bar in the kitchen, it occurs to you that you should probably say something and not just stare like an idiot. "Do you want me to take him?"

"I think he is just fine here," Jake says, examining the sleeping baby strapped to his chest again. Jackson has hardly moved since you showed up, clearly passed out, not disturbed by the music or any of the kitchen sounds.

"At least let me help finish cooking then?" You request.

"No, Ma'am. Bubba and I have this dinner taken care of. I did pick up that wine you like from the store. Maybe you can open it up for us?"

Entering the kitchen, you pull out two wine glasses from a cabinet. Opening the fridge you see your preferred wine stocked, as well as a few of your other favorite drinks stored there. Warmth blooms in your chest that Jake picked up things for you when he was at the store last. It was touching that he would take care to buy something he would never touch but getting it anyway just to have beverages you prefer on hand. After pouring the wine, you set one glass next to Jake's cutting board, making sure it's in easy reach for him.

"Thank you," he says appreciatively. You sigh and lean against him, pressing your face into the bicep of his arm, careful not to disturb Jackson or the sling as you do. Closing your eyes, you breathe him in, looking for the subtle cedar scent of his cologne to soothe you. However, only a hint of it tickles your nose, the cedar not as strong as it usually is. Today, Jake smells more like clean laundry and his natural musk than anything else. You are surprised to find it still does the trick in helping settle your nerves, though. Jake hums but doesn't protest your closeness, instead asking, "Long day?"

You don't answer with words, just humming noncommittally against his arm. You leave your face pressed there for a moment longer. "Not enough wine to talk about it yet," you eventually say into his arm before pulling away. Settling on the other side of the counter again, you take a long drink of the wine you poured. Deciding to admire Jake again, you ask, "How was your day?"

"It was pretty good. Javy dropped Jackson off this morning. We had tummy time, went on a walk, and to the grocery store to get things for dinner. Then we got a little cranky, so we rocked in the lazy boy for a while." You took a moment to picture Jake doing these activities and can't decide which is most swoon worthy. Jake is always swoon worthy, of course, but knowing that he was caring for a baby while doing it feels like an extra kick to the stomach or maybe ovaries.

"And?" You ask him, taking another drink of your wine and pillowing your face on your palm.

"And what?" Jake asks.

"What else did you and Jackson do today? I want to hear every detail."

Jake gives into your request easily. Starting his description of the day over, he tells you how even though he has babysat before, the Machados were still anxious to leave Jackson alone here when they dropped him off that morning. Jake told you about tummy time, which toys they liked and which were uninteresting. How long their walk was, and what they saw. He told you about the old woman who fawned over them in the store and how they helped her with getting her groceries to the car. It was endearing that Jake used the first person plural 'we' as if he and Jackson were a team with equal agency in their day's activities. It was especially cute when Jake told you about the tantrum they had thrown earlier in the afternoon as if he had been crying right along with his godson.

Just as dinner was finished and you were setting the table, Jackson woke up and started to get fussy. Jake cooed to the baby affectionately, leaving to the guest room, where Javy had stuffed almost a car full of supplies for Jake to watch Jackson. Some of the just-in-case supplies included toys and clothes Jackson wouldn't even be able to use until he was at least a year old.

When Jake comes back, both he and Jackson are wearing different clothes. Jake is in a soft green shirt and sweats, while Jackson is now wearing a giraffe onesie. He has the baby propped on his hip and doesn't offer you any explanation aside from that they had an accident. Then he sees that you have plated and set everything for dinner at the dining room table, and he offers a soft thank you.

You watch as he balances Jackson on his hip and starts following the written out directions for making a bottle that's taped to his fridge. Jake isn't someone who struggles, and you know that this is something that he is fully capable of doing, but you also can't help but think that it would be easier for him if he had two free hands. So, you gently pull Jackson from his arms and into your own instead.

The baby blinks up at you, his eyes still soft and sleepy. He babbles a bit of nonsense but otherwise makes no protest at you. Jackson has the same brown eyes and skin tone as his father. Even with his chubby cheeks, you can tell that the little boy is going to be Coyote's mini-me. The similarities in their appearance are so close it's like the universe had just hit copy and paste.

He is so cute you can't stop the grin that stretches across your lips when Jackson snuggles into you. One of his hands starts grabbing at your shirt's fabric while he absently gnaws at his other one. The little boy completely steals your attention as you walk around the living room and dining room with him. Asking him how he feels about his day with his Uncle Jake, pausing for his babbling like they were real answers. Jake comes up behind you several minutes later, setting a steady hand on the small of your back.

"Here, let me take him," Jake mutters practically in your ear while reaching for Jackson.

"No," you protest, turning away from Jake's reach. "You've had him all day. I've only gotten to hold him for a few minutes."

"Now, darling," Jake drawls.

"Don't darling me."

"Doll," He says

"Don't Doll me either." You snap, though the aggression of it is completely manufactured.

"Fine, fine," Jake says, holding his hands up. "You can have him for a few more minutes, but then it's my turn again."

"How is that fair?"

"It's fair because he is my godson."

You pout at Jake, and he pouts back." I can't believe you're going to be a baby hog like this. Don't you know sharing is caring?"

"Jackson isn't a rental car, sweetheart. Can't just hand him out to anybody."

"So what? You don't trust me with him?"

"No," Jake says, suddenly dropping all of his dry, teasing tone. "Of course, I trust you with him. Of course, I trust you."

Jake steps closer when he says this, crowding a bit into your personal space. His sea glass green eyes hold you in place, and you don't think you imagine that they flick downwards, that he has his sights set on your lips, that Jake could be considering kissing you. However, a breath later, he is swooping Jackson out of your arms and into his own, quickly back peddling.

"You can have the baby back after I feed him, okay? I don't want to risk him throwing up on that pretty blouse you've got on."

"Kidnaper! Baby Snatcher!" You half gasp, half yell, and start to chase after Jake as he runs away, holding Jackson close and carefully but still managing to evade you.

You're both laughing, and Jackson has started joyfully screeching as well when the doorbell rings, startling all three of you. Jake hands Jackson to you wordlessly before going to check who's at the door. It only takes a minute for him to come back with Coyote in tow. Who immediately rushes to sweep his baby from your arms and press kisses all over his cherub face.

After Javy examined his son to ensure nothing was out of sorts, he handed Jackson back to you to hold while he and Jake packed up all of his stuff and moved the car seat. This was only after he made a sly comment about how good you looked with a baby in your arms, though.

When you are alone with Jackson again, you take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. It wasn't such a hard thing for you to imagine holding a baby, and it looking normal, like something right, especially when you start to picture one with Jake's features or one that would take more after you, possibly even some sweet mix. The feeling of casual want that started from seeing Jake when you first arrived suddenly twists into an unexpected ache and intense need.

You expect it to let up, but it doesn't. Rather, the feeling smolders in you, burning hotter and hotter until it feels slightly consuming. Seeing Jake hug and kiss Jackson goodbye, promising they would spend another day together soon, nearly does you in. Heating your feelings from a low simmer to a roaring boil.

When you and Jake finally sit down to actually have dinner, it gets a little hotter with every sip of wine you take. Every time that Jake smiles and his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way he asks about your failed date with the perfect mix of sympathy and care, even the way he reheated dinner, all adds to the fire. As Jake is starting to put away the leftovers from dinner, refusing to let you help, you can't keep it in anymore, and you boil over.

"Jackson was so precious," you say, casually swirling the bit of drink you have left around in the glass.

"Little mans is so fun. I love him. It's always a treat to babysit,"

"You were really great with him today."

"Aw, thanks Doll. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? Play a game, watch a movie? We can do anything you want."

"Anything I want?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jake says easily as he pops the lids of his pyrex container into place.

"I want a baby." You say in a quick breath. You nearly slap your hand over your mouth in horror that had just jumped out of your mouth. You really haven't had enough wine to be this bold, but then again, maybe you were a little intoxicated on having seen Jake be so domestic.

"What?" he asks with a laugh, probably thinking he misheard you. You grip the edge of the cool countertop trying to steady your nerves and prevent your hands from shaking.

"Jake, I want a baby," you tell him more slowly, making sure each word comes out clearly.

"No, you don't," he laughs, shaking his head. He starts tossing dirty dishes into the sudsy water of the sink and stacking up the food containers to put in the fridge. Jake turns away from you before saying, "I thought you've said you didn't want kids."

"It's complicated," you explain softly. "Are people not allowed to change their minds about things anymore?"

"Oh, so are you debating or like —"

"I don't really know how to say this more clearly. I want to have a baby with you, Jake."

He freezes. You see his shoulders tense, and he stares into the fridge for a long moment, slowly finishing storing the leftovers. When he closes the fridge, he still doesn't look at you immediately.

"You want me to be the father of a child you have? You want to have my baby?" Jake asks you incredulously. You gulp, now feeling entirely too vulnerable to speak, so you just nod in agreement instead. Jake's eyes are piercing, and his body language is tense as he stands in front of the sink again. He heaves a heavy sigh, his lips flattening into a tight line. Then he scrubs his hands over his face before narrowing his eyes at you, "This is not a very funny joke."

"It's not a joke, Jake. I want a baby, and I know you would be a good father." When Jake's demeanor still doesn't change, you continue on hurriedly. "I think we could do the whole platonic coparent thing easily enough. We get along so well, and we're already such good friends."

There is a long pause where he does not say anything, turning on the sink, waiting for the water to heat, and sudsing up a scrub daddy sponge. Only once this task is started does he answer you in a very stoic, perfectly level tone, "No, I don't think I can do that. I can't just sleep with you."

"Oh, well. I see. Forget that I asked, please." You mutter, embarrassed but trying to not let the sting of rejection affect your tone. You knew that this could backfire, but you didn't think it would feel this bad. Feel like the pit of your stomach falling so low you are almost nauseous.

"I'm sorry, Dolly."

"It's okay, Jake, really. It's just the wine getting to me."

"Are you going to ask someone else?"

"What?"

"Are you going to ask someone else to give you a baby?" Jake asks in a gruff tone.

You wouldn't actually, you wouldn't want one without Jake. In fact, this urge to have a child came from seeing him. However, you didn't know how else to play off your out-of-pocket request than to commit to the bit. Nonchalantly, you say, "Maybe."

"I could help you find someone," he offers.

"Please, Jake. It's okay you said no. You don't have to try and fix my situation."

He practically ignores you, asking, "What about Rooster?"

"I'm sure that I would have fun with the process," you say. Jake, who has focused himself with dedication on the dishes, looks up at you sharply. He quickly looks away again as you continue, "I'd be worried about having a baby that's born with a full mustache, though. So, no, thank you."

"I'm sure Fritz would be happy to help you out."

"No —"

"Harvard—"

"No Hangman. Stop," You say much harder with emphasis, cutting him off and leaving no room for argument.

"I tell you no for one thing, and suddenly I'm Hangman to you?"

"No, you're Hangman when you disregard the people around you, no matter what they say. You're Hangman when you decide something's a mission objective, and you refuse to let it go. This isn't your problem to fix or one to pawn off on one of your friends."

"You made it my problem when you just asked me to give you a baby," Jake says, frustrated. Roughly scrubbing the dishes, rinsing, and setting them in the drying rack.

"Well, the moment you said no, it's not your problem anymore. I'm absolving you of responsibility. It's my problem, and I will find someone for myself to put up with me, at least for a night." You joke, trying to lighten the mood again, not wanting to ruin the whole night from this mishap. Jake doesn't react more than his face darkening significantly, a deep frown pulling at his lips as he rinses the last dish and closes the dishwasher.

"Put up with you?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together. Jake reaches for a dish towel to dry off his hands, and you're momentarily distracted by the thick fingers and web of veins tracing up his arm. It's a better sight than meeting Jake's intense eyes, those eyes that can stare you down and leave no room for you to hide.

"I mean, I know I'm a lot, but I think even I can get someone to fuck me once or twice. If I want and am very lucky, I'll only need one night. There are also other options, of course, like sperm banks and adoption. Let's just let it go. Okay?" When you don't get an immediate response, you glance at Jake once more. He is staring at you, but it's not a look you like. He's looking at you like you are a problem to be fixed, a puzzle to solve, an item to take off his to-do list. So you force a chuckle out and smile.

"I don't think I want to. Actually, I can't let this conversation go."

"We have to," you insist.

"Why?"

"Because Jakers, it doesn't have anywhere else to go. I expressed a stupid desire without thinking. It was awkward, and that's okay. It doesn't have to stay that way, though. Now we laugh and forget it. There is no other option."

"A lot. Put up with. Stupid desires," Jake scoffs the words as he rounds the kitchen island. He spins the bar stool chair you're sitting on by the back, turning you to face him. Then he sets his hands on the marble countertop on either side of you, effectively boxing you in. Even sitting on the tall bar stool, you have to tilt your head a bit to look up at him. When your eyes meet again, the green isn't as soft or kind as you're expecting. "I don't like how you're talking about yourself right now."

"I'm just being honest. I'm taxing to deal with; people get tired of me. My past relationships have certainly taught me that I'm only desirable under the right conditions. And I am stupid. I just ruined our whole night because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. What kind of normal person asks one of their best friends to fuck a baby into them unprompted?"

"Oh wow, I'm not even sure where to start with all that." Jake breathes. You can't take seeing his furrowed brow and disappointed frown. So instead, you examine his right arm that's stretched by you, mapping out the moles and freckles there. "You've developed a warped sense of the truth, Doll."

It's your turn to scoff and roll your eyes. When you do, the arm you've been studying shifts, and Jake cups your cheek. Gently, he urges your face to turn back towards his, and a calloused thumb sweeps across your cheekbone. "Listen to me good now. The things you want and desire they ain't stupid, and neither are you. You're not too much. You're just enough."

"Thank you, Jake." You whisper. And while his words are kind, you don't really believe them.

"Don't say thank you."

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Say you believe me and mean it," Jake urges you.

"I don't want to lie to you. That's not who we are, that's not our friendship," You say. Jake's hand drops from your cheek, and he steps back quickly as if he's been burned. After you had been so surrounded by him, you nearly reach out to urge him close again. Running a hand through his hair, you can tell he's resisting the urge to pace.

"Is that our friendship, one built on honesty?"

"I thought so."

"Then I've failed you, and I've failed us because it's not."

"Jake, what are you talking about?" You ask him, confused. He shakes his head at you and doesn't respond, instead backing away further until he is abandoning you in the kitchen. Swiftly, you stand to follow him, "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"And going where? This is your house," you remind him. You've caught up to him in the doorway of his bedroom, where he's grabbing a hat and his wallet. "I'm sorry I ruined tonight, and I'll leave. You have to be honest with me before I do, though. I have to know we're going to be okay tomorrow."

"I can't," Jake says tersely, not meeting your eyes and attempting to sidestep you in the doorway.

"I was wrongly under the impression there wasn't anything you couldn't do, Hangman. But I guess we are finding a lot of things you just can't do tonight, aren't we?" You aren't expecting the little lash out of a taunt to get you anywhere. Jake is normally always calm, cool, and collected, acting with decisive precision. However, nearly as soon as you've finished speaking, Jake's hands are on your arms, and he backs you up until you gently hit the wall of the hallway across from his door.

"You're asking for more self-restraint than I have, Doll." He warns roughly. The sudden movement doesn't make you back down like he was probably expecting. Instead, the rush makes you feel emboldened.

"I don't care. I can accept you don't want a baby with me, that you don't want to fuck me. I can accept that you want to force me to talk, but I can't accept you making me question our friendship."

"Oh god. You really don't understand. My honesty is not going to make this better," he warns.

"Yes, I do. Whatever it is, please tell me. I can think of many things you could be referring to, like that I'm not attractive to you. How I would make a terrible mother. Maybe I'm not a good friend. Or you don't actually like spending time with me. Whatever it is, you have to tell me. I've never thought you would lie to me. So, I need to know, or it's going to drive me crazy."

"There you are, all twisted up again," Jake sighs.

"And whose fault is that?" You snap back. Jake still has you pressed against the wall, so you set your hands on his broad chest with the intention of pushing him away. However, he doesn't budge; in fact, he does the opposite, coming even closer so he is flush against you. You refuse to tilt your chin to look up at him as he looms, rather only lifting your eyes in a cold stare. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're going to leave me hanging to dry, but you could at least —"

You don't get to finish the thought because a hand has snaked to hold the side of your neck, thumb tucking under your chin, turning your face upwards to Jake's waiting lips. The first brush of his lips on yours doesn't line up quite right, but that doesn't stop your breath from catching. Shifting to get a better angle, Jake applies two more feather light kisses. Your hands, which are still resting on his chest, creep up, and you loop them around his shoulders, using the leverage to lift higher on your toes and get closer to him.

This prompts him to deepen his next kiss, lips moving harder against yours. When you open your mouth wider in invitation, Jake's tongue traces along your bottom lip but doesn't dive in. You whine when Jake pulls away to take a breath.

"Forgive me, Doll, I should've asked first."

"Asked what?" You wonder, not moving your eyes away from his lips and strategizing how to get them back on yours. You think if you could just get a little higher, you would be able to kiss him without Jake needing to bend down so much.

"May I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes, please." You answer immediately. You tug your hold on his shoulders, hoping it will urge him to get right back to it. Jake doesn't, though. His hand shifts from your neck to cup your cheek again, his other leaving the wall to settle on your waist.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes, Jake." His hand traces up your side from your waist and back down again in what is a soothing motion. It's too soft and delicate for what you want right now, though, so you tug on his neck again, pressing your chest into his. He gives in this time, molding his lips to yours once more.

When his tongue meets yours, a low rumble emulates from Jake's chest, and the sound sends a new wave of arousal coursing through you. Reaching up, you push off Jake's hat, not caring where it falls, only that it's no longer in your way. When you thread your fingers into his hair, it's smooth and silky, providing no resistance when you tug it.

"Tell me what you want, Doll," Jake says when your lips part again.

"You. I want you," you whimper, tugging his hair again. A wide grin breaks across Jake's face, and his eyes crinkle around the edges. He tucks his face into your neck, and you can still feel him smiling.

"What else do you want?" He questions. When his lips brush a spot that makes you stretch your neck to give him easier access, he nips it lightly. You stumble, coming up with a response, just sighing his name as he finds another spot to bite. "Come on now, you said it so pretty earlier. Tell me again."

Once his request processes through your lust filled brain, you push on Jake's shoulders once more. This time, he doesn't resist, backing away from you and creating some space between your heated bodies. Sagging against the wall, you try to catch your breath while examining Jake. His hair is disheveled now, some of it falling across his forehead.

"You said no, you don't want that with me. You don't want this with me," You answer, finally dropping your gaze to examine the grain of the hardwood floor near your feet. Confusion at this sudden turn in attitude from him settles over you as your head clears. One of Jake's hands enters your field of vision, turned upwards in an offering. "Come sit, we need to set some things straight."

Taking Jake's hand, he curls his fingers with yours and gently tugs you back through the doorway of his room. With his direction, you perch on the edge of his four poster bed. Jake presses a kiss to the back of your hand and lets it go to settle on the accent chair that's in the corner.

"We'll be honest, right?" You say hesitantly, already missing the feeling of Jake's hand in yours.

"Yes. I'll be honest." Jake answers reassuringly before continuing, "From the beginning, I never wanted to be friends with you.

"You didn't?"

"Nope," he says, popping the p. "I never wanted to be friends, and then once we were friends, I was stuck. You didn't seem to want the same things as I did, and I'm not the kind of man to complain about the friend zone."

"I haven't friend you zoned you," you say, scandalized at the suggestion.

"Just earlier tonight, you asked me to have a baby with you, platonically," Jake deadpans.

"Because I can't conceptualize you wanting me any other way."

"I want you. I've always wanted you, but not platonically, baby."

Baby. Jake was a casual sweet name user, there was doll, sweetheart, honey, darling, those all were commonplace, but baby was new. Hearing it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. He called you baby, and he has wanted you. You could have had him from the start if your fears and insecurities hadn't held you back.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to need me, to love me," Jake explains with more hesitation than you've ever heard from him as if he is tip-toeing through this conversation. Worrying your fingers together, you have to take a calming breath to settle your own hesitation before answering him, "Well, that's easy because I do."

A gleeful grin stretches across his face, and it's so bright you feel a matching one appear. He rubs a hand over his face, hiding it from view for a moment, and when you see his face again, he is still smiling. He looks as if he is trying to bite it back but can't quite manage.

"Well, alright, a few more things we have to iron out then. I love spending time with you. You've never not been desirable to me." You can't help a disbelieving laugh when Jake says that, and the look he gives you is disapproving. "I mean that. I was thinking about it even the time I came over to bring you soup when you had the flu. Wanted to bundle you up and crawl into bed with you."

"Oh, come on, that can't be true. I was so gross."

"It is. I promised I would be honest, and I'm not going to be breaking any of the promises I make to you. Can you believe that?"

You study his face, tracing over his nose, and jaw. He still has the hint of a grin that hasn't slid off his features yet, and he looks so very earnest. You can't imagine that Jake would be in the business of lying to you, and the openness he is offering makes it feel like you can believe him. That you can keep trusting him just like you always have. "I can believe that."

"Great. So, baby —"

"Yes?" You say entirely too breathily before he can even finish the sentence. It was really a surprise how much hearing him say that already turned your brain to some form of liquid.

"I want to sleep with you," Jake says plainly.

"Then why are you all the way over there?"

"I didn't want you to feel any sort of pressure while we were talking, and wasn't confident I could keep my hands to myself."

Standing up from his bed, you walk steadily over to the chair Jake is sitting in. Crawling into his lap more confidently than you truly feel, his hands automatically slip around your waist, steading you against him. Holding eye contact with him, you say, "I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Fuck, you're going to kill me," he sighs, tightening his hold on you. You go to kiss him again, but when you do, he blurts out, "I don't have any STDs or STIs." His cheeks stain a little pink, and he looks as surprised by the declaration as you are.

"That's good to know. I'm clean too," you inform him.

"Good to know. I just thought it was important to put it out there. Got to do safety checks first and everything. I don't want us to have any questions or be unsure about anything, and it's important to consider all the factors involved with —" Jake's rambling comes to a halt when you dip your face into his neck, kissing at the underside of his jaw softly.

"Jake," you say, linking your arms around his neck and playing with the short hair there. "Will you give me a baby?"

"Fuck, Doll. I promise to give you anything you want. The ring, the house, the baby. It's yours."

You don't waste any time kissing him. When your lips meet, all the hesitancy and nervousness that Jake had while you were talking melts away. His mouth confidently teases yours open for his tongue to quickly follow. Your hands thread into Jake's hair again as his start to roam your back, sides, and arms. When you wiggle closer on his lap, he groans and grabbing a handful of your ass, lifting you up. Jake stands easily and walks you back to the bed.

He doesn't drop you on the bed like you're expecting. Instead, he sets you down gently, one of his hands cradling the back of your head as he does. Laying on your back with Jake standing over you reminds you just how large and broad he is.

With surprisingly little fanfare, he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. Jake shirtless is not a new sight; in fact, it's a tantalizing one you've seen too often. He has every right to be proud of his body, you know how much time he dedicates at the gym. So it shouldn't be a surprise that, never one to be self conscious, Jake hardly could be found wearing a shirt if the situation didn't require it. However, you realize this is the first time that you don't just have to look but can also touch.

Wanting to get the nervousness of undressing out of the way, you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and tossing it aside. Before you can shimmy out of your bottoms, Jake's large hands are on your wrists, stopping you.

"You're doing my job," he chastises huskily. Jake is slow and meticulous in removing your clothes, running his hands over all the skin that's exposed to him. When he pulls off your bra, leaving you only in your panties, he just sits back and stares for a moment. Such intense scrutiny from his gaze has you covering your chest, crossing your legs, and looking away.

"I wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone tonight," you mutter, knowing that you don't have the sexiest underwear on and perhaps were not as physically prepared for this intimacy as you would like.

"Good," he says lowly. "No one else is going to get to see you like this anymore." Grabbing an ankle in each big hand, he spreads you out for him. He slides off your panties so you're completely bare, and takes up his staring once more. "Ain't you fucking gorgeous?" Jake mutters and you realize he ain't talking about you necessarily; he's talking to your pussy. Whining his name gets Jake to shove off his sweatpants, leaving him in a pair of dark grey boxer briefs as he crawls over your body.

As he kisses you again, your hands greedily explore his exposed skin. His chest hair proving to be much softer than you had imagined it, and his shoulders are taut as he holds himself up. While Jake's lips move with yours, you use a leg to encourage him to ease more of his weight into you, seeking friction. Kissing down your neck he lavishes attention to your breasts, licking and sucking his way across your skin.

"You know, I was too busy to make dessert," he says when he reaches your core. One of his hands teasingly traces all around the skin. Placing a kiss on your inner thigh, he asks, "Do you mind filling in?"

"Jake, you don't need to." You say, trying not to squirm when his fingers dip between your lips.

"I want to. Do you not want me to?"

"I know it's not everyone's thing," you answer, giving him an out.

"It's my thing," Jake says. His eyes lock onto the cleft of you, and he licks his lip, biting at the bottom one. Reaching up, he grabs one of your hands and brings it up to his hair, encouraging you to thread your fingers there. His fingers that are teasing you spread you open more, and he groans, "Oh yeah you're my thing."

Jake's tongue traces over you, probing until he finds the spot that makes your hips jump. Once Jake finds your clit he doesn't waste his time. Widening his mouth, he latches on and sucks. While he starts gently, he ramps up to sucking hard and twisting his tongue as he does. When you pull at his hair, he moans encouragingly.

"More," you request tugging his hair gently. Jake listens, sliding a finger into you. Whispering praise into your thighs about how pretty you are and how good you taste. You don't know how long Jake spends between your thighs, but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry. He sucks and licks, fucking his finger into you until the sound is sloppy and wet. He slips a second finger in, stretching you, occasionally scissoring them wider open in you.

Even when you are whining and gasping, working against Jake's tongue, he doesn't let up. You don't have the mind to worry how you're trying to suffocate him with your thighs, which he keeps pushing back open with no complaints. All that you can focus on is Jake, how good he is making you feel, and how close you're getting. It's a matter of time until you're shuddering and falling apart for him.

Continuing to lavish attention even as you jerk with sensitivity, Jake seems content to keep eating you out. You try to pull him away by his hair, but he just licks into you harder. "Jake, enough," you whine, trying to wiggle away from his mouth.

"I haven't had my fill yet, Doll," he says, pulling his mouth off you but not going far, pressing wet kisses to your thighs.

"I haven't even seen your cock yet, and I don't know why it isn't in me." You say, trying to reason with him. It doesn't come out very strong, though as Jake's fingers curl in you, making your cunt flutter.

"Patience is a virtue," he teases.

"Being virtuous isn't really at the forefront of my mind at the moment."

Jake sighs dramatically and presses one more kiss to your pussy before sitting back on his haunches. You can see the hard outline of him in his briefs as he gets off the bed. You watch his every move closely, more than ready to finally see him naked.

However, Jake is clearly taking some sort of joy from making you wait, because he detours to start picking up your hastily thrown clothing. As he is laying them out on the chair, you lose your patience. Grabbing one of his decorative pillows, you throw it at him. It smacks him between his shoulder blades before dropping to the floor with a thunk.

Spinning to face you, Jake crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge, his eyebrow raised. "Did you just hit me with a pillow?"

"No, I wouldn't do that," You deny trying to look innocent. Jake tsks at you, picking up the makeshift weapon and setting that neatly on the chair as well.

"Being desperate for my cock isn't an excuse to misbehave, baby."

"Big talk for someone who still hasn't shown it to me. It's okay if you don't have a pretty dick, Jake. It won't change how I feel. I'm still going to want you to fuck me."

Goading someone into action was a wonderful tactic you had learned over the course of your friendship with Jake. Something he easily did with others, and something tonight that it proved was just as effective against him because he doesn't even respond to your words. Sliding off his underwear, his dick springs free. He's hard from eating you out, and just from the first glance you get, it's clear there isn't one thing for him to be self-conscious about.

The fleshy pink length is nestled among dark hair, and the size of him is nothing to dismiss. It's a very symmetrical cock, lining up nicely with his balls and adonis belt. Bouncing a bit as he gets back on the bed, you can't bring yourself to look away. You know he is going to fill you so deliciously. When he's finally close enough for you to touch, you hesitate though.

"Speechless?" Jake wonders, with no ounce of shame or self-consciousness present.

"Can I touch?" You ask. Jake nods, taking your hand and bringing it to your mouth. You suck a few of your fingers in, wetting them with your spit. Then he guides your hand to his dick, encouraging you to wrap it around him. Jake's hand covers yours for the first few strokes, showing you what he likes, but then it falls away, letting you explore. He grunts when you trace one of the veins that runs along the side, following it down to cup his balls. He allows your teasing for a few more strokes before he pulls you close, kissing you hard.

The hard planes of Jake's naked body pressed against yours is nearly too much. He is so close and yet not close enough. With some gentle maneuvering, Jake is in between your legs and checking that the position is comfortable for you. Jake runs his length through your lips, the head bumping into your clit. Despite all the encouragement and build up, he's still not in a hurry. When his cock is wet from you, it starts to slide effortlessly. Losing your patience, you cup Jake's face, making him look you in the eyes.

"Jake, fuck me now. Please." You say. He nods, kissing you slowly. Then finally, he grabs his cock lining himself up and pushing the tip into you. When his pelvis meets yours, he holds himself there, your breaths mingling together in light pants as he stretches you out. The time he gives you to stretch and adjust is necessary, but once you have, Jake fills you deliciously.

"How're you feeling baby?" He asks. Your thumb moves across his cheekbone, soothing until the worry lines between his eyebrows disappear. Only responding when you know you're okay and so is he, "Perfect. Feel so full of you."

"I'll fill you up," Jake promises.

"Yeah?" You ask. He hums his agreement and rocks his hips against your experimental, drawing a small gasp from you.

"Promise," he says, starting a lazy punctuated rhythm, moving his hips against yours. Your hands explore the skin of his back as he thrusts into you. You hike a leg up on Jake's hips, letting him get a little deeper in you. The action makes him moan, and he pulls your other leg up around his hip, too.

Hooking your ankles together, you use the leverage to encourage Jake to fuck into you faster. Digging your heels into his ass and lifting your hips up to meet each of his thrusts increases the heat boiling between you. His face falling into your neck, Jake starts whispering dirty praise about how good you feel around him and how long he's been dreaming about this.

Stamina clearly isn't something that Jake is lacking in. He fucks you until you are both dripping with sweat, and you are begging for him noncoherently, unable to process anything but how good his cock feels. He maintains a steady rhythm, snapping his hips to meet yours the whole time.

"You feel so good. Want to get you there again. What do you need?" Jake pants huskily.

"Harder," you answer shakily, snaking your hand to play with your clit. You're close, and you know it's not going to take much more for you to get there with how long Jake's been building you up. He listens, slamming his hips more pointedly into you, grinding his pelvis every time he bottoms out.

Huffing, Jake pulls out of you a few minutes later. Making you cry out wantonly, reaching for his retreating body. He takes a moment to kiss both your hands that he unhooks from his neck. Then, shushing you gently, he grabs a pillow and lifting your hips, he slides it under them.

"It's okay, just a little better angle." He explains to you. You flop back on the bed, content to have Jake manhandle you any which way he wants if it means he'll be in you again.

"Oh, you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" He asks, as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty and wanting him. His fingers dipping in to play with the wet dripping from you. A flash of shame passes through you as he asks that. You drop your arms that had been reaching out for him back to the bed, and you screw your eyes shut, turning your face to the side looking away from him.

Jake had already got you to cum once, and it was possible he didn't want you all over him as he was trying to get off now. Preferences were probably something y'all should have talked about more in depth before jumping into intimacy. You didn't want him to think you were overly needy or hard to please. You didn't want to ruin what you and Jake could have the very first time together. Noticing the shift in your enthusiasm Jake immediately stops pressing his cock into you, worriedly asking, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you answer, staring up at the ceiling looking for patterns there. It's easier to play this off if you don't have to look at him; easier if you don't have to acknowledge the unexpected, unwelcome swell of emotion that's overcoming you.

"Doll, look at me." He orders you, but you shake your head, refusing. Jake grips your chin, tilting your face to meet his eyes. They are intense studying you intently, completely focused on you. "The honesty we just promised each other needs to extend to sex nearly more than anywhere else going forward with this relationship," Jake says seriously. His hard dick is pressed against your thigh, and you don't know how he's able to have such a level-headed conversation considering the circumstances, just having been balls deep in you a minute ago. "So, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to be too high maintenance or needy," You sigh, trying to work through your words. Knowing this conversation is important, but also not completely sure how to express what you're feeling. "Sometimes I might seem needy, or maybe I could take a while to cum or not at all, which wouldn't be a reflection of you. I don't want you to think, well, I don't want to be too much for you to change your mind about this, and now I'm ruining the mood with a dumb fucking insecurity."

"Stop," Jake says gently, but leaving no room for argument. "You haven't ruined anything. I'm sorry I called your pussy needy. I didn't know it would make you feel this way. Can I tell you something, though, Doll?" When you give a hesitant nod, Jake's voice drops so low it's nearly gravelly. "I want you to be needy. I want your pussy desperate for my cock, desperate for my cum. I want you as desperate for me as I am for you."

"You're desperate for me too?"

"Frantically and wildly so." He answers easily. Then he asks with his thumb ghosting over your nub, "Are we okay? Is this still okay?"

"Yeah, this is good," You sigh, enjoying the zing that runs up your back when he nudges your clit more pointedly.

Jake grabs his cock, giving it a few languid strokes before he guides it back into you. You push your hips up to meet him. The new angle that the pillow gives him leverage to hit somewhere that's just a delicious feeling. As he rocks into you, his thumb maintains its place on your clit. Your fear of the mood having been ruined proves wrong as the coil in your core quickly builds, pushing you near the edge once more.

"Cum in me, Jake, please. Give me a baby," you request, your thighs quivering as you near your orgasm.

As his hips snap nearly frantically, Jake rolls your clit over in nearly the same rhythm. He moans your name a minute later, falling over the edge and spilling inside of you. Though his hips stutter to a stop leaving himself fully seated in you, he continues working over your clit. It doesn't take long until you're dissolving into pleasure along with him.

The ripples run through your body, and you feel every muscle tense and relax, turning into jelly. Jake grunts when you spasm around him but doesn't move or pull out until you've fully melted into the bed on the downward crest of your peak.

When he does pull out, he doesn't go far, shifting enough to spoon you. Settling behind you, Jake pulls you close to his chest, wrapping you tight in his arms. His hand is tracing lazy patterns on your hip and occasionally venturing to the soft skin of your belly. You don't have the mind to be self-conscious at the moment, still a little too blissed out. It takes significant brain power to process his question when he asks, "Do you actually want to have a baby?"

"Do you?" You wonder.

"You can't answer a question with a question," Jake chastises you. Turning in his arms so you are sprawled against his chest, you snuggle close, nuzzling him affectionately.

"Do you know how it was seeing you with Jackson today?" You ask him.

"If it was even half of how it felt seeing you hold him, then I'm sorry."

"Whatever you felt, double it. Triple it even." You say lightly. "It was enough for me to ask my friend, who I thought could never want me, for a baby."

"I do want you," Jake immediately reassures you.

"Thank goodness for baby fever, then. Because at least now we know we want each other," you reason, slowly starting to draw mindless patterns of your own against his skin.

Jake heaves a sigh and strokes his hand down your back, wondering, "Was this just baby fever?"

"No," you answer after thinking about it for a long span of silence. "I would have a baby with you. It seems right. I want that, I think." You can feel the relief in his body, hearing that, all his tension easing into relaxation.

"Good," is the only response he gives you, kissing the crown of your head. You expect more but don't get it. Rather, Jake seems content to just bask in the afterglow. That doesn't seem to be too bad an idea, so you close your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you're not alone in bed. However, you are now under the covers of a different comforter than there was before, and Jake is no longer acting as your pillow. He is on the other side of the bed, but his hand is stretched out, grazing the middle of your back.

Rolling to face him, you admire the sight he makes stretched out on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jake's got a book open, folded in half, clearly abusing the book's binding just so he can have one hand on you. When he notices you sleepily admiring him, Jake shoots you a soft smile.

"Hey baby," he whispers.

"Hi," You whisper back scooting closer to him and grab the hand that had been touching you, threading your fingers together.

"Let's go on a date," Jake suddenly springs on you, squeezing your hand.

"I would love that," you respond, feeling giddy as butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Want something first, though."

"I already told you I would give you anything you want, and I meant it," Jake says, setting his book on his bedside table and giving you his full attention.

"Good, because I want round two and a shower, which hopefully has round three involved."

"Your wish is my command," Jake says easily. You move even closer to him so your lips are only a breath apart. "I meant it, the ring, the house, the baby. I can make it all happen by tomorrow."

"Let's start with breakfast in bed," you say, kissing him hard. When your lips hardly touch because you're both smiling too wide, well, that actually makes it feel all the better.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #hangman imagine #hot hot hot!#hoeing for hangman

2K notes · View notes